Category Archives: Life Lessons

Wisdom gained

Frederike Migom: the art of mixing art and social engagement

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True art, art that comes from the center of a people, from their very core, is inherently political.
– Beverly Smith, American artist

Frederike Migom.

While Frederike Migom’s “Nkosi Coiffure” – one of this year’s LUNAFEST film festival’s official selections – is, on the surface, about a woman who escapes into a hair salon in Brussels after a fight with her boyfriend in public, the short film pays homage to her Flemish mother’s unlikely friendship with her Senegalese friend. Whereas her mother is reserved both emotionally and in appearance, her mother’s friend is the exact opposite. “It was really interesting to see them relate,” she said of the two women. “It was really beautiful to see both of them together.” The Belgian filmmaker and actor was also inspired by her family’s connections with Africa – her father was born in what was once the Belgian Congo in Central Africa, and her brother studied in Senegal. Although her brother passed away while in the West African country, Frederike noted that positive things came out of her family’s tragic loss.

The idea for “Nkosi Coiffure” (2015) grew out of photos that her mother had sent to Frederike in a text message. Her mother’s friend had convinced her to go to the hair salon where she worked to have her makeup done and extensions woven into her hair. The photos surprised and amused Frederike because, as she related, “that was so not my mom.” Over a cup of coffee with her mother’s friend, Frederike laid out her vision of building a story around her mother’s salon visit for a short film. She knew that writing the script would be difficult because it wasn’t her culture. “It was going to be a challenge to portray the community honestly and with respect,” she said. So together, she and her mother’s friend wrote the script.

Still from “Nkosi Coiffure.”

Fusing art and social engagement
Frederike shot on location in a Congolese neighborhood hair salon, and “Nkosi Coiffure” premiered at a small African film festival in the same neighborhood. Brussels is home to a tight-knit Congolese community. “It felt important,” she said, of her choices in location and screening, “. . . to bring people together.” While mixing art with social engagement is more apparent in her other work, it’s still inherent in “Nkosi Coiffure.” And yet, Frederike insisted, “I did not want my film to be political at all because I don’t have the desire to do that.” She went on, “There are a lot of ways to tell stories that involve or hint at these themes without actually trying to exploit them or to pretend that I have the answers – because I don’t. All I know is that we’re all here in this city together.” In Europe, she pointed out, many films about immigration often focus on the problems of immigration for host countries. “But I want to tell a positive side of the story,” she said. “We’re going to have to learn how to live together.”

Still from “Nkosi Coiffure.”

“Si-G,” her first documentary, which premieres locally at the end of February, embodies her fusion of art and social engagement. By happenstance, Frederike was watching a local news story about students at a school and was intrigued by a girl in special needs education who performed an impromptu rap. She originally wanted to write a fictional story about Cansu, who gave herself the rapper name of Si-G. As she awaited word on government funding to make the short film, she got to know the girl better. Cansu had recently moved from a small town in the Netherlands to a small apartment that she shared with her father and sister in Brussels. “Rap for her was a need,” Frederike explained.

Cansu rapping in “Si-G.”

Frederike connected Cansu with a hip-hop workshop at the local library and filmed the event. The rapper who led the workshop became Si-G’s mentor and the two ended up collaborating on a song. When funding didn’t come through, Frederike decided to make the short film a documentary, taking a look at rap from a kid’s point of view. At that time, terrorists had attacked Paris in multiple locations and the news media reported that the terrorists came from Cansu’s neighborhood in Brussels. Soon after, the area received international scrutiny and negative press. “She’s had to be on guard a lot, but she just had this really energetic, positive story to tell,” Frederike declared. “This rap comes from the heart and it’s a way to express yourself.” She believes Cansu can be a role model to the kids in her neighborhood and to adults, too, with the film being the messenger that shows them: “Don’t judge these kids.”

Still of Cansu in the short documentary, “Si-G.”

The evolving dreams of our youth
When Frederike was a child, she wanted to be a storyteller and thought that becoming an actor was the natural next step. She studied at the performing arts conservatory American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York City, but she discovered that acting didn’t give her creative satisfaction. So she started writing to stay creative. When her student visa ended, Frederike didn’t want to return home and instead landed in Paris and attended film school. Commitment to being a filmmaker didn’t take hold when she was a student because the school’s technical approach over artistic focus didn’t appeal to her. It wasn’t until she graduated and worked in production that she found her true place behind the camera.

Still from the Flemish feature film, Boosters, starring Frederike.

“I’ve always been fascinated by people’s dreams,” she related. People may have dreams as children and grow up chasing those dreams. Over the years, however, when the prospect of accomplishing those dreams dims, the dreams evolve as people make necessary adaptations, according to Frederike. Her short film “Adam and Everything” (2014) explores that theme – the fork in the road where one must make decisions and then gracefully accept those changes. “When I was an actor in New York, I saw how hard it is and how so many people struggle and you have to make a decision – am I going on with this or am I choosing a more stable life?” she posed.

Still from “Adam and Everything.”

Frederike directing in “Adam and Everything.”

Frederike is continuing to explore that theme. A Belgium television station commissioned her to make a short documentary in Flemish about any subject she wanted to do, so long as it was a personal story. So she settled on filming a documentary on her classmates from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. “We’re all 30 now – where is everyone? What are they doing?” she wanted to know. As it turns out, many of her classmates are no longer acting. When they were in the performing arts conservatory, such an outcome would have been deemed a “terrible thing,” she declared. But with lives changing and presenting new challenges and opportunities, she concludes: “It’s okay.” The documentary, she says, is “more about dreams and the question of what really defines success.” Frederike is contemplating making a second version in English after the Flemish version is completed at the end of January.

Beginnings and endings all lead to hope
Communicating and connecting are also themes in her emerging body of film work. “Malakim” (2014), the story about a lonely boy and an angel on the street, was inspired by a living statue dressed as an angel that Frederike spied when she was in Sấo Palo, Brazil. He never moved because nobody gave him money. She wondered: “What if nobody sees him? What if I’m the only one who sees him because nobody is giving him any money?” Intrigued by “loneliness in crowded places,” Frederike explores the desire to communicate amidst the challenge of not being able to connect. While she admitted that “Malakim” is a “dark film” because the boy is so desperate to communicate that he throws a rock at someone, she argues that in the end boy and angel find one another.

Still from “Malakim.”

“All of my films end with a new beginning,” Frederike said. In “Nkosi Coiffure,” the main character, who is making a momentous decision, sees life in a different but positive light after her discussion with the women in the hair salon. Frederike confessed that she had always wanted to be a “complicated, dark artist,” but to the core she has always been a positive person. While there’s a lot of negativity in the world today, she points out, “Life is really a beautiful thing in the end. We’re all together in this, and we need to find a way to live together and find your place in the world. I think my stories, in the end, will always have hope.”

A prototype poster for Frederike’s feature film, Binti, which is not animated.

Frederike is currently working on her first feature film, Binti, about a 10-year-old Congolese girl who has lived her whole live in Brussels with her father and who dreams of being a television presenter. When their undocumented status is exposed, father and daughter run away. Binti meets 10-year-old Elias – a “nature boy,” as Frederike describes him – who has taken to hiding in his treehouse ever since his father had run away with another woman. Binti hatches a plan to get her father and Elias’s mother to fall in love and marry so that she and her father can remain in Belgium and she can still pursue her dream. This family film, Frederike points out, is perhaps her most socially engaged film to date. “I’m very shocked by the deportation of children, especially if they’ve lived in another country their whole life,” she declared. “It’s the most ridiculous thing to spend time and money kicking them out to a place that they’ve never been.” With Binti, Frederike wants to instill hope. She recently received word that the Belgian government has awarded her funds to develop the film – good news, indeed. The grant will enable her to move forward, with shooting expected to commence in the summer of 2018. With the world in uncertain times today, it will be interesting to see what kind of world exists when Binti premieres.

Note: You can see Frederike’s short film at LUNAFEST East Bay’s screening on Saturday, March 18th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Theater. For more information, click here.

Patricia Beckmann Wells: a ‘fan of poetry told through moving images’

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I think animation is a very truthful way to express your thoughts, because the process is very direct . . . You go from the idea to execution, straight from your brain. It’s like when you hear someone playing an instrument, and you feel the direct connection between the instrument and his brain, because the instrument becomes an extension of his arms and fingers. It’s like a scanner of the brain and thought process that you can watch, or hear.
 – Michel Gondry, French indie director, screenwriter, and producer

Patricia and her son, PT, in the Los Angeles Contemporary Museum of Art's rain room, site of the Los Angeles International Children's Film Festival.

Patricia and her son, PT, in the Los Angeles Contemporary Museum of Art’s rain room, site of the Los Angeles International Children’s Film Festival.

Before Patricia Beckmann Wells’s “Family Tale” premiered at the Los Angeles International Children’s Film Festival in December 2015, she posted on the Adoptive Families Facebook page about the animated short film’s subject of building a transracial family: “It documents the story of a young family who lost their own biological children, but found love by getting on the roller coaster of adoption. This journey led them to embrace open adoption, which in turn led to its own wonderful and unexpected results. It exists as our son’s story, so he can have record of what led him to join us.” “Family Tale” was also an official selection of this year’s LUNAFEST film festival, which premiered this past September.

She recognized that animation was the best media to tell her story and to personalize her story of adoption. “The audience did not judge me as a face with bias, but were presented with my interior,” she explained. “It was easier for them to identify with the pictures as symbolism than with a human face they may not have liked.”

Still from the short film, "Family Tale."

Still from the short film, “Family Tale.”

Indeed, Patricia shared how her film gave her insight into a larger story. “Somehow that film melted the cold exterior off of strangers,” she said. “I met many, many people with similar stories, and made many friends. It is remarkable how many people have suffered alone with a pain that was taboo to discuss. Usually a quarter of my audience identifies. I have chatted for hours with folks after the film. And have a new world view now.”

Still from "Family Tale."

Still from “Family Tale.”

Animator, professor, author
Patricia earned her Master of Fine Arts in Cinema and her EdD. in Educational Psychology and Leadership from the University of Southern California (USC). As a tenured professor, she teaches animation, game/toy design, virtual reality production and emerging technologies at Irvine Valley College in Irvine, Calif. She has also authored several publications on emerging technologies and art.

Patricia with her animated class and her animations!

Patricia with her animated class and her animations!

Being an animator, professor, and author have all shaped her as filmmaker. Animation suits her preference for being able to work alone and at her own fast pace, and for the way her creativity evolves. “There is creative power in daydreaming and low-stress experimentation,” she pointed out. “A line can lead to a doodle, leading to a truth that only comes from looking sideways at an upside-down thought.” In the college classroom, Patricia has gotten to know a diverse group of students. “This gives me stories,” she said. “All three [animator, professor, author] are just who I am – a sincere fan of the poetry told by moving image,” she said, simply.

Still from "Family Tale."

Still from “Family Tale.”

Navigating the animation industry
Patricia had previously worked on several movies as an animator for Warner Brothers Digital and other film companies. While she was Manager of Shorts Development at Film Roman, three of her entries won the Playboy Animation Festival in 2000. Soon after, she was tapped to develop content for Oxygen Media, the Romp, and Playboy. Later, she was in charge of training as an executive at Walt Disney Animation studios, and as Head of Training assisted Dreamworks SKG in building production studios in India, but it came at a price. “I got distracted by taking on a managerial role in the big animation studios, and lost the time required to develop new ideas,” she said.

Patricia Beckmann Wells, at home.

Patricia Beckmann Wells, at home.

Since becoming a professor, Patricia is able to work on her own ideas, but can only dedicate five months a year for a creative project because of her teaching schedule. “Ideas are mulling all the time, but they pop into production when all of the inspirations and tools present themselves,” she said. “I don’t take on commercial work anymore because there are much more talented artists than me out there who deserve the work, and I want to be free to be creative.”

The animation industry has seen an explosion of talent, but while it has evolved, centralized power and gender disparity still exist. Techtopus, recent lawsuits in which the animation industry tries to control and blacklist talent, is still affecting animation, and few women hold creative leadership, according to the Geena Davis Institute on Gender and Media. “I work alone. I doodle, think, and keep on. My animation heroes are all indie,” she affirmed. “The story is the thing, not the method (which currently happens to be animation), and I am so happy there are many more outlets for media than there were 20 years ago.” With the indie movement firmly entrenched in the industry, she declared, “We do not need to join studios any more.  As a professor, I am in a perfect position to keep making my stories while encouraging new voices to speak as well.  Emerging media is creating new outlets for creativity daily.”

Still from the film, "Don't Cry."

Still from the film, “Don’t Cry.”

Having faith in indies
Patricia is currently in production for “Don’t Cry,” with soundtrack by Boston-based ska punk band Big D and the Kids Table. The film, which is expected to be released in summer 2017, explores a mother’s unconditional love for her adopted son and how she will influence his own family. Patricia is also developing a comedy series “motivated by subtly educating people about the science of global warming,” a science-fiction film about the outsider and education, virtual reality experiments, and educational shorts created for her son.

She hopes that audiences who see her films “leave with faith in the little guy.” “Independent film has an authentic voice and usually just one writer,” Patricia said. “I hope I get better and better and eventually can tell a story that wraps people up in a peaceful blanket of my heart, smothers them with kisses, and leads them back into the world drunk with love.”

Note: You can see Patricia’s short film at LUNAFEST East Bay’s screening on Saturday, March 18th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Theater. For more information, click here.

Theresa Moerman Ib: understanding the world through the artist’s lens

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A man is not dead because you put him underground.
– Graham Greene, English novelist, short story writer, playwright, screenplay writer, and critic, from The Third Man (original screenplay)

Theresa Moerman Ib

Theresa Moerman Ib (photo credit: Richard Warden).

The above quote opens Theresa Moerman Ib‘s documentary, “The Third Dad,” about her journey to find the grave of her alcoholic father, from whom she had been estranged for 10 years and who had died seven years earlier. The Glasgow-based multimedia artist wove archival family photos and home movies with new materials, overlain with a haunting soundtrack, to tell the story of how her memories of her father and the questions swirling around his death keep him very much alive in her heart, mind, and art. The short film has won several awards and was chosen as an official selection by more than 15 film festivals around the world, including LUNAFEST.

Confronting death and grief head-on
In October before a full house, shortly after the LUNAFEST premier in San Francisco, Theresa participated in a post-screening discussion at the Scottish Mental Health Arts & Film Festival. The festival, she said, “is keen to encourage openness and conversation on difficult topics.” After the screening, several people approached her to share their stories of having to cope with an alcoholic parent. “It made them feel less alone,” said Theresa, who was moved by the experience. “I think films have the power to do that.”

A different way of looking at her father, in a still from "The Third Dad."

A different way of looking at her father, in a still from “The Third Dad.”

She hopes that film festivals take on more films that deal with death and grief. “No one will go through life without losing someone they love, either due to illness, accident or age,” she pointed out. “And we’re all mortal – so talking about our fears and scars make them seem less ominous. We don’t feel so isolated in our struggles.”

A blurry memory of Theresa as a child in a still from "The Third Dad."

A blurry memory of Theresa as a child in a still from “The Third Dad.”

In her own journey, Theresa found comfort as photographer and filmmaker, whose roles she believes are “to collect, record, and preserve.” Film and photography, she says, “allow you to see the world through a filter – the lens.” Both have helped her understand the world around her, especially during difficult times. “When you see things through the camera and record them, you can go back over them again and again. It helps you accept what’s in front of you, forces you to face things, but in a gentle way, and, in your own time, you somehow feel one step removed from it,” she explained. “I don’t think I could have gone through the process of finding my father’s grave without a camera in hand. It was a constant companion that I knew could help me in the moment and later on, as well.”

Looking at photographs of her father in a still from "The Third Dad."

Looking at photographs of her father in a still from “The Third Dad.”

Early on in “The Third Dad,” we see the narrator, Theresa, shuffling through a stack of old photographs that she removes from an envelope. The act of taking photographs is empowering because it captures time, people, and places. The photographs themselves, like fossils or hieroglyphs, are the tangible evidence that those people and places once existed. Theresa recognized a “loneliness” in the photographs that her father took, especially the ones that were taken before she was born. “He was seeking out people he loved and places full of solitude and melancholy. I think it was therapeutic for him,” she said. “He could preserve each moment for posterity, which I believe gave him comfort; he constantly negotiated between himself and the world, as I do in my work.”

Theresa behind the scenes.

Theresa behind the scenes in her studio (photo credit: Veronika Geiger).

Memory and preservation
Death and memory are constant themes in Theresa’s works across all media – film, photography, poems, sculpture, and installation. In her film poem “Letter to the Sea” (2013), she reads a poem she wrote as the ashes of a deceased person are scattered across a windy seascape. As filmmaker, she captures and preserves “the transitory nature of human existence against the constantly changing backdrop of nature.” While there’s an air of melancholy particularly in her films, a celebration of beauty and empowerment through creation is also pervasive.

Still from "Letter to the Sea."

Ashes caught mid-air in a still from “Letter to the Sea.”

Letter to the Sea
There is a sea for every stage of grief:
All are full of salt.
It is said that signs of drowning look like waving;
no way to tell dead calm from done for.
At night no one can find you;
black water reflects back rock.
The moon is a lighthouse,
darkened and mostly invisible.
Only the shipping forecasts make waves
to predict the speed at which you fall:
Quickly. Slowly. Not at all.

In her experimental piece “Flicker” (2012), she digitally rerecorded a Polavision super-8 film, in which the corrosion of the film, a result of Polaroid’s instant developing chemicals, creates “a flickering effect reminiscent of moths in flight.” Theresa writes, “The soundtrack is whispered synonyms for the word flicker and plays on early reactions to the moving image as alchemy and the vulnerability of attempts to preserve the past.”

Still from "Flicker" shows how the corroded film mimics moths in flight.

Still from “Flicker” shows how the corroded film mimics moths in flight.

Her short film, “Mono No Aware” (2013), is a digital rerecording of a slideshow of family photographs taken in Denmark and Japan during the early 1970s. The loop of photographs begins to accelerate, and despite the score of soothing Japanese bamboo flute music, the speeded-up clicking of the “slideshow” induces mild anxiety as the viewer tries to remember the details of the repeated images and put those images in some kind of order, in an effort to restore order in chaos but also to, once again, preserve those memories.

Looking up at trees in a still from "Mono No Aware."

Looking up at trees in a slide from a still from “Mono No Aware.”

“I think a lot of contemporary art is afraid of pathos,” Theresa said. “I like to embrace it.” While she admits to having a sentimental streak that inevitably finds its way into her work, she hopes it emboldens people to embrace and see the beauty of their sentimental side, instead of being stoic. “Sometimes it’s good to be vulnerable,” she pointed out. “I think it makes you stronger.”

Still from "Mono No Aware."

Still from “Mono No Aware.”

Theresa is also interested in speaking to a “collective unconscious.” “We all have memories from our families, however dysfunctional they may have been!” she said. “It’s a place we can all meet and relate to one another. A lot of bad memories may come up, but there can be something rewarding even in them. I guess it sounds hopelessly romantic, but, ultimately, I hope my work encourages viewers to look for beauty and a sense of lightness in the darkness, the sadness or the pain.”

Theresa behind the camera.

Theresa behind the camera (photo credit: Richard Warden).

Working with different media, finding second life
Theresa started writing poetry when she was studying for her degree in English Literature. After taking up photography, she attended art school, where she began to work with different media. During her exchange year at the University of New Mexico, she learned basic printmaking, furthering her artistic range. Art installation, she discovered, enabled her to create immersive experiences by combining multiple expressions in one space and likened it to being an interior designer. “You get to furnish a space with your work and create exactly the feeling you want,” she enthused. In addition, working with physical materials can be “quite grounding.” When she embraced film, it allowed her to capture all the disparate media under one medium. That said, she noted, “At the end of the day, it’s about finding the right medium to tell the story you want.”

The artist in her element.

The artist in her element (photo credit: Richard Warden).

In a piece she wrote in Central Station (February 2013) about the thought process for her art installations, Theresa explained, “In my work, I collect moments and materials that have the potential to be transformed into something else.” Her fascination of butterflies, dating back to childhood, was the foundation for “What It All Boils Down To” (silk textile made from moth cocoons and human hair). The art piece was part of Suspended Animations, a solo exhibition from her residency at Studio 41 in Glasgow in which she created new life out of discarded manmade or found natural materials.  As a child, she put dead butterflies that she found in matchboxes. “There’s something about their fragility that I’ve always found fascinating. One touch and you can damage their wings, but, at the same time, they are such amazing creatures,” she said. “They transform from caterpillars! The idea of the cocoon as a place of death, hibernation and rebirth is deeply fascinating to me. So I like the idea of taking something and turning it into something else. Nothing is wasted.”

"Shroud," archival pigment print, from Suspended Animations.

“Shroud,” archival pigment print, from Suspended Animations.

Her uncle passed away the year she had installed Suspended Animations. “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly” (from Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach) was one of his favorite quotes, according to Theresa. One Christmas he gave her a green enamel butterfly brooch and a lighter green enamel pendant. Throughout the entire ceremony at his funeral an emerald moth was fixed on the church window. “To me, it was like his soul had come to say: ‘Don’t forget me, I’m still around,'” she related.

"Old Stories Spun Anew," hand-spun audio book cassette tape, from Suspended Animation.

“Old Stories Spun Anew,” hand-spun audio book cassette tape, from Suspended Animation.

“Every time I see a butterfly or a moth, I think of him. It’s about life after death, at least in a symbolic sense,” Theresa explained. “As long as we remember people we’ve lost, they’re never truly gone. As long as we can find new purpose for something, it can have a second life.” Although she was referring to her art installation, one can see that her philosophy has come full circle to her latest creation, “The Third Dad.”

Shooting trees in fog, capturing the air of loneliness.

Shooting trees in fog, capturing the air of loneliness (photo credit: Richard Warden).

Note: You can see Theresa’s short film at LUNAFEST East Bay’s screening on Saturday, March 18th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Theater. For more information, click here.

Veena Rao: connecting people through film

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“I never was a dancer, but I can dance in water.”
 – member of The Harlem Honeys and Bears, from “The Honeys and Bears”

In Veena Rao’s LUNAFEST-selected short film, “The Honeys and Bears,” a group of women share their feelings of freedom in the water as part of synchronized swim team for seniors 55 years and older. “I wanted to make something fun, which reflected the joy that these ladies get from the water and from being on a team together,” said the Brooklyn-based filmmaker and producer. “Once I met the team, I really fell in love with them and looked forward to filming with them every time I had the chance.”

Freedom in the water. From "The Honeys and Bears."

Freedom in the water, from “The Honeys and Bears.”

Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Reed Flutes” from The Nutcracker Suite complements the women’s movements in the pool. One interesting thing is that while Veena conducted on-camera interviews, she left the footage on the editing room floor. Instead, she decided that “a chorus of voices under their routines made a more visually cohesive film.” And thematically, Veena pointed out, since they work as a team during their routines, each person’s role has equal importance. “It made sense to me to not focus on an individual, but rather create a portrait from different voices who all feel strongly about being on the team,” she explained.

Under water with members of the synchronized swim team.

Under water with members of the synchronized swim team.

Uncovering human motivation
Like “The Honeys and Bears,” many of Veena’s short films are documentaries. “In real life and when making films, I am interested in what drives people, what they feel passionate about, what brings them meaning, because it is the way I, and hopefully those watching my films, can connect to someone on a deeper level,” she revealed.

Sharing Abbas Sheikh's passion in "Mambai Mornings."

Sharing Abbas Sheikh’s passion in “Mambai Mornings.”

When you watch Veena’s documentaries, which are all accessible on her website, you see her subjects opening up about their dreams and fears, fully trusting the filmmaker behind the camera. In “Mumbai Mornings” (2015), Veena captures the world of Abbas Sheikh, who finds purpose in life as an ultramarathoner and hopes his success in running enables him to quit his 12-hour-a-day/six-to-seven-day-a-week job as a jewelry polisher in Mumbai.

In “Carla & Cecil” (2014), New York City-based performer Carla Rhodes related that as a nine-year-old she was mesmerized by ventriloquist Shari Lewis and her puppet Lambchop. While she dreams of one day making it big – she was featured in a local magazine about up-and-coming comedians – Carla airs the difficulty of being a ventriloquist in today’s show business. Along with her circa 1920s puppet Cecil Sinclair, she admitted, “I’m an outsider.” But through Veena’s lens, we view Carla with empathy and poignancy.

Veena behind the camera.

Veena behind the camera.

Veena has chosen diverse subjects for her documentaries – two women find joy in entering plus-size beauty pageants (“There She Is,” 2013, co-directed with Emily Sheskin), artist Heather Dewey-Hagborg exhibits masks of strangers she has created based on genetic material left behind (“Traces,” 2013, also co-directed with Sheskin), a nudist tries to practice his beliefs in an urban world (“Hangin’ Out,” 2010), an art collector struggles with the knowledge that artists’ works are going unseen in his private collection (“Not on View,” 2009), and an art dealer in New York City finds symmetry in his life as an Aikido instructor (“The Art of Balance,” 2008).

The key to drawing subjects out in documentaries is listening to their stories, according to Veena.

The key to drawing subjects out in documentaries is listening to their stories, according to Veena.

“I think the key to gaining the trust of someone you are filming, is to really listen to their story and be in the present moment with them,” Veena explained. “I think this is really hard to do, because you are constantly thinking of what you need to film, what questions you want to ask, but you really need to listen when you are making a documentary. And this is something I’m constantly trying to get better at.”

Many emerging filmmakers will agree that they want to be accepted into the best festivals, get backing to be released, and receive favorable reviews, Veena noted, “I think fundamentally, I want to make films that are deserving of the trust that the people I film with grant me. The reason I make documentaries is to connect to people, and experience their world for a little bit of time, and so truly representing their truth and point of view is so important to me.”  She went on, “I don’t believe that I can make an objective film or that objective films even exist, but I do believe in making films that give power to a character’s point of view and situation, and make the audience feel with those behind the screen.”

Memorable lines from "The Honeys and Bears": “The best part about getting old, you come to grips with many of the things you used to worry about when you were younger. And you’ve figured it out. That’s what I love about being a little older. I’ve figured a lot of things out.”

Memorable lines from “The Honeys and Bears”: “The best part about getting old, you come to grips with many of the things you used to worry about when you were younger. And you’ve figured it out. That’s what I love about being a little older. I’ve figured a lot of things out.”

From the seeds of creativity to the future
A high school photography class sparked Veena’s interest in filmmaking. “I loved the power of a photograph to connect you so deeply to a moment,” she said. “When I discovered film my freshman year of college, the possibility of creating the same connection with moving images and sound fascinated me, and I have been hooked ever since.”

Veena's second-grade teacher and he subject of her short film, "Mrs. Henderson's Kids."

Veena’s second-grade teacher and he subject of her short film, “Mrs. Henderson’s Kids.”

As a senior at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, she made a short film entitled “Mrs. Henderson’s Kids.” In her 2008 documentary, Veena’s former second-grade teacher shared the screen with her collection of more than 2,000 dolls and spoke of her love of teaching. “It’s one of my favorites because I think it reflects how she feels about her teaching career and her collection, and it also felt personal to me,” Veena explained. “It made me realize how deeply influential many teachers have been in my life.”

A photograph of Veena as a second grader in her short film, "Mrs. Henderson's Kids."

A photograph of Veena as a second grader in her short film, “Mrs. Henderson’s Kids.”

Her most recent work is the documentary “So You Think You Can Vote?” (2016), which incorporates animation, interviews, and archival footage. The short film was part of We the Voters: 20 Films for the People, a nonpartisan digital slate of 20 short films “designed to inform, inspire and activate voters nationwide with fresh perspectives on the subjects of democracy, elections and governance” leading up to the 2016 elections.

Veena, who is a member of the Brooklyn Filmmakers Collective and the New York Women in Film & Television Documentary Committee, is currently in production on a short documentary about two friends who are both 100 years old and whose friendship of 73 years and running dates back to when they met as nurses during World War II. And if that weren’t enough to keep her busy, she’s also in the research/pre-production phase on two films – one on a miniaturist and the other about a prisoner and his relationship to meditation.

Veena at the San Francisco premier of LUNAFEST in October 2016.

Veena at the San Francisco premier of LUNAFEST in September 2016.

“So far I’ve only made short films, so I’d love to make a feature documentary, and maybe a fiction film down the road,” Veena said. Another goal of hers: “I also want my voice to be strong and clear in my work, which I think is something that often takes time to achieve, and is something I’m working towards.” If her prolific filmography, created in a short period of time, is any indication, Veena is well on her way.

Note: You can see Veena’s short film at LUNAFEST East Bay’s screening on Saturday, March 18th, 7:30pm, at the El Cerrito High School’s Performing Arts Theater. For more information, click here.

Seattle book tour in review: Part 3, Yakima Valley

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The origin of the name remains unknown, though there are legends that describe the derivation of the city’s name. The most popular legend explains that the daughter of a Native American chief from Moxie ran away breaking tribal rules and settled on the Yakima River. In this legend the name Yakima means “runaway.” Another derivation of the name is what the Native Americans used to refer to Yakima as, “Beginning of Life, Big Belly, and Bountiful.”
– Yakima Valley Museum

The last leg of my Seattle book tour, along with Emmy Award-winning filmmaker Marissa Aroy, was in Yakima Valley. Our tour was sponsored by numerous generous organizations, including Pinoy Words Expressed Kultura Arts (KWEKA), Alaskero Foundation, El Centro de la Raza, the Meaningful Movies Project, Filipino American Students Association (FASA) of the University of Washington, 4 Culture, Office of Arts & Culture (Seattle), Filipino American Community of Greater Yakima Valley, Imperial Gardens, Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS) Chapter 26, and the FANHS National Office.

The perfect time to be visiting Yakima Valley.

The perfect time to be visiting Yakima Valley.

Amazing blue sky with cirrus clouds, fog in the hills, and fall across the valley floor.

Amazing blue sky with cirrus clouds, fog in the hills, and fall across the valley floor.

Not bad for taking photos through the window of a moving car! I wish I had time to stop and enjoy the scenery. Next time.

Not bad for taking photos through the window of a moving car! I wish I had time to stop and enjoy the scenery. Next time.

Maria Batayola served as our wonderful host for our book tour. She showed me a side of Seattle I had never seen (see my two previous news posts “Seattle book tour in review: Parts 1 and 2”), and for that, I am deeply grateful. On Saturday morning, October 22nd, my good friend John, who, along with his partner Kris, had welcomed me into their home for my stay in Seattle, dropped me off in Factoria, Wash., where I met up with Maria and Marissa, and away we drove to eastern Washington.

Layers of sky, cirrus clouds, foothills in fog, and forest.

Layers of sky, cirrus clouds, foothills in fog, and forest.

Just another photo of the spectacular sky.

Just another photo of the spectacular sky.

And mountains that will soon be covered with snow.

And mountains that will soon be covered with snow.

I’ve visited Seattle a number of times, but I’ve never been to the eastern part of the state. I had read David Guterson’s 1999 novel, East of the Mountains, and understood that where Seattle was lush, the eastern part of the state was arid. However, I was also told that the region would remind me of California’s Central Valley because it was rural farming land dotted with small communities.

Huge trees in Ellensburg, Wash.

Huge trees in Ellensburg, Wash.

Close-up of the blazing leaves.

Close-up of the blazing leaves.

The drive took some two and a half hours. Along the way, we saw some amazing landscape – clear streams meandering through different varieties of trees in spectacular gold, orange, and red. Bodies of water were low enough to reveal stumps of trees. And then we entered vast farmlands and signs for Honeycrisp apples. While Yakima Valley is the bread basket for numerous fruits and vegetables, the region is well known for its apples. Eastern Washington is home to more than 175,000 acres of apple orchards, with Yakima Valley being the largest apple-producing region in the state.

If you find yourself in Ellensburg, Wash., eating a meal at the Yellow Church Cafe is a must-do.

If you find yourself in Ellensburg, Wash., eating a meal at the Yellow Church Cafe is a must-do.

The interior of the restaurant.

The interior of the restaurant.

One of the best BLTs. Ever. Hands. Down.

One of the best BLTs. Ever. Hands. Down.

We stopped for lunch at this charming and popular restaurant called The Yellow Church Cafe (111 S. Pearl Street, Ellensburg, Wash. 98926, 509.933.2233), which, as you can guess, is a converted church. The food is heavenly, no pun intended. Whenever a BLT appears on the menu, that’s what I order. What was special about this BLT is that it made with their special bread, which tastes like a fluffy asiago cheese bagel, and instead of the tired mayonnaise, it had an aioli sauce. The chai latte was not overly sweet. The place was hopping. Afterwards, we wandered over to a brightly decorated house a few blocks down inhabited by happy artists. Ellensburg proved to be a quaint and beautiful town.

Entrance to the colorful and cheerful house at 101 N. Pearl Street.

Entrance to the colorful and cheerful house at 101 N. Pearl Street.

Beyond the colorful fence is a yard full of mischievous characters, including this runaway bear.

Beyond the colorful fence is a yard full of mischievous characters, including this runaway bear.

Art lives - indeed - and it also nourishes, brings beauty, gives hope, empowers, enables dreams, and so much more.

Art lives – indeed – and it also nourishes, brings beauty, gives hope, empowers, enables dreams, and so much more.

Key details and a hand waving hello and goodbye.

Key details and a hand waving hello and goodbye.

Found art of bicycle wheels makes a lovely tree.

Found art of bicycle wheels makes a lovely tree.

When we arrived in the town of Wapato, we were first met by Kuya Ray Pasqua, president of the Filipino American Community of Yakima Valley (FACYV). Kuya Ray is a leader in the community, but he also worked with Filipino American labor leader Larry Itliong during the years of the Delano Grape Strike and the United Farm Workers Union. It was an honor to meet him and to hear his stories of those difficult but very important times. FACYV’s Filipino Hall in Wapato, Wash., is the first Filipino Hall built in the United States. FACYV was preparing for its 60th anniversary the following evening, which is a big event that was anticipated to feed some 600 members of the community. It was too bad that Marissa and I would be leaving for home the following morning.

The first Filipino Community Hall in the country.

The first Filipino Community Hall in the country.

Let the 60th anniversary celebration begin!

Let the 60th anniversary celebration begin!

The Filipino Community Hall had a nice display of FACYV achievements through the years.

The Filipino Community Hall had a nice display of FACYV achievements through the years.

The Saturday evening event comprised a short reading from my novel, the screening of Marissa’s documentary, Delano Manongs: The Forgotten Heroes of the United Farm Workers Movement, and a panel discussion with Kuya Ray, Marissa, Maria and me, moderated by local reporter Ryan Yadao. Although attendance was light, the community members who showed up were very engaged in the subject and some had been involved in the farm labor movement, which was great to learn about and to meet them after the event. I can’t say it enough: It was an honor for me to hear of their sacrifices in the fields and across the country in the name of social justice for farm workers.

Group photo of some of the wonderful community members in Yakima Valley.

Group photo of some of the wonderful community members in Yakima Valley.

After the Q&A and book and DVD signing, we were invited to the home of FACYV members Fred Fontanilla, who is a retired chemist, and Bob Plummer, retired professor at Heritage University, for a wonderful dinner, which included great conversation among the 12 of us. And then FANHS Chapter 26 members Dori Peralta Baker and her husband Geoff Baker hosted us for the night. In the morning, we were treated to gorgeous views of Yakima Valley. Dori related the activity of casually counting the bald eagles and salmon in the streams, and how the hills are covered in snow in the wintertime. Dori had put together a display of local Filipino Americans who served in the Vietnam War. She told us the sobering news that Yakima Valley bearing the burden of being the region in the country with the most soldiers of color who fought in the Vietnam War. I should not be surprised, but I was still shocked by the fact that the high school counselors advised the Native American, Filipino American, and Mexican American boys to join the armed forces and serve in Vietnam War because they were not college material. I’m sure this practice was rampant across high schools in America at the time and to this day, but to have your home region bear that awful distinction is heartbreaking.

The beautiful view from our host's backyard.

The beautiful view from our host’s backyard.

Beautiful morning, looking for bald eagles.

Beautiful morning, looking for bald eagles. The hills in the background will be white with snow in the wintertime.

The canal feeds into the river, which I am assuming is the Yakima Valley River. Stunning.

The canal feeds into the river, which I am assuming is the Yakima Valley River. Stunning.

We left Yakima Valley early Sunday morning to return home. I learned so much while on this book tour and I met so many wonderful, giving people. And I saw another beautiful part of Washington State. I hope to return to Seattle and Yakima Valley in the near future – to this wonderful community that I now claim as part of my Filipino American home.

Heading back to Seattle and its fall foilage.

Heading back to Seattle and its fall foilage.

Mt. Rainier bids adieu.

Mt. Rainier bids adieu.

Seattle book tour in review: Part 2

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The sky in Seattle is so low, it felt like God had lowered a silk parachute on us.
– Maria Semple, American novelist and screenwriter

As part of Filipino American History Month, I embarked on a book tour in Seattle and Yakima Valley. Here is Part 2 of my chronicles of my time there.

Breakfast crepe and mocha at the Eastern Cafe in the International District.

Breakfast crepe and mocha at the Eastern Cafe in the International District.

While in Seattle, I stayed with my good friends, John and Kris. My husband, David, and John have known each other since pre-school. John was one of our groomsmen, and he is also the godfather of our son, Jacob. Friday morning, October 21st, John dropped me off at the Eastern Cafe in the International District, where I would later meet up with Marissa Aroy and our tour host Maria Batayola. a few doors down from the Eastern Cafe was the Eastern Hotel, which has a small Carlos Bulosan exhibit. It’s no longer a hotel, but apartments. I was able to get in and take pictures when one of the residents was leaving the building.

The Alps Hotel is now an apartment building, but the sign remains as a historical marker for being one of the hotels where immigrants stayed when they first arrived in Seattle.

The Alps Hotel is now an apartment building, but the sign remains as a historical marker for being one of the hotels where immigrants stayed when they first arrived in Seattle.

The historic Eastern Hotel.

The historic Eastern Hotel.

The modest sign at the Eastern Hotel, with my reflection.

The modest sign at the Eastern Hotel, with my reflection.

I was excited to see that the Carlos Bulosan quote on the wall of the Eastern Hotel is the quote that opens my novel.

I was excited to see that the Carlos Bulosan quote on the wall of the Eastern Hotel is the quote that opens my novel.

More historic photos in the Carlos Bulosan Museum Exhibit at the Eastern Hotel.

More historic photos in the Carlos Bulosan Museum Exhibit at the Eastern Hotel.

Eliseo Silva's Carlos Bulosan mural at the Eastern Hotel, 1999.

Eliseo Silva’s Carlos Bulosan mural at the Eastern Hotel, 1999.

Marissa Aroy and I met up at the Luke Wing Museum of the Asian Pacific American Experience (719 S. King Street, 206.623.5124) in the International District, upon recommendation by and as guests of Maria Batalyola, with Pinoy Words Expressed Kultura Arts (PWEKA) and the Filipino American National Historical Society (FANHS) National Office, who were also some of our sponsors for the trip.

The Wing Luke Museum in the International District, Seattle.

The Wing Luke Museum in the International District, Seattle.

Looking in from the outside.

Looking in from the outside.

"A Mend: a Local Collection of Scraps from Local Seamstresses and Tailors" by Aram Han Sifuentes, who explores the politics of what she describes as "immigrant sweated labor" in the U.S. "Constructed from denim remnants gathered in recent years from garment workers in the Chicago area, the piece introduces the challenges many women working in such employment face today: low wages, language barriers which limit employment options, tedious hours, and unregulated working conditions without union or collective bargaining protections."

“A Mend: a Local Collection of Scraps from Local Seamstresses and Tailors” by Aram Han Sifuentes, who explores the politics of what she describes as “immigrant sweated labor” in the U.S. “Constructed from denim remnants gathered in recent years from garment workers in the Chicago area, the piece introduces the challenges many women working in such employment face today: low wages, language barriers which limit employment options, tedious hours, and unregulated working conditions without union or collective bargaining protections.”

A close-up: "Sifuentes, who is of Korean origin and the daughter of a seamstress, gathers stories along with these textile scraps, the remnants of blue jeans, a garment inextricably linked to American identity. Calling her final pieces 'quilts,' Sifuentes challenges expectations further. While quilts are typically made by sewing a layer o batting between a top and bottom layer, here Sifuentes uses gaps - perhaps a metaphor for untold stories - as a middle layer."

A close-up: “Sifuentes, who is of Korean origin and the daughter of a seamstress, gathers stories along with these textile scraps, the remnants of blue jeans, a garment inextricably linked to American identity. Calling her final pieces ‘quilts,’ Sifuentes challenges expectations further. While quilts are typically made by sewing a layer o batting between a top and bottom layer, here Sifuentes uses gaps – perhaps a metaphor for untold stories – as a middle layer.”

I’m grateful that such a museum exists. It’s a beautiful building and space, but more importantly it celebrates so many underrepresented and underappreciated ethnic groups who made lasting and continuing contributions to American history and culture. The Wing is “dedicated to immersing you in uniquely American stories of survival, success, conflict, compassion and hope. Through our guided tours and ongoing exhibitions, you can experience real life stories of the Asian Pacific American community.” An exhibit on Bruce Lee and a sobering and harrowing history of Cambodia’s “killing fields” and emigration from the country are currently being shown.

Letter Cloud by Susie Kozawa (b. 1949) and Erin Shie Palmer (b. 1957), 2008. Reproduced archival letters on paper and audio of letters being read: "here is this place of immigrant stories, the view of the sky recalls the expanse of ocean crossed to reach this new home in America, a crossing that must now be made by words o love and longing sent to those back home."

Letter Cloud by Susie Kozawa (b. 1949) and Erin Shie Palmer (b. 1957), 2008. Reproduced archival letters on paper and audio of letters being read: “here is this place of immigrant stories, the view of the sky recalls the expanse of ocean crossed to reach this new home in America, a crossing that must now be made by words o love and longing sent to those back home.”

Me amid "Letter Cloud": "The cloud cover of paper floats these words across tie and space in the form of letters - tegami - hand-written carriers of hope and dreams, stories of daily life and connection between family and friends. And here, amidst sounds of the open sky and sea, are soft voices speaking words that are carried in the letters home."

Me amid “Letter Cloud”: “The cloud cover of paper floats these words across tie and space in the form of letters – tegami – hand-written carriers of hope and dreams, stories of daily life and connection between family and friends. And here, amidst sounds of the open sky and sea, are soft voices speaking words that are carried in the letters home.”

One of the main exhibits honors Asian Pacific Islanders Americans who emigrated from their home countries in search of a better life.

One of the main exhibits honors Asian Pacific Islanders Americans who emigrated from their home countries in search of a better life.

Poster instructing local Japanese Americans of mandatory internment.

Poster instructing local Japanese Americans of mandatory internment.

A miniature bunkhouse in a local internment camp.

A miniature bunkhouse in a local internment camp.

One room is dedicated to Filipino Americans.

One room is dedicated to Filipino Americans.

A Filipino American collage and timeline.

A Filipino American collage and timeline.

In the afternoon, Maria gave us a mini tour of historic sites in the International District. Maria was instrumental in the creation of the Filipino American Historical kiosk, “Honoring Filipino Americans in Chinatown International District, 1911-2010,” at the corner of S. Weller Street and 6th Avenue South. The kiosk will be formally dedicated in early November.

Filipino American Historical kiosk.

Filipino American Historical kiosk.

The other side of the kiosk - a history lesson.

The other side of the kiosk – a history lesson.

Marissa's a pro with selfies.

Marissa’s a pro with selfies.

Later, we crossed the José Rizal Bridge, which “carries 12th Avenue South over South Dearborn Street and Interstate 90 in Seattle, connecting the International District to Beacon Hill.” One of the first permanent steel bridges in the City, the beautiful verdis green bridge was originally called the 12th Avenue South Bridge or the Dearborn Street Bridge before it was renamed in 1974 in honor of the Filipino patriot and national hero José Rizal. The bridge was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1982, however, under its original name. Dr. José Rizal Park, on the west side of Beacon Hill boasts a view of south downtown, Elliott Bay, Safeco Park – home of the Seattle Mariners MLB team – and the Seattle Seahawks’ CenturyLink Field. The 9.6-acre parcel of land was purchased by the Parks Department in 1971 and dedicated in 1979.

Bust of Jose Rizal.

Bust of Jose Rizal.

"East is West" by Val Laigo, 1981: "This tryptich is dedicated to all of Filipino persuasion the residents and denizens of Beacon Hill instead anyone who still enjoys and exercises a sense of humor and good will...." - Val Laigo.

“East is West” by Val Laigo, 1981: “This tryptich is dedicated to all of Filipino persuasion the residents and denizens of Beacon Hill instead anyone who still enjoys and exercises a sense of humor and good will….” – Val Laigo.

Maria also gave us a tour of the historic Panama Hotel, located in the International District. Designed by Japanese-American architect Sabro Ozasa and built in 1910, the Panama Hotel, a National Historic Landmark and National Treasure, housed a Japanese bath house, businesses, restaurants, and sleeping quarters for residents and visitors. Jan Johnson, who is the third owner of the hotel, restored the building to its condition before the Japanese in Seattle were evacuated. From what I understand, a number of Japanese American families stored their belongings in the basement of the Panama Hotel, with the hope of returning home, which many did not. Johnson closed off the basement that holds the belongings of the Japanese families to the public, and has installed a glass panel in the floorboards for visitors to view the artifacts from above. It’s quite moving.

The entrance of the historic Panama Hotel.

The entrance of the historic Panama Hotel.

A very cool retro look at the stairs from the entrance of the hotel.

A very cool retro look at the stairs from the entrance of the hotel.

The National Historic Landmark plaque.

The National Historic Landmark plaque.

The lower level of the Panama Hotel's cafe boasts historic black-and-white photos on the brick walls and comfortable tables for coffee and tea.

The lower level of the Panama Hotel’s cafe boasts historic black-and-white photos on the brick walls and comfortable tables for coffee and tea.

The window to the basement: the contents belonging to interned Japanese-American families have never been touched since they were left there during WWII. A chilling and sad sight.

The window to the basement: the contents belonging to interned Japanese-American families have never been touched since they were left there during WWII. A chilling and sad sight.

Black-and-white photos chronicling the times when Japanese American families thrived in Seattle before WWII.

Black-and-white photos chronicling the times when Japanese American families thrived in Seattle before WWII.

A close-up black-and-white photograph depicting life in Seattle in the Japanese-American community.

A close-up black-and-white photograph depicting life in Seattle in the Japanese-American community.

The inside of the storefront window showcasing artifacts.

The inside of the storefront window showcasing artifacts.

The inside of the storefront window showcasing artifacts.

The other exhibit in the storefront window of the Panama Hotel.

Farewell, Panama Hotel! Next time we will have to stay longer and have a pastry and cup of tea.

Farewell, Panama Hotel! Next time we will have to stay longer and have a pastry and cup of tea.

We made my first trip to the FANHS National Office (810 18th Avenue, #100, 206.322.0204), located within Lake Washington Girls Middle School. Although I saw Dorothy Cordova, Executive Director and Co-founder, with her late husband, of the Filipino American National Historical Society, at the 2016 FANHS Conference in New York City, this meeting represented my first introduction to “Auntie” Dorothy. I presented my novel to Auntie Dorothy as a gift to the FANHS Library.

Auntie Dorothy and me with my novel (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Auntie Dorothy and me with my novel (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Collage with a group picture of Joan May Cordova, Marissa, Auntie Dorothy, Maria, and me.

Collage with a group picture of Joan May Cordova, Marissa, Auntie Dorothy, Maria, and me.

Marissa and I enter the "Catacombs" (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Marissa and I enter the “Catacombs” (photo courtesy of Maria Batayola).

Marissa and I were treated to a visit to the FANHS archives, also known as the “catacombs,” where specially built shelves house hundreds of boxes of files on Filipino Americans. While Marissa looked through her file, I doubted that I had a file on me. To my surprise, I found two files – under Patty Enrado and Patricia Enrado – with correspondences that I had written to FANHS in 2005-2006, among them requesting contact information for a project on the Filipino Manilamen, which I ended up abandoning. I also sent a link to my short story, “We Are Thinking of You,” which had won an award in 2002 from Serpentine e-zine, and a journal that had published one of my other short stories. I didn’t save the online short story as a pdf, which was a shame because at some point this year the site was taken down and the link broken, forever erasing the existence of the story as is (I had various revisions of the story but no final Word version that matched the printed version). I was ecstatic, therefore, to take pictures of the printed story, and now I’ll have to figure out a way to get it up on my author website.

A letter I wrote to FANHS nearly 17 years ago!

A letter I wrote to FANHS nearly 17 years ago!

Boxes and boxes of files in the catacombs.

Boxes and boxes of files in the catacombs.

Political posters of every Filipino American candidate for office in the U.S. on the walls.

Political posters of every Filipino American candidate for office in the U.S. on the walls.

Originally, Maria was going to treat the three of us to dinner at Kusina Filipina (3201 Beacon Avenue S., 206.322.9433), but the place closed just as we walked up. The silver lining, however, was choosing Bar del Corso (3057 Beacon Avenue S., 206.395.2069, www.bardelcorso.com), a pizzeria, restaurant on Beacon Hill, as our backup destination a block away. Maria let us know that the wife who owns the restaurant with her husband, Jeff Corso, who is chef and general manager, is Filipino. Auntie Dorothy pointed out that a framed Filipino family photograph hangs in a hallway in the restaurant. Gina Tolentino Corso, the marketing and creative manager, is a freelance graphic designer, a painter and illustrator, and “lover of good food.” Her artwork – big, bold, and colorful paintings – hangs on the walls of the restaurant. Maria had announced to our waiter Auntie Dorothy’s presence and her title. So it should not have come as a surprise that Gina came to our table and said, “You must be the table of Filipino American women.” She was a delight to meet. When told of my book, she expressed interest in reading it. And although I didn’t ask where she was originally from, she attended UC Davis. Ah, the Aggie connection again in the Pacific Northwest!

Fall in the International District, Seattle.

Fall in the International District, Seattle.

I have to talk about the food because it was phenomenal – simply and deceptively prepared but complex and flavorful in taste. We ordered two salads, one of which had bits of crunchy savory crackers. We also ordered Polpettine (house-made meatballs in tomato sauce), Vongole Alla Marinara (Manila clams, garlic, controne pepper, cherry tomatoes, white wine, extra virgin olive oil, and parsley), Grilled Octopus (with corona beans, lacinato kale, spicy ‘Nduja salame, and extra virgin olive oil), and a pizza – Funghi, with crimini mushrooms, house-made sausage, cherry tomatoes, pecorino, and fontina. Family-style serving enabled us to sample everything. We ate everything and were happily sated. The next time I’m in Seattle, I’m returning to Bar del Corso.

Friday evening, as part of Celebrating 2016 Filipino American History Month, Marissa screened her film and I read a short excerpt at the Centilia Cultural Center at Plaza Roberto Maestas (1660 S. Roberto Maestas Festival Street, Seattle). The center recently opened after restoration of an old school house and the building of affordable housing and community-use buildings. What a beautiful project El Centro de la Raza took on! El Centro de la Raza, “the Center for People of All Races,” is “a voice and a hub for the Latino community” as they “advocate on behalf of” its “people and work to achieve social justice.” The evening’s theme reflected the mission of the nonprofit. Maria and Estela Ortega, executive director of El Centro de la Raza, welcomed the audience. Estela related that she had worked in the fields in Texas and was active in the United Farm Workers union but never knew that the Filipino American farm workers initiated the Great Delano Grape Strike of 1965 and were instrumental in the formation of the UFW. One of the goals of the evening of reading and screening was to highlight Filipino-American contributions to the farm labor movement, strengthen ties among Filipino and Latino workers, and honor Larry Itliong’s Northwest labor leadership and contribution with the local IBU salmon cannery workers.

A panel discussion followed, which included Auntie Dorothy, Marissa, Ray Pascua, farmworker organizer and President of the Greater Yakima Valley Filipino American Community, and Rick Guirtiza, Vice President of the International Boatman’s Union Local, Maritime Division of ILWU. I met the University of Washington students who are members of the Filipino American Student Association (FASA) and a handful of audience members who were interested in my book. Maraming salamat to Alaskero Foundation, 4Culture, Seattle Office of Arts & Cultural Affairs, FANHS National and PWEKA, who sponsored the Friday evening reading.

(to be continued….)