Meet the Cebu artists bringing art to the streets

“This isn’t my fault,” street artist Payter says with an ironic tone as he gestures towards the organized chaos unfolding before him. Lean, hard-bodied and lightly bearded, Payter is slumped against a green Monobloc chair, a bright blue pineapple-print snapback on his head.

It’s nine o’clock in the morning on a Sunday, he is hungover and fellow street artists have descended upon Kukuk’s Nest, his gallery-slash-restaurant-slash-bar along Gorordo Avenue.

Roller brushes and spray paint cans are pulled out from backpacks as his guests, some dressed in clothes already splattered with old paint, double back and head outside to take over the metal sheet gate of the abandoned house next door.

Surrounded by cheap eateries, hotels and auto dealers, the Kukuk’s Nest Restaurant and Pension House sticks out like a peacock in a brood of chickens. It’s impossible to miss – the gate is covered in shadowy skulls and the entire two-level façade has been swallowed up by a mishmash of colors.

Worm-like beasts crawl up the walls of the second floor, while geometric graffiti blankets the door leading to the garage-turned-bar below. Inside the Nest, the small art gallery has been painted yellow and red, and currently on display are starkly inked skeletal figures by a street artist who goes by the moniker Sam Pipebomb. Next to the gallery space is the toilet, a cartoon of a man playing guard on the door.

There’s politicking in the galleries and most collectors only pick up established names anyway. It intensifies the need – and drive – to just do things yourself.

Originally established by his parents in 1989 as a book café with a small art gallery, Payter transformed Kukuk’s Nest into a bar and artist-run space when he took over it in 2001. Since then, it has functioned as a venue for gigs, art shows and film screenings – Payter is also a filmmaker and video artist – while remaining a hangout for the writers, artists and musicians who were attracted to the original establishment.

Street and graffiti artists have since also found a special place here. As I sit on the veranda with Payter, I can barely make out the original colors of the doors and walls which have all been plastered with stickers, or imagine what the ceiling must have been like before it was diligently covered in lomographic prints. “This was a family business, but when I inherited it,” Payter says before pausing for a comic beat, “…boom!”

Around the same time he took over the business, Payter co-founded Ubec Crew, one of Cebu’s first street art collectives. “The art scene was dead back then,” he explains. “I studied fine arts in university, but after graduating I didn’t have a chance of getting into the galleries. So I figured, fine, let’s just do it on the streets.”

***

CEBU IS THE OLDEST CITY IN THE PHILIPPINES. It is also a province rich in cultural traditions, with two universities offering fine arts programs. Yet the city has no modern or contemporary art museum and only two small galleries. Soika Vomiter, a tattooed and curly-haired street artist, finds this limiting. “It’s hard, being a full-time artist here,” he says. “There’s politicking in the galleries and most collectors only pick up established names anyway. It intensifies the need – and drive – to just do things yourself.”

Soika started painting on the street when he was an art student five years ago. At his peak, he would finish 40 street pieces a year. But since he recently started focusing on his studio work, the warped and distorted faces that characterize his street art have made fewer appearances in the city.

One impressive example of Soika’s work can be found just off Sepulveda Street, right by Plaza Nouvelle. It’s a chain of faces about ten feet long, all warped, some grinning, others stretched out and distorted beyond recognition. “I painted this for my birthday last year,” Soika tells me. “It was impulsive, and I only planned it out when I was at the space. Like more of my work, it comes from my experiences.”

Just a five-minute walk down adjoining Rahmann Street and outside the streetwear shop Deadways is a striking mural of a mother and child. Drawn in sharp edges and lines, they cast mischievous smiles at the viewer. Bordering them are two more cheerful yet menacing faces, lasers shooting out of their eyes on a backdrop of water droplets that may actually be an unsettling number of eyes.

“That’s my wife and kid,” the street artist Bart Bombs tells me as a steady stream of laughter escapes from his impressively bearded face. “My wife’s dad is a cop – but that just makes me feel more challenged.”

Bart Bombs, like Payter, is one of the scene’s respected artists. When he started twelve years ago, he was just tagging his name on random walls. Then he joined Payter’s Ubec Crew. From merely spelling out his name in spray paint, he began drawing four-eyed smileys, eventually graduating to murals.

These days, he collaborates with his younger brother, who goes by the moniker Yummy. Together, as Bart Bros, they are the most prolific street artists in the city, painting murals together once a month and pasting posters on walls and telephone posts almost every day. “I don’t want to stop,” Bart Bombs says, still chuckling. “I’ve already spent a lot – and it’s only in street art that I’ve found enjoyment like this.”

***

“THE GRAFFITI SCENE IS BOOMING IN CEBU,” says Paolo Abellana – also known as Chinokoy – who was once a member of Ubec Crew and is now part of Aerosoul, a group organizing street parties that range from hip-hop parties to artist battles and graffiti free-for-all meets.

“People are learning more about the art form. Some building owners are even offering up their walls. Good paints and materials are now available. Local brands identified with other subcultures – like punk, hip-hop, skateboarding – also support us, and we do the same for them,” he says.

This united front has also inspired and attracted artists and tourists from out of town. On a side street off General Maxilom Avenue are works by Garapata and Anino, both from Manila. Lining Tojong Street are colorful graffiti by tourists from Singapore, Australia and Zimbabwe. “At some point the government also wanted to make a map for Cebu’s street art,” says Chinokoy. “But now they want to ban graffiti? That’s stupid.”

Cebu City’s anti-littering ordinance – which includes unlawful posting and putting up of graffiti – has been in effect since the ’90s but remains largely unenforced. However, in the past two years, there have been serious attempts to put it into action.

A separate anti-vandalism ordinance was also filed in May, though its passage has been deferred as the Cebu City Council considers expanding the anti-littering ordinance to better address graffiti instead. Mayor Tommy Osmeña has been vocal about reducing vandalism in his city and wants to regulate the use of aerosol spray paints.

It’s not clear, however, if street art is considered vandalism. A call to the local police hotline confirms that street artists can still paint murals – they just need to apply for a permit from the mayor’s office.

People are learning more about the art form. Some building owners are even offering up their walls.

Back in Kukuk’s Nest, it is past noon. Done painting the abandoned house next door, the crew reconvene and call it a day, leaving behind elaborate graffiti in bright blues; a wide-eyed face gaping at the sight of blood; a toothy vampire grinning on a backdrop of bones.

Before the day ends, pictures of the new works are uploaded to social media by motorcyclists waiting for the traffic lights to turn green, eagle-eyed jeepney passengers as well as pedestrians. Street art is a true equalizer in a field notorious for its elitism.

“Normal people – workers, commuters, drivers – don’t normally get the chance to appreciate art,” Payter says. “But we’ve introduced that appreciation to so many people. We’ve shown them that art isn’t just in the gallery or for the rich. We brought it to the streets.”