Dambana

In Dambana, the sacred becomes a prism through which we examine the most defining structures of human life—its rituals, its symbols, and the narratives that sustain it. The term dambana refers to an altar or shrine, a physical and symbolic space where reverence, memory, and devotion converge. For Filipinos, it is a repository of cultural identity and collective memory, embodying the tension between continuity and rupture that defines the sacred in human experience.

The exhibit probes the concept of the sacred as both a cultural artifact and a socio- political mechanism, compelling us to reflect on what we revere, why we revere it, and what such reverence demands of us. The imagery refuses to be confined by static representations, instead, it portrays symbols of devotion as living, breathing constructs—always entwined with systems of power, always subject to negotiation and reinterpretation. Figures like Homer and Tolkien, whose epics and myths have shaped western cultural consciousness, stand alongside Musk and Zuckerberg, contemporary purveyors of technology-driven ideologies. These figures serve as creators of modern dambana, crafting narratives that condition human behavior under the guise of progress. Their works and innovations, celebrated as milestones, subtly reinforce the power structures that limit human agency and deepen social inequalities.

Within this tension between the past and the present, the artist foregrounds a potent and often neglected force: memory. As he observes, memory is a latent reservoir of power, a source of both individual and collective renewal. And yet, memory, when erased or suppressed, becomes a tool for domination. We are reminded that colonization, severed the Filipino people from their indigenous stories, replacing them with alien gods, alien
names, and alien histories. This violent displacement left a void in cultural imagination, leaving a society adrift in fragments. But in the fractures of this erasure lies hope—the possibility of reclaiming lost narratives and recovering the creativity that springs from rootedness in one’s own history.

Nowhere is this duality of oppression and liberation more evident than in the role of institutional religion. For centuries, organized faith has wielded immense influence over Filipino lives, often as an instrument of colonial domination. Yet, faith has also been a source of empowerment, particularly through movements like liberation theology, which realign religion with the struggles of the marginalized. This duality prompts reflection: how might faith be disentangled from its complicity with power and reimagined as a force
for human flourishing?

At the heart of this exploration is the figure of José Rizal. Revered as a national hero, Rizal’s Europeanized image exemplifies a colonial legacy that values Filipino identity only insofar as it mirrors Western ideals. Garibay, however, challenges this idolization, suggesting that Rizal must be reimagined—not as a static monument to colonial subjugation but as a model for critical engagement with identity and history. This
reframing asks us to consider what it means to be inspired by Rizal rather than confined by his representation.

In the end, the exhibit is a call to action—a demand that we confront the fractures of our identity, the commodification of culture, and the apathy that permeates our collective consciousness. This is not an invitation to nostalgia but to renewal, to a rediscovery of the sacred as something alive and dynamic, capable of inspiring resistance against the forces that seek to diminish human dignity. Through its profound reflections and urgent critiques, this exhibition transforms the dambana from a site of unquestioned devotioninto a space of possibility, dialogue, and hope.

The question it leaves us with is not only what we honor as sacred but also how those choices shape the stories we tell about ourselves. In the act of choosing, the works insists, lies the power to reclaim our agency and reimagine the world.