Album packaging design is fast becoming a dying art now that acquiring music is just a mouse-click away. And as someone who used to design cd sleeves for a living, this saddens me because back in the day, eye-catching covers played a huge role in making sure that records are noticed and eventually purchased. I believe that having a tangible work of art in front of you can increase the enjoyment of the overall listening experience and I ‘m sure you’ll agree that there’s nothing quite as pleasurable as poring through the pages of a fresh-off-the-press, beautifully-designed album sleeve while the corresponding music plays in the background.

So now I present to you five creative album covers that have inspired designers like me to think out-of-the-box when creating album art. I hope that we get to see more efforts in producing gems like these despite the progression of the digital age.

1.

Pearl Jam’s Vitalogy – The package itself is a card stock-bound booklet made to look like a vintage medical volume from the 1920s. This theme continues throughout inside via layouts containing chicken-scratch scribbles and page scans of the said book. Despite the fact that the cover is an almost-exact duplicate of the original medical book’s cover (see comparison below), we have to remember that his album was released in 1994 and so I consider it “groundbreaking” in that it was the first of its kind to break out of the usual plastic jewel case + accordion sleeve/booklet formula. (Art director: Joel Zimmerman)

2.

Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Sweet Revenge – I love the striking canary yellow-on-blue image and the unapologetic simplicity of the cover layout. When you open the case, you will see more of the same vibrant photography on loose-leaf cards that contain playfully-arranged lyrics on the underside. (Art director: Robert Bergman)

3.

Smashing Pumpkins’ Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness – This is an excellent example of music and sleeve art working together to create symbiosis. However brilliant Billy Corgan’s music in this album is, the overall listening experience will never be complete without Frank Olinsky’s stunning Victorian-style illustrations in the sprawling double album’s booklet. Together they form an audio-visual masterpiece. (Art director: Frank Olinsky)

4.

Lou Reed’s Set The Twilight Reeling – Design genius Stefan Sagmeister had the fantastic idea of inserting the yellow-tinted liner in an midnight-colored jewel case so that at first glance, the cover looks simply like a dark blue photo of Lou Reed. Once the sleeve is pulled out however, Reed literally emerges from the twilight and sunny rays in the background are revealed, creating an unexpectedly interactive visual experience. (Art director: Stefan Sagmeister)

5.

The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band – I don’t think any “best album cover” list will ever be complete without this classic. Originally designed for an LP, the packaging shows a colourful collage of life-sized cardboard models of famous people which came with a page of cut-outs and a special inner sleeve that featured a multi-coloured psychedelic pattern. To think that this was done and conceptualized when Photoshop had not even been invented yet — you’ve got to love the Fab Four for thinking way ahead of their time. The Grammy Award-winning album packaging was created by art director Robert Fraser, mostly in collaboration with McCartney, designed by Peter Blake, his wife Jann Haworth, and photographed by Michael Cooper.

What are your all-time favorite album covers? Post a comment below.

- Cynthia Bauzon-Arre

The State of the Nation Episode
Wow, Philippines. Wow Art.
Cultural Ambassadors: Susan Calo-Medina, Yael Buencamino, Christina Dy, Yason Banal (Ateneo Art Awards), Alexis Tioseco
ROCK ED RADIO / JULY 29 / 9PM-12AM / JAM88.3FM

Acknowledging a Recognition vs. Appreciating an Achievement

John Berger, in his acceptance speech upon receiving the Booker Prize for his novel ‘G’ in 1972, spoke of the meaning of prizes:
“Since you have awarded me this prize, you may like to know, briefly, what it means to me. The competitiveness of prizes I find distasteful. And in the case of the prize the publication of the shortlist, the deliberately publicized suspense, the speculation of writers concerned as though they were horses, the whole emphasis on winners and losers is false and out of place in the context of literature.

Nevertheless prizes act as a stimulus-not to writers themselves but to publishers, readers and booksellers. And so the basic cultural value of a prize depends upon what it is a stimulus to.”

**

“Why is it, that when an athlete competes and succeeds on the world stage, as in the case Manny Pacquiao, the entire country is united in cheering him on, but when a filmmaker competes and wins in a prestigious film festival, this isn’t always the case?” An eminent scholar on Southeast Asia questioned the programmer of an important Southeast Asian film festival during a film conference in Manila late last year.

The programmer had been discussing the nature of film festivals. While I don’t recall everything he said, I remember two things quite clearly, the first an anecdote, the second a statement. They may have been the reason for the scholar’s question or they may have been the answer to it. What matters now is simply to recount them:

Anecdote: “Malaysian filmmaker U-Wei Haji Saari has vowed to always premiere his films in Malaysia before showing them in any film festival in the world, and he does it. That’s why I respect U-Wei: he knows who he is making his films for.”
Statement: “I don’t give a fuck about Cannes.”

The scholar couldn’t have known the gravity with which his question would resonate months later, when Filipino director Brillante Mendoza was given the Best Director Prize at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival for his Kinatay, causing impassioned discussion (with merit of otherwise) about the award, and the manner in which it was acknowledged on local shores.
**

Boxing is a sport, and as such is a spectacle of the moment. When Manny Pacquiao wins a boxing match, we witness the reason for the achievement – the fight itself – either by watching it on TV, listening to it on the radio, catching a replay on YouTube or seeing the highlights on the news. We celebrate what we saw and felt, the achievement we were able to participate in.
When a director wins a prize at a foreign film festival we read or hear about it in the news and unless we have seen and think highly of the film ourselves (so rare a case given that our films that win prizes are seldom the ones widely screened), when we celebrate, we celebrate the fact of their recognition, but not, as in the case Manny Pacquiao, the reason for their achievement itself. It often involves what we call blind faith.
This is the great difference between art and sport: in sport the greatness of an athlete’s skill is tested on the world’s stage; in art we look to the world not to test our greatness (which is, unlike sport, is not quantifiable) but simply to acknowledge it. If Manny Pacquiao had only fought local fighters, we wouldn’t be able to tell how good he really was or what he was capable of as a boxer: it is crucial to understanding the immensity of an athlete’s skill that he go outside of the country and fight the best in the world, for the extent of his ability be tested. To remain at home and continue fighting inferior boxers would be to waste his ability.

When a Filipino director wins an award at a film festival abroad, we swell with a distinctly different kind of pride, because the recognition a film (or any other work of art) receives abroad doesn’t change the nature or quality of that work of art. The work remains the same; at most, it is our perception of it that changes. Art is not sport and neither is it competition, sport relies on competition to test ability; ability in art cannot be measured by competition and neither can it reasonably be validated by it: it is industries that organize competitions in the arts in order to put concrete value on what is otherwise intangible: beauty.
***

Brillante Mendoza’s victory in Cannes has been received, if not lauded, by the following local institutions: the City of Mandulong (where he resides), the Province of Pampanga (where he is from), University of Santo Tomas (his Alma Mater), the Director’s Guild of the Philippine Islands (of which he is a member), and the President of the Republic (who, with great craft and in a single sentence, turned her praise of Mendoza into praise of herself, and whose recognition comes with a One Million Peso ‘thank you for bringing the country pride’ check). Mendoza has taken an appropriately cool stance to all the fanfare: “there is a lot of attention but in a week or two, everything will be back to normal”. Many in the media, however, have voiced their displeasure, wondering, as our scholar did at the beginning of the article, why Mendoza wouldn’t receive an even warmer welcome, one similar, say, to the type Pacquiao receives?

While a marching band, a grand dinner, a parade or even a million pesos are all appealing gestures, they are effused more with the pomp of celebration than any authentic attempt at appreciation: a facile way of saying we acknowledge the recognition you have received – a sentiment giving greater premium to outsider recognition than to the work itself. A proposition for the future: perhaps a more generous way to show appreciation for the work of our artists, should we truly believe the work itself important and not just the recognition: show them.

Just imagine: how many free screenings could be sponsored for a million pesos?
–

With thanks to Nika Bohinc.

(Originally published in the Philippines Free Press July 18, 2009.)

- by Alexis Tioseco

Editor’s Note: The potent but rather uneasy relationship between politics and pop music has always been contentious. In America, where “pop music” (i.e. records produced specifically for a market of teenagers) was borne in the 1950′s, it heralded also a shift in how their leaders were elected. Arguably, JFK was the first “pop idol”. There are those who consider the Live Aid concerts in the 1980′s produced by punk also-ran Bob Geldof as the culmination of this union. But between U2′s Bono waving a white flag to Elton John rehashing his Marilyn Monroe tribute for Princess Di, it all just seemed humorless. And that can only be shame since music is after all supposed to be fun. (Politics only less so but just because the joke’s almost always on us.) Perhaps the following piece—written by Philippines Free Press Associate Editor Ricky Torre—is a welcome step back into irreverence.

Can We Just Stop And Talk A While (The Situationist Version)

Music by Jose Mari Chan

Lyrics by Jose Mari Chan and Karl Marx

Fancy meeting you alone in the crowd,

couldn’t help but notice your smile.
While the hoi polloi around us is going about,
can we just stop and talk awhile?

I’ve been often told the pretty-bourgeois

is a social class that’s harder to fight.
Do tell me more about yourself
for my reeducation, if you won’t mind?

A social investigation

awaits the sub-committee
right down in the countryside.
Liberation from cash payment,

hurly-burly of the city life.

Criticism self-criticism.
It’s the first day of the rest of our lives.
Can we just stop and talk awhile

et nous sommes le pouvoir,

sommes tous indesirarles.

There is no place in the struggle for the liberals.
Let’s stop and talk awhile

Let’s stop and talk awhile

Let’s stop and talk awhile

Let’s stop and talk awhile

(the original version)

Movements of Movements: AKO ANO. IKAW TAYA. KAYA NATIN. NAMAN. NAMAN.
GUESTS
Jaime Garchitorena (Youth Vote)
Atty. Alex Lacson (Ano Taya Mo?)
Dale Diaz
Kai Pastores and
Councilor Bolet Banal (Kaya Natin)
ROCK ED RADIO / JULY 22, 2009 / JAM 88.3FM / 9PM-12AM

Shot in CDO (Gusa Arena) and directed by Gang Badoy, this public service ad is part of the RETHINK campaign of ROCK ED PHILIPPINES for the coming 2010 elections. www.sinongmasokey.org

Women of Power
Guests:
Akbayan Rep. Risa Hontiveros
Carlos Celdran
RJ Ledesma
Rock Ed Radio / July 15, 2009 / 9pm-12am / Jam 88.3FM

I love food. More than just the way it tastes, I love exploring its texture, the way it feels in my mouth, the way its different consistencies come together. And while there’s a lot of pressure nowadays to eat food that’s rare, exotic and, for lack of a better word, sosyal, in restaurants that charge you an arm and a leg for breathing their air and using their million peso bathroom, and while I have nothing against establishments like these, as they do serve good food and more often that not, you do get what you pay for, I find that sometimes, the best food is the one you find in your own backyard. Or in this case, your own street.

I am a big fan of street food. Greasy, fattening, of dubious cleanliness, street food is the lifeblood of any nation. It’s the food of the masses, the food that people can eat anywhere, anytime, whenever hunger strikes them. There is a certain delight to be had from dunking a barbecue stick filled with skewered fishballs into a big bottle of sweet-spicy sauce and trying to eat the whole thing before all the sauce drips to the ground. At least, it’s fun until you see the big, funky-smelling mustachioed man with the oily hair and half-shirt beside you double-dunk his.

Street food often gets a bad rap for lack of hygiene but its great taste, convenience and low prices has often transcended class, educational and economic strata, as any colegiala who has made tusok-tusok the fishballs will tell you.
Why do I think Pinoys love street food so much? There are five factors:

It’s cheap – I think this needs no explanation
It’s convenient – You can find it anywhere, anytime. It’s a great way to keep your tummy from rumbling in between main meals.
It’s fresh (or supposed to be fresh) – most street food is cooked right in front of you (like isaw and fishballs), or served warm (like taho and balut).
It’s hot (or cold) – The temperature of the food make a nice contrast to how your day is going (bad day? Most comfort food consists of something warm and oily) or how the day’s temperature actually is (hot day? Eat something cool)
It’s tasty – again, this needs no explanantion

Many people ask, what’s a nice Chinese girl like me doing near a fishball stand at the corner of EDSA? Like I said, I love food, and I think it’s silly to be in a place without trying its street fare. I don’t understand how people who will buy pad thai at a roadside stand in Bangkok or pay for pulled tea from a street kiosk in India will turn their noses up at our own fishballs, taho (bean curd) and kwek kwek (boiled quail eggs coated in bright orange batter and deep fried). Mind you, there are some street food I won’t eat, such as name-this-gut-on-a-stick, and only because I don’t feel the need to try them yet. I’m sure that I will in the long run, but for now, I an still eating my fill of puto and kutsinta, turon, cheese-flavored corn and dirty ice cream (not really dirty, as freezing kills germs).
Of course, the cleanliness thing is no laughing matter. I know one person who got hepatitis from eating fishballs, but that didn’t stop her from having a go again after she got released from the hospital. To address this, a lot of street food vendors, especially in regulated areas like the UP Diliman campus, have been taking extra care to keep their food clean. Instead of dunking your food into a bottle of sauce and re-dunking it again when you run out, you are now given a paper plate to keep your sauce in. Now, he sauces are kept in plastic pourable containers so that you can have as much as you want, without endangering other people.
On some level, eating street food is about feeling the pulse of the people. On another, it’s about having a really good meal. Sometimes, it’s only the later that matters.

-Yvette Tan

Sex, Lies, and Who Uses Tape?
Guests: Atty. Adel Tamano, Lizza Nakpil, & Quark Henares
July 8 | 9-12AM | JAM88.3FM

Spending time in Agusan del Sur (for work) last week for about five days, I made time to check out the local sights, food, products and anything that distinguishes said town from the other places in the country. For this particular trip however, I wasn’t on my usual traveler mode and didn’t prepare a schedule that allowed much sightseeing or food gorging. I was here for work i.e. interviews and footage for a documentary my organization is undertaking as part of our advocacy to address child labor in the Philippines. The days would be crammed with following our subjects as they go about their daily lives.

Happily it turned out that the workload was manageable. The members of the production team were veterans and knew exactly what they needed for the project. So that should have given me sufficient time and energy to explore right? Wrong.

I had with me the ultimate indoor-plaything: my 2-week-old netbook. Instead of exploring the real world outside the hotel, there I sat down in front of my monitor and basically spent all my free time on the Interwebs. It didn’t help that the place had super-fast Wifi.

It’s kinda sad because there were so many things I could’ve seen or experienced in Francisco and Butuan. Don’t believe me? Well here’s a list:

1.Attend a nearby town’s fiesta. Of course, by the time we found out about the festivities, it was too late.  We only learned that that there was a gathering at a town near us (14 kilometers or so) via the late afternoon local news.

 2.Visit Agusan Mars Wildlife Sanctuary. A protected area, Agusan Marsh is nearly 15 thousand hectares and is “vast complex of freshwater marshes and watercourses.” A great site for birdwatching, it counts among its prized inhabitants the threatened Philippine Hawk Eagle. I was warned though that one approaches Agusan Mash with utmost care and preparation. Its waters are home to some deadly parasites that cause death among humans by invading the liver.

 3.Take a short hike along Mt. Diwata. I just settled for taking a good long look at it whenever I can. This wasn’t hard to do, as the mountain looms large over the town of San Francisco.

 4.Visit the Balangay Shrine Museum in Butuan City. I am truly saddened I wasn’t able to do this. I would’ve loved to see the prehistoric boats called balanghai that date from the 4th and 13th AD.

It wasn’t a complete waste though. I did manage to indulge in some local activities—mainly eating and shopping. The minimum must-dos whenever I go to Mindanao.

1. Eat fresh durian fruit and its variants (e.g. shake, pie, durian cream). I also managed to bring home three kilos fresh durian.

2.Check out the ukay-ukay merchandise. Found a nice black leather bag for P250.00.

3.Eat seafood. In Butuan, we sampled this dish called Sinuglaw. It’s a combination of raw

4.Malasugi fish and grilled liempo ‘cooked” ala kinilaw with gata. Mmmm.

Next trip let’s hoping there’s no wifi in the hotel…

- Earnest Mangulabnan-Zabala