Show business isn’t only about Kathryn Bernardo and Dingdong Dantes, or about Nora Aunor and Vilma Santos. Nor is it only about ABS-CBN, GMA7, TV5, Viva Entertainment, UNTV, Star Cinema, Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP), The Company, Gary Valenciano, Sarah Geronimo, etc.
Show business is also about tenors Nazer Salcedo and Terence Gil Guillermo, coloratura soprano Sweet Samaniego-Buchanan and soprano Margarita Roco, and baritone Onyl Torres. They are collectively called Tribu, a group known to sing mostly classical Filipino music—folk songs, kundiman, balitaw, danza, zarzuela and other traditional melodies—but is likewise into pop or signature OPM (Original Pilipino Music).
Additionally, they sing Broadway classics, Disney soundtracks, Hollywood theme songs, and other anthems of foreign movies. They have dished these out in their previous gigs and will do so again in their concert “Timeless Tribu,” which will be held at Greenhills Promenade’s Teatrino on Oct. 26 starting at 8 p.m.
“We also want to cater to the current generation, to the young people,” said Sweet, the group’s musical director.
‘Cultural phenomenon’
What a difference, then, does Tribu make from Lola Amour, Tito, Vic & Joey, Cueshe, Parokya ni Edgar, Mabuhay Singers, or even the Apo (formerly the Apo Hiking Society)?
They may be generational, but they seem the same banana beside the others in the popular entertainment circuit. Except that Tribu is described in the press briefs from Ephesus Teatron Group Inc. (apparently its management agency or production house) as a “cultural phenomenon”—seemingly in the mold or tradition of Armida Siguion-Reyna’s “Aawitan Kita,” if not high art, as many pundits may label their music.
Whoever thought of “cultural phenomenon” is sufficiently bright because the phrase seems safe—neutral, inoffensive, not threatening to other existing artists, humble yet provocative, a reminder of “The Phenomenal Nora Aunor” tag in the ’60s and ’70s—to play around with without the stakeholder losing one’s commercial identity in the industry.
The phrase is a marketing tool to introduce and preserve an image, but is not limited to the business of music. The music industry has a diversified market for artists to sell their products—i.e., concerts, musical scoring, publishing, recording (the latter in current platforms such as Spotify or iTunes and any other stores, digital or otherwise).
Tribung Pinoy
Tribu chooses its market but still wants, and strategizes to conquer, additional following. That was also the case of its predecessor, Tribung Pinoy, a cultural group conceptualized, organized, supported, sustained and more by the late banker, art patron, and former CCP board trustee Danny Dolor.
Tribu and Tribung Pinoy might have the same formula of versatility, or variety of selection. Entertainment journalist Ronald K. Constantino, who was very close to Danny Dolor, quipped that even during their reign starting in the ’70s onward, Tribung Pinoy also performed English songs, classical or pop, aside from Filipino music, old and new.
The original members of Tribung Pinoy were, among others, coloratura soprano Gloria Dizon Coronel, lyric soprano Lourdes Francisco, tenor Renato Almira, basso profundo Constancio Cadelina, and mezzo soprano Erlinda Ascuna.
Sweet, a student of Coronel’s at University of Santo Tomas’ Conservatory of Music, is no stranger to the Dolor-led cultural icons, having performed in one or more of their shows.
In 2011 the CCP invited Tribung Pinoy to mount a show billed “Harana sa Dapithapon,” but it was difficult to gather the pioneers because some of them had retired or passed on. With Dolor’s blessings, Sweet initiated the organization of a new voice ensemble, Tribu, now with its current members. She has continued the legacy of Tribung Pinoy in the new group even after Dolor’s death in 2018.
Without Dolor who could lavishly support Tribu, it is now incumbent on Ephesus Teatron Group to keep it afloat.
Limited audience
At the height of Tribung Pinoy’s popularity, their audience was loyal and nurturing—but limited in commercial terms. They could not sweep a broader spectrum of music aficionados (read: buyers), and Sweet factors this into her current efforts to reach a wider range of listeners and viewers.
The “high art” tag on classic or opera singers is a considerable burden. They are, more often than not, ignored by the local music industry which prefers young, even kitschy, crooners.
A lament aired by some Tribu members is that bookers, producers, and talent coordinators would choose or cast the more popular performers: “Mas kinukuha ang mas sikat kaysa amin,” Sweet said at the press launch of “Timeless Tribu.”
For the benefit of the uninformed, Tribu members are music educators experienced as teachers to the younger set of pop singers, whether high-profile or struggling, who may in fact bow to them in respect, recognition, or resignation.
Still, it’s not too late for Tribu to adjust their tack in achieving their goals. There are many options and experiments, like consultation with the public.
At the press launch, Sweet asked the members of the media what type of music, genre, or content Tribu could possibly interpret as a crowd-drawer.
I, for one, suggested that they breathe new life into pop icon Sylvia La Torre’s ditties, like “Kalesa” or “Luneta,” which were hits in her heyday.
As well, Sweet can include modern songs in their repertoire, to level up with the audience’s expectations. From operatic arias to simple, mass-appeal music, Tribu can adjust to please the market.
Is anyone suggesting rap? Well, why not, if they can swing it!
Read more: All that Jazz: The music lives here
Leave a Reply