The Ilonggo art group Kikik Kollektive has notched a milestone at the 11th Asia Pacific Triennial of Contemporary Art of the Queensland Art Gallery/Gallery of Modern Art (QAGOMA) with a mural that shines a light on Panayanon history and culture.

Measuring 7.5 meters by 25 meters, the mural titled “Bones of Our Elders” (or “Tul-an sang Amun Kamal-aman” in Hiligaynon) depicts “a sinuous serpent deity associated with the moon alongside imagery of local figures, community traditions, ancient cultivation practices, and spiritual beliefs.”

Four members of the Kikik Kollektive—Marge Chavez, Noel Epalan Jr., Kristine Buenavista, and Marrz Capanang—transformed the blank wall at the Level 3 gallery of QAGOMA in Brisbane, Australia, into a mural with a metanarrative on the impacts of capitalism and globalization on land, culture, and community life, mirroring their home country’s political and economic distress under Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and reflected in their province’s rising inflation at 4.4%, two notches higher than the national average of 2.5% despite postpandemic recovery. 

In underscoring landlessness, the mural asserts: “What is truly lost—in a highly globalized world lured to believe that the parameters for national wealth are mass production, extremely advanced technology, extracted terrains, corporate capitalism, and towering buildings—is the freedom to connect with the land.”

The artists painted the mural intending to connect people to their lands: “Through this connection, we reclaim the power of our many-voiced local earth—its myths woven through the curiosities and imaginaries of our ancestors, its abundance and healing in the presence of food, ethnopharmacology, and regenerative seeds.” 

The mural invokes the knowledge and values of the past while serving as instigator in the dialogue for decolonization. For the group, “decolonizing ourselves must move forward in the direction of our land’s diversity and generosity, so we can revere the places that hold us.” 

Community lens

Kikik Kollektive has been known for making large-scale murals since its formation in 2017 as “Artivism Iloilo.” Its transformation into Kikik Kollektive is underpinned by the mission to connect with the locals, artists, and grassroots organizations of the region to draw attention to social and environmental issues through a community lens.

“Kíkik” is Hiligaynon for “cicada,” which is also called “serum-serum” or cricket. It was adopted as the name of the art collective, drawing meaning from the insect’s loud chatter to symbolize the artists’ stimulating dialogue and exchange in the community. It signifies their unassailable connection with their home province of Iloilo on the island of Panay in the Philippines. 

Kikik Kollektive’s murals are rich in historic-cultural and sociopolitical themes. Its artistic style entices audiences from all walks of life to engage with the narratives it conveys, using public art as an information and education channel to empower citizens.

Teresa Magbanua

“Bones of Our Elders” is relevant public art with its powerful imagery and messaging, echoing the cries from the remotest of communities in the Asia-Pacific to the world through the portrayal of the much-admired heroine Teresa Magbanua of Pototan, Iloilo, woven through the enduring symbols of the Bakunawa, a Visayan serpent deity, and completing the rendition with the Filipino value of community collectivism called “bayanihan.”

The mural stands as a poignant tribute to Magbanua, the military leader, teacher, and farmer who epitomizes the spirit of resistance against colonial forces. Her legacy as a veteran of the Philippine Revolution against Spain (1896-1898), the Philippine-American War (1899-1902), and the Japanese Occupation (1942-1945) resonates as a powerful symbol of resilience and dedication to both her country and its people.

In “Bones of our Elders,” Magbanua is envisioned as a monumental female figure, an emblem of steadfastness whose efforts to protect the farmers (the custodians of the land’s bounty) and the Aeta (the island’s indigenous people) are magnified. She is not merely a historical figure but a living embodiment of the enduring connections among people, place, and the cultivation of both land and spirit.

Dominating the composition is the Bakunawa, the mythical serpent deity of the Visayan pantheon. A primordial force whose undulating motions dictate the cycles of time in the ancient Panayanon calendar, the Bakunawa is more than a celestial figure: It is an ancestral presence. 

Revered in Philippine folklore, serpents like the Bakunawa are linked to both agricultural rituals and spiritual practices, embodying the spirits of ancestors (anito) across the Visayan region, including Iloilo. Through this depiction, the coiled form of the Bakunawa becomes a symbolic conduit that ties together the people, the land, and the spirit world in a timeless dance.

At the heart of this narrative is the spiritual landscape of the Philippines, grounded in indigenous belief systems. Here, the Babaylan (an empowered shaman who bridges the physical and spiritual realms) performs sacred healing rituals, often in proximity to the Lunok tree (also known as the Balete or weeping fig, and believed to be a sanctuary for the supernatural). This tree, a sentinel of the unseen, serves as a gateway between the human and spiritual worlds, its roots deeply entwined with the practices of ancestral worship and healing.

Collective strength

“Bones of our Elders” also celebrates the collective strength of bayanihan, the Filipino tradition of communal unity. In one of its vignettes, a community comes together to move a house—an act both literal and symbolic, reflective of a time when village dwellings, constructed from locally sourced materials like bamboo and nipa palm, were easily moved from one place to another or reassembled through collective effort. This shared labor transcends mere cooperation, becoming a representation of the enduring values of solidarity, interdependence, and the spirit of mutual aid that bind a community together.

In its entirety, the mural weaves together threads of history, myth, and spirituality to honor a heroine whose legacy is as vast and enduring as the land she protected. It is a testament not only to Teresa Magbanua but also to the timeless bond between the Filipino people and their ancestral roots, both physical and spiritual.

70 artists from 30 countries 

In the Triennial, Kikik Kollektive represents the Philippines and is among the 70 artists, collectives and projects from more than 30 countries that include Dana Awartani (Saudi Arabia/Palestine), Brett Graham (Aotearoa New Zealand), D Harding (Australia), Mit Jai Inn (Thailand), Saodat Ismailova (Uzbekistan), Dawn Ng (Singapore), Yeung Tong Lung (Hong Kong) and Haus Yuriyal (Papua New Guinea).

The QACOMA says the Triennial is a gateway to the rapidly evolving artistic expression of Australia, Asia and the Pacific, and brings a compelling new art to Brisbane. Alongside artists and makers whose works have not been previously seen in Australia are new co-curated projects investigating artforms and cultural contexts rarely encountered outside their home localities.

“Bones of Our Elders” was completed with the support of local artists, Steven Falco, Amihan Aquilizan, and Imogen Corbett, and under the supervision of the curatorial team, Abby Bernal and Tarun Nagesh, curatorial manager of Asian and Pacific art. 

The exhibition statement in English was written by Jocelyn Flynn and translated to Hiligaynon by Kristine Buenavista with the assistance of Gil Montinola.

The project was supported by the Australian Government through its Office for the Arts, part of the Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development, Communications and the Arts.

The Triennial was opened to the public for free on Nov. 30, 2024, and will be on display until April 27.

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