Art Of Body Bending Interview Transcript
Speaker 1 [00:00]:
Hello, and welcome to my ISSAY! artist feature! This is Karla Bautista, and I am here to
introduce... myself, as my artist name, Art of Bodybending.
Karla Bautista, AKA Art of Bodybending, is a multidisciplinary artist who aims to stretch the limits
of the body and mind through bold performances and social commentary. She embodies
flexibility by combining her various art forms simultaneously
in her performances, that showcase her multitude of personas. A self-taught avant-garde
storyteller singer-songwriter, and contortionist fine art model and pole dancer, she ran away
from home at age 15 to pursue the arts that her family refused to support her with. After her
adventures and misadventures surviving on her own as a teenager, she got her first
opportunities to learn and practice her art at age 20. For the next seven years, she has been
pushing the boundaries of her home country's conservative beliefs to provide avenues for
freedom and self-expression for all as a means of healing.
Her notable performances include the opening and closing of Fringe Manila 2019 Festival, a
performance art piece for M:ST Performance Art named “How Does it Feel, and her prolific
portfolio of self-produced music videos, created and released against all odds in the middle of
the pandemic.
She continues to inspire women, witches, and weirdos to get what they deserve and make their
stories known despite all the limits and setbacks they experience from patriarchal societies.
Karla lives in Manila and works as a preschool teacher and pole dance instructor. She
constantly looks for new spaces to take up her full authentic self and meet collaborators and
audiences to share her message with.
Welcome, Karla! I am so excited to start this interview. Thank you so much, ISSAY!, for setting
this up, because there are so many questions that I've always wanted to ask myself.
So, Karla, you say that you work as a preschool teacher and a pole instructor. Art still isn't your
full-time job even though you've spent your entire salary, working two jobs at a time to
self-produce all of this music and all of these music videos that aren’t generating an income of
their own. So, my first question that I really want to know is: Why aren't you still getting paid?
Speaker 2 [00:02:33.04]
How rude! Oh my goodness Karla, you are so rude to yourself. I've been through all of this work
and you're asking me why I didn't do better? I'm making radical art in a third-world country. It's
not acceptable for women here to be taking photos naked, and all contorted with their legs
spread. It's not okay for them to be so vocal and question the ideas of religion and patriarchy,
that basically runs this whole country. And to top it all off, this country's Industries and music,
and film are run by these patriarchal men, in a sea of toxicity, nepotism, sexual harassment and
other sketchy practices, Since the country is too focused on their basic needs to survive, from
starving, self-actualization is very far down the line in the tastes of the masses. Therefore, the
art being produced here is of the commercial mainstream kind. Unconventional art is practiced
and enjoyed here, but it's typically reserved for the rich who have all the time and money to
produce art like that in a country where it just won't get compensated.
But now, there are definitely artists who thrive, making a lot of money in the arts, because they
know how to do it commercially. They know how to do it the traditional way. And sadly, I just
didn't have any formal education, so my art is completely my own. It's a new form that I'm
introducing to the world, and new forms typically have to go through a long period of proving
and trusting before it happens. So, since I'm not trained in traditional music, traditional, dance,
it's just not happening yet along the money department, and I'm just hoping that I can support
myself and my art long enough to be able to take it to that level. Please, please, please, please,
please.
And don't be so hard on yourself, my goodness!
Speaker 1 [00:04:40.17]
Okay, okay. I get it, there’s systemic equalities that you just have no power over, but hear me
out. I'm asking you this, because I'm suffering! I'm suffering because of what you're doing. I just
want to know, how did you not plan for this? I mean there's other artists who do unconventional
art who are able to make a whole living from it. There must have been a way. So, what did you
not do for you to still be starving until now?
Speaker 2 [00:05:07.24]
Hold on, hold on, wait up. You don't plan in the middle of a pandemic. It was a crisis that nobody
was able to plan for, okay? We made do on what we could!
So there was the outer crisis of the pandemic happening and me not being able to do my tons of
odd jobs just to keep up my income. There was also the internal crisis: me always being in
survival mode, because my parents didn't support me when I was a child. They're not supporting
me until now. So I have to make my life happen, you know? I have to survive. Most companies
in the Philippines won't accept me because I have such a varied skill set and, like, a varied work
history, and they're just looking for somebody who constantly does the same thing over and over
again.
I was working as a full-time actor already before the pandemic started. I thought I had my life
made as a full-time artist. But then, our season had to close prematurely because people
couldn't leave their houses. And I was in a frenzy of looking for any job, any job at all that would
help me pay the bills continuously, you know? I ended up in jobs that were not a great fit for me.
These were corporate jobs that were totally not for an artist, but you need to do what you can to
survive.
So don't judge me like that. Okay, I do have my own mistakes in the planning of my career, I
guess I never took myself, seriously, you know, I always felt the need to prove myself to other
people who didn't see me as an artist or like, how can you be a musician? You're not even
trained. But I just had these songs in my head and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with them
if I had the chance to just put them out. But, you know, it's very difficult to have that sort of
self-assuredness when you don't have any tangible proof manifesting outside of yourself. And
since, you know, everyone is putting me down for not being a quote-unquote real artist, I did so
many jobs for free, I sang, and danced, and acted and hosted, and modeled and wrote for free.
Just so I could prove to people that, hey, this is what I do this. It's who I am. You know, since I
didn't feel very respected, the moment somebody would get me, I felt like that was my one and
only chance. And I you know, take any kind of pay, no matter how small it was. It was absolutely
inhumane pay. It was almost nothing, you know. Hardly just enough to like, cover transportation
costs. But I was just at that point, so shocked that somebody would actually recognize me as an
artist because no one did.
You know, it probably might not have been the most logical decision business-wise. You're right.
But art is just so... personal. It's not something you do, it's something you are. So, it's super tied
to my concept of myself and my self-worth. So, you know, because I was not treated with that
much respect, it really reflected in the way that I made my business dealings as an artist, and it
gave me a very personal advocacy just, you know, to get opportunities to express myself as an
artist because it was important to my core being and my personal life.
Speaking of business, I didn’t even know that by producing my art and hiring people to help me
with the technical aspects, I was already starting a business.
Cause, artists don’t start making art with the sole intention of making money. You make art from
your heart. And you know, I started out at such a low place where I didn’t have any arts training,
couldn’t get art jobs because I didn’t meet the conventional requirements, and I was seen as a
low-value woman because I was a nude model in a conservative country. I had absolutely no
funds for getting formal training or networking with artists, because I was working a minimum
wage job as a teacher.
People were making fun of my goals when I shared them, saying that I had no knowledge of the
industry, so I had no right to produce my work. I was also exposed to a lot of misogynists who
were insecure about the fact that I was calling the shots for my career and my life, and they felt
cheated because they were stuck following orders from men more powerful and privileged than
them. They didn’t recognize my authority as director and producer of my own production. They
wouldn’t listen to my orders on set, and they would gaslight me into feeling stupid when I asked
for revisions during the edits. My self-esteem was totally shot throughout the creation of my
music videos, so much so that I neglected the fact that by publishing a piece of music and
video, I was becoming the owner of a media product, and I should have taken the steps to
protect my intellectual property.
I should have had contracts. I should have outlined the deliverables and required them to turn
the raw footage to me, because it was my idea, budget, and production that they had in their
hands. But no. All that time I released 12 music videos, I was working with “friends” whom I paid
upfront because they asked for it, and just trusted them to support me and keep their word. I
was wrong.
I suffered huge financial and opportunity losses because the people I blindly relied on with no
strings attached, were not forthcoming at all about the deadlines, the quantity and the quality of
output they could deliver. I wasn’t able to market or promote any of my videos properly because
my editors would submit the first pass the day before the video was scheduled to be released. I
couldn’t even move the date because they refused to take revisions for the promotional media
with the release date even though they were at fault for the necessary changes. *sigh*
It was only when my work was put at risk by a collaborator who withheld the footage of my
music video because they failed to accomplish it after a year of delay in submission, and after I
actually allowed them to delay it for an entire year, they, you know, didn’t want to disclose to me
that they just never thought to finish it because they wanted to avoid ruining their reputation, you
know, they have an up-and-coming production company and I know a lot of people in their
scene. And they just kept making excuses for that entire year instead of just saying, “We can’t
do your video”, and they wouldn’t return the footage to me. So they had it in their hands, my
creation, and I was powerless to demand redress, much less get my footage back, because it
was an agreement among friends who claimed they could bring my art out into the world. I
couldn’t file a grievance against their production house in the Film Development Council of the
Philippines, because I didn’t have a business I could register with them to be a member who
can file industry complaints.
But, I got legal help from a friend and thankfully was able to get my footage back from the threat
of a lawsuit. But had I just been aware of the business of creating art, which it is! If you decide to
go public with it, it is a business. I would have known what I deserved, and what people I hire
are obligated to give me, instead of defining my worth on whether or not they choose to give me
the quality output I hired them for. This whole time, these mishaps got me thinking that maybe
they didn’t see me as respectable, and that’s why they didn’t work professionally. It was my
fault. But no. They were neglecting their tasks and committing misconduct to their client. That’s
what it was, and I failed to see it because of the huge lack of structure in the creative industry
and lack of education about the business side of art that should be as common knowledge as
other industries.
It was through the repeated exploitation of me by my collaborators who took advantage of me
that I realized my worth – ironically. You know, they all benefited so greatly from my
permissiveness and stupidity to give them good rates that I compromised my basic living
expenses for, while I was left financially and emotionally bankrupt. I was capable of carrying that
many freeloaders on my back. Why couldn’t I carry myself? I totally left myself behind and I
finally saw that I didn’t deserve that kind of treatment, and I should ask for the equivalent of all
that I put out.
You don’t need to be a famous star to get basic human decency just like you don’t have to be a
CEO to get basic worker’s rights. If you’re a working and producing artist, the same rules apply
for everyone. And I’ve finally used what I learned to register my business, have contracts for
every person I hire, and stay aware of the local artist groups who can provide support just in
case I need it. So there's your answer. You know? I'm sorry I gave you a hard life because of it.
But I learned from my mistakes.
Speaker 1 [00:14:36.27]
Okay, I forgive you. Well, let me tell you all about my situation that I had to go through while you
were doing this, you know, make-the-world-a-better-place mission. I was living on canned
goods!
Tell the world, exactly what you did to survive producing 12 music videos in the middle of the
pandemic, on a minimum wage salary that nearly ruined my life?
Speaker 2 [00:15:09.05]
Okay. How to produce 12 music videos during a pandemic with a minimum wage budget? There
was no other way than to take my own life and put it in jeopardy to produce this. It's like a huge
child, you know, and there's only enough nurturance in your body and in the world for one
person. It's either you or the baby. So between my music and me, I chose my music. I spent
three years living on canned goods. You know, I never went to a doctor’s appointment even
though I really needed it.
I didn't take opportunities to improve my career, or like, you know, further myself, develop
myself. I didn't even get a haircut! I didn't even have a social life, because I couldn't be spending
any money, you know, to grab a drink with a friend or go on a date. I needed to put every single
peso I had into making my music.
So that's how much I loved my child. I decided to forego my own well-being, and health, just so I
could produce that child, even if no one really wanted it. I was so happy to have it out in the
world.
Speaker 1 [00:16:23.27]
Okay. So now that I have been living on the very bare minimum, now that I have taken from my
own basic needs to create a fund for my music video production, How do you make an entire
production with such a small budget?
Speaker 2 [00:16:41.18]
Well, basic financial literacy! Stick to your budget, you know? I knew what the stakes were, and I
understood that if I wanted this to happen, I would have to find a way to make my vision happen
in the absolutely cheapest way possible.
So, what are the most expensive things in making a video production? Well, number one, you
have the venue. Number two, you have the crew. And number three, you have the
videographers and the editors.
So number one: the venue. You know, I had very complex concepts that require going back in
time, that required magical concepts and I was able to get everything I wanted by renting
themed motels that basically charged around $100 for 12 hours.
So I had to be really, really smart and creative. I had to find a way: How can I make this concept
of mine fit in with, you know, the landscape and the set of what that motel looked like?
Fortunately, a friend of mine was the owner of that chain of motels, and she would give me
discounts. She would sometimes even sponsor my venue, so special thanks to Victoria Court,
the chain of motels. Without them, I could never have made this happen.
So, the second part is the crew. Well, since I didn’t have enough money to pay, you know, an
entire company of crew members since I was only making as much as like, the minimum wage
person in a whole company... I just gave all the labor to myself! I was the producer. I was the
director. I was the assistant director. I was the talent. I was the makeup artist. I was the set
designer. I was the costume designer. I was the maintenance person. I was the logistics person.
I was carrying everything with my bare, hands, cleaning, things up, sweeping, taking out the
trash!
I did everything - almost everything, by myself, with the exception of my videographers, and my
editors, because I don't have that skill set. So, my videographers and my editors, some of them
are quite close friends of mine, so I really, you know, made a deal with them. Told them, what
can I offer you in return? So, I was bartering my time, I was bartering my services for free and,
you know, just giving us much of myself as I could even though it was so emotionally and
career-taxing, just so they would do this for me. And that combination of things somehow made
it work. I basically was comatose - my real self, for three whole years because I put my life on
hold to make this happen because this is me and I want to see it out in the world.
Speaker 1 [00:19:31.0]
Oh yeah. Well, thanks for doing that and abandoning me in the process! If I may ask, if it's
alright with you, Why did you need to do this... and do this to me?
Speaker 2 [00:19:50.11]
I didn't mean to hurt you! You know, I didn't really think it would have cost me any more suffering
than I was already experiencing every minute of my life. You know, I wasn't even living my life
anyway. The odds were all stacked up against me and I knew that there is next to no chance of
me entering the music and film industry to build my career. You know, I tried as best as I could,
and it really cost me more harm than good. Like, with all the harassment and abuse I
experienced.
And, you know, since I couldn’t find those opportunities in the existing industry, I had to create
them for myself. I had to produce and publish my own work and give myself a chance at a time
where no one else would. I find that in a world that has excluded me everywhere, that has
pushed me to the most insignificant of roles or even pretended that I didn't exist, I had a mission
to myself to be in this world and share my story and take up space.
It's so painful, not being able to connect with people because they don't understand you. When
you have so much inside of you to share and you just know that it is part of them. That it is
connected universally to the world. And the only way I could do that was to create my own
artwork.
So, in a way, you know, even if people couldn't understand, there was a chance that they might
and at least it was out there. So it could reach someone somewhere who could understand it.
I am a lot to handle. It's not like you can understand the fullness of me and one conversation. So
I really needed to reveal myself and tell my story in an abstract symbolic form. That's the only
way I could have done myself. the least amount of justice. It's not as much as I hoped it would,
but it was the best I could do.
Speaker 1 [00:21:49.21]
Okay, there you go. With your heroic bleeding heart. I love the art speech that I exist to preserve
a culture. I exist to tell a story to the world. Thank you so much for your services to society at my
own expense as an individual human being, who also wanted just to have a normal life. But I
understand where you're coming from and I accepted the role that I've had to play in your
self-sacrificing, not that this is going to go on forever. You know what, I really want to know more
about your purpose. Please tell everyone about it so I can make peace with all the suffering I've
had to go through for you to achieve this.
Speaker 2 [00:22:38.20]
I do what I do so I can record the history of human experience as it happens in my own life. You
know, because media and culture they’re so selective, they’re so censored. And I want to
preserve the truth that's universal to all of us in the form of my abstract art with a hidden
message.
And I know that what I'm doing is right, even if everyone tells me that it's wrong, because art is
about creating something new. And your uniqueness will be lost in following the paths of others.
I just want people to look beyond the conventions and perceptions of what the human body is,
and what it's capable of.
Society tends to sexualize women and their bodies whether they wear clothing or not, and they
frame this sexual expression as negative. Or when women are outspoken like me, unafraid to
challenge the structures in place - they silence us by shaming us because of that sexuality. So,
I want to strip off all of that pretense in my art about women and sex and how sex is bad.
I want to experiment with my body to create new shapes and new narratives, which are
probably not new, but rather forgotten. And I hope that the people who see what I created with
my body, and what I say with my voice can remember, just how much power they have over
their own body and voice. That is my dream. I want to bend the rigid structures of society. So
people like me can not only survive, but thrive and share our value for others to find in
themselves.
Speaker 1 [00:24:11.18]
Well there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. That was Art of Bodybending.
Well, that certainly gives me comfort knowing the huge ideals of your purpose. It makes me
understand that my suffering actually had meaning.
I have exposed her mutilation of her own self, just to create what she has created in line with
her purpose. But don't worry guys, she has promised to be kinder to me. I have forced her to
take care of herself first!
We’ll be on a little break, a little hiatus to take care of myself until I am fully recovered. And we
will return better than ever with some surprises in store. I can't wait to show you what I've been
working on. See you then.