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Tales of the Manuvu

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<div><img src="https://od2-image-api.abs-cbn.com/prod/editorImage/1774586930429Diwatas in Alice Reyes&#x27; Tales of the Manuvu (Feb 27, 2026, 7PM) (Photo by Erica Jacinto).jpg" style="width:960px" class="fr-fic fr-dib" width="960"/>Diwatas in Alice Reyes&#x27; &#x27;Tales of the Manuvu.&#x27; (Photo by Erica Jacinto)</div>Amidst pre-show chatter about cultural representation, &quot;Tales of the Manuvu&quot; by Alice Reyes Dance Philippines was performed at the UP Theatre on February 27 and 28, with a second run at the University of the East on March 17. Originally staged in 1977, it was billed as the Philippines&#x27; first rock opera ballet. Choreographed by National Artist Alice Reyes, with a libretto by National Artist  Bienvenido Lumbera and music by Dero Pedero, the production draws on an article by cultural anthropologist E. Arsenio Manuel published in Philippine Heritage.This restaging retells a creation story — an origin myth explaining how Mindanao came to be. It was fitting that on opening night, University of the Philippines president Angelo Jimenez introduced the show. He shared, with pride, that he is the first Mindanaoan to serve as UP president and that his roots trace back to the Manuvu. His speech was cordial, meaningful, and delivered with confidence. Yet for me, it created a sense of tension. It felt as though there was a need to validate the work even before the curtains rose.To situate this ballet in its proper context, it served a vital purpose when it premiered in the 1970s. During this time, Reyes was a trailblazer, practically mothering the idea of presenting Filipino narratives through a hybrid of ballet, contemporary, and jazz. Works like &quot;Tales of the Manuvu&quot; encouraged cross-disciplinary collaboration, captured the cultural pulse of the era, and, more importantly, drew new audiences to dance. With its compelling music and then-shocking movement vocabulary, it created a strong pull toward Filipino-themed storytelling in a relatable format. One could even argue that it paved the way for future works.However, after watching two performances with varying levels of quality, I find myself reconciling a more difficult truth: what may have once felt potent and progressive now feels out of step, and in need of recalibration.Any folktale, from any part of the world, can be chosen as a theme — to entertain, to educate, to heal, to provoke. Any creative entity can choose to be shallow or layered, vulgar or conservative. It can decide to be a purist medium or a hybrid; creative democracy is one of the pillars of artistic success. With limitless options, the morality of creative decisions is difficult to establish because true intentions are known only to the maker. But perhaps the truest measure of art lies in how it is received — both by its audience and by the people being represented. I am not from Mindanao nor well-versed in their sacred traditions, and so I speak in the voice of a spectator who yearns to feel inspired by Filipino stories.Choreographically, the production is colorful and eclectic, filled with visually impressive combinations — satisfying leaps, expansive lifts, and a clear display of the dancers’ dynamism and skill. All of which surely made the dancers enthusiastic and the audience thrilled. Soloists were given generous highlights: Manama’s hinges, Ogassi’s dynamic jumps, and the striking exchanges between the First Man and Woman were undeniably engaging. The stage was rich in talent and spectacle. From novelty to execution, the performance delivered. And yet, it did not sit well with me.At its core, it is a Filipino story told almost entirely through a Western movement vocabulary, with minimal traces of organically Filipino gesture or sensibility. This is not a critique of jazz as a form, but rather of the dissonance between movement language and the sacredness of the narrative. Perhaps I missed subtleties and direct influences, but beyond the use of the Manuvu tale itself, I find it hard to reconcile jazz combinations reminiscent of the &quot;Saturday Night Fever&quot; era — gyrating bodies, pulsating hustle movements, Kama Sutra imagery, and even the occasional booty clap — with the depth of Mindanaoan tradition. The disconnect is striking, and at times, uncomfortable. There are also moments where sexuality feels trivialized — an artistic choice that becomes especially delicate when framed within an indigenous narrative.In the UP performance, the ballet ends with the declarative line “SILA ang mga MANUVU ng Mindanao,” delivered with conviction, and the line is flashed on the screen.  And when you deliver a line like that, you articulate that this is how you represent a community. It has a lot of weight. I recognize the importance of creating work that immortalizes Filipino stories, but I feel this is a missed opportunity to celebrate the depth of Manuvu culture, reducing it to a booty-slapping community.The storytelling also had its issues. Because of the chosen dance genre and the disco era&#x27;s prevalence, the ballet gave off a commercial feel. And as a spectator, it kind of compromises the depiction of Philippine mythology, the gods, and the diwatas. There&#x27;s an unspoken rule in adapting folklore: ensure the essence of the character is never diminished. Good is good and bad is bad.  Manuvu&#x27;s creation story involved a supreme god, Manama, and Ogassi, the bad god. Although the narrative framework appears consistent, the characterization falters. Manama’s portrayal leans heavily on human flaws — sloth, selfishness, indifference —wi thout sufficiently conveying his wisdom or benevolence. As a result, Ogassi’s cunning presence dominates. By the end of the ballet, I was already Team Ogassi. Manama (in characterization and staging) seemed so indifferent and out of touch.  The imbalance weakened the story&#x27;s moral and spiritual clarity.<div><img src="https://od2-image-api.abs-cbn.com/prod/editorImage/1774587186331Ejay Arisola as Ogassi with Busaw in Alice Reyes&#x27; Tales of the Manuvu (Feb 27, 2026, 7PM) (Photo by Erica Jacinto).jpg" style="width:960px" class="fr-fic fr-dib" width="960"/>Ejay Arisola as Ogassi with Busaw in Alice Reyes&#x27; &#x27;Tales of the Manuvu.&#x27; (Photo by Erica Jacinto)</div>Having seen both casts, I must acknowledge that Erl Sorilla and Ejay Arisola, both as Ogassi, were the undeniable standouts. They commanded the stage with consistency and magnetic presence, anchoring the audience’s attention. The male ensemble was likewise commendable — their rawness and bold expressiveness were persuasive. The women, however, had uneven moments. In particular, the UP opening’s group fouettés — a challenging feat had me clenching my seat. Sadly, the technique was not there for some. The UE performance showed a visible overall improvement, possibly aided by subtle choreographic adjustments.The production design also evolved. The UP staging felt visually congested, with both choreography and set competing for attention. Visual differentiation was also limited. Both gods looked like they lived in the same land, when in fact the synopsis clearly states that Manama’s land was barren and Ogassi’s was lush. The UE performance benefited from a more restrained, minimalist set; at least, it allowed the choreography — and the dancers — to breathe. Ultimately, &quot;Tales of the Manuvu&quot; is not lacking in talent, passion, or intention. From singing to dancing, choreography to music, it is undeniably a celebration of Filipino artistry in terms of skill. It was, after all, the brainchild of national artists and performed by a talented fleet of dancers. But perhaps — and this may be an unpopular opinion — it is also a work that risks doing more harm than good in today’s context. It may be enjoyed by many, but is it really worth the risk? The fact that there are forums discussing it suggests that a bit of discontent accompanies the applause. Perhaps there really is a reason for my unease. There are pieces that stand as milestones: to be remembered, studied, and honored for their place in history — but not necessarily repeated in the same form. Encouraging art aficionados to form their own opinion and join the dialogue.  <div>Alice Reyes Dance Philippines still has shows in the Proscenium Theatre in Rockwell on March 28 and 29.</div>

A landmark in Philippine dance returns. But as ‘Tales of the Manuvu’ takes the stage once more, questions of representation, movement language, and cultural responsibility come into sharper focus.

A landmark in Philippine dance returns. But as ‘Tales of the Manuvu’ takes the stage once more, questions of representation, movement language, and cultural responsibility come into sharper focus.

Dance review: Why revival of ‘Tales of the Manuvu’ is sparking debate

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Dance review: Why revival of ‘Tales of the Manuvu’ is sparking debate

ABS-CBN Lifestyle,

Erica Marquez-Jacinto

Published March 27, 2026 12:59 PM PHT

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dance review

Alice Reyes Dance Philippines

Tale of the Manuvu

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