“Through the centuries, the Filipino had been putting on a mask in order to confound his conquerors. When the time came to take off the mask because it was no longer needed, he found that it had become part of his face. This was the commanding image of our crisis of identity. But we have peeled off the masks, confronted ourselves, revealed and asserted our Filipino identity. No people can endure without the vital knowledge of who they are”

“...I discern a subtle and creeping return to old habits. I see a slackening in the vigilant attitude of some of our people. There seems to be a lowering of energy and enthusiasm in some citizens and workers. There is a thirst for special privilege, attention, and favors. I see the intervention of more and more of those whom we had branded as influence peddlers. And there is a tendency towards overconfidence and complacency.”

“You and I will never fail so long as we recognize that our one and only guide is the welfare of the people, and that we subordinate ourselves to this interest.”

“...A man especially, a leader, has many dreams, many illusions. He dreams not for himself alone but most especially for his people. That’s why he is a leader; he assumes the burdens of many people. He thinks from them, works for them, and, if possible, he takes all the blows, all the pains, all the wounds, all the injuries that would otherwise go to the people. He takes them quietly and calmly without too much dramatics. And a leader, if he is truly a leader, acquires a passion for anonymity.”

“The plans, the order for reforms and removal of the inequities of our society, the clean-up of government of its corrupt and sterile elements...the systematic development of our economy, the general program for a new and better Philippines...must start out with the elimination of anarchy and the maintenance of peace and order.”

“...We will do everything within our powers so long as I am President of the Republic of the Philippines. Today, I pledge to you that we shall continue this revolution that we have initiated. We shall continue until we succeed; and we shall brook no interference or obstacle. But we will need your support. We will work with you.”

“...In enforcing martial law, our most difficult task did not lie in immobilizing the enemies of the state, although that in itself constituted a formidable task. Rather, it lay in giving a social dimension to all our efforts, so that the energies otherwise spent to spread anarchy and chaos could be transformed into a peaceful and productive force for the making of meaningful reforms.”

"We are trying to pull our country out of the Dark Ages, of the dark continent into which we have been destined by the elders before us, by some of the Filipinos who forgot that they, too, are Filipinos. And while they are the elite of our society, they are not privileged to colonize or to patronize other Filipinos."

“An ideology for the New Society must anchor itself on one ruling principle: that the interests, objectives and needs of the poorest of the working people take precedence over those of the rest.”

"Your nation expects to hear from you in its moments of controversy; let yours be the same voice amidst the dialogue that we seem to be losing. It matters little whether you endorse administration policy or criticize it, so long as endorsement of criticism is informed by sophistication and honest judgement. For in a democracy, what weighs more is not so much your opinions but how you arrive at them. Dogmatism is the danger, not honest dissent."

This series began as a collection of political posters and scenes that Sumulong found in the Philippines. Taking an iconoclastic approach and engaging in the practice of damnatio memoriae, he presents images of deterioration as a means of revealing an entrenched feeling of distrust towards a historically corrupt political system. The title aptly takes its name from the Tagalog word for a torn cleaning rag or a crooked politician.


Pursuant to this, Sumulong shot the images digitally, processed and printed them with expired Polaroid 600 and SX-70 film, and lifted the emulsions onto recycled, unbleached paper stock made in the Philippines.

The quotations provided are excerpts from Towards the New Society written by Ferdinand Marcos and TAO: Humanism at work in Filipino Society by Imelda Marcos, which are two foundational pieces of propaganda published by the Marcos regime. The rhetoric in these works sounds progressive and perhaps resonant of contemporary Filipino political platforms, but has been considered as a reminder of the hypocrisy of that time.


Lawrence Sumulong (b. 1987, United States) is a Filipino-American photographer and photo editor presently based in New York City. Interestingly, photography came to him without the introduction of a formal education: Sumulong instead studied contemporary American poetry in Grinnell College, under the tutelage of scholar and writer Ralph Savarese. He traveled to the Philippines on his own in 2007 in order to take pictures with it. This homecoming eventually became an exploration of his family’s roots, as an experiential piecing together of the land and country from where his immigrant parents had come from.


In this way, Sumulong’s beginnings have foreshadowed the work he will come to produce. Often returning to poetry as accompanying notes to his projects, he thinks of his photography as “personal documentary stories.” And because the stories that he seeks to tell are situated in his supposed home locality that is brimming with a language that he does not speak, the reality that gets processed by Sumulong is split by the simultaneous positioning of Filipino and foreigner. It is in this sense that he writes of being “caught between a moment of recognition/empathy and abjection/alienation,” and interested in creating work that is “layered, polyphonic and many-voiced.” Coming from this peculiar standpoint, Sumulong tackles subjects such as the Manila terrain—which he considers as his “surrogate home,” having “existed in retrograde to [his] life in America—its people, and the Filipino diaspora.


Armed with a keen sense of place and the political, Sumulong takes pictures with a decisive, yet observant eye. One cannot gaze at his photos and the stories they carry with ease. It comes plainly that social reality is almost always depicted and experienced with discomfort, and that in order for significant art to arise, veracity need not be shed. This forthcoming nature does not come as a surprise: in 1980, his parents had become immigrants in New Jersey in a move to flee the Marcos regime, which had been blacklisting dissidents.


Collaborating at times with advisers and other artists, Sumulong develops relationships with and within the medium. This deep involvement with various photographic processes and techniques is all part of Sumulong’s pursuit of what best represents the stories being told in his projects.

His methods range from working with a fisheye lens in order to bring out the claustrophobia of “routinely traveling through heat, smog, and the crush on the street for hours,” shooting images digitally, printing them with expired Polaroid 600 and SX-70 film, and lifting the emulsions onto recycled, unbleached paper stock, resulting in a visually distorted representation of the Philippine political system, to even more elaborate processes, such as creating ambrotypes—photographs on glass—using a 19th-century wet-plate collodion process, and printing photographs as edible frosting layers intended for cakes and later transferring them onto watercolor paper by hand.





Artist's website, www.lawrencesumulong.com


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Bubola, Emma. “The netherworld of the Philippines’ war on drugs.” Fisheye Magazine. 2017.


Fiell, Clem. “Sugar Coated? | The Photographer Using Frosting to Show Hawaii’s Dark Side.” Amuse. 18 July 2018.


Hiller, Geoffrey. “Lawrence Sumulong.” Verve Photo. 8 September 2014.


Mola, Anna. “Lawrence Sumulong | In Answer.” Private Photo Review. 8 June 2012.


Sedacca, Matthew. “A Son of Immigrants Contemplates What His Life Might Have been.” The New York Times. 28 January 2019.


Sumulong, Lawrence. “Bottleneck.” Invisible Photographer Asia. 25 April 2016.


Sumulong, Lawrence. “Dead To Rights.” The Story Institute. Undated.


“Artist Q&A: Lawrence Sumulong.” Nipa Mag. 15 October 2015.