A New Vision for Philippine Contemporary Art: Carlos Quijon Jr. Takes the Helm at CCP
When I first heard about Carlos Quijon Jr.’s appointment as chief curator of the Cultural Center of the Philippines’ (CCP) Contemporary Art Museum, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. Personally, I think this is a pivotal moment for Philippine art—one that signals a shift toward a more globally engaged and intellectually rigorous approach to curatorship. Quijon’s background, spanning Manila and New York, coupled with his tenure as the inaugural C-MAP research fellow at MoMA, makes him a uniquely qualified figure to bridge local narratives with international dialogues.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Quijon’s appointment aligns with the CCP’s ongoing renovation, slated to conclude next year. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just about refreshing a physical space; it’s about reimagining the institution’s role in the 21st century. Quijon’s vision to strengthen the CCP’s place in national and regional conversations around contemporary art feels both ambitious and necessary. In my opinion, the CCP has often been seen as a bastion of traditional Filipino artistry, but Quijon’s leadership could push it to become a more dynamic platform for experimental and cross-cultural work.
One thing that immediately stands out is Quijon’s track record. His curation of the Philippine Pavilion at the 2024 Venice Biennale, for instance, wasn’t just a showcase of Filipino talent—it was a statement about the country’s place in the global art ecosystem. What many people don’t realize is that curating a national pavilion at the Biennale is as much about diplomacy as it is about art. Quijon’s ability to navigate these complexities suggests he’s not just a curator but a cultural strategist.
A detail that I find especially interesting is his exhibition Echoes and Mirages, which explored artistic practices across the Atlantic and Pacific. This raises a deeper question: How can the CCP, under Quijon’s leadership, become a hub for such transnational dialogues? From my perspective, the Philippines is uniquely positioned as a cultural crossroads, and Quijon’s experience in Southeast Asia, East Asia, and the West could help the CCP tap into this potential.
However, this appointment also comes with challenges. The CCP has historically been a site of both celebration and contention, particularly during periods of political upheaval. What this really suggests is that Quijon’s role won’t just be about curating art—it’ll be about navigating the institution’s complex relationship with Filipino identity, history, and power. Personally, I’m curious to see how he’ll balance these tensions while staying true to his vision.
Looking ahead, I think Quijon’s leadership could mark the beginning of a new era for Philippine contemporary art. If the CCP can successfully reposition itself as a regional and global player, it could inspire other institutions across Southeast Asia to rethink their own roles. What makes this particularly exciting is the potential for collaboration—not just between artists, but between institutions, scholars, and audiences.
In the end, Quijon’s appointment isn’t just about filling a position; it’s about reimagining what’s possible. As someone who’s watched the Philippine art scene evolve over the years, I’m cautiously optimistic. The CCP has always been a symbol of cultural resilience, and with Quijon at the helm, it might just become a beacon of innovation. The question now is: Are we ready for the transformation?
