BASIL VALDEZ as mentor. PHOTOS BY AUGUST DELA CRUZ
The air was electric with excitement recently at Ryan and Emmy Cayabyab’s music school at Robinsons Galleria, as some 80 music buffs and certified Basil Valdez acolytes gathered to participate in a rare event—the senior song stylist’s first (and only?) master class in pop music performance.
When we first heard that Basil had agreed to share what he had learned from decades of stellar singing all over the world, we hastily rearranged our schedule to enable us to savor the rare treat for ourselves. So did scores of prospective singers and scholars, all of them eager to learn from the master who has stayed on top of his musical game, even as many of his contemporaries and some younger talents have faded into oblivion.
The minute Basil started speaking, however, we sensed that the teaching—and the learning—weren’t going to be all that easy for everyone concerned, because the teacher was clearly very different from his students.
Although he had paid his dues as a puwesto singer, either solo or in a group, for years, he was a breed apart from other pop performers, because of his unique persona and lifelong interest in (of all things) philosophy.
RYAN CAYABYAB The class was held in his music school.
That involuted philosophical bent, plus his exceptional singing voice, have made him the perfect instrument and medium for the interpretation of an unusual kind of love songs. It’s not the pained and tormented kind of anthems of the wounded and profusely bleeding heart, but elevated and enlightened music and lyrics that artistically and insightfully fuse into a memorably moving, veritable apotheosis of Love.
Basil’s unique bent as person and performer has made him acutely sensitive to what song lyrics seek to express and convey—not just in the apparent sense, but in their indirectness, intimations and nuances.
Stickler for clarity
That sensitivity has made him a stickler for clarity of thought, understanding, speech, articulation and expression—values scorned by or unknown to many singers today.
Vivified by his unusually expressive voice, those values enable his renditions of love songs to rise to an ethereal and timeless level, which is why they’ve been embraced by generations of lovers for decades on end.
That’s exactly the kind of consistent fealty that all singers would love to engender in their fans. But it’s a difficult lesson to learn, despite Basil’s eagerness to share it, because very few performers are as sensitive and disciplined as he is.
Who else in the biz can be described as a pop philosopher? As an artist who takes a song written by somebody else and shapes it into something new, so that it “speaks” clearly to many others, not just heart-to-heart, but also mind-to-mind?
So, for a young singer to really learn performance and success lessons from Basil, he or she has to work hard to attain his level of artistry, sensitivity and devotion to his chosen profession and mode of expression.
As he sang his signature songs to illustrate the teaching points he wanted to convey, it became increasingly clear how much thought and effort he had put into every tune to make it memorable. How many other performers are capable of such devotion and dedication?
The point was further underscored when some of the young talents in the audience were invited to sing their own songs, for Basil and Ryan to comment on. Many of them had fine voices, and their technique was similarly exceptional—but their performance generally remained at the literal and technical level, while Basil’s soared.
YOUNG TALENTS eager to learn from the master.
It isn’t just a matter of relative age and experience. Basil was deemed outstanding even in his youth, because he instinctively gravitated toward exceptionally meaningful and psychologically expressive songs like “Alfie.”
When he started recording Filipino pop compositions, he was similarly drawn to a song like “Ngayon at Kailanman,” the lyrics of which speak of love—not in the throes of torment, but transformed, transmuted, dependable, eternal.
It’s no wonder then, that the song has become the signature anthem of his long-running career. His other hits, like “Ngayon” and “Salamin ng Buhay,” are similarly introspective, involuted, and thus touch listeners where they live and love.
To succeed like Basil, his acolytes will have to find their own performing philosophy, their own view of the world, their own way to sing and share. There are no gaya-gaya shortcuts to greatness, that’s for sure.
Take it from Teacher Basil: That’s what it’s all about.