IN this, the fifth painting for his Pop Symbolist Positively Ugly series, titled At a Pizza to the Polls meeting I said, “True, no one resisted the environmentalist new government's diktat to paint over every building with titanium white paint,...”, de Veyra expands his series’ essaying assemblies of conscious and unwitting manifestations of democratic life within gentrified city scenes.

    1.) In this particular four-panel cityscape piece from 2026, de Veyra depicts a seeming harmony occurring between a city government with a supposed “diktat” (a diktat that however makes environmental sense) and what appears to be that city’s existing participatory democracy (represented in the picture by a wall painted with text campaigning for a yes vote for a people’s initiative or measure). This harmony is illustrated by, on the one hand, a blimp sporting words enjoining businesses to renew their licenses on time and, on the other, the aforementioned present participatory democracy, upon which combination we can assume a citizenry’s happiness or satisfaction with their government’s tax collection and spending. Within this harmony, we can also assume the reason why the “diktat” mentioned in the painting’s title is facing no resistance: the citizenry agrees with it!

    2.) While it is true that the color white has a history with elitism and Fascist architecture, the latter of which ironically emulates the ancient and modern architecture of Greece (ironic because Greece is the birthplace of Western democracy), that color (or non-color) has recently been embraced by environmentalist sustainable architecture as the logical outdoor and indoor pigment for hot climates. Environmentalism itself has been more left-wing populist in its leaning and has often been in conflict with big industry-favoring economic conservatism. The color white has also figured in the suffrage movement, and more recently in such pro-democracy actions as the White Wednesdays campaign in Iran and the Ladies in White movement in Cuba.

    3.) Despite the pro-democracy graffiti on the upper wall of the white mini-mall in the painting’s main panel, malls themselves are a symbol of corporate influence on consumerism and of their replacement of less consumerist public squares. Malls are also often private. As architectural aesthetic spaces, they may also function as an escape from urban realities that may need more public engagement. However, one of the texts painted or sculpted on a wall of the mall refer to the building as a “barangay mall,” which is fictional in the sense that no such thing exists. De Veyra presents this as a possibility, as an expansion of the idea of public-private partnership public markets currently existing on certain government properties, although also introducing here that idea to highlight the concept of public-private partnerships (which shifts infrastructure control to corporate entities) as a challenge to democratic governance due to the commercial confidentiality and reduced accountability that comes with them. But, then again, if the “barangay mall” in the painting is supposedly totally government-owned, de Veyra’s mall then becomes a government’s revolutionary appropriation of the private mall concept, claiming the privateness of the mall space for public governance, and for it to take the same context as the public square, the public market, and the public bazaar.

    4.) Note, also, the mini-mall’s structure as postmodernist. After the fourth painting of the series, which implied postmodernist architecture’s (and postmodernism’s) vulnerability to appropriation by authoritarian governments, de Veyra here returns to postmodernist architecture’s friendliness to a more democratic appropriation (e.g., for sheer ornamentation), pluralist culture, multiculture, and local contexts. After all, postmodernist architectural design, as a salad of appropriation processes, has been inspired by and further invites people’s tolerance towards post-structuralist approaches to hitherto fixed architectural contexts.

    5.) The giant pizza art sticker/decal on the window of the pizza restaurant in the painting’s main panel, meanwhile, is here to reference pizza’s associations with democratic activity, such as those by the Pizza to the Polls organization in the United States. Despite being one of Donald Trump’s favorites and Jeff Bezos’ favorite symbol for a small leadership committee, pizza remains a democratic symbol for its inherent characteristic as food accessible to all classes, one of the most customizable food, food designed for sharing, and one the shape of which can reference democracy’s votes coming from all sides. The food also recalls the alt-right-deriving Pizzagate conspiracy theory that terrorized an innocent pizzeria in Washington, D.C. in 2016.

    6.) The pizza chain brand featured in the painting is Yellow Cab. The brand, while Filipino, alludes to the yellow taxicabs of New York City, which introduced the worker-owned cooperative practicing democratic, transparent and decentralized governance despite being under a city government permit system to control traffic chaos. On the riding public’s side, the yellow taxicab has recently become a symbol of a past monopoly that has found a competitor in app-based ride-hailing services, thus a new symbol of consumer choice or options. But note that while the app-based ride-hailing services came later to provide an alternative to the taxi services of Philippine cities, Yellow Cab, the Filipino pizza restaurant chain, came years after the long presence of other big pizza restaurant brands like Pizza Hut and Shakey’s, thus becoming more like the app-based ride-hailing services (rather than the taxi services) in relation to the Filipino pizza consumer.

    7.) The image of the food truck outside the pizza restaurant on the main panel’s foreground implies a fictional offer of more affordable quick menus from the same food store brand, recalling the concept of food trucks as a symbol of accessibility to the public, economic opportunity in catering to lower incomes, and urban inclusion for chefs who cannot afford to build a restaurant. Food trucks have thus represented food as a democratic cultural equalizer, whether they’re found outside or within the complex of corporation-owned malls.

    8.) In urban sociology, cafes’ outdoor umbrellas are regarded as having created a "third space", where sidewalk cafes and public seating areas would serve as informal arenas for civic life, open discourse, and democratic interaction. However, in de Veyra’s painting a cafe's outdoor umbrellas are on a balcony on the second floor, not on a sidewalk or mall walkway. While private balconies are read as liminal zones that private citizens can step into to interact with a public sphere and perhaps also project their voice from there, institutional balconies have historically been associated with power or authority looking down upon the lower masses below. Note, however, that the balcony part of the painting is colored pink, which can be read as availing of a leeway that came with the all-white diktat mentioned in the painting title. The choice of the color pink for this balcony could be said to echo the pinkoism alluded to in de Veyra’s third painting in the series, La Inminente Gentrificación Rosada de la Avenida Paloma.

    9.) In the context of the painting and the series, the image of clothes on mannequins in a display window should inspire thoughts about fashion’s role in democracies, being both a symbol of accessibility through the concept of the ready-to-wear and of class hierarchies with the presence of haute couture.

    10.) The image of the fire hydrant also reappears in this painting, which de Veyra has used in the previous paintings of the series as a symbol of government accountability towards the building of infrastructure as well as a measure of how government implements the equitable distribution of the public’s water resource.

    11.) Other symbols in the painting include a dove, that classic symbol for peace and civil dialogue, and a quadcopter drone that functioned as a symbol of state or corporate espionage in de Veyra’s earlier painting titled Constant grounding… but here representing the democratization of the bird’s-eye view.

    12.) To continue the series’ salute to de Veyra’s favorite soap brands, the painter here includes the relatively-unknown American hand-made soap brand Demo (in the top left panel of the painting). Read into the brand’s name an allusion to the political “demonstration”. “Demo Soap” could also be aurally read as “demos’ soap”, demos (people) being one half of the Latin roots of the word democracy, the other half being kratos (rule). Additionally, hand-made products are regarded as consumer items struggling to engage the heavily-marketed mass-produced ones from big business.

    13.) While gondola lift projects may, from one angle, be a demonstration of effective government public spending for public transport and tourism, their construction have historically been colored by conflicts with the public due to lack or absence of public consultation, conflicts particularly relating to concerns of environmental reviews, local social justice, and safety. In this sense, the gondola lift in the painting is here to inspire discussion about participatory budgeting and participatory democracy.

    14.) As regards the blimp, which reappears in this painting in the series, the image again remotely alludes to the illiberal cartoon character named Colonel Blimp and the “blimp mentality”. But, as in the previous paintings of the series with that image, it should also recall the non-rigid airship’s use by the democratic Allies in World War II against Nazi Germany and Imperialist Japan as coastal patrol, anti-bomber convoy escort, and anti-submarine warfare craft. In recent years, the blimp has been associated with advertising, that field that on the one hand has aided education in providing public awareness while on the other has been helping public and private institutions or wealthy individuals in certain manipulations of public perception for consumerist goals or toward deceptions.

    15.) Also in the main panel, de Veyra has painted a waterfall in the background, to symbolize a feature of the commons, inspiring thoughts about the people’s access to clean water, government’s transparent management of the river system, the fair and equitable allocation of such natural resources, and the people’s civic participation in government decisions regarding these public sources.

    16.) The two small panels of the four-panel piece are arch-shaped. Often associated with ancient architecture and then Christianity’s rise in ancient Rome, thus now with religious or Catholic icons, the arch shape may also recall the windows of Mussolini’s Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana, a building de Veyra also referenced in his 2018 painting “I Look Better Than Him in White”. De Veyra uses it here on two scenes, the one with the “demos’ soap” billboard and the scene with the potted mimosa tree and what appears to be a Chinese restaurant. Semiotically, de Veyra’s use of the arch shape may also be read as highlighting his worship of the democratic idea as a sacrosanct Christian one (e.g., Christian democracy, liberation theology) antithetical to the ideas of Christofascism. . . . Additionally, the arch shape as used here may recall the “pagoda” sleeves, also known as the crisp bell-shaped “angel wings” or the stiff butterfly sleeves, of the modern Maria Clara terno. The terno has been associated with the Philippine elite, specifically the Tagalog elite, until now when there has already been a regionalization of the dress. The terno, when used by the lower middle class to lower classes during special occasions, also points to rentals for such dresses. In short, when the arch shapes in the painting are associated with the modern terno’s crisp butterfly sleeves, it nudges the memory toward the presence of social classes.

    17.) In the lower small panel, de Veyra placed the mimosa tree in a pot to reference Ruskin Bond’s use of the plant as a vibrant symbol of post-colonial democracy in India in the latter’s short story “The Kite Maker”. The plant’s yellow flower has also been recognized as the flower of International Women’s Day.

    18.) The Chinese restaurant, meanwhile, carries the name Siu Bao, which is short for cha siu bao, that Cantonese baozi that was regularly used by the Hong Kong pro-democracy activists in their art, illustrations and stories to celebrate their heritage as they demanded autonomy and accountability. In the Philippines, many members of the Philippine contemporary financial and political elite linked to the country's plutocratic system are Chinese-Filipino, with the Philippine cha siu bao (called siopao) having been used to symbolize Philippine politics that displays the “white” shell of a supposedly legitimate democracy while hiding the meaty agenda of the elite. Despite this symbolism, many Chinese-Filipinos have also figured in many of the country’s pro-democracy and progressive movements.

    19.) The upper right panel features buildings beside a cliff, recalling the ancient palaces of monarchs built on such areas on higher ground for defensive purposes or to overlook crop lands or both. In contemporary contexts, such constructions (as long as they are buildings and not ordinary houses of low- to middle-income families) would have reasons such as the exploitation of private access to panoramic views, security and privacy (seclusion), the display of one’s privilege and wealth on a hill, or the adventurous exploration of engineering’s limits. All of those reasons would spell entitlement or social advantage, even extreme wealth in the case of that last reason. From another angle, the buildings could be read as a metaphor for the adventure of democracy and its need for granite ground in order for it to last centuries and not easily collapse “off a cliff” toward backsliding after a few decades of triumph and enjoyment.

    20.) But one towering building that features gothic windows is supposed to belong to a monastery. Is the monastery there to comment on religion’s off-and-on influence on democracy, with some religious factions opting for either Christian Right directions, for example, or theocracy, at one extreme, even as this influence on a country’s politics (and education, economics, etc.) conflicts with its privilege not to pay taxes? Is it also there to remind us of some religious figures’ defense of democracy? Whichever or if both, the fact remains that many religious buildings are some of those that would get the wherewithal to access locations with panoramic views, security and privacy (seclusion), height (as on a hill) for displaying their presence, or challenges for the adventurous exploration of engineering’s limits. (This inclusion of a religious structure echoes the chapel on top of the green museum building in Constant grounding....)

    21.) According to the painter, the cypress tree in front of the buildings in the painting’s upper right panel alludes to the memoir The Cypress Tree by Kamin Mohammadi. In Persian culture and art, the cypress tree is a symbol for deep-rooted toughness and stubborn defiance against brutal weather conditions, thus a metaphor for the Iranian nation bending with the gusts of despotism and conflict but remaining rooted and strong. The cypress image could also reference the Cypress Revolution in Montenegro in 2019. Other evergreen trees also have connections to democratic actions or symbolism.

    22.) Beside the cypress tree in the painting’s upper right panel is a smart lamp post (intelligent street lighting), symbolizing the democratic tension associated with the device. While smart lampposts’ camera, sensors and wi-fi are useful to citizens in such uses as the tracking of traffic and weather factors, there are also concerns about their use by illiberal officials in government for, say, surveillance or facial recognition tagging.

    23.) The upper right panel is also mostly composed of a sky image. The artist means this to be a reminder of democracy’s not being a thing that just fell from the sky, i.e., of democracy’s having always been a product of a past revolution that thus must be guarded from losing that revolutionary zeal of its beginnings. The artist means to say that the sky will not interfere and will allow democratic backsliding to occur if the people who have been blessed by it will allow that occurrence to progress.

    24.) The artist, Jojo Soria de Veyra, signs his name here as JSdV26 on all the panels (look for them) except the main panel. In the main panel, he painted—in lieu of “JSdV26”—the text “Justicia Social del Valle 26” on the mini-mall structure as the name of that “Barangay Mall,” signifying that Justicia Social del Valle could be the name of the barangay-cum-valley and the number 26 as, say, the sitio number. The acronym of that mall name would also be JSdV26. Although the number 26 in the signature clearly refers to the year the painting was completed, 2026, in Philippine politics the number may symbolically refer to Section 26 of the 1987 Constitution’s Article II and the history of failure around the realization of that Section’s intent or hope. . . . Meanwhile, on the top right panel, the JSdV26 signature on one of the towers is topped by the words “Monasterio” and a vague but possible “de,” to signify that the tower belongs to the monastery of/at Barangay Justicia Social del Valle, Sitio 26.

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PREMIERING at a tribute show for Alwin Reamillo which opened on 9 September 2026 at Altro Mondo Creative Space in Makati, the painting displays the same Reamilloan obsessions with memory and history as well as theme-treatments common to both artists, including the depiction of conflicting meanings of certain symbols, the communality of memory, and continuity between art "frames".