

Inspired by the Japanese Ukiyo-E woodblock prints of the Floating World, my Manila Ukiyo-E prints show the daily urban life of Filipinos. To create each piece, I take pictures of interesting people I see in the streets, then use the photos as reference for line drawings and print them on watercolour paper. That’s where the print ends. When it comes to colouring, I hand-paint them using a range of techniques depending on the subject including watercolour, gouache or even marker pens, making these works a hybrid of both print and hand-painted art.

As an homage to the original art form, and as reminder to myself of what I am trying to achieve by using this style, I sign these pieces as best I can in Japanese Katakana.



Ang Probinsyana is about a woman from the provinces who visits Manila for the first time. She is dressed in flashy and colourful clothes she thinks are the current fashion in the city. She wants to blend in, but is shocked to find out that upon arriving that no one is dressed like she is. In her imagination, Manileños are all fashion savvy and dress in a sophisticated way. In reality, she’s a fish out of water and everyone in the city can see it from a mile away. Realising this, she is embarrassed. She has no idea where she is, but can’t even make herself to speak to anyone to ask directions because she is so mortified.

We’ve all been there.

This piece is called Lagos, the Filipino word for “through” or “to pass through”. I wanted to encapsulate the sense of the way people pass by her and through her space as she tries to catch some sleep. She lives under the Philippine National Railway stop sign beside the train tracks in Blumentritt . It’s unclear if her house burnt down or she was evicted, but she brought all of her things with her when she moved here. Among the possessions she has kept are a few buckets, clothes, blankets, a beach chair, a huge umbrella and some plastic bags. We can also see mounted and framed photos of Mary and Jesus behind her – she keeps her faith in them and their protection.

This area is a busy one and the only shelter is the LRT station above her. The spot she has chosen is both noisy and chaotic. People pass by selling their wares or on the way to the wet market. And there is of course a constant flow of traffic: jeepneys and cars coming to and fro from the two separate streets of Rizal Ave with their pollution and endless blasting of horns as they pass. Let’s not forget the tricycles, pedicabs and bikes who come out of the narrow avenue of Old Antipolo street. And did I mention, the two trains? One is above her, powered by electricity, making sparking noises as it blows its horn like a blue whale. The other the is run by diesel and hydraulics, making chugging and clattering noises as it passes by on its rails, trumpeting like a proud mammoth.

Despite all this, she seems calm.

In this piece, called Saglit, a woman is trying to stave off sleep with the energy drinks she sells at her mini-canteen. Saglit basically means, “for a short while” or “moment”. If we had a minute, maybe we’d all do this. We’d shut our eyes for a second, just to steal a moment of darkness in the brightly lit morning. The woman’s battery has run dry and the engine itself has nothing more to burn. Her body and mind shut down and her subconscious begs her to sleep. Neither passing people nor the place matters. Now, it’s just her and the Sandman, shouting silently for her to sleep. Inviting her to indulge and stay a while immersed in her own fantasies and telenovela dreams.

Who hasn’t tried to fight off slumber at some point in their lives?

Bantay is the story of the University of the Philippines Diliman’s (UPD) beloved resident superhero, Zorro. He is a living and breathing embodiment of what a real crime fighter might look like. He protects the citizens inside UPD and also helps with the flow of traffic whenever he can. To most people he might be seen as strange, or someone with nothing better to do with his time. But what can we learn from him? We know that he’s always there, accumulating a small amount of fame (but no fortune) just being who he is. He can’t lift a hundred ton barbell, nor can he fly. Maybe his super power is the commitment to being himself, which is something truly to be admired.

A woman is sleeping on the steps of a closed shop in Quezon City. Content to have a bit of shelter, staying there just for the moment letting the rain pass. Since it’s Sunday, the shop is closed all day and she doesn’t have to worry about the owner shooing her away. For me it was striking that the shop is located beside an eat-all-you-can restaurant.

The title of this artwork is a reference to the fact that the owner of the shop is somewhat like a landlord to the homeless woman. But if you ask me, the real landlord here is the homeless woman. It seems to me as though she owns the entire land. She can sleep and stay anywhere she wants, not just at the shop.

This piece is called Happy Meal. A father looks for scrap material he can sell, while pushing a cart carrying his son. The dichotomy of enjoyment and worry is seen in this piece. As the child happily eats his food and takes in the sights around him, he is oblivious to his father’s worry that he will not be able to give his son another meal later in the day. He has even sacrificed his own portion of lunch so that his son might not be hungry later. It might be their last meal for the day if he isn’t able to find some recyclables to sell.

I call this one Madonna by Herself. The title is derived from Leonardo Da Vinci’s painting, Madonna by the Rocks (also known as Virgin on the Rocks) and the style is inspired by Rembrandt Van Rijn’s self-portraits, in which he purposely poses with the light source coming from behind, trying to study how light bounces off the skin from different angles and directions.

I saw this woman at the side of the street, just sitting there. I saw beauty in her pose as she sat there in the dark, alone, seemingly waiting either for solitude or salvation. I was in a a traffic jam, and the light of the stuck, stationary vehicles provided a classical glow, hiding her facial features, but still providing enough illumination to reveal her posture.

A boy, either sleeping or crying and lost in the streets of Blumentritt’s wet market. I wondered if this boy might be sleeping because he’s tired from helping his parents sell vegetables. The vegetable sellers wake up early, before dawn to gather and prepare their produce. Alternatively he might be lost, frightened and exhausted. Maybe he was brought here by his own feet exploring, or maybe abandoned by his friends. Or worse, maybe he was separated from his family overwhelmed by the sea of people in Blumentritt. If you look closely at his left slipper, the name Paul is written. And maybe that’s his name, who knows?

I call this piece Diwata. I saw a woman bathed in light, glowing and gleaming at the side of the street, illuminating the shade cast by the few trees and leaves still in the city. She brought to mind a diwata, or benevolent spirit, a type of fairy that can transform themselves in order teach humans lessons on how to tend to Mother Nature. I felt that perhaps she was sitting, waiting for someone to pass by and notice her, ready to test the hearts of man, to prove that kindness still exist in this dog-eat-dog world.

Illustration: Marius Black/The Guardian

Raket is the story of a tricycle driver who has parked his packed motor vehicle on the side of the street to steal some sleep. We can see that his trike is filled with all sorts of things used in selling vegetables and other perishable goods in the wet market herein the Philippines. Umbrellas, a crate, some weights and planks, cardboards, tarps and bilaos all crammed in and on this mobile market.

Raket in Filipino can refer to a sideline or small business which is often illegal (but not always). His raket might be illegal, because often the wet market vendors just pop upon the side of the street, setting up their goods and selling them without even a shadow of a permit. In Blumentritt, wet market vendors occupy almost the entire street, so much so that vehicles have a hard time getting through.

It’s a daily errand for Filipinos to get their dose of produce and protein at the wet market, which we call palengke. Sure, we can go to a grocery store, but mostly the groceries we have here only offer frozen meat, canned foods and other non-perishable goods. If you really want to buy everything on your shopping list, you have go to the market.

To be able to survive here in Manila, one has to be able to adapt. Make a couple of adjustments to stretch one’s salary to pay for the rent and still be able to buy a healthy meal for one’s family. The tricycle driver/stallholder has done this splendidly. Truly, his afternoon nap is well deserved.

Marius Black is a Filipino lives in the Manila with his family, wife and son. He paints people he sees when talking walks around the city and write stories about them, which can be found on Instagram and Facebook. He also exhibits in galleries, and publishes comics, poetry and art books with his wife (also an artist) as tandem art group Kuro Saku. Contact them via kurosakustudio@gmail.com

If you’re an illustrator or graphic artist with an idea for The Illustrated City series, email us at Cities@theguardian.com

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