The Regine revolution

By Tim Yap
Inquirer
Last updated 07:39pm (Mla time) 09/29/2006

1986 WAS a year of revolutions. It was the year when our people kicked out a dictatorship that stifled our freedom. It was the year the first lady president stepped into power. And it was the year when the Filipino people heard the powerful voice of Regine Velasquez.

Twenty years after the serenade, the courtship has not waned. This chanteuse is a part of the Pinoy singing subconscious. Her songs are perennial karaoke favorites and singing contest staples. Ask any tilt contender who they look up to and chances are, they are influenced by the ever-evolving Cher of the Philippines.

Her beginnings as undisputed Bagong Kampeon winner were stuff of legend. Her vocalization technique, a neck-deep immersion in the rivers of Bulacan have reached myth status. Her vocal range, decibels higher than heaven, is a test of infinity.

So infinite is this vocal spectrum that it becomes the climax of every performance. And her audience awaits every climax, eagerly anticipating the fireworks coming from the depths of her lungs.

Her own woman

She had arrived at the shoot 30 minutes earlier than everyone. Famous for her knack of not needing any makeup artist, she walks into the North Forbes mansion where the shoot was going to be held with her trademark concealer-heavy look, ready for her closeup to be shot by photographer Steve Tirona.

We had a different idea for this shoot though, and after clearing things up with her management, we proceeded to have the Shu Uemura husband and wife hair and makeup tandem of Ricky and Claire Diokno do their Super! Regine makeover.

Out came the cotton candy Marie Antoinette wig, Angelo Villanueva corsets, net stockings and Tessa Prieto-Valdes ballgowns as styled by Bora goddess Freida Dario. The team worked quietly. Every now and then she would still take the makeup brushes and efficiently apply it her way. There was this hushed reverence on the set while Regine was being primped, only to be broken when Regine looked at the mirror, smiled and said, "I look like a drag queen." A nervous chuckle signaled the start of the photo shoot.

In between takes, we talked in depth about anything and everything from her Louie Mamengo long gown phase to her supposedly turning down the role of Kim in Miss Saigon. "I didn’t want to live in London on my own. I was young and still very much attached to my family."

Industry bull

When she warmed up she was really engaging, exuding the down-to-earth quality of someone who has worked all her life to get to and to stay where she’s at now. I somehow sensed a certain physical tiredness, like she had enough of some things in the industry where she grew up.
"People bull sh*t too much," she said.

After two decades, this girl knows what she wants and gets it. "I just want to continue working. Madami kaming ganito. We are not eaten up by the system."

She gets irked easily when nosy tabloid press members bombard her with questions regarding her love life and her supposed dates with her surgeon. "I just want to keep private what very little private life I have."

Throughout our Super! conversation, she exuded the inner strength of a woman who has had her fair share of battles. Her fighting spirit was of a warrior ready for war... anytime.

Growth as an artist

"I started singing what the record company wanted me to sing. And then I got old," she said, recalling her early years in the industry. Her self-deprecating puns endear her to her mass audiences. And even in her concerts at high-end venues, she never fails to show that side of her--the probinsyana who got lucky, the underdog who has done well. Visions of her winning the Asia Pacific Singing Contest and her dad Mang Gerry and former manager Ronnie Henares slide into the 20-year-old photo album.

"I’ve become very much involved in all aspects of producing my albums. I still like to experiment with my music style, work with various artists and composers." When talk shifted to her critics, she revealed a more vulnerable side. Suppressing what I thought were tears, she changed the topic of agitation and said, "I get upset when people criticize my singing. It’s been 20 years since I started at kung hindi ka naman si Whitney Houston, eh ano ang karapatan mo na pintasan ako? Sila kaya ang pakantahin ko dyan."

Throughout the shoot, she owned every frame she entered. She played shy, vamped it up, exuded rage and flirted with the camera with a chameleon-like quality that echoed her various style evolutions. She was one of the few who could get away with changing her look every season, or every time she felt like it. There was even a time she felt like performing barefoot, so off went the shoes.

These days though, the songbird who sings about the Philippines confesses to a designer shoe fetish. "These days, I’m crazy about my shoes. You should see my collection."

Her own title

What she’s not crazy about are labels--Concert Queen, Box Office Queen, Songbird, Maya Bird, etc. "I’m actually not comfortable with titles--I don’t like the pressure."

She glances at her makeup once again, retouches on her own, and declares proudly. "I’m still very much a probinsyana. I still go to Bulacan every day."

For somebody who has followed her career for the past two decades, I finally had the chance to see the soul behind the songs.

She is more than just the undisputed Bagong Kampeon. She is more than just Asia’s Songbird.
She is Regine Velasquez. And that’s good enough for her.