GSIS National Art Competition 2026: Non Finito Work

I almost joined the GSIS (Government Service Insurance System) National Art Competition this year. Almost being the operative word.

The competition, which started back in 2004 in partnership with the Art Association of the Philippines, has become one of the more established platforms for Filipino artists. This year marks its 21st run, and for 2026, they streamlined things to a single category: representational. The theme, “The Filipino Public Servant,” sounds simple enough on paper, but it actually takes a bit of thinking to land on a subject that feels fresh without trying too hard.

TOPS, where I purchase online my
museum wrap canvases.
I like the quality of their canvases.

Entries had to follow a strict format, 36 by 48 inches, landscape, and submitted by April 25. The call for entries first appeared on the GSIS Museo ng Sining Facebook page in February, with full details released in March. That gave artists roughly a month to produce a finished work. At the time, I was confident I could pull it off. Acrylic dries fast, I told myself. What could go wrong?

Apparently, time.

My work in progress is still sitting in the studio, very much unfinished and very much judging me. So to everyone who made the deadline, genuinely, hats off. Finishing is a skill in itself.

I decided to join this year mainly because of the theme. With all the political controversies and corruption allegations surrounding government, it felt like a good exercise to step back and look at public service from a grounded, everyday perspective. No grandstanding, no heavy-handed symbolism, just actual people doing actual work, quietly fulfilling their mandate as public servants despite the noise and scrutiny around them. That led me to the Department of Environment and Natural Resources, specifically the Biodiversity Management Bureau.

Their work under the Coastal and Marine Ecosystems Management Program includes mangrove conservation, among other things, and that immediately clicked with me because I already had visual references in mind. I had just been to Puerto Galera, where I visited the Puerto Galera Mangrove Conservation and Ecotourism Area. It was my first time seeing mangroves up close, and visually, they’re hard to ignore. The roots alone are enough to build an entire composition around.

I was there with cousins, one of whom dives regularly, while I stayed firmly on the “enjoy the beach from above sea level” team. That contrast, being above and below water, stuck with me. So the concept for the painting became a split-level composition, inspired by over-under photography. It’s the kind of image where you see what’s happening above the waterline and below it at the same time, which is perfect if you want to show two connected but very different scenes in one frame.

Since I didn’t have an underwater camera setup and only had my phone, I supplemented my references with a few images online just to get the underwater perspective right. The goal wasn’t to be hyper-technical anyway, but to make the composition believable and cohesive.

The canvas is divided horizontally by the waterline. Above it, the focus is on people. Below it, the focus shifts to the mangrove ecosystem.

On the upper half, I placed three main DENR figures interacting with the community. The central figure is a female DENR employee guiding a child as he plants a mangrove sapling. The child is with his grandfather, who I imagine as a fisherman. It’s a simple, unstaged moment of teaching and participation, but it also points to something bigger. Mangrove restoration carries long-term, generational benefits, reflected in that pairing of grandfather and grandson, with the DENR employee facilitating that continuity. Often associated with blue carbon and vital ecosystem services, these efforts help sustain coastal communities and biodiversity for decades, even centuries.

My reference for the boat. I would have added the DENR
BMB, ang bagong Lipunan Logos as I progress.

My reference for the mountain/volcano
in the background. Looks like the Mt. Mayon.

On the right side, there’s another DENR worker standing on a boat. The boat carries the Philippine flag along with DENR and BMB markings. He’s holding a trash bag filled with collected debris in one hand and a pair of litter tongs in the other. It’s meant to show the less glamorous part of the job, the cleanup that usually happens in the background.

One of the informational signages
I photographed at the Puerto Galera Mangrove site

On the left side of the canvas, there’s another DENR employee working with a local resident, planting and tagging mangrove seedlings. Behind them is a bamboo walkway, directly inspired by agency logos. That detail grounds the scene in something familiar and recognizable, especially for anyone who has visited similar eco-tourism sites.

The composition above water is balanced but not symmetrical. Each group is doing something slightly different, but all within the same narrative of community involvement and environmental work.

Below the waterline is where the contrast comes in.

The mangrove roots take up most of the space, forming a dense, almost sculptural network. On the foreground on right side, I added two plastic water bottles caught in the roots. It is also the same side where the worker collecting trash aboard a boat is placed but on the midground. It’s not meant to be dramatic, just a quiet reminder of what ends up there.

My reference picture for the idea.

On the left side, beneath the planting activity, the underwater scene is cleaner and more active, with more fish moving through the roots. It’s a subtle visual comparison between areas that are maintained versus those that aren’t.

The idea is straightforward. Same ecosystem, different conditions, depending on human action.

Color-wise, I wanted the upper half to feel like early morning. Not a full sunrise, just that soft, in-between light. Think pale peach, muted yellows, hints of lavender and blue. Enough warmth to suggest the sun is coming up, but still cool overall. Light rays filtering through clouds add a bit of movement without overcomplicating the sky.

The underwater section leans slightly darker and cooler, but still clear enough to show detail in the roots and fish. I didn’t want it to feel murky or heavy, just distinct from the atmosphere above.

Everything about the composition is intentional but still meant to feel natural. No exaggerated gestures, no overly dramatic expressions. Just people doing their jobs, interacting with the environment, and the environment responding in kind.

Environmental themes can easily become too preachy or overly technical, and I wanted to avoid both. The painting isn’t meant to explain mangroves in detail or list out conservation strategies. It’s more about showing a snapshot of what that work looks like on the ground and how it connects to the bigger picture without spelling it out.

In my head, the finished piece is already there. The balance, the lighting, the color transitions, it all makes sense visually. Translating that onto canvas, however, is a different story, especially when time isn’t entirely on your side.

So yes, I didn’t make the deadline this year. Big congratulations to everyone who made it in, met all the requirements, and secured their spot for a shot at the ₱600,000 grand prize. That alone already makes them strong contenders, and I’m looking forward to seeing their work.

More than anything, the whole process turned into a solid learning experience. From planning a composition within a fixed format, to gathering references, to actually starting a piece with a clear narrative in mind, it gave me a better sense of what it takes to follow through from concept to completion. It also reinforced how different the pace and mindset can be across competition pieces, personal work, and commissioned projects. Each comes with its own expectations, structure, and creative approach, and navigating those differences is part of the process.

Next year, I might try again, depending on the theme, with a clearer runway and a schedule built around the piece from the start. Until then, my studio is officially open for commissioned work. I am ready to take your vision and translate it into a custom painting. If you have a concept that belongs on canvas, let’s make it happen.