Buddy Malbasias expands on his upcoming work Bahala/o, detailing it’s inspiration and purpose as well as his creative process.
Please note, this article contains images and names of deceased persons and references to mental health.
Bahala/o is my love letter to contradictions — seriously unserious, tender yet cheeky, deeply Filipino and delightfully queer. It’s about surrendering to the ride, holding the weight of identity and celebrating multiplicity. Come laugh, reflect and revel in some dance theatre, and yes, you actually get to throw rice at us!
Image: Bahala/o Creative Development (2024) Photo by Georgia Haupt
My creative process always depends on the work itself; what it means, who’s involved and the context it lives in. I don’t tend to follow a strict A-to-Z plan; everything unfolds quite organically. I see creation as a kind of surrender, a dance between trust, impulse, and curiosity which feels very Bahala/o.
For example, my work Lato2x, created for AUSTI. Dance and Physical Theatre, was grounded in play and games, drawing inspiration from the Filipino toy Lato-Lato. In contrast, Bahala/o began with what I thought was a “f*ck it” attitude, but it evolved into something deeper: a reflection on trust and the identities that had shaped us. Trusting impulses, listening to the body and allowing the present moment to be shaped by both past and future selves.
The process of Bahala/o really embodied its philosophy. There was no blueprint for how it would arrive at Metro — it was pure “Bahala na,” surrendering to what comes and trusting that the pieces will find their place. It started as a simple invitation from Liesel Zink to share some early ideas, a solo with rice bags in a traverse setting. I’ve always loved working with found objects and shaping audience experience; I often think in design before choreography. Sometimes ideas appear from lived experience… and sometimes, honestly, from Pinterest (haha)
Rice became the heart of this work amd where it lives; it’s sustenance, offering, celebration, grief — life itself. I wanted to begin with my staple, something that anchors so many Asian cultures, including the Philippines. Through that, the work naturally evolved into a playground where (tradition and the self) / (current us and neglected identities) could co-exist.
Throughout development, I sought external support and collaboration, working with independent artists, hearing Filipino voices and strengthening areas I wanted to grow in, such as dialogue. Hearing other perspectives became essential; the work itself reflects different versions of self so it was key to tap into those performance modes. My director observership at La Boite also influenced this; it made me more aware of the power of a script. Out of that came what I call a “dance script,” which proved invaluable for both me and my collaborators. Explicitly naming my different roles — producer Buddy, director Buddy, friend Buddy — made rehearsals feel meta, aligning beautifully with the multiverse of self at the core of the work.
At the end of the day, I’m able to take risks and experiment with new frameworks because I’ve built a habitual foundation I can always fall back on. That safety net gives me confidence to let go, to truly embrace the ‘Bahala na’ energy: surrendering with trust, knowing there’s a base to catch me.
Image: Bahala/o Studio1 Creative Development (2024) Photo by Georgia Haupt
Bahala/o is the first chapter of my broader creative universe, the Bugas multiverse — a collective body of works exploring identity and reconnection through different lenses. It’s not linear, not prescriptive, but abstract, contemporary and deeply honest.
The seed for it was planted during a huge turning point in my life. After graduating, I felt like I was at my ‘peak’ as a young budding overthinking perfectionist; fresh from a scholarship in Europe, doing exciting work, hungry to prove something. I thought I had to make my first full-length work to one-up myself. But honestly, I had no money, no support — just a dream and thirty days. I even announced the project publicly before I knew if I could pull it off. The next day, my family received tragic news, my grandfather had passed from mental health struggles. “He took his life” I came home to from dance practice. We rushed back to the Philippines and everything changed.
That period forced me to reflect deeply — on life, on what really matters and on the things I worry about unnecessarily. During that time, the phrase ‘Bahala na’ came up again and again. It’s a phrase every Filipino knows, but living it in real life, through grief and uncertainty, gave it new depth. I also reflected on my privilege to return home, and how much memory, grief and love are carried in our bodies.
Bahala/o was born from these return journeys to the Philippines and the memories they resurfaced, filtered through my experience as a queer Filipino-Australian. At its core, Bugas is a tribute to my late lolo, Manuel Luminerias Malbasias — the patriarch whose sudden passing left a deep void and sparked questions about legacy, memory and the stories we carry. Each fragment of the Bugas multiverse is like a speck: a flicker of memory, a ghost of laughter, a whisper of what might have been. Together, they form a living, layered narrative, meant to be felt, digested, and reflected upon.
Ultimately, Bugas is a quiet summons: to reconnect with our roots amid shifting identities, to cradle the inner child who survives in fragments, and to taste the grain of who we are. Bahala/o lives in this multiverse — a work that carries memory, playfulness, grief and resilience all at once.
Image: Buddy Malbasias
As an independent artist, one of the biggest challenges has been wearing so many hats while creating and performing a full-length work. It’s not just about choreographing or being on stage; it’s producing, managing, marketing, meetings on meetings, applying for grants and doing all the invisible work that keeps a project alive. It can be overwhelming, but having the right team and support system truly made all the difference.
This process has pushed me to upskill in so many areas. Honestly, even if the work had completely flopped, I’d still say ‘Bahala na.’ because of how much it’s shaped my understanding of the creative landscape and how deeply it’s grown me as an artist. I’m only three years out of university and I never expected to receive this level of trust from Metro so early in my career. It’s something I’ve always dreamed of.
The hardest part, though, was really living the spirit of ‘Bahala na.’ There were so many new ropes to learn. From writing my first Arts Queensland grant to handling contracts, navigating creative conflicts and reaching out to people I’ve admired for years. I was making what I like to call my “big boy moves.” It was scary and vulnerable, and there were plenty of moments where I had no idea what I was doing. But trusting the process, and trusting myself, was the only way forward.
Image: Bahala/o Studio1 Creative Development (2024) Photo by Georgia Haupt
Bahala/o is for the Filipinos, for the Asians and for the queers.
It’s for anyone living in diaspora or who’s ever felt like they don’t fully belong.
It’s for people who love dance but also love theatre — and for those who don’t want to choose between the two. It’s for lovers of all dance styles, not just contemporary.
It’s also for anyone who just wants to experience some hot, fun art — playful, cheeky, and full of heart. And honestly?
It’s for the people who love rice <3
Image: Bahala/o Backbone Creative Development (2024) Photo by Georgia Haupt
For me, the diaspora is a constant navigation of multiple identities; a multiverse of selves that adapt, shift and coexist. Growing up Filipino in Australia meant always living in the in-betweens: rooted in heritage but continually adapting to new cultural landscapes. Every trip back to the Philippines deepens that tension, my Bisaya sounding more “foreigner”, my English sharpening. But I’ve learned that being Filipino isn’t about fluency. It lives in the soul, in the stories, in our appetite, in the way we move, talk, laugh and connect.
I was often told growing up, especially in more commercial dance spaces, that I was “too much,” that my facial expressions were “too much.” But I’m Filipino. And if you know us, we’re very chalant. Expressiveness is our nature (BONGGACIOUS energy). So much of how I perform and create comes from that deep cultural connection. That embodied sense of being.
I also recognise how privileged I am to have grown up in a family deeply rooted in home and heritage. There was a time I forgot how to speak Bisaya and my cousins were scared of me. After that, my parents decided Bisaya would be the only language spoken at home. I’m grateful to them for resisting assimilation and raising me within our roots. That quiet act of resistance continues to shape who I am and how I create.
Bahala/o carries that same spirit: it’s an invitation to feel the fluidity of culture, the resilience of self and the beauty of uncertainty.
Image: Aeron Maevin
Oh, there are so many little moments I love and it honestly changes all the time. The other week it was the “Art of making rice” section. Then this morning, as I was rewatching footage, it was the opening dance (I couldn’t stop laughing at how unhinged some of those sections are). But one that really stands out is the rice-throwing scene. The first time we tested it, it was completely improvised and that’s when the now-iconic “I LOVE RICE” moment was born. It was even funnier because my brother was tossing rice straight into my mouth! Those spontaneous, chaotic developmental moments are what make creating works like this so fulfilling — being able to feel ‘Bahala na’ in real time.
In terms of the work itself, the Budots section is definitely a favourite. It’s pure Pinoy pride — full “Hoiii Philippines!” energy. I had long dreamed of including Sherwin (DJ Love) in any project and it felt very correct for his music to be part of Bahala/o. For context, DJ Love is the originator of Budots, a genre from Davao, Mindanao, and it carries so much memory, place, and history for me. That section feels like the heartbeat of the work — playful, nostalgic and deeply connected to my roots.
Image: Bahala/o Studio1 Creative Development (2024) Photo by Georgia Haupt
Bahala/o holds space for the beautiful complexity of being; where cultures blend, identities shift and the self is never fixed. It’s a quiet hymn to resilience, a dance between trust and surrender and a celebration of the courage it takes to embrace the unknown. Rooted in the Filipino diaspora and queer experience, it invites audiences to question the boundaries that shape us and to find freedom in not knowing. In a world that constantly demands certainty, Bahala/o reminds us that sometimes, to hold on is to let go, and in that paradox, we discover versions of ourselves.
Beyond ethnicity or cultural identity, it’s really about belonging. About feeling both at home and out of place and finding where we fit among all the versions of ourselves we’ve lived, lost or are still learning to love. Bahala/o is an act of reconnection: to memory, to possibility and to the parts of ourselves we’ve neglected. For anyone who’s ever felt in-between or uncertain, it offers a space where surrender meets resilience. A celebration of what it means to move forward with all the weight, and maybe a bit of chaos, that life brings.
Beyond its conceptual layers, this project also represents the persistence and heart of independent artists. And what becomes possible when organisations come together to support bold, original work. It highlights Filipino perspectives within a predominantly Western framework, contributing to a dialogue I’m still learning from and proud to be part of.
Filipino voices are gaining incredible momentum across Queensland’s arts landscape, from Malacañang Made Us (Queensland Theatre) to Fortūna (BEMAC). With Bahala/o, I hope to keep amplifying that momentum, building on the foundations laid by generations before me — those who ran so we could walk — and contributing to a more inclusive, ambitious and culturally representative future for Queensland’s creative identity and for my own artistic journey.
Image: Bahala/o Studio1 Creative Development (2024) Photo by Georgia Haupt
My ultimate goal is to return home to the Philippines — not just for family, but to connect with artists, communities, and mentors there. My mentor Buboy has started opening those pathways for me, and it’s a dream to deepen those connections and really learn from the cultural roots of my practice.
Locally, there are so many artists in Brisbane who inspire me and who I’d love to learn from, be mentored by, and hopefully collaborate with — people like Merlynn Tong, Courtney Stewart, Gail Sorronda and organisations like BEMAC that champion diverse voices. Honestly, it feels surreal to see multiple Filipino-led works happening simultaneously across BEMAC, Queensland Theatre, and Metro Arts. That’s really exciting to me.
Nationally, I never really imagined myself in a dance company framework — I didn’t think my body or movement fit that mould — but doing my secondment with Chunky Move completely shifted that perspective. I really admire Antony Hamilton and the company’s openness to new possibilities in dance.
And honestly, there are so many independent artists who inspire me daily. I could write a whole article just naming them — it’s a community that constantly fuels me and reminds me why I do what I do.
Image: Bahala/o Studio1 Creative Development (2024) Photo by Georgia Haupt
This work was supported by Studio1 through The Workroom Program. Creative development and showing of the work was supported through Backbone’s Funded HUB Residency.
Hero image courtesy of Aeron Maevin.
