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.
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, dance with us — 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. For example, the piece I created right after graduating, Lato2x, was made for AUSTI. Dance and Physical Theatre. That work was grounded in play and games because it drew from the Filipino toy Lato-Lato.
With Bahala/o, I initially thought it was about saying “f*ck it” to everything. But I soon realised it wasn’t about carelessness or “YOLO”—it was about trust. Trusting impulses, listening to the body, and allowing the present moment to be shaped by both past and future selves.
The work taps into different performance ecologies and identities—not only through dance styles, but also structurally, and by incorporating voice. I was fortunate to receive invaluable external support, collaborating with other independent artists, hearing Filipino voices, and training in areas I felt needed strengthening. Hearing other perspectives became essential, as the work itself reflects different versions of self.
My director observership at La Boite also made me deeply interested in the power of the script. Out of this, I created a “dance script,” which proved highly beneficial not only for me but also for my collaborators. Explicitly stating the different roles (ie. producer Buddy, director Buddy, friend Buddy) throughout the process also enriched rehearsals- which often felt meta, aligning with the multiverse of self at the core of the work.
I’m able to take risks and experiment with new frameworks because I’ve built a habitual foundation I can always fall back on. This, to me, is the essence of bahala na: being able to surrender, knowing there’s a base to catch me. That safety net gives me the confidence to let go, to embrace bahala na in certain moments, while continuing to expand my toolbox and discover new ways of creating.
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 idea really came to life at a pivotal time in my life. After graduating, I felt like I was peaking — having done a scholarship in Europe and a lot of exciting opportunities. I told myself 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 and the very next day, my family received tragic news: my grandfather had passed suddenly. We had to rush back to the Philippines, and everything shifted.
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
Bahala/o was my first ever full-length, supported production — so the hardest part was really learning the ropes. I’ve upskilled so much through this process. Honestly, even if the work had been a complete flop, I could still say Bahala Na— because of how much it’s shaped my understanding of the creative landscape and grown me as an artist. I’m only three years out of university, and I never expected to receive this level of love and support from Metro so early in my career. It’s something I’ve always dreamed of, and the reality has been even better than I imagined.
As an independent artist, one of the biggest challenges was wearing multiple hats. It wasn’t just about choreographing; it was producing, managing, marketing, connecting with the right people, making sure the space was set — all of it. That was overwhelming at first, but it’s also been one of the most valuable parts of the journey, because it’s pushed me to grow in every aspect of my practice.
The hardest part, though, was truly living the spirit of bahala na. Everything about this production was new: writing my first QASP grant, creating contracts, handling behind-the-scenes logistics, reaching out to idols, and making what I like to call “big boy moves.” All of that was scary and vulnerable. I didn’t always know 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 the constant navigation of multiple identities — a multiverse of selves that adapt and shift. Growing up Filipino in Australia meant always living in the in-betweens: rooted in heritage, but adapting to a new cultural landscape. Each visit back to the Philippines deepens that tension — my Bisaya fading, my English sharpening — but I’ve learned that being Filipino isn’t about fluency or appearance. It lives in the soul, in the stories, in the deep ties to home and family.
I’m grateful to my parents for resisting assimilation and raising me within our roots — that resistance shapes everything I create. Bahala/o carries that spirit: an invitation to feel the fluidity of culture, the resilience of self, and the beauty of uncertainty.
Image: Aeron Maevin
Oh, there’s so many little moments I love, but one that really stands out is the rice-throwing section. The first time we tested it, it was fully improvised — that’s when the iconic ‘I LOVE RICE’ moment was born. It was even funnier because my brother was tossing rice straight into my mouth! Those developmental moments are what make creating works like this so joyful.
In terms of the work itself, the budots section is definitely a favorite. It’s pure Pinoy pride, it’s giving full ‘Hoiii Philippines’ energy. I had long dreamed of including Sherwin (DJ Love) in this project and using his track was a highlight. For context, DJ Love is the originator of budots, a genre from Davao, Mindanao, and it holds 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 is 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 often demands certainty, Bahala/o reminds us that sometimes, to hold on is to let go — and in that paradox, we discover our truest selves.
But beyond its conceptual significance, this project represents so much more. It reflects the hard, persistent work of independent artists and demonstrates what happens when organisations come together to support bold, original work. It also highlights Filipino perspectives in a predominantly Western framework — a conversation I’m continually learning from and contributing to.
Filipino voices are gaining powerful momentum across Queensland’s arts landscape — from Malacañang Made Us (Queensland Theatre) andFortūna (BEMAC). With Bahala/o, I aim to amplify that momentum, building on the foundations laid by previous generations 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, 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.
