For a dissertation on national support for the arts and reconstruction of the national culture during the authoritarian regime of Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines, it seemed only natural to interview his wife and collaborator, Imelda. But it might also have seemed an unrealistic goal, given Imelda's political notoriety. Nevertheless, Pearlie Rose S. Baluyut, a Filipino émigré and UCLA PhD Candidate in art history, prepared a letter and a list of questions, giving it to an aunt in the Philippines who "handed the file to Imelda over dinner. The next thing I know, her secretary is calling me to make an appointment."

Pearlie thinks Imelda's enthusiastic response had to do with her asking "questions people don't want to ask about the arts," Pearlie says. "Most scholars ignore the Marcoses' artistic projects because they disagree with them politically." While Pearlie's intention is not "to attack or redeem either side," she felt that the their contributions-which formed part of a long genealogy of art patronage and cultural production in the service of politics, the nation, and the self-deserve a critical reexamination. One such contribution is the Cultural Center of Philippines built on land reclaimed from Manila Bay.

During their six-hour interview, Imelda was "the ultimate performer," Pearlie says, surprised at "how animated, how charismatic she is." Imelda "made me feel that I was the only person she wanted to be with at that moment," Pearlie adds. "She fed me. She took me for a ride in her Mercedes limo with bodyguards." In what Pearlie calls "a uniquely Filipino strategy," Imelda did her best to make Pearlie "feel comfortable, but making me aware of my debt of gratitude and cultural duty to reciprocate."

Before she nurtures expectations of anything but impartiality from Pearlie, Imelda might want to talk to the folks who run the Ayala Museum in the Philippines, the subject of a paper Pearlie wrote for a course in museum theory and methodology early in her graduate career at UCLA.

A Spanish family that came to the islands as galleon traders hundreds of years ago, the Ayalas control a great deal of the Philippine economy, from beer to life insurance to real estate. Their museum, established in the 1960s, blends fine art with natural history and features dozens of dioramas that are "an 'imagining' of Philippine history," says Pearlie. "You can see the whole museum as a big commercial advertisement and a powerful reminder of Spanish colonial legacy."

The Ayalas are one of the most influential and affluent families in the Philippines, surviving because they "know how to tiptoe around regimes," that "no one will say anything negative about them," says Pearlie. "Irreverent as I am," she did. Her professor, Donald Preziosi, loved the paper and encouraged her to submit it to the Australian Journal of Art. It was accepted. Although it took some time to appear-the article was part of a special issue-"it was a very painless process," recalls Pearlie, "uncharacteristic of first-time publishing."

Another early publication helped support her visit to the Philippines and her meeting with Imelda Marcos. For the Philippine centennial in 1998, UCLA's Asian American Studies Center sponsored a photo exhibit on the Philippines at the Fowler Museum of Cultural History. Assistant Director Enrique de la Cruz invited Pearlie to collaborate on the exhibit and an accompanying book, both titled Confrontations, Crossings, and Convergence: Photographs of the Philippines and the United States, 1888-1998. Pearlie did much of the research and writing, rewarded for her efforts by a Fulbright grant to conduct research in the Philippines during the 1999-2000 academic year.

Home again, Pearlie is focused now on her dissertation, "Art Patronage and National Culture in the Philippines During the Marcos Regime, 1965-1986," hoping for a postdoctoral appointment that will let her turn the dissertation into a book and perhaps a documentary film.

Her dissertation project is an idea that developed gradually. Professors at Los Angeles Valley Community College politicized her, she says: "I think I still carry that fire, which informs my work right now." They also encouraged her to apply to UCLA.

There, she became "an accidental art historian" when she was turned down as a fine arts major but accepted in art history, a field she quickly came to love. Recognizing that her writing skills were inadequate for what she wanted to say, Pearlie set out to improve them. "The best teacher is mistake," she says. "Because I was making a lot of mistakes, I learned rapidly."

As her writing improved, she was also discovering her focus. Starting her UCLA career with a study of 19th-century French art, Pearlie did her MA thesis on the life and art of Juan Luna in Paris. According to her, Luna was an interesting case study because he represented the complexity of the Filipinos' national becoming at the turn of the century. In a course on political cartoons with her adviser, Albert Boime, she wrote about popular and underground comic strips of the Marcos era. More and more, she found herself drawn to issues of colonialism and nationalism.

While some researchers in Philippine art history are preoccupied with biography, "the glorification of genius," Pearlie says she's more interested in "the connection of one artist to another, the socio-political fabric that binds them together." Her dissertation research, which crystallized after consultation with minor adviser and history professor Michael Salman, "is bringing me home to issues I was born with, but in an art historical context." Although she sometimes misses "the manual tactile relationship you have with art in the fine arts," she has no regrets about her choice of art history: "I can integrate my political motivation into the work by writing about it," she says. "I've never felt so satisfied and fulfilled because now it's my voice."

Published in Winter 2001, Graduate Quarterly