Jel Suarez reflects on awards and residencies, all while building a sustainable artistic life at her own pace.

Words Marz Aglipay
Photos courtesy of Jel Suarez, Allain Dadivas, West Gallery, Jade Suarez, Tricia Yu, CCP Visual Arts and Museum Division, and Blanc Gallery
January 09, 2026

Work continues for Jel Suarez—artist and co-owner of Slo Bar, a café in Bacolod—where her creative practice and entrepreneurial work coexist and support each other. For many artists in the Philippines, sustainability is essential to making a life in the arts possible, and Suarez embodies this balance with clarity and intention.

In 2025, she has been deeply engaged in milestone exhibitions, including the Thirteen Artists Awards exhibit at the National Museum and the restaging of her 2024 solo exhibition at Blanc As I Lift One Stone for the Ateneo Art Awards (AAA). And it seems she will be even more immersed in her practice in the coming years, having been selected for several residencies awarded through the Ateneo Art Awards: CASA San Miguel (San Antonio, Zambales), Liverpool Hope University (Liverpool, United Kingdom), OCAD University (Ontario, Canada), Koganecho Area Management Center (Yokohama, Japan), and Monsoon Southeast Asia (Singapore).

*Portrait of Jel Suarez by Allan Dadivas.*

At the AAA ceremony, I watched Suarez walk up to the stage to receive her first award—an emotional moment that brought her to tears. She spoke of the pent-up frustrations that had accumulated while preparing for the TAA exhibit and managing the ingress for both major exhibitions, all on top of her responsibilities at home. To me, as an observer, that moment felt like a quiet affirmation of her commitment to honoring her own pace: slow, certain, and unhurried.

As more residencies were announced in her name, I sensed a shift—from validation to the weight of expectation. Suarez later shared, “Residencies aren’t every artist’s goal, and not everyone has the ability to be ‘selfish,’ in a way—able to step back from home or other responsibilities. As one writer noted in response to my post, there’s rarely a perfect balance… it’s always a decision, weighing personal life against everything else.

*reclamation of trace, 2025, 33.5 × 45 inches, serigraph, collage. From Held By the Surface. Image courtesy of West Gallery.*

“I agree that they are valuable turning points. They offer a space to reflect and reassess why and how you make art within a broader context. And although I feel apprehensive, I want to approach these residencies consciously and embrace them as part of the beautiful journey my art has led me to.”

Winning awards is never the end-all, be-all of an artistic career. Speaking with an artist whose curiosity has long guided her practice, it becomes clear that Suarez’s path extends far beyond the conventional idea of becoming a full-time artist. Awards or not, she continues to carve out a life in the arts on her own terms—and that may be the most meaningful achievement of all.

An enduring text (I. Birthbone, II. Hollow, III. Trace), 2025, 75 x 36 x 10 inches, acrylic display shelf, acrylic components, image projection. CCP Thirteen Artist Awards 2024 Exhibition. Image courtesy of Tricia Yu, CCP Visual Arts and Museum Division.

Speaking Out

Suarez, along with her fellow 2024 Thirteen Artists Awardees, stood in solidarity regarding an issue that has quietly burdened past recipients for decades: the lack of fair and commensurate compensation for their labor. “Catalina Africa voiced what many of us quietly carry—how creative labor is systematically and consistently undervalued,” Suarez shared. “Going through these award cycles made it even clearer what the bare minimum should be for government institutions that claim to support or celebrate artists.

“To me, there has to be financial support that isn’t limited to a one-time prize or honorarium. Artists sustain their practices over years, not isolated moments, and institutions need to acknowledge that meaningful support must be ongoing.

*Speaking To The Signs, 2024, 9.25 x 24.25 inches, Assemblage. From As I Life One Stone. Images courtesy of Blanc Gallery.*

“Exhibitions are laborious. The work that goes into preparing, transporting, installing, and contextualizing artworks is immense, and all of this must be compensated. Logistics, travel, meals, accommodations—these shouldn’t be treated as extras or perks. They are basic support, especially for awards that bring together artists from different regions.”

“Artists shape the very institutions we’re part of. For that to continue, institutions must be willing to listen to our needs, experiences, and insights when building or rebuilding their systems. Supporting artists means involving us in the structure itself, not merely celebrating us at the end of the process.”

*echoes beneath the canopy, 2025, 33.5 x 45 inches, serigraph, collage. From Held By the Surface. Image courtesy of West Gallery.*

Recognition often complicates one’s relationship with their work, and I asked Suarez whether awards have shifted how she now views her practice. “I think these recognitions have reinforced the value of pacing and rhythm in my practice,” she replied. “They reminded me that the work matters more than conforming to conventional expectations of what a studio should look like or what continuous production should be. Art processes can exist—and thrive—on their own terms.”

A Life Outside Manila

*Installation view of As I Lift One Stone at Ateneo Art Gallery (2025). Image courtesy of the artist.*

Recognitions can shape many artists’ ambitions—whether as markers of commercial viability or proof of sustained excellence. For Suarez, however, moving out of Manila has softened those expectations. “Awards can create pressure to stay visible or to constantly produce. But moving outside Manila eased that pressure and reminded me that staying true to my own rhythm matters more than trying to be everywhere at once.”

Perhaps having a parallel career outside the arts also helps. “It grounds me and reminds me that life isn’t just about art— and that art itself can exist in many forms and in the most unexpected parts of my everyday life.”

Choosing to stay based in Negros allows her to engage with life on her own terms. “I’d like to stay grounded outside Manila, to work at my own pace. Hopefully, I can create work inspired by what I observe and experience here—focusing less on a fixed five- or ten-year plan and more on simply being present each day.”

I closed our conversation by asking Suarez for her advice to artists who feel pressured to keep up with external expectations. She shared: “Take time to work at your own pace and don’t wait for external validation to create for yourself. Embrace life’s varying energies and let them strengthen you. Use them to deepen your understanding—and to spark more questions. Don’t think of art as separate from life. You can be one thing and another at the same time. Use that duality to make each part of you stronger.”

At this stage in Suarez’s career, it becomes clear how valuable it is to live a life that feeds one’s practice. The strongest artworks come from lived experience and intentionality, not from the churn of market demand. The artist finds the clarity their work needs to speak when they honor their own rhythm.

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