Kaput Wants to Change the Way Manila Raves

The queer-positive collective is turning nightlife into a space for art, experimentation, and connection.

If you don’t look closely enough, you might miss the descent of partygoers slowly trickling into Makati Central Square. Fluttering in the air are their colorful fans that glide along their flowy dresses and loosely draped scarves. Crossing over the popular marketplace into what appears to be an old cinema feels like stepping into a portal.  

Past those doors is a world constructed by Kaput Systems Inc., a collective of artists committed to creating queer-positive spaces. Their latest party, Offset, was an 11-hour audio-visual marathon. From early in the night until the sun rose, partygoers were taken on a journey brought to life through the curation of art programming and lights to create meaning in rave music. Rather than the promise of an endlessly high-octane party, Offset moves in a wave of emotions.

“I always had this in mind. The culture, the sort of odyssey of experiencing the self,” explains Derek Tumala, the founder of Kaput. Once the cinema doors open, music unfolds as a cinematic experience. Behind the sound sets is a wall-to-wall projection screen that translates synths into a visual language. Opening act crwn uses sounds that are both quiet and magnetizing, drawing audiences in when the night is young and unprepared for something manic. As the night progresses, the music grows darker and more intense. The room becomes warmer, limbs loosen, and the music shifts to heavier instrumentals.

Through the ebb and flow of music and visuals, Derek creates a space where art is at the forefront of building the event. While traditional raves focus on the non-stop party, Kaput’s art programming and sound production introduce a new way to enjoy raves and appreciate art experimentation. Collaboration becomes a critical pillar of Kaput. Pulling from different creative circles, performers are paired or grouped in threes. In a particular act, Miggy Inumerable, a creative coder, toggles a program that projects images along with the musical duo Tarsius’s percussion-led electronic music, generating hypnotizing visuals in real time. 

Typically, such improvisations can feel unusual to newcomers yet to experience Kaput’s unconventional events. For Felix (a pseudonym), Offset is his first Kaput event. The slow-burn sounds were unsettling yet alluring to him. “It’s so hard to describe [the music] sometimes. It’s quiet, atmospheric, and there’s only a beat from the bass … individually it sounds like noise, but when put together, it’s really good.”

Because the featured artists are intent on experimentation, remixing existing songs is not the norm for Offset. This lack of familiarity creates an open-ended ambiguity, leaving attendees to fill in the blanks for themselves. It is in this abstractness where raves become a space for regulars to find a sense of introspection and meaning amid the exhilaration of partying. 

For regulars like Caitlyn Ang, nightlife has become uninspired. “People don’t feel the community anymore. Everyone’s just there to look for a partner, to look for a hot guy, a hot girl, to look good, not even to properly dance,” she says.

Self-monitoring, the awareness of one’s performance, becomes antithetical to the freedom that comes with losing oneself in music, and so Caitlyn has found a form of meditation in Offset. To her, the blend of visuals and music allows her to think beyond her own worldview. “It’s [Offset] like the world beyond what we know, and I mean, that’s my perspective… it’s giving us a chance, an opportunity to see beyond what we see, to think on a broader scale.”

Positioning raves as a late-night exercise in rumination and reflection appears to contradict the pursuit of pleasure. Yet, Derek believes otherwise. “It’s kind of like this education,” he explains. Opening the doors for a compelling way to party, Kaput ushers an audience interested in dancing as much as they are in the creative composition of every set. 

By redefining the rave as a site where culture and art can intersect, Kaput reimagines the Manila rave scene as its own form of community, where people can unburden themselves from the pressure for performance. Both Derek and Kaput are challenging the long-term direction of nightlife and addressing a dissatisfaction party regulars like Caitlyn have felt for a long time.

As Derek notes, the idea of an audio-visual rave is not new to other countries; however, it is still finding its place among the traditional bars and clubs in Manila. As it seeks to reach a new audience, Derek continues to revisit the core purpose of Kaput. It has been, and will continue to be, a community where creatives and attendees who are eager to learn about music and art can come to find themselves.

 “I see how the word ‘queer spaces’ is thrown around to describe things that foster gay culture, but I feel that Kaput was actually the first place I went to that showed me queer spaces do exist,” says Felix, who believes that in a highly religious and conservative country like the Philippines, the notion of audio-visual dance parties may be all too perplexing. Existing somewhere between the art gallery, the music festival, and the traditional rave, Kaput calls to those interested in experiencing all three. 

At the end of the night, Kaput leaves Makati Central Square Cinema like it has many times before: without a trace. Any mistakes, performances, and pleasure will remain a memory to attendees awaiting Kaput’s next adventure.