Marfori grew up as the youngest of three children, with two older brothers. On her father’s side, she is also the only girl among many cousins.
“Growing up surrounded by older brothers, cousins and relatives greatly shaped my perspective on womanhood and empowerment. While I was always protected and cared for, I was also encouraged to be independent, resilient, and ambitious,” she said.
Her earliest encounters with art grew out of memories of performance and creation. In time, however, she became equally fascinated by what happened behind the scenes. Costumes, props and stage design captivated her, revealing how objects themselves could carry and communicate stories.
Today, she works primarily with fabric, fiber, ceramics and jewelry — materials and adornments often associated with women’s dress. Her affinity for artisanal craftsmanship has naturally become part of her artistic language.
“I believe art has the power to create moments of pause in an increasingly fast-moving world. Much of my practice revolves around stillness — not as the absence of movement, but as a space for reflection, healing and becoming.”
A question for Malaya Clara
This philosophy came into full expression in her recent exhibition, Malaya Clara, Malaya Ka Ba?, at the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA). The project grew from a question that had occupied her for years. Drawn to Philippine history and literature, particularly the works of José Rizal, she became intrigued by Maria Clara, long portrayed as the ideal Filipina: modest, graceful, obedient and self-sacrificing.
“If I were Maria Clara, how would I truly feel? Behind the capiz windows, behind the expectations placed upon me, would I feel free? Would there be space for my own voice, choices and dreams?” she asked.
Through installations, sculptures, textiles and participatory works, Marfori examined the different stages of womanhood, self-discovery and transformation. Rather than offering a single answer, the exhibition invited viewers to reflect on their own understanding of freedom.
Perhaps this explains why audiences responded so warmly. “At some point in our lives, we have all been a version of Malaya Clara — trying to navigate who we are, who we are expected to be and who we want to become,” she said.