Who gets to be a National Artist?
The lasting love of the Filipino people proves a simple truth: an artist does not need a government medal to be a true national treasure.

The lasting love of the Filipino people proves a simple truth: an artist does not need a government medal to be a true national treasure.



So 10 new National Artists were recently named, but some questions came up louder than the praises. Why is Dolphy still not on the list? How could Vilma Santos be left out? Why are international icons like Lea Salonga and Cecile Licad missing?
These questions reveal an intriguing gap between public affection and official recognition. An artist may be a household name, shape generations of Filipino culture, and achieve international acclaim — and still not carry the title of National Artist.
That does not necessarily mean the artist has been overlooked. It may mean that the Order of the National Artist award measures artistic achievement through a particular set of standards, while the public measures greatness in an entirely different way.
The National Artist award is not a popularity contest or a lifetime achievement prize. It is managed by two main groups: the National Commission for Culture and the Arts and the Cultural Center of the Philippines.
They administer a formal selection process involving nominations, evaluation, and deliberations by panels of experts. The criteria and procedures matter because they determine what kinds of achievements are ultimately recognized.
The people who vote are mostly art critics, scholars, and older National Artists. They usually prefer “high art” — creators who started a new style or changed how art is studied in schools.
This system often leaves out “superstars” who are loved by ordinary people. A great example is the “King of Comedy.” For over 60 years, Dolphy made millions of Filipinos laugh and he represented the struggles of the working class.
Yet, when he was alive, some critics argued that comedy was commercial entertainment and did not “elevate” Philippine cinema.
This shows a great divide in the art world: schools and institutions often dismiss the significance of popular entertainment, even if it defines the everyday lives of regular citizens.
The selection process itself is also a major roadblock. The award uses a bottom-up system. A President cannot just pick a winner, and the public cannot vote. An artist must be formally nominated by an official school or art group, which has to submit giant binders of paperwork tracking everything the artist ever made and did.
Then, the candidate must pass three separate rounds of secret voting by different panels of experts. If an artist does not have a dedicated team pushing their paperwork forward, or if a few critics quietly vote against them, their name will never make it to the final list.
Political dramas in the past have also had an effect on the award.
In 2009, there was a big controversy when President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo went beyond the official committee choices and added four people to the list using her presidential prerogative. This political move angered the local art community, leading to a major Supreme Court lawsuit that froze the awards for years.
In 2014, President Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino’s decision to remove Nora Aunor despite her recommendation by art bodies caused a great furor.
In the interim, legends like Dolphy passed away. Even though the award can be given to artists who have died, the committee often struggles to choose between honoring the dead and giving the award to living, elderly artists before it is too late.
Finally, there is a conflict between local impact and international fame. This paradox is highly obvious when looking at icons like Lea Salonga and classical pianist Cecile Licad.
Licad made music history as the first Filipino to win the prestigious Leventritt Gold Medal in New York. Meanwhile, Salonga just made global history anew, just this month, when she received a star on the legendary Hollywood Walk of Fame. The public has loudly pointed out that Salonga has achieved immortal global status, still she has not been honored as a National Artist back home.
This is also likely because the award rules focus heavily on how an artist’s work directly builds up the local community. While massive international milestones are impressive, the judges often prioritize artists who remained in the Philippines to build domestic art programs and teach local students.
In the end, the fact that popular icons are missing shows a disconnect between official awards and real life.
The government judges art by academic rules and technical innovation. The public judges art by how it makes them feel and how long they remember it.
While the official award machine is slow and complicated, the lasting love of the Filipino people proves a simple truth: an artist does not need a government medal to be a true national treasure.
Perhaps this is the real paradox of national art: governments can confer a title, but only generations can decide who becomes unforgettable.