On several late afternoons and quiet evenings, I have found myself walking or jogging around Graciano López Jaena Park, more commonly known as Jaro Plaza. Amid the buzz of vendors, the soft rustle of trees, and the relaxed chatter of passersby, one sound disrupts the atmosphere in a way that is both subtle and problematic: music, blaring from loudspeakers, often consisting of copyrighted songs played without authorization.
At first glance, this might seem harmless. After all, what is a public plaza without background music to accompany its charm? But upon deeper reflection, this practice raises serious concerns about intellectual property rights, respect for creative labor, and cultural ethics in public governance.
To put it plainly, the use of copyrighted music in public spaces without the proper licenses or permissions is a violation of Philippine copyright law. It infringes on the rights of artists, including composers, performers, and producers, whose work is protected under Republic Act No. 8293, also known as the Intellectual Property Code of the Philippines. Among the rights granted to creators under this law is the exclusive right to public performance. This means that any use of their music in venues like parks, plazas, restaurants, or public events requires explicit permission, often facilitated through licensing organizations such as the Filipino Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers, Inc. (FILSCAP).
Sadly, awareness and enforcement of these laws remain inconsistent, especially at the local level. In Iloilo, violations are widespread, and many of our restaurants, businesses, and public venues continue to use copyrighted music freely and illegally. The case of Jaro Plaza is just one visible example of a much larger, systemic disregard for creative rights.
Just a few nights ago, around 6:00 or 7:00 in the evening, while finishing my daily 10,000-step walk, I once again overheard popular OPM (Original Pilipino Music) songs echoing through the plaza. Aside from not personally enjoying the song selection, what truly jarred me was the memory of past discussions I had with the Intellectual Property Office of the Philippines (IPOPHL), especially about copyright, ethical consumption, and how we, as a society, can better support the lifeblood of culture: our artists.
It is both ironic and tragic that this infringement is happening in a plaza named after Graciano López Jaena, a national hero and fiery orator known for his sharp critiques of colonial injustice and moral complacency. One can only imagine how he would respond to this quiet but persistent offense against Filipino creatives. Were he alive today, perhaps he would not hesitate to publicly call out, if not confront, the individuals responsible.
This is not a question of personal taste in music. It is a cultural, legal, and ethical issue. The unauthorized public performance of music is not a minor oversight. It is a form of exploitation. It undermines the value of artistic labor and sends a damaging message: that creative work, particularly that of Filipino musicians, is disposable, free for the taking, and undeserving of legal protection.
Are there exceptions to this rule? Yes, but they are narrow. Uses for educational or religious purposes may qualify under “fair use,” but casual broadcasting of copyrighted music in a plaza for general ambiance or entertainment does not fall within these exceptions. Only royalty-free music, music whose copyright has expired, or music properly licensed for public use is legally permissible.
This issue also opens a broader conversation about cultural responsibility and the role of local government units (LGUs) in modeling respect for intellectual property. Iloilo, after all, is not only a city of history but also a city of the arts, vibrant in music, literature, and visual expression. If we are serious about nurturing our local cultural ecosystem, then our city governments, starting with the custodians of spaces like Jaro Plaza, must take the lead in ensuring that public institutions uphold the rights of our artists.
In fact, this presents a unique opportunity. Instead of broadcasting mainstream Tagalog or international English songs, often detached from the cultural identity of Iloilo, why not use public spaces to amplify local voices? Promote and license komposo songs, original Hiligaynon and Kinaray-a music, and other homegrown compositions that reflect our region’s spirit. Pay local artists. Celebrate their work. Make Jaro Plaza a space of cultural pride and artistic respect.
By doing so, we do not just comply with the law. We empower our cultural workers, support the local music industry, and set a meaningful precedent for the rest of the country. This small but concrete shift can have wide-reaching effects. A song properly licensed and played in public is more than sound. It becomes a statement, declaring that Iloilo honors and protects its artists.
If we allow the continued use of unlicensed, copyrighted music in Jaro Plaza, we are not only breaking the law. We are failing our artists, and by extension, failing ourselves. It becomes a subtle form of cultural neglect, a betrayal of the very values Graciano López Jaena stood for: justice, dignity, and national integrity.
So next time I walk or jog around Jaro Plaza, I hope to hear something different. Not the familiar echoes of songs piped in illegally, but the rich, vibrant melodies of Hiligaynon or Kinaray-a music, played legally, respectfully, and with pride. Music that is not just heard, but honored.
Noel Galon de Leon is a writer and educator at University of the Philippines Visayas, where he teaches in both the Division of Professional Education and U.P. High School in Iloilo. He serves as an Executive Council Member of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts-National Committee on Literary Arts.