Miko Reyes

BY ANNICKA B. KOTEH

MIKO REYES (4 BS CTM) moves fast. That much is easy to guess from his earnest energy—what he apologizes for as “rambling” speech—and even easier to understand from his story.

Though he had already been into photography and Instagram, Miko first edited a video when he was working on a project for his Filipino class. That was in his senior year of high school. In the long summer before college, he binged videography tutorials and went out to film “everything and anything,” including his friends’ dance videos. And by the time he was an Ateneo freshman, Miko already found himself shooting for the Company of Ateneo Dancers (CADs) and entertaining his first freelance gigs.

Fast forward

Yet this idea of speed only scratches the surface. Miko’s eye for motion comes from a lifelong familiarity with the concept. He danced with Ateneo High School’s troupe Indayog ng Atenistang Kabataan (IndAK) before ever meeting CADsters. But the hectic training from those days tired him out, and videography seemed like the best new hobby. Luckily, even if Miko misses dancing “a whole lot,” his work for the org marries both interests.

“I didn’t even have to give up dance,” he says. “Because this way, at least I make dance videos. I’m not exactly dancing, but it’s still close to my heart.”

His passion shows on camera. Though Miko hasn’t committed to a trademark style yet, he does acknowledge how his videos are built on movement. “There’s always gonna be some dance or dynamic in there,” he explains. “I’m always going to incorporate that somehow, either straightforwardly or metaphorically.” And his highlight reel reveals just that. Whether it’s the slow curl of cigarette smoke in Kremesoda’s Talk (2018) music video, a dancer lifting her arms to a soaring airplane, or the bustling streets of city nightlife—every frame is deliberately, unmistakably kinetic.

For the first two years of his college life, Miko also pursued videography in a kinetic frenzy. A lot of it was a learning curve that he’s thankful for: Mentors inside and outside CADs who would readily share gigs and tips to those starting out. But the other side was a road to burnout. After his first freelance video for a senior’s business, the projects kept on coming, and Miko got caught in the rush. “I thought I really needed to be the best so I could match up to my mentors... [Then] I finally felt my first real burnout when I took on too many things I couldn’t actually handle,” he recalls.

This turned out to be a much-needed reality check. “I thought that if this is all for like, the name or the money,” Miko continues. “Then I should stop now— because I’m always gonna end up in this same spot, where I’m just tired and not enjoying it.”

Next shot

It’s not all smooth sailing. Miko’s love for the craft can still get the better of him—but only because he constantly craves the rush of creation. “But the best part [of my work] totally defeats the burnout like, man, like I would not give it up for anything, ” he explains. “Just creating something that I thought of, the translation, the feeling you get by doing that, it’s amazing.”

Beyond even dance or music videos, Miko hopes to translate important narratives into film. He looks back on his project for The Dream Coffee, a homegrown brand of single-origin coffee from the T’boli tribe. Miko was flown to South Cotabato, where he spent three nights listening to the farmers themselves. This was Miko’s favorite gig—it gave him the chance to present Mindanao as more than “a war zone,” and to instead feature the day-to-day experiences of a misunderstood community.

“I love telling people’s stories,” he says. “Especially those who have so much potential, but don’t have the means to reach out and tell their own.”

Down the line, Miko dreams of being sent to more places to discover more angles on life. Working for National Geographic has always been his pipe dream. But he wouldn’t be Miko if he just moved in one direction. In the meantime, he plans to freelance as a videographer, maybe train as a barista on the side, and build his newfound DJ-ing skills. He’ll take just about anything on—not for the fame, but for the fun and fulfillment of making great art.

“It’s nice to know that people actually appreciate [my work],” Miko admits. “[But] it’s just a huge add-on because I already love what I’m doing.” And really, that’s all he needs to keep the reels rolling. Miko