Breathing and blogging again

From a blog I often visit comes this reminder:

"A blog is like a fog of breath on a mirror: yesterday’s brilliant utterance cannot make up for today’s sudden silence. If you want to stay alive, you have to keep breathing, and if you want to keep blogging, you have to keep writing. There is no resting on your laurels in this business: as a blogger, you’re only as good as your last post just as a body is only as alive as its most recent breath." Those are the words of Lorianne DiSabato.

Her entry for Jan. 11 this year marks her 12th anniversary in blogging. The figure "12" was enough to shake me awake from my temporary stupor. Yes, I did take a quick, three-day break from blogging so I could simplify and breathe. "Simplify and Breathe" is another blog by Rhissa Garcellano that I follow, primarily because I have an incurable sweet tooth and so has she.

With my breathing space I had time to review the photos that I haven't shared here. I found some from last year's Kasibulan anniversary art exhibit at the Ateneo Library of Women's Writings (ALIWW). Kasibulan is the acronym for the women's art collective called in full Kababaihan Sa Sining at Bagong Sibol Na Kamalayan. I count feminist artists I look up to like my former teacher in modern art Brenda Fajardo and Imelda Cajipe Endaya as among the founding members.

This exercise makes me feel like a teabag getting infused and coming alive in the warm water of women's art.

Ces Nuñez's soft marionettes that depict a Panay Bukidnon epic

"Jose Garcia Villa," terracotta sculpture by Julie Lluch

Sandra B. Torrijos' "Third Eye," acrylic on wood

"Green Orchid" by Anna Fer, watercolor on paper

Brenda V. Fajardo's acrylic work "Karapatang Pantado ng Kababaihan"

"Babae," oil on paper by Imelda Cajipe Endaya

"More Beautiful Now with Gold," oil on canvas by Yasmin Almonte

"The Living, Growing Circle of Women" by Lia Torralba, acrylic on canvas

"Kasibulan" by Brenda Fajardo, ink on paper Photos by Babeth Lolarga

The pure and valiant of heart in Imelda Cajipe Endaya | Vera Files

The pure and valiant of heart in Imelda Cajipe Endaya | Vera Files

A refreshing art space in Laguna

From left:"Alamat ng Saging" and "Alamat ng Bayabas" 
by Brenda V. Fajardo; "Walang Llihim" by Imelda Cajipe-Endaya

Nineveh Artspace, the first and only art gallery in the capital town of Santa Cruz, Laguna, and the biggest in the province, comes as a breath of fresh air for the Manila-based visitor, especially on exhibition opening day. There is none of that cocktail-party artifice where one tries valiantly to view the works while maintaining a decent conversation and balancing a small plate of finger food on one hand.

Untitled sculptures from Paete Laguna; 
in the background, "Uniporme" by Jaypee Samson

At Nineveh, expect a mini barrio fiesta with similar performances from local choirs or dance troupes to keep the familiarity levels up. Food unique to Laguna is served like kalamay sa talulo, especially made in the town of Cavinti, mo-le (actually deep-fried balls of banana heart), akin to kare-kare  and ordered from Pila native Joe Lat, vegetable dishes and miki-bihon pancit.

These touches reflect the down-to-earth personality of Louie Sevilla, the moving force  behind the art space. Apart from teaching Philippine history, art appreciation and the Rizal course at St. Peter’s College Seminary in San Pablo City, he writes and directs plays, the most significant of which are variations of the senakulo (plays on the passion and death of Jesus Christ).

"Blind Item Series #4" by Brave Singh

He opened his home and made it part of the country’s gallery circuit “at a time when I was collecting artworks like mad and wanted to share this passion with others,” he says.

In bringing art to his residence, Sevilla says his friends tell him “it’s a joy to visit it every now and then because there’s something different each time.”

He was partly inspired by The Second Gallery in Angono, Rizal, owned by Totong Francisco who turned his garage into a display area, by a sampling of what gallery work is like when a set of paintings was loaned to him for a move-over show and by an opportunity to exhibit 13 Artist awardee Noel Soler Cuizon’s new works.

Clockwise: "Sa Akin ang Lahat" by Jeho Bitancor; "Sakada" by Nunelucio Alavarado 

and "Mnemosyne" by Noel Soler Cuizon

 Cuizon's show did it for Sevilla. By November 2003, Nineveh, a biblical name to mean both “root” and “dwelling,” opened its first solo and has since built up a track record of putting up at least seven simultaneous shows three to four times a year, or 21 shows yearly.

What sets Nineveh apart from other galleries in the country is the volume and variety of works, its big backroom and a nature space that is home to a number of plants and animals.

Sevilla says: “While we do have some artists who, by regularly exhibiting with us, have become identified with us, we don’t opt for exclusivity. We have encouraged many young artists to exhibit here, with some having their first solo here.”

The place has seven exhibition spaces with sizes suitable for a modest solo show to a bigger space for group shows.  Sevilla says: “If we were to accommodate two outdoor shows for outdoor sculptures, for instance, and allot one gallery space for two exhibits, there would be room for 10 simultaneous shows!”

"Banal na Aso" by Julius Samson

"Tanghalian" by Bernard  A. Vista

He chooses exhibiting artists whose works he appreciates and feels should be recognized by a wider audience. He examines works for the excellence in craftsmanship and the idea or philosophy being put across by the artist.

Sevilla quotes a departed friend, Bobi Valenzuela, who once said: “If a work moves you, then it’s good.”

This year, he upped the ante by also setting aside a room for the works of 13 Artists awardees, explaining, “While Nineveh would like to encourage young unknown artists, we need to show the works of recognized artists because these are what draw art aficionados to patronize the gallery. Moreover, exhibitions featuring the works of 13 Artists serve as models of excellence for beginning artists and the viewing public. Any one show has a mix of renowned and unknown artists. We invite students from elementary to collegiate levels to visit our exhibits to upgrade their knowledge of and taste in Filipino art.”

 From left: "Tured" and "Manag Ba-bain" by Brave Singh

Sevilla suggests these other spots to put in one’s Laguna cultural itinerary good for a weekend: Pila, a heritage town that is a perfect example of the Spanish colonial setup and renowned for its preserved turn-of-the-century houses; Lumban for its barong; Paete for sculptures and paper mache; Pakil for its church and the Danilo Dalena museum; the liturgical museum in Liliw; and the Underground Cemetery in Nagcarlan.

With this entire month dubbed as “La Laguna,” an arts and culture festival, it’s a good time to head south. Nineveh Artspace is at 2452 1st Avenue Villa Silangan Subdivision, Santa Cruz, Laguna.--Text and photos by Elizabeth Lolarga

First published in Vera Files/Yahoo Philippines, April 21, 2012. The current exhibits are on view until April 30.

At Nineveh Artspace in April

            Nineveh Artspace in Laguna welcomes Easter with several shows, the most significant one gathering Charlie Co, Imelda Cajipe-Endaya, Alfredo Esquillo, Jr., Brenda Fajardo, Emmanuel Garibay, Renato Habulan, Don Salubayba, Jaypee Samson and other CCP 13 Artists Awardees in “Tagpuan: Taa.” Nineveh is at 2452 1st Ave., Villa Silangan, Sta. Cruz, Laguna.

            The six other exhibits are: “Traslacion” by the brothers Samson: Jerson, Julius, Pogs and Jaypee; “Kinatao” by Jeminic Real and Brave Singh; “Dos Mil Dose” by Elmer Roslin; “A Baby Changes Everything” by Babeth Lolarga; “Doon Po Sa Amin” by Bernard Vista; and “Engkwentro,” new works of seven young artists. All shows, which run until April 30, are curated by Noel Soler Cuizon. Below are some of the works to be exhibited.

"Walang Lihim," acrylic and lace collage on canvas by Imelda Cajipe Endaya

 "Bloodlines #43," mixed media by Don Salubayba

"Three Pinocchios Riding the Eco-car," oil on canvas by Charlie Co

 "Batang Deboto," oil on canvas by Jaypee Samson

 

Portrait of an Artist as Citizen, Not Romantic Recluse

The adjective “Imeldific” connotes over-the-top extravagance and a graspingly ambitious, opulent lifestyle. It derives its origin from the fallen cultural czarina and former First Lady Imelda R. Marcos.
Among the dedicated cultural workers in the Philippines, there is another Imelda they respect—one whose slim, wraith-like figure belies an able leader capable of “graciously bring(ing) people  into her orbit of creative energy without fear of being outshone or diminished,” as described by art studies professor Eileen Legaspi Ramirez.

At long last, Imelda Cajipe Endaya, visual artist, curator, writer and organizer, is receiving an overdue appreciation. The University of the Philippines Press recently launched the anthology of essays “Alter/(n)ations: The Art of Imelda Cajipe Endaya,” edited by Flaudette May V. Datuin, simultaneous with a mini-retrospective of her works at Liongoren Gallery, 111 New York Street, Cubao, Quezon City.

While the exhibit tracks her development from a printmaker to painter to mixed media, installation and collage artist, the book divides her life and career into frames not unlike the windows Cajipe Endaya used in past works as a metaphor for the world out there encroaching on a housebound woman or a marginalized person.

Editor Datuin calls these framing devices “patchwork,” the way “the artist mends, scissors and shapes patches of cloth…from her life;” “artwork,” the way she eliminated the line demarcating lowly domestic crafts like crochet and papier mache from fine arts; and “worldwork,” where her democratic tendencies have made her sensitive to the plight of migrant Filipinos, especially domestic helpers, and enabled her to depict their struggle for dignity in a globalizing world in such a compelling visual language.

Art critic Alice G. Guillermo credited Cajipe Endaya for being “at the forefront of breaking down long-held artistic prejudices” through her use of women’s traditional materials in a contemporary way. In “Musmos” for example, a 1990 work included in the Liongoren Gallery show, the artist paints the face of a girl smiling at an imaginary procession of food and toys although her plate is empty, a sign of hunger and want.

In her piece “My Mother and I,” Indira, Imelda’s daughter and multimedia artist, remembers a childhood of “no Barbies and no junk food.” She was taught “not to be afraid to be untidy and get one’s hands dirty.” This had a liberating effect on the younger woman as it showed her that “creating art and rearing children had neither separate hours nor clearly define breaks…strict borders never existed at home. The whole house was a studio with mounted canvases that would stretch across the entire dining area floor.”

Because anything and everything could serve as materials and stimuli for Cajipe Endaya’s art, Indira realized that “perhaps my mother’s art was a reaction to the times, as much as a reaction to society, domesticity and gender roles.”

She was often asked how it felt to be an artist’s daughter. Indira’s invariable reply was: “Not too different from being the daughter of a dentist or a housewife or a grocer.In reality though, I must admit that life was a tinge more experimental, nationalist, nonconsumerist and nonconformist.”

As Imelda went on to chalk up solo shows, international exposure and awards, Indira observed that her mother never became “self-conscious about being an ‘artiste’ and never had airs or a sense of entitlement.It was pure love of the work, just being professional.”

This “unflappable, low-key presence,” as another essayist, Cherubim A. Quizon, put it, made Cajipe Endaya effective as one of the founders of Kasibulan, a collective of women visual artists. Fellow founder and art educator Brenda Fajardo wrote that through Kasibulan, Cajipe Endaya was able to seamlessly weave the personal and the political. Through various fora and exhibits, Kasibulan has brought women artists closer and raised public awareness of such issues on gender biases and migrant women workers.

Because it is part of this artist’s character to not “sit idly by and merely allow institutions and cultural agents to open up her notions of empowerment,” Legaspi Ramirez has seen how Cajipe Endaya’s cultural initiatives have borne good fruits. Among these are Pananaw: Philippine Journal of Visual Arts that has widened the scope of art reporting and documentation to include the regions and provinces, Sung-duan, a national visual arts exhibition, the traveling exhibition-forum Who Owns Women’s Bodies? and Densities: Making Sense of Dense Cities, a large thought-provoking exhibition that tackled issues of heritage, shelter, power and environment.

Neferti Xina M. Tadiar’s “On Becoming Human” takes off from Cajipe Endaya’s installations on the theme of dehumanization of domestic helpers and the promise of hope. She called Filipino women like the artist as “potentially angels of technology descended onto earth, guardians of the antiquated arts of making life.”

‘Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady’: The Story Behind the Painting

Sometime in February this year, my youngest of four sisters, Gigi Lolarga (poker nut to me, Eugenia Celerina D. Lolarga in her birth certificate), asked me, her ate, what my birthday gift was for her. Normally, I’d pull something out of my thin wallet. But that day, all I could promise her was a portrait of Bruno Lolarga, her “son.”

The image of the playful pug Brunski stayed in my mind like an old refrain, so to speak. When friends like Brenda V. Fajardo, my former professor in modern art in the mid-1970s (gosh, this really dates me) fell seriously ill followed by Rey Rimando, math prof at UP Baguio and my children’s math tutor who made them less fearful of numbers (his aneurysm struck on Valentine week) and Noel Cuizon (a nephew of Brenda’s, by the way), there was no way my earnings as a freelance writer would contribute anything of significance to the cost of their operations, recuperation, follow-up with medical specialists, rehabilitation, etc.

By this time I was keeping mind, breaking heart and sometimes unsteady hands busy by painting in preparation for a solo show at Taumbayan bar-bistro.

I texted my exhibit proposal to Joel Saracho, former colleague from Manila Standard days and manager-partner of the bar, who was on a video shoot in Bukidnon, but he managed to reply, “That’s so Taumbayan,” meaning he approved of my contrasting blings with canned goods and instant noodles.

Summer of last year, he invited me to exhibit there when it was just a few months old. Since then, the place has been a night owl’s hub for the theater and television people who keep odd (a.k.a. vampire ) hours. I felt right at home that first time there with Gou de Jesus and Ernie Enriquez.

Someone was having a birthday then—Augie Rivera, if my blinking memory is working right. We were complete strangers to one another but were quickly introduced. Like any hospitable birthday celebrator, he asked me to partake of his feast. Un-shy when faced with a rectangular slab of Estrel’s caramel cake, I cut a generous slice complete with rosebud-shaped icing. Talk of feel at home. I always like to use William Saroyan’s title for his book “My Kind of Crazy, Wonderful People” in situations like this.

To shorten this narration, one day in March this year I posted a picture of Bruno on my Facebook profile and stated that I intended to paint a portrait of him paired with a snooty señorita. The images of him with a lady were up there, still vague. Actor Frances Makil Ignacio, Nitz to those who know her, volunteered in her comment to be the model. I asked permission if I could scour her photos posted in her profile to guide me.

I zeroed in on Frances in a black and white polka dotted dress, which turned out to be her costume for her role as Lucy Brown in “Threepenny Opera” by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Well, as Ka Universe (Gilda Cordero Fernando) likes to say, the universe has a way of stitching things together. Even Gou, freelance writer-editor by day, occasional jazz singer by night, gave the bright suggestion of singing our friends to health. An art auction with songs to up the bids--brilliant, Gou!

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think in my regular format of 16” x 20” anymore. This tribute to Bruno, his master Gigi, Frances, etc. had to be BIG to be worth anything if it were to be auctioned off to benefit the sick. So I thought big: four feet by four feet canvas on board. My private art teacher Norman Chow had to repeat the request to ensure he was reading his SMS right. Yes, I texted back, four feet by four feet and make it an order for two canvases.

“Stormy Norman,” our private nickname for him, had his carpenter in Baguio execute the specs up to the stretching and priming of canvases. With paint and brushes ready and the managing of minor assorted household crises in Baguio and Pasig not bothering me any longer, I applied myself the way my other teacher, Jerry Araos, told me how at the greenhouse of Oscar and Toottee Pacis in Happy Homes.

Norman guided me all the way, recruiting his son Chino, a computer science major who paints on the side, to help. Chino was a study in coolness while Norman and I mismatched colors, hues and tints, he scratching his bald head, me scratching what was left of my head of hair. On learning that Chino was the third pair of hands in the endeavor, Toottee, who was then in Manila attending a valedictorian grandchild’s graduation, texted: “I hope Chino knows what he’s in for.”

We will see what we’re all in for when “Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady” goes up for auction at an opening bid of P8,000 early this evening, April 9, at Taumbayan, 40 T. Gener and K-1 streets, Kamuning, Quezon City.

Belated happy birthday, baby sis Gi. Sorry the painting of Bruno will find a new owner. Just the same, the real deal will always be with us.

Photo of re-tooled, revised "Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady" by LIWA ARAOS, exhibit curator

Brenda Fajardo's Brillig Day

When you’ve got Johnny Depp as reward waiting towards the close of a busy day, anything that happens between breakfast and 4 p.m. is tolerable—even a moment of grief.

Yesterday began with a side trip to the 50-year-old Lopez Museum at Benpres Bldg. on Tektite Road to purchase its commemorative book for the bibliophile waiting in Baguio. While the cab drove in circles as I made my purchase, there was a window of time to text some friends who had been giving me updates on the condition of our ailing friend and professor, Brenda Fajardo.

La Gaga, a reference to one of Brenda’s major paintings using a Pinoy Tarot card series and also a fond nickname for her, is still being prepped for a major surgery, a heart bypass, and a fund-raising dinner for her cause has been scheduled by tireless and younger colleague at the University of the Philippines Department of Art Studies, Eloi Hernandez. Going around Facebook is this appeal:

“Brenda Fajardo recently had an angiogram which revealed four blocked arteries. She will need a bypass operation as soon as possible and if everything is in order, it will happen in the last week of March. The recent advice from her doctors in Cardinal Santos Medical Center approximates that she must prepare between P300,000 - P500,000 for the operation, even if she will be accommodated as a charity case. Additionally, 30 units of blood will be needed during the operation (which translates into 30 donors).

"Brenda has approved of the following fund-raising efforts:

"1. Check or cash donation can be given at the UP Department of Art Studies through Cecille de la Paz (delapazcecilia@gmail.com) and Cherryl Navida (che_navida@yahoo.com).

"2. Straight donation to her bank account at BPI Kamuning branch (SA# 3146 1400 63), account name is Brenda V. Fajardo. For monitoring purposes, e-mail Eloi at eloindigoart@gmail.com the amount of your deposit and date of transaction.

"3. Buy Brenda’s work at Tin-aw Gallery through Dawn Atienza or email: info@tin-aw.com

"4. Dinner for the Heart of “Ang Gaga” on March 16 at 7 p.m. at the Upper East Restaurant in Makati City, P5,000 per plate. More information will be forthcoming in the next few days through Eloi, but if you have questions, you may contact her at 0918-908-8224.


"5. For blood donations, contact Eloi or Mary Joan Fajardo ( tel. no. 721-0091) to coordinate with the hospital that you are donating blood in her name. Brenda ‘s blood type is B+, but anyone can donate as long as you are cleared by the hospital.


"Brenda has given a major portion of her life in serving the Department, the College and UP with great dedication as artist, educator and administrator. She has tirelessly dedicated decades in educating, organizing and serving the visual arts community through various organizations such as Kasibulan, Philippine Art Educators Association, PETA, CCP, NCCA and BAGLAN. I hope the visual arts community can rally support for Brenda in whatever way possible."


I knew Brenda was temporarily bed-ridden, but nothing prepared me for the emaciated, frail being who greeted me with a voice coming from a distant place when I opened the curtain separating her from other ward beds.

She had been my teacher in an advanced humanities course, an elective I took in the 1970s. It was Modern Art, a memorable class where I “played” with the likes of Ana Crisostomo (now Sobrepeña) and Lina Castrence. Lina used to bring her toddler son along to class who’d parade up and down the classroom aisle stark naked, and Brenda continued with her lecture, not at all distracted.

We have friends in common so I’ve sometimes joined them in their trips to her Rolling Hills subdivision home in Quezon City where she’d host a merienda buffet , then complain, “You know, my current weight is 180 pounds. Should I work to hit 200 which is closer or start losing? Hirap na ako tumindig nang matagal.”

Even with the extra weight, she carried herself with elan, wearing flowing skirts that look more like the native tapis and loose blouses that guaranteed she stayed cool. And cool chick she was for I had never seen Brenda flare up nor speak meanly of anyone.

That’s why after my brief visit yesterday, I rushed out and headed for the canteen where I felt comfortable enough to weep openly among strangers, weep for what once was.

Surely, Brenda deserves more.

Photo shows Brenda's work, "Baraha ng Buhay Filipino," courtesy of Tala Gallery.