My heart's desires

A delivery guy on motorcycle honked his horn, and Rolly and I looked out the window to check if the package was meant for us or the next-door neighbor. It was for us, specifically me. When he brought up the LBC page, he announced that it was from Joseph Uy and predicted that among the contents is a fountain pen. I tried to raise my EQ a bit by delaying the opening of the thing and concentrated on the final touches on the first draft of a chapter going into a book. But I couldn't bear the wait any longer, and I ripped off the packaging, including the gift wrapper with musical notes as print. Came the unboxing of the smallest gift--a Faber-Castell pen--that brought to mind all the music artists and friends whom Joseph "pen-abled" from sopranos Camille Lopez Molina and Myramae T. Meneses to pianists Gema Gonzales and Gabriel Allan Ferros Paguirigan. Our world became richer with the gliding of our pens on paper. Speaking of paper, the second box revealed a small journal with the brand Chocolatier and the bookmark that read: "Life with chocolate. Comfort life with joy and peace." The last was a Rhodia notepad made of ivory high grade vellum paper, just perfect for my handwritten letters and for doodles along the margins. Thank you, Joseph, from Baguio to your home on the border of Pasig and Cainta. I'm not joking when I say that you sometimes are like God--you give my heart's desires.

Sunday feels

As soon as I saw the Facebook announcement that Robert Alejandro was going to conduct an online drawing class, I prepared my Mercury Drugstore journal and Pilot Hi-tecpoint V10Grip for the purpose of being a student before the master again.

Our teacher's pacing was just right so this always newbie-at-things was able to catch up. I didn't feel conscious, unlike in Fine Arts school when we would do live drawing in class and I felt the most inferior to classmates who had been doodling since they were in diapers.

Here are the results of my first drawing class with Master Robert. Photos were taken by my sister Ellen Suzy Lolarga, my companion every time I'd go to the Medical City for physical therapy and rehab of my new knee.

Interesting thing about the just concluded class: I didn't notice the pain of my stitches because I was fully concentrated on letting the lines flow.

Thank you, Robert, for sharing your enormous gifts. God continue to bless you more! And yes, anyone can draw.

Meanwhile, tada!!!

Tuldok the dinosaur

Patty the Pangolin. I failed to add the baby pangolin on its back because I had to go to the toilet mid-lesson.

Pablo Tariman, Joseph Uy, here we are all dressed for the audience-less opera veerus.

Carmencita Sipin Aspiras and the art of the piano

Cover of Carmencita "Chita" Aspiras' CD

We've been pen pals since 2015, my Ate Chita and I. Handwritten missives have crossed the Pacific Ocean from my Pasig mailing addy to her home in Fremont, California, and back. Our professional relationship started when I was asked to edit her memoir "At the Piano and Beyond" which is scheduled for a second printing.

I get a rush whenever I see her familiar handwriting on an envelop. Her penmanship has a distinctive quiver which she attributes to what her doctors call "basic tremors." It is not Parkinson's disease. It is just basic tremors that may be due to the body's decline.

She assures me that the tremors haven't affected her piano playing in the least bit or her ability to memorize lengthy pieces. On the contrary, at every homecoming recital, usually organized by the Cultural Arts Events Organizer (CAEO) made up of Al Andres and Joseph Uy, she gets better and astonishes new and old audiences with her capacity to give the music Masters their due. And that rich, sonorous sound she coaxes from her instrument can only come from her; she has a unique way of attacking the keys.

She is one of those musicians for whom retirement is an insipid word. In her recently released CD of piano works by Rachmaninoff-Kocsis, Schubert and Brahms, the biographical note on her has her saying when she would retire from public performance and piano pedagogy: "I remain a student who continues to learn. Music is an eternal world of beauty, too vast to explore."

In her interview with young writer Joyce Tan, also found in the CD liner notes, Ate Chita continues to talk about the transcendence of music: "No other chore or activity can transport someone into the spiritual realm."

Congratulations to all the people behind the CD project, especially the HSTL Foundation for the Piano for producing it in line with its mission to promote and maintain "the Filipino public's interest in the art of the piano."

With Ate Chita Aspiras at Sunshine Place in Makati where she held a masterclass for piano majors and graduates last year

Cursively yours

The artist Abbey Sy just reminded me through her latest post that it's #nationalhandwritingday .

In grade school at St. Paul College of Quezon City, Penmanship with a tall "P" was a required but minor subject. An older cousin and my godmother Jane Pearl Server Banzhaf, since deceased, remarkably retained the light and dark strokes that were the hallmark of Paulinian penmanship right through her 60s.

A page from a 2017 diary

In the course of conducting interviews as a journalist, I lost those strokes while doing my own shorthand. I keep a diary, but most times I'm also in a great rush to finish the day's entry. The results are all the words, phrases and sentences are rendered in one even heavy stroke.

But I have a high regard for people who still do cursive and have not totally succumbed to the conveniences of the digital age.

Julie Miller, a historian in the Library of Congress Manuscript Division, and Victoria Van Hyning, a senior innovation specialist in the division, wrote that "the digital age has transformed us from people who read and write by hand to people who type and read on a screen, from letter-writers to emailers, texters and tweeters."

See link here: https://blogs.loc.gov/loc/2019/01/crowdsourcing-helps-to-unlock-the-mystery-of-cursive/?loclr=twloc

I still consider myself fortunate than those much younger than I am because I went through the phases of learning the proper Paulinian way of shaping the alphabet from capital "A" to small "a" all the way to "Z" from Grades One to Four. The lessons are not lost on me, Sisters Gemma, Scholastica, Richard and Eugenie!

If one loves to hand-write stuff, the next obvious things one loves, and can get attached to, are random pieces of paper, cards, postcards, notebooks and yes, I hear you, Joseph Uy, fountain pens.

Just a short hour spent with these objects to compose a life through diary-keeping and letter writing is a splash of sanity and serenity in a madding world.

Death and life in a day, plus a nightingale comes home

If it's Wednesday, the 9th of January, it must be Manila with all its traffic woes and attention on the Feast of the Black Nazarene.

My husband Rolly Fernandez and I arrive at the Cubao terminal of JoyBus at 5:30 a.m., but hustler cab drivers are ready to pounce on two senior citizens shaking off the weariness of travel. Finally, after three tries we find a cabbie willing to take us and our baggage in at only the cost of what's stated in the meter.

Dr. Florentino "Jun" Martin a.k.a. Kentucky

Where we head at that hour is for a future story. What brings us to the lowlands is the death of our brother-in-law Florentino Martin, husband to Rolly's elder sister Thelma. She and Kuya Jun, as we called the late urologist, are American citizens who had long decided to pour their savings into the Philippines by settling in Puerto Princesa City, Palawan, and building a modest hotel. Already in his 80s, KJ (shorthand for Kuya Jun) continued to practice medicine there.

Also known as Kentucky because he loved to bet at the Kentucky Derby and he practiced his profession in that state, KJ suffered a heart attack on the fourth day of the New Year. He had told relatives earlier, who had quizzed him if he had a life plan, that he wasn't all that ready to go. He wanted to die at age 94. But at age 88, his wish wasn't heeded. And so he went.

So Rolly, myself and my sister Suzy Ellen Suzanne D. Lolarga find ourselves the first visitors of Kentucky at 10 a.m. on a hectic Wednesday as he gloriously lay in state in a white coffin at the St. Alphonsus Chapel in Magallanes Village, Makati.

We say our prayers for his soul's repose quietly, and at a quarter to 3 p.m., Suzy and I take our leave to avoid the EDSA carmageddon exacerbated by the rerouting of vehicles due to the Quiapo feast.

By 4:30 p.m. friend and fellow music lover Joseph Uy is texting me, urging me to come to Oriental Pearl Kapitolyo where "tito is already waiting." Tito is Pablo Tariman, and the occasion of our reunion is a belated celebration of his 70th orbit.

Shall we call them the usual suspects as far as eating well is concerned? Here we are still awaiting our orders. Thank you for hosting, Joseph!

Joseph is just a few years younger than me, but he enjoys addressing me as his "tita." I don't know if it's because of the dust of white hair on my head or the cane I use to assist me when I stand or walk.

What I think is merienda rapidly segues to a simple lauriat dinner (no meat dish as we are groaning from it from the holidays) of birthday noodles, shrimp balls, mushrooms, cold cuts, fish fillet with veggies and Yang Chow flied lice. :-)

The stories are uncorked like bottled champagne and plans for intimate concerts in the New Year are laid.

The blogger and soprano Myramae Meneses

Joseph always has a surprise up his sleeve. A little before 6 p.m. who should walk in but soprano Myramae Tapia Meneses, back from her two years of studies at Guildhall School of Music & Drama, looking trimmer and smiling sweetly as we last remembered her.

No, she doesn't sing an aria for her Tito Pablo, but she does something better. She commits to an outreach concert in Baguio details of which will be written later when everything is ironed out, including a program that's guaranteed to make the most stoic and most hardhearted swoon in delight.

Wednesday isn't so bad. God allowed me to glimpse death (Kentucky's) and a celebration of a life (Pablo's) in a day.

May your Thursday be as meaningful!

Getting through

I have a huge pile of dry laundry to sort, fold and "deliver" to every family member's closet, but I have deferred the chore in order to write a few words. I don't want this day to go by unremembered.

At the rate dear ones are falling ill or dying on me, the time I have left has become so precious. The sense of mortality is doubly heightened.

I've become acutely aware of some kind of legacy I can leave behind. Not in material goods, goodness, no!, because I have little where those are concerned, except for anyone who'd take interest in my overused fountain pens. I hear they have resale value -- they come with legit papers, I might add, thanks to Joseph Uy.

Since the month started, I've tried to do "jottings" on this space on sundry matters from making my Mom's chicken potato salad to my husband Rolly Fernandez's hobby of collecting stamps. I don't turn up every day with something to say.

There are days like today when I'm just sifting and shoving the papers that have piled up on my desk, papers that signify the amount of work I attended to in the last 11 months. I should sort them from the useful to the useless the way I do with the dry laundry and gift myself with an uncluttered desk on Jan. 1, 2019.

The spirit is willing, but the body, suffering from holiday languor brought about by a rich diet of ham, cheese, steak, pate and the like, is dragging itself. Anyone who suggests "Exercise, Babeth! Stretch your extremities and go for walks" will be shot.

On days like this, it is best to just follow your bliss, go with the flow and succumb to the allure of another nap.

Source of illustration found here: https://www.huffpost.com/…/cartoons-for-anxiety_n_5bacd763e…

Mango magic

Mmmmmmmmango crepe as prepared by a cook who deserves to be kissed, Pablo Molina

My friend Joseph Uy and I tasted the first mangoes of summer at the Molina residence in Quezon City last week. During the days and nights leading to that Saturday lunch, Joseph and I exchanged heated text messages about how we imagined the mango crepe to be prepared by tenor-vocal coach Pablo Molina would taste in our mouth. Everyone from the Viva Voce ensemble who had tried it was raving about it and making us envious.

At one point, Joseph waxed poetic and musical and said the scent of the Grand Marnier being cooked was enough to make him hit a high C.

Our SMS conversation took a turn for the ridiculous when Joseph tried to push our trip to the Molinas to an earlier time just in case we could be served dessert first. He texted: "How about we leave at 9:30?"

"Too early," I texted back. "How about 10:30?"

We were early in the end, waiting for lunch to be served while Camille Lopez Molina wrapped up private lessons with two students. I thought Joseph was becoming gaunt from his ravenous hunger.

When the healthy Mediterranean fare was brought out from the kitchen (seafood pasta, chicken and vegetable kebabs and salad), we hungry hippos quickly dug in. I don't know how many servings we each had, but Joseph had to ask for Coke Zero to be bought at a nearby grocery so we could all burp and create some space for the crepes.

Pablo was the perfect host. He gave us extra squeezes of cream for the dessert worth crossing several cities and enduring Saturday traffic for. Thank you, Molina family! We ask only to be adopted by you.

Seafood pasta (top) and kebabs paired with yogurt. The Molina family truly knows how to eat...and by extension, live to the hilt!

Joseph Uy (top) in a satisfied and contemplative mood and top chef Pablo Molina Photos by Babeth Lolarga

Casting tensions, anxieties away in this beach house

Casting tensions, anxieties away in this beach house

Transfigured by music

I'm writing this on the last day of July, the feast day of St. Ignatius of Loyola for whom this prayer was composed:

Lord, teach me to be generous.
Teach me to serve You as You deserve;
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to ask for reward,
save that of knowing that I do Your will.

St. Ignatius of Loyola,
pray for us.

Front, back and front of the Maestro with some MSO members Photos by Kimi L. Fernandez

You can say today's blog is an offering to the ones who keep the music alive. They help us rest from our labors so we can be energized again to do the Lord's will.

If you grew up on what to others is the "fairy tale" of the Blessed Mother, St. Joseph the Worker and Jesus Christ, the poem "Verklärte Nacht" or "Transfigured Night" by German writer Richard Dehmel makes you think of the Holy Family in a big and bigger way. I don't claim knowledge of the context in which the poet wrote it.

Thano Adamopoulos, the visiting Belgian-Greek conductor who led the Manila Symphony Orchestra, particularly its string section in Arnold Schoenberg's "Verklarte Nacht," first turned around to explain to the audience the sounds we were expected to hear to express the emotions going through the protagonists in the poem.

This is a case where a poem inspired the music. My eldest child Kimi, who's into contemporary and pop music, accompanied me to this concert. She was overwhelmed (okay, impressed) by Schoenberg's music despite its initially alien sound. She said of Maestro Adamopoulos's handling of the MSO--"hindi siya pa-sundot-sundot lang". What she meant was that after we heard a mini lecture followed by the performance, by George, we got it! The music wasn't that strange anymore. It was profoundly moving and yes, as the maestro said, cinematic or almost like a film score.

And it was to me the story of Joseph, Mary and the Son of Man in her womb. The two persons in "Transfigured Night" weren't plain sweethearts. I could imagine the expression on Joseph's face as Mary revealed she was with child, and it wasn't his. He is stunned before he accepts and tells her he will raise and embrace the baby as his own. Makes the few remaining hair on my arms go up.

Transfigured Night

Two people walk through a bare, cold grove;
The moon races along with them, they look into it.
The moon races over tall oaks,
No cloud obscures the light from the sky,
Into which the black points of the boughs reach.
A woman’s voice speaks:

I’m carrying a child, and not yours,
I walk in sin beside you.
I have committed a great offense against myself.
I no longer believed I could be happy
And yet I had a strong yearning
For something to fill my life, for the joys of
Motherhood
And for duty; so I committed an effrontery,
So, shuddering, I allowed my sex
To be embraced by a strange man,
And, on top of that, I blessed myself for it.
Now life has taken its revenge:
Now I have met you, oh, you.

She walks with a clumsy gait,
She looks up; the moon is racing along.
Her dark gaze is drowned in light.
A man’s voice speaks:

May the child you conceived
Be no burden to your soul;
Just see how brightly the universe is gleaming!
There’s a glow around everything;
You are floating with me on a cold ocean,
But a special warmth flickers
From you into me, from me into you.
It will transfigure the strange man’s child.
You will bear the child for me, as if it were mine;
You have brought the glow into me,
You have made me like a child myself.

He grasps her around her ample hips.
Their breath kisses in the breeze.
Two people walk through the lofty, bright night.

Saraza both at work and at play

The second part of the concert "Heart, Strings" featured violinist Diomedes Saraza Jr. as soloist in Bizet's "Carmen," Louie Ocampo's "Kahit Isang Saglit" and Willy Cruz's "Sana'y Wala Nang Wakas." MSO Executive Director Jeffrey Solares revealed that the former prodigy was just "Babes" to the MSO when he was a kid. Radio man Bert Robledo calls him "Junjun."

By whatever name he's called the whiz kid from Juilliard School of Music treated the audience to kilig to the bones music meant for drama-ramas or teleserye. Ayos ang gabi! What a good night the 15th of July was.

Souvenir with Maestro and my friend Joseph Uy who's my private music tutor

Adventures with Sister Suzy

Our Merry Maller at the Capitol Commons Estancia something or other

Ellen Suzanne Lolarga is my number two sister (before her is Evelyn Marie or Embeng and after her are Genevieve Therese, Pinky for short, and Eugenia Celerina, just Gigi to all). I was five years old when Suzy was born.

I still remember seeing my mother going into labor. My Dad, yaya and I accompanied Mom to the University of the East-Ramon Magsaysay Medical Center. When Mom was wheeled into the delivery room on a gurney, she waved to Dad with instructions for the yaya to walk me home. That was my first memory of Su, as she was about to enter our lives.

My second memory of her was at Luneta Park in the early '60s (not Doroy Valencia's Rizal Park yet). We were near the breakwaters: Mom, the yaya, Suzy and me. I had the urge to pee. There were no portalets then. So Mom brought me to peepee by a bush, but I got bitten by ants on my buttocks, and I squealed like the piglet I can be sometimes. So Mom and yaya had to brush off the ants. Meanwhile, Suzy, a toddler by then, wandered away. When the adults realized she was amiss, it was Press the Panic Button time.

That must have been a weekend; there were just too many people (already!) then. Meanwhile, I remember being held by my hand tightly so I couldn't go astray either as Mom and yaya searched high and low for Suzy by which time, Mom being Mom, was in near hysterics. From the park we walked all the way to The Manila Hotel. It was already dark. As we approached the hotel, a car's headlights were switched on--and there was Suzy in the light, still dressed up like a doll with her bonnet and little handbag.

Whenever this story is recalled in family conversations, Gigi never fails to say that it was a sign of things to come. That is, Suzy would turn into a Merry Maller. On certain after-school days or weekends, that's what she does for exercise. Now and then she picks up a knickknack or three, most especially children's books from Book Sale that she can use for her Montessori class or to give to her grandnieces Max and Kai and grandnephew Jared.

The rest of the abubots are stashed in her aparador. Whenever there's a birthday, a wedding or similar festive occasions, she always has something ready. When we have no time to shop, we go to her and request for a suitable item when a friend or family member is having a thing (birthday or anniversary). Of course, we pay up.

Kind, gentle to all the wee ones in our lives, Suzy is shown here wiping traces of ube ice cream from Jared Susi's mouth.

This makes Suzy the perfect steward of our household budget now that Mom is retired from that. She settles the electric, phone, Wifi and water bills, does the groceries (the others contribute, too).

Every family needs a Suzy who is quiet, dependable, loves little children and lets them go to her for comfort and loving loving. And she is that silent patron of art and music, a cultural soldier, daresay I. She's gonna pinch me tonight (she's my roommate when I'm at Mom's).

Happy birth month, sis!

Suzy with tenor Arthur Espiritu, the prince of cantabile, a title given him by music reviewer Pablo Tariman, at Ayala Museum in 2013. This was at a post-Yolanda fundraising concert called "Arthur Espiritu and Friends." The other singers were sopranos Myramae Meneses and Kay Balajadia-Liggayu and tenor Nomher Nival.

Tenor Nomher Nival in a relaxed moment after "Donizetti and Friends," the last of two Opera Gala series featuring the participants in the first intensive vocal workshop/master class in the Philippines of soprano great Nelly Miricioiu Photos by Babeth Lolarga

Last Saturday (March 21), her birthday, she spent the evening with me at the Ayala Museum. Tenor Nomher Nival dedicated the penultimate number in the Opera Gala recital called Donizetti and Friends "to Suzy."

Following is the English translation of the aria, Donizetti's "Una Furtiva Lagrima," from the Italian comic opera L'Elisir d'Amore (The Elixir of Love):

A single secret tear
from her eye did spring:
as if she envied all the youths
that laughingly passed her by.
What more searching need I do?
What more searching need I do?
She loves me! Yes, she loves me, I see it. I see it.
For just an instant the beating
of her beautiful heart I could feel!
As if my sighs were hers,
and her sighs were mine!
The beating, the beating of her heart I could feel,
to merge my sighs with hers...
Heavens! Yes, I could die!
I could ask for nothing more, nothing more.
Oh, heavens! Yes, I could, I could die!
I could ask for nothing more, nothing more.
Yes, I could die! Yes, I could die of love.

Thank you, Joseph Uy and Nomher, for making Suzy happy.

When Monday meant Nelly

Boosted by a breakfast of vitamins and hopia and a late lunch of Hizon's ensaymada and hot chocolate at its main branch in Ermita, Manila, I managed to make it to EDSA Shangri-La Mandaluyong City to welcome Nelly Miricioiu.

Al Andres and Joseph Uy of Culture Arts Events Organizers, the guys behind the production "Nelly Miricioiu: Live in Manila", assigned me the role of flower girl (never been one in all of my childhood). I gladly accepted with aplomb!

I am counting the hours until I hear her voice live. I don't know if I'll ever be content again with YouTube videos or music CDs after the March 6 experience at Meralco Theater.

The virtue of being punctual is rewarded. Otherwise, Pablo Tariman would've done the honors of offering this lovely bouquet from Market! Market! to another of his soul mates, the diva Nelly. When Al clicked my camera, he said, "O, di parang nasa Panagbenga ka rin? Mas maganda pa!" I wanted to hum Ravel's "Bolero" into his ear.

Not wanting to be upstaged, Pablo rushed home earlier to shower and change costume. The extra trip home paid off. He pulled off the fresh-from-my-Caribbean-secret-hideaway look.

The hug and reunion. Ms. Nelly's cry of "Oh Pablo, oh my God!" sounded like a line from Bellini

That's Nelly's husband of over 20 years, engineer Barry Kirk, behind her while she kisses Pablo.

Flower girl's voice goes high pitched in excitement as she requests one of opera's greats to turn to the camera, please.

Ms. Nelly hugs the Teddy Bear of the music world, Joseph Uy.

In her mother country Romania, Nelly was given an honor that is equivalent to the royal title of "Dame." And a gracious dame she is. After the initial hugs and kisses, she invited everyone for a drink and said it was on her. Of course, Joseph and everyone else refused the offer. She was, after all, in the country that had enfolded her as one of its own when she left Romania during its troubled times.

Vital, animated, expressive--that's how Dame Nelly is in person.

She accepts the gifts from the flower girl: food for the body and soul--taisan cake from Hizon's and a copy of the first Philippine PEN Journal which has "healing" for its theme. My essay "The Strength of Roots or the Need for Flight?" is included in it. When she saw the word "healing" on the blue cover, she said, "I believe in these things." She told us of a hard time in her life, how she wandered into a bookstore, discovered a book on the Tantric form of healing, how it changed her and deepened her spirituality.

The clarinetist from Cavite

Clarinetist Andrew Constantino demonstrates the breathing technique he follows before he plays his instrument. He was a soloist of the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra in its "Sunsets at Makiling" concerts in May this year at the National Art Center in Makiling, Los Baños, Laguna. Photo by Babeth Lolarga

Observe how a baby breathes while asleep; its belly rises and falls in a natural rhythm. Yogis recommend to students that they relearn this rhythm. When adults are anxious or nervous, they just have to inhale, exhale deeply until they calm down. In meditation, when one’s monkey mind roams restlessly, one technique to quiet it down is to concentrate on one’s breathing.

Andrew Constantino, a clarinetist (this word can also be spelled “clarinettist”), knows how crucial diaphragmatic breathing is in playing his Yamaha woodwind instrument. Before he even practices the pieces that he studies, he stands tall, puts his hand sideways across his mouth. He inhales, holds his breath for five second before exhaling through his mouth slowly, then repeats until he has done this 10 times.

This 17-year-old freshman at the University of Santo Tomas Conservatory of Music will debut professionally on Oct. 8 at 7 p.m. at the Ayala Museum to close the Manila Chamber Orchestra Foundation’s Young Artist Series. Melissa Taqueban will be his assisting artist on the piano.

The program includes: Francis Poulenc’s “Sonata for Clarinet and Piano”; the more jazzy “Clarinet Concerto” by Aaron Copland; Robert Schumann’s “Fantasiestucke for Clarinet and Piano”; and Debussy’s “Premiere Rhapsody.” Even Joseph Uy, MCOF cultural associate and walking compendium of music info, says these pieces are difficult.

Nicknamed Drew, the lanky boy from Imus, Cavite, also keeps fit by jogging with ears plugged to classical music, particularly Mozart’s and Brahms’ Clarinet Concerto and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3. Smoking, late nights and activities that may compromise his health are no-nos. Discipline was imposed by his dad Ariel, once a clarinetist and now a baritone saxophonist who plays with the Imus Youth Symphonic Band. The band was founded by Abdoncito "Dasoy" Constantino.

The band where father and son play, by the way, can be heard every last Sunday of the month in a concert at the Imus municipality. These free concerts will go on until the end of this year.

Young Constantino was allowed to play tag with friends and cousins. But after dinner, two-hour lessons with his first teacher, his father, followed. He wasn’t a reluctant learner; he has after all been raised in a home where music was always being played. His older siblings Archie is a trumpet player of the Manila Philharmonic Orchestra, sisters Adrian, a saxophonist of the UP Woodwind Orchestra, and Alexis, a percussionist of the UP Symphony Orchestra.

At age seven, Constantino started playing the trumpet, gave it up because “mahirap ang breathing.” At eight, he turned to percussion instruments (snare and bass drums), but also gave up, finding the notes “more complicated.” At nine, he decided on the clarinet, or was it the clarinet that decided to snare him?

He says, “Whether played high or low, it is pleasant to the ears. The brightness of its sound can surprise you. It's a nice kind of surprise.”

This UST music major under the tutelage of Prof. Ariel Sta. Ana leaves his home in Cavite at 5 a.m so he can be in school by 6:30 when the hallway is still quiet. There he plays the clarinet. Because the city's pollution and traffic noise bother him, after classes he rents an air-conditioned studio, also at the university, for two hours at the rate of P10 an hour so he can concentrate on his practice. Photo by Babeth Lolarga

Playing for the Imus band and being mentored by his father helped him on the road to independence. “It's good to know somebody is helping you. However, it’s up to you if you want to pursue it, and music was what I wanted.”

There were eight music majors in all when he won a scholarship at the Philippine High School for the Arts, including pianists Matthew Calderon and Warren Garrido who’re making a name for themselves in the music world.

It was in one of the MCOF masterclasses under the famed clarinetist and teacher Marcel Luxen that Constantino was singled out. Luxen told him that he had no problem with techniques, he is able to follow tempos well. But he had to develop his musicality and interpretative side. Since then, the young man has gone to live performances and studiously watched operas on YouTube where clarinet solos can be seen or heard.

He is also reading more music-related literature. Uy says, “It’s not enough to be able to read music itself, you must know its history, background, even the life of the composer.”

Constantino has read up on Poulenc, discovering that in the second movement of “Sonata for Clarinet and Piano,” there are hints of the composer’s mother singing a lullaby to her son, telling him that he would grow up to be a great musician one day. By the third movement, Poulenc is playing with Arab children on the streets in the poor part of Paris and there is a phrase of Arab music.

The clarinetist says, “Those stories are helpful. When I play, I’m able to see these images.”

Another side of him is he composes music, writes lyrics to them and sings them himself. He has a tulawit (poem song) called "Gaano Mo Kamahal ang Sariling Wika." - Elizabeth Lolarga

His dreams may not be too far-fetched: To someday own and play a Buffet clarinet made in France and also to pass the live audition and study with Marcel Luxen at the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music Schools in Singapore. For tickets to his concert, call Ticketworld at 891-9999, the MCO Foundation at 750-0768 or 0920-954-0053 or the Cultural Arts and Events Organizer at 762-7164 or 0918-3473027. Photo courtesy of MCO Foundation

Teepee Aguilar, soprano of the hour

Teepee with her assisting artist, pianist Farley Asuncion, and her dad, architect Efren Aguilar  Photos by Babeth Lolarga

Of the adjectives that have been used to describe the voice of lyric soprano Stephanie Anne “Teepee” Aguilar, the ones that have captivated me best as listener-admirer are “creamy” and “radiant.”

More will be added to the list when we watch and listen to her again at the professional debut recital of this 2012 Jovita Fuentes Vocal Competition prize winner on Aug. 20, Wednesday, at 7 p.m. at Ayala Museum.

The Manila Chamber Orchestra Foundation (MCO) Foundation has made of the museum lobby its presenting stage for most of its concerts this year (in July, it was the renamed Lanuza Hall at the Philippine Stock Exchange bldg. in Pasig City for the memorable Mostly Mozart Festival).

And it’s also almost SOP for the MCO Foundation workhorses (executive director Angel Reyes Nacino and consultant Joseph Uy—they with the biblical names) to bring the talents for live patikim presentations at Bert Robledo’s noontime program, “Bravo Filipino,” over DZFE The Master’s Touch (that’s 98.7 on your FM dial).

For just this past Thursday’s radio program, Teepee prepared Mozart’s “Or sai chi l’onore,” Anna’s aria from Don Giovanni; Schubert’s “Gretchen Am Spinnrade”; the American spiritual “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands,” arranged by Margaret Bonds; and Nicanor Abelardo’s “Mutya ng Pasig.”

With DZFE's Bert Robledo

When he learned that she earned her first bachelor’s degree in Hotel and Restaurant Management, major in hospitality management, from the College of St. Benilde, he said in deadpan fashion (off the air), “Puwede ka ring singing  kaldero.”

She said her mother Gigi, who’s good on the piano and works as an interior designer, wanted her only child to take a college course that would reassure her of a future.

But Teepee has been singing since she was three, a soloist no less in nursery school. Her father Efren recalled how Teepee was always chosen as choir leader during her elementary and high school years at the Tabernacle of Faith Christian Academy in San Juan, Metro Manila. For a time she was choir director of The Word Community Church which holds its Sunday worship at Unilab’s Bayanihall Hall in Mandaluyong.

Until a friend invited her to the University Santos Tomas, and in 2009 she entered its Conservatory of Music. She said of that decision, “I prayed to God, telling Him singing is what I do best. Let’s see how far God will take me.” She began as part of the big chorus in Cavalleri Rusticana. Manong Bert quipped that the experience put her literally in the pits (orchestra pit).

Singing live at the DZFE studio with Farley Asuncion on the piano

Asked what makes a good opera singer, she mentioned talent and finding good teachers who would notice the talent and hone it (in her case, soprano Rachelle Gerodias in the beginning and now tenor Lemuel de la Cruz), dedication, heart  (“You’ve got to love what you’re doing, memorize different languages and blockings and making all these look flawless”), and hard work.

Again Manong Bert couldn’t help quipping that the likes of Anne Curtis have a lot of hard work to do.

Teepee’s schedule these days include studying for roles on her own (she’s appearing in the operas Noli Me Tangere and La Boheme) before turning up for rehearsals, practicing with a pianist or whoever is teaching or directing her and the others. She said she enjoys preparing for an opera because it’s “grand, colorful and always big."

She ended her hour-long interview interspersed with singing at DZFE with “He's Got the Whole World in His Hands.” Manong Bert couldn't help saying how compelling the spiritual was in the light of Robin Williams’ suicide, saying, “There’s no need to feel hopeless, no matter what you’re experiencing or going through.” - Elizabeth Lolarga

Relaxing after the interview 

For tickets to Stephanie Aguilar's concert, call TicketWorld at 891-9999, the MCO Foundation at 750-0768 or 0920-954-0053 or CAEO at 762-7164 or 0918-3473027. 

My incredible week in review

Waya Araos-Wijangco, Jerry and Melen's eldest daughter, with her niece and everyone's fave little girl, the sociable Amarra Araos Encabo

Old ties renewed: Host Doc Melen, writer Gemma Corotan-Kolb stand behind Nympha Saño, who Odette Alcantara used to call "Nymphette", and a blogger who has adopted the babushka look (coming soon, when her budget finally allows, peasant blouses)

The week of July 7 to 10 will be recorded in great detail in my personal diary as a very full one--the jingle lang ang pahinga kind of week that has taken a toll on a bum knee. The Sunday began with a visit to the Araos family, a hi and a ho to remember Jerry by. He would've been 70, a milestone year.

While I was there, Melen and youngest son Julian brought out some bubble-wrapped paintings that are bound for Florida, the US of A (not Florida Bus Lines). These were gifts to Jerry when he was hale, hearty and the biggest "encourager", after my husband Rolly, when I returned to art school. He saw to it that I would exhibit with his art guild Salakai in one of the biggest simultaneous art show events at the old SM Megamall Art Walk in May 2007 (them were the days when the SM chain of malls still had a veneer of credibility). These works haven't been exhibited; they were personal gifts to JVA's family. Now Jerry and Melen's youngest daughter Mira, who's infanticipating, will hang them in her nursery.

It just occurred to me now that these works remain untitled. So, Mira, it is with extreme pleasure that I give them the "names" they need for after all, they are the babies of my mind, heart and hands. Dear Mira, these are all the "authentication papers" you'll need.

"C Is for Crabs, C Is for the Cancer-borns" (Jerry, Mira and I are all born under the zodiac sign of Cancer.)

"Tea Time for Stones and Two Jars"

"Cubes, Ovals and a Ripe Orange"

After Jerry died, Melen said when she met my grand-daughter again two years after she delivered Kai/Butones that she hoped Amarra and Kai would become friends. This is to continue the deep ties of the Araoses and Lolargas--what Jerry had written in the past about how our families are intertwined. But due to geographical reasons, it may be Amarra and my grand-niece Machiko Skye Lolarga Susi (right) who'll hit it off. Max, as the family calls her, is, like Amarra, an Antipolo resident.

Monday, the seventh of July, was Maestro Darrell Ang day. When he arrived at NAIA the day before, Joseph Uy, consultant of the Manila Chamber Orchestra Foundation, who was there to welcome him, texted immediately: "Ma'am, Darrell is now here. He's gorgeous. You'll like him."

I texted back: "Baka naman himatayin ako!"

Joseph: "Don't worry, Ma'am, I'll catch you."

That's what I love about Joseph. He has this deadpan humor, and he doesn't add cheesy smiley emoticons on his messages the way I always do.

I had to give up a ladies' lunch (postponed for the nth time) for this coverage for Vera Files. I always am thankful for good, kind cab drivers, even the talkative ones, who bring me to my destination and back to the house without incident. I can't tip them anymore, but if there's an anti-hypoglycemia pack of sugar-free anything (mints, candies, cookies), this goes to the driver of the moment. Better than a tip because their faces light up when they say: "Mommy, solved na merienda ko." With the babushka look, they initially speak in English and ask from what country I am. Naks! I'm inclined to say Greece or Ukraine, but I don't want the discussion to get political and complicated so I quickly confess I'm Pinay and I have a pangit haircut to hide which is true. The barber (yes, barbers are cheaper than salon hair stylists) is still alive, by the way.

Group shot around Maestro Ang (seated second from right between classical music blogger Andrian Lontoc and a babushka) at the Makati Sports Club. Others in photo are Jasmine Cruz (bending left) of BusinessWorld, Baltazar Endriga, chairman of the board of the MCO Foundation, Ellen Tordesillas of VERA Files, Malaya and Abante, and Allan Pastrana, contributing writer of Philippine Daily Inquirer and a teacher at Miriam College. I told Mr. Endriga it must be nice to called Chairman of the Board like Frank Sinatra. His quick reply: "But he was Sinatra, and his friends in the Rat Pack were all millionaires! I'm not."

Tuesday I filed my story only to learn that the Vera Files site had been spammed and hacked.

Wednesday was teaching day--the first time I went to school accompanied by a yaya, my mom's. Never, not even in my nursery and kindergarten years, was I ever accompanied by a yaya to school. But this time, someone had to help me carry my students' notebooks (the equivalent of theme notebooks in my high school years), other teaching materials, my umbrella and backpack of personal stuff.

Should I also be grateful for over-frank students who ask for my exact age, what the matter was with me and if I'll be due for retirement soon because of disability? One asked, "If you're sixty by next year, will you have to go? And if you do, will they dissolve CW (creative writing)?"

My answer was diplomatic: "When the time comes for me to leave school, someone will take over. No one is indispensable in any organization."

Thursday, oh my! It was La Gilda Day, her vernissage at Silverlens Galleries in Makati, but I'll reserve a full-length account of that wild evening for another outlet. I wanna share this precious pic of funny girl Chit Roces Santos who's always Not Quite There and her babushka pal. I asked what did she come as. She said, "Masahistang bulag!" We sat together for a bit by the registration table at the entrance, and I said, "If people ask, you're my caregiver. Class ako ngayon--tisay ang yaya ko!"

Chit and blogger

Don't even talk of Friday because from the moment I woke up with my husband by my side (a rarity when I'm in Manila), I was in a go-go-go mood. His idea of a treat was to cover all meals in one blow--yes, a luncheon buffet that started at 11:30 a.m., ended at 2 p.m., 15 minutes before all the stations closed. He seemed insatiable and steadily ate through plates of sushi, sashimi, chorizos, three flavors of green ice cream, halo-halo with just the sangkap, not the ice and milk, buko pandan, mango sago, all downed with beer. I was waiting for him to turn comatose before my eyes, but it was I who got sleepy from just two plates of sushi.

What woke me up was when the waiters started singing table to table where a birthday celebrator was seated. They were a threesome: guitarist, a maracas and a tambourine player. One of them carried a portable sound system. I envied the tables that had a celebrator each so when our neighbors enjoyed the birthday song plus another pop hit, I asked if anniversaries were counted (our 30th was coming up in a few days). Yup, they "performed" anniversaries, too. A waiter proceeded to fetch this huge tarpaulin with "Happy Anniversary" writ large. When the singing started, I felt an instant shot of adrenalin. It was my cue to rise with my cane, sit on Rolly's left leg and do a lap dance. Guess who walked with a limp after? And the song we were serenaded with? "Kahit Maputi Na ang Buhok Ko!"

Old couple marking their Pearl Anniversary with a cheerful photo bomber behind them. I'm pretty sure that if I die ahead of him, Rolly will miss me acutely because of moments like this one and thus forgive my past transgressions.

Hubby and I capped date night at the Mostly Mozart 2014 Festival. Knowing what a screeching, shameless fan girl I am when the gods and goddesses descend from Music's Olympus, Rolly kindly took my photo by the grand piano with an Adonis, Maestro Darrell Ang.

As if all those activities weren't enough, I met some of my CW students yesterday, a Saturday afternoon, at the entrance of the Ayala Museum for a field trip. They not only visited the permanent diorama and the Fernando Zobel retrospective, they were present for Dr. May Jurilla's lecture-presentation on "Romancing the Book." My instruction to the kids was to listen well so they could ask one well thought out question each. In the end, only three overcame their shyness to raise their hands during the open forum.

One, two, three: Hashtag Ayala Museum!

Photos by Angel Reyes Nacino, Babeth and Suzy Lolarga, Maite de la Rosa, Rolly Fernandez and others like another restaurant customer