OLD-FASHIONED FAIRY TALE ART

By Arnaldo Bernabe Mirasol

The Little Mermaid, 2000, acrylic on paper, 10 X 12.5 inches, Mark Yap collection

Many consider my illustration for the story The Little Mermaid (above) as the best of the fairy tale illustrations I've done for the book ONCE UPON A TIME. Perhaps, Tahanan Books publisher Reni Roxas was one of them, as shown by her choice of this illustration as cover art for the book (below left).

I'm a bit baffled though, because if she found The Little Mermaid that good, why did she not bought it, and instead acquired for her collection my illustrations for the stories, The Wild Swans and The Farmer and His Wife. (below right)

The Wild Swans, 2000, acrylic on paper, 10 X 12.5 inches, Reni Roxas collection

Apart of course from the meticulous intricacy of my brushwork in The Little Mermaid, what amazed the admirers of this illustration is the composition. They were astounded by my ingenuity in coming up with that circling fishes motif in the background.






To this I say, be astounded no more, because the idea for that background wasn't original - I just copied it. I was "inspired" by David Doubilet's photo which appeared in the National Geographic Magazine, of a circling school of barracudas, at the eye or center of which is a hovering scuba diver (below left).
 

The Farmer and His Wife, 1999, acrylic on paper, 20 X 7 inches, Reni Roxas collection

Thumbelina, 2000, acrylic on paper, 10 X 12.5 inches, Mark Yap collection

The Nightingale, 2000, acrylic on paper, 10 X 12.5 inches, Dr. Manolet Delfin collection

The Emperor's New Clothes, 2000, acrylic on paper, 20 X 12.5 inches, May C. Reyes collection

Modesty aside, it would really be difficult for anyone to choose which among the illustrations in this book is best. Each one would have his own favorite. There are those who like Thumbelina, and others The Nightingale: my personal favorite though is The Emperor's New Clothes (below)





With all those praises heaped my way (which made my head swell a bit), I realized I had on hand illustrations which are all solo art exhibit material. I first showed the original illustrations to Hiraya Gallery's Didi Dee, who rejected them outright - without even saying a single word. She just smirked and shook her head. I next submitted an exhibit proposal to Araceli Salas of Gallery Genesis. I waited for weeks for news about my exhibit proposal. Nothing came. She didn't even deign to call or sent me a letter of rejection. But when I showed the illustrations to Charrie Elinzano of the Crucible Gallery, I detected a ray of hope. I felt at once that she was impressed by the artworks. She said that she'll hand over my exhibit proposal to Crucible President Sari Ortiga for his comment and approval. A few days later, Sari called to tell me that my exhibit was on. The opening was set for September 8, 2001.





















I chose Old-Fashioned Fairy Tale Art as title of my show. It was most apt because I wanted to emphasize the difference between my illustrations and the illustrations by other Filipino picture book artists at the time. Where they tend to draw modern cartoony illustrations, I patterned mine after those made by illustrators who did "classically realistic" illustrations. Gennady Spirin was a big influence. His illustrations which are mostly of earth colors impelled me to change my palette and adopt his. (below right, an illustration by Spirin)

Thumbelina by Gennady Spirin

The opening of my solo show (opening day photos below) can be described as very soft. Why soft? Well, that's because I plunged with my eyes close and with empty pockets into this solo show at the Crucible Gallery, with the result that I wasn't able to serve any refreshments to my guests. Although there was also no ribbon-cutting ceremony, I had a guest-of-honor of sorts, Ray Espinosa. He was a classmate at UST High School, batch '73. A very brilliant guy, who took up law at the Ateneo, he topped the 1982 bar exams, and is now one of Manny Pangilinan's most trusted executives.

That's myself in light blue long-sleeved shirt talking with Ray Espinosa

In this photo from left, Oca Magos, myself, and Ray Espinosa

In this photo from left, my nephew Chris San Agustin, my sons Bahgee and Kai, and Chris' elder brother Einar.

In this photo from left, front row, Oca Magos, Isko dela Cruz, and Jerry Dean

Myself (at extreme right) talking with Isko dela Cruz

Don't let the dismal atmosphere of the opening fool you, because even though we had nothing to munch in-between conversations, the red dots plastered on the painting tags, were more than enough to enliven my night. Of the eleven illustrations on show, nine were sold. Ray, who's into art collecting, wanted to add the illustration Thumbelina to his collection - but it was one of those reserved on the first day, and subsequently sold to Mark Yap (who also bought The Little Mermaid).

Although the first day sales was something to be proud of, still, I was embarrassed that I wasn't able to serve refreshment to my guests. So I told my close friends that I'll make it up to them after I got my check. I promised to treat them to lunch, supper, or whatever. I treated Oca Magos to lunch at Busog, and Isko dela Cruz to supper at Sun Wah. While I invited Buds Convocar, Jerry Dean, and Bert Falsis to a night out. But Bert couldn't make it that time because he was indisposed. That's why it was only Buds, Jerry, and me who went to Cubao for a "good time". Buds proposed that we go to Takuza Resto-Bar. The very name of the joint was enough to pique our curiosity. So we went there. Was it fun? - you may ask. I won't tell now. That would be another story altogether.

(Above, the launch and book signing for ONCE UPON A TIME prior to the opening of my solo show)

LA EVOLUTION SURREALISTE

By Arnel Mirasol

Metamorphosis of David, 1982, oil on canvas, 30 X 24 inches, Zaldy Dolatre collection

Message of a Surrealist was the title of a series of group art exhibits organized by University of Santo Tomas (UST) Fine Arts professor Glory Crumb-Rogers and her group in the seventies (below right). The UST surrealists were composed mostly of Fine Arts students, and among the names I remember as founding members of that group were the late Robert Villanueva, Ricky Lacsamana, Edwin Diamante, Aton Roxas, Crispin Villafria, Merit Evangelista, Prof. Rhoda Recto, and Salvador Diaz Jr. (third from right in photo below). They appeared in the Philippine art scene about a full four decades after Galo Ocampo painted Nuclear Ecce Homo (below left) - which was widely recognized as the first Filipino surrealist painting.

The most celebrated member of that group was Robert Villanueva, who later on, in the guise of an Igorot shaman, made his mark as a conceptual and installation artist. His 1989 installation, Archetypes: Cordillera Labyrinth, installed on the Cultural Center of the Philippines grounds won for him wide critical acclaim. A classmate and long-time friend, Jun Diaz, suggested that we join the group. Jun joined; I didn't. The reason I avoided joining that surrealist group was because I'm not yet hooked on surrealism then. The paintings I admired most at that time were those of Michelangelo and Botong Francisco.

It was only in 1981, when I saw in a book Salvador Dali's painting "Sea-Shade-Dog" (above) that surrealism caught my fancy. The painting depicts a naked girl lifting the edge of a blanket that doubles as the sea, and underneath which lies a sleeping dog. I was enthralled by that painting, and I decided, right then and there, to become a surrealist. I wanted to buy the book, but I didn't have enough money that day. When I returned a few months later to buy the book, it was no longer there. In its stead was a thicker more expensive book costing around 500 pesos, which was a lot of money in 1981. Luckily I have more than enough money that time to buy that thicker Dali book. That book, The World of Salvador Dali by Robert Descharnes, became my painting bible of sorts throughout the 1980s.

Seraglio Fantasy, 2005, oil on canvas, 24 X 24 inches, private collection

Ever since I discovered that surrealism is a "no-holds-barred" style, I find it useful in depicting not only the fantasies which I continue to indulge in to this day, but also my political advocacy. I'm admitting now that all my supposedly surrealist paintings weren't really fully surrealist. I have been re-reading lately writings on the surrealist movement, and I've "re-discovered" that for an artwork to be considered truly surrealist, it shouldn't be the product of a conscious creative process. That is, true surrealist artworks are products of the subconscious - dreams, chance, and other "automatist" and non-deliberate art-making processes - which my paintings (below right) were not.

 Gift of War,  1982, acrylic and collage on paper,

Nueva Gomorrah; 1990, acrylic, ink and silver tempera on paper

Kabaliwan ng Malalaking Lilipol sa Maliliit, 1982, oil on canvas, 30 X 24 inches

My  paintings of that period, 1981 to 1990, belong more to the social realist movement with its angry tone and overt proletarian slant. But I did used surrealist iconography in heaps. Images of levitating bodies, mutating forms, and incongruously juxtaposed objects were staples of my art then.

Checkmated Pawns, 1982, oil on canvas, 30 X 24 inches, private collection

Lupa. 1983, oil on canvas, 24 X 48 inches, Nicanor Tiongson collection

When I returned to serious painting in 2002, I still managed to come up with a painting that is social realist in tone but surrealist in imagery - Happy Man /Corrupt Bureaucrat Dissected 2 (below). This painting, although also a commentary on social issues, is already watered-down social realism. The anger is no longer there.

Corrupt Bureaucrat Dissected 2/Happy Man, 2000, acrylic on paper

It was in 2008 when a change, in both theme, form, and technique occurred in my art. That was the time when I eschewed political themes altogether and just focused mostly on depicting myths, musicians, and the fantasies which any healthy male would indulge in from time to time. The hardcore social realists may accuse me of selling out. Well, who cares? It's more fun to be naughty than to be angry anyway.

My Serenade, 2009, oil on canvas, 35 X 35 inches, Julian Felix collection

FAMOUS AND RICH

By Arnel Mirasol

Cover art, acrylic on paper, 1998, Tisa Roxas-Tan collection

The book The Brothers Wu and the Good-Luck Eel (above) is very special to me. Aside from winning a slew of awards both here and abroad, it also afforded me the chance to have a fleeting taste of the good life that is an everyday thing for the rich. Reni Roxas hosted two publisher's lunches - first at the Manila Polo Club and then at the Krocodile Grille - to promote the books about to be launched by Tahanan. That was for free, of course. And I - who was born and raised in Tondo, and who once considered eating out at the Wah Sun Restaurant (below left) in Sta. Cruz, Manila,  as the epitome of fine dining, - imagined that I have just climbed up a rung or two on the social ladder.

Domesticated wild pigs posted near the doorway of the Sun Wah Restaurant

The book launch and book signing was again held at the Manila Polo Club, that "watering hole" of the old rich in Forbes Park. I managed to sell there 13 of the 15 illustrations I did for the book. Among the illustrious persons who bought several pieces were Marixi Rufino-Prieto, Chairman of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, and husband Alex (below right). They bought three.

Me signing a copy of the book  for Marixi and Alex

Myself with my sons Kai and Bahgee

Marixi later on added to her collection of my works my illustration Snow White and Rose Red. It was the first time I sold that many artworks. I felt triumphant. So, I went home that night feeling already famous and rich. Just a fleeting sensation of course. Because money, like time, really flies away fast.

China Harbor, acrylic on paper, 1998, Marc Singer collection

The Duck Farm, acrylic on paper, 1998, Tisa Roxas-Tan collection

Thank You Eels, acrylic on paper, 1998, private collection

The author, Fran Ng, won First Prize in the Short Story for Children category in the 1998 Palanca Awards for this story, while the supposed excellence of my illustrations (below) landed me in the 2002 Honour List of the International Board on Books for Young People in Basel, Switzerland. "The Brothers Wu and the Good-Luck Eel" also won the 2000 National Book Award for Children's Literature.

DEX'S HEX

By Arnel Mirasol

There is a song whose line , "Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered", would precisely describe the state I`m in after viewing Dex Fernandez`s artworks (below). I`m also dazed and amazed by their originality. True, I suspect that his style is but an amalgam of various styles and techniques, but the way he fused his various influences into a coherent artwork would make this artwork his very own original creation.

Let`s take as an example his installations of robot-like sculptures, titled Hi (below). These robots are sculptures in-the-round, being three-dimensional and free-standing. But I would assert that they are also paintings. Dex told me that these robots were made of plywood which were then wrapped in canvas, and on which are painted images strongly evocative of anime, manga, graffiti and even Alfonso Ossorio`s iconography. If Robert Rauschenberg had what he called his "combine paintings", Dex Fernandez is now showing us his "combine sculptures". I propose to call these objects "tattooed sculptures"

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Which brings to mind Manuel Baldemor`s "paintures" and Angelo Baldemor`s painted still-life wood carvings. I`m not saying that Dex`s sculptures are similar to those by the Baldemors. They are not. Because, although also painted, the wood carvings by the Baldemors, are still basically sculptures, whereas Dex`s objects are sculptures and paintings rolled into one. And that`s the reason why I`m saying that Dex is doing original work. This is the first time that I see, in the Philippine art scene at least, sculptures of this kind.

I would also classify as a tattooed sculpture a similar work of his, the humongous though less robotic, I Feel Like Nausea (at left).This sculpture, which is more abstract in treatment, and twelve feet in height, was supposed to be shown at the Technological University of the Philippines`s (TUP) alumni art exhibit at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) last October 14. But since the CCP`s main gallery cannot accommodate artworks that high, it was decided not to include this sculpture in the exhibit anymore. A pity. It would have staggered many.

Now, where did Dex get the inspiration for such artworks? Which artist gave him the idea? I cannot place his art. I`m baffled, that`s why for now, I`ll say that like, Prudencio Lamarroza, Igan d`Bayan, Roberto Feleo and Gabby Barredo, Dex Fernandez belong to that exclusive class of Filipino artists whom I consider as true originals.

 Dex Fernandez is a graduate of TUP. He used to share a studio in Marikina with close friends Froilan Calayag and Mark Andy Garcia, who are also TUP graduates. He`s into serious art making full-time and also does on the side graphic works like designing posters and cd covers. The latter activity, which he deprecatingly called his raket, probably inspired him to create another type of artwork, which can be considered mixed-media paintings, being two-dimensional. I`m referring to the enlarged photographs, which he jazzed up with acrylics, pen and ink, serigraphed designs and even embroidery. The well-known artist duo, Gilbert and George, may have given him the idea of manipulating photographs for pure artistic ends, but Dex insisted that they have not. (below, sample artworks by Gilbert and George)

I believe him because as I have written before, it is entirely possible for artists from different parts of the world to come up with similar or even identical ideas. And besides, if we juxtaposed, an artwork by Dex with an artwork by Gilbert and George, we wouldn`t find any difficulty in pointing out the differences between them. Dex`s mixed-media painting, Team Bacterium , RTR (Ready to Riot), below,  would be a case in point.

This is an enlarged photograph, 4 X 3 feet, showing a rank of teen-age boys and a tattooed robot. To these photographed images were added doodles reminiscent of current pop iconography, cartoon-like images that would have been called graffiti art had they been painted instead on walls in public places. Gilbert and George is not into that. Staples of pop art, like cartoons, animes and mangas are not their concern. But that is Dex`s world. The very sub-title, Ready to Riot,  evokes a way of life that is apparently now, because those words would readily be associated with juvenile or frat culture, of which animation and tattoos are a big part of. By the way, I presume that there`s no need for me to explain the meaning of this painting. The title, I suppose, is clue enough. Dex said that he'd had one solo show, so far, at the Pablo Gallery. He`s still very young and I expect him to mount several solo shows in the near future. If the art works featured here are any indication, there is reason for me to believe that Dex`s future creations would still perplex me. And that`s a good thing. I would very much prefer to be baffled than be bored.

- November 8, 2010

THE ABSTRACT VISIONS OF SIR BUDS

By Arnel Mirasol

I first saw an artwork by Buds Convocar during an exhibition, if I remember correctly, at the University of the East Main Campus at C.M. Recto Avenue, way back in 1983. The title of the piece - again if I remember correctly - is "The Enigma of the Automated Man". It is a mixed-media piece, painted in monochromatic hues, depicting the skull-like or maybe robotic face of a man. Attached to this face are wires and springs, while relief cut-outs of lightning-like images adorned the artwork's upper part. I wouldn't venture an explanation of this artwork, but I suppose that I detect a thematic pattern in Bud's art.

 But before delving deeper into Bud's recurring thematic concerns, let me expound a little on the issue of what really is abstraction. I noticed that some artists, even those who styled themselves as abstractionists, are confused about the true nature of abstraction. There is a guy who insisted that an abstract painting contains no recognizable objects, whether natural or man-made, in it. Nothing could be more wrong. To clear things up, the thing we should do is to first look up what is really meant by the word abstract. A dictionary defines abstract as having only intrinsic (basic) form with little or no pictorial representation; as a verb, abstract is also suppose to mean "to summarize". I emphasize the word "little" in the first definition because that is really the operative word, the key to abstract's real meaning. So there, an abstract painting is also allowed to have a little pictorial representation. And summarizing an artwork by the way doesn't mean erasing completely the recognizable images of objects, but merely simplifying or reducing them to their simplest and most basic form. Let's allow the art critic George Heard Hamilton to have the last word on this issue. He wrote: "Abstract is a more general term. An abstraction may be non-objective, but the word also refers to many kinds of non-realistic paintings and sculptures, especially to those in which references to nature are remote or oblique, as in Cubist, Futurist, or Expressionist art." Also, according to him, those paintings with totally new forms having no relation at all to objective nature, are more precisely referred to as works of non-objective art - or nonobjective abstraction (below).

Painting by Kasimir Malevich

Painting by Piet Mondrian

Painting by Helen Frankenthaler

Now, going back to Buds - I said that I detect a thematic pattern in his art making. Well, anyone who'll look closely can also see that. Gino Dormiendo, who once wrote a review on Buds art, have written on it extensively. He wrote that the paintings by Buds then on show were inspired mostly by Erich von Daniken's book, Chariots of the Gods" ( below right),

which tells of von Daniken's theory that extra-terrestrial astronauts have visited the earth during prehistoric times, and were responsible for the sudden emergence of ancient civilizations. According to von Daniken, the flying angels or divine beings mentioned in the bible and other ancient books were really the ETs or extraterrestrials of ancient times who share with the primitive earthmen their superior knowledge and technology.

And Bud's way of depicting that supposed fact was by including in his paintings the images of dials, knobs, wires, gauges, and other gadgetry of a high-tech alien spaceship. Also, to further reinforce that element of extra-terrestrial or cosmic mystery, Buds teasingly gave his paintings esoteric and arcane titles. Well, those elements were present in the "Enigma of the Automated Man", and his quite recent and current abstractions. It looks as if Bud's main thematic concern then and now is what effect technology would have on the future of mankind. Of course, he veered off somewhat from that theme when he did images of musicians, carousel horses, fishes, monkeys, and the like, but still, the automated or robotic attributes of those images are still very evident. (below: sample paintings by Convocar)

As to technique, Buds's method is as sophisticated as his theme. His paintings are well thought out, impeccably composed, harmoniously colored, and neat. He is no exponent of the slapdash bravura espoused by and excelled in by many abstractionists. Let's admit that many a five year old painter wannabe could also churned out artworks resembling those made by Jackson Pollock (below) and the other abstract expressionists.

As an example, I remember a sculptor's "two-man" exhibit with his then five year old granddaughter. This granddaughter exhibited a suite of abstract paintings which on the surface were all appealing and competently done. But of course, all of us serious artists and also the art critics ought to dismiss those paintings she did as insignificant - for now. I, for one, am of the conviction that an artist should first be well-honed on the intricacies of drawing and the other fundamentals of artistic techniques, before he should venture out to take the modernist or abstract route. But the granddaughter's precocious foray into art, despite its being limited to the drip and splatter technique was a good start. Who knows, this granddaughter may decide later on to pursue art as a full time career. If that happens. then the abstracts she did when she was five would gain enormous significance, especially if she got elevated to major painter status.

Many of you would asked why I called Buds Convocar, Sir Buds. Well, the answer is he really was my sir. Although I'm four years older than him, he was one of my teachers when I resumed after seven years my art schooling at the UE School of Fine Arts. I remember him then as very exacting and strict, which on hindsight I now see as a reflection of his self-discipline and no-nonsense approach to life - traits which were the exact opposite then of the attitude of a very undisciplined me. Almost thirty years have passed by and Buds went on from being an art teacher to a full-time professional painter who've garnered awards in several prestigious art competitions. He was also a president once of the Saturday Group and the Art Association of the Philippines (AAP), which attested to the respect accorded him by his peers in the Philippine art scene. Seeing his single-minded devotion to art, and his persistent striving to perfect his technique and invent new forms, I must admit that it would be difficult for me to dissociate myself from Sir Buds and cease being his fan.

 - April 9, 2011