MON VILLANUEVA'S FISH FIXATION

By Arnel Mirasol

Mon Villanueva at work

Don't be fooled by the beer bottle Mon Villanueva is holding. Mon is no bohemian. He is a devoted family man who considers his wife and daughter his treasures. Well, he may drink from time to time as most males do, but drinking is not the be all of his existence. For all we know, that Red Horse Beer bottle Mon is holding may not contain beer at all - but linseed oil or turpentine. Seriously now: Mon Villanueva also amazed me. Like Jojo Garcia, he is another fine arts classmate whom I pointedly ignored during our college days at the University of the East (UE). That's because he looked to me like another happy go lucky guy who's head was not in his studies.

Blue Period

Fishes of Eight

Anyhow (Grilled)

So, you can just imagine my surprise when news reached me that he won first prize in the 1994 Metrobank Young Painters Annual. My surprise, I must confess, was tinged with envy, because his prize money was fifty thousand pesos, while the prize I won in the first edition of that contest in 1984 was only ten thousand. I was further disappointed because he forgot to treat us, his old classmates, to even a few bottles of beer. Unlike me, who spent a whole day on gimmicks with Bert Falsis and Rolly Cruz - the guys who accompanied me to the bank when I had my cheque encashed. Mon's winning entry to the Metrobank competition, Nang Mahimbing si Mariang Makiling, Nanalanta ang mga Sakim is in oil. It depicts a crowd, a group of small-time loggers perhaps, who are ravaging a forest of leafless trees. It was a disturbing yet charming work - done when he was already a student at the Philippine Women's University, where he transferred when he left UE. Painted with much skill, and a rather obsessive attention to detail - that winning painting showed that the intervening years weren't wasted; that Mon, had perhaps, chucked off his non-conformist ways and had trodden instead the straight path towards the thorough honing of his craft.

He again surprised me several years later when he became a finalist in one Philip Morris painting competition, where his entry was done entirely in carved bamboo colored with oil paint. I wasn't much impressed with that work because it looked, with its garish colors, handicraft-y to me. But my rather low regard for his bamboo relief pieces was then. Now, Mon had already hurdled the barrier separating mere craft from fine art, and his recent pieces, all intricately done and in harmonious colors yet, look so pleasing to my eyes. Today, what I envy Mon for was his originality. I don't remember any fine artists who once used bamboos as medium. Mon's pieces are uniquely his own, while mine suffers from being an amalgam of my various influences. Mon is original, I am not.

We can see from samples of Mon's art above that he is very much fascinated by the fish motif. He was not the first one. Many painters before him have depicted fishes in their paintings, though not obsessively so - like Picasso, Magritte, and our very own Ang Kiukok and E.R. Tagle - and even me, for that matter (below right). But we were all sissies compared to Mon, because our paintings were accomplished by near-effortless flicks of the wrist and of the hand holding the brushes: while Mon's bamboo reliefs require brawn and finely-honed woodworking skills.

The Ichtus

Pablo Picasso at work

A painting by Rene Magritte

A painting by Ang Kiukok

A painting by E.R. Tagle

I

I can only surmise why Mon is obsessed with fishes. The fish - the ichtus (above left) - you see, was a symbol used by early Christians to identify themselves, That fact may make me conclude that Mon is probably a very devout Christian nowadays. Or, Mon perhaps might be a secret adherent of E.R. Tagle's Positivism dogma that posited fish to be a positivist or prosperity symbol. This conclusion is nearer to the truth, I must say, if we consider the painting Fishes of Eight, because the number 8 as we all know is considered a lucky number by the Chinese - and luck in all cultures is almost always tied up with material abundance and prosperity. But whatever his reasons are, all that Mon has to do if he wants luck to saunter after him like a frisky pet dog is to continue turning out masterly bamboo reliefs like he had been doing for several years now. And he need not limit himself to doing rehashes of fish compositions, ad nauseam, because any other image if painted - or in his case, carved- with great care and skill can only invite luck and praises from his admirers, which now include me.

Mon Villanueva and Zero

RIC ARTE'S SEARCH

By Arnel Mirasol

One need not take up Fine Arts in college if one wants to be a good painter. There are a few or even several painters, whose names escape me at present, who are big names now in the Philippine art scene even though they weren't fine arts students before. There was the National Artist Hernando R. Ocampo, who was a writer by profession, but went on to make his mark as an abstractionist with a very distinct style. There was also the architect Onib Olmedo and the pilot Lino Severino. Even though Olmedo and Severino are not, and may never be, National Artists, still, I count them among the most illustrious names in Philippine art history. Why? Because both of them have inspired and influenced many painters, who emulate their style and choice of subject matter. Many painters, including Marcel Antonio, who's National Artist material himself, have openly admired Olmedo's works. I can also add Elmer Borlongan (another National Artist material in my book), and perhaps his whole Salingpusa confreres, among Onib's admirers. Looking at Onib's painting (below), we can easily see who Elmer's source of inspiration might be for the bald humanity he is fond of depicting in his paintings.

Lino Severino, on the other hand, seems to be forgotten nowadays, because I haven't yet heard of any painter of vintage houses paying tribute to him as his primary influence. A pity - because Severino was a big name in the seventies. He was the one who popularized paintings of old houses, facades mostly, which he depicted in a manner that was almost abstract. I consider these paintings - his Vanishing Scene Series (below) - as still the best of this genre.

Ricarte Ico follows in their footsteps.Although his talent in art seems innate (his fascination with drawing began from his pre-school years), it wasn't Fine Arts that he took up in college. He majored in History at the CAP College Foundation, and also earned later on a Certificate in Teaching at the Don Mariano Marcos Memorial State Univerity. He also has several units in architecture from Saint Louis College La Union tucked under his belt. Ricarte was born and raised in San Marcelino, Zambales, but is now based in Bauang, La Union. Ricarte learned the basics of painting from artists friends, and honed his skill further through self-study and constant practice. His knowledge in architectural drafting led Ricarte to explore the possibilities of integrating fine art and architecture in his paintings. Ricarte had already won four first prizes and one second prize in six on-the-spot competitions he joined. He had exhibited works in various venues in San Fernando City, La Union, and Metro Manila. I met Ricarte at facebook, and I've encountered him in person only once, at the Marikina Riverbanks, when we were both invited by Isagani Fuentes to join his group, Akwarelistas, in their plein-air painting session. A sociable fellow apparently, Ricarte, although residing in far-away La Union, readily confirmed his attendance, and was at the painting venue early. Ricarte is a member of several art groups, like the Artists Guild of La Union, and also of the Pinoy na Pinoy Visual Artists, Inc.(PPVAI), and the Art Association of the Philippines (AAP) - which further attests to his outgoing ways. Ricarte is not a full-time painter yet - he is still working as an Administrative Assistant at the Department of Education's office in San Fernando, La Union.

Ricarte started painting in 1995. He began as a realist, as all painters should. I have reiterated in my writings that an artist should first master the rudiments of realist drawing and painting before venturing out to try his hand in abstraction and other modernist styles. And that was exactly what Ricarte did. Among his early works, his painting of sunflowers (above right), is the one I like best. Although pointillist at first glance, this painting's brushwork is really distinct from the original pointillist technique invented by Georges Seurat, and popularized here by Ibarra dela Rosa. Seurat's method was to juxtapose dots of different colors which were blended optically by the viewers' eyes to create from afar the illusory intermediate colors. Ibarra utilized the same principle, but his brushwork deviated somewhat from Seurat - instead of dots, he applied sausage-like curvilinear shapes to his canvases. Ricarte does things differently, however. He applied his dots of lighter hues more as finishing touches, to lighten areas in his paintings that need lightening. Whether true or not to the pointillist principle , Ricarte's paintings can be as charming as the paintings by the old masters of pointillism like Seurat, Pissarro, Signac, Sisley, and Ibarra. But Ricarte is not only a sociable fellow; he is also apparently a restless one. He could have rested on his pointillist laurels and content himself in churning out pointillist canvases for the rest of his painting career - like what Ibarra did. But, no - he chose to explore other styles, specifically cubism. His paintings in this genre are on the verge of becoming non-objective abstractions, especially the later ones of fishes , whose lines, both the straights and the curves , seem to be drawn using rulers and other mechanical drawing instruments. Perhaps, this is the fusion of fine art and architecture in his paintings that Ricarte spoke of. I wouldn't be surprised if Ricarte veered further towards the non-objective extreme of Constructivism and Suprematism, because Ricarte after all was an architectural draftsman once. He would I'm sure relish drawing the lines, squares, and arcs that define the paintings of the practitioners of those schools. At any rate, this search for new forms on the part of Ricarte should be applauded. The results justify his experimentation. Because his cubist paintings of fishes (and even of the playful Angry Birds below) will most likely win the nod of those critics, collectors, and painters, who consider the clinically-realistic academic paintings passe, trite , and uncreative.

Angry Birds of Paradise

JOPUNK ROCKS, JOPUNK ROLLS

By Arnel Mirasol

Jojo Garcia's love affair with jeepneys continues. Jeepneys as subject matter in painting have already been done to death, so to speak, by many Filipino painters in the past. Vicente Manansala, Antonio Austria, and Rock Drilon, to name only the most prominent, have dabbled with the jeepney motif at one time or another. There was also Junjie Versoza, Jojo's close friend in college, who made the repeating frontal images of jeepneys his signature style then. It was perhaps fascination with Junjie's paintings that prompted Jojo to do his own take on jeepney images. (below left, a painting by Junjie Verzosa)

Anyway, despite not being the pioneer in the field of jeepney painting, Jojo's substantial contribution to jeepney visual lore isn't diminished one bit. His jeepney paintings (samples below right) also fascinates - and amuses. The words and phrases written on the jeepneys' "headboards" (or visors?) and bumpers are very revealing not only of the milieu, but also of the very personality of the artist himself.

From words like Rock n' Roll, Walastik, Wild Street, Betrayed, Oioioi, Dead Ends, Bandits, Sex Pistols, Rakista, and Kankaloo, we can easily deduce that Jojo Garcia was a "punkista" from Caloocan, who have chucked off his old ways and found his true path in art. Jopunk rocks, not through music, but through his paintings. And he's also on a roll these days. Jojo excused himself from joining us on several occasions because he was up to his neck with painting jobs. His jeepney paintings are - pardon the cliche - selling like hotcakes. That's why he no longer has time to bond with us, his old comrades-in-art. But that's a positive development, I suppose; because I'm sure that when he gets to find the time to join us, he won't hesitate to pick up the tab and treat us all to the mother of all drinking binges.

Above photo, taken during my younger son Kai's first birthday celebration in 1988, shows from left, Rolly San Mateo, George Calma, JR Alonzo, and Jopunk Jojo Garcia himself.

DEAN OF WATERCOLORISTS

By Arnel Mirasol

In contrast to the guy I wrote about previously - my comrade-in-art Jojo Garcia - Jerry Dean was a very disciplined student. He diligently attended his classes, passed his plates on time, and abhors gallivanting and indulging in forbidden pleasures . He is one classmate whom I have not lost track of over the years. We are compadres - he is ninong (godfather) to my younger son, Kai. We were also partners once in a t-shirt printing business, and snorkeling buddies too.

Jerry worked for many years in animation, first as special effects, and later, as background artist. His stint in this field honed his skill in watercolor techniques. With the advent of the computer, he was compelled to learn Photoshop and other digital painting programs. Jerry had also worked abroad, in Vietnam and Singapore as animation background artist, and in Kuwait as muralist. Although the latter job paid well, he confessed that he'd rather not do murals again if the job includes doing ceiling paintings, which gave him a bad neck.

 His marriage opened for him another career - that of cake decorator. His wife, Franz, you see, owned a bakery, and she encouraged Jerry to enroll in a cake decoration course. Jerry did, and the knowledge he acquired he was able to put into good use when he went to work in Singapore as cake decorator. He was back after almost a years' stay in Singapore and is again indulging his true passion which is watercolor painting.

Rouge at Dawn

Jerry likes his watercolor paintings wet - that is, he loves applying watercolor paints or inks on wet paper, and lately, canvas surfaces. The effect he's aiming for is the one wherein the paint "explodes" or spreads out upon contact with the wet surface. (see above).

Early Journey

Unlike his old watercolors (right), Jerry's 2011 works, Self-Contentment and Fusion of Archetypes (below), are very much pared down, and very colorful too. This is all to the good, because his abstract treatment of part of the background gives the painting a more spontaneous and fluid quality, which are traits one always looks for in watercolors.

Self-Contentment

Fusion of Archetypes

When his love affair with watercolor will end Jerry can't answer as yet. He had implied that he hasn't exhausted all the possibilities of the medium. As things stand he is just into herons, flowers, and boats. So we can expect Jerry to devote several years more to watercolor if he intends to take on the challenge of depicting other subject matter.