A FILIPINO BOY’S FIRST WARTIME CHRISTMAS

In my youth, PEACETIME did not take on its real meaning for like thousands of Filipinos never really had reason to think otherwise. As an eleven year old native Filipino boy born and raised in Manila, the capital city of the Philippines the Feast of the Birth of Jesus was one of the highest celebrations there was since the Philippines was 89 percent Catholics.

But December 8 (December 7) 1941 tragically changed the way we prepared and celebrated Christmas.

In the Philippines the tradition for all Catholics was to prepare oneself spiritually and socially for this great Catholic Feast. Thus, every family followed a certain pattern of behavior as early as the start of the Advent Season. I will never forget the ritual which my parents and grandparents observed in preparing for Christmas.

First off, my father would make sure that we have a live Christmas tree installed in our two story home following the American model [for we have been under the Americans for almost one hundred years, after being under Spain for 350 years] All around residential streets hung  decorative buntings and lanterns in the shape of stars which were displayed in every home.

By early December my mother Sarah which was her yearend ritual, would already be checking the shipping schedules of American liners that brought over her orders of toys and gift items that she had ordered through the mail order catalogue of U.S. based Sears and Roebuck Inc.  Every year end, once the local firm of Sears in Manila contacts mother Sarah my father would then send someone to pickup the items from the South Harbor where most major ocean going vessels from the U.S. would dock.

We were sternly forewarned by our mother that no one can touch any of the items until Christmas Day when the opening of the gifts take place. While this was going on, the other tradition in our household was manned by my Grandma Salome (my father’s mother) with her team of cooks  in the person of our Aunt Naty,  Aunt Nene, and all the younger brothers of my father. They were helped by the housemaids (and we always had a platoon of them in every Filipino home) prepare all the food and specially cooked Spanish-Filipino fare we serve for this great Catholic feast day.

The Christmas dishes included Pork Caldereta, Menudo, Pochero, Lomi Soup, Lechon on a spit, Escabeche, and Sinigang na bangus.  This array of traditional dishes is then topped by desserts which included Leche Flan, (custard), all kinds of locally made rice passed sweets, and more.

In the meantime, about two weeks before Christmas my father would drive towards downtown Chinatown in Manila and procure the Chinese ham which was sought after by most Filipinos for its quality.  Once we have the ham it is glazed by my mother with sugar and other ingredients to sweeten the ham before serving.

There were three children in the family, and I was the eldest and only son. Two sisters followed me in sequence. We were always the recipients of gifts from all the aunts and grand aunts as well as extended families as we Filipinos are known for.

When Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese Imperial Forces in December of 1941 our peaceful existence dramatically changed.

In stark contrast with previous Christmases where most Filipinos were often primed to put their all in the preparation of food and other necessities designed to make the celebration truly Catholic and definitely memorable, Pearl Harbor changed all that.

Once Pearl was attacked the Japanese airplanes then flew towards the Philippines and began to bomb and shell military installations in Manila where my family and I lived.  We could see the effects of the bombing from our second story residence. Thus, all the traditional preparation by our family were put on hold.  We were ordered by Philippine President Manuel Quezon to observe blackouts by putting dark tar on windows so that none of the living room lights would filter out onto the streets. Instead of buying food and gifts, nothing of the sort occurred at all for we were often in the air raid shelter whenever the siren would sound when an attack was imminent. 

The items my mother had ordered through Sears and Roebuck never got clear or delivered because the U.S. ships were all held at bay waiting  for instructions.  Soon enough, the Japanese Imperial Army were allowed to enter Manila which was declared by Pres. Quezon as an “Open City”.  The enemy just sauntered into the city leisurely with no shots being fired.

Soon, it was Christmas eve. We tried to attend Mass on Christmas Eve but we saw just a handful of parishioners in attendance and right after Mass we had to go home upon orders from the president’s office.

Christmas Day was no different. What we usually would be doing in past Christmases was celebrating with all my aunts and uncles exchanging gifts and hugging one another. Nothing of that took place on Christmas of 1941.

Instead, we had reports from the radio of more bombings and dead and injured victims being rushed to the different hospitals in the city.

Not far from our residence was a school run by nuns.  When the Japanese forces came to Manila all the families of their enemies (Americans, Canadian, Australian, etc.) were detained in this school. 

I got to visit the children once and befriended a nice looking American girl named Gigi.  I had my mother wrap a little present to be given to Gigi which I did.  Just before she and the rest were removed from the school for another place I gave her the present through the window of one of the classrooms.  She smiled at me with tears in her eyes.  Soon after, they were gone.

Such was my first wartime Christmas which I shall always remember for the rest of my natural life.

Nick Joaquin by Rosalinda Orosa on November 7, 2015 The Sunday Times Magazine

Tony Joaquin discloses the following little-known facts about his uncle Nick Joaquin, National Artist for Literature, who is generally regarded as the greatest Filipino writer in English.

1. The very first edition of his Prose and Poems in 1953 containing Nick Joaquin's short stories and poems were among his best works. The soft cover issue is on its third or fourth re-edition already. (Baby Orosa was then the assistant of Chronicle editor Indalecio Soliongco when he asked me to review Joaquin’s book. The review appeared forthwith under Soliongco’s byline. RLO)

2. Nick’s latent generosity surfaced when he was bumped by a jeepney one night as he was crossing the street. Nick suffered minor bruises and contusions because of that accident and so was brought to the hospital by the people. When the police officer assigned to the case asked Nick whether he was filing charges against the jeepney driver, Nick said no and instead asked to see the driver and when Nick saw the hapless driver, he even offered him some money to take home to his family. The driver was speechless but very grateful for the gesture.

3. When Jose Rizal’s classic Ulitmo Adios was translated into English verse, Nick’s translation was acclaimed to be the best compared to others like that of Sen. Claro Recto who himself thought so.

4. A rare display of defiance and considered a heroic act was Nick’s “negotiating” with the late President Ferdinand Marcos that Nick could agree to being considered Philippine National Artist for Literature only if he released Nick’s buddy Pete Lacaba who was detained at the time. Nick got his wish and the rest is history.

5. Nick was said to be the ONLY writer who ”dared” to look into the lives of so-called Filipino heroes and won accolades for his having written the book A Question of Heroes.

6. Nick’s now classic stage play Portrait of the Artist as Filipino is now translated into two languages (Tagalog, Spanish) and presented as a play and as a movie.

7. Lamberto “Bert” Avellana stated that Nick’s short stories, if one were to read them, looked like professionally written  screenplays that a movie director could easily  shoot the plays outright just reading the book.

Grandfather Balbino, Grandma Carlota, Tio Koko Hernando

------------------

BALBINO KABIGTING Y YUSON

     Balbino had a brother Salvador who were both adopted by a family from Nueva Ecija named Yuson for the boys were complete orphans.  Balbino studied accounting while Salvador banking and finance. Balbino worked as accounting clerk for a government firm and this is where he got to know the government service and people who helped him rise in his chosen career.  Although he admits to being a Catholic, Balbino does not believe in going to Mass but is one of the most honest persons I have ever met. I say this as a young observer of 8 years old when Balbino whom I called Lolo Binong was already in his senior years working as provincial treasurer assigned to Batangas, province where I was spending my vacation, being the oldest grandson at the time. 

     One evening he was taken to the hospital when he collapsed while supervising his staff to double check errors in their accounting reports.  It turned out that he was just looking for centavos that were missing (probably miscounted) in the report and because of this he had to stay after hours working until his blood pressure shot up and had to be hospitalized. Perhaps, I said to myself, that was also how he was able to go up the ranks of the Masonic club he joined.   

     I was often with Lolo Binong as a young boy studying at the Catholic school in San Juan, so much so that he wanted me to almost behave the way he did. One day he brought me to a hat maker in San Juan where he was still the Provincial Treasurer of Rizal and San Juan was the official place he held office.  At the hat maker he ordered them to make a Panama hat that resembled exactly the one he was wearing.  They did and I went around with Lolo wearing this hat wherever he went. I felt like a midget walking beside Lolo both of us wearing the hat. When Lolo decided to let Mama use the main residenial building in San Juan he had another annex built at the back of the property which was a 1000 sq meter lot for him and Lola Carlot. This was connected with a footbridge made of wood from their veranda to our kitchen.  This made coming and going for him and Lola much easier for Lola was already having problems with her asthma which he relieved by having a morning inhaler. I would always get up early to join Lola early in the morning when I would cross the footbridge to try her coffee with milk which she herself made. We would then chat a while until Lolo Binong wakes up and begin his calisthenics using his golf club.  for he was an avid golfer and was good one at that.

     I am not sure how Lolo Binong and Lola Carlota met but when they were married he was still a lowly accounting clerk while Lola was a housewife but with lots of skills.  Over the years with Lolo Binong being assigned in various provinces at a time to be their provincial treasurer, Lolo was able to do some gardening growing all sorts of vegetables.  With the humble salary of Lolo Binong however Lola was able to save enough to purchase a one hectare plot of land which she planted with fruit trees including mangoes lanzones, and all the Filipino fruits available.  When the trees were ready for plucking she would dispatch through her hired tenant farmer managing the land to ship by train basketfuls of all the fruits in season. My family would drive over to the Santa Mesa train station each time a train comes with these produce and we had to hire a truck in order to fit the baskets of fruits which we would consume ourselves and sell the rest to neighbors and friends wanting to buy them.

     When my father and mother separated in 1946, I felt that this led to the great disappointment of Lola Carlota which caused her sudden death for Lola loved Papa Ping and beside Lola was a very healthy woman (in fact her teeth were so healthy she had no need for dentures until her death). Before Lola died they had a maid who helped her with many things and upon her death Lolo developed an affair with this maid which produced one child who carried Lolo Binong’s family name and who lived with him and the maid until Lolo’s death.

     During town fiestas Lolo Binong, the provincial treasurer, was among the joyful officials who would lead the dancing and singing. He also enjoyed drinking alcoholic beverage but never misbehaved for he knew how to hold his liquor.

LOLA CARLOTA CARLOS KABIGTING

     As a young wife, she managed to live on the small salary of her husband just learning the ropes of being an accounting in a government setting. Because her husband Balbino Kabigting was later groomed for higher position in the Philippine government service she had to adjust to living in different provinces in the Philippines especially when Balbino was already one of the bright provincial treasurer and with ample salary and perks which allowed her to live in houses that had big yards where she could indulge in her hobby of planting vegetable trellises and flowers like champaca jazmin and the like.  In the early nineties they had their first child Balthasar (shortened to Sarah by the daughter herself). However, when other pregnancy followed it was discovered that Lola Carlota was suffering from the sourge at the time known as Rhesus factor – which produced fetuses that never matured and died before it came to term. So, after Sarah it took six dead fetuses before Manuela came around.  Manuela was the eight pregnancy and she was a lovely and fair complexioned child.  Sarah was of the Filipino complexion known as Kayumanggi. 

      Sarah completed her finishing school course at an exclusive Manila school known as Centro Escolar de Senoritas and after that she went to pursue her college degree at the University of the Philippines with a major in Psychology.  However, right after graduation she opted to teach college at a school called Jose Rizal College. It was while she was teaching in this school that she met her husband to be Porfirio Marquez Joaquin who was a professional piano player in the Jazz idiom. He was playing piano and even band leading in several cities abroad like Hongkong, Shanghai or Java, Indonesia. Ping as everyone close to him called him was a likable personable guy with a charming mien. So attractive was he that even his mother in law loved him and often asked him to accompany her when she visited their farm in Laguna.

FRANCISCO KOKO HERNANDO, MD.

     During those moments in my boyhood life I was discovered to have a talent which cost nothing – to walk as ring bearer at a wedding.  When I did this and succeeded Mama was deluged with lots of request to allow me to walk in their weddings and I counted a total of eleven before I outgrew that role. One of the weddings was that of Francisco Hernando and Manuela Kabigting.  Manuela completed her college also at Centro Escolar de Senoritas with a Pharmacy degree.  She did not get to practice it despite the fact that she wanted to but Koko had other plans.  As a doctor, Francisco Hernando worked with the government for a while with the military.  Later he was appointed to several different clinics in Great Manila districts. In the meantime, Manuela who answered to the name of Nene enjoyed playing mahjongg very much that she did it almost everyday, even after the couple had produced several children namely Eugenio, Marita, Benny, and much later Aurea who was almost a menopause baby.   When the war broke out the Hernando family and ours were together in the evacuation exodus to a neighboring province thinking that the place we were in would not be bombed by the Japanese bomber planes.  Koko was very nervous whenever there was an air raid while we huddled in the first glory of our San Juan residence. I remember

     Papa Ping liked to smoke and Tito Koko would admonish him to douse the cigarette lest it can be seen by the Japanese pilots flying thousands of feet above.  Another uncle we had at the time was one who always brandished a Kris (a double bladed sword made by Muslims that had a wavy pattern) at the time as if he could use it to fight the enemy. But during the war years when almost everyone had to switch to horse drawn vehicles I discovered the real love of Tito Koko which were horses.  He had two at home and the way he took care of them brushing  washing  and feeding them was something to behold.  Aunt Nene remarked that he should not have taken medicine but animal husbandry which fitted his desire. But as it was in the past when one’s father strongly suggests that his son will be a doctor, the son has no choice left but to be one even if he did not want to be one. But Tito Koko also likes gadgets and cars. Once he fitted his car with a loud muffler that he would turn on when we were taking long trips. Of course, we kids enjoyed that loud roaring noise and so did Tito Koko.

Felix Javier

September 29 at 6:23am ·

Antonio Joaquin Mr. Tony, I found your uncle Nick's parting poem to your father, Porfirio "Ping" Joaquin. It was printed in his 1987 book, Collected Verse. Apologies but I placed [italicized] after words or phrases that were italicized in the original as Facebook doesn't have an italics feature, and the poem might be read differently if they weren't so.

Bye Bye Jazzbird
1
A death in the family. Relatives
you haven't seen since the last
death in the family reappear
like furniture from your past
reassembled for a movie about it;
reassembling now only as props:
tools of custom, vessels of ceremony,
footlights (as it were) and backdrops,
to celebrate not a death but the family
here having one of its final stops,
here it continues where it stops.
2
No one here as a person,
only as the correct representative
of his branch of the line. Only
the man that's dead is here as himself,
is discussed as such. "Rather lonely,
his last days." "Well, he was on the shelf
all of these years." "He was renting
that crummy apartment?" "No, just a part
of it, the upstairs." "Collapsed, alone
with his cats―whom someone should be representing.
They were so dear to him." "From the start
of the stroke, unconscious." "Four o'clock dawn."
"Died like his father, cerebral hemorrhage."
The crowded wake has a lively tone.
3
From the unfamiliar old man
in the coffin, from the scant-haired head
and ill-fitting dentures, memory slides
back to the golden boy who began
with curls on his brow and a rash of red
birthmarks on his body. "Suerte! Suerte!"
soothsayers intoned. So fair and, besides,
so talented. A prince of a youth!
Colegial del Ateneo. At fifteen,
pianist and stowaway. And in truth
the piano was what he rode to America:
it was his magic carpet, his flying
horse. A good delinquent, he.
Mad about music, high on jazz
and ragtime, all that razzmatazz
when sheik and flapper were just dying
to foxtrot under the bamboo tree.
4
Shift the scene to Manila
late in the 1920s. Vaudeville
tops show-biz. It's cash with class.
On Plaza Goiti is the Savoy
with its Nifties. Plaza Santa Cruz
nightly shines with the rainbow hues
of the Rivoli Theater, which has
the Varieties. And our princely boy
stars there now as King of Jazz
leading the band. He stabs the keys
as leggy high-kiking Nena Warsaw
knocks her knees against her torso.
His piano groans as the sailors howl.
Hot has Maggie Calloway got 'em
while she shimmies her Black Bottom.
Grace Darling steers him to a scowl
as he starts a tune right up her alley:
I wonder What's Become of Sally. [italicized]
Perches Miss Katy de la Cruz
(scatting away the St. Louis blues [italicized])
on his piano. A 1920
and comic tango for Vicente
Ocampo, he follows with a Hot Mama
number for the Alabama
Brothers
crackling mestizo bone
as they teach Miami the Charleston.
What blue notes for his favorite trouper:
star of the show, Miss Dimples Cooper.
And the Rivoli is jumping when,
syncopating, the King of Jazz
hauls up the ultimate razzmatazz:
Happy Days are Here Again! [italicized]
5
Not always happy days, though,
Not always hoopla and whoopee
and hey-hey in that long ago
of young jazz. Backstage bitchings. The droopy
and draggy rehearsals at one a.m.
Shows on the road with crook managers
fleeing with the funds. "We ate our phlegm."
How about that tour of Shanghai
and Harbin when the troupe ended up
stranded in darkest Siberia
and one of the girls went blind. . . .
"However, thank God, it's the good times
somehow that get left behind
in memory. Never mind
that we took awful chances."
The "we" being: Hanasan, Pritzie, Toytoy,
Carmencita Llópiz, Charito Sánchez,
the Morales Sisters, Adolfo López―
names from an era of joy
and a fun town simply swarming
with stands where he played "extra" and solo:
the Elks, the Tiro al Blanco, the Army
and Navy, the old Manila Polo
Club (where you had to be hoity-toity),
Legazpi Landing, Tom's at Goiti. . . .
Fields where the living was easy,
they kept his piano busy
and hot as a sorcerer's apprentice
back in the Roaring 1920s.
6
The living is rougher afterwards,
and the music. The old Savoy
is dead; the Rivoli gone
with vaudeville. He's on the run:
Surabaya. Hong Kong. Los Angeles.
South Africa. The Cine Palace
where an older Katy is dumped on callous
crowds. The elegance of the Nifties
and the Rivoli revues of the past
haunts him as he humors his last
audiences. In the 1950s
he's still onstage―at the Star, at the Clover,
where vaudeville makes a last stand.
And he's still at it, bent over
a keyboard, when burlesque is the grand
finale of the variety show.
End of the line for the rover.
The Gala Theater, so sweet and low,
is curtains for the old jazz hand.
Well, when you have to, you go.
7
No lack of mourners to point
it out: "What an end―the King
of Jazz playing a burlesque joint!"
Actually there's no sting
to the observation. Actually
moreover the Gala had had to be given up
and the last years spent in retirement
from show-biz, save for a monthly sing-
along with Rotary. That and the cats
he always was rushing home to feed
were the last rites. Once indeed
he played in public again―at the Bacus.
Said Lito Molina: "He's a jazz great,
I tell the young buffs and they ask
where are his records? He should be recorded."
By then it was too late,
though he tried to hone himself for this task;
rehearsed a few of the old hits hoarded
in memory. One day, at a family
reunion, he played to a tape recorder
while we cheered and applauded: "More! More!"
That was just a few months before,
having fed the cats, he suddenly
headed south of the border.
8
A death in the family. Last night
of the wake. It rains. A blue note
like the ones that made his piano right.
We step out for a glass of beer,
Totoy Sevilla, Beer Flores, Bentot.
It's towards midnight. No place near
still open except this little disco
upstairs, one block from the church.
Canned music. A-go-go girls in sheer
bikinis doing their lope and lurch
or shaking in shimmy flat
on the floor, while we talk of this and that
and nurse our beer. Totoy
Sevilla keeps his hat
on: he's quite bald. Beer Flores,
ordering, says we've come to enjoy
"chicken without feathers." The quote
amuses the waiter. We snigger in chorus.
He left the movies, says Bentot,
because they make you wait and wait
for your money, then they give you a rubber
check. We sing over beer. "I hate
to see that evenin' sun go down." [italicized]
Not a pop tune for today's nightclubber.
Then back to church, where we clown
it up, having started a family legend:
"They spent the wake getting drunk
at a strip joint." What our kids will remember
of us when in turn we flunk
out. That was a night in November.
9
Next day, after the funeral,
we gather at Ike's place.
Noodles and beer. The tape recording
is played. Abruptly the good old days
tinkle again. The young town
of the '20s, of Rivoli and Savoy,
throbs around us. We are boarding
a trolley car back to those hymns of joy:
Ain't She Sweet [italicized] and Black Susan Brown [italicized]
and How Come You Do Me
Like You Do Do Do. [italicized]
Et cetera. Cheers all the while.
But the last tune on the tape
is the sweetest of all, as new
today as when first given shape
and shiver. Life was a smile
when he wrote it (circa mid-1920s),
the first blues Philippine style.
And because it never went to market
it hasn't lost novelty,
is as fresh as when Maggie Calloway
first sang it on the Rivoli stage:
"I want, I want, I want
I want a little lovin'. . . ." [italicized]
A young man's air, too wistful to age.
We hear it now in astonishment,
in delight. We riot, we rage
and cry "Author! Author!"
Evermore with him
be show and footlights and orchestra
and good piano. He got rhythm.

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Actor-director Jose Mari Avellana takes last bow

====================================

 

MANILA, Philippines—Actor-director Jose Mari Avellana passed away on June 26. 2011 He was 70.

The son of two National Artists, Lamberto Avellana (for theater and film) and Daisy H. Avellana (for theater), Avellana began his career as a radio announcer in the 1960s, before moving to the theater and movies as an actor and director in the 1970s.

He appeared in international productions like “Bloodfist,” “Bloodfist 2,” “Saigon Commandos” and “Caged Fury,” among others.

He directed “Kung Mawawala Ka,” which won best picture in the Metro Manila Film Festival in 1993. He is also remembered for directing the acclaimed period film “Damong Ligaw” in 1997.
As an actor, his last films were the Cinemalaya entries “Colorum” (in 2009) and “Vox Populi” (in 2010).

The cause of his death was listed as splenic artery aneurysm.
Colleagues in the entertainment industry mourned his passing.

Leo Martinez, head of the Film Academy of the Philippines, told the Inquirer: “He was one of the best actors of our time. [The local plays] ‘Equus’ and ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’ stand out as his acting masterpieces.”
Scriptwriter Bibeth Orteza, who penned “Kung Mawawala Ka,” recalled: “When you watched Jose Mari onstage, you not only remembered how he delivered his lines, you remembered his silent beats as well. He was that good.”

Boots Anson-Roa, head of the Movie Workers Welfare Foundation (Mowelfund), said: “Between parents Bert and Daisy, Mari had no choice but to be outstanding himself as an actor and director. He had an untainted record in theater and films.”

Niece Ina Avellana Cosio said: “He was not only my uncle, but my godfather, too. He is resting now.”

Cremation was set on Monday but the wake will continue at Arlington Homes Chapel until Wednesday. Interment is at the Sacred Heart Parish in Makati on Thursday.

He is survived by his wife, four children and seven grandchildren.

Wife Cora remembered him fondly: “A true gentleman, he was a magnificent artist, loving husband and perfect father. He was the best.”

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JULIE BRINKER BYERS MESSAGE TO DAD TONY JOAQUIN

(AS OF AUGUST 29, 2016 DURING JULIE BRINKER BYERS

VISIT TO SACRAMENTO.)

Daddy Joaquin

A celebration of life…what a life it was! As I stand here with a hole in my heart and a leak in my eyes to pay final respects for Tony, I am honored he called me daughter. I know I don’t have his charming good looks or his melodic singing voice, but I did inherit his love of writing. He always wanted me to write a book entitled Rotex to Rotarian, but since I never became a Rotarian, the book remains unwritten. However, that is where this story begins.

More than 30 years ago, I was a Rotary Exchange Student to the Philippines. Dad was the President of Makati West Rotary Club who hosted me. To this day, I can’t see West Side Story and not think of all the singing and dancing at Makati West events! Nevertheless, I digress.

As a sweet sixteen year old, I excitedly walked off the plane in Manila to begin my adventure. I was met by Rudy Ordonez and his 2 sons. They were supposed to be my first host family, but they explained they could not take me for a few months so I would stay with someone else. They drove me to the Peninsula Hotel where I nervously walked into the lobby to meet Tony Joaquin. Tony was very blunt and I was very tired. For the first time, I was questioning my decision to be an exchange student.

Anyway, Tony took me to their apartment. The Joaquins were building a house so the 5 kids and 2 parents were in a 3-bedroom apartment, I, of course, made the apartment even smaller.

At breakfast the next morning, the kids were excited to have an American with them, They couldn’t wait to teach me Tagalog and Filipino culture. They made me feel welcome.

A few days later, I came home from school and was told to gather my belongings. They had found a host family for me and I would be moving!

However, the move did not sever the relationship I had with the Joaquins. They had already become my family. They included me in family activities. They invited me periodically to Sunday meals. My little sister invited me to parties. My oldest sister taught me to dance for the talent portion of a beauty pageant I was in. My older brother gave me free food at McDonalds. My middle sister was and still is the rock. My other brother remained quiet in my presence. Dad never failed to introduce me as his daughter at any social gathering.

The time had come to say good-bye to the Philippines and all of my friends and families. As I took the seat on the plane, the tears started flowing. I cried more that day than I have ever cried. I was leaving a part of my heart behind in the Philippines. I was afraid I would never see my friends and families again. I read the good-bye letters and cried some more. One of them said, “Forget me is up to you, forget you I will never do!” I knew I would never forget the special times, the bonds of friendship and family that I formed.

Due to the political unrest in the Philippines, within a few years, my families started moving to California. While I have been back to visit the Philippines, it is much easier to visit California. Each trip whether for business or with my American family, I would see my Filipino families. I have been included in 25 and 50 year anniversary  parties. I have been invited to weddings and to dinners. Facebook has allowed all of us to keep up with trips, family additions, health concerns, and just day to day life.

As I say good-bye, I look at my dad and know that I am his daughter since he chose to love me. He chose to be a father and support me, encourage me, celebrate with me. He chose to remain in contact with me even across many miles. I am blessed to be a part of this family. Dad, I love you and will miss you but I will never forget you!

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raser Island, Still Life
Alfredo Roces: Man of Arts and Letters
(First of Two Parts)
by: Christiane L. de la Paz
January 2016--Alfredo Roces holds a prominent place in the history of Philippine art. He is a painter who started with a figurative style but soon began to amalgamate Expressionism, Fauvism and Impressionism in his paintings. As he move into Abstract Expressionism and assemblage, he also branched out in these various separate directions without abandoning the figurative and realist schools. More than that, he is also a notable author of Philippine art books whose ability to connect with the readers comes down to how he brings out the fullness of his subject. His books, Amorsolo 1892-1972, Filipino nude: the human figure in Philippine art and a portfolio of nudes, Legaspi The Making of a National Artist, Anita Magsaysay-Ho In Praise of Women, Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo & The Generation of 1872, to name a few, immortalized his writing style. Clear and solid sentences, apt words and sentences to reflect the truth about his subject are the distinguishing marks of his style. He is a recipient of the Ten Outstanding Young Men in Humanities and a Hall of Fame awardee at the Filipino Australian Artists and Cultural Endeavor Society, among many others.In this two-part interview with Roces, he takes us back to his early years as a student of Dominador Castañeda and then George Grosz, his involvement in the formation of the Saturday Group, his artworks during martial law and his life and activities in Sydney, Australia.

How did you start your career as a painter?

During World War II, when I was about 10 years old, I made a copy of Mickey Mouse on plywood, about four inches high in size, cut that out and painted it with my father's discarded pastel sticks which I pulverized and mixed with water. I thought it would be permanent and mounted it on a small, flat wooden stand. My sister-in-law was so delighted with it she paid me 40 centavos Japanese time money. My first art sale.

But of course one really starts any career by formally learning the craft and I started with weekly private tutoring under UP Prof. Dominador Castañeda in 1947. I was 14 years old and a first year high school student then. I then completed four years including summers of fine arts course at the Notre Dame University in Indiana, USA (1950-1954), after which I took an extra year of drawing at the Arts Students League of New York under the Dada German painter, George Grosz (1955-1956). I therefore started my career by going through eight long years of formal academic training.

Can you still recall the first image that you painted?

I must have been always been drawing as child because my father got Castañeda as my private tutor without my mentioning to him anything about studying art. Since none of my elder eight brothers had ever been provided with an art tutor, he must have observed my unusual interest in art.

My first oil painting under Castañeda was a still life, probably 1947-8. My first oil self-portrait still under Castañeda is dated 1950.


First oil painting under Dominador Castañeda (1948)

Why did your father handpick Castañeda to tutor you?

My father's first choice was Fernando Amorsolo but he had retired from UP to concentrate on painting. Amorsolo recommended Castañeda who had replaced him as head of the fine arts at UP. Castañeda had studied in Mexico in the days of Siqueros and Orozco.

What did you learn from your study under him?

Castañeda was an excellent teacher, gentle, patient and informed about technique. I learned one-on-one from him, drawing, proportion, chiaroscuro, perspective, anatomy and the characteristics of colors and the use of pastel, watercolor and oil. He was practical rather than theoretical and he built into me the need to personally care for one's painting gear and equipment and how to wash brushes after using.

He also showed me a book, Constructive Anatomy by George Bridgman a copy of which he had drawn and copied page by page. He was a dedicated artist and teacher. We enjoyed a healthy rapport. When I returned from my studies in the US, he asked me to write the introduction for his book, Art in the Philippines (1964).


Painting under Castañeda, portrait of his sister-in-law, Lita, the wife of his brother Joaquin, Congressman for Manila

Did you have to go to his house in La Huerta, Parañaque or did you hold your weekly lesson in your house or at the UP SFA?

Castañeda would come to our house in Pasay. On occasion he brought his little son Porfirio along. Porfirio remains a friend.

Why did your father choose you to study art among your eight other siblings?

I never mentioned taking art studies to him. He must have observed my interest in the arts. Depending on individual interests, my other siblings got different special tutoring such as guitar and piano for the musically inclined.



With his brother Marcos at the Notre Dame University (circa 1951-1952)

How long did you study under him?

I started around 1947, every Saturday afternoon. I stopped only when I had graduated from high school and left for the US in 1950. So three years.

You were the only one who became an artist. What are the interests of your other siblings?

Three brothers, Rafael Jr., Joaquin and Alejandro were established writers, writing daily columns for newspapers, Tribune, Manila Times, etc.. Alejandro who wrote short stories was named National Artist for Literature. Two were in politics: Joaquin who served as Congressman for Manila's 4th district for four terms. Jesus was Vice Mayor of Manila when Arsenio Lacson was the mayor. The others were businessmen.


Mirror, third prize winner at the Notre Dame University Art Competition (1953)

What made you decide to study Fine Arts at the University of Notre Dame?

My father's family choice. It was a reputable Catholic University which offered a rounded academic education. In the 1930s, my two eldest brothers had also studied there. I went with another sibling, Marcos who took up commerce there. He was a year ahead of me. I started as a general bachelor of arts student but when I won a silver star for a watercolor I had submitted in a student competition in my first year there, I was encouraged to major in Fine Arts. My minor was Philosophy.

The Philosophy was for a Pre-Law course?

No. It was for a general course for Bachelor of Arts. My major was Fine Arts but one had to minor in an academic course. It was an academic college degree and not a technical degree.

What career were you planning to pursue after college?

I had in mind that in a general sense a BA would qualify me for general executive employment but of course I expected to do commercial art work perhaps advertising and of course some writing.

You also took another year studying drawing at the Arts Students New York? Were you after having George Grosz as your teacher?

I was first of all eager to study at the ASL because I wanted to strengthen the basic art skill of drawing and when I saw George Grosz whose satirical and expressive line work I admired as one of the teachers so I opted for his class.


Art class at Notre Dame University (1950-1954)

What was his class like?

He would go over the work of the students as we drew the figure with a model before us. He gave individual attention to each of us. He made us use a fat bamboo reed sliced diagonally at the end and India ink. This medium forces you to be decisive as there is no room for error. It taught you to observe, analyze and then attack the paper. His lines were not neat and precise. They were alive and expressive.

How was George Grosz as a teacher?

He was conscientious. Once he saw a figure drawing I was working on and he explained to me the inner anatomy of the throat, drawing the Adam’s apple and tendons on the blank portion of my drawing to demonstrate that even if these are not visible, your drawing and your lines must imply these. I would bring my paintings in progress to show him and even if this was not part of his class subject of drawing, he would comment and give me pointers. Once he brought the work of Grunewald the following session to show me just what he meant the previous session regarding a painting I had brought to show him. I have an autographed copy of his book with a sketch dedicated to me. Our studio-classrooms were at the ASL in the heart of the city on West 57th street. We would show up in the morning and he would be there.


Cover design of Cocks and Kites (1957)

From the year you began painting professionally in 1957, has your career been divided in phases?

I began about 1957 by illustrating my brother Alejandro’s book of short stories “Of Cocks and Kites by Regal Publishing, 1959. I started with a figurative style but soon began to amalgamate impressionism, expressionism and fauvism in my paintings, even while I’m at Notre Dame. Very quickly I began to explore abstract expressionism and assemblage, branching out in these various separate directions without ever abandoning the figurative and realist schools. Critics’ reviews of my first show noted these “confusing” diversity and subsequent critics in subsequent shows made the same observation.  So I probably work in phases, but you might say I journey simultaneously in diverse directions through diverse media and forms of expressions in a continuous progression of paintings, assemblage, writings books, photographs, pottery, digital art, earth art, and whatever new technical and artistic challenges come my way.

But another way to look at phases is through my own phases in life. I went through a long student phase (1947-1956), followed by an effort to get established as an artist and then as a practicing artist while holding down various jobs such as lecturer in Humanities at FEU, Daily Columnist Manila Times and CEO Massprom, etc. up to Martial Law (1958-72) and my migration to Australia (1977-2015) which of course forced me to be an artist in both countries with a stronger inclination to be part of the Philippine art scene.


Sonatina (1958)

What were you doing during the martial law?

During the Martial Law I continued to paint especially because I could no longer write a daily column for the Manila Times which had been closed down. I was active with the Saturday Group. I even had a drawing retrospective at the Cultural Center of the Philippines Small Gallery in 1974. But more than anything, I was occupied as editor in chief of Filipino Heritage. This project was opposed by Marcos who wanted to hi-jack it for his own political purposes. This conflict pushed me out of the Philippines to complete the project in Australia.

What was the landscape of Philippine art at that time?

It remained fairly active. Imelda Marcos, as you know, portrayed herself as the goddess of the arts. Marcos too had his own coterie as exemplified by Malang. Given that the art institutions were all Marcos fronts, you only have to look at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, the art section which was under Chabet and Albano and the 13 Artists Award they controlled. The Metropolitan was run by Arturo Luz and so too the Design Center of the CCP and also the MOPA. The favored architect was Lindy Locsin.  But of course life went on for artists who were not openly anti-Marcos or Communist. The Saturday Group for example remained active but kept away from controversial politics. Some Marcos artists were members of the Saturday Group. However, art patronage was the domain of Imelda and her Blue Ladies. Rustan's Gallery Bleue, for example, was a thriving gallery then. The same with getting favorable reviews and exposures in the Marcos controlled media, you had to be simpatico to them.


Cover booklet of his 20-year retrospective of drawings at the Cultural Center of the Philippines

What were you painting in those days?

I continued to paint nudes, still-life and landscapes with the Saturday Group. I was getting more into assemblage. Exhibitions went on as normal. In fact, because Imelda Marcos patronized the arts, there was much activity and generous patronage for favored artists. When Albano invited me to put up a show at the Small Gallery of the Cultural Center of the Philippines in 1974, I chose to present a 20 year retrospective show entirely of drawings. I sneaked in a political comment about Martial Law that happily escaped everyone's notice --Caged Drawing and Bottled Drawing. But at least I had covertly recorded my sentiments.


CCP logo designed by Alfredo Roces



Let's talk about the CCP logo that you designed. What was the idea behind it?

When I worked on this logo, I had researched a speech of Mrs.Imelda Marcos, the founder of CCP in which she defined the arts as "the good, the true and the beautiful." In Filipino these would be "Kabaitan, katotohanan at kagandahan". Immediately the Katipunan's KKK came to my mind so I used the original script "K" in Bonifacio's  Katipunan flag and arranged three K's in a dynamic triangle. Truth, Beauty, Goodness, —the attributes of arts and culture and thus of the Cultural Center of the Philippines. This is in direct link with our nationalist heritage seen in the ancient Tagalog script and the Katipunan logo, given life in contemporary abstract form.

Was it you who founded the Saturday Group?

Yes I was one of the main founders but the group is not one person's creation, a core had to start it. The original others were HR Ocampo, Atty.Tony Quintos, Enrique Velasco, followed by Cesar Legaspi, Tiny Nuyda and Bencab. A small slim booklet entitled 10 years of Saturdays was published by the group in 1978 documenting this.

Tony Quintos and I were having lunch at the Taza de Oro when we chanced upon Nanding Ocampo there.We decided to meet again the following Saturday. The group grew slowly from there. Nanding had just retired from work at Philprom. His companion Cesar Legaspi also retired so he joined us. Each one spread the word and brought art-oriented friends like Enrique Velasco. No rules and no official formal members. You come and go as you please. No officers and no elections. This kept the group cohesive but very loose and flexible. When I moved to Australia and Nanding Ocampo and Legaspi passed away, the group decided to hold elections changing its character.


With AAP President, Purita Kalaw Ledesma, during his one-man show in 1968


His brother Alejandro at his first one-man show. He later served as the Secretary of Education under Macapagal and later was named National Artist for Literature.

Please tell some details of your first exhibition.

I showed sixty-seven works of oil and watercolor paintings, mixed media and drawings. That was on March 19, 1960 at the Contemporary Arts Gallery, owned and run by Manuel Rodriguez Sr. on 1416 A. Mabini, Ermita. This exhibit was featured as a Cover story in the Sunday Times Magazine, April 24, 1960.


Shoe from his solo exhibition, Memory is Short, Cultural Center of the Philippines (1960)

Why in his gallery?

I knew Maneng Rodriguez personally and I liked the coziness of his gallery. At that time the Philippine Art Gallery was in decline for lack of professional management as Lyd Arguilla was out of the country and some artists warned me about paintings not being well cared for there. Luz Gallery did not exist then.

Did the Luz Gallery do a better job in caring for the artists’ works?

Luz Gallery was more professional but I felt it catered too much to a social elite such as Imelda Marcos and her Blue Ladies. Luz did a good job of caring for his artists, however. I never had a solo at Luz but when I next exhibited, I chose the newly opened Solidaridad Galleries of a writer friend Frankie Jose because like me he was a bit of a rebel against the establishment.

How was it like exhibiting during the 1960s?

The artist was left very much on his own to handle his own show including the hanging, cataloguing, sending of invitations, the refreshments and the publicity. It was very much a loose, informal system not like the professional galleries of today.


Recollection of Paradise, pastel on paper, Eddie Pineda Private Collection

Would you have wished that it could somehow be formal that maybe the gallery could facilitate the launch?

There was a need for professionalism in art galleries and among some artists and art critics. I wish the gallery owners would handle not just the launch and the publicity but also the sales clientele and the briefing of critics and media people.

Did you even make an effort in addressing your critics about your works being confusing?

No, I left the critics to make their comments then. Then as now, I think the artist should show his public what he can do, versatility being an asset; but it seems the critic and the public and the collectors expect one theme, one manner of expression. In the same manner, it is regarded as a virtue to be self-taught rather that to recognize an artist's period of study and years of training under established schools or artists.

But there was one instance when a critic, Ray Albano, wrote about an exhibit of mine and I disagreed about his views so strongly I answered him in print in the same magazine. It was a scholarly debate not a personal squabble. It’s a long story which I could recount if you wish.

We didn’t have a lot of art critics then and now. Why do you think this has been the case?

Yes, I think that is one weak area but now that I have experienced the Australian art scene, it is not unique to the Philippines.

What do you expect a critic to do?

A critic would best serve as the bridge between the artwork and the viewer. Empathy with the artist would be vital but some assume the stance of the devil's advocate. I expect a critic to create interest and understanding for art in general and for the artwork and artist he/she is discussing. Just like a good friend will tell you when you are out of line, a critic should also be candid.
 
You were also reaping awards at the Art Association of the Philippines. Was it a big deal to join and win in art competitions?

There were few opportunities to gain recognition and the Art Association of the Philippines was one of the few who acknowledged artists and their work, so to me it was a big deal. But such awards were only effective if one were consistently a winner and if one knew how to capitalize on it.

What happens to the artist when he wins an award?

From my own personal experience, awards do not automatically open any magic doors nor increase sales nor change the established opinions of critics and some fellow artists who champion their own school of artists. At most, it gives one a bit of a shield against the negative attacks of the nay-sayers. It gives you some confidence that what you are doing is worthwhile.


Man Dying, mixed media

In terms of looking at your body of work, how do we know that a painting is by Alfredo Roces?

I prefer to leave that to viewers, art historians and critics. From my very first show the critics have expressed confusion over my diversity. It is my diversity and versatility that defines me. For my part, I have absolutely no desire to “stylize” myself. I rebel against the art establishment’s pressure to package my art works like a commodity, ala McDonald’s or Coca Cola, for purposes of brand recall, just to please the critics and the art collectors. The problem of labelling, cataloguing, classifying into schools of art, and so on, belongs to the art historian and art critic, not to the artist.

You began your assemblages in 1968.

It started from my third one-man show held at Solidaridad Galleries in 1968. I used found objects meant to evoke some personal feelings and memories from the views. Not necessarily identical to that of the artist. This work may contain a serious comment or it could be simply by play or perhaps a bit of both. One writer, Sylvia Mayuga of Solidarity, January 1969 saw this specific piece as poking fun at “culture vultures.” But it is not pure play and satire, it is also meant to look at actual, authentic mementoes of the past, to stir the viewer’s feelings and ideas when confronted by these now discarded precious art objects of our past rearranged in a different format. In this work are actual 15th century Ming shards, prehistoric earthenware spindle whorls and an old santo, but there is also the contemporary crushed salmon can, and the modern abstract expressionist painting. So it is my turn to ask the viewer: what do you think?

Did you get any feedback from viewers?

Not for that particular piece that I remember. It is difficult to get serious reaction and reflection from my assemblage as the initial response is that I am pulling the viewer's legs.


To Liberate Mendiola Bridge (1970)

In 1972, you represented the country at the Paris Sud International Art Show. What did you enter?

Those in charge of the Philippine participation instructed me to submit only a very small work that could be hand carried in an airline flight. So I gave them a very small three-piece assemblage of objects buried in polymer, similar to the one that won an AAP Grand Prize in 1972 but with a different subject content. Frankly, I don’t recall the title nor what happened to that trio-piece.


Receiving the Pamana Award from President Aquino at the Malacañang Palace (2014)

What other art awards did you receive?

Pamana ng Pilipino Presidential awards for Filipino individuals and organizations overseas from Commission on Overseas Filipinos: 2014
Hall of Fame, lifetime achievement award, FAACES (Filipino Australian Artists and Cultural Endeavor Society) Sydney, 2011
Green & Gold Artist: Centennial of Nicanor Reyes Sr., Far Eastern University, 1994
Artist of the Year: Art Association of the Philippines (AAP): 1975
Grand Prize, 25th Annual Show, AAP: 1972
Philippine representative, Paris Sud; France,1972
Honorable Mention: Graphic Division, AAP,1961
Third Prize, Students Art Show, University of Notre Dame, 1954
Silver Star, Students Art show, University of Notre Dame, 1950
Harvard International Seminar (under Dr. Henry Kissinger) Grant, 1965
Ten Outstanding Young Men (TOYM) in Humanities

Are you known for any series?

I exhibited a series on martial law at the Cultural Center of the Philippines entitled “Memory is Short”. But by “series” I assume you mean painting a given subject continuously in an explicitly given form or “style”. No, I do the opposite. I take a given subject and come up with a variety of ways and mediums to give this expression.


Photo taken by his wife, Irene in their backyard with colorful parrots

What made you decide to migrate to Sydney?

With the imposition of Martial Law I could no longer write freely. The art world became stifling with artists favored by Madame in their glory and those marked as non-conformists put down. For example, my passport was withheld. I was not given an exit permit and could not travel overseas even when I had received grants from reputable institutions such as Yale and a Buddhist temple in Thailand to name a few. I wanted a better atmosphere for my growing children.


Cover design of a Sarimanok for Hemisphere Magazine/ Australia/ (1960)

Yes, but why Australia?

I was working on Filipino Heritage at the time. The publishers, The Hamlyn Group, were an Australian company so when Marcos opposed the project, I had to go to Australia to finish production from there to prevent Marcos from tampering the text. It was an opportunity to gain resident status and bring my family with me. I thought I would try it for a year or two.




Raku Firing, Sydney

When you migrated to Sydney in 1977, you branched out into pottery, did you attend a school or workshops for this?

I attended workshops in the 1980s at the Community Art Center in Belrose, Sydney where I studied both kiln fired ceramics and raku fired clay. But I do not own a kiln and so was forced to give up pottery when the community center closed. My interest in pottery goes back to World War II when we had to dig a temporary air raid shelters in our garden and as a boy discovered clay. I knew nothing about firing, but I loved making clay figures and drying the works in the sun. As an art student at Notre Dame, I was taught sculpture using plasticine which we then cast in plaster. I had an exhibit at the Kamalig Gallery of my pots, 1980 and 1982, and another of my sculptural figures at the Cultural Center of the Philippines.


Earthartwork at Terrigald Gosford, New South Wales
Sarimanok by Alfredo Roces and Rainbow Serpent by Kevin Duncan

Have you ever exhibited your pottery or other works in Sydney?

I have exhibited at the Watercolor Institute and other group shows. I had a one man show at the Philippine Consulate. Recently with three other  Filipinos artists we exhibited at the Arthouse in downtown Sydney.


Pottery work (1982)