F. SIONIL JOSE COLLECTION

Exhibited: Singkong Suka, First Solo Exhibition, Solidaridad Galleries, Manila, 1971.

ABOUT THE WORK

When the Solidaridad Galleries first opened its doors in 1967 on M.H. del Pilar street in Ermita, says novelist, (now National Artist for Literature), F. Sionil Jose, “it had a political purpose.” He continued, “As a nationalist, I wanted to put a Filipino face on contemporary art.” Sionil Jose rightly believed that the path to this would be through the new blood that coursed through the Manila art scene. Unfortunately, it was hard for the unknown painter, no matter how talented, to break into that tight circle. “Solidaridad was intended for the many young artists who couldn’t get into the Luz Gallery — Arturo (Luz, its founder) picked only those who had become well-known.” In 1970, it appeared that there were only two galleries that mattered, according to the first art book on the subject published by Manuel D. Duldulao titled The Philippine Art Scene. The gallery was an offshoot of Sionil Jose’s bookshop, established just a few years earlier but which was already a big success. La Solidaridad (or Solidarity) was the 19th-century propaganda movement composed of Filipino ex-pat ilustrados in Spain. It was headed by Rizal’s cousin but it was José Rizal who was its leading light alongside Marcelo H. del Pilar. The group, whose ultimate goal was to see Filipinos the equal of any Spaniard, also put out a newspaper with the same name. Peopled by heroes and such pursuits, Solidaridad also referenced Sionil Jose’s patriotic outlook and his own roots as a journalist. Even its address was historic. Sionil Jose is the country’s most prolific writer, first producing short stories in the 1950s and moving on to his metier in novels by the Sixties producing a staggering number of critically acclaimed and popular works over many decades, including the new millennium. He has also written essays, plays, poetry, a children’s book, non-fiction books, novellas and countless newspaper columns. His various works have been translated into 28 languages. F. Sionil Jose is both a cultural leader and a phenomenon. As a gallerist, however, he maintained that he had only one criteria for an artist to exhibit at the Solidaridad. He summed it up thus, “I believe that an artist should know how to draw, in the same way that a writer should know his grammar. It’s basic.” “But don’t get me wrong,” explains Sionil Jose. “It’s not that I eschew abstract art or anything like that. In fact, I was a good friend of Lyd Arguilla (the founder of the legendary Philippine Art Gallery or PAG, the first Philippine gallery to feature abstract art exclusively.) In the 1950s, as editor of the Sunday Times Magazine, I took pictures and I even had two photography exhibitions at the PAG.” The highly regarded Filipino expressionist Onib Olmedo, in fact, would have his very first exhibit at Solidaridad. “He came to me and I could see he could draw. He knew his anatomy. He could distort but he never lost sight of that skill.” The piece at hand — of a comely, bare-chested Eve in a forest glade — incidentally, is from that first show at the gallery. There are the beginnings of Olmedo’s signature skewed torsos and limbs. The milky white of the woman’s skin contrasts with the colors that are also ready to descend to the rich, earthy tones he would become known for. As for the mid-century female abstractionist Nena Saguil, “I knew her when she was already an exile in Paris. Of course, I never actually saw her draw — and I’d been in her studio many, many times and had never seen any drawings,” he grins. “But I assumed, since she came from the University of the Philippines (U.P.), she knew a thing or two about drawing.” “Nena and I were good friends. Every time I went to Paris, I would look her up. She lived very poorly, you know. But she didn’t care. You know, artists live where they think they can work best. Like Rizal, almost all Filipino artists become travelers. I know I did. It comes with the territory. In fact, I wrote Mass (the last volume of his socio-political saga, the Rosales novels) in Paris, thanks to her. I didn’t have any money at the time and she found me a cheap room near her own apartment to stay in and that’s where I wrote.” He continues, “Nena’s first major show was also at the Solidaridad. In fact, one Sunday, I got a call from Tato (Renato) Constantino (the influential writer/historian) who asked me if I could open the gallery for Don Eugenio (Lopez). (At the time, Constantino was adviser to the Lopez Museum.) He came in, went through the exhibit twice, each time very carefully. He wound up buying half of the paintings. Which Don Eugenio was it? Don Iñing or Don Geny — they were interchangeable! Well, this particular work that I kept for myself is from that show.” The featured works from his collection thus echo not just the glorious era of Rizal in Madrid in the 1880s but also the halcyon years of Filipino art in Manila almost a century later. One of the foremost figurative expressionists in the country, the late Onib Olmedo is best known for his effective use of distortion as a signature style in which the discrepancies of scale become an overall dynamic element in his works. His distortion, noted by critic Alice Guillermo, does not have the cubistic leanings compared to past neo-realists. Instead, it evokes a “quiet intensity” marked by the expressiveness of character and individuality, not just physical reflections and reconstructions. Olmedo’s painting career opened formally in 1971; his first solo exhibit titled Singkong Suka was held at the La Solidaridad Gallery. His early works during the seventies present everyday people through a humanistic perspective. This distinct approach also further revealed his authenticity as an artist. In this early painting, the modernist’s style is at work in bringing out the expressive curvilinear representation of anatomy and the general climate and atmosphere as background. This may have been one of his paintings out of his encounters with various people with colorful characte