Volume 6, Issue No. 12
OPINION/COMMENTARY
/ News That Fears None, Views That Favor Nobody /
Our latest as of Saturday, September 28, 2024
~ Something that happens once in more than sixty years is quite a rarity. And that "something" was the one-man art show by esteemed artist Romi C. MananQuil. For it to come about deserves to be celebrated, as what family, colleagues and friends did exactly three weeks ago at Neilson Park Creative Centre. Then a spectacle of a sideshow materialized to diminish what the artist himself referred to as "the most significant art show in my life."
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ROMI C. MANANQUIL, THE MAESTRO
Side Spectacle at One-Man Art Show
Fly in the Ointment: A "Queen" and Her Handler
By ROMEO P. MARQUEZ
Editor, The Filipino Web Channel
TORONTO - The passage from Psalm 95 "a time to be silent and a time to speak" finds relevance in the unfolding Promethean odyssey of artist Romi C. MananQuil, The Maestro of Canada's Filipino community.
His shining moment exhibiting his best paintings in over six decades was, in my mind, being eclipsed by a sideshow that's totally irrelevant in this rare one-man art show at Neilson Park Creative Centre three weeks ago.
"This event is sort of very historic in terms of my artistic journey. For me, it's the most significant art show in my life," MananQuil says just before the official program began on Saturday, Sept. 7.
(Related video: Maestro MananQuil's One-Man Art Show Opens at Neilson Park Creative Centre - Part 1)
The emcee, Livvy Camacho, gave a brief but deep background while Michelle Chermaine Ramos, vice president of Philippine Artists Group, humanized him in ways only another artist would know. And then a guest spoke, and another, and finally, Consul Katrina Isabelle Borja-Martin.
The speakers in-between Ms. Ramos and Consul Martin were out of place, in my opinion. Quite notable was their brazenness. I ask myself repeatedly: why can't they just stay in the sidelines and let The Maestro enjoy his day without being obliged to talk about a past circumstance?
I know, I know, somebody long dead had awarded The Maestro a medal from his allotment as a federal official and because of that, the next of kin seemed, or felt, entitled to speak and remind everyone of the gesture?
I had no knowledge of which came first - The Maestro's portrait painting of the official while he was in office, or the conferring of the medal after which he rendered him on canvas?
And then the spectacle followed of a girl on stiletto heels wearing a sash and a crown as tall as the Eiffel tower on her head. Well, what earned her a moment to talk at an art show far removed from a beauty contest?
That scene, a distraction, continues to bother me. Something needs to be said out of respect for The Maestro. And that's where the passage "a time to be silent and a time to speak" fits.
If there's a sequence to be followed, and this is mine alone, the two other speakers - the "queen" and her handler - should have been kept out of it. An art show is an art show, not a fiesta of wannabe queens.
Consul Martin, who was appropriate for the occasion, was instead placed last, practically diminishing her stature as an official representing the Philippine government. (I must admit that I mistook her for a beauty contestant and didn't video-record her speech. I realized later that she was a consul. Sorry).
Her words mattered. What did not were the "queen's" and her guide's. Perhaps they forgot that her importance could extend as far as vouching for The Maestro to be honoured officially for his contribution to the arts world.
The Maestro has reached a momentous turning point in his life, transitioning from comics illustrator, art instructor, and graphic artist, to the fine artist that he is now.
It's a milestone that had to be celebrated, not with some counterfeit queen and her administrator trying to steal his thunder, but with family, art colleagues and close friends.
I've been fortunate to have been invited, for long ago, I wanted to interview The Maestro at length about his art works. "Tocayo," he told me during an earlier exhibit by the Philippine Artists Group, "huwag kang mawawala sa Sept. 7 sa art show ko."
Ever since I met him years ago, we've been calling each other "tocayo" because we share the most romantic name Shakespeare had given the main character in his novel Romeo and Juliet.
Romi C. MananQuil's art show comes once in a lifetime. With that, he's actually giving us a gift - the gift of creativity that can only be glimpsed in his paintings.
It's like he's restating what colleagues in the art world already knew - that he is The Maestro who deserves the respect and accolade of both mainstream and the Filipino community. (Copyright 2024. All Rights Reserved).
Hi Romy,
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this story on your Tukayo, Romy. I am proud to have been his classmate in UP College of Fine Arts Class’62. I am still an illustrator-cartoonist and had not ever dreamt of reaching The Maestro’s stature. He and the National Artist Ben Cabrera were my high-grade classmates.
I fully agree with you. There are too many wannabes among Filipino community groups. Nakakadiyahe. I suggest that the Consulate General initiate a short forum on protocol and decorum in conducting formal public events such as honoring a worthy citizen like Maestro Romi. Best regards, Sluggo Rigor, Seattle, WA.