Our Best Wishes

Art Conservation and Painting Restoration

I’m posting the lecture I delivered last week at St. Paul University, Manila. This affair was organized to celebrate the birth month of Carlos “Botong” Francisco and to share his life and works.

 
 
Today I will discuss a very timely and important topic – art conservation. I know everyone understands what conservation is, but our knowledge of conservation often dwells on environmental issues such as deforestation, erosion, air pollution and contamination of water and the greenhouse effect. There is definitely nothing wrong with that, if only art and art conservation were given more attention and importance as well.

I do recognize the efforts of government and private institutions, but we as private individuals should involve ourselves in the preservation of our country’s art and culture. Our involvement can only happen if we have a better understanding of what art is and how much physical effort and creative energies had been invested and continue to be invested by our very own Filipino painters, sculptors, potters, carvers, and craftsmen.
 
St. Paul University has involved itself in art conservation by restoring its Botong Francisco mural, an artwork that deserves a second chance. I salute St. Paul University and its community of sisters, officers, students and alumni for their determination to bring back the mural to its former glory.
 
What is art conservation?

Art conservation is defined by the American Institute for Conservation of Historic and Artistic Works, as the profession devoted to the preservation of cultural property for the future. Conservation activities include examination, documentation, treatment, and preventive care, supported by research and education. 
 
The practice of art conservation is actively implemented more than ever by many institutions around the world because it is less expensive, non-invasive, and easier to adopt in museums, art galleries, libraries, and archives. The conservation and preservation of art (monuments, sites, structures, buildings, museums that houses different kinds of collections, libraries, art galleries) is not only the responsibility of a few people. It is also the responsibility of the immediate members of a community living and working within that area to protect and preserve whatever form of art exists even at the barangay level. In fact it should start at that level.
 
It is a practice in many advanced nations to impose strict rules and policies related to traffic movement, constructions of factories, dumpsites and other establishments that can have adverse effects on important collections, structures, and sites. I hope this will happen soon in our country.
 
Conservation focuses on correcting and stabilizing an environment where an item or a collection of items or objects is exhibited or stored. This is accomplished by gathering data and information on several factors namely: temperature, humidity or moisture content in the air, quality of air, air flow or movement, light intensity and illumination, building structure, storage and storage facilities. All of these factors are studied and analyzed and a conservation plan is developed and implemented.
 
In the case of the Botong Francisco mural, many discussions took place between the restoration team and St. Paul University represented by Ms. Wynna Medina and Sr. Flordeliza Deza. The team checked the auditorium lobby where the mural had been displayed before it was taken down for restoration. We took note of the busy street along Pedro Gil, the traffic, the intensity of natural light and the quality of air in the surrounding area.
 
After a thorough assessment and analysis, objects are then grouped according to the degree of deterioration or damage. Those that are dirty and dusty are cleaned. Items that have been attacked by molds are quarantined and fumigated and the environment stabilized by the constant monitoring of temperature and humidity. Special machines such as a humidifier of dehumidifier may be installed. A thermo-hygrometer is also an important instrument to invest in so that there is regular reading of temperature and humidity. Areas that are positive for pests or insect infestation are referred to pest control specialists. 

Paintings that exhibit a certain degree of fading are protected from strong natural light by hanging curtains or drapes or are removed and displayed in other areas with a north-south orientation. Incandescent bulbs with low wattage or ultra-violet filters are used to minimize the effects of light on artworks, since constant exposure to light also causes paintings, textile and paper to become brittle. Light has a cumulative effect and the minute changes in an artwork are irreversible.
 
Severely deteriorated objects are put aside for restoration. What does restoration mean? Art restoration is an attempt to bring back an object or work of art as near as possible to its original state using standard and acceptable scientific procedures. Restoring an artwork means lengthening its lifespan. Its beauty is revealed again. Its historical importance is defined and its artistic value gains respect and admiration.   
 
A severely deteriorated artwork such as a painting can exhibit the following physical damage or alterations. These are:
 
1. A fine network of cracks or an extensive network of wide cracks
2. Dark spots or stains that are the result of mold growth
3. Blanching or white hazy colors on the surface caused by the reaction of the paint pigments to moisture
4. Blooms or the light bluish or cloudy haze on the varnish. Again this is a reaction as moisture is trapped under the varnish layer
5. Tears, abrasion and holes caused by accidents, improper handling, poor storage, or even destruction of the canvas by pests
6. Stains or water marks caused by accidental spillage of beverages or other liquids
7. Dents, warping and distortions on the textile
8. Flaking or paint losses
9. Aged varnish that darkens the whole composition
10. A weak and severely deteriorated painting support

On Cockroaches

I’ve been quiet for some time and I am truly sorry for that, dear readers and friends. You see I have been preparing for a lecture/workshop on paper which will be held in Cagayan de Oro next week.

I want to present a very interesting paper, so that the participants will hear and learn new things, things that I myself have not heard of.

My lecture focuses on the factors that affects the deterioration of paper and the analysis of paper degradation. These factors are environmental, biological, the intrinsic qualities of paper, man-made disasters, and natural calamities. But what I found most interesting was the biological factor.

"Biological" refers to molds, pests, and rodents. I will share with you some very interesting facts I unearthed as I did my research. Here they are.

Carpet Beetles
The carpet beetle can be found outdoors feeding on pollen and necter. They somehow are able to go inside houses and buildings and start a new life in the confines of man-made structures. They feed on wool, fur, hide, horn, feathers, hair, and silk. They can and will feed on linen and cotton provided there are food stains and animal excreta on these materials.

The life of a larva is from 258 to 639 days or almost two years. They wander quietly about, gliding over surfaces with their hair standing on end, wandering all over a closet or storage room, feasting on their favorite food and enlarging the damage to our homes and wordly possessions.

The adult carpet beetle’s lifespan is short, the longest being 40 days. This must be the reason why the adults mate and reproduce without feeding!

Cockroaches
Cockroaches or roaches are insects of the order blattodea. The name is derived from the latin word for cockroaches, blatta. The folk etymology of the English word "cockroach" is the Spanish word cucaracha.

A cockroach needs to be impregnated only once and will lay 300 to 400 eggs in its lifetime of one year!

It is one of the hardiest insects on the planet and will survive without food for a month. It can hold its breath for 45 minutes by slowing down its heart rate. So don’t be fooled by this ploy.

Cockroaches have changed little in the last 100 million years of their existence on earth. We humans have changed little all these years as well. Insects, animals, and rodents forage for food for survival, while we exploit and take advantage of others as we forage, accumulate, and amass material things not out of need but out of greed.

Tatay

24 September 2007

I’m almost ready to leave for work. I meet my art restoration team from Monday to Thursday every week to restore the art collection of the Central bank of the Philippines. But, then an unexpected downpour came. It was so strong, the water crashing on the roof sounded like water being poured from a pail! I’m letting the rains stop just a bit before I leave. So here I am writing, this time about my father-in-law, Jose Quinton Dalisay.

Last September 20 was my father-in law’s 11th death anniversary. Time flies so fast. I can still remember the first time I met Tatay (father). He, together with his wife Emy (whom I would later call Nanay, or mother) and their son Butch, came to the house in Project 4 to lend support to Butch as he asked for my hand in marriage. It was 1973.

I remember Tatay as a tall, strong man. He had a deep voice and he carried himself with authority like a judge or a military general. I was in awe of my soon-to-be father-in-law. He would later reveal the different facets of his personality after Butch and I were married.

I grew up in a typical home where the mother would supervise the children, plan the menu, go to market, and prepare meals for the family. The father, as I knew it then, should be attended to and served because he was the breadwinner of the family. My father was so. But Tatay was different. He did the marketing and prepared all the dishes with quiet joy and pride. He never allowed anybody to go near the pot of kaldereta, sinigang na baboy, pangat na isda, menudo, or tinolang manok. His tapang baka was to die for!

His fingers seemed to have a life of their own and knew just how much salt, pepper, and garlic were needed to cure the meat. In the morning the whole house would be filled with the delicious aroma of newly cooked rice, fried eggs, and fried tapa! The scent of crispy garlic and pepper brought everyone out of bed! Once in a while Nanay would wash and chop some vegetables, or Elaine or Rowie would crush garlic and slice tomatoes. Me? I was busy doing the laundry and watching over Demi, my baby. (That's Demi up there, at around three years old, with Tatay.)

Tatay loved to read. He would devour all the newspapers and whatever magazines Nanay would bring home from work. This love of reading developed his mastery of the English language at a young age. He would continue to read and read even though his cataracts blurred his sight. The cataracts kept coming back, so he just decided to let it be.

There was a small patch of land beside the house we rented while we were still living in UP just across the office of MWSS. Tatay saw the possibilities of this area and planted eggplants, tomatoes and mustasa or mustard. I watched him as he prepared the soil and buried every seed with tenderness and care. He would water the soil every morning and afternoon. When the young shoots appeared, he covered them with newspaper to protect them from the sun. He inspected the leaves and stems for worms and insects and fed the soil with organic fertilizer to make the plants healthy and strong. They were like his children.

The Artist in Me

It's 10:00 pm. I should be in bed watching TV, but my newly painted toenails need more time to dry. I have decided to write a bit, watch TV and let the nailpolish dry all at the same time! But the truth is, I need to start focusing and directing my consciousness into that storehouse of images and memories, hold a Chinese brush, direct my fingers to do their magic on a blank sheet of paper. In other words, I should be painting on a canvas instead of painting toenails!

I knew what I wanted to be even when I was small. An artist, that was what I would tell myself. I remember making drawings on the blank pages of Webster’s Dictionary and every available sheet of paper that I could lay my hands on. I would weave stories and express my thoughts through a pencil held by my clumsy little fingers.

Papa and Mama realized I had talent, and enrolled me in a summer art class in the Lyceum of the Philippines. It was 1959 and I was 9 years old then. Papa brought me twice to my art class which was on the 3rd floor of the building. The next time I was on my own. I rode on the bus, making sure my fare was safe in my secret pocket and that all my art materials were secure in my brown paper envelope.

Lyceum seemed like a huge building to me during that time. The corridors were long and wide and it was always quiet. This frightened me but I had to be brave because Papa expected me to be so. I learned to overcome my fears and later settled down and began to enjoy the class and art activities together with the other children.

That summer class was the first and last art class I attended as a child. Many years later, I found myself in a different setting and atmosphere when I enrolled in the UP College of Fine Arts in Diliman. I was in a new world! There was tremendous energy all around me. It was exhilarating, challenging, and exciting. I grew in every direction. My creative energies were unleashed. I began to be transformed into an artist, at last.

My transformation was gradual and went on even after I left the college. I finally discovered the mystery and beauty of watercolor. I was able to achieve that unique softness and transparency of colors with many hours of practice and patience. Watercolor is difficult to control and manipulate. It reacts in many different ways. It seems to have a mind of its own and will seek its own place on any surface. I have learned to direct its movement by understanding its nature and its possibilities.

It does not scare me anymore the way it used to. I had to overcome the fear that gripped me as I held the brush between my fingers. I had to be brave because I expect this from me.

The Joy of Mothering Ma and Pa

Mama was sick last week. She could not explain where and how she developed amoebiasis. Ma thinks it must be from some fat-laden food she bought. Pa called me one day and said that Ma was in bed with a slight fever. He said that Ma had diarrhea, too. That didn’t sound good. I was in St. Paul University in Manila doing restoration work with my team when I learned about this development. I left right away to check on Ma.

My parents are both 83 years old and they represent a generation whose experience in World War II brought out the best in them. They learned to be strong, brave and resilient in the face of danger,devastation, death and hunger. Ma and Pa were high school sweethearts. They were born and grew up in Iloilo—Ma in Jaro, and Pa in Pototan. Ma and Pa were in their 20s when the 2nd World War broke out. Pa joined the USAFFE and later became a guerilla on Panay Island. Ma and her family went hiding in the barrios where there were few Japanese soldiers.

The whole country was in ruin after the war. The wounds and scars left by the war were so deep, it took a lot of courage and strength for the Filipinos to heal themselves and to rise and build their lives. These qualities of independence, fortitude and resiliency are deeply entrenched in my parents and their generation. This explains why Mama and Papa refuse to live with me. They say they are still capable and fairly strong and could do things by themselves. And yet Papa called me to inform me of Mama’s condition.

It was starting to rain when I got to their place. I paid the taxi and walked as fast as I could so I wouldn’t get wet. We bundled Ma and Pa drove to the UP Infirmary. Ma was thinner and paler and a bit disoriented. I guess this was because she ate less and was sleeping most of the time.

I found myself at their cottage almost everyday, checking on Ma’s temperature and appetite. Before Ma got sick, I would only stay in the iliving room and exchange stories and tales with them. But now, I make it a point to check their refrigerator. I have thrown away tons of stale food, limp and rotten vegetables, and forgotten goodies that have lost their power of attraction!

Papa and Mama seem happy and at ease now that that this small crisis is over! I now prepare food for them every two days and Jenny, my trusted and efficient housekeeper, brings the food and whatever surprises to Ma and Pa when I’m away at work.

I dropped by last Sunday before attending Sunday worship and found Mama up and about, going through some trash and sorting things out. She’s getting there and the color has returned to her cheeks. Papa is as cheerful as ever, telling me stories about his invention and meetings with his buddy Rolly Rodriguez. I listen and I savor this moment of happiness with them. I hug them and kiss their wrinkled cheeks. I say good-bye and whisper a prayer of thanks for this gift of love that continues to flow from their aging hearts.

The Realities of the Widening Waist

I will dwell on something light and funny because I refuse to be affected by unhappy events. So here goes and I hope I make some of you out there laugh a little!

There are problems that refuse to go away, and one problem that affects everyone is the widening of the waist. This phenomenon affects men and women from all walks of life, race and age groups. Now, that should somehow make me feel normal.

It seems it was only yesterday when I could fit into a small-sized skirt and pants. I could even tuck in shirts and blouses and walk with confidence wherever I go. Oh, I still exhibit that confident stride despite the change in my anatomy, except that my fashion sense has evolved into something more comfortable. That means my shirts and blouses are more accommodating of my wider waist!

This phenomenon is exhibited and experienced by my high school friends as well. At least I know I am not alone. But I do say the ladies of my generation look more attractive and admirable now than ever before. Why is this? This is so because we have begun to shift our focus and strategy. We give more importance to our complexion, hair, teeth and make-up so that people we talk to will never notice our bodies. How can they notice our shape when we always wear dark colored clothes!

So, to my readers out there, don’t lose hope even if you have given away many of your favorite pants, shirts, blouses, and skirts to your nephews, nieces, neighbor, and your friend’s friend. You have choices! Go on a diet, exercise, change your beauty regimen, sport a new hairdo, or have your teeth fixed. But most of all be happy and thankful with your life. For a joyful heart brings out the best in all of us. Remember that one attracts good energies when one is happy. So be glad and rejoice in the knowledge that there are many others out there who have accepted the changing realities of the widening waist!

Trina and Netty

August 23, 2007

My daughter Demi designed a webpage for me a few days ago. It was a wonderful surprise. I was really thrilled and excited as I admired the layout of my blog. I emailed Demi right away and thanked her. “Ay, ang galing-galing talaga ng anak ko!” I told Butch. Butch, my husband, looked over my shoulder and said, “Now you can write your stories and adventures.” 

Today I will write about Trina and Netty—Trina the devoted daughter and Netty her mother who’s grappling with cancer. Netty and I were high school classmates and chums back in the late ‘60s. We shared four wonderful and fun-filled years at UP High School in Diliman. I remember Netty as a very pretty girl, who would fix her hair in a ponytail or in pigtails. She had an almost perfect oval face, big beautiful eyes, and a set of perfect teeth. She’s still pretty despite her illness. Netty was working in the US when the cancer came back. She decided to come home so that she could be taken care of by Trina and husband Ernie.

Trina is Netty’s eldest child. Her youngest is a boy who is fondly called EJ. I remember them as young tykes running around the neighborhood and Netty shouting to them to be home in time for lunch. The children would look back to their Ma and say “Opo, opo,” and then run back to their playmates, laughing. 

Trina and EJ are grown now. Ej is a musician in California and Trina is a freelance make-up arist. It was Trina who brought her Ma from the US back to Manila. Netty was very weak then. But miracle of miracles! Netty got stronger a few months later and we, her middle-aged gang, took her out to dinner to celebrate her birthday. That was in February of this year. (That's Netty in the middle, in the picture above.)

At the moment Netty is in a special clinic undergoing treatment based on herbs and plants. It is far but Trina is there with Netty, attending to her Ma’s needs.I could not help but notice the tenderness and loving care Trina would give her mother whenever my friends and I visit Netty. I’ve never seen Trina sad or grumpy despite the fact that she’s tired from work and lacked sleep watching over her mother, consoling her father, buying her medicines and other chores.

Whether Netty is in the hospital or at home, Trina would just go about as if everything were normal. She would tell Netty stories and would make her laugh. Every once in a while she would adjust the pillows that support the right arm of Netty that had become painful to move. She reminds Rhea, Netty’s yaya, to check on things while she’s away working. She’s like sunlight. She’s a whiff of fresh air and she’s a gentle song that soothes her mother’s pain. I would gaze at this young woman who was only a child the last time I saw her. Netty raised her well. She must be very proud of Trina. Will I experience that same joy and pride?

I gaze at Trina and I think of my own daughter so far away from me and Butch. Demi got married in April to Jerry, a very loving man who makes Demi laugh a lot. We chat almost everyday. It’s as if she were only nearby. Trina sends text messages to Glo and me everyday, we who are the closest pals of her mom. She gives us updates which we share with Mich, Babes, Tess, Lyn and Steny—the gang or the “Med Squad” of our high school batch (UP High ‘67).

I know Trina is tired but she will not buckle down because her Ma needs her strength and support. I know that behind her sweet smile is a certain fear. But Trina will not allow this fear to affect her because her faith in God is strong. It sustains her. Trina reminds me of my own daughter in many ways. They are strong yet gentle, sensitive, intuitive and tender. Will I be even better when Mama gets sick? 

PS / August 25, 2007

Netty passed away at 7:00 am. Trina was on her way to Tarlac with some needed funds. I was in a taxi on my way to work when I learned of my friend’s death. I said a prayer and a farewell to Netty and let the tears fall quietly.   

A Tale of Two Sisters

This is a story of two sisters whose love and caring for each other has sustained them as they struggle together, tackling the many difficulties and challenges in their lives.

Julita and Enrica Glicerio were born and grew up in a small barrio in southern Leyte to poor parents. They have an older brother named Roberto.

Life was very simple in Barrio Sta. Cruz, Malitbong. There was no electricity and the only transportation was a truck that would pick up copra once in the morning, or a jeep that would pass by at 7 a.m. Home was a small nipa hut with a bamboo floor. Their father was a farmer who planted and harvested coconuts to make copra, while their mother stayed at home to watch over the two children. Sadly, she died young and left the two little girls in the care of her husband. Lita says she was seven years old when their mother passed away, a few months after her Kuya Roberto—then only 12—left for Davao to work in a logging company. Enrica or Baby was four years old then.

The sisters grew up doing things by themselves. After school they would go and gather firewood in the nearby forest. They would go home eager to put down their load and play like any ordinary children. Lita says they loved playing bakya-bakya, tumba lata, shato, habulan, and skipping rope. Their lola who lived nearby supervised them and taught them how to prepare dishes and clean the house. It was Lita who eventually developed an interest in cooking and Baby learned to enjoy other tasks such as sweeping the yard and polishing the bamboo floor. They seldom fought but one chore they would fight over was grating coconut to make gata. They walked to and from school in their bakya. The school they went to was the only public school in their barrio. When the rains came, they would cut banana leaves along the road and use these to shield themselves. The banana leaves didn’t protect them completely from the rain, but the presence of each other provided warmth as they walked along the muddy road unmindful of the mud that stuck to their legs and skirts.

In 1970 Lita left for Manila to work as house help. She eventually found a better paying job after she learned sewing. The distance that separated them only intensified Lita’s concern for Baby. Since she had a steady job as a sewer, Lita made it her responsibility to send school supplies and funds for her younger sister. She continued to support Baby until Baby finished her degree in banking and finance at PUP. Lita eventually got married and bore a son she named Aries, a gift that brought not only joy but meaning into their lives. The years went by, with Aries being nourished by the love of his mother and aunt. Baby contributed to Aries’ education, while Lita continued to work as a sewer.

But in 2003, Lita became gravely ill, when her kidneys failed. She had to stop working, and now needs to undergo kidney dialysis thrice a week. Her body has become thin frail but the love and support that Baby and Aries give her strengthen her spirit. Despite her illness, Lita was given a job by her former employer who now works abroad. She cleans the house and prepares meals for the sons of her former boss. Baby and Aries live with her as well.

I helped Lita open an account with a bank where donations from friends and unknown individuals are deposited for her work-up. This was in February, and since then we have raised P40,000, but we have a long way to go. Help seems to be so far away. But Lita, Baby, and Aries will continue to pray and will not lose hope, for somewhere out there are people who will extend their kindness to them… soon.

If you think you can help give this story a happy ending, please make a contribution directly to the savings account of Julita Peñaflor at any PNB branch; her account is at PNB Cubao, No. 211-575144-4. Many thanks and blessings to you!