CEBU, Philippines - It is a fortunate few that gets an invite to the studio of Charlie Co. After all, he is based in Bacolod City, which is not an easy ten minute drive away from Cebu. Further, as the acknowledged art master of the sugar-universe, it is a bit intimidating to make small talk to him, and the last thing you could possibly wangle from a person of his stature is an invite. But surprisingly, during an event for one of Charlie’s protégés, Charlie spoke up and extended the astonishing invitation.
My ears perked up, my brain started churning. Should I go? But of course! It is a no-brainer, because how often does one get to visit an artist’s inner sanctum, especially one whose works are being auctioned and snapped up at international art houses like Sotheby’s and Christie’s?
I make the necessary adjustments to my schedule, and manage to fit in the visit right before my flight back to Cebu. It is a hot Sunday in lazy Bacolod, and as we make our way through unusual traffic (there is a parade of some sort), rain starts pouring. I am not daunted. Nothing can stand in my way.
I locate the complex that Charlie gives me as the landmark, and it turns out his studio is also right where he lives. As I am led into the studio, I start checking to make sure I have everything ready. Camera battery, check. List of standard questions, check. Friendly smile on my face, check. I think I am ready to meet the great Charlie Co, the artist who personifies Bacolod art, to the extent even that his work hangs at the departure lounge of the new Silay airport.
Not only that, but Charlie leads Orange Gallery, where powerhouses Raymond Legaspi and Dennis Ascalon are stabled, as well as exciting finds Junjun Montelibano, Jay-R Delleva, and a host of other young guns. Charlie’s mentorship and encouragement, as well as his discerning eye, have allowed Orange Gallery to offer a steady stream of visual and sculptural talents to the jaded world.
Charlie himself greets me affably by the entrance, and leads me in without drama. I take a deep breath, and walk in.
There it is. His crèche. A treasure trove of canvasses. Hundreds of brushes. Pools of oil, wet and dry. Color upon color. I stand in the midst, and I have no other reaction but to try to drink them all in. Works half finished and on their way to fruition are up on their easels. Works from various periods, different years, variations of themes, lie haphazardly around. One could fill a museum with all the easels, sketches, canvasses, and studies I see.
Charlie gestures to the most recent ones. Marionettes seem to be his current theme of the year. He amiably starts explaining the genesis of each. There is “M/V Dummies,” which for him conveys his idea of a ship of fools floating away. Faceless, featureless puppets ride passage on the vessel, but hidden amidst the passengers is one human face reflected in a mirror. He explains that here, the artist became a mere witness in an imaginary world.
There is also “Mockery of Justice” where, true to stereotype, Lady Justice stands blindfolded, but she is surrounded by more marionettes, gesticulating, touching, whispering. Charlie lets us realize that under these circumstances, how can she remain unsullied by the outside world?
As Charlie talks, my eyes are drawn to an older piece, entitled “Carrosa China.” Charlie explains this canvass came from the Shanghainese series, and shows a lovely coterie of cheongsam-gowned ladies atop a Cadillac, surrounded by red lanterns, while a modern city forms their backdrop. I am afraid to ask its price. Charlie might name an astronomical number, and I will just be reminded how deeply mired in poverty I am. I am also afraid he will name a marginally affordable amount, and then I will then, for sure, risk breaking my bank account.
To maintain my economic sanity, I tear my eyes away and take a few bites of the delicious homemade bread pudding served by Charlie’s charming wife. I take comfort in the fact that despite my misfortune at never being able to afford Charlie’s works, how many people can boast about his wife serving them coffee and merienda?
Charlie relates to me that he multi-tasks. He doesn’t want to waste time, and so wherever he is, he brings a sketch book and just whips out ideas onto paper. He is also busy promoting young artists, talking to studios, meeting collectors (Charlie Cojuangco is his biggest collector) and attending art events. I tell him I had seen him recently at the Spanish Embassy’s exhibit of Guernica at the Ayala Museum, and recalled we had bumped into each other at Galicano’s recent show.
I then find out that Charlie will move his studio soon, as he is building a new home. Once that is finished, his old studio, the one where we are at present, will be no more. I take a lingering look around and am struck by misplaced nostalgia. This birthplace of so many works will soon be gone and once Charlie makes the move, a new atmosphere will be breathed into his canvasses. What sort of changes will there be? Will Charlie continue to delight surrealist/expressionist fans? Will he become darker? Or will he begin a new era of joyful explosions and giddy emotions?
All that lies ahead in the future. That, and maybe another invite – this time to his new studio.