Farewell to Chuckie

Afew months ago he had suddenly rung up and said he was having a book sent my way, and could I do something about it? I couldn’t beg off, despite already having so much on my plate. Carlos “Chuckie” Arellano was an old friend, and we had worked on books together, mostly on thematic artworks that were part of his extraordinary collection of paintings by Filipino artists.

The book that was sent turned out to have been about him. It was rather inelegantly written and designed, so that I told him the next time we spoke that it looked unsalvageable. He still said I should do whatever I thought would be necessary: rewrite and re-edit it, expand it, have it redesigned and reprinted.

I knew better than to argue with Chuckie: that it was already printed, that he should’ve had me vet it before it went to press, that now he’ll have to spend double if he wanted a second, improved edition. He had the wherewithal, after all. And maybe even more importantly, he had that streak of inspired lunacy, surely a gentle one, that I appreciated and shared in  one that virtually made light of any obsession.

From 2005 onwards, Chuckie had established a publishing company, Onion & Chives Inc., which came out annually with a series of thematic art books under the collective billing of “A Collection of Ageless Art.” Among these were A Treasury of Philippine Nudes; Different Faces of Mother & Child in Philippine Art; Structural Art by Philippine Artists; and Flora & Fauna in Philippine Art.

I had helped out in most of them, in terms of collaborative selection, Intro- and Section-Intro-writing, and text editing. As associate publisher, Nola Almario-Cadayona also participated in the art selection and saw the books through, technically and administratively. James Neil Viola served as book designer.

The selection process very simply involved going through Chuckie’s extensive collection of art already hanging on the myriad walls of his Blue Ridge B residence  which was practically a maze of add-on floors and rooms, as he kept on acquiring contiguous property just to be able to accommodate his unbridled passion for collecting Philippine art.

Nola also informed artists and art groups about the next thematic collection, so that new works offered for inclusion in the books could be considered.

The occasional gripe was heard from some art circles that as much as Chuckie had indeed a formidable treasure trove, he also had indiscriminate taste, allowing for numerous “questionable” pieces in his collection.

Well, artists who knew him personally were aware that the guy who affected the look of a handsome, hard-hearted rogue was actually very soft inside, or “pusong mamon” as we like to say it.

Many were the artists who went to him with tales of woe  a sick spouse, a child who needed tuition money  and had their proffered paintings purchased on the spot.

Oh, he had the requisite Amorsolos, Hidalgos, a Juan Luna, a Juan Arellano (his grand-uncle), Vicente Manansalas, Hernando Ocampos, plus Victorio Edades, Arturo Luz, J. Elizalde Navarro, Ang Kiukok, Malang, Manny Baldemor, Rafael Pacheco (a favorite of his), Larry Memije (another fave), Lydia Velasco, Phyllis Zaballero, Salvador “Dodong” Arellano (a close relation), Amor Lamarroza, Michael Austria, Tam Austria, Mario Parial, Philip Badon, Robert Balajadia, Rafael Cusi, Rachel Holazo, Al Perez, Danny Sillada…

Oh, and so many more  of quite a range, from the notable to the reputable, the journeymen to emerging artists. Yes, he was indiscriminate in his passion for Philippine art. But in the preface he wrote for one of his books, he explains more than justifies that weakness, if at all it were one.

“This latest addition to our art book series … should obviate certain comments and criticism that we have come across regarding our previous publications  mainly that of giving too much privilege to, or overly assisting, emerging artists, supposedly to the extent of sacrificing quality, or giving lesser recognition to the masters and better-known artists with already recognized talents.

“To begin with, we wish to correct that impression, although we may have already provoked a degree of sensitivity. Our primary intention had simply been to help talented Filipino painters who needed our assistance, especially at certain points in time.”

Last Wednesday, Feb. 20, this patron of Philippine art passed way at the age of 72. The first night at the wake saw a full house of relations, friends, colleagues in business and the government that he had served, once, as Security Service System or SSS head honcho.

The President who had appointed him to that position, his boyhood friend who had lived across the street and who had also been his fellow TOYM (Ten Outstanding Young Men) awardee on the same year, was there, too.

Joseph a.k.a. Erap came early to condole with his old buddy Chuckie’s only son Noel (only daughter Cherry was still flying in from abroad), and Chuckie’s siblings: Dr. Ma. Lourdes “Honey” Arellano Carandang, sculptor Agnes Arellano, and digital artist Deo Arellano.

Erap observed that they might not have seen one another for decades, but that he still recalled how the boy-brat Deo had been pretty good at chess. Deo in turn reminisced about how he used to throw mischief’s very pebbles at the Ejercitos’ large house across Tuberias. Honey added that Joseph used to throw rocks, just as playfully, at the street lamp casting a shine on the Arellano house.

Only one artist I knew came on that first night, although I expect more of them in the next two nights before the interment scheduled for yesterday.

Danny Sillada, originally of Mindanao, was so affected by the unexpected demise of his art patron that he offered a tribute on his Facebook Wall. And on that first night he made sure to come with his blues harmonica, and better yet, played it in musical tribute, oblivious to the rest of the crowd.

It brought me back to those nights in the 1960s when I hung out with the younger Arellanos, Chuckie’s cousins, on that double-lane street called Tuberias. It’s since been renamed Otilio Arellano Ave., after Chuckie’s father who had been an eminent architect. The Arellano property in that corner, our tambayan, also eventually became the site of Pinaglabanan Galleries.

Ah, memories. Again they come tumbling around like pixie dust or shrapnel.

 Kitakits, Chakoy! I’ll certainly miss the decades-old friendship, congeniality and camaraderie over a long table of fine meals and spirits, your baritone essaying fave standards on CD, or accompanied live by a pianist  in one of the many art-filled dens you had set up for the good life and the good art.