At Home with Ramon Orlina: Life in a glass house

Here is where the glass man liveth: two rectangular structures in beige and gray adjoined by a steel bridge. If that sounds a bit like the beginning of a fairy tale to you, consider the location and zap yourself down to social reality. Ilaw ng Nayon Street in Sampaloc is an area that could be the location of a Brillante Mendoza movie — a place characterized by crammed houses, worrying entanglements of electrical wires, hurrying tricycles and men drinking gin bulag in the afternoon. The quaffs and quips are generous. But there is something heroic in the humbleness of the place. Artist Ramon Orlina’s house cum atelier with its contemporary design seems a bit out of place in Sampaloc where he has maintained headquarters since the beginning of the ’80s, but this is where the country’s foremost glass sculptor chooses to live.

This is home, the hearth of glass.

You could just imagine the noise of the precision-cutting, grinding, smoothing and polishing of glass done in Orlina’s studio every day, and the neighbors are good-natured enough (or probably so used to the hum of the soda-bottling company nearby, the incessant buzz of automobiles and the caterwaul of everyday existences) not to complain and take everything in stride.

“It stands out like a sore thumb with its distinctly bright colors and contemporary design,” admits Orlina. “This is where I work, and it’s very convenient. I have a place in the Fort but commuting to the studio each day — what with the heavy traffic — would be impractical.” Imagine, he adds, if he lived in an exclusively chi-chi Makati village. “Siguro, dahil sa ingay, isang araw pa lang pinaalis na ako.” 

At the ground floor of building number one is the studio where Orlina and his assistants toil with glass, buffing and polishing the material to meet the artist’s specifications.

Ramon Orlina has made quite a name for himself in the Philippine art scene.

“Even when I was still an architect, mahilig ako maglagay ng glass — glass mirror, accents, etc. Architecturally, glass as a material (comes across as being) very cold, but then I started painting on glass in 1975. Noong magkaroon na ng kulay, nagkaroon na ng ibang dimension. My subjects (varied) from portraits to abstracts na geometric, but all of them were very colorful.”

His first exhibition was titled “Reflections: Paintings on Glass” at Hyatt Regency’s The Gallery in 1975. Orlina had an auspicious beginning in the Philippine art scene: When he dropped off two of his works at The Gallery, stopped off at a restaurant before heading for home in Malate, a collector chanced upon the paintings a few minutes later and bought them. In his first one-man show, 80 percent of the works were sold. But his first forays into glass sculpture did not reap the same results, although he had the support of Republic Glass (now Asahi Glass Philippines) behind him. The executives at the glass-manufacturing corporation saw something in the young artist, allowing him to study glass-making techniques in their facilities, assistance of the company engineers and technicians, plus a free rein in the use of equipment and materials. It would prove to be a key moment in the evolution of Orlina as a sculptor. 

“I still give credit to Republic (now Asahi) Glass as the source of my materials for the sculptures,” he points out.

The art world started catching up with the glass opuses in the late ’80s. Commissioned works came his way —  including “Wings of Victory” and “Fertile Crescent” both in Singapore — as well as successful shows here and abroad.

Among his art awards is a special prize he won called “Mr. F Prize” at the 1999 Toyamura International Sculpture Biennale, Japan. Subsequently in the year 2000, he won the first prize in the Sculpture Category of the II International Biennale of Basketball in the Fine Arts, Madrid, Spain, as well as was conferred two prestigious ASEAN awards in the field of visual arts.

He expounds, “Glass as a medium of sculpture is very different from stone, wood or metal. It has the one unique quality of transparency that allows the play of light such as absorption, reflection, refraction and prism effects that make the sculpture have a fourth dimension — into the material which does not exist in other materials. This makes working on glass fascinating and challenging as I create forms inside, outside, and through the sculpture.”

More than three decades later, Orlina still finds joy in experimenting: creating glass sculptures in colors away from the signature green (blacks, reds and grays), as well as delving into new materials, textures, surfaces and finished.

He ushers us into the upstairs showroom all abloom with glinting sculptures on pedestals — abstracts, geometric figures, stuff that would look good in anyone’s foyer — as well as framed photographs (Orlina is also a passionate lensman) and perspectives for the “Tetraglobal” bronze-and-glass monument commissioned by the University of Santo Tomas (UST) on its 400th anniversary. The artist jets off to Thailand from time to time to oversee the work being done on the 8.6-meter structure of a green globe facing Polaris or the North Star while resting on the figures of two students (one modeled after — surprise, surprise — actor Piolo Pascual), a Dominican priest and an academician. Something about the way the globular glass catches light, reminding the viewer of the “glowing sun and rippling, flowing water,” with the globe being a symbol for knowledge both temporal and spiritual, obviously.    

“This is where collectors come to have a look at the finished artworks,” Orlina informs us.

He also takes us to his office and an outdoor space on the fourth floor where the family holds parties. “There is even an elevated platform for the band,” he enthuses. At most times he would have his assistants hoist a piano up there and perform for his guests.

“I studied piano as a kid,” he says, but soon gave up the lessons because his teachers were so strict. “I took it up again when I first heard The Beatles.” Occasionally, the artist would put his mechanical drill down, sit in front of one of his three pianos (his favorite is the elegant black Yamaha grand) and perform some random Broadway or bossa-nova number, or something immortal from the Lennon & McCartney canon.

“I could read notes (because of my training) but I just look at the chords because I like to improvise.” What did Paul say? Hey, take a sad song and make it better.

Glass Act

The steel bridge connecting the two buildings (the atelier and the house proper) reminds me of the blue house of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera as depicted in the movie Frida — you just cross the bridge and get from one Mexican master to one another. In this case, you cross the steel bridge and go from Orlina the artist to the more private Ramon.

“It makes it convenient for me to go to work, and for the children to look for my wife Lay Ann and me,” he explains. “Being able to design and convert my living and work spaces to fit my needs as well as my family’s needs has been a most fulfilling task.”

Everything is designed by Orlina himself, not surprising because of his architectural background. Plus, he and his men were the ones who constructed the structures and fixtures, using the very same equipment they use in their sculptural work.  

“The workshop cum studio was built in 1982. Some 14 years later I was fortunate to acquire two adjoining lots and transferred the workshop to a five-storey building that I designed mostly in steel and glass; for doors and railing, I used steel parts from a junkyard as much as I could.” 

Orlina enthused about his sound system, which with its sleek speakers and vintage-looking tube amplifier, looks obscenely expensive. Like those by the brand based in Struer, Denmark. “That only cost me P14,000,” he says excitedly, putting on a disc with Girl from Ipanema on it to prove the high-def sound emanating from the speakers. I swear I could almost hear the ocean breeze keeping time.

The living room and foyer is peppered with artworks by artist-friends such as BenCab, Cesar Legaspi, Napoleon Abueva, Nunelucio Alvarado, among others. “We just exchange artworks. Si Tiny Nuyda, he traded me one of his paintings kasi it looks like an Orlina sculpture daw (smiles).” Three of the more eye-catching pieces: a painted terracotta crucifix by Bacolod-based artist Rodney Martinez, a painting of tiles in pastel colors by Rey Rodriguez, which reminds me of a Daniel Richter painting, and a glass chandelier by Orlina himself.   

Then towards the end of the interview, Ramon Orlina — sculptor, photographer and Volkswagen enthusiast — takes a seat inside his showroom and talks more about family, about meeting Lay Ann and her family in Kuala Lumpur, and about future projects. He talks sincerely, transparently.

Very much like glass in which he carves his name.