My friend Honny

Some years back I wrote a column about reusing and recycling things, specifically reusing envelopes and the backside of sheets of paper which we get plenty of here in the office in the form of press releases, unsolicited manuscripts, copies of speeches and the like. In response to that column I received a very supportive letter–appropriately written on the back of a page from a report–from the dean of the College of Architecture of the University of the Philippines in Diliman, Quezon City. Prof. Honrado Fernandez said he too reuses paper and recycles a lot of other materials, as he teaches and encourages his students to use materials prudently, in building houses as well as in everyday life.

Several letters–all written on "scratch" paper–followed that initial encounter, and since then I have had the privilege and pleasure of many other encounters with Dean Fernandez. He quickly became my friend Honny, although he remained a highly respected figure, for not only was he an architect and teacher, he was also a painter, sculptor, interior designer, art collector, conservation advocate. His formidable reputation gave way to a profound respect and warm friendship, especially after a mischievous comment about my skirt with its "architectural slit".

Honny had boundless energy, and was always excited about one project or another–he had several going on at any one time–and was always eager to take on yet another project, be it a design competition or redecorating a friend’s apartment (he immediately volunteered to redecorate mine when he came to dinner a few months ago, explaining his intended design even before the first course was served). He eschewed the extravagant, the ostentatious and the flamboyant, opting instead for what was natural, real, practical and, above all, with a refined Filipino sensibility. He once said, when we were working on the design for an event, that he was the master of the minimal budget, and indeed, many of his projects are remarkable not only for their design and stylistic excellence but for their surprisingly affordable cost.

A few years ago, after he had retired from the University of the Philippines, Honny was named director of the Philippine High School for the Arts and administrator of the National Arts Center in Mt. Makiling, Laguna. He jumped into the tasks wholeheartedly and enthusiastically, relishing the chance to work with young, artists, training them, molding them, honing their talents. He badgered me endlessly about helping in the annual search for scholars, adding handwritten nakakabagbag damdamin (heart wrenching) appeals on the margins of his press releases, which occasionally came too with a little drawing. He extracted a promise that I would go up to Makiling sometime and teach writing and journalism, sweetening the offer with visions of a cottage in the mountain, clean air, the chirping of birds in the morning and inspiration from Mariang Makiling herself.

He was immeasurably proud of the achievements of his young artists, tirelessly spreading the word about awards and prizes they had won (and these were many), about their performances and exhibits locally and internationally. The kids at Makiling had found in Honny not only a champion for their art, but a friend, father, mentor, teacher, guide and, surely, inspiration.

Early Tuesday morning, Hony succumbed to a massive heart attack. Shock greeted the news of his death; he had been so full of life and living. But life, like art, is held by a Greater Hand, and the last stroke to the masterpiece that was Honny Fernandez had been drawn on the canvas of his life. It was a lovely masterpiece, and we will dearly miss Honny.