A book project being prepared by a retired U.P. Diliman lecturer required my art and has me shuttling regularly to my former school these past couple of months. The venue of our first meeting befuddled me: Bahay ng mga alumni? Where’s that? What’s that? If you are not a regular visitor to the campus, you have a tendency to lose your way like I did. There are a lot more buildings, commercial establishments and even the traffic scheme is different from the one I knew 35 years ago.
The U.P. Diliman of the early 70s had more trees, more open spaces, less buildings and fewer cars. My school, the College of Fine Arts, was situated atop the Main Library, like it was placed there as an afterthought. Maybe the school planners then surmised that fine arts students are not too fond of reading books and proximity to such great volumes of tomes would inspire us to read more. Har! Har! As far as I knew, it was the only major course without a building of its own.
To get to our college, we had to go through the main entrance of the library then proceed to the left wing where a winding metal staircase brought us to the fine arts nest about four floors up. It was a source of wonder for me why male students mille about at the foot of the stairs while our female counterparts were already halfway up. Until I looked up one time and saw the undergarments of the girls. “Ladies first” quickly became my guiding motto as well.
The main lobby of the college was inhabited by a collection of life-sized replicas of classic Greek and Roman statues which our professors made us sketch from time to time. However, nude model sketching was something I really looked forward to at the start. You know, teenager’s raging hormones and all. But when you begin drawing a nude model, raunchiness goes out the window and you get engulfed in trying to capture the beauty of the human form.
Unlike our arts and sciences subjects, fine arts courses were conducted in a relaxed manner and seemed more like powwows. Most of us smoked, as did our professors, while classes were ongoing. Our ideas and opinions were constantly asked and surprisingly, we learned a lot.
The university sports intramurals was a welcome break from the studies. Although the fine arts team was perhaps the most underachieving of all, we were proud that our team members sported the longest hair. Our favorite opponent was the Conservatory of Music. They were the only ones we can beat in basketball. Their players were less athletic and had softer hands than us.
The late national artist Jose Joya was our dean then and he headed an impressive faculty which included national artist, Nap Abueva, cartooning legend, Larry Alcala, Agbayani, Bernardo, Chabet, Lim, Madriñan, Perez, Rebillon, Simpliciano and Valino among others. While other fine arts schools emphasize techniques, U.P. focuses on conceptualization and creativity, the very essences of art.
I was already working as a book illustrator even during my freshman year and on my second year, balancing my schedule between studies and work began to take its toll. I was forced to drop some subjects because of the pressures of work. I cannot quit my job as I was already a father at age 17. Sadly, I chose to quit U.P., transferred to a Manila university and shifted to a different course. I believed then as I believe now that I cannot obtain the same level of fine arts education from other schools. I would have loved to finish at the State U. Unfortunately, it did not offer evening classes for working students like myself. Whatever I learned during my short stint there, I still apply today in my profession.
Months ago, I was invited to be a panelist in a mini-thesis presentation at the U.P. Fine Arts. I was pleasantly surprised that the College of Fine Arts is no longer squatting at the Main Library and now has a compound of its own.
It had taken over the place where the College of Veterinary and Medicine used to be. Although the unfamiliarity of the present location was unsettling at first, you somehow knew right away that artists inhabit these buildings. Even the trees had artworks on them. As I toured the place unescorted by my former classmates who now compose the faculty, I encountered Artemis, the Greek goddess of hunting. She belongs to that group of replica statues we used to sketch and was my favorite subject. She now has a home. The College of Fine Arts now has its own home. I’m home.