Objects of desire

Mistresses, says Jullie Yap Daza in her bestseller on the topic, are what Filipino males collect. The former, judging from Jullie’s anecdotes, in turn buy and collect condos, diamonds, cars. In the same way, an attractive lady of a certain age reveals she collects “boys, boy toys” and an artist friend (a male) confesses, “Sorry, I don’t collect anything now.  I used to collect boyfriends, though.” 

Top lawyer Lorna Kapunan growls, “I collect enemies and they collect me.” Gregarious Rotarian Dong Saludo (also a top lawyer and politician) collects things material and spiritual. Apart from paintings (Onib Olmedo is a favorite), he collects buildings — one in Makati, one in Quezon City and I bet several more elsewhere. He also collects spirits — as in scotch, whisky, bourbon, vodka, sake, mao tai, what have you, whose rich colors glow in the gorgeous bottles that line his den. And beneath the serious mien of former Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban is a blithe spirit. He intones, “I used to collect ‘Do not disturb’ hotel room signs but gave up after about 200 signs. Now I have a memorabilia room of judicial souvenirs.” 

People like things maybe because it reminds them of a happy moment or a loved one, or because they had always wanted something like it, or because it completes a set, or because it is so rare that few others have it, or simply because they like its shape or color. Some say they collect for investment even if they never sell.  Others are intrigued by the romance of old things — for whom was this exquisite baro’t saya sewn and at what balls did she dance the night away, who slept (or died) in this old bed, what happened to the little boy who once owned this battered schoolbook?

Many of my businessmen friends say all that they collect these days are receivables. However (at least during good times), the practical rich tend to collect houses and lots (one in Forbes, one in Tagaytay, one in Hillsborough — California, that is — condos (one at Pacific Plaza, another in Manhattan’s Galleria, a third in Maui), stock certificates (a selection of Philippine, New York and Tokyo shares), or jewelry (a set with diamonds, another with emeralds, a necklace of fat pearls).

Most just say they collect because they like it, and leave it at that.  Children bring home colored stones and seashells by the pail. Little girls grow up into doll collectors, shrieking teen-agers become Nora Aunor, Vilma Santos or Piolo Pascual photo collectors. Men collect everything from comic books, Batman and Superman memorabilia, pens and penknives, ash trays, book matches and chess sets, to vintage cars, paintings and sculpture, antique furniture, Tang, Sung and Ming porcelain, carpets, antique cannon, rare stamps, coins and medals. Ladies go for the same things, but more often, they like cute things like miniature pianos, anything in blue and white, or serious stuff like crystals, antique ceramics, jewelry and Birkin bags by Hermès (average of half a million pesos per). 

Owls are a favorite. Made of wood, porcelain, glass — what have you — large and small, owls from all over fill the shelves of Washington SyCip. Advertising giant JJ Calero, ex-owl collector, tells me of an Owl Convention in Europe and of how a friend proudly announced that he had 450, only to be hooted down as an obvious beginner.  Architect Tina Turalba is into butterflies — not live ones, but things with butterfly images on them. My own kitchen is practically a poultry yard, filled with the hens, chicks and a few roosters that my wife liked. Elephants are beloved, as bringing long life and good luck. Lots of people find pigs cute.

And then there are souvenirs. Who does not have wedding giveaways, photo albums, shells and sand — mementos of sunburned days at Matabungkay, Anilao, Boracay? What well-traveled Pinoy has not brought home a bottle of Lourdes water, a rosary from Rome and/or Jerusalem, teaspoons and key chains from wherever, scrapbooks with the last boarding pass and airplane menu pasted within? Somewhere in the house is a jarful of Pinatubo ash scraped from my car roof in 1991 and until someone threw them away by mistake, my daughter Mianne’s beloved treasures included a bottle of dirty water (melted snow from a Salzburg ski slope) and a bunch of dried flowers that were once red roses from a long-ago beau. You should have heard the screams of anguish when she discovered them gone.

Little boys sometimes head in unexpected directions. Growing up inside the UP Diliman Campus, Tito Kalagayan, age six, and his little friends made their Ford into a jungle gym — the roof was a trampoline(!), the doors were swings, and as a pretend airplane, seats served as a boxing ring, the windshield as a slide. (I can’t imagine how they got away with it, but Tito, now a responsible adult and an insurance broker, assures me it’s true.)

Anyway, Tito says he developed an interest in how things work thanks to his Ford jungle gym days. So now he has a car collection — two vintage cars, a 30-year-old Mercedes and a 40-year-old Volkswagen, both in perfect condition; two 10- to 30-year-old cars, termed antique, also fully restored, and two for daily use. (He was feeling low the other day; he had just sold his 1995 SUV — a classic, he mourned — although it was in good hands, an SUV collector who already had eight.) He also collects miniature cars and has more than 400 of them, still in their original boxes. Several years ago, Tito got interested in watches and other stuff. Now he has 200 watches, 15 antique calculators (non-electrical), 15 manual typewriters. He’s not too interested in cameras, so he has only five of those that you wind manually to take the next shot.

Academics tend to collect books in their areas of interest, but beyond that, anything goes. UP’s Butch Dalisay amasses fountain pens. Ateneo’s Leo Garcia collects things done by people you never heard of — Ortelius, Hondius, Kaerius, Bertius, and their friends, mapmakers all who died about 400 years ago. They produced maps with misplaced, misnamed, funny-looking and missing islands because that was all Europeans knew then of us. Leo also collects paintings by Lao Lianben; last month, the Ateneo Art Gallery held a one-collector one-man show, almost filling up the entire gallery with Leo’s Laos.

Entrepreneurs and professional managers sometimes like to unwind with their collections. The Lopezes began decades ago and now many of their books, Lunas, Hidalgos, and ceramics are in the Lopez Library and Museum. The Zobels funded and turned over a lot of stuff to the Ayala Museum and Filipinas Heritage Library.  Ambassador Alfonso Yuchengco recently inaugurated the Yuchengco Museum, giving many of his Amorsolos and Botong Franciscos.  George Ty and the Metrobank Group, Hans Sy, the Bank of the Philippine Islands have large and growing collections.

Many executives are following in their footsteps. Quite a few finance types are enthusiastic over old certificate of stock, bonds, old land titles, paper money. Greg Navarro (managing partner of audit and tax firm Punongbayan & Araullo) says, “I used to collect stamps and still have them — from 130 countries. I also collected topical stamps, those with flowers, birds, airplanes, people or monuments; independence commemoratives, etc. These past 10 years, however, I’ve been collecting paintings and sculpture.” From direct marketing czarina Vicki Jardiolin (the woman behind Natasha): “I collect big, chunky exotic trinkets. Cheap lang ako and my heart really sings when I get or find, say, a neckpiece from Bhutan.” Jeremy Barns, Malacañang museum director, says, “I haven’t collected much since I joined the museum, but I try to buy prewar Filipino landscapes and genre paintings by minor masters which can be very cheap if you’re lucky.”

Lessons that I’ve learned, sometimes the hard way, are not that complicated:

1. Foremost is to know your area of interest: read books and magazines on the subject. Get to meet and talk to like collectors — there are clubs and informal groups whatever the object of affection is.

2. Define the scope of your collection. Focus clearly so you don’t spread your money too thinly.

3. Aim for high quality and good condition. There is always a demand for the best (which is not necessarily the same as most expensive) of a kind. The secret is to define the area narrowly — the best stamps depicting butterflies are better than a smudged example of the best stamp in say the broader “flying creatures” category.

4.  Relax; don’t get carried away by a sales talk or pressured into a quick purchase. Make sure you get what the object is supposed to be — old and not new, copper and not tin, silver and not pewter, oil and not acrylic, Amorsolo not Amorseco.

5. Think long-term and be patient. It often takes years before the owner of some coveted object (or his heirs) decides to sell; just be on the alert.

One’s budget is always a constraint and one should not be so obsessed as to risk family and credit standing for some coveted piece. There are always interesting things that one can afford.  Original engravings and lithographs could be as rewarding as far more expensive paintings. Can’t afford Philippine Revolutionary Government stamps and Banco Espanol-Filipino notes? Japanese occupation stamp and notes are more varied and in some ways more interesting. Forget about landing Richard Lopez and Benito Legardas’ coins, Mario Que’s stamps, Larry Gotauco’s ceramics, Paulino Ques and Sonny Belmonte’s Ang Kiukoks, Leo Garcia’s Laos or Rudolf Lietz’s maps and prints; there’s always something fascinating that one can study and collect and whose value (hopefully) will increase nicely in the coming years. 

The enterprising can make collecting not only enjoyable, but also profitable. They buy something and at some point, sell hopefully at a profit, or better yet, accept some outrageously high offer they can’t refuse. Don’t get too attached to your things. Sell or give away those that you no longer like, or when something comes along that’s better than what you have. A veteran collector’s disposable is a beginning collector’s treasure.