June 2022

Dearest Tita Irma,

I hope you won’t mind that I address this to you. While we have not met, we do have a someone in common – Julius.  As “community-mates,” Julius and I shared a lot of late nights doing heavy lifting (literally and figuratively), concept-building and insight-sharing in the past. These occasions were always accompanied by food, laughter and easy banter. It was therefore inevitable that my familiarity with his praxis and the bonds of friendship strengthened through time. Thankfully we kept in touch (intermittent as it was) during the height of the pandemic and we were able to meet a couple of times during my last visit in Manila. Picking up from where we left off, it seemed like no time has passed. I am also glad that we were able to talk at length about “We The Living.”

This exhibition is another iteration of his nuanced approach to portraiture in order to push its limits. His creations may not necessarily be direct representations of his subjects but he captures their spirit and the essence of existence. Each work emanates from his conscientious observations, insightful reflections and subtle considerations. He invites his viewers to discover the symbolism, context and identity with each portrayal.

What sets this exhibition apart are his personal disclosures. Whether it’s because of the precarity of our current realities or his undeniable concern for you and his siblings or even an unconscious exertion to expose his own vulnerabilities – the collection is a testament of affection. Julius intimated that: “This exhibit is the first time that my family would be able to attend an opening after over two years. I want them to finally see themselves in my works and be able to connect with my depictions.”

These paintings are deliberate attempts for you to relate to and understand his practice; however confusing or perplexing it may somewhat be.  This is a purposive move for each of you to recall those images and the conversations that surround it. Julius has mined the visual data in your group chats to convey memories; replete with humor, wit and warmth. These are proclamations of life and love, ever so grateful for the grace and blessing of kinship.

Julius disclosed that, “My mom loves to send me photos of the plants she bought and/or sold. Jointly with my sisters, they use photos as conversation starters or as introductions to convey stories of how their days went by.” He likens these image-swapping to the “live-selling” trend wherein assets and goods are either acquired or relinquished. Essentially, the show is reminiscent of the “show and tell” occurrences between you. The visual narratives you exchanged during the lockdown impacted him in a complex and profound way. He transformed these random and absurd instances between all of you into exalted encounters that went beyond the idea of ownership or possessions. For him, these poses and pauses were translated into actions to depict proof of life and breathers to claim another day; each translation had the added comfort that you are all present together in some way or form. In his indirect and non-verbal way, the significance of family and its manifest attachments are underscored within each frame.

I am reminded of this quote from Oscar Wilde: “Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.” Notwithstanding if Julius agrees with me or not, I see this compendium as his self-portrait. It is composed of several elements that include you, Mej, Jam, Jem, and Julia; the people he holds dear and the moments together that capture the core of what he values.

As these last few years have taught us, nothing should be taken for granted… not even the mundane. Your son has indeed taken this particular lesson to heart.

My warmest regards,

Marika