Dr. Joven Cuanang welcomes guests.
All photos by Kiko Cabuena
THE weather was totally nuts—bright sunshine giving way to pouring rain in minutes—but that didn’t stop me and my friend and fellow writer Raoul Chee Kee from driving to the Pintô Art Museum and Arboretum in Antipolo on a Sunday afternoon, September 28. The performance of the country’s most celebrated pianist, Cecile Licad, at the Pintô Academy Auditorium wasn’t until 6 pm, but the Museum’s driving force, the venerable Dr. Joven Cuanang, our gracious host, dangled the temptation of Ilocos empanada for merienda, which Raoul and I happily chomped on, as we arrived well before the show.
The auditorium was intimate enough, but to our delight, Dr. C made sure we had front row and center seats; we could literally gaze upon Cecile’s face as she played. “Fantastic,” Dr. C said when asked how he felt about this wonderful soirée. This was the pianist’s fourth time in Pintô, aside from another visit to Dr. C’s Sitio Remedios Heritage Village in Currimao, Ilocos Norte some years back.
The pianist and the arts maverick: With Dr. Joven Cuanang
Cecile was likewise saddened that her dear friend and favorite impresario, Pablo Tariman, was sick, “but he is here in spirit, we were just talking on the phone,” Dr. C said. “This is a very important part of her project to be able to get in touch with communities other than Metro Manila.” The renowned neurosurgeon, former medical director of St. Luke’s Medical Center Global City, likewise considers the project part of his promotion of “neuro-arts—I am now trying to integrate my neuroscience and art, promoting the healing power of art.” During his welcome remarks, Dr. C. referred to how “music heals, especially in these trying times.”
He also gave way to Dr. Kenver Resuello of the Joven R. Cuanang (JRC) Scholarship Committee, who reminded guests that the concert was for the benefit of the JRC Scholarship for the Arts and Sciences, which currently supports medical students at St. Luke’s College of Medicine and the University of the East Ramon Magsaysay Memorial Medical Center, as well as six young art students at the University of the Philippines—a perfect example of its patron’s left- and right-brain passions.
And then, Cecile Licad walked in to thunderous applause, looking svelte in a flower-printed top and skirt and black platform shoes. As soon as she sat down at the piano, you knew you were in the presence of genius. I recalled when I first saw her, over 20 years ago, from a balcony row at the Cultural Center of the Philippines; she was a distant figure, but you could still feel the power in her hands and see the expression in her body. Well, now, we could clearly see her fingers, her face—how her eyes, behind glasses, closed or scanned the heavens, how she silently mouthed the rhythm of the notes she was playing, how her hair cascaded down her face, and how she tucked it behind her ear without missing a beat. I am no expert on classical music, but even I was gasping at how the piano turned truly grand at her whim, roaring or tinkling. When she went pianissimo, the notes were like whispered prayers; when she went fortissimo, the piano was big and loud and magnificent.
Ever-smiling at her appreciative audience
It didn’t hurt that the program was exquisite. She began with Ludwig van Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata or Piano Sonata No, 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 27, No. 2. I was familiar with the first movement of this piece, the Adagio Sostenuto, but was delightfully reminded of the next two movements so different from the first, the Alegretto and the Presto Agitato. Standing up after the piece to the first of many standing ovations, Cecile’s smile was genuine, as she put her hand on her heart.
Next came the epic Carnaval, Op. 9 of Robert Schumann, a piano solo of 21 short pieces representing a cast of carnival characters inspired by the commedia dell’arte. The distinctions between the pieces were so marked yet effortless, you could close your eyes and see the individuals parading before your eyes.
Dr. C with Raoul Chee Kee and the author
After a 15-minute intermission, Cecile returned with a piece I had never heard before, but which blew Raoul and me away. St. Francis of Paola Walking on the Waters by Franz Lizst was inspired by a legendary miracle, when the saint, refused passage on a boat, used his cloak as a vessel and sailed over turbulent waters. Most awe-inspiring were the complex left-hand passages that so dramatically evoked rough seas, before soaring to a glorious ending.
Next were four songs by ragtime composer Scott Joplin, which Cecile played light-heartedly—which was not to say they weren’t difficult! She went from The Entertainer and Rose Leaf Rag to Stoptime Rag, before replacing the listed The Easy Winners with Maple Leaf Rag. For Stoptime Rag, those black platform shoes were put to good use, as Cecile stomped her left foot in time to the song.
She took a marked pause before ending the formal program with the finale—unsurprisingly, one by Frédéric Chopin, Ballade No. 1 in G minor, Op. 23, one of his greatest and, supposedly, most technically demanding works. It showed, as some discordant notes and changes in tempo added to the drama. Naturally, the room erupted in “Bravos!” when she completed the piece.
Then followed three equally wonderful encores. First was a Rachmaninoff Prelude, chosen, Cecile said in her husky voice, because “my countrymen seem to like Rachmaninoff.” Then, at Dr. C’s request, she followed with Francisco Buencamino’s beautiful Mayon Fantasy, which paints vivid pictures of the beautiful volcano, as well as the drama of an eruption. Finally, dedicating the piece “to all I love,” as she spread her arms to encompass the entire room, Cecile played Chopin’s so-very-romantic Étude Op. 10, No. 3, which inspired the modern songs Tristesse (1939) and No Other Love (1950).
One of many standing ovations
It was a sweet, appropriate ending to an unforgettable musical treat. I hope to see Cecile play once more in the future—she remains absolutely mesmerizing—but I don’t know if I’ll ever get this close again. Also, she happily posed for selfies and photos with guests, her smile never leaving her face.
Neither Raoul nor I could sleep early, we told each other the next day, after such an inspiring evening. No surprise, then, that I’m still playing her music on Spotify. Like Dr. C said, her music is helping heal me—in Edsa traffic!
The event poster in Pinto
