At last, Patis Tesoro exhibits her art and fabrics

For the first time, Patis Tesoro exhibits her extensive textile art and illustrations in ‘Busisi’ at Finale Gallery. (Photo by T. San Juan)

Whether it’s building a house out of salvaged architectural pieces or sewing scraps of woven fabric into a tapestry, designer and artist Beatriz “Patis” Tesoro always finds a way to turn bits and pieces into a flamboyant creation.

Tucked away in a mini forest, her houses in San Pablo, Laguna, are a mishmash of antique lattice capiz windows, cutwork transoms, and balusters from different ancestral homes, enlivened by the trompe l’oeil of flora and fauna and made-in-China pattern tiles. Similarly, she turns the ordinary house dress into a collage of retasos, appliqués and embroidery.

Living amid hardwood and fruit trees, dense vegetation, flowering shrubs, herbs, collectors’ plants, and stone sculptures, Patis treats nature as an archive of inspiration and a palette of patterns, colors, textures, and motifs. The tropical landscape, the intense sunlight, and the saturated colors of the flowers inform the moods of her colored illustrations.

Through the years, she has been expressing an idyllic tropical life in illustrations of brown faces amid an outburst of imaginary flowers, using colored pencils and pentel pen on handmade paper. Tesoro has been working also with artisans—the embroiderers of Lumban, piña weavers of Aklan, and the workers in her own atelier, to piece together tapestries.

Closeup of Patis Tesoro’s handmade fabric art (Photo by T. San Juan)

Closeup of Patis Tesoro’s fabric art

In 2019, Evita Sarenas, founder of Finale Art File, consolidated over 130 pieces of Patis’ fabric tapestries and artwork for an exhibit. However, the intermittent lockdowns prevented the gallery from putting up the Patis’ collection. As restrictions ease, Patis’ exhibit will finally be shown from March 11 to April 2 at Finale (Pasong Tamo Extension in Makati).

Its title Busisi (meticulous or fastidious) pays homage to the meticulous handwork of artisans and Patis’ painstakingly-colored illustrations.

“I’ve always wanted to become an artist. I dreamed of going to Florence to study and draw like Michaelangelo, like in his Creation of Adam,” said Patis in an informal preview in the gallery. Dressed in her signature kimona and drawstring pants, combining bold stripes and vivid florals, she was unapologetic about the little tatters in her chemise blouse.

Visually conceptualized by production designer Gino Gonzales, Busisi will present Patis Tesoro as a visual and textile artist and a proponent of native craft.

‘It’s about time young people knew about fabric, embroidery, and other Filipino materials’

“It’s about time young people knew about fabric, embroidery, and other Filipino materials. Most of my clients are young, and they don’t know these. When we visited Lumban, only a few embroiderers were left. It’s like a dying art,” Sarenas explained the exhibit’s raison d’etre.

Tesoro with her fabric art (Photo by T. San Juan)

Imperfection has always been a part of Patis’ aesthetics. In her tapestries, she celebrates fading colors, frayed edges, and other flaws by juxtaposing them with appliqués. Ratty piña fabric from Aklan has been used as tapestry backing. The story goes that an embroiderer dreamt of the design, then did the stitching. Likewise, Patis has noted how artisans find a way to conceal holes in the fabric through floral appliqués and beadwork.

Callado embroidery, an intricate technique that is a specialty in Lumban, is the highlight of another tapestry. It features diamond patterns of open threadwork.

It takes a year to produce this type of embroidery in Lumban, which makes it more expensive than the fabric from Taal, Batangas. However, the prices of Lumban embroidery have slid as its tradition vanishes gradually, according to Patis.

The Mindanao-inspired tapestries are patchworks of faded and overused malong and langkit, the geometric-pattern woven fabric strips from the Maranao.

Patis upcycles fabric upholstery and creates the illusion of luxurious brocade

Patis upcycles fabric upholstery by cutting it into organic shapes and handstitching them together and using batik patterns to create the illusion of luxurious brocade.

Says US-based cultural researcher Sandra Castro-Baker: “Her tapestry, as in most of her works, are exuberant with bright colors. She uses appliqué to create a collage of fabric scraps, many of which are formed into floral patterns. Embroidery stitches are overlaid and also applied to negative space to unify the entire work and to provide strength to the material, perhaps for hanging.”

Handpainted fabric art in Patis Tesoro collection (Photo by T. San Juan)

Patis Tesoro’s textile tapestry

Patis Tesoro’s textile tapestry

Patis began doing illustrations in 2015 after her husband, Tito Tesoro, died of complications from diabetes. Theirs had been a tight marriage of 45 years, as friends of the couple knew so well. From the family home in San Juan, Metro Manila, she moved to San Pablo and turned their weekend home into her permanent residence and atelier. She turned to art to deal with her grief.

Like Mexican folk art paintings, Patis’ colored illustrations are celebrations of color, nature and religion. Unlike other artisans who portray Caucasian features, however, she favors brown faces and flat noses and the third eye on the forehead. She gives the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe a native context by drawing her in a baro’t saya

The peony which the Chinese consider the flower of royalty is a recurring motif. “Flowers give me pleasure,” said Patis, “For me, abstraction tends to be bland.”

For these illustrations, Gonzales designed the frames that echo the motifs and colors of Patis’ art. The other frames, done by her assistant, Raymond Cruz (a.k.a Madonna), are as vividly patterned as Asian lacquerware.

The most personal among her works is the impressionistic artwork depicting her late son, Jose Manuel or Joel

The most personal among her works is the impressionistic artwork depicting her late son, Jose Manuel or Joel, composed with the third eye and a dove. Joel was an achiever at Harvard Law School and Yale University. In 2008, while in transit at the Hong Kong International Airport, he jumped to his death.

Patis explained that the third eye symbolizes his Indonesian widow, Tanya Fajar, while the dove represents his daughter, Paloma. “The shaded glasses symbolize the way he saw the world, which was different from us,” said Patis.

The 71-year-old artist hopes that the exhibit raises the funds to support the artisans whose livelihood suffered in the pandemic. The cancellation of social events disrupted the livelihood of weavers and embroiderers, she said. “These traditions will die unless we do something. That’s why I ventured into recycled tapestries and art. There are a few occasions to wear fancy clothes, but more time to stay at home and enjoy art.”

Patis recalled that she was first exposed to embroidery at Assumption Iloilo at age five. The craft was taught in class and sparked her interest. “Our only entertainment in the mid-‘50s was embroidery.”

She went to Marygrove College in Michigan, where she took up art education. Upon the death of her mother, she came home and enrolled at Maryknoll (now Miriam College). She never got to finish school as she married Tito, a lawyer and scion of the iconic Tesoro’s, the pioneering handicrafts firm.

As a young housewife and mother, Patis pursued her interest in handwork and took up crocheting. In the ‘70s, she applied as supplier of terno separates for ShoeMart (as SM was called then) resident designer Jean Margaret Goulbourn.

Inspired by a Malboro ad of a girl wearing a voile blouse, Patis went on to provide local voile clothes for the JM Goulbourn label. Eventually, she opened her dress shop.

“I didn’t know anybody because I came from ready-to-wear. By word of mouth, clients started coming,” she said. When women complained about the poor fit of her clothes, Patis enrolled at Madonna School of Fashion. “I know the principles of cutting, but I don’t like sewing. You need to know how to cut to make patterns,” she said.

Patis followed her passion by pursuing hand embroidery. Her mother-in-law, Salud, who founded Tesoro’s with her husband Nestor, provided her an embroiderer from Bulacan who specialized in machine embroidery.

When Casa Manila, a living museum of 19^th century ilustrado lifestyle, was launched in the ‘80s in Intramuros, its patron, Don Conrado “Ado” Escudero, advocated the revival of Filipiniana dressing. Guests would wear the terno, the baro’t saya and the barong to Casa Manila events. Patis became a close friend of Don Ado, as the hacendero from Quezon was known.

After the 1986 Edsa People Power Revolution, educator and culture proponent Lourdes Montinola brought to Patis’ attention the fact that the piña tradition was endangered. “We wanted to do something to preserve the piña, but without being involved with government,” she said.

They approached Amelita “Ming” Ramos, even before she became First Lady, to lend gravitas to their advocacy.

“We started the Katutubong Filipino Foundation, which focused not only on the revival of piña but also on the conservation of natural dyes and Itneg weaving. Ming became the president,” said Patis.

Escudero formed the Patrones de Casa Manila which led the move for the preservation of piña. The departments of Agriculture and Trade and Industry supported the program.

“I didn’t focus on my business during Ramos’ term. I went to farmers to organize piña farming. When piña became available, the patrones started dressing up in Filipiniana. We raised money to fund the planting of piña. We initiated the propagation of the red piña variety,” she said.

Her involvement with Casa Manila spurred her to promote Filipiniana dressing, embellished with embroidery, beadwork, and appliqués in order to preserve cultural traditions.

“Today, my focus is on bohemian clothes. They are easy to clean and wearable for the market or home. I want to promote the Filipiniana that can be worn at home as a duster or a kimona top,” said Patis.