Art/Style/Travel Diaries

Confessions of a one-man book production team

It summarizes my life as a performing arts writer and impresario for close to 50 years

The author with his second book, released this month: 'You can still live a simple life at age 76 without losing sleep over a non-existent legacy'

Encounters in the Arts is my second book after my first book of poetry, Love, Life and Loss: Poems During the Pandemic.

It summarizes my life as a performing arts writer and impresario for close to 50 years.

Although I am a voracious book reader, I’ve always been a reluctant author, until friends started reminding me to put something out and didn’t give up on me. I decided to have a second book not to aspire to be a celebrated book author, but to document what remains of my life, such as it is.

In the last three years, I had produced already my farewell concerts in Iloilo City, Manila (at the Manila Pianos Showroom), the Science City of Muñoz in Nueva Ecija, Baguio City, and my home province of Catanduanes.

My last concert in Bacolod City was in 1999, and my last in Davao City, all with Cecile Licad, was in 2002. My last concert in Zamboanga City in the ’90s was with violinist Joseph Esmilla and the former piano prodigy Makie Misawa. My last in Catanduanes featured tenor Nomher Nival, clarinetist Andrew Constantino, classical guitarists Aaron Aguila and Samuel Asistores, and pianist Gabriel Paguirigan.

The artists I earlier brought to Antipolo were cellist Victor Michael Coo, Esmilla, and Cecile Licad again. I did my farewell concert at Nelly Garden, the venue that deserves the title of Queen of Heritage Houses in Iloilo, in 2019, and at the University of the Philippines Visayas in Iloilo City in 2022.

Almost all those farewell concerts ended in standing ovations. Then it dawned on me: It is time to collect those memories. As an arts journalist, I realized that I have written about the best and the brightest in the realm of the performing arts since 1975 for various publications

It was ominous that when I said goodbye to my concert audiences at Nelly Garden in Iloilo City in December 2019, more earthquakes would unsettle Mindanao, Taal Volcano erupted, and the coronavirus started claiming lives. Nevertheless, I saw the best, and probably the last, good production of Lucia di Lammermoor, where my favorite tenor got a rare rock star treatment.

In August 2019, it rained hard. There were floods everywhere. Air and water transport was cancelled. On my second concert at Nelly Garden, I imagined concert-goers wading through flood waters to get to the venue. But on the day of the concert, the skies cleared. There was an unbelievable audience reception for the then 12-year-old cellist Damodar das Castillo.

On our way back to the Iloilo airport, the cello prodigy asked, “You don’t look 70. Do you dye?” “Of course I do,” I answered. “I am not ready to age gracefully like Pen Medina the actor, Randy David the sociologist-columnist, and Jose Dalisay the fictionist-playwright. If I don’t dye, I would look like Methuselah, who lived for 969 years!”

But Castillo, now 16, and his mother probably thought I was invincible, doing a one-man job: promoting a concert, begging for funds, finishing the souvenir program, booking air tickets, attending to invitations and car passes, supervising rehearsals, overseeing ushers and usherettes, videographer, and photographer on the night of the concert.

What they didn’t know was that I had a hard time coping with the hotel room’s temperature. I got momentary dementia because I didn’t know which knob to turn for hot water. I begged the piano tuner to assist me. Many times, I lost my balance and nearly ended up lying on the shower room tiles, helpless like a baby. In my last concert in Iloilo City, I asked the clarinetist to help me adjust the air condition thermostat as I found the room temperature too cold. I again reminded myself: Don’t push too much and pretend you are 16 going on 17. You have to stop multi-tasking and leave the herculean tasks to younger people.

On the night I thanked my Iloilo sponsors, I also added that Dec. 7, 2019 concert would be my last in that historic venue. As far as my body was concerned, I was still productive, as I beat weekly deadlines for national, provincial, and online publications.

This has been my life ever since high school, as I religiously followed my favorite writers in my favorite weekly magazine. I didn’t know where it would lead me, but as I broke into national publications and experienced finally getting paid, I forged a contract with myself that this would be my life.

Never mind that writing, for all the noble things it signifies, is a virtual vow of poverty, and that doing PR is not exactly my cup of tea. I cannot write good speeches, and I am perfectly useless working in advertising agencies.

Turning 76 is a good time as any to start writing my memoir and collecting some of my passable outputs in a book. I get this reminder from my readers, from my editors, from Facebook friends and well-meaning acquaintances. But I haven’t taken them seriously, as I have been too busy meeting weekly deadlines and making ends meet.

Back then, I told myself that I cannot stop writing just to focus on a book that publishers might find strange. Who will read a book about artists and musicians when everybody is too busy texting, Instagramming, and Facebooking? They would rather do these than attend concerts.

Author interviewing renowned conductor Kurt Masur in Manila before a performance of the New York Philharmonic at the Cultural Center of the Philippines

But many artists, young and old, will always have fans and loyal followers who will die for their idols and get to know a slice of their lives through a book. Then again, I’ve always hated computing what it takes to fill up a concert hall.

I figured out that the first order of the day would be contemplating if publishers love music or the arts that much to bother about a book about authors and performing artists. I perfectly understand why they must think why such a book must not even exist.

I recoiled when a seasoned book writer told me how much she earned in her copyright, and how even rich relatives dislike buying books. I once volunteered to collect from a publisher for a writer, a great mother who wrote about her even greater daughter. When I saw the figures, I told myself that writing a book was another invitation to poverty.

After taking another look at my writing life, I finally considered writing a book even if it meant another chapter of a lifelong vow of poverty. Since I will not wait for months and years for publishers to decide if I would be accepted as a worthy book author, I decided to independently put out this book.

I am at an age when people think of leaving a legacy, and how they want to be remembered. To restate a cliché, did I make a difference? Honestly, I don’t know what legacy means. A legacy is not something that you keep restating in your curriculum vitae as you fantasize about being nominated for this and that award.

I love one artist in this book because she lived for her art as honestly as she could. She acquired a worldwide following without paying  publicists who would sing endless alleluias about her world-class status. Her fans did that work for her. Of course, she doesn’t lose sleep over awards, which she more than deserves. One time, she told me, “Pablo, if you nominate me for that award, I’ll shoot you.”

In my book, you earn what you deserve not by keeping a stable of publicists and public relations practitioners whose pronouncements are predictable. It is tragic that when the presence of a National Artist is announced in a big gathering, no less than 20 people can connect to his art and life. To be sure, the musicologists love him, but he produces the kind of music that could be considered edifying only by people running after a doctoral degree.

What I am saying is that you can still live a simple life at age 76 without losing sleep over a non-existent legacy. A legacy is something that your followers will remember of the person as an artist and human being. A legacy is a memory of good concerts, a good book, or an unforgettable film that elevated you beyond your mortal self.

A life simply lived is reflected in what I write, not in how I am expected to behave during my lifetime. I’ve had my good moments and bad ones, even tragic ones, too. But as the wise men say, there is no such thing as a perfect human being. I can fall, stumble, and only then can I bring myself back to living a borrowed life. Yes, Encounters in the Arts sums up my life in the last 76 years. Happy New Year!

The author with book editor Elizabeth Lolarga and good friend, pianist Cecile Licad

(Encounters in the Arts is released in January 2025. With an introduction by writer Jose Dalisay, the book has 586 pages of profiles and reportage on the country’s leading artists from music, opera, literature and cinema. Leading the personages in music are Cecile Licad, Gary Graffman, Luciano Pavarotti, Jose Carreras, Andrea Bocelli, Nelly Miricioiu, Lucio San Pedro, Francisco Feliciano, Ramon Santos, Otoniel Gonzaga, Arthur Espiritu, Vladimir Spivakov, Kurt Masur, Gerard Salonga, Helen Quach, Rowena Arrieta, Nena del Rosario Villanueva, Lucrecia Kasilag, Redentor Romero, Basilio Manalo, and Luis Valencia, among others. The theater personalities in the book are Zeneida Amador, Baby Barredo, Lea Salonga, Behn Cervanes, and Nora Aunor, among others.      In his second book, Tariman recalls first encounters with Lino Brocka, Ishmael Bernal, Peque Gallaga, John Lloyd Cruz, Marilou Diaz-Abaya, Ricky Lee, Joel Lamangan, Brilliante Mendoza, Cherie Gil, Pen Medina, John Arcilla and Paul Cedrick Juan. In the literary section of the book are Kerima Polotan Tuvera, Carmen Guerrero Nakpil, Gilda Cordero Fernando, Angela Manalang Gloria, Marra Lanot, and Pete Lacaba. Leading the personages in the category of cultural heroes are Zenaida “Nedy” R. Tantoco, CambodianPrince Sisowath Ravivaddhana Monipong who was involved in the Manila production of Turandot, Science City of Munoz Vice-Mayor Nestor Alvarez and the Bicolano renaissance man, Everardo Napay. The two piano tuners of Cecile Licad, Danny Lumabi and Alexander Comoda, are also profiled in the book. The dance icons are Natalia Makarova, Maya Plisetskaya, Patrick Bissell, Manila Barredo, Nonoy Froilan, Nicolas Pacana, Alice Reyes, Agnes Locsin, Tita Radaic, Shirley Halili-Cruz, Denise Parungao, Vella Damian, and Perry Sevidal, among others.  The new generations of artists are represented by Nilo Alcala, Stefanie Quintin, Diomedes Saraza, Jr.  Andrew Constantino, Jeanne Marquez, Jason Marquez, Aaron Aguila, Samuel Asistores and Adrik Cristobal, among others. In his advance notice on the book, columnist Randy David and professor emeritus of sociology, University of the Philippines, said: “No one knows the Philippine  performing arts scene inside out better than Pablo Tariman. For almost half a century, Pablo has been a tireless chronicler of some of the country’s most memorable artistic happenings. Artists implicitly trust him because he understands their needs and their vulnerabilities. He listens; he doesn’t judge. He remains in awe of how they balance the demands of their artistry with the exigencies of their lives as ordinary mortals. This book attests to the author’s sharpness as an observer of the arts and empathy as a human being.” Copy editor of the book is Elizabeth Lolarga and book, cover design, and layout are by Jennifer Patricia Cariño with cover photo by Patrick Diokno and author’s photo by Richard Sy-Facunda.  Date of book launching will be announced soon.  To get advance copies of the book, call tel. no 0906-5104270 or email: artsnewsservice@gmail.com).

About author

Articles

He’s a freelance journalist who loves film, theater and classical music. Known as the Bard of Facebook for his poems that have gone viral on the internet, he is author of a first book of poetry, Love, Life and Loss – Poems During the Pandemic and was one of 160 Asian poets in the Singapore-published anthology, The Best Asian Poetry 2021-22. An impresario on the side, he is one of the Salute awardees of Philippines Graphic Magazine during this year’s Nick Joaquin Literary Awards. His poem, Ode to Frontliners, is now a marker at Plaza Familia in Pasig City unveiled by Mayor Vico Sotto December 30, 2020.

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