Raul Isidro literally designed his house by drawing chalk marks on the walls.
You see, when Raul and his wife Annabelle moved into that particular structure on Marian Lakeview Park in Parañaque, it was an old, rundown garment factory. So, Isidro hired a crew of 16 carpenters and started transforming it, moving entire walls, changing the floors, installing windows through solid cement walls. True, all true — though it may sound as astonishing as anything straight out of Dr. Seuss.
“We’ve been staying here for four years already. I changed (practically) everything,” he explains. “I drew designs on the walls in the morning and told the workers, ‘Ito ang sukat.’”
The Isidro residence has two living rooms (probably because the amiable couple loves entertaining guests, plus the fact Raul and Annabelle simply relish living). There is a storage area for paintings on the ground floor. The studio is on the second floor. And the bedroom is on the third floor with a majestic view of Laguna de Bay.
“When the house was finished, one of my friends wanted a copy of the plan (laughs). ‘Wala na… nabura nang lahat,’ I told him. Ito (points to a living room wall) galing sa third floor. Pinag-ikot-ikot ko lahat ’to.”
Raul Isidro, one of the most well-respected artists in the country, has built a career out of moving stuff around. In his case, shiny acrylics. Not surprising at all since one of the major themes he explores is about movement (both spatial and metaphorical) amidst immobility.
“For the past 41 years I have instinctively been an enthusiast of the earth’s shifting landscapes, terrains, territories, and environment,” he says, adding that his series exploring earth, rock, and landscapes are reflections of that passion. “My paintings of rock formations and landscapes, although mostly imaginary, are reflective of my ‘provinciano’ experience.”
Consider this: Isidro’s first one-man show titled “Lunar Series” held in ’69 at the Solidaridad Gallery in Malate was a tribute to man’s first trip to the moon, and his 40-year retrospective held last year at the Cultural Center of the Philippines was titled, “Mother Earth.” In between is a lifetime worth of journeying. Isidro is one restless artist. He is still the consummate experimentalist: dabbling in sculpture early in his career, working with abstracts with different textures and finishes, going into printmaking (where he produces figures of Christ, trumpeters, and lovers), and lately incorporating koi fish into his non-figurative paintings (inspired most probably by the orange and cream-colored fish that swim in his Lakeview Park pond).
Talking about movement, Raul originally hails from Calbayog in Samar. He moved to Manila to study in UST in the ’60s and met his wife at the pontifical university in one of the camera club picnics. After graduating, he taught art in PWU, eventually heading the university’s fine arts department. Years later he would participate in exhibits in major cities of the US, Israel, India, Hong Kong, China, Indonesia, Spain, Germany, France and The Netherlands, among other countries, as well as become the president of the Philippine Association of Printmakers. The couple, along with daughter Trisha, moved to the States in ’85, living in the Bay Area for 10 years. He remembers having a warehouse for a studio in San Francisco.
“It was like a freezer in winter,” he recalls. He had a tough time with his acrylics because the drying process took ages. Raul painted wearing four layers of clothing.
Like Santa Claus with a paintbrush.
The façade, Raul informs me, is the only thing he couldn’t touch. When he had phone lines installed, the lineman asked him, “Sir, high school ba ito?”
The interiors are a different matter, though. The Isidros didn’t change the original metal stairs that lead up to the rooms and the studio on the second floor — steep, gunmetal-gray steps at home in any modern house. The walls are painted with colors seemingly straight from the artist’s palette: grays and off-whites in wistful hues. There are monolithic abstracts everywhere. And the décor speaks of much traveling and souvenir-keeping: multiple Buddha figurines, a fossilized crab from Samar (which has been brought to the States and then back to the Philippines again), a Mao figurine, a ceramic ball created in a session with Joya, a dark terracotta Christ, artifacts from Samar diggings, various antiques, candles that have melted into sculptural forms, and a Charlie Co sculpture, among other things.
A dog figurine inside a steel air-con frame under clear glass serves as a low coffee table for the Isidro residence. The way it was put together is genius. You half-expect a graying installation artist to be living here: playing chess in the twilight like Marcel Duchamp, or explaining pictures to pet hares like Joseph Beuys. Not an abstractionist with the predilection for paintings that evoke everything Zen-like and serene.
Judging from that coffee table, here is a place put together with the anything-goes philosophy behind it.
Annabelle Isidro explains, “In this house, I want to show everyone that anything goes (in term of) decoration, and in putting things together. Raul and I wanted something informal, where we could move chairs around when there’s a party.”
From time to time she would sit down in front of the piano and play something extemporaneous, something lovingly languid. The story of how the Isidros got that piano is a song in itself.
“Eto nabili ko sa junkyard sa Blumentritt,” Raul recalls. “Patungan ng pintura sa construction ’to. Ang dumi!” He asked how much for it. The owner, wanting to get rid of the space-occupying behemoth, answered, “P5,000 na lang.” Raul haggled. He bought it for P4,000, plus free delivery. After restoring the piano to its former glory, the couple peered inside and saw its brand name and serial number. The piano was constructed in New York in the 1600s. That’s a story worth hearing again and again.
Every Color, Every Hue
“I started doing abstract expressionist art way back in the late ’60s after doing impressionist works,” he shares. “I realized that I enjoyed more freedom doing this to express my inner thoughts. I don’t have a favorite color. Whatever suits my subject, I develop gradually and spontaneously.”
There are prints and paintings that haven’t been exhibited yet. The artworks are neatly stacked upright; Raul suggests putting an old rug under the paintings so that paint-drips won’t ruin the wooden cabinets. There is an artwork by Sidney Nolan, given to Raul as a gift (reportedly now worth $7,000) when he went to Australia.
“In setting up a studio, please consider source of light, storage space and ventilation,” informs Raul. In his younger days, the artist once spent a whopping 26 hours in the studio, trying to meet the deadline for an upcoming show. He still spends considerable time at work. Can’t blame the man. Any artist would find Raul’s workspace ideal in setting up an appointment with the demanding muse.
Hard to believe that the studio formerly housed rows upon rows of sweatshop sewing machines. In a way, Raul Isidro is still sewing hues and textures together. Turning separate colors from tubes into conjoined shiny rainbows on canvas.
The guy’s a magician. Remember, he drew chalk windows on walls.