Looking through windows

THIS WEEK’S WINNER

MANILA, Philippines - Marieta R. Manza is a faculty member of the Pamantasan ng Cabuyao and serves as head of the university’s Center for External Linkages. She is the Philippine correspondent of ArtMalaysia, an art magazine whose publishing office is based in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. 

But we must learn to look with more than just our eyes and listen with more than just our ears, for the sounds are sometimes faint and the sights sometimes far away. We must be aware, at all times and in all places, because windows are everywhere, and at any time we may find one. Or one may find us. Though we will hardly know it…unless we are searching for Him who for so long has been searching for us.

This is an excerpt from the book Windows of the Soul by Ken Gire, a book that has influenced me to look at things in a different way, to see beyond what my eyes normally see and what my ears normally hear. This was the same thought that reverberated in my mind as I moved around Batanes with my friend Nelzo.

I had dreamt of going to this paradise island since I saw an angelic Ivatan choir performance many years ago. While the young Ivatan kids’ melodious voices filled the auditorium, breathtaking images of picturesque Batanes flashed in the background. That very instance I fell in love with Batanes. I promised myself I would go there someday. That dream was finally fulfilled. Recently, I explored my dream island with my friend Nelzo, a pure-blooded Ivatan who graciously toured me around the island.

As Ken Gire’s Windows of the Soul taught me, I looked beyond what I was seeing. There were a lot of windows in Batanes. Literal windows of those Ivatan stone houses that offered various views into the amazing sceneries of the place, its culture and people. Particularly, one window allowed me to peek through the memories of the world-famous Filipino artist, Pacita Abad, whose story I wrote for a Malaysian magazine.

Windows of the Soul helped me understand artists better. One particular story in the book that struck me tells of how the author Ken Gire first encountered Vincent van Gogh through the painting entitled “Irises.” Gire was not impressed and even wondered how such a painting cost so much. But Don Maclean’s song — “now I understand, what you tried to say to me; how you suffered for your sanity; how you tried to set them free, they would not listen, they did not know how; perhaps they’ll listen now,” inspired him to look beyond.

He discovered that Vincent, the son of a pastor, tried to follow in the footsteps of his father, and even went to the remotest parts of London to preach to the poorest of the poor. “And so he became an evangelist, and he went to a mining district and told the people the story of the gospel.” However, because of his temperament and zeal, he was terminated from his ministry position causing him to embark on his journey as an artist.

“I want to do drawings which touch some people…in either figure or landscape I should wish to express, not sentimental melancholy, but serious sorrow. I want to progress so far that people will say of my work, he feels deeply, he feels tenderly.” This was what Vincent wanted to express in all his paintings.

No one seemed to understand what Vincent tried to say in his paintings. Through years of rejection, loneliness and depression, Vincent’s mental state deteriorated along with his spiritual life. He was admitted to an asylum, where, as part of his own therapy, he painted “Irises.” which Gire took for granted when he first saw it.

In the asylum, Vincent regained his sanity, but only for a time.  It was distressing though, that later, after so many frustrations, the artist shot himself in the cornfields. His last words were “La tristesse durea (The sadness will never go away).”

I admire Gire’s sharp insight when he said he saw through Vincent something of the great artist of souls — Jesus. “Christ, said Van Gogh, is more of an artist; He works in the living spirit and the living flesh. He makes men instead of statues.” Gire explained his analogy further: “Like Vincent, Jesus drew our attention to a sower in the field, birds of the air, flowers of the field, faces of the poor. Like Vincent, he has, to borrow Don Maclean’s words, ‘eyes that know the darkness in my souls,’ and hands, like an artist’s that soothed ‘weathered faces lined in pain.’ Like Vincent, he put frames around ‘ragged men in ragged clothes.’ And like Vincent, “‘he tried to set them free.’”

The author stressed that these two artists tried to say something: “Look at the pictures. And if you look with the right eyes, those pictures will become windows leading out of the dungeon so the prodigal part of us can find its way home.”

There were other accounts from the book that were expertly woven by the author showing that, indeed, seemingly ordinary things and circumstances that we come across every day have deeper significance and meanings. Only if we spend the time to look closely.

Which I did when I visited Batanes. That sojourn allowed me to closely look through various windows. For one, I peeped through the “windows of the soul” of my friend Nelzo and his family, the Ereful family, through whom I learned and experienced the Ivatan way of life that they so generously shared during my stay there. I saw through them the stunning beauty of Batanes and the Ivatans’ honesty, integrity, industry, and warm hospitality. Through them, I was also able to get a glimpse of the “windows of the soul” of another great artist, our very own Pacita Abad.

The poet Rainer Maria Rilke spent much time studying works of art, but not until he had met and talked with the artists themselves that he learned to appreciate their work. I was not able to meet and talk with Pacita Abad, as she died of lung cancer about five years ago, but I was able to see, hear, touch, feel and taste the place and the culture that inspired her to create those wonderful pieces of art that awed the world. Mam Dina Abad, the artist’s sister-in-law, allowed me to peek through the artist’s “window,” which helped me to go beyond scratching through the surface to get deeper into knowing the soul of this world-famous Filipino artist.

In Ian Findlay Browns’ Endless Blues (one of the books Mam Dina allowed me to browse), Pacita Abad expressed herself, “Although this series is about the blues, I am a positive person and so I give myself total freedom of expression. Almost all of my paintings are bursting with color and emotion.”

“I began a struggle with lung cancer and its associated treatments of surgery, radiotherapy and chemotherapy. Yes, chop, burn and poison. The emotional and physical sense of uncertainty, as well as the doctor’s travel ban, made me take refuge in my studio. The result of course is that painting and listening to the blues was the best therapy…Like the blues, my paintings are always strong, sometimes sad, a bit nostalgic and very colorful.”

I challenge you to “Look with more than just your eyes and listen with more than just your ears, for the sounds are sometimes faint and the sights sometimes far away…” For indeed, “windows are everywhere, and at any time we may find one. Or one may find us. Though we will hardly know it…unless we are searching for Him who for so long has been searching for us.”