Ernestly in love with the countryside
April 30, 2006 | 12:00am
There’s one story about Ernest Santiago that we can never forget. A friend of ours, hopelessly in love, had spent a weekend at Ernest’s Pagsanjan retreat to help him forget this amour that could never be.
Ernest had already told him countless times to just move on but he still kept ranting and raving. Before he could finish the inevitable line for the nth time, "But I still love him, ehhh . . .," the irrepressible "Taray" (a term of endearment meaning "fierce") gave him one big shock of a slap on the cheek that jolted him back to his senses and out of that relationship for good. And this is how Ernest has always been – the ultimate pragmatist, knowing the quick, efficient way to solve things and always moving on from there. He always "shocks" us into his way of seeing things and silly us, we’d say, for not seeing it that way in the first place.
As a fashion designer in the late ’70s, Ernest Santiago heralded the power ’80s by exaggerating the panuelos of the Maria Clara to give it that edge that made it chic again. At about the same time, hohum Manila nightlife was placed on the international map with his creation of Coco Banana in Malate. It was a playground for the beautiful and all who were in search of beauty. Nobody – straight or gay, arriviste or jaded – could enter those hallowed walls without being mesmerized or altered in some way.
But transformation of the ordinary has always been second nature to Ernest. Whether it’s his establishments in Malate or his homes in Paco, Baguio or Matabungkay, he would always work with existing structures, available materials and local craftsmen to create revolutionary interiors, furniture and art objects that would amaze everyone with their new, strange beauty. In the ’90s he experimented with antique Philippine hardwood, boulders and stone to produce sculptural furniture never seen or imagined before. As if the evolution from fashion designer and nightlife maestro to interior and furniture designer wasn’t enough, he did yet another transformation by gracing the Philippine theater stage as "the mother of all aswangs" in Gilda Cordero Fernando’s musical about those twilight creatures.
Now that Ernest has moved to the country, we discovered that the alchemist is still in residence, and still very much in tune with what’s going on – if environmental design commissions from multinational resorts and features in international magazines are any indication. The current rage in interior design has been communing with nature, "outdoor living," and bringing the outside in. That’s what he’s been doing for decades! His houses were always the coolest, not just because of the up-to-the-minute interiors and décor but because the architecture brought the breeze in and the house was surrounded by a virtual forest of trees and the most exotic flora. Walls seem to be nonexistent as there were always full views of the garden from generously proportioned windows and lush floral arrangements in every room.
His house and gallery café in Pagsanjan, Laguna, follow the same tenets of comfortable, tropical living but of course with his signature twists of the moment. A dalagang bukid statue in fittingly pop-art colors greets you at the roadside entrance with her beauty queen-sash that spells out the name of the establishment. A small pond, one of many all over the property, dominates the front garden with a heron sculpture holding court. The house itself is shielded by a pre-cast wall of bubble cut-outs in shocking turquoise, creating a shaded walkway to the front door where a towering San Vicente points heavenward as a portent of good things to come. The foyer gives you a jolt, once again, with dazzling orange walls and stark modern furniture made of rare, antique hardwood like gijo, balayong and mapilig; all designed by Ernest and produced in his atelier. An inner sanctum has a more inviting canvas sofa plumped up with fluffy cushions and an antique table used to contain the sound system. Strewn about are various objets d’art, some familiar from his old houses, some from recent travels, but all unusual, well selected and positioned just where you are waiting for a surprise.
And then the piece-de-resistance – you know where Ernest’s heart is – the molave dining table, a good 14 feet long, draped in pleated fuchsia sari material, with all the flowers of his garden scattered randomly as centerpiece. Half of the dining room opens to the garden. This feature, together with the 15 feet high ceiling made of anahaw leaves, ventilates the area even during the hottest summer noon, making the antique ceiling fans practically decorative. The garden is obviously Ernest’s passion with so many pocket sitting areas that are marvels to look at, with all kinds of curiosities set amidst lush foliage and rare, exotic plants and flowers.
For lunch, Ernest prepared the most refreshing salad of pako fern plucked from the Laguna wild, garnished with singkamas and fresh kesong puti sans the surfeit of salt used to extend its life when exported to the city. A fresh lumpia followed, with the crunch of garbanzos added to this traditional recipe. The sinigang, something we always lobbied for whenever Ernest would host a dinner, was hypertension-friendly tilapia with the perfect sourness from tomatoes and a bitter kick from mustasa leaves. To die for was the chicken and pork adobo, steeped for days in his secret concoction which produced a rich sauce that just had to be dribbled on the fragrant milagrosa rice for pure ecstasy. Needless to say, we had seconds, thirds and stopped counting. Dessert was modest fruit for the conscience, but some guests at the café were raving about the halo-halo which we have to come back for on another day. Besides, Ernest still had more in store at his new resort which he wanted to show us after lunch.
A 45-minute breeze through delightful, hilly terrain brought us to Kilib, Ernest’s new baby on a one-hectare property in Lucban, Quezon. Kilib, like liblib, is secluded and is the stuff of your most innermost desire for repose and relaxation specially after eating to excess. There are echoes of Bali here, like the temple stupa trimmings adorning the entrance of a walkway to the lake and the predilection to open the bath to the great outdoors. But other civilizations reverberate: There’s India, Afghanistan and Maranao as well, all harmoniously coexisting in tropical splendor as only Ernest could make them so. Walls are startlingly white, this time, with colors like vermillion limited to accent mouldings. The main house, again, is so cool that we could not believe there was no artificial air pumping out from somewhere. Maruja, the resident manager, so sprightly even with her oversized hat, swore it was all natural and claims the temperature drops to 15 degrees in December. The anahaw ceiling and nipa roof must also do the trick and yes, with everything opening to gardens, gardens, gardens! Like in Pagsanjan, there are many pocket sitting areas here where groups can break out after lunch or where one can finally have that tete-a-tete so difficult to realize in the city. There’s a particularly strategic one facing the lake, made of antique planks and shaded with a pergola of vines. Modern stone sculptures as well as classic fragments provide topics of diversion when one-on-one conversation becomes too heavy.
For pure introspection, there are many giant oval terra-cotta ponds to contemplate or drown one’s sorrows in. We, on the other hand, chose to celebrate this amazing resort by feasting at Ernest’s merienda table of native kakanin like pilipit and suman with freshly brewed mountain coffee. We could have done further reclining in Kilib’s many bacchanalian settings but the sun was setting and fear of being stuck in the traffic of Pansol bakasyonistas got the better of us. One last look at Kilib and the disco days of Coco came flashing in our minds. That was such a long time ago and we realized that all this time Ernest has been creating the most beautiful places in our memory – bringing us on many voyages with his artistry and astonishing us through the years, through many wonderful lunches and meriendas!
And there will be more to come. He already warned us (yes, after all these years, we’re never quite prepared for what he will do next) that additional rest houses are in the drawing board for Kilib so we can stay overnight next time and he has many dream furniture pieces to make for the next CITEM show with color, color, color! So be warned: The alchemist is up to new tricks and you better be prepared for his latest brew.
Ernest Santiago’s 83 Gallery Café is open daily from 9:30 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. at 83 Rizal St., Pagsanjan, Laguna. For group private functions at 83 Gallery Café and Kilib Resort in Lucban, Quezon, call 049-8084967 or 0921-5775313 or fax 049-8210215 for bookings and reservations.
Ernest had already told him countless times to just move on but he still kept ranting and raving. Before he could finish the inevitable line for the nth time, "But I still love him, ehhh . . .," the irrepressible "Taray" (a term of endearment meaning "fierce") gave him one big shock of a slap on the cheek that jolted him back to his senses and out of that relationship for good. And this is how Ernest has always been – the ultimate pragmatist, knowing the quick, efficient way to solve things and always moving on from there. He always "shocks" us into his way of seeing things and silly us, we’d say, for not seeing it that way in the first place.
As a fashion designer in the late ’70s, Ernest Santiago heralded the power ’80s by exaggerating the panuelos of the Maria Clara to give it that edge that made it chic again. At about the same time, hohum Manila nightlife was placed on the international map with his creation of Coco Banana in Malate. It was a playground for the beautiful and all who were in search of beauty. Nobody – straight or gay, arriviste or jaded – could enter those hallowed walls without being mesmerized or altered in some way.
But transformation of the ordinary has always been second nature to Ernest. Whether it’s his establishments in Malate or his homes in Paco, Baguio or Matabungkay, he would always work with existing structures, available materials and local craftsmen to create revolutionary interiors, furniture and art objects that would amaze everyone with their new, strange beauty. In the ’90s he experimented with antique Philippine hardwood, boulders and stone to produce sculptural furniture never seen or imagined before. As if the evolution from fashion designer and nightlife maestro to interior and furniture designer wasn’t enough, he did yet another transformation by gracing the Philippine theater stage as "the mother of all aswangs" in Gilda Cordero Fernando’s musical about those twilight creatures.
Now that Ernest has moved to the country, we discovered that the alchemist is still in residence, and still very much in tune with what’s going on – if environmental design commissions from multinational resorts and features in international magazines are any indication. The current rage in interior design has been communing with nature, "outdoor living," and bringing the outside in. That’s what he’s been doing for decades! His houses were always the coolest, not just because of the up-to-the-minute interiors and décor but because the architecture brought the breeze in and the house was surrounded by a virtual forest of trees and the most exotic flora. Walls seem to be nonexistent as there were always full views of the garden from generously proportioned windows and lush floral arrangements in every room.
His house and gallery café in Pagsanjan, Laguna, follow the same tenets of comfortable, tropical living but of course with his signature twists of the moment. A dalagang bukid statue in fittingly pop-art colors greets you at the roadside entrance with her beauty queen-sash that spells out the name of the establishment. A small pond, one of many all over the property, dominates the front garden with a heron sculpture holding court. The house itself is shielded by a pre-cast wall of bubble cut-outs in shocking turquoise, creating a shaded walkway to the front door where a towering San Vicente points heavenward as a portent of good things to come. The foyer gives you a jolt, once again, with dazzling orange walls and stark modern furniture made of rare, antique hardwood like gijo, balayong and mapilig; all designed by Ernest and produced in his atelier. An inner sanctum has a more inviting canvas sofa plumped up with fluffy cushions and an antique table used to contain the sound system. Strewn about are various objets d’art, some familiar from his old houses, some from recent travels, but all unusual, well selected and positioned just where you are waiting for a surprise.
And then the piece-de-resistance – you know where Ernest’s heart is – the molave dining table, a good 14 feet long, draped in pleated fuchsia sari material, with all the flowers of his garden scattered randomly as centerpiece. Half of the dining room opens to the garden. This feature, together with the 15 feet high ceiling made of anahaw leaves, ventilates the area even during the hottest summer noon, making the antique ceiling fans practically decorative. The garden is obviously Ernest’s passion with so many pocket sitting areas that are marvels to look at, with all kinds of curiosities set amidst lush foliage and rare, exotic plants and flowers.
For lunch, Ernest prepared the most refreshing salad of pako fern plucked from the Laguna wild, garnished with singkamas and fresh kesong puti sans the surfeit of salt used to extend its life when exported to the city. A fresh lumpia followed, with the crunch of garbanzos added to this traditional recipe. The sinigang, something we always lobbied for whenever Ernest would host a dinner, was hypertension-friendly tilapia with the perfect sourness from tomatoes and a bitter kick from mustasa leaves. To die for was the chicken and pork adobo, steeped for days in his secret concoction which produced a rich sauce that just had to be dribbled on the fragrant milagrosa rice for pure ecstasy. Needless to say, we had seconds, thirds and stopped counting. Dessert was modest fruit for the conscience, but some guests at the café were raving about the halo-halo which we have to come back for on another day. Besides, Ernest still had more in store at his new resort which he wanted to show us after lunch.
For pure introspection, there are many giant oval terra-cotta ponds to contemplate or drown one’s sorrows in. We, on the other hand, chose to celebrate this amazing resort by feasting at Ernest’s merienda table of native kakanin like pilipit and suman with freshly brewed mountain coffee. We could have done further reclining in Kilib’s many bacchanalian settings but the sun was setting and fear of being stuck in the traffic of Pansol bakasyonistas got the better of us. One last look at Kilib and the disco days of Coco came flashing in our minds. That was such a long time ago and we realized that all this time Ernest has been creating the most beautiful places in our memory – bringing us on many voyages with his artistry and astonishing us through the years, through many wonderful lunches and meriendas!
And there will be more to come. He already warned us (yes, after all these years, we’re never quite prepared for what he will do next) that additional rest houses are in the drawing board for Kilib so we can stay overnight next time and he has many dream furniture pieces to make for the next CITEM show with color, color, color! So be warned: The alchemist is up to new tricks and you better be prepared for his latest brew.
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