A Portrait of Bob's

It was almost instinctive: Have a reunion, will go to Bob’s.

My US-based parents and sister were in Manila recently, albeit unexpectedly. My grandfather Igmedio had passed away, and the entire clan wanted to honor him with their presence at his burial.

After his burial, we celebrated life by going to Bob’s studio for a family portrait. It was a moment to be cherished and one that got me thinking that of the many marvels in the world, photography has got to be among the most wondrous. You smile at a box and life becomes forever.

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This year, Bob Razon marks his 59th year as a photographer and the "Dean of Philippine Portraiture" shows no signs of slowing down. We pay a visit to his studio in Malate, a repository of images and memories of the country’s postwar era.

The foyer showcases Bob Razon’s humble beginnings. The receiving area takes you to another space and time; the monochrome photographs of yesteryear’s beauties in classic poses evoke images of a bygone age of innocence and glamour. To the left stands a treasure case of cameras used by Bob since the Japanese Occupation. At the time, Bob, against all odds, put up a shop at the entrance of the Grand Opera House in downtown Manila. Hard work, luck and perseverance brought him to the attention of the elite. At that time, photography was an experimental alternative to portraiture done with oil on canvas by few artists. Bob met the well-known Fernando Amorsolo when they were both summoned by Malacañang Palace to do a formal portrait of the First Lady, Mrs. Carlos Garcia. After that, Bob and Fernando were oftentimes companions at sittings with the crème de la creme.

Bob confides that his expertise in portraiture stemmed from his close association with both Amorsolo and Botong Francisco, a muralist who was an elementary school classmate.

Lording over the counter area are photographs of the country’s presidents since the war. Their expressions are frozen forever in a grandiloquent moment.

On the other side of the wall are Bob’s latest samples of his versatility in portraying public figures. . . an avuncular Blas Ople looking rather like a Malay Winston Churchill . . . Rodolfo Biazon in a Macarthur-like stance and even a most intriguing candid shot of Joker Arroyo and Tessie Aquino-Oreta in a playful pose. . . an absolutely charming shot of smiling senatorial wives Sharon Cuneta and Vilma Santos. There is that warmth, that "coming-alive" dimensional quality about this photo. The country’s senators were recently photographed in a single session by the master lensman.

And then there are the weddings. Nearly 5,000 weddings through the years have passed through the lenses of Bob Razon. Several families have had four generations of their clan coming to Bob. He tells us now that it is most appealing to catch brides in unguarded, reflective moments, an "un-posed" pose if you will.

The Gallery or Formal Studio is connected to the Reception area and has a complete array of lighting equipment, paraphernalia and backdrops that appear at the touch of a button. It is here where Bob often lectures to young aspirants on the art of photography with major emphasis on the role of lighting to achieve that perfect shot.

The production area, behind the office, houses the different departments. A recent addition is the Digital Imaging room, introduced by his son Robert, where digitally photographed images are downloaded into computers and burned into proofing CD’s for the client’s perusal all before you can finish that hot cup of coffee.

While there certainly is much competition these days with the shifting demographics and exponential technology growth, Bob Razon has kept pace. Nobody, to this day, has come close to achieving the painting-like effect of the 40 x 60’s or the 30 x 40’s which Bob pioneered in the ’80s.

And as we wander around Bob’s studio we marvel at this man’s boundless energy, enthusiasm and love for his art. And then, we wonder about his age. . . if he was around during the war, he has to be well into his eighties. But here standing in front of us, laughing, cajoling, reminiscing with crystal clarity. . . is a sprightly man.

"I can still drive all the way to Tagaytay!" he tells us. And the secret to his energy?

"Maybe," he muses, "that’s from seeing prople smile back at you everyday. It’s as if they’re smiling at you, not at the camera."