Is Mr. Goethe In?

When I told a close friend about my receiving one of Germany’s highest awards, her instant reaction was: "How wonderful for you to be so honored while you’re still very much alive!" Her comment being marvelously true, saying it as my own now seems the most gratifyingly eloquent way of expressing, while I am indeed still standing on my feet, my profound gratitude to the Federal Republic of Germany, and to Ambassador Jess, for tonight’s singular honor.

May I shift to the time I was even more alive, a time when, as a frisky little girl, I took my first piano lessons which were actually my initial encounter with German culture. My mother may have been disappointed that I did not turn out to be a piano prodigy, yet she urged me to continue studying the piano, as also music theory and composition, music history and appreciation as an intern in St. Scholastica’s College. Although our study periods were strictly monitored, I managed to sneak out to listen to recitals at St. Cecilia’s Hall where each graduate had to play a full concerto with orchestra. Since those recitals, I have long realized that the music of Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Mozart, Chopin which you and I now enjoy, that every opera, sonata and symphony, and even the NY Philharmonic concerts we so thunderously applauded, hark back to the assiduous work of Sr. Baptista Battig, a German Benedictine nun.

The former Helen Battig, she was a brilliant pupil of Ludwig Deppé who had studied under Liszt. Helen was already an acclaimed concert pianist when suddenly, at age 30, she heeded a call to the religious life. Meekly obeying orders, she left her native Germany in 1907 to organize the music department of St. Scholastica’s College and thus introduce formal music education in the Philippines. With supreme dedication, she taught piano for the next 35 years, her countless graduates becoming teachers themselves. Nineteen years before she died in 1942, she took Filipino citizenship. She wrote: "I have endeavored to inculcate the principles of true art in music, and strong ties have bound both teacher and pupils eversince. Great is my desire to see the dear children of the East rise in the musical world to the same level as those of the West, and my profound desire be realized someday."

Lamentably, Sr. Battig did not live to see her enduring legacy produce, directly or indirectly, scores of world-class Filipino musical artists, among them the formidable Cecile Licad who recently played in this very house under Ambassador Jess’s patronage. Today, Cecile, Raul Sunico, Otoniel Gonzaga, Andion Fernandez and others proudly stand beside their Western peers while extending and deepening the unique Phil-German relations Sr. Battig established.

After my oblique but most illuminating encounter with Sr. Battig, I complemented it with ballet lessons plus actual performances mainly under my sister Leonor, now National Artist in Dance, and theater courses at the UP, likewise with actual stage experience. I recall portraying a girl who rejects her persistent suitor after learning that his father is a hangman. In Harvard, I took contemporary theater which included Brecht.

In effect, my background in the performing arts, literature and philosophy prepared me for the opening in 1961 of the Goethe Institut, first known as the Goethe House. The only German words the average Filipino spoke then were Ja, Ja, Nein, nein and kapput. People actually called up the Goethe House and asked, "Is Mr. Goethe in?" All that has drastically changed.

In 1981, having taken an overview of the Institut’s activities through its first 20 years, I was requested by Director Gerrit Bretzler to give the main address at its 20th anniversary celebration. In my speech, I concluded that the Institut’s program, cultural in the broadest sense, had remained unmatched for sheer range, scope, magnitude, depth and diversity. Please hold your breath while you listen. Experts lectured on cancer, aging, nuclear science, philosophy, architecture, sociology–specifically on problems of the working class–city planning, history, political science, psychiatry, marine geology and oceanography, economics, literature, geography, historiography, education, cultural planning, micropaleontology (I couldn’t find this world in my concise Oxford dictionary), international law, book design, oriental languages, the visual and graphic arts–music (classic, jazz, avant-garde), theater, dance; in sum, lectures on every conceivable aspect of human endeavor. All these to disseminate valuable knowledge derived from German experience in fulfillment of the Institut’s aim to serve the host country and, in Goethe’s spirit, to contribute to universality, brotherhood and the development of the total individual.

Further, world renowned artists and ensembles in music and modern dance came from Munich, Berlin, Cologne, Stuttgart, etc. in an endless stream, while balletomanes had their fill of ballet films. Although I consistently evaluated the performing arts scene with interviews, essays and more than enough critiques for a book I could have entitled "How Good is Excellent?" it was not humanly possible for me to attend every workshop, seminar, conference, lecture or symposium.

Had I done so, I would have received my award in heaven much earlier than tonight at the elegant residence of Ambassador and Mrs. Jess.

Through those 20 years, the Institut complemented German participation by sponsoring lectures of Filipino experts, exhibitions by our emerging painters, festivals of Philippine films, concerts jointly featuring Filipino and German artists. For instance, Oscar Yatco, who is now a professor in Hannover, conducted for soprano Margarita Shack. Through the Institut, such outstanding talents as Enrique Barcelo, Renato Lucas and later, Andion Fernandez obtained scholarships in German conservatories. Today, Barcelo is PPO’s principal flutist; Lucas, its principal cellist; Fernandez, a regular member of the prestigious Berlin Opera House.

Incidentally, when I gave a talk on Philippine-German relations in Tuebingen University in the 70s, I quickly discovered that Germany then was the only Western country celebrating an Asian Cultural Week.

In 1981, the same year the Goethe Institut opened, the German Embassy under Ambassador Wolfgang Eger converted Paco Cemetery, where Rizal was originally interred, into Paco Park. Since then, one month of every year is devoted to free concerts featuring Filipino artists interpreting German and Filipino composers. How Rizal, our first Germanophil and a fervid lover of the arts, would enjoy listening to them!

Braving pollution and congested traffic, music lovers motoring to Las Piñas for the yearly International Bamboo Organ Festival may have totally forgotten that with the Institut’s intervention, the bamboo organ underwent massive repairs in Bonn in 1973, and that on its return in 1975, Wolfgang Oehms, organist of the Trier Cathedral, gave the first concert in St. Joseph’s Church assisted by the Las Piñas Boys’ Choir and our Philharmonic Orchestra. German virtuosos continue to figure prominently in the festivals.

To nobody’s surprise, and certainly not to mine, the Institut, from its inauguration in 1961 to the year 2002, has maintained the incredible momentum, pace, vitality, range and scope of its program. During its celebration of the 250th birth anniversary of Goethe, and of its own 40th anniversary in 2001, and indeed, in any year chosen at random, each month is a virtual festival of art and culture in its widest latitude, with the major performing arts presentations still receiving my usual critical assessment.

Romantics may have added Ich Liebe dich! to their vocabulary, but the late Director, Dr. Hubertus Kuhne, to stress the Institut’s basic method and aim, said: "We offer German courses to interested parties, but we make no attempt to actively campaign for enrollees lest we lay ourselves open to the charge of neo-colonialism."

Notwithstanding, how the Institut has enriched our lives, enlarged our vision and lifted our spirit! Each director, I venture to say, has implemented the Institut’s program with awesome Teutonic efficiency and thoroughness. This might be construed to mean that the Germans are cold, impersonal and unfeeling.

May I offer my own insight into the German character by recounting the following personal episodes.

In 1976, I received the German Officer’s Cross of Merit through Ambassador Wolfgang Eger. At the inauguration of Paco Park in 1981, Ambassador Eger, on seeing me at the opposite end, with the pond separating his section from mine, walked unself-consciously in full view of the audience, to fetch and escort me to a seat beside him and his wife Gisela.

Years ago, Helga Kuhne, widow of Director Hubertus Kuhne, drove all morning with her adopted Filipino baby from Munich to Berlin just to see me briefly. When Helga accompanied me that morning to a department store, pushing a pram with the baby Enya in it, astonished Berliners must have assumed I was a very rich Asian tourist with a German governess caring for my little daughter. That same afternoon, Helga drove back to Munich, thus spending the whole day on the road while stopping every now and then to change the baby’s diaper and feed her from milk bottles.

When I made a personal visit to Munich, Helga insisted on my staying in her apartment. For three straight nights, despite my vigorous protestations, Helga slept on the floor with Enya while I, like a princess, slept on the double-bed. Now I ask you, is there any difference between Filipino and German hospitality? How I wish we Filipinos could add to our virtue of hospitality, which is praised world-wide, German thoroughness, efficiency and, above all, discipline!

In conclusion, I trust you will understand my immense pride in receiving tonight’s award from the Republic of Germany and, impliedly, from its people whose deep sense of humanity I genuinely admire; from the embassy which has been headed by the chivalrous Ambassador Eger, and is now under Ambassador Jess, the Filipino artist’s avid patron who has magnanimously conferred an award on me tonight; from the Goethe Institut which brings to mind the largeness of spirit of Dr. Kuhne who died in a plane crash in line of duty, and Dr. Wilfried Scheffler’s unfailing wit and humor which enlivened his dynamism and innovative enterprise. In honoring me, they properly and appropriately honor themselves and their towering achievements. Danke schon!