Of course, I must confess I had pre-concerned notions and was prepared to meet a stereotype artist– eccentric maybe to the point of being outlandish, completely immersed in her art with a condescending attitude towards those who "cannot understand" the special viewpoint with which she sees the world.
When we entered the gate of Impy Pilapil’s home, I immediately saw an unusual sight–perched on a branch of a high tree was a woman stylishly dressed, her long legs dangling from a very brief skirt.
No, it was not Impy! But perhaps only she could have thought of stringing up a tailor’s mannequin to sit nonchalantly on a high branch of her tallest tree. To me it seemed a confirmation of my stereotype artist–eccentric, outlandish, and out of this commonplace world.
We enter the main door and immediately see the difference even more emphatically. What would ordinarily be a living room was a mind boggling display of stunning art work, sculptures made out of glass, granite, stone, and steel, carved, turned and twisted into extraordinary shapes that leaves the viewer breathless. It was the fantastic world of a consummate artist who could by her genius turn the ordinary and commonplace into objects of dazzling beauty.
I might have lingered a little longer to be able to take in the details of each sculpture, but my friends, with the familiarity that came from frequent visits with Impy, immediately headed for the dining room: "This is where we usually eat," they said.
"You eat on this table?" I exclaimed incredulously. Because the table was a piece of art by itself and was strewn with lovely carved pieces of crystal and granite typical of the Impy Pilapil style.
It seemed almost sacrilegious, but my companions had already settled themselves comfortably in anticipation of a good meal, although there were no plates or utensils in sight.
"We sometimes eat in the kitchen," one of my companions said cheerfully. "This is special."
Just then the kitchen door swings open and a slim young woman clad in the usual blue jeans and white shirt comes in. Pushing her long straight black hair away from her pretty face, her beautiful wide eyes full of concern, she explained, somewhat breathlessly, "It will be a little late; the chicken is not quite done."
I think to myself, "This must be Impy’s daughter."
Just then our mutual friend says in introduction, "Impy, this is Jeanie."
"Hi", she says, "I’m happy to meet you."
I tell her I was happy, too, and I was happy to meet Impy Pilapil, a real warm lovely person very much at home with our everyday world even while continuing to wander in the inner world of her fantasy.
Perhaps it is that unique quality of keeping her feet firmly on the ground while she roamed among the spirals and shapes of her imagination that makes Impy Pilapil the sensationally gifted and highly successful artist she is today.
We ask her if she thought artists were born rather than made. She is thoughtful for a moment then says, "Of course, they are born with that inner feeling. I think of it as a gift from Heaven. But they also have to work hard in order to bring out that feeling and express it–and because they have to live in this everyday world, they must know how to balance practical realities with their art so that in the end, they will be able to express themselves in their art in a way by which they can share it with others. It is an artists’ duty to share this God-given gift with other people."
Even as a small child, Imelda Pilapil (her nickname is a combination of the first syllables of her first name and her surname) was obviously born with "it". At the age of three her yaya taught her how to cut out paper dolls from old newspapers. After watching her yaya demonstrate once how to do it, the little tot took the scissors and started cutting out paper dolls with even more dexterity and sureness that astounded all the adults around her. She soon showed the same skill when she would rearrange the house furniture. Even when she was a small child, her flower arrangements were so beautiful that it became her special household chore to "do" all the arrangements.
Her father, an unusually understanding man, encouraged her in her fascination for fashioning paper into all kinds of shapes. He bought her a book on Japanese paper art. At first she would copy the designs but soon she was creating shapes and designs of her own.
Aside from this extraordinary skill, her childhood in Cavite was the usual childhood of a provincial child. Moving to the city and enrolled in St. Theresa’s College she found some difficulty adjusting to the more structured disciplined atmosphere of a convent school.
"But I survived!" she says, laughing.
By the time she was ready for college she was already toying with the idea of specializing in the arts. But her mother, a practical minded, down to earth woman, advised her to take a course in Economics in U.P.
Even after she graduated from college that "inner feeling" persisted. Lucrecia Kasilag was a lucky find. She could not give her a position but with her foreign connections, Kasilag could arrange for a scholarship in a school of design in Italy.
Those three years she spent in Italy firmed up Impy’s commitment to the arts. But when she came back home, she was faced with the reality of having to earn a living.
"My mother grew up in the small town of Imus and was very conscious of what her relatives and neighbors would say about my ‘wasting my time’ so I tried to go into something practical that would enable me to earn some money. I got a job writing radio scripts. I even opened a haberdashery, would you believe!"
In time all her practical efforts started to bring in money. But money was only a means, not the end in itself. "But at least it enabled me to buy the materials which I could experiment with whenever I had time."
She was experimenting with paper shapes when a noted local art connoisseur heard about them and put them on exhibit. They were quickly sold out.
That was the beginning. Soon her designs were in demand. She tried different media in the inspired designs that is now her forte.
But her most precious creation came when her daughter Isabela was born. Isa was only one-year-old when Impy separated from her German husband.
"But I swore I would be both mother and father to my child," she says.
Isa, now a lovely 26-year-old girl, is the result of her mother’s devotion. Beautiful and talented, she is an artist like her mother. She graduated summa cum laude from the UP College of Fine Arts and shows her mother’s passion and talent in painting and music. She, too, has that Heaven-sent gift, that "inner feeling".
Somebody remarked, "Some day she might even surpass you" and, like the typical devoted mother, Impy turns teary-eyed and says, "I hope so!"
One of the major pieces in Impy Pilapil’s latest exhibit is "The spiral of Life"–a masterpiece fashioned out of shining steel wires looped together in fascinating swirls that seem to represent the turns and twists of a well-spent life.
"There were some hardships, some sorrow–but that is what molds a person, that is what makes a Life," Impy says. At the peak of her professional success, Impy Pilapil puts her beautiful hands together as if in prayer and says softly, "It is a gift from God and I am so grateful."