ART AGAINST ALL ODDS
by Anna M. Rosete
Photographs in magazine by Ocs Alvarez
Photographs in magazine by Ocs Alvarez
ON A PARTICULARLY blistering April morning, chiaroscurist Danilo Arriola’s home and studio wallow in buttery natural light. He was exceptionally concerned that setting the time of his shoot later than 9 a.m. would mean having to bear the summer heat, but we were grateful to catch him in his element – his living room which allows light, one of the main protagonists of his work, to enter, unapologetic.
Before us stood an army of easels which bear his work. One of them supported a television screen which looped slides of his recently concluded Ayala Museum Artist Space Show, Chiaroscurist Danilo Arriola: First Solo Show which is a collaboration with production designers to create a space for his work that referenced his time in Florence.
It was quite a dramatic journey for Arriola to arrive at this first solo endeavor. His is a story marked by sacrifice and faith, all in the name of art.
FROM SINGAPORE TO NEW YORK
In the 90’s, Arriola was an architect who enjoyed a career in Singapore, until he received a phone call from his parents telling him to return home, for his sister had passed away due to rabies, a life event which forced him to take a hard look at his life, and ask himself how he’d like to spend the rest of it. He found the answer in painting, and immediately set on a quest for the best education in the field. “Naghanap ako ng gusto ko. Gusto kong maging Tadema,” he says, reffering to the Frisian artist admired for his dexterity in draftsmanship. “I’d by posters nila Tadema at Waterhouse,” Arriola continues. His search for the perfect painting academy brought him to the various art academies in New York.
In 2001, he received the brochure for the Florence Academy of Art, founded by Daniel Graves. Situated in the cradle of the Renaissance, Arriola reveled in the same artistic environment that shaped the like of Michelangelo and Donatello, but passion was not enough to make ends meet. His earning from hisarchitectural job in Singapore enabled him to enroll for the first year, but he had to contend with the living expenses in a Florence that had just converted its monetary system into the hefty Euro.
THE ARTIST AS A FILIPINO IN FLORENCE
“Tumira ako sa Altro Arno, An old lady owned a leather goods stall in Sta. Croce became my surrogate aunt. I had to struggle between being a good student and a good Filipino,” Arriola says, reffering to his relationship with the Filipinos who worked in Florence, and who pooled their resources in order to help him with his daily living. He would join them in the Piazza della Santa Maria Novella on Sundays, where they would ask him, “Bakit ka pa nag-aaral? Nandito ka na, matrabaho ka na.” So he took odd jobs like hair cutting and massage theraphy, in order to make a living. “I can relate to the movie Millan,” Arriola says of the 2004 Star Cinema film, which chronicled the lives of the OFWs living in Italy. “Kinakailangan kong makisama sa kanila. Hey were so proud that they knew a Filipino art student in Florence,” Danilo relates of that time.
Earning a living as a student abroad was on thing. Honing his skill as an artists was another. In the Florence Academy of Art, the classical style of painting from life was instilled in him. “The first thing that my teachers did was to slow me down. I had to take a leap from the 21st century to the 14th century,” he says. His days were spent drawing precisely from classical sculptures and lithographs, determined to continue the classical tradition of painting and drawing. “There is an unwritten contract that once you have studied in the Florence Academy of Art, you will continue their tradition and represent your country in this style,” Danilo says.
STAYING AFLOAT
He made it through his first year, but the journey to his second year was a slow struggle. Guilt plagued him, too, for he saw how his family became riddled with debt in order to see him through his dreams. He applied for art grants, and approached people of means who could help him out. Of all the people he wrote, only two extended help, Lucio Tan of the Tan Yan Kee Foundation and the Mega Star Sharon Cuneta, who gave him funds for three months of housing.
It was also during this time that Danilo began to suffer from ankylosing spondylitis, a type of arthritis that causes severe pain of the spinal joints. Still, he was steadfast in his zeal to return to Florence. “I have to polish my Italian because I am going back to Italy,” he told himself, and enrolled in an Italian language course where a classmet coaxed him intyo sending his portfolio to a politician who agreed to help him with his studies.
However, Arriola’s ailment won over his determination to complete his course at the Florence Academy of Art. At one point, he was too ill to actually work with paint and brushes, making him concentrate more on pencil sketches. Now, he is still nursing the pain from his disease, but he is better, actually painting, eith fairly steady patronage.
These days, he paint from assemblages of antiques and finds from thrift shops, which he lovingly curates in his studio.
His paintings show undeniable virtuosity in his chosen art. Through them, he savors every waking moment by rendering the delicate interaction between natural light and the subject.
“I’d rather be free. I don’t work for the money. To put it bluntly, I don’t work on commissions,” he proclaims. “All I want to draw are beautiful things. I want to show that this is how paintings and drawings should be done.”
As for his dramatic story, the artist is peacefully resigned. “With all that’s happened, I’ve been provided for, and it’s enough for me to say that I am fortunate. Life gets better.”
METRO HOME & ENTERTAINING VOL. 12 NO. 3, folio / ARTIST. p.51-55