BusinessWorld, March 18, 1996
By Cecille Santillan-Visto
National Artist Napoleon V. Abueva officially retired from teaching at the University of the Philippines in May last year (1995) but it was only last month that formal ceremonies were held. Having more time on his hands does not mean however that he has the luxury to spend leisurely days. With a million and one things to do — including preparing for his candidacy in the 1998 general elections — his schedule is tighter than ever.
The former dean of the UP College of Fine Arts tells BusinessWorld that he had been planning to run even before his retirement but thought that it would be best to pursue it when his commitment with UP was over.
“Now that the die is cast,” he says, referring to this first public revelation, “I must say that come hell or high water, whether or not I win the sweepstakes, I will be running.”
The announcement may come as a shock but Mr. Abueva says it is not as if he is the first politician in his family. His father, the late Teodoro Abueva, was a board member of the provincial government in Bohol. And although political skills are far from hereditary, he feels that if his father was able to make it in the political arena, why can’t he?
“There is no harm in trying,” he reasons.
And this is not the first time that he tried. In 1971, he filed a leave from the UP and ran to become a delegate of the 1972 Constitutional Convention. He did not have the logistics and did not make it.
QUOTE: Napoleon Abueva3 by MBG / BusinessWorld
This time around, Mr. Abueva is eyeing the congressional seat of the third district of his home province, Bohol, and if duly supported, will run under the administration party. The playing field in the biggest district (composed of 19 towns) will be leveled as incumbent representative Isidro C. Zarraga is on his last term as congressman.
Bohol has produced a number of premier politicians including former President Carlos P. Garcia, who, incidentally, came from the same district. If Mr. Abueva proves successful, he will be among the elite circle.
If lady luck smiles on him, Mr. Abueva may be walking in the corridors of Congress by June 1998. But to the many students he has had the privilege to handle, he will remain the teacher who unselfishly shared his knowledge on art — every single day of his teaching career.
A professor for more than 40 years, Mr. Abueva started as an assistant instructor at UP in 1955, shortly after obtaining his Master’s degree in Fine Arts at the Cranbrook Academy of Art in Michigan. Teaching elementary molding as his first subject, he gradually moved to other areas of interest — ceramics, casting, and his favorite, direct carving, among others.
A number of prestigious awards have been bestowed upon Mr. Abueva including the Republic Award for Sculpture in 1959, Cultural Heritage Award in 1966, and National Artist of the Philippines for Sculpture in 1976 — making him a source of constant inspiration of his students.
More than the awards, he says he treasures every second he spent with his students.
“I feel victorious when I learn that they succeeded in the field that they chose to be in, and frustration, if they fail,” says Mr. Abueva.
What is the single most important thing he taught his students?
“That there is no short cut in art. You have to sweat it out… I envy the writers because once they have written down something, it is almost finished. In the visual arts, good intentions are not enough. Ideas have to be transformed in various materials and pursued all the way. Once you stop, it also stops by itself. Art is concept through execution, whatever medium you to choose,” he explained.
He says as a professor of sculpture, he had to give a lot more of himself to his students. Sculpture is a very demanding artform that needs a very demanding teacher. “Otherwise, they would not have learned from me,” he said.
But there were times when he handled uninterested students and he felt like he was just wasting his time. Of course, he did not have the excuse to give up. So, he went on.
His co-professors, who prepared a fitting tribute (which coincides with his first exhibit in almost 15 years), surely miss this jolly fellow but he makes it a point to keep in touch.
And the students?
He has the option to become a professor emeritus, teaching one subject at a time, but he says he is not keen on becoming one at the moment. Later, perhaps.
He needs a break, he said. Besides, he has poured his best years into the university and it’s definitely time to move on.
QUOTE: Napoleon Abueva2 by MBG / BusinessWorld
Mr. Abueva has reportedly gotten the support of some local officials and as “politics is addition… a numbers game,” he is still bent on getting some more.
His friends appear to be amenable to the idea but the same cannot be said of his family. Though they do not totally discourage the 65-year-old Abueva to run, they do not encourage him either. Although daughter Amihan has accepted his plan, wife Cherry and son Mulawin do not think it’s a good idea. The silent protests have not changed his
belief that there must be an artist in the lower house who can champion the cause of culture.
“There are a lot of brilliant economists and lawyers (in Congress) but unfortunately, not one artist,” he says, adding that since he has made up his mind to run, he hopes that in time, his wife and son will back his decision.
This glaring lack of a representative from the arts community in Congress may be the reason the arts did not get a single centavo from the General Appropriations Act, apart from the budget given to the Department of Education, Culture and Sports (DECS).
“Look at the more progressive countries like France and Spain. They have not neglected their culture. I think that we must do the same,” he explains.
The first thing Mr. Abueva plans to do, should he win, is put up a sculpture garden in the art-unfriendly Batasan grounds. There are hardly any artworks within the vicinity and the world-class sculptor will change that. His dream of putting up an honest-to-goodness sculpture garden may well materialize come 1998.
Mr. Abueva neither talks, walks, nor dresses like a politician. He does not even look like one. In other words, he is far from the stereotypical politician. This may be attributed to the fact that he is not yet a politician and perhaps has no reason to act like one.
“But I’m willing to take the risk,” he says on his entry to the dog-eat-dog world of politics.
Artists are supposed to be idealists. Is he not afraid that politics will consume him?
“I’m a little bit of both — practical and an idealist. Practical because that’s the way I was brought up. Idealist because I’m here to help more people. If I stick to my sculpturing, I’ll just be helping myself and my family. As to whether or not it will consume me, let’s just see,” he said.
Two years before the crucial elections, Mr. Abueva is trying to finish all his commitments to be able to concentrate on campaigning later on, and on his duties afterwards. He still has to complete the small temple in his Tandang Sora home, the murals of the Far East Bank building in Makati and other pending contracts.
Holding office will surely cut down the time he has for his commissioned works (admittedly his bread and butter) but he does not mind. He can always go back to sculpture at the end of his term.
The responsibilities of a congressman are heavy and he needs to devote most of his time to it. Again, he says there should be no reason to complain. Quoting President Manuel Roxas, he says: “Ours minds will be eased from the weariness by the thought that our goal is our people’s happiness.”
It is interesting to listen to Mr. Abueva’s plan of action. He talks about making swimming a compulsory subject in schools, establishing additional forms of taxation such as infidelity tax ( for having extramarital affairs), satisfaction tax (for being satisfied with something) and sweetie tax (for having more children than you need to have) — which he dares not elaborate on until after he is elected.
His creativity does not stop in his studio or the classroom. He sure will bring it into the halls of the Batasan.
