Florence, Italy
4 August, 2010
The Vespucci, a merchant family in Florence is known for it's charitable work for the poor. They founded a hospital on Borgo Ognissanti, near their palace residence. The hospital is still operating today. They also fed the poor.
We remember Vespucci because one of the celebrated sons was Amerigo, the navigator. In the decade of Columbus discovery of the New World, Amerigo retraced this historic voyage twice and realized that Columbus did not really discover the eastern part of India. Instead Vespucci came to the conclusion that there was a huge body of land mass between Europe and India. He wrote home to his boss, Lorenzo de Medici. From his detailed letters, Florentine cartographers printed a new map of the world that named this land mass America after Amerigo.
The Vespuccis continued their charitable contribution to their community (borgo) and today we find their kitchen that served the poor in the parish had been resurrected as a restaurant. The restaurant was named after that ancient ritual and ceremony called "Cento Poveri" The 100 Poor.
This Osteria dei Cento Poveri was first opened and inaugurated on December 5, 1992.
It's told that the "Venchetoni" monks chose the poor of the parish and literally fed 100 of them after delousing, fumigating, cleansing, bathing, and giving then fresh new clothes. For those over age 60 a black cap and a white scarf was issued.
The Archbishop and his retinue of monks led the procession to the church. The Ognissanti church altar would be illuminated by thousands of lighted candles. The guests were led to a huge handicrafted table with scroll and decorative woodwork by Gianbattista Paolesi. In there, the Cento Poveri invited guests were seated. They were served on precious silver trays and the food portions were very generous.
Every 5 o'clock pm on the last Sunday of the Carnival Season in Florence, a crowd of curious onlookers are seen gathered at the door of this church just to get a glimpse of the ceremony. Apart from the 'Vanchetoni" monks, reknown noblemen, aristocrats, professionals; some foreigners (at that time the so called foreigners were from Venice, Emiglia Romana, Bologna, Sicily, Naples, Sienna, Pisa, Genoa, Milan (small kingdoms and duchies) with their seasonal tickets in hand, were waiting for their turn to be invited.
A couple of evenings ago, I went to this Osteria on via Pallazzuto 23, Angolo Via Porcellana. It was crowded with customers. The fare was inexpensive, simple, and used only fresh ingredients. I saw a pizza as staggeringly big as a basin (palangana) or better still, the diameter of a Bila-o.
A medium size pizza near the Arno river costs 11 Euros. At the Cento Poveri, a much bigger version costs 5 to 7 Euros.
A meal for the poveri like me.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Dr. José Rizal's Penmanship: The Lost Art of Handwriting
The Lost Art of Handwriting: Rizal's Noli me Tangere
I obtained the facsimile of Rizal's Noli me Tangere and El Filibusterismo in handwritten form. It's very inspiring. To write a complete novel in hand written form was the rigeur of the day in 1885 when he first started to write his manuscript.
Let's see how Rizal did it. He purchased writing paper. Oh, maybe 15 to 20 percent fiber stock. It must withstand the india ink and the quill bush stroke. Now we have the 8 by 12 inch size, or the A-4 of the European size. In Rizal's time, what do you think the regular book size manuscript was? It must be bigger. It must contain at least 21 lines in handwritten form. That could mean about 36 inches wide and 48 inches in length.
Imagine the backbreaking belabored hand, writing all 15 chapters in script. I'd be living in eternal hand cramps. We used to have our type writers in the early decade of the 19th century, and now with the 21st century contemporary computers we could delete and paste with entire abandon.
Not so in Rizal's time. He had to think clearly and must possess the linguistic proficiency to know exactly what he was doing and how he was doing it. The eraser for the india ink pen had not yet been been invented. We could actually see Dr. José Rizal's thought processes as he crosses out a word to convey a better nuanced word choice.
It was this manuscript that my ancestor, Dr. Maximo Viola hand carried to Berlin in 1887 to find a suitable and inexpensive printer. In fact, my granduncle provided the 300 pesetas as a loan to have it printed (see my earlier blog).
Rizal's manuscript in written form was beautifully spaced, It was told that his mother first taught him reading and writing. His personal teacher in grade school and those Jesuits at Ateneo shaped his o's and his u's and made him cross his t's and loop his p's elegantly.
I had the rare chance of tracing Rizal's own signature as he signed his name at the Leitmertiz Registry Book when he arrived for a visit with Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt at Leitmeritz, Austria, now Litomérice, Czech Republic, May 1887 (see my July 19, 2010 blog).
Handwriting is so personal and is the only legitimate source of our legal identity. Our name signature or hand writing is our special personal possession and so important that it is protected by the state (albeit the credit card companies) that no other is allowed to use it or imitate it.
In fact of all the ways to understand the real authentic Rizal is to study his signature and penmanship. It is a statement non verbally of who he is. Take a look at his hand written facsimile of the Noli as a manuscript. Note the evenly slanted letters. The ascenders (t, d, b, l, h ) or tall letters, and descenders (g, p. y, q,, z) are drawn in pure contour. Rizal could write straight even without a lined paper!
His m's and n's have mounded shapes, while his u's and w's were negative mounded shapes. It is well to remember that Jose Rizal was a sculptor. In this art form, one is constantly thriving for the clearance of the positive spaces and the negative spaces. Rizal's penmanship is an artist's delight.
His hand writing had a slant. A slightly forward slant conveys energy, a subconscious message of forward action, with cautious conservative pace. In his signature, he used heavy dark lines, not thin and wispy, suggesting muscular power, and intellectual strength. But in the Noli manuscript, we note him using medium lines indicating a "fine line of sensibility and a particular elegance. It conveys an aesthetic almost poetic personality." I'm not using these descriptions to give Rizal's attributes as we know it. I'm actually quoting Betty Edwards's chapter on handwriting as an art form (The New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, 1999. pp 162-163).
We are not trying Graphology on Rizal's penmanship. Graphologists go into fanciful derivations of how, for example, one large loop of a letter can indicate some personal acquisitive nature. We are talking without question, about the idea of making a line or hand writing related to the principles of art--the basic precepts of composition, balance, movement, rhythm and placement.
Just as art expresses the artist, so does handwriting expresses Rizal's inner personality.
Rizal's signature page is shown below.
/Users/pflores/Desktop/_DSC1882.JPG
/Users/pflores/Desktop/_DSC1889.JPG
I obtained the facsimile of Rizal's Noli me Tangere and El Filibusterismo in handwritten form. It's very inspiring. To write a complete novel in hand written form was the rigeur of the day in 1885 when he first started to write his manuscript.
Let's see how Rizal did it. He purchased writing paper. Oh, maybe 15 to 20 percent fiber stock. It must withstand the india ink and the quill bush stroke. Now we have the 8 by 12 inch size, or the A-4 of the European size. In Rizal's time, what do you think the regular book size manuscript was? It must be bigger. It must contain at least 21 lines in handwritten form. That could mean about 36 inches wide and 48 inches in length.
Imagine the backbreaking belabored hand, writing all 15 chapters in script. I'd be living in eternal hand cramps. We used to have our type writers in the early decade of the 19th century, and now with the 21st century contemporary computers we could delete and paste with entire abandon.
Not so in Rizal's time. He had to think clearly and must possess the linguistic proficiency to know exactly what he was doing and how he was doing it. The eraser for the india ink pen had not yet been been invented. We could actually see Dr. José Rizal's thought processes as he crosses out a word to convey a better nuanced word choice.
It was this manuscript that my ancestor, Dr. Maximo Viola hand carried to Berlin in 1887 to find a suitable and inexpensive printer. In fact, my granduncle provided the 300 pesetas as a loan to have it printed (see my earlier blog).
Rizal's manuscript in written form was beautifully spaced, It was told that his mother first taught him reading and writing. His personal teacher in grade school and those Jesuits at Ateneo shaped his o's and his u's and made him cross his t's and loop his p's elegantly.
I had the rare chance of tracing Rizal's own signature as he signed his name at the Leitmertiz Registry Book when he arrived for a visit with Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt at Leitmeritz, Austria, now Litomérice, Czech Republic, May 1887 (see my July 19, 2010 blog).
Handwriting is so personal and is the only legitimate source of our legal identity. Our name signature or hand writing is our special personal possession and so important that it is protected by the state (albeit the credit card companies) that no other is allowed to use it or imitate it.
In fact of all the ways to understand the real authentic Rizal is to study his signature and penmanship. It is a statement non verbally of who he is. Take a look at his hand written facsimile of the Noli as a manuscript. Note the evenly slanted letters. The ascenders (t, d, b, l, h ) or tall letters, and descenders (g, p. y, q,, z) are drawn in pure contour. Rizal could write straight even without a lined paper!
His m's and n's have mounded shapes, while his u's and w's were negative mounded shapes. It is well to remember that Jose Rizal was a sculptor. In this art form, one is constantly thriving for the clearance of the positive spaces and the negative spaces. Rizal's penmanship is an artist's delight.
His hand writing had a slant. A slightly forward slant conveys energy, a subconscious message of forward action, with cautious conservative pace. In his signature, he used heavy dark lines, not thin and wispy, suggesting muscular power, and intellectual strength. But in the Noli manuscript, we note him using medium lines indicating a "fine line of sensibility and a particular elegance. It conveys an aesthetic almost poetic personality." I'm not using these descriptions to give Rizal's attributes as we know it. I'm actually quoting Betty Edwards's chapter on handwriting as an art form (The New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, 1999. pp 162-163).
We are not trying Graphology on Rizal's penmanship. Graphologists go into fanciful derivations of how, for example, one large loop of a letter can indicate some personal acquisitive nature. We are talking without question, about the idea of making a line or hand writing related to the principles of art--the basic precepts of composition, balance, movement, rhythm and placement.
Just as art expresses the artist, so does handwriting expresses Rizal's inner personality.
Rizal's signature page is shown below.
/Users/pflores/Desktop/_DSC1882.JPG
/Users/pflores/Desktop/_DSC1889.JPG
Dr. José Rizal's 4th floor apartments, Madrid, 1882.
31, July 2010, Saturday
Firenze, Italia
My instructor, Erin Murphy, an American, is a Florence resident for the past 20 years.
Beginning Monday, my classes will be held in her studio. It's on the 4th floor of an old Firenze building. Knowing that the first floor is ground zero and does not count, that means I will have to go to 5 flights of stairs to the fourth floor.
What has this got to do with my Blog on Rizal? Why? Because José Rizal's apartments in Madrid were always on the 4th piso, (that's our 5th floor) or 3rd piso (that's our equivalent 4th floor). (See my next series of blogs on Rizal's residence in Madrid).
To Erin's Art Studio: I go through the huge wooden creaking facade door. Then a short vestibule with granite and marble stone floor introduces me to the first flight of stairs. I counted 10 steps to the first landing as it turns to another 10 steps into the first floor. Whew! That was 20 hard narbled steps just to reach the first floor.
Finally, 20--80-- and leading to almost nowhere in sight, we finally reach Erin's studio. It is beautiful out there. From the windows I could see the variegated tile roofs of the neighboring buildings, and the shadow of Brunellschi's Duomo. It's so near it seems I could reach out to it, while from afar, and in the distance, cypress trees outline the sky.
From the attic, there's a dangling Manila hemp rope attached to hooks on the side wall. This very narrow wooden steps lead to the rooftop, and then an open portico with potted plans reveal a fantastic view of the whole city of Firenze and the distant hills .
There overlooking this wonderful scene, for the next week of my art lessons, I will learn how to draw and paint the landscape. Expect me to paint the mildewed clay tile roofs below if I run out of subjects.
Back to Rizal.
Rizal's apartment in Madrid had always been on the 4th or 3rd floors. You and I are thinking the Filipino/American idea of naming floors with ground floor as first. The reality is, in all of Europe, our first floor is called the Ground floor. Their First floor is our Second floor.
Rizal who lived on the 4th floor had to negotiate at least 80 or more steps daily to go up, another 80 to go down. He would go up another 80 + steps for the breakfast morning's end back to his quarters, go down to eat lunch, then go up 80 steps to study, and go down to eat dinner, and finally up 80 steps to retire for the day. But he is rewarded every day of access to the rooftop and an awesome view of the whole city of Madrid spread out before him, with several cathedral spires punctuating the sky.
That was his daily grind. There were no cooking facilities in his apartment. Now we know what Filipino students in Madrid had to go through on their daily existence living in a foreign country away from home where in the home country, the highest floor of apartments and residences are only the ground floor and the first floor.
Rizal moved every so often, and always his quarters were up on the 3rd floor (our 4th). I took pictures of the facade of where he lived, but we can just imagine the stairs he had to negotiate with no elevators. However, having climbed Erin's studio up on the 4th floor, I now know exactly how he felt and where he got his feeling of soreness of the joints.
Rizal was a student at the Faculty of Philophy and Letters at the University of Madrid and later at the San Carlos Medical School in Madrid.
Firenze, Italia
My instructor, Erin Murphy, an American, is a Florence resident for the past 20 years.
Beginning Monday, my classes will be held in her studio. It's on the 4th floor of an old Firenze building. Knowing that the first floor is ground zero and does not count, that means I will have to go to 5 flights of stairs to the fourth floor.
What has this got to do with my Blog on Rizal? Why? Because José Rizal's apartments in Madrid were always on the 4th piso, (that's our 5th floor) or 3rd piso (that's our equivalent 4th floor). (See my next series of blogs on Rizal's residence in Madrid).
To Erin's Art Studio: I go through the huge wooden creaking facade door. Then a short vestibule with granite and marble stone floor introduces me to the first flight of stairs. I counted 10 steps to the first landing as it turns to another 10 steps into the first floor. Whew! That was 20 hard narbled steps just to reach the first floor.
Finally, 20--80-- and leading to almost nowhere in sight, we finally reach Erin's studio. It is beautiful out there. From the windows I could see the variegated tile roofs of the neighboring buildings, and the shadow of Brunellschi's Duomo. It's so near it seems I could reach out to it, while from afar, and in the distance, cypress trees outline the sky.
From the attic, there's a dangling Manila hemp rope attached to hooks on the side wall. This very narrow wooden steps lead to the rooftop, and then an open portico with potted plans reveal a fantastic view of the whole city of Firenze and the distant hills .
There overlooking this wonderful scene, for the next week of my art lessons, I will learn how to draw and paint the landscape. Expect me to paint the mildewed clay tile roofs below if I run out of subjects.
Back to Rizal.
Rizal's apartment in Madrid had always been on the 4th or 3rd floors. You and I are thinking the Filipino/American idea of naming floors with ground floor as first. The reality is, in all of Europe, our first floor is called the Ground floor. Their First floor is our Second floor.
Rizal who lived on the 4th floor had to negotiate at least 80 or more steps daily to go up, another 80 to go down. He would go up another 80 + steps for the breakfast morning's end back to his quarters, go down to eat lunch, then go up 80 steps to study, and go down to eat dinner, and finally up 80 steps to retire for the day. But he is rewarded every day of access to the rooftop and an awesome view of the whole city of Madrid spread out before him, with several cathedral spires punctuating the sky.
That was his daily grind. There were no cooking facilities in his apartment. Now we know what Filipino students in Madrid had to go through on their daily existence living in a foreign country away from home where in the home country, the highest floor of apartments and residences are only the ground floor and the first floor.
Rizal moved every so often, and always his quarters were up on the 3rd floor (our 4th). I took pictures of the facade of where he lived, but we can just imagine the stairs he had to negotiate with no elevators. However, having climbed Erin's studio up on the 4th floor, I now know exactly how he felt and where he got his feeling of soreness of the joints.
Rizal was a student at the Faculty of Philophy and Letters at the University of Madrid and later at the San Carlos Medical School in Madrid.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Accademia Italiana di Bellas Artis, Florence
Florence, Italy
July 31, 2010
I'm here in Firenze attending art school. My first drawing class is about studying and copying Juarez Machado's picture of a nude, another girl and the artist.
July 31, 2010
I'm here in Firenze attending art school. My first drawing class is about studying and copying Juarez Machado's picture of a nude, another girl and the artist.
Ferdinand Blumentritt of Lietmeritz, Austria, friend of Dr. José Rizal.
On May 13, 1877, Dr. Jose Rizal and his friend Dr. Maximo Viola (my ancestor) arrived by train. The friends were met by Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt and his family. Earlier, Dr, Blumentritt and Dr. José Rizal had started a very scholarly correspondence (on Philippine ethnography) which with every return of the maIl (around 10 days) the correspondence became more and more communicative. In other words, it was no longer just a correspondence between scholars, but a meeting of the minds of two disparate individuals in terms of geography but so similar in sentiment. In time, they found their metier and exchanged their own philosophies: of life, of teaching, of religion, of the colonizers and of the oppressed.
It will be good for the Filipino American reader to get the two volumes (1992, National Historical Institute, Manila) on José Rizal and his complete correspondence with Dr. Ferdinaand Blumentritt.
Last week, (19 July 2010) I traveled with my good friend from Prague, Miloslav (Mila for short) Smida to visit posthumously with the famed director of the Litomerérice Gynmasium or Realeschule (equivalent to our Secondary, College-bound). With the disintegration of the Austrian Hapsburg Empire, Lietmeritz became part of Czechoslovakia and was given a Czech name.
Litomérice is one hour's drive north from Prague. It has maintained a slower pace of life. The old tower's imagined arms still is about to engulf every newcomer in a warm embrace. The square's fountain in the middle still spouts clear water from its source: the pristine lake nearby. Thanks for the smaller car versions, the parked vehicles seem not so intrusive around the fountain. The arcades around the square still sport the ancient balustrades above and walking architaves below for pedestrian.
The very friendly town officials told us to go to the other side to the square, (East) and turn left. There is a small garden and inside another small garden wall, we found a shady lane with a bust of Blumentritt. I recognized his bespectacled face extruding from the high wall. It was the likeness of the sketch Dr. Rizal made of him during his visit in 1887. Viewing the green grounds, a plaque described this beloved citizen who developed a deep and great friendship with the National Hero of the Philippines. It said: "Here established the connection between Czech Republic and the Republic of the Philippines through the friendship of Dr. Ferdinand Blumentriit and Dr.José Rizal." A quote from one of Rizal's letters followed in Czech inscription.
Back in the center of town, on the other side of the square, we passed through a little street that led to the statue of an important Czech hero, Macha. On the left of the statue, we took three steps down and there we were: right on Rizal Park. It's a a slim tongue of green, a miniature park, very serene, peaceful, and tranquil.
A bust of Rizal lorded it over the scene. It is a beautiful handsome piece, sculpted no doubt by a renowned Filipino sculptor, a Caedo prehaps, but I have to check my sources to verify this.
/Users/pflores/Desktop/450px-rizal_litomerice_2021-225x300.jpg
I turned to Mila: "They (the Litomerice Commission), knew what they were doing. This place recalls Rizal's Dapitan domicle duirng his exile--- verdant green, tranquil, peaceful and reflective, which he called Mi Retiro" .
Mila replied pointedly: "Well then, let's create a tour prospectus for Filipinos who are traveling to Prague to make sure that they visit this historic piece of important Philippine History."
"I agree. There's more to just going to see the Holy Infant Jesus of Prague, which is the regular itinerary of the many Filipinos I know who travel to Prague." (For all of you out there planning to travel to Prague at any time in the future, please allow me and Mila to get your itinerary planned for this historic event.)
Last week, upon reading my blog on Rizal, the writer and literary critic Allen Gaborro exclaimed, "Who would expect a Rizal Park in the middle of a small ancient town square in an obscure town of the Czech Republic?"
Back at the town square tourist booth, we returned to buy some postcards. I found one that showed the square in 1840. Close enough for me.
Among the goods, postcards, and maps was a monograph of the "Last Farewell" by Dr. Jose Rizal translated in Czech. The glossy cover had a lovely bust image of Dr.l Jose Rizal. This is the bust found inside the Mayor's office. Truth be told, this cover monograph is better a thousand -fold than the images of any Rizal bust found in the Philippines. I'm sure of that.
I bought a copy for 48 Krowns. I wish I had purchased more.
It will be good for the Filipino American reader to get the two volumes (1992, National Historical Institute, Manila) on José Rizal and his complete correspondence with Dr. Ferdinaand Blumentritt.
Last week, (19 July 2010) I traveled with my good friend from Prague, Miloslav (Mila for short) Smida to visit posthumously with the famed director of the Litomerérice Gynmasium or Realeschule (equivalent to our Secondary, College-bound). With the disintegration of the Austrian Hapsburg Empire, Lietmeritz became part of Czechoslovakia and was given a Czech name.
Litomérice is one hour's drive north from Prague. It has maintained a slower pace of life. The old tower's imagined arms still is about to engulf every newcomer in a warm embrace. The square's fountain in the middle still spouts clear water from its source: the pristine lake nearby. Thanks for the smaller car versions, the parked vehicles seem not so intrusive around the fountain. The arcades around the square still sport the ancient balustrades above and walking architaves below for pedestrian.
The very friendly town officials told us to go to the other side to the square, (East) and turn left. There is a small garden and inside another small garden wall, we found a shady lane with a bust of Blumentritt. I recognized his bespectacled face extruding from the high wall. It was the likeness of the sketch Dr. Rizal made of him during his visit in 1887. Viewing the green grounds, a plaque described this beloved citizen who developed a deep and great friendship with the National Hero of the Philippines. It said: "Here established the connection between Czech Republic and the Republic of the Philippines through the friendship of Dr. Ferdinand Blumentriit and Dr.José Rizal." A quote from one of Rizal's letters followed in Czech inscription.
Back in the center of town, on the other side of the square, we passed through a little street that led to the statue of an important Czech hero, Macha. On the left of the statue, we took three steps down and there we were: right on Rizal Park. It's a a slim tongue of green, a miniature park, very serene, peaceful, and tranquil.
A bust of Rizal lorded it over the scene. It is a beautiful handsome piece, sculpted no doubt by a renowned Filipino sculptor, a Caedo prehaps, but I have to check my sources to verify this.
/Users/pflores/Desktop/450px-rizal_litomerice_2021-225x300.jpg
I turned to Mila: "They (the Litomerice Commission), knew what they were doing. This place recalls Rizal's Dapitan domicle duirng his exile--- verdant green, tranquil, peaceful and reflective, which he called Mi Retiro" .
Mila replied pointedly: "Well then, let's create a tour prospectus for Filipinos who are traveling to Prague to make sure that they visit this historic piece of important Philippine History."
"I agree. There's more to just going to see the Holy Infant Jesus of Prague, which is the regular itinerary of the many Filipinos I know who travel to Prague." (For all of you out there planning to travel to Prague at any time in the future, please allow me and Mila to get your itinerary planned for this historic event.)
Last week, upon reading my blog on Rizal, the writer and literary critic Allen Gaborro exclaimed, "Who would expect a Rizal Park in the middle of a small ancient town square in an obscure town of the Czech Republic?"
Back at the town square tourist booth, we returned to buy some postcards. I found one that showed the square in 1840. Close enough for me.
Among the goods, postcards, and maps was a monograph of the "Last Farewell" by Dr. Jose Rizal translated in Czech. The glossy cover had a lovely bust image of Dr.l Jose Rizal. This is the bust found inside the Mayor's office. Truth be told, this cover monograph is better a thousand -fold than the images of any Rizal bust found in the Philippines. I'm sure of that.
I bought a copy for 48 Krowns. I wish I had purchased more.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Visit to Litomérice: In The Shadow of Dr. José Rizal Slideshow
Visit to Litomérice: In The Shadow of Dr. José Rizal Slideshow: "TripAdvisor™ TripWow ★ Visit to Litomérice: In The Shadow of Dr. José Rizal Slideshow ★ to Prague by Penélope V. Flores. Stunning free travel slideshows on TripAdvisor"
Budapest, Esztergom, Szentendre, Visegrad Slideshow
Budapest, Esztergom, Szentendre, Visegrad Slideshow: "TripAdvisor™ TripWow ★ Budapest, Esztergom, Szentendre, Visegrad Slideshow ★ to Rome and Budapest by Penélope V Flores. Stunning free travel slideshows on TripAdvisor"
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Leitmeritz, Austria is now Litomérice, Czech Republic
My Luvosîce Moment
Penélope V. Flores*
Luvosîce: July 19, 2010
Stunned from too little sleep, I blinked at the giant folio before me. My imagination is most vivid at times like this when I feel a strong connection to my roots. Memories and historical facts feel organically raw. It is hard not to be sentimental in a place like Luvosicé, three kilometers away from Litomérice. Standing there, the polished stone floor of the archive building was likened to a Sahara. My knees began to buckle. Here I am, halfway across the world facing a dark Morocco leather- bound book register. It is Folio XVII. On it’s open pages, I noted the fine delicate flourish of a signature. It showed half-way down the page on leaf IV B 8:
Máximo Viola of the Philippines (Bulacan).
I relive the visit of my ancestor for a moment. At age 26, Maximo Viola just completed his medical degree from Barcelona, Spain and was traveling with his good friend to Leitmeritz, an Austrian town of Bohemia. (At present, it is known as Litomérice, the Gateway to Bohemia, Czech Republic).
The two friends were visiting the Filipinist scholar, Dr. Ferdinand Blumentriit., who was the director of the Litomérice school.
Why this interest in Viola? Dr. Viola is my grandmother’s (Juliana Viola) older brother. I had waited years to undertake this personal journey in order to savor this moment as I traced the peripatetic footsteps of a young Ilustrado.
Ah, but wait!
Just above my granduncle’s signature, clearly another entry on the book is recognizable by the current 81 million Filipinos in the home country. The penmanship showed a very firm hand. The name was written at a slight incline ending with a strong downward and very magnetic stroke. It read:
José Rizal of the Philippines (Calamba).
Leitmeritz 16 May 1887.
My hair,which is normally limp and straight, curled like tendrils that darted off in four squiggly directions. Filled with strong emotions, I turned the other way, smearing my eye-mascara with a hurried tear.
At this point, the manager of the State Regional Archive, Ms. Jana Shejbalová, came over to my side and wrote down the name of the folio:
Gedenbuch der Königlichen Kreisstadt Leitmeritz (1840-1900).
The title page was written in High German script. Jana explained that the town of Litomérice had transferred the 19th century folio to her a couple of years ago.
“It’s a lucky coincidence,” she declared, “that you came today (Monday) because on the other days of the week, this archive is closed.”
The imposing registry is wider than my torso (shoulder to shoulder). When I held my arm forward as a unit of measure, the length went from my shoulder socket to the tip of my hand. As it spread open to the page the heavy registry book took the whole space of a 45 by 45 inch table desk. The Gedenbuch has a 5-inch back spine.
My thoughts began to unfasten as I fingered the page. Our national hero, Dr. José Rizal’s hand brushed this very page as he registered his signature 123 years ago (2010-1887). An ancient doorbell rang inside my liver. Yes, indeed. In the ancient pre-hispanic Filipino belief, the liver (kasing-kasing: not the heart) is the center of emotions. (The etymology of the word Kasintahan literally means the joining of livers.)
I heard the bell’s hushed vibration announcing in very dramatic resonance:
“You have just traced the exact page where our national hero, José Rizal, leaned on his arm and moved his writing hand across this very paper surface.”
That was my Luvosîce moment. I looked incredibly at my trembling hands.
“I won’t wash off the golden and historical aura emanating from this arm,” I swore.
“(Mag pu punas-punas na lang).”
For years this Leitmeritz (Litomérice) registry book might have lain under the eaves of the cavernous Town Hall library, occasionally to be taken down for reference by somebody, mostly historians from some universities in the Philippines; usually shepherded by recently appointed Philippine ambassadors, consuls and diplomats from Prague. But here I am, an ordinary citizen, with no embassy connections, no previous official scheduled appointment, unheralded except accompanied by my good friend Miloslav of Trebotov, a suburb of Prague, perusing the huge same book where our national hero registered his presence as a Filipino.
Back in Litomérice, I asked where Hotel Krebs was. According to Viola’s memoirs (1927), he and Rizal were billeted there in Room 12, during their May 1887 visit. The gentleman at the tourist information booth automatically corrected me.
“There’s no Hotel Krebs in Litomérice.”
“But there was one here in front of the town plaza a century and a quarter ago, “ I insisted with professorial authority.
He pointed across from the town square.
“There’s the former Hotel Rak if that’s what you mean”
According to historian Ambeth Ocampo who visited this building a couple of years ago (2008), the ground floor of the old hotel had become a bank. However, now (2010) it has morphed into a shabby commercial storefront. The outside neon sign read:
Obchodní Centrum
ROSSMANN
Miloslav (I call him Mila) Smida and I sauntered in. The shopping center at best displayed mostly made-in -China clothing.
The old “Hotel Rak” squats like a green box turtle, topped with a red tile roof with shell-shaped dormers on the top 4th floor. The confusion may have been due to the fact that “Rak” is not a “crab” but a “crayfish”. My Lolo Imo (Maximo) and most possibly Rizal were lacking in the German language nuance and could not have sufficiently distinguished the difference between a crab and a crayfish. As a consequence he wrote what came to them : “kreb” or “crab”.
Mila, who is a talented cartoonist, quickly and deftly sketched a pen-and-ink illustration of the crayfish and the 1887 visit of two young Filipino doctors and the Professor from Leitmeritz (See attachment, in future blog).
In addition, to make an impression he suggested:
“I may be wrong, but please inquire from your Ministry of Culture and Education for the correct information. Here this hotel has always been known as Hotel Rak. It's understandable that your historians depend solely on original written sources. However, if initial errors are inadvertently made, it is replicated over and over again. “
“No one bothered to ask us, locals,” he added with a wink.
It was already 3 pm. We started the trip at 10:00 am, July 19th 2010. Before repairing back to Prague, we lunched on cream of asparagus soup and fresh grilled river trout with potatoes and salad greens at a pleine-aire restaurant on Litomérice’s ancient and historic town square.
As we drove back to Prague, Mila made a brief stop at a pristine lake. On the distance I saw the shadow of an island. My granduncle’s diary said, there was an island here where Blumentritt’s family and friend hosted a picnic for the two Filipinos before they left for Dresden.
In my next chapter, I write about Ferdinand Blumentritt’s plaque and the bust of Jose Rizal that overlooks a green square on Litomérice's Rizal Park.
*NOTE: Luvosîce, (pronounced Lu-VOH-zyeet-she) is 3 km east of Litomérici, (pronounced Lee TOH myer-zheet-seh) which is an hour’s drive or 57 km from Prague, Czech Republic. A century ago, this town was known as Leitmeritz and was part of Austria. In this ancient Bohemian town, Dr. Jose Rizal and his friend Dr. Maximo Viola traveled to meet with Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt.
Penélope V. Flores*
Luvosîce: July 19, 2010
Stunned from too little sleep, I blinked at the giant folio before me. My imagination is most vivid at times like this when I feel a strong connection to my roots. Memories and historical facts feel organically raw. It is hard not to be sentimental in a place like Luvosicé, three kilometers away from Litomérice. Standing there, the polished stone floor of the archive building was likened to a Sahara. My knees began to buckle. Here I am, halfway across the world facing a dark Morocco leather- bound book register. It is Folio XVII. On it’s open pages, I noted the fine delicate flourish of a signature. It showed half-way down the page on leaf IV B 8:
Máximo Viola of the Philippines (Bulacan).
I relive the visit of my ancestor for a moment. At age 26, Maximo Viola just completed his medical degree from Barcelona, Spain and was traveling with his good friend to Leitmeritz, an Austrian town of Bohemia. (At present, it is known as Litomérice, the Gateway to Bohemia, Czech Republic).
The two friends were visiting the Filipinist scholar, Dr. Ferdinand Blumentriit., who was the director of the Litomérice school.
Why this interest in Viola? Dr. Viola is my grandmother’s (Juliana Viola) older brother. I had waited years to undertake this personal journey in order to savor this moment as I traced the peripatetic footsteps of a young Ilustrado.
Ah, but wait!
Just above my granduncle’s signature, clearly another entry on the book is recognizable by the current 81 million Filipinos in the home country. The penmanship showed a very firm hand. The name was written at a slight incline ending with a strong downward and very magnetic stroke. It read:
José Rizal of the Philippines (Calamba).
Leitmeritz 16 May 1887.
My hair,which is normally limp and straight, curled like tendrils that darted off in four squiggly directions. Filled with strong emotions, I turned the other way, smearing my eye-mascara with a hurried tear.
At this point, the manager of the State Regional Archive, Ms. Jana Shejbalová, came over to my side and wrote down the name of the folio:
Gedenbuch der Königlichen Kreisstadt Leitmeritz (1840-1900).
The title page was written in High German script. Jana explained that the town of Litomérice had transferred the 19th century folio to her a couple of years ago.
“It’s a lucky coincidence,” she declared, “that you came today (Monday) because on the other days of the week, this archive is closed.”
The imposing registry is wider than my torso (shoulder to shoulder). When I held my arm forward as a unit of measure, the length went from my shoulder socket to the tip of my hand. As it spread open to the page the heavy registry book took the whole space of a 45 by 45 inch table desk. The Gedenbuch has a 5-inch back spine.
My thoughts began to unfasten as I fingered the page. Our national hero, Dr. José Rizal’s hand brushed this very page as he registered his signature 123 years ago (2010-1887). An ancient doorbell rang inside my liver. Yes, indeed. In the ancient pre-hispanic Filipino belief, the liver (kasing-kasing: not the heart) is the center of emotions. (The etymology of the word Kasintahan literally means the joining of livers.)
I heard the bell’s hushed vibration announcing in very dramatic resonance:
“You have just traced the exact page where our national hero, José Rizal, leaned on his arm and moved his writing hand across this very paper surface.”
That was my Luvosîce moment. I looked incredibly at my trembling hands.
“I won’t wash off the golden and historical aura emanating from this arm,” I swore.
“(Mag pu punas-punas na lang).”
For years this Leitmeritz (Litomérice) registry book might have lain under the eaves of the cavernous Town Hall library, occasionally to be taken down for reference by somebody, mostly historians from some universities in the Philippines; usually shepherded by recently appointed Philippine ambassadors, consuls and diplomats from Prague. But here I am, an ordinary citizen, with no embassy connections, no previous official scheduled appointment, unheralded except accompanied by my good friend Miloslav of Trebotov, a suburb of Prague, perusing the huge same book where our national hero registered his presence as a Filipino.
Back in Litomérice, I asked where Hotel Krebs was. According to Viola’s memoirs (1927), he and Rizal were billeted there in Room 12, during their May 1887 visit. The gentleman at the tourist information booth automatically corrected me.
“There’s no Hotel Krebs in Litomérice.”
“But there was one here in front of the town plaza a century and a quarter ago, “ I insisted with professorial authority.
He pointed across from the town square.
“There’s the former Hotel Rak if that’s what you mean”
According to historian Ambeth Ocampo who visited this building a couple of years ago (2008), the ground floor of the old hotel had become a bank. However, now (2010) it has morphed into a shabby commercial storefront. The outside neon sign read:
Obchodní Centrum
ROSSMANN
Miloslav (I call him Mila) Smida and I sauntered in. The shopping center at best displayed mostly made-in -China clothing.
The old “Hotel Rak” squats like a green box turtle, topped with a red tile roof with shell-shaped dormers on the top 4th floor. The confusion may have been due to the fact that “Rak” is not a “crab” but a “crayfish”. My Lolo Imo (Maximo) and most possibly Rizal were lacking in the German language nuance and could not have sufficiently distinguished the difference between a crab and a crayfish. As a consequence he wrote what came to them : “kreb” or “crab”.
Mila, who is a talented cartoonist, quickly and deftly sketched a pen-and-ink illustration of the crayfish and the 1887 visit of two young Filipino doctors and the Professor from Leitmeritz (See attachment, in future blog).
In addition, to make an impression he suggested:
“I may be wrong, but please inquire from your Ministry of Culture and Education for the correct information. Here this hotel has always been known as Hotel Rak. It's understandable that your historians depend solely on original written sources. However, if initial errors are inadvertently made, it is replicated over and over again. “
“No one bothered to ask us, locals,” he added with a wink.
It was already 3 pm. We started the trip at 10:00 am, July 19th 2010. Before repairing back to Prague, we lunched on cream of asparagus soup and fresh grilled river trout with potatoes and salad greens at a pleine-aire restaurant on Litomérice’s ancient and historic town square.
As we drove back to Prague, Mila made a brief stop at a pristine lake. On the distance I saw the shadow of an island. My granduncle’s diary said, there was an island here where Blumentritt’s family and friend hosted a picnic for the two Filipinos before they left for Dresden.
In my next chapter, I write about Ferdinand Blumentritt’s plaque and the bust of Jose Rizal that overlooks a green square on Litomérice's Rizal Park.
*NOTE: Luvosîce, (pronounced Lu-VOH-zyeet-she) is 3 km east of Litomérici, (pronounced Lee TOH myer-zheet-seh) which is an hour’s drive or 57 km from Prague, Czech Republic. A century ago, this town was known as Leitmeritz and was part of Austria. In this ancient Bohemian town, Dr. Jose Rizal and his friend Dr. Maximo Viola traveled to meet with Dr. Ferdinand Blumentritt.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Tracing Jose Rizal's Footsteps, Madrid 1882-1887.
For the great many of you who had visited Madrid, Spain, I have a question for you.
Did you know that the Philippine Embassy in Madrid has an organized tour of the apartments, residences, restaurants, clubs, and other places where our National Hero, Dr. Jose Rizal had spent during his student days from 1882 to 1887?
Did you know that the Philippine Embassy in Madrid has an organized tour of the apartments, residences, restaurants, clubs, and other places where our National Hero, Dr. Jose Rizal had spent during his student days from 1882 to 1887?
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Christmas. Sonart Group, 2009 Album Slideshow
Christmas. Sonart Group, 2009 Album Slideshow: "TripAdvisor™ TripWow ★ Christmas. Sonart Group, 2009 Album Slideshow ★ to San Francisco by Pfloressfsuedu. Stunning free travel slideshows on TripAdvisor"
Rizal's Noli me Tangere's printing cost
Mr Vicente Marquez, CPA, of 1200 Bayhill Drive, San Bruno, California must have been bitten hard by my blogspot on Dr. Jose Rizal's Noli me Tangere story.
Not only did he calculate the annual compounded interest (at 3% and 5% respectively) of Dr. Rizal's debt to Dr. Maximo Viola regarding the printing cost of his novel. Vic went one step further and computed the monetary value at that period in time. He did this ingeniously by pegging it to the Gold Standard.
See below:
"The Spanish currency was used in the Philippines during the 300 years of
Spanish dominion. In 1869, Spain joined the Latin Monetary Union, where in
1873 only the gold standard applied. According to this standard, one peseta
is equal to 0.290322 grams of gold.
In today's dollar, one gram of gold is equal to US$39.90. If Maximo Viola's
peseta is equivalent to .290322 grams of gold, then I think we can express
your 12,072 pesetas x .290322 x 39.90 =US$139,84033.
Or your 133,593
pesetas x .290322 x 39.90=$US$1,547,521.11."
WOW! That's a million and a half whooping dollar debt.
Pete Fuentecilla of Queens, New York, former Editor of Mekong Circle International Newsletter, posed some questions and offered some suggestions:
"I suggest you contact a trade or investment officer at any Spanish U.S. consulate or their embassy.
Did the Spaniards issue "Philippine" pesetas for colonial use (in the Philippines) or used the regular spanish peseta of that time for their other colonial properties -- Cuba and Puerto Rico ?"
To anyone out there with answers, please send in your comments. Thanks.
Happy RIzal Day celebration.
Not only did he calculate the annual compounded interest (at 3% and 5% respectively) of Dr. Rizal's debt to Dr. Maximo Viola regarding the printing cost of his novel. Vic went one step further and computed the monetary value at that period in time. He did this ingeniously by pegging it to the Gold Standard.
See below:
"The Spanish currency was used in the Philippines during the 300 years of
Spanish dominion. In 1869, Spain joined the Latin Monetary Union, where in
1873 only the gold standard applied. According to this standard, one peseta
is equal to 0.290322 grams of gold.
In today's dollar, one gram of gold is equal to US$39.90. If Maximo Viola's
peseta is equivalent to .290322 grams of gold, then I think we can express
your 12,072 pesetas x .290322 x 39.90 =US$139,84033.
Or your 133,593
pesetas x .290322 x 39.90=$US$1,547,521.11."
WOW! That's a million and a half whooping dollar debt.
Pete Fuentecilla of Queens, New York, former Editor of Mekong Circle International Newsletter, posed some questions and offered some suggestions:
"I suggest you contact a trade or investment officer at any Spanish U.S. consulate or their embassy.
Did the Spaniards issue "Philippine" pesetas for colonial use (in the Philippines) or used the regular spanish peseta of that time for their other colonial properties -- Cuba and Puerto Rico ?"
To anyone out there with answers, please send in your comments. Thanks.
Happy RIzal Day celebration.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Jose Rizal's Noli me Tangere
Dr. Jose Rizal received a loan of 300 pesetas from his friend Dr. Maximo Viola to publish Noli me Tangere. The novel "Noli me Tangere" (1887) from the Latin "touch me not" described the earth-shaking socially and politically sorry conditions of the colonized Filipinos. This novel fired the imagination of the leaders of the Philippine Revolution.
When the descendants of Jose Rizal realized i was a descendant of Maximo Viola, they asked tongue-in-check if I was trying to collect on this long extended debt (see blog june 26).
I posed a question to my accountant, Mr Vic Marquez, to compute the amount of this debt if paid today. He replied:
"Since I do not know yet how to convert Philippine pesetas during the Spanish time into modern Philippine peso, I can only give you the future value of that 300 pesetas:
300 pesetas at 3 per cent compounded annually for 125 years will be equivalent to 12,072 pesetas.
300 pesetas at 5 per cent compounded annually for 125 years will be equivalent to 133,593 pesetas.
Bik Marquez".
This is only the monetary value in absolute numbers. We still have to do the foreign exchange currency conversions. However, the psychic benefit, which can never be accounted for in terms of monetary value, must be too red-hot to handle.
When the descendants of Jose Rizal realized i was a descendant of Maximo Viola, they asked tongue-in-check if I was trying to collect on this long extended debt (see blog june 26).
I posed a question to my accountant, Mr Vic Marquez, to compute the amount of this debt if paid today. He replied:
"Since I do not know yet how to convert Philippine pesetas during the Spanish time into modern Philippine peso, I can only give you the future value of that 300 pesetas:
300 pesetas at 3 per cent compounded annually for 125 years will be equivalent to 12,072 pesetas.
300 pesetas at 5 per cent compounded annually for 125 years will be equivalent to 133,593 pesetas.
Bik Marquez".
This is only the monetary value in absolute numbers. We still have to do the foreign exchange currency conversions. However, the psychic benefit, which can never be accounted for in terms of monetary value, must be too red-hot to handle.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
On Rizal
The Dr. Maximo Viola (Penelope V. Flores) / Dr. Jose Rizal (Patricia Laurel) connection.
History repeats itself.
Photo below. Seated: Penelope V. Flores, Gemma Cruz-Araneta
Standing: John David Jara, Patricia Laurel, Jane Inocencio, Chiara Inocencio
June is Dr. Jose Rizal's birth anniversary. I take this opportunity to relive my own family connection with the Philippine National Hero. I do this by reproducing an editorial written by Patricia Laurel, editor of Art In Site Magazine, Manila, Philippines. It is an incredible narrative of our respective ancestors' connection with Dr. Jose Rizal and an uncanny meeting last May 21st, 2009, Manila Hotel, Philippines.
"Message from Patricia Laurel. Editor, Art In Site Magazine" with Penélope’s Annotation
What are the odds of two complete strangers meeting in the year 2009 for the first time, finding themselves in similar circumstances, as did their male ancestors more than 100 years ago?
PENELOPE'S ANNOTATION: Exactly 123 years ago. (May 1886 to May 2009).
The only difference in the similarity of this incredible tale is that the ancestors were friends and colleagues, and the women descendants had never met until recently. Instead of the usual welcoming message and what to expect in this first online edition, AIS would like to share our experience this past May (2009), and give thanks to those who value and care for our culture and the arts.
Read on . . .
“It revived me,” said Rizal. “It gave me new hope. I went to the station to receive him and spoke to him about my work. He said he might be able to help me. I reflected and then decided to shorten the book, and eliminated whole chapters . . . but these will have a place in the continuation . . . I plan to publish seven volumes about Philippine conditions.” (Translated from Jose Rizal’s notes)
“To my dear friend, Maximo Viola, the first to read and appreciate my work - Jose Rizal, March 29, 1887, Berlin” (Rizal’s dedication to Maximo Viola written on the galley proofs of Noli Me Tangere.)
Message below was posted on AIS ezine:
Penelope V. Flores
Date: 2009-05-10 17:44:46
I want to congratulate the persons behind the idea of the art in site magazine, including the creation of the Manila Center for the Arts. I will be visiting Manila this month (May/June) and would love to get in touch with the organizers. I’m a professor at San Francisco State University where I work with graduate teachers. I’m interested in meeting the young brilliant visual artists, creative writers and musical talents of our country. I look forward to meeting you all.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: I was attracted by the idea of a Manila Center for the Arts. Could it be similar to the School Of The Arts (SOTA) here in San Francisco?
The dwindling staff of Art in Site Magazine, waited at the lobby of the Manila Hotel on the day of the appointed meeting with Penelope Flores. They put aside the reality that things were not going well with the magazine to meet with the professor from San Francisco State University.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: The Center was but a bold idea, however the publication was a tangible product. I was impressed with the Art In Site magazine. The articles were well written; the quality images attractive, and the overall presentation commanded respect.
Indeed, prospects were not bright and cheery for the continuation of Art in Site. The publication was in danger of being known as the one-time, one-hit run culture and the arts magazine - awaiting the inevitable throes of the death rattle. (For more details, please refer to previous online message from the editor.)
Enter Penelope, radiating with a lively exuberance that will stay with us nay sayers for a long time. Infected with the professor’s happy attitude at meeting the staff and being back home, the stooped-shoulders demeanor of the staff straightened, replaced by equal enthusiasm, but not quite up to par with that of the smiling lady, wearing a barong decked with pearls.
Penelope had arranged a tour of the Douglas MacArthur suite, but first invited the staff up to her room to get more acquainted, and to learn more about the magazine. She asked and received an earful of doom and gloom scenario from the business manager.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Filipinas Magazine editor, Gemma Nemenzo gave me an assignment to visit Manila Hotel's penthouse and submit an article about MacArthur’s Suite for the October 2009 issue.
The flow of conversation moved on to another topic.
Snippets of the conversation between the editor and Penelope went something like this:
Penelope: My husband and I had planned a trip to Germany, in particular Berlin, to research and trace the footsteps of Jose Rizal where Noli Me Tangere was published.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Manuel Flores and I recently completed a pictorial article of the apartments and places visited by Jose Rizal in Madrid: circa 1884-1886.
Editor: That’s interesting. Maybe I can be of help there. I lived and worked in Germany, and went to school in Heidelberg. (Editor looked hesitantly at her business manager, unsure of whether to continue.) My great grandmother, Maria, was the sister of Jose Rizal. I can also ask other family members for more information to help you in your research, if you like.
Penelope stared at the editor incredulously.
PENELOPE'S ANNOTATION: Cool. I'm now having a conversation with Rizal's great-grand niece.
Penelope: My great grandmother was the sister of Maximo Viola.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Maximo Viola's sister Juliana Viola (who married a Villarica) was my grandmother, not great grandma. I’m much older, in fact, a generation above that of my newly minted friend, Patti. Loaded with my huge ego and super vanity, I don't correct her.
Editor: The name is familiar. Wasn’t he a friend of Rizal’s? Oh, wow! This is too incredible! (Editor’s eyes go wide and smacked her forehead as realization sank in.) It’s a good thing I have an idea of the family’s history. That would be embarrassing if I didn’t!
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Amazing! Patti Laurel, the editor, remembered the connection between Viola and Rizal! Precious few people barely learned this small historical footnote.
Penelope: My great-great uncle financed the publication of your great-great uncle’s book, Noli Me Tangere. Rizal considered it a loan, but Viola refused payment. It was agreed the money should be used for a worthy cause.
Editor: Naninigil po ba kayo? (Are you collecting on the debt?)
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Viola lent Rizal 300 pesetas. Viola canvassed Berlin for a reasonably prized printer. Noli me Tangere being considered a subversive novel, it would have been impossible to find a printer in Spain.
Laughter, the cure-for-all heartaches, took over and an atmosphere of unity and a bond was formed between Penelope and the staff of AIS.
Former Part-time AIS business manager and voice of the Filipino underdog, Jane Inocencio, took it as a cue and stepped up to the plate, not showing any qualms about speaking up. She reiterated the severe lack of funds of Art in Site, the official publication of the future Manila Center for the Arts.
Penelope nodded in understanding and invited the staff to a buffet dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. Well, that was that. Jane tried her best, like she always did. Resigned once again to the eventuality of the magazine’s demise, the staff sat down to dinner and enjoyed the company of their hostess.
Penelope: I will help you.
The editor excused herself. When she returned, she smacked her forehead again in habit.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Patti must have broadcasted this incredible happenstance to her cousin Gemma Cruz Araneta, ( a Philippine icon in her own right), who was another of Maria Rizal’s descendants. She soon joined us at Manila Hotel (see picture above).
Editor: It’s a sign! Our meeting today happened for a reason. Penelope, our ancestors must have had a meeting up in the cosmos. Your great-great uncle reached out to you in your dreams and told you that his friend’s descendant was in need of help.
Penelope, an author and artist, who seldom reads her email, and only opened the one forwarded AIS email invitation blast from PAWA (Philippine American Writers and Artists) to view the site, overwhelmingly agreed. Is it divine intervention or the musings of an insane, worrywart, overworked imagination of an editor? Call it what you will, but something was at work out there and it was a sign that the work must continue, come hell or high water.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Gemma Cruz-Araneta gave me a copy of her book: Stones of Faith: Roman Catholic Churches in the Philippines. Les Pierres De La Foi. She autographed a moving message on the frontispage:
To Penelope V. Flores –
History repeats itself if I may say so. All good wishes. Our ancestors must be smiling. Gemma
21, May 2009
Manila
Today, we are still in the red, and the printer continues to bang loudly on the door, demanding payment for the remaining balance of the first publication of the magazine. But one thing remains certain - we have our Penelope cheering us on until we get to the light at the end of the tunnel. She is the catalyst that gave us the courage and the drive to push through. She arrived in the nick time to the rescue of this editor desperately grasping at straws and on the verge of ending this worthwhile project.
The editorial staff of Art in Site Magazine wishes to dedicate the first online edition to our champion in difficult economic times, Penelope Flores, without whose generous support would have sunk us deeper into the depths of oblivion. Our hats off to you, Penelope!
PENELOPE'S Blog Message:
Let's celebrate Dr Jose Rizal Holiday. Greetings to you all.
History repeats itself.
Photo below. Seated: Penelope V. Flores, Gemma Cruz-Araneta
Standing: John David Jara, Patricia Laurel, Jane Inocencio, Chiara Inocencio
June is Dr. Jose Rizal's birth anniversary. I take this opportunity to relive my own family connection with the Philippine National Hero. I do this by reproducing an editorial written by Patricia Laurel, editor of Art In Site Magazine, Manila, Philippines. It is an incredible narrative of our respective ancestors' connection with Dr. Jose Rizal and an uncanny meeting last May 21st, 2009, Manila Hotel, Philippines.
"Message from Patricia Laurel. Editor, Art In Site Magazine" with Penélope’s Annotation
What are the odds of two complete strangers meeting in the year 2009 for the first time, finding themselves in similar circumstances, as did their male ancestors more than 100 years ago?
PENELOPE'S ANNOTATION: Exactly 123 years ago. (May 1886 to May 2009).
The only difference in the similarity of this incredible tale is that the ancestors were friends and colleagues, and the women descendants had never met until recently. Instead of the usual welcoming message and what to expect in this first online edition, AIS would like to share our experience this past May (2009), and give thanks to those who value and care for our culture and the arts.
Read on . . .
“It revived me,” said Rizal. “It gave me new hope. I went to the station to receive him and spoke to him about my work. He said he might be able to help me. I reflected and then decided to shorten the book, and eliminated whole chapters . . . but these will have a place in the continuation . . . I plan to publish seven volumes about Philippine conditions.” (Translated from Jose Rizal’s notes)
“To my dear friend, Maximo Viola, the first to read and appreciate my work - Jose Rizal, March 29, 1887, Berlin” (Rizal’s dedication to Maximo Viola written on the galley proofs of Noli Me Tangere.)
Message below was posted on AIS ezine:
Penelope V. Flores
Date: 2009-05-10 17:44:46
I want to congratulate the persons behind the idea of the art in site magazine, including the creation of the Manila Center for the Arts. I will be visiting Manila this month (May/June) and would love to get in touch with the organizers. I’m a professor at San Francisco State University where I work with graduate teachers. I’m interested in meeting the young brilliant visual artists, creative writers and musical talents of our country. I look forward to meeting you all.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: I was attracted by the idea of a Manila Center for the Arts. Could it be similar to the School Of The Arts (SOTA) here in San Francisco?
The dwindling staff of Art in Site Magazine, waited at the lobby of the Manila Hotel on the day of the appointed meeting with Penelope Flores. They put aside the reality that things were not going well with the magazine to meet with the professor from San Francisco State University.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: The Center was but a bold idea, however the publication was a tangible product. I was impressed with the Art In Site magazine. The articles were well written; the quality images attractive, and the overall presentation commanded respect.
Indeed, prospects were not bright and cheery for the continuation of Art in Site. The publication was in danger of being known as the one-time, one-hit run culture and the arts magazine - awaiting the inevitable throes of the death rattle. (For more details, please refer to previous online message from the editor.)
Enter Penelope, radiating with a lively exuberance that will stay with us nay sayers for a long time. Infected with the professor’s happy attitude at meeting the staff and being back home, the stooped-shoulders demeanor of the staff straightened, replaced by equal enthusiasm, but not quite up to par with that of the smiling lady, wearing a barong decked with pearls.
Penelope had arranged a tour of the Douglas MacArthur suite, but first invited the staff up to her room to get more acquainted, and to learn more about the magazine. She asked and received an earful of doom and gloom scenario from the business manager.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Filipinas Magazine editor, Gemma Nemenzo gave me an assignment to visit Manila Hotel's penthouse and submit an article about MacArthur’s Suite for the October 2009 issue.
The flow of conversation moved on to another topic.
Snippets of the conversation between the editor and Penelope went something like this:
Penelope: My husband and I had planned a trip to Germany, in particular Berlin, to research and trace the footsteps of Jose Rizal where Noli Me Tangere was published.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Manuel Flores and I recently completed a pictorial article of the apartments and places visited by Jose Rizal in Madrid: circa 1884-1886.
Editor: That’s interesting. Maybe I can be of help there. I lived and worked in Germany, and went to school in Heidelberg. (Editor looked hesitantly at her business manager, unsure of whether to continue.) My great grandmother, Maria, was the sister of Jose Rizal. I can also ask other family members for more information to help you in your research, if you like.
Penelope stared at the editor incredulously.
PENELOPE'S ANNOTATION: Cool. I'm now having a conversation with Rizal's great-grand niece.
Penelope: My great grandmother was the sister of Maximo Viola.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Maximo Viola's sister Juliana Viola (who married a Villarica) was my grandmother, not great grandma. I’m much older, in fact, a generation above that of my newly minted friend, Patti. Loaded with my huge ego and super vanity, I don't correct her.
Editor: The name is familiar. Wasn’t he a friend of Rizal’s? Oh, wow! This is too incredible! (Editor’s eyes go wide and smacked her forehead as realization sank in.) It’s a good thing I have an idea of the family’s history. That would be embarrassing if I didn’t!
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Amazing! Patti Laurel, the editor, remembered the connection between Viola and Rizal! Precious few people barely learned this small historical footnote.
Penelope: My great-great uncle financed the publication of your great-great uncle’s book, Noli Me Tangere. Rizal considered it a loan, but Viola refused payment. It was agreed the money should be used for a worthy cause.
Editor: Naninigil po ba kayo? (Are you collecting on the debt?)
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Viola lent Rizal 300 pesetas. Viola canvassed Berlin for a reasonably prized printer. Noli me Tangere being considered a subversive novel, it would have been impossible to find a printer in Spain.
Laughter, the cure-for-all heartaches, took over and an atmosphere of unity and a bond was formed between Penelope and the staff of AIS.
Former Part-time AIS business manager and voice of the Filipino underdog, Jane Inocencio, took it as a cue and stepped up to the plate, not showing any qualms about speaking up. She reiterated the severe lack of funds of Art in Site, the official publication of the future Manila Center for the Arts.
Penelope nodded in understanding and invited the staff to a buffet dinner at the hotel’s restaurant. Well, that was that. Jane tried her best, like she always did. Resigned once again to the eventuality of the magazine’s demise, the staff sat down to dinner and enjoyed the company of their hostess.
Penelope: I will help you.
The editor excused herself. When she returned, she smacked her forehead again in habit.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Patti must have broadcasted this incredible happenstance to her cousin Gemma Cruz Araneta, ( a Philippine icon in her own right), who was another of Maria Rizal’s descendants. She soon joined us at Manila Hotel (see picture above).
Editor: It’s a sign! Our meeting today happened for a reason. Penelope, our ancestors must have had a meeting up in the cosmos. Your great-great uncle reached out to you in your dreams and told you that his friend’s descendant was in need of help.
Penelope, an author and artist, who seldom reads her email, and only opened the one forwarded AIS email invitation blast from PAWA (Philippine American Writers and Artists) to view the site, overwhelmingly agreed. Is it divine intervention or the musings of an insane, worrywart, overworked imagination of an editor? Call it what you will, but something was at work out there and it was a sign that the work must continue, come hell or high water.
PENELOPE’S ANNOTATION: Gemma Cruz-Araneta gave me a copy of her book: Stones of Faith: Roman Catholic Churches in the Philippines. Les Pierres De La Foi. She autographed a moving message on the frontispage:
To Penelope V. Flores –
History repeats itself if I may say so. All good wishes. Our ancestors must be smiling. Gemma
21, May 2009
Manila
Today, we are still in the red, and the printer continues to bang loudly on the door, demanding payment for the remaining balance of the first publication of the magazine. But one thing remains certain - we have our Penelope cheering us on until we get to the light at the end of the tunnel. She is the catalyst that gave us the courage and the drive to push through. She arrived in the nick time to the rescue of this editor desperately grasping at straws and on the verge of ending this worthwhile project.
The editorial staff of Art in Site Magazine wishes to dedicate the first online edition to our champion in difficult economic times, Penelope Flores, without whose generous support would have sunk us deeper into the depths of oblivion. Our hats off to you, Penelope!
PENELOPE'S Blog Message:
Let's celebrate Dr Jose Rizal Holiday. Greetings to you all.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Yesterday, at the Daly City Toyota Smog Test dealership, waiting for my Previa van certification, and twiddling my thumbs, I took out my pad notes and began to write down all the comfort food that my mother used to make. The hungrier I felt, the longer the list became. Then, something startling happened. I discovered a unique pattern of naming our native traditional dishes. I said to myself:
"Look at this. Filipino food names are verbs or a description of the process of cooking."
Dinuguan: stewing meat in vinegar blood (dugo).
Ginataan: cooking in coconut milk (gata).
Kinilaw. or kilawin, marinating fresh raw fish (hilaw).
Nilaga: boiling meat (laga).
Halo-halo: mixing (halo) a variety of several sweets in shaved ice.
Sapin-sapin: layering (sapin) rice pudding.
Sawsawan: dipping sauce (saw-saw)
Inihaw: (broiling).
One can discern foreign influence when the food process verbs became nominalized nouns.
Tortilla (Spanish)
Arrozcaldo: chicken rice soup. (Spanish)
Ensalada: salad (Spanish)
Lumpia: spring roll (Chinese)
Pancit: rice sticks/noodles (Chinese)
Kare-kare: beef tail curry (Indian)
Bistek: beef steak (American)
"Look at this. Filipino food names are verbs or a description of the process of cooking."
Dinuguan: stewing meat in vinegar blood (dugo).
Ginataan: cooking in coconut milk (gata).
Kinilaw. or kilawin, marinating fresh raw fish (hilaw).
Nilaga: boiling meat (laga).
Halo-halo: mixing (halo) a variety of several sweets in shaved ice.
Sapin-sapin: layering (sapin) rice pudding.
Sawsawan: dipping sauce (saw-saw)
Inihaw: (broiling).
One can discern foreign influence when the food process verbs became nominalized nouns.
Tortilla (Spanish)
Arrozcaldo: chicken rice soup. (Spanish)
Ensalada: salad (Spanish)
Lumpia: spring roll (Chinese)
Pancit: rice sticks/noodles (Chinese)
Kare-kare: beef tail curry (Indian)
Bistek: beef steak (American)
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Countdown 20 days before Hungary Trip
I'm excited about going to Eastern Europe. It is very timely. The current Euro exchange rate is 1.22 to a dollar. Time was when (during my Barcelona trip, 2007) the rate was Euro 1.68 to a dollar. I have to rewire the way I note down the dates: day/month/year; learn how to tell time by the 24 hour schedule, and when accounting for money, to convert all decimal points into commas.
I read about the history of Hungary, how they were part of the Austria-Hungary Empire, how their geographical areas were redistributed after World War I, and how the country's borders shrunk in World War II when it joined the Axis powers and Hitler lost the war.
I read about the history of Hungary, how they were part of the Austria-Hungary Empire, how their geographical areas were redistributed after World War I, and how the country's borders shrunk in World War II when it joined the Axis powers and Hitler lost the war.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Penélope's books
Penelope's books:
2. The Philippine Jeepney, A Filipino Family Metaphor, Understanding the Filipino American Family with Co-author Araceli N. Resus (PAWA, Inc., 2008)
3. Whisper of the Bamboo, An Anthology of Philippine American Writers and Artists (PAWA, Inc., 2004)
New Status: Professor Emeritus-SFSU
After having taught for 20 years at SFSU and 13 years at University of Chicago, I'm now enjoying absolutely doing nothing and afterwards resting.
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