An affair with cars and glass
Glass artist Ramon Orlina creates whimsical glass display arts in various shapes and sizes, cuts and colors. Because his glass pieces evoke sophistication and class, scheming “black crows” with their “klepto” claws rush to get a piece of his shiny, shimmering works. His most controversial piece, according to the architect himself, is his 67-piece stylized bird sculpture “Wings of Victory,” which used to hang in one of Singapore’s malls until one day when it just magically disappeared.
Orlina has installed an interactive display system in his recently opened museum in Tagaytay, which aside from his past works, shows a compilation of local YouTube clips of these so-called “crows” stealing his shiny display pieces with ease and nonchalance. In one, a pudgy woman lurks behind the glass doors of a showroom at SM Megamall. In one swift swipe, a small jade Orlina glass sculpture vanished into thin air. Ramon says, “Nobody from the showroom has said anything, nahihiya daw sila sa’kin.” It is no wonder that Museo Orlina in Hollywood Subdivision, Brgy. Tolentino, Tagaytay is heavily guarded.
ART FOR EVERYBODY
In Museo Orlina, there is an amphitheater, sculpture garden, organic coffee shop, and interactive display system. This place is home to a broad spectrum of the arts—sculpture, architecture, music, installation, painting, photography, and performance—nestled in the heart of a tourist spot.
The newly opened four-unit five-level townhouse-turned-museum also serves as a testament of Mon’s ever-evolving artistry. Apparently, some critics say his artworks are outmoded, tired. “Alam mo, Mon, magaling ka. Kaya lang ‘yung mga gawa mo, pare-pareho lang,” people often say. But Mon begs to differ.
Before he made it into an art form, glasses were for utilitarian purposes: drinking vessels, window glass panes, windshields. Mon pioneered the medium and elevated it as respectable artwork. From turning scrap glasses into whimsical display art pieces, the architect has definitely come a long way since he started in the ‘70s.
Every glass masterpiece mimics his playful mindset, from shiny, textured, and colored to matte, smooth, transparent, and etched. “All my works are influenced by my childhood. Lalabas lahat ‘yan later on, eh. So ’pag tinatanong sa’kin ano bang inspiration mo, I say ‘I have a lot,’ from the beginning of my childhood, my comics, my drawings. I also have a great-grandparent who could cut glass, so instead of capiz, glass ang nakalagay sa windows.”
He has also ventured into handcut Swarovski jewelry, bronze and copper sculptures, and metal installations. “I am doing other mediums—I produced a show and I also work with metals so I don’t dwell only in glass sculpture,” says the artist, whose many pursuits include fortune telling and the paranormal. (Yes, he can see ghosts.)
INTO THE GALLERY
But in Mon’s gallery you won’t see ghosts, but reflections and refractions of light through the glasshouse he bought from a friend. Contained in the 370-square-area museum are his collections of celebrated and unfamiliar glass pieces from then and now, sharing space with paintings and sculptures by Olivia d’Aboville, Betsy Westendorp, Leeroy New, and Anne Pamintuan, among others.
The first floor houses the Reflections Gallery, devoted to exhibitions of various artists. While the second and third floors are treasure troves of Mon’s early pieces, favorites, and recent works. The roof deck offers a bird’s eye view of Taal Lake and Volcano. Tucked in the basement of the museum, meanwhile, is his collection of vintage cars, which his friend National Artist for Visual Arts BenCab used as canvas in painting his most iconic subject, Sabel, Ben’s melancholic symbol of despair.
Aside from glass, Mon apparently has an open affair with cars. At his office inside Museo Orlina, you’d find a bed that doubles as a cabinet, housing his collection of miniature Beetle cars. You can see the sparkle in the glass artist’s eyes whenever his eyes would fall on their gleaming fenders. No doubt about it, Mon likes anything shiny.