Wednesday, April 5, 2017

The many colours of our National Museum




When traveling abroad, a museum is always high on my list of must-see places.  Aside from being  the repository of a country's treasures -- I believe that the museum is a mirror of its culture and its soul.   I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I have only just revisited our very own National Museum ... perhaps after more than 40 years.


The National Museum of the Filipino People, as it is properly titled, is located in the old Legislative and Senate Building which was built in the 1920s.  The building was almost completely destroyed when the Americans bombed Manila.  Thankfully, it was restored and renovated and and now
retains much of its original grandeur.


These gorgeous marble rounded columns are just some of the minor changes from the post war renovations.  The Museum, specifically the National Gallery of Art,  moved to this location in 2003 and the building, an architectural work of art in itself, is certainly the best place to hold our nation's masterpieces. 


After you go through the columns, you enter what used to be the old Session Hall of the House of Representatives.  


There are only two paintings in this cavernous space but they are by two of the greatest Filipino painters  -- on the left  is "The Assassination of Governor Bustamante" by Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo, a painting that was based on an actual local historic event.


Across it is the "Spoliarium" by Juan Luna, often called the most important Filipino painter of all time.
Unfortunately it does not depict a local event, as Hidalgo's does, but instead shows all the blood
and gore of the spoliarium or the basement of the Colosseum of Rome.  
I must have been in college when I  first saw this painting, set in a much darker room.
I had an almost physical reaction to it.   I could smell the blood, the sawdust, the sweat that seemed to ooze from the painting.  I remember that I wanted to throw up and leave the room.
But on this occasion, in this well lit and spacious hall, the painting while still magnificent, seemed to have lost some of its gut wrenching effect on me.  


My reveries in front of  Luna's obra maestra were soon interrupted  by dozens of elementary school children who were on a field trip.  It is heartening to see how they are exposed to art at an early age. 


There's one more masterpiece in the hall - a statue of the Winged Victory done by National Artist Guillermo Tolentino.  It's a lady I know only too well -- the original stands at the top of the obelisk
of Bonifacio in Monumento, a place that I passed nearly everyday when I was growing up.


The two massive paintings do not need any other kind of setting than the wide beige expanse
of the Session Hall.
But as I walked through the rest of the rooms and galleries, I noticed that each was painted in a distinctive hue -- one that perfectly complemented the artworks displayed inside.
The first thing I noticed when I entered the vermillion room housing the Fine Arts Collection of the Museum was this wooden statue of my amigo, Santiago -- here in his full Matamoro fierceness.


Aside from his statue,  a marvellous retablo or side altar from Bohol is also on display. The machuca tiles in checkerboard pattern are reminiscent of old spanish churches. 


From vermillion hues, the next room was painted a bright, blazing red.  This room is called the Gallery of the Via Crucis with 14 paintings on wood of the Stations of the Cross.
Done by an unknown Boholano painter, the paintings look so European,  it's hard to think that a Filipino painted them.  The walls match the red colours of Christ's garments in the paintings.
These are part of the collection of the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas   (Philippine Central Bank).


More paintings belonging to the collection are displayed in the next room -- now painted a deep emerald green.  All of the paintings show religious themes --  scenes from the Bible,  various saints and martyrs, several lovely renditions of Our Lady and a smattering of bishops and friars.


My eagle eye spots Amigo Santiago here called Santiago de Galicia, which of course brings back memories of the Camino de Santiago.


The museum's corridors,  painted a cool salmon  are lined with various sculptures. 


It was on this first visit (I would return a few weeks later) that I discovered the genius of a little known (well, at least to me) artist named Isabelo Tampinco.  A contemporary of the more well known painters like Luna, et al he was a remarkably prolific and versatile sculptor  -- making not just statues but even furniture and decorative pieces and of course, ecclesiastical art.
You can find examples of Tampinco's work in the Manila Cathedral and on the molave door of the Sto. Domingo Church.


I fell in love with his many sculptures displayed in the Museum's collection.  They were exquisite pieces that would not have looked out of place in any museum or church abroad.


I was impressed by Tampinco's classically themed pieces but it was his sculptures of Filipino women that completely captivated me and made me a forever fan.


An entire gallery is dedicated to our National Hero, Dr.  Jose Rizal.  With off white walls and wide windows that look out onto the busy street,  the room contains statues, busts, paintings and other memorabilia on display.


I had never seen Jose Rizal in profile -- this portrait is by Fernando Amorsolo, one of our most
noted Philippine painters.


It was poignant to see this small prayer book  that Rizal had left as his final gift to Josephine Bracken.  It is inscribed to his "dearest and unhappy wife". 




The second floor of the Museum is devoted to all the Masters.  A gallery celebrates the work of
Juan Luna, perhaps the most famous son of Badoc, Ilocos Norte -- if you discount his brother, the general of course.
The walls of the Luna Room  are painted a  bright pink -- I think Luna would have approved. 



Next to the Spoliarium, this is probably Luna's second most famous work  -- the portrait of his wife, Paz Pardo de Tavera.  The rosary she clasps in her hands makes this look like a funerary portrait but of course she is not dead -- at least not yet.  



There is wit and humour in Luna's studies of Parisian life.  



Thankfully there were cameras at the turn of the century.  In the Luna room is this huge photo of the master in his studio.



Sharing the same gallery is Luna's contemporary and in my mind, the painter that is most often mentioned in the same breath.  Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo was two years older than Luna 
and they were both in Paris to study and paint at the same time.



Hidalgo's paintings in the museum show scenes from his life in France. 



These scenes of Brittany are beautiful and I must say I cannot understand why people have to argue about who is the better artist between the two -- why compare at all?



Warm, golden yellow walls in the next room hold portraits of presidents, government officials and society ladies.  My very favourite one is a painting by Ramon Peralta of a Filipina in an elegant violet terno.  There is something about her that reminds me of my maternal grandmother, who I never met, but who has a photo showing her in a similar pose and attire. 


Apart from his bucolic scenes of life in the barrio, Fernando Amorsolo painted many presidential portraits.  This is  Manuel Roxas, the fifth president of the Philippines.



It must have been de rigueur to sit for an Amorsolo portrait if you belonged to a certain level of Philippine society.  


I can almost imagine that Amorsolo had just stepped out for a bit -- perhaps to smoke, perhaps to stretch his legs --- as I stood looking at this recreation of his studio, with furniture and brushes that
he actually used.  I waited for a while but he didn't come back.


The galleries on the third floor showcase modernist works.  The corridors are painted in a neutral, cool oatmeal shade, the better to balance off the colours of the various paintings on display.
I love how the wide wooden planks have a warm patina -- and I  wonder who walked these halls before -- surely a number of senators and perhaps even some presidents?


One of my favourite "modern"  painters is the National Artist Vicente Manansala.  His cubist
avant garde style is something I can relate to and understand even if my personal preferences lean  towards the realists and impressionists. 


Manansala's brushes are preserved and displayed in the room along with his paintings.


A separate gallery is solely for his murals which are on loan from Philamlife.
I remember how I would always enjoy viewing these whenever I visited the old Philamlife building in Manila to watch a concert or a performance.  The building has since been closed down and sold.
I'm happy the murals  are on loan to the National Museum so they can be appreciated by a new and younger generation. 


I was lucky to catch the retrospective of the paintings of the realist, Agustin Goy spanning sixty 
years of his career.  A Chinoy from Binondo, Mr. Goy counted Vicente Manansala as his mentor.


The showstopper for me was this utterly serene and majestic ox obviously taking a break from hauling around his covered cart.  I loved the detail and the light that practically infused the animal's skin with a soft glow.  


This water-colour of Marikina  is another of my favourites from the retrospective.  The moss green hues of the walls complemented the verdant hues of the landscape. 


Another favourite was the teal blue room containing the works of E.Aguilar Cruz, also known as Abe, -- artist,  journalist,  diplomat, gourmet, and bon vivant.  Mr. Cruz's sketches and paintings, his letters, books and other memorabilia have been donated by his family to the Museum. 


Stationed in Paris as a diplomat, Abe's watercolors and sketches of his life in my favourite city bring back many happy memories.  My special favourite shows the bouquinistes -- the booksellers that line the sidewalks along the Seine.  The Notre Dame cathedral is a shadowy but recognisable figure in the background.


This pen and ink sketch of a couple of elderly Parisians poring over -- books? pastries? fruits?  -- is just  delightful and perfectly captures a scene that is so familiar in the streets of Paris. 



My visit to The National Museum was a vivid experience -- with  different shades of reds, pink,
greens, blues and yellows exploding in my mind -- and I'm just talking about the colours of the walls!
Come and visit and be dazzled by the varied hues of the genius and spirit of the Filipino as an artist.  



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Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Our Fukuoka Christmas 13 - Wagyu wishes fulfilled at Beef Taigen


Why am I still writing about my Christmas vacation in March?  I procrastinate too much -- putting off writing for tomorrow ... or how about Friday?  Next week?
Well  dear reader, if you thought that you were going to read about Fukuoka till the cows came home ...  here is the absolute last post.  
I hope you will be "moo-lified". 


From the bad puns, you will have guessed what this post is about.
Steak is not high on my list of favourites but once in a "rare" while,  I do get a hankering for a nice piece of beef.  This usually happens when I am in Japan as wagyu -- with its unparalleled marbling, is my beef of choice.  
While westerners may not like wagyu for this very same character,  this is what I feel makes it unique and deliciously different. 
Jay and I were strolling around Canal City when we came upon Beef Taigen, a popular wagyu chain in Fukuoka.  


There were quite a lot of interesting photos outside the restaurant.  This  shows the select group of ranchers from Kagoshima Prefecture who raise the black cows and supply Beef Taigen with all grades of wagyu.
I did a bit of research and discovered that more than two thirds of the black cows in Japan come from Kagoshima.  Of course there are other types of Japanese cows but black cows are what we normally associate wagyu with. 
Kobe and Matsuzaka may be more well known but Kagoshima is the "moo-ther" lode (sorry  for another bad pun!)


A butcher's chart is also displayed outside.  I try to guess what the various parts are but can only come up with the rump (10 or 11?) ) and the tongue or cheeks perhaps, another obvious guess.
Would ribs be number 7?  And is that oblong shape beside the number 15  tenderloin?  
I guess I will never make it to butcher school.


The branch in Canal City is always full of  shoppers and tourists since the prices for meals are very reasonable.   One of the specials is a wagyu hamburg steak for the very attractive price of just 1,100 yen. 



While long queues are normal during lunch and dinner time, we arrive way past noon and are seated right away.  The steak of the day is 3,000 yen which we are told is a 150 gram sirloin.
We order that and a hamburg steak. 


After a while our  lunch trays are brought out.  Jay's sirloin steak setto came with a bowl of rice, miso soup,   salad and three types of condiments -- seasoned salt,  and two types of shoyu based sauces.  Freshly grated wasabi is also included and Jay said that wasabi and salt on steak was a delicious discovery for him. 


I could not quite believe that this generous serving weighed just 150 grams.   Surely they must have made a mistake?  
But the menu clearly stated that all cuts of beef are 150 grams and all orders are served medium rare, unless the customer specifies otherwise.  Medium rare is how we normally order -- 
I think it is the ideal doneness for an excellent cut of steak. 


I had the hamburg steak or hambaagu as the Japanese call it, since the waitress said it was their specialty.  Of course my secret plan was to swipe a piece or two from Jay's sirloin. 
With the combined beefy aromas rising from our respective hot plates, I knew that our clothes would smell of wagyu for the rest of the day. 


The Japanese hambaagu steak should never be thought of as a hamburger steak -- they should not even be mentioned in the same breath.   
Beef Taigen's hambaagu is made with only the best cuts of prime grade wagyu, definitely no gristle, no extenders.  The patty is simply seasoned with salt and pepper, to bring out the undeniable  flavour of superior beef.
 Like Jay's steak,  my hambaagu is cooked medium rare -- lightly pink inside with a nice even  lightly charred exterior.  



Jay is down to his last piece of steak -- and he's eating it and not giving it to me.   
I did get a taste of the sirloin  and it was every bit as delectable as I had known it would be.  
The marbling increases the flavour aside from making the meat so mouth meltingly tender. 


I raised a toast to the Kagoshima black cow to thank him for his sacrifice of top quality 
beef  goodness.  He did not die in vain -- he fulfilled our wildest wagyu wishes.  
And of course,  here's a toast to finally finishing up this Fukuoka series.  
I hope that by reading my posts, you'll be inspired to visit one of these days.  
If you do,  head to Canal City and pay homage to wagyu at Beef Taigen. 






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Monday, March 6, 2017

Our Fukuoka Christmas 12 - Yakitori Zen ... a barbecue state of mind


Put it on a stick, place it on top of an open flame and I'm yours!
Whether it's a bright red hotdog or bits of tripe, a slice of pork belly with fat or tightly bunched together chicken entrails ...  if it's barbecued, it's food that I love.
The humblest piece of meat, with the proper seasoning or marinade is transformed once it's grilled.  
In Japan, the equivalent of barbecue is yakitori -- mostly grilled chicken but diverse enough to  include other meats, fish or even vegetables.
Yakitori is a popular offering in izakayas or bars.   My favourite yakitori joints are smoky, boozy
little places, usually nestled in narrow alleys or under the train tracks and frequented by salarymen and locals. 



On this trip to Fukuoka,  there were many restaurants around our Airbnb apartment rental, one of which was a yakitori place right in our building.   How convenient -- I could pop down and have my 
yakitori fix anytime.



A few evenings later, this is just what we did.  We traipsed down to Yakitori Zen (an apt name
for the state of mind that good food invariably reduces me to) for a few skewers and a few beers.



 Yakitori Zen was a bit bigger, neater and certainly better lit than most of the hole-in-the-wall,
along-the-riles (by the railway tracks) places that I normally go to in Tokyo.
There were a few tables for bigger groups.   We hesitated as to where we would sit but the chef waved us over to sit at the counter in front of the open kitchen. 



I was happy to see an english menu.   At Yakitori Zen, you can order a la carte or have your skewers by the set.  Tonight,  we were just "grazing" so  we ordered one serving composed of  7 skewers,  "omakase"  style (chef's recommendations).  


Izakayas normally give you small dishes of otsumami or snacks to go with your beer.  
These are placed in front of you the minute you sit down.  
If there is a "table charge" (between 300 and  500 yen)  this is what you are paying for.  For places without a "table charge"  like Yakitori Zen,  these are on the house.
Our small bowls had stewed mushrooms with bits of chicken and an appetiser of simmered vegetables with fried tofu and a few slices of hot red peppers. 


I could not wait to sip my beer -- ice cold and heavenly.  Hand torn cabbage leaves tossed with a refreshing ponzu vinaigrette  is not a salad but is meant to be eaten with the yakitori -- think of it as having slaw with your barbecue.



On the counter is a glass encased chiller with trays of the various prepared yakitori sticks -- just waiting to be seasoned and grilled.  On the first night that we visited, we ordered the set but on our next visit (yes, I went twice)  I just pointed to what I wanted to eat.


Yakitori can be seasoned two ways -- shio or just lightly salted and tare, brushed with a special sauce.  Normally the chef makes his own tare so you never quite get the same flavour from each yakitori place.  While I prefer plain shio some cuts of meat are better eaten with tare sauce.



With our counter seats, we had a ringside view of  the chef as he worked  -- here he lightly drizzles the skewers with salt (usually also mixed with a bit of ground pepper).



The sticks are placed on the grill for just a minute or two. The skewers are frequently turned so that a 
good sear can trap in the juices.  Yakitori is never dry but always moist and juicy.


Our omakase set  started with sunagimo or chicken gizzard which is one of my favourites.  
The other skewer looks like tsukune or chicken meatballs but the chef said it was made of  both ground chicken and pork. 



Our next skewer was sinful but scrumptious pork belly with negi or japanese leeks, a riff on the classic negima.  
Some poor octopus lost a few of his eight legs, giving it up for this tako yakitori -- it was soft but still firm and just so delicious.  
Check out Yakitori Zen's special chopsticks at the top of this photo. Rough hewn twigs that looked like they had  been taken straight from the tree.   



Reba or chicken liver, alternated with bits of scallions, is brushed with tare sauce and dredged through sesame seeds.  The sesame seeds and the bits of crunchy char work together to remove the mineral-ly, metallic  taste of chicken liver that I normally do not like.


We have a few more skewers -- mune or chicken breast is paired with sliced white onions. 
We also get chicken with asparagus stalks -- the chef's healthier but no less tastier version of the 
more common  aspara bacon (bacon wrapped asparagus). 
And I finally get to taste the chef's excellent tsukune or chicken meatballs glazed with tare.   
Motto biru kudasai! (one more beer please!)  
Full disclosure -- we had double orders of the tsukune right after we tasted it.  



Our chef was rather shy but not unfriendly.   I liked his twists on the normal yakitori varieties --  
his "zen" focus resulted in perfectly matched ingredients and flavours.
While there was an assistant to slice the meat and deliver the orders to the tables,  the chef himself  attended to us seated along the counter while at the same time, cooking up the orders as they came in.



At the other end of the counter, our seat mates were obviously enjoying an evening of beer-y banter and what seemed to be a steady supply of yakitori. 




Izakaya fare includes other items besides yakitori -- agedashi tofu is a popular order.  
Silky tofu is dredged through cornstarch and lightly fried till a crisp golden crust covers the creamy block of soybean softness.
Set on a light dashi and shoyu sauce,  the chef's version comes with thinly sliced nori and grated daikon topped with a smudge of pickled ginger.  
Lightly simmered shishito peppers remind me of my favourite Galician treat - pimentos de  padron -and provide just the faintest sweetish heat. 




Yakitori Zen offers sashimi but only chicken,  duck and the specialty of Kumamoto  -- basashi or sakura yukke aka horse meat sashimi.  
Before you condemn me for eating My Little Pony,  please let me tell you that horse meat is part of the culinary traditions of  the Japanese and I was in no way eating something taboo. 
I had first enjoyed sakura niku (as horse meat is called) many years ago in Tokyo and remembered how much I was surprised by the delicate taste of the meat.
Sakura yukke is often served with a mild and sweet shoyu  sauce.  A small raw quail's egg 
yolk is placed on top of the meat  -- everything blends so well together that we finish the dish in no time at all. 



We took our sweet time at Yakitori Zen, enjoying the "zen" like feeling of being completely 
at  peace.   Or was it merely a yakitori and beer induced stupor? 
If you are ever in Fukuoka,  don't miss out on ascending to this "zen" state of mind.  
Look for  Yakitori Zen along Meijimachi dori, somewhere off the Sumiyoshi-jinja.  
The door is marked by this simple piece of wood that looks somewhat like a walking stick (or the rough chopsticks you'll find inside).



N.B. Thank you to my son Gani for some of his photos used in this post. 








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