Federico Aguilar Alcuaz

Most articles on master painter Federico Aguilar Alcuaz will write about his artistic contributions to Philippine Art.  As you may have heard, "Senyor," as I always addressed him, passed away early this year, after a fatal fall in his bathroom at the Manila Pavilion Hotel.  However, today I will write about my recollections about this quirky but lovable man.  Gwammy, having worked at the Philippine Art Gallery (PAG) in the early 1950s, recalls that he was a quiet man, who would drop some of his artwork for Uncle Yats to frame.  I would usually bump into Senyor at the Cafe Coquilla, and we would often exchange pleasantries; he always had his quizzical look, but would break into a smile when you returned the same facial expression.  He used to play games with guests boarding the hotel elevator--he would ask "Going up?" while pointing downwards with his finger, to the bewilderment (and sometimes, the consternation) of the guests.  I remember having lunch at the Cafe Coquilla with the family sometime in 1997, and he would play with Monique's cousin Bryan by tossing the sugar packets around and Bryan would playfully retrieve them for him.  He would walk around the hotel lobby with the table napkins of the coffee shop wrapped around his head like a bandana.  He used Pentel pens to draw on the glass of various framed prints that adorned the hotel walls, we jokingly told the hotel staff not to erase the Pentel pen markings, as that would make the prints worth  something someday.  He graciously lent his paintings to the Rotisserie of the Manila Pavilion, and he would often use the hotel staff as the models (I particularly like his painting of Adora, once a sommelier at the Rotisserie).  He was much loved by the older hotel staff who knew him well from the Manila Hilton days, and was a bit misunderstood by the newer hotel staff who got to know him only after his fall in Luneta (that was 2006, when I think he got mugged).  After the Luneta incident, he lost part of his memory, and at times, became a bit gruff and sullen.  He no longer recognized me as he advanced in years, and I was saddened to hear of his demise.  Rest easy, Senyor--you will always be remembered.