A loving and joyful sendoff for Pablo Tariman

Photos by Bullit Marquez. Videos by Liana Garcellano

Bidding farewell to someone who wrapped your heart in warmth is difficult, but it had to be done. On Oct. 14, his family, friends, and admirers gathered at UP Diliman’s College of Fine Arts and Design Building for “In the Key of Memory: A Thanksgiving for the Life of Pablo Tariman” to see him off on his music-filled journey across the rainbow.

The sendoff program of more than two hours was organized by his close friend, the writer Babeth Lolarga; his daughter Karenina, who had returned to Germany two days before his passing and was “supervising all the way from Frankfurt,” according to Lolarga; his fellow impresario Joseph Uy; sculptor Julie Lluch; and UP Diliman professor Sarah Raymundo. Lolarga selected the songs — “It’s the pakialamera (nosey) in me,” she quipped.

Pablo was impresario, journalist, music critic and, later, poet to the world. He was Papu to family, Tito Pablo to friends and relations, and Aboy to actor-director Bibeth Ortega. He passed away on Oct. 9, leaving everyone bereft of a classical music lover who had opera singers sing to ordinary folks, who in turn learned to appreciate opera.

Aptly, the sendoff was a night of music with artists he had closely watched perfect their craft and friends with whom he had shared stories, laughter, and beer. It became a night of nostalgia, a reunion of his friends.

Benediction

The “running priest” Robert Reyes officiated at the Mass and, in the homily, described Pablo’s soul as “pleasing to the Lord.”

Father Robert said he and Pablo met through their common friend Alma Miclat, president of the Maningning Miclat Art Foundation Inc. Alma had called him, asking if he could bless Pablo, then in hospital and wishing to receive benediction; he was then in Baguio City attending a lecture.

“I didn’t know the man personally, but I know some of you, so I believe I know him,” Father Robert told the congregation. “I blessed a dying man with a soul.”

In his remarks during the program, the sociologist and UP Diliman professor Randy David said Pablo was a sensitive artist who sought to interpret the artists, never judging, only listening.  He said Pablo connected with him, “an academic with little time and spare income to attend concerts but with enough sensibility to enjoy sublime moments like a [Cecile] Licad concert,” by reserving complimentary tickets for him and others.

“It was his quiet way of reaching out and keeping in touch, [saying] ‘Come and enjoy.’ He waited for us at the entrance and asked if we’d printed the QR code,” David said, adding that they would gather around Pablo to say “thank you” before and after the concert, and Pablo would beam with quiet satisfaction, never expecting anything in return.

In gratitude, David said, he read everything Pablo wrote, concluding that “Pablo may not have known it but he was an artist writing with enviable lucidity, wit, grace, and empathy.”

The stage actor Joel Saracho, the night’s emcee, agreed with David’s observation, saying that Pablo’s writings were heartfelt. He said he first met Pablo and heard the man’s signature laughter when he was Teatro Pilipino stage manager.

Lolarga read the remarks of TheDiarist editor Thelma Sioson San Juan, who called Pablo a colleague she was close with, and remembered that when she was a rookie Times Journal editor, she went with him to interview Cecile Licad at her residence in Quezon City. They reconnected again in TheDiarist when it was starting out. “He wasn’t in it for the money or the perks. It was truly a blessing to have met a true journalist,” San Juan said.

Remembrances

 Orteza praised Pablo for his unwavering promotion of classical music. She said she loved how he turned dreams into reality, and even arranged for Licad to meet her idols Nora Aunor and Tirso Cruz III because the pianist wanted to.

“Pablo got Cecile, Nora, Tirso, Susan Roces, and Boots Anson-Roa together because they respected him,” Orteza said, and proceeded to regale everyone about his funny side. She said he would assign code names to people he didn’t like when writing on Messenger. And when she told him she couldn’t understand what he had written, he cheekily remarked, “It’s for me to chika and for you to find out.”

Orteza said she loved how Pablo didn’t stop his children from becoming what they wanted to be, and supported them. The love continues despite his absence, she said, adding that she promised him that his grandson Emmanuel won’t be without guidance and help with his Tita Bibeth around, and that his Christmas gift will definitely come together with the tuyo (salted fish), like always.

Lolarga also read the messages of journalist Jullie Yap Daza, who said she would truly miss Pablo and that things wouldn’t be the same without him, and of lifestyle columnist Chit Roces-Santos.

In her remarks, Roces-Santos lamented that the laughter has lessened in the world with Pablo gone. She said she and her husband Vergel were fond of Pablo who, she noted, may have been the “poorest” friend they had and yet was so generous. She said he was “a man with intellectual class although short in social graces — his guffaw alone was enough to shatter etiquette to smithereens.” And yet, she said, he had “the sensitivity to appreciate music a few could,” and wrote critical reviews reflecting “a depth of understanding and true appreciation of classical music.”

‘Life is beautiful’

As her own tribute, Lolarga read her poem “Pablo Tariman spotted at Gourmet Gypsy Café,” the backstory of which further revealed insights into her friend’s nature. She said Gourmet Gypsy Café on Maginhawa Street in UP Village was where she and Pablo set up the “Intimate Concert Series” that featured a piano recital by Oliver Salonga and a concert (its last) with baritone Andrew Fernando, flutist Christopher Iracion, and pianist Mary Ann Espina.

Lolarga said the indefatigable Pablo moved the concert series to UP Diliman’s  Balay Kalinaw. Its final concert was a fundraiser for the then ailing poet Jolicco de Cuadra, which had a standing-room-only audience. After the funds were given to the poet and partner, Pablo’s share of the money left was only enough to cover his round trip cab fare, she said. And what he told her left her marveling at his indomitable spirit: “Life is beautiful, Babeth.” She said it became their mantra, to help them go on with their life as cultural volunteers.

After reading the poem’s last line —“For you, dear friend, this time around the music will never stop” — Lolarga raised a can of beer and said, “Cheers, cheers, cheers, Pablo, on your journey to the stars!”

Video messages allowed more of Pablo’s friends to express their feelings.

The tenor Arthur Espiritu thanked Pablo for what he’d done for him as an artist and for getting people to know him. “It’s not goodbye but see you later,” he said.

Pablo’s close friend, the soprano Nelly Miricioiu, said she was grateful for his existence in her life, their conversations on politics and history, and his devotion to artists. “Pablo was an amazing man. I wish him a light journey,” she said.

Licad played a passage from “Moonlight Sonata.”

Songs for Pablo

The first performance was by soprano Stefanie Quintin Avila, who said she was thankful to Pablo for bringing classical music to the people because if he hadn’t, she and the others would only be singing to their families. With Najib Ismail on piano, Avila, heavy with child, sang “Kundiman ng Langit” with mellifluous ease.

Soprano Myramae Meneses delivered a powerful performance of “Mutya ng Pasig,” with the high notes — full and clear — echoing in the hall. She said she met Pablo when she was 18 and that she would always feel nervous when she learned he was in the audience. “I wondered what he would write about our performance. But it pushed us to do better because his standards were high,” she said.

Soprano-voice teacher Camille Lopez Molina said Pablo was always there for them when they were finding their voices, uncertain, unpolished and unseen. She recalled  how “he listened …too closely [and] heard the nerves and the miscalculated note,” but expressed her astonishment at how he didn’t aim to please, only underscoring his care for the artists and the craft, and his “absurd” courage to keep the music going in a country that never listens. She sang “When I have sung my songs for you” with heart, accompanied by Ismail on piano.

With Molina on piano, bass-baritone Roby Malubay sang “The Nearness of You” and “Laging kitang Naaalala” for Pablo, his rich low tones pulling at the heartstrings. He said he had one regret: Pablo never got to watch him in a solo concert.

Fruitful life

A card with Pablo’s picture and an excerpt from his poem “Elegie” was handed by his widow, the poet Merlita Lorena-Tariman, to each guest: “I like the peace that comes with the prospect of dying./ But when you die young you pause and think of the possibilities of a more fruitful life ahead./ Then and now, you learn to appreciate the long and short of a borrowed life.”

It was good to listen to stories about Pablo from people who appreciated and loved him.

I have many memories of him, too, when he used to crash at my parents’ apartment when my sister and I were young: his funny Muttley-like laughter, his big hair, his black-rimmed glasses, the time he desperately tried to get a signal on the radio at our place to listen to someone sing opera, the times he took us to CCP to watch the ballet.

Many years later, when I came home for good after being away too long, we saw each other at Vera Files’ Christmas parties and at occasional press conferences. Always, the same warm man, but frailer now.

No goodbyes, Tito Pablo. Your memory lives.

A few last things about Pablo Tariman

By Elizabeth Lolarga

At last Tuesday’s (Oct. 14) wake-necrological service for journalist-poet-concert organizer Pablo A. Tariman,  a number of eulogists spoke of his generosity not only in handing out complimentary tickets to Cecile Licad and other concerts but in being a real friend.

I would like to state on the record that I was also on the receiving end of this man’s philanthropic generosity. He carried himself with dignity despite living close to “abject poverty,” as a friend told me.

More than ten years ago, this freelancer wasn’t paid by a client an amount that could’ve gone to my coming first grandchild’s savings kitty. I was tearful and angry, and I unburdened myself to Pablo who was more than familiar with the uncertainties of a freelance writer’s, occasional hack’s, life.

Immediately, he told me over the phone: “Babeth, help me sell tickets to my concert. I won’t give you a commission. Whatever you sell, sa iyo na ang proceeds para sa magiging apo mo (the proceeds will go to your forthcoming grandchild).”

I was touched to the quick by this man who could barely make monthly rent. I tried to pay him back for   the gesture forward. I even gave him sheaves of bond paper to have his concert programs printed and photocopied.

He gave my sisters Evelyn Trinidad, Ellen Lolarga and Pinky Lolarga Susi access to, among others, the vocal concerts of Arthur Espiritu. I told my sisters to give either a voluntary monetary donation or gifts in kind. So to him went boxes of suman, pastillas or other kakanin which he enjoyed despite his diabetes. We’d send him a bottle of ube jam from Baguio or an apple pie made by Noona’s Kitchen (fellow Paulinian Sonia Ramos Araneta’s small home business). Each time Pablo said “thank you” and never exhibited a sense of entitlement to these treats.

So when I told my sisters that he was gone, they were dismayed and grieved along with me. Evelyn taught me the prayers for the dead apart from shedding tears for Pablo and his surviving but orphaned grandson Emmanuel Acosta.

The mourning isn’t over. But I remember how Pablo threw himself into writing furiously when, in quick succession, his daughter Kerima, then her husband Ericson Acosta, were killed by state forces.

Meanwhile, in behalf of the organizers of last Tuesday’s program (Kalon Tariman,  who ran our group chat from Frankfurt, Germany,  Emmanuel, Prof. Sarah Raymuno, sculptor Julie Lluch and impresario Joseph Uy), I thank Alma Cruz Miclat for making the arrangement that Fr. Robert Reyes officiate the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, Viva Voce Voice Lab choral ensemble under Camille Lopez Molina, pianists Oliver Salonga and Najib Mabaning Ismail, soloists Stefanie Quintin-Avila, Myramae T. Meneses, Roby Malubay and Camille.

Thanks very especially to Joel Saracho for being a Joel Grey kind of emcee, keeping the energy up and making witty asides at Pablo’s expense, eulogy speakers Prof. Randy David, journalists Thelma Sioson San Juan, Julie Yap Daza and Chit Santos who sent their words, Alma, scriptwriter Bibeth Orteza and Pablo’s widow Merlita Lorena Tariman.

Our gratitude to those remarkable talents who sent their messages of sympathy via video: tenor Arthur Espiritu, soprano Nelly Miricioiu , pianist Cecile Licad and actor Shamaine Centenera Buencamino who read Kerima’s and Pablo’s poems.

Joel led the prolonged standing ovation for Pablo. He deserved nothing less.