It seems Ramon Orlina’s hands have been full lately—not just with glass, but with paving a lustrous future for Filipino visual artists.
On Independence Day, Orlina initiated a meeting in Club Filipino with artist members to revitalize the Art Association of the Philippines (AAP), which has “faced challenges under prolonged leadership.” Following a manifesto signing declaring a unified commitment to “reignite artistic exploration” and dismantle elements that have tainted the 76-year-old organization founded by Purita Kalaw-Ledesma, artists shared concerns and solutions for resuscitating AAP, which they said has fallen into stagnation and complacency.
“This is not just for me,” the 80-year-old Orlina said during an earlier interview with Lifestyle, where he also revealed plans for creating a collective management organization (CMO) that will help enforce resale rights of visual artists.
In the implementing rules and regulations (IRR) of Section 200 of the Intellectual Property Code of the Philippines, resale right is defined as the inalienable right of artists or their heirs to receive royalty from the resale of their work as well as to participate or share in the proceeds of the subsequent sale or lease of their work.
Also known as droit de suite, this little-known section of the law was not being implemented until the contemporary glass artist demanded payment from a gallery for some of his recently auctioned-off works, which he had registered as his intellectual property.
Musicians are paid royalty whenever their original works are used, but for visual artists, sales are usually a one-and-done thing. That should not have been the case for years now, given that the memorandum circular covering the IRR of resale rights was actually issued back in 2020.
But artists themselves are unaware, which makes the creation of the CMO even more important and urgent.
Resale rights
According to the Intellectual Property Office of the Philippines Memorandum Circular No. 2020-023, the rules of resale rights cover not only citizens of the Philippines but also those of other Berne Convention member states with resale rights provisions in their national copyright laws. The resale right is valid throughout the author’s lifetime and for 50 years following his death. Upon the author’s death—or in cases of collaborations, upon the death of the last surviving author—the right is then transferred to the heirs.
These rules apply to any sale or lease of original works of paintings, sculpture or manuscript following the initial transfer of ownership—including of those created even before the rules took effect—barring prints, etchings, engravings, works of applied art and others that lets the author earn from reproductions.
But the rules do not cover private transactions, or those done without the involvement of an art market professional. This goes the same for leases, which should exceed one year and be covered by a written contract. The work must also be registered in the National Registry of Qualified Works.
The CMO will work similarly to the Filipino Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers, aiding in protecting visual artists’ rights and ensuring that auction houses and galleries pay them correctly. It will also help its members with registering the artworks to ensure they are able to claim their earnings from resales.
“Right now, there are artists—national artists—who still have no money,” said Orlina. With the enforcement of resale rights, artists can still earn from past works even if they become unable to make more art for any reason. And upon their passing, their heirs can also benefit from them.
Orlina’s son Michael, himself a budding glass sculptor, also noted how old works tend to fetch higher prices later on. But after the first disposition, the only thing artists gain from these escalating value is prestige and the ability to place a higher price tag on their future works—which may then be sold for even higher during resale.
Now, Orlina said he doesn’t even have to ask for his resale earnings; the galleries just deposit them directly to his bank.
10th anniversary
“What the CMO wants is for this to become standard practice, that it is no longer something that has to be fought for,” Michael said.
In “Eskultura III: Crystal Clear” during Museo Orlina’s 10th anniversary, father and son joined other members of the very small glass art community, including Orlina’s daughter Anna, Marge Organo and daughter Raisa Luz and Jinggoy Salcedo.
Their luminous works glistened in the light, displaying varied techniques that seem almost impossible.
Organo’s rib series is a bit of a deviation from her past works, and she said she has to keep exploring new techniques because she gets bored doing the same thing over and over again. What makes creating her new pieces extra challenging was how she had to cut the glass first before putting them together in different directions. This process created bubbles that became small mirrors inside the glass.
But looking at Luz’s works, Organo—who was moved to learn glassmaking when she couldn’t afford an Orlina—said that she couldn’t do what her daughter does.
Luz’s works use the kilnforming technique, wherein pieces of glass are fused together with heat using a kiln, to create dynamic shapes in vivid hues.
“My works are glass on glass. What I use to color is the glass itself,” Luz said, adding that kiln-formed glass takes a while to make, going from a week to a month just to melt it. But hard as it is to work with, she finds beauty in the depth of the glass inside the glass.
Salcedo’s pieces are made of individually molded glass leaves that he fuses with stainless steel. He uses the glassblowing technique that he learned from his parents’ 48-year-old glassmaking company, Angeli Glass Product Specialties.
“I’m proud to be among them,” Salcedo said, adding that he felt heartened to be included in the roster.
Like father, like children
Two Orlina siblings are also following steadfastly in their father’s footsteps, employing the same techniques envisioned differently.
But let it not be said that Anna got into glass art blindly or out of expectations. For her, glass seemed an ordinary thing, with sought-after masterpieces by her famous dad—the “Father of Philippine Glass Sculpture” who elevated the decorative art of glass into fine art—a common sight growing up. But while she chose to explore other facets of art before deciding on a career, she eventually fell in love with the medium when she got exposed to works and techniques of other people abroad.
Anna’s works are more on the whimsical side, with one even depicting SpongeBob Squarepants’ pineapple house. She describes her style as “kind of childlike with simpler shapes. It’s like playing around with Lego, piecing things together with different colors.”
She continued, “It’s a blessing that my dad’s already doing this. Not a lot of people get to do glass art, so the fact he’s willing to support me with my studies is really good.”
Michael also feels “unbelievably blessed” to have his father’s guidance and expertise, as well as the help of his staff. “The pressure is honestly there, but it’s the good type. I’m not stressed, I’m not scared. I’m happy.”
Working with themes surrounding pop culture, nature and illusions, Michael uses a lot of texture that can be seen through the glass. Like his father, he carves his creations out of single pieces of glass, which makes it more challenging since that gives little room for mistakes: “There’s no turning back!”
But that subtractive element actually draws him in because it makes him think. In the future, he also plans on experimenting with electronics.
While Orlina taught his son design (how to look at glass and how to think), Michael said his father’s assistants were the ones who helped him in sculpting.
“I have around 19 assistants who know my process. That knowledge can’t disappear,” Orlina said. Which is why he has dreams of creating a school to teach glass art in the country.
Teaching glass art
While it may seem that being a glass artist must run in the family—Orlina’s great-grandfather Antonio Medina (known in his hometown as Antonio Pintor for his artistic talents) turned out to have worked with glass as well, and Salcedo is also a product of his parents’ glassmaking business—they hope to welcome more into their fold.
But those plans can’t quite happen yet. For one thing, Orlina doesn’t know where to put the school, as his workshops are already full of his family’s works. He’s considering the extension being constructed beside Museo Orlina in Tagaytay, but plans aren’t concrete yet.
Getting into glass sculpting admittedly poses many challenges.
“The barrier of entry in sculpture in general is very hard, but especially glass. You need a studio, you need equipment,” said Michael, adding that a lot of the materials and equipment they need have to be sourced from abroad. “So even if you’re able to teach, opening up a studio is going to be hard.”
One possibility is having open studios, Anna said. These are like “coworking workshops” where artists pay for studio time and use of equipment. But then, there’s a safety issue as well. Salcedo said that some galleries also have plans of putting together an on-the-spot workshop to show how different artists work, but these plans from roughly eight years ago have yet to push through.
As for Organo and Luz, they have their own plans of building a school in their farm in Jalajala, Rizal. “We want to teach glass casting. But when we were looking at the expenses and everything, it could get really steep,” Luz said, explaining that aside from equipment, bringing in experts to teach also adds to the cost. “But someday.” INQ