‘A kind of legacy thing’: Jefre’s art and the power of public spaces
In a video clip, Jefre can be seen walking down the American Heart Association (AHA) red carpet with the likes of Sharon Stone. In the next moment, he’s wearing a hospital gown being wheeled in for a medical procedure.
It was early February in New York, two weeks before he came to the Philippines for this year’s Art Fair Philippines. His doctors found two out of three of his bypasses were no longer working, and his body had just been compensating for it.
“They drew my heart, and those yellow pieces are where my vessels aren’t working anymore. They took a video of me, you can see my stents. You can see them going inside of me,” he said. “My next work will be based on the history of my heart.”
The United States-born Filipino American only started doing art after his triple bypass surgery at age 35 following a heart attack. He has since become an advocate for the AHA and became a prolific visual artist whose works have reshaped landscapes all over the world with his large-scale public art.
The Metro Manila skyline itself has been changing for the past few years, thanks to his towering chrome-toned men slowly populating our urban areas: A 12-meter man with a cube for a head checks the time at SM Megamall in Mandaluyong; two headphone-wearing figures playfully hang around the Double Dragon building in Pasay; and, the tallest yet, a 55-meter featureless human raises a fist triumphantly at the sky in Bridgetowne in Pasig.
Two more “cubeheads” and a dog can be found at the Philippine Airlines’ Mabuhay Lounge at Naia Terminal 1, and smaller figures tangled up in film were awarded to winners of last year’s Metro Manila Film Fest as trophies.
Overexposure?
Born Jefre Figueras Manuel, Jefre creates public art that makes people stop and take notice.
“People always ask me why I do these large pieces. It’s kind of like a legacy thing. Hey, if I only have one life, what have I left here?”
With numerous works so prominently displayed, does he worry about overexposure?
“How do you get overexposed? It’s hard to know where that line is,” he told Lifestyle, saying he wants to be able to share his art. But that doesn’t mean that he’ll just say yes to every project.
“Living in a rural area, being close to Disneyland, I get so many opportunities from Disney and Universal to have me do something. And if I did a two-story banana at Disney, it’s a two-story banana. But if I did it in the middle of Central Park, I’d be in every single newspaper. It’s just the context. It’s just perception.
“It’s up to the outside world whether they think I’m overexposed or not,” Jefre added, calling himself fortunate to have such a problem when getting exposure in the first place is probably the bigger challenge.
He narrated how he has had to say no to people with deep pockets who think his art “would look good in their kid’s bedroom.”
“If you’re not a collector, then I don’t need it. You can have other things,” he said.
“I’m doing these really high-end, expensive pieces, but then I’m working on a collaboration with Bench to do smaller things for like P200, P300, right? That allows for the idea that even though you see this giant 28-story-tall sculpture, you’re still also be able to have a piece of it.”
Generous
The fedora-wearing artist has been generous with his works with the Filipino people. “Everything I’ve been doing here has been a gift,” he said, explaining that he only gets a small percentage for the public installations he has done in the country.
“If I said how much it’s going to cost to make these, they’d be ready to say no, so I was like, okay, I’m going to just give this gift so then you can see the value of what these things can change, how they can change the skyline of the city. And then maybe I’ll get paid back again. So that’s why my next market is Dubai!” he said, laughing.
“For me, it’s really like an opportunity to give back. Being born and raised in the US, I’ve been fortunate to have parents who were able to provide education, experience, and exposure to the arts. And for me, it was nice to do these exhibits and installations all over the US. And then when I got the opportunity to come back here for the first time, I wanted to figure out why don’t I see a lot of Filipinos in the US that are doing what I’m doing over here. So is there a way for me to become a conduit or connector to bring Filipino artists here back into the US or abroad?”
His work titled “Talking Heads” can still be seen at the upper ground level of the Ayala Malls Circuit. The rows of suspended gigantic transparent plastic heads with brightly colored neon lights spelling out words of affirmation in different languages: “Dreamer,” “Mabait” (kind), “L’amour” (love), “Passione” (passion), “Unica” (unique), “Dokuritsushita” (independent), to name a few.
“It really talks about this idea of how you deal with isolation,” he said of the insightful installation.
Mall art
Jefre and Olivia d’Aboville exhibited their works in the mall as part of the “10 Days of Art’s” Art Walk in February, but their works remain on view until this month. Their joint participation in the art event felt like a “360 moment” for the former, saying D’Aboville became one of his first friends in Manila when he asked her a little over a decade ago for advice on how to become an artist in the country.
D’Aboville’s “Wonderland of Lights,” spread across Circuit Lane on the mall’s ground floor, is a satellite exhibit under ArtHouse’s “Lakbay: Voyages into the Absolute with Nena Saguil,” which features artworks by migrant artists inspired by the renowned Filipino abstractionist.
“I knew of [Saguil’s] pointilism and dots, but I didn’t know that she fled the Philippines and moved to Paris,” said the French Filipino fabric artist. “It’s pretty amazing having started her career there as an artist.”
D’Aboville used the remainder of her lone public art, “Giant Dandelions” — 50 down from the original 90 — to create “Wonderland of Lights,” which, if seen from above, recalls the circles and curves of Saguil’s works.
She used over 13,000 plastic bottles to create the whimsical installation. Already charming in daylight, it’s another kind of magic come nighttime when the lights come on.
She said she started using plastics back when she was living in Paris and the cost of living was so expensive. “I didn’t want to spend so much in yarns and things like that, and I wanted also to stand out and so I would recycle and use nylon.”
Through her use of plastic, she also wished to translate the message of being mindful of what we consume. “Our society is so driven to consumerism and ultimately we’re dying from it. I mean, we have plastic in our blood already. So, art can really make you think and start conversations.”
Public art
D’Aboville also cherishes stories people create with her public art. An older gentleman once sent her a photo of him and his wife in front of her giant dandelions that were being exhibited in Europe at the time. “This is my wife’s favorite flower, the dandelion,” he had written to her. They even asked to buy one.
“Public art should affect people,” agreed Jefre, who has had a few proposals happen in front of his works as well. But one memorable experience he’s had happened with his “Talking Heads” piece.
An exhibit in a museum in the US featured the sound of a heartbeat as part of the show. “Someone sent me a DM saying, ‘I am here in the room in the corner, listening to your heartbeat thinking about ending mine.’”
Jefre called the museum looking for the girl and to tell them what was happening. They told her a girl who was there had already gone. Thankfully, the girl later messaged him back, and said: “Your story and your message were inspirational to me. That helped me move on from the thoughts I was having that day.”
“The idea that sometimes we’re more than just creating something for us, but for other people, and that’s what public art should be,” said Jefre. “It should be there to inspire people.”
