Jojo Lofranco

Jojo Lofranco: Conversations with his abstract canvases

Text by Pam Brooke A. Casin

INSIDE THE modest workshop of abstractionist Jojo Lofranco is an unmistakable air of artistry that is neither pompous nor intimidating—and it is a good thing. This is not to say though that Lofranco’s paintings do not possess aesthetics of the highest kind or that they do not connect with the viewer in any level whatsoever. Truth of the matter is; the whole gamut of the artist’s pieces—some lined up in one part of his studio and stacked at another—spoke to us in ways we see fit. Abstract as they are, Lofranco’s paintings suggest there is neither a right nor wrong interpretation of his works—all are taken in, all are valid.

Rooted in humility and nurtured by a compelling thirst to experiment with his craft, Lofranco’s many abstract works tell the artist’s story and believe it or not, Lofranco says there are no subliminal messages infused in his oils and acrylics on canvases, even though many dilettantes and know-it-alls think there are. For the artist, abstraction meant a freer hand in expressing his thoughts and feelings of the moment and meant lesser rules in form and in color.

Lofranco started drawing back in his elementary days but his interest in it waned when he reached high school. He was more drawn to hang out with his buddies than to focus his attention to drawing. His enthusiasm for the craft wasn’t renewed and reawakened until he graduated from high school and was about to choose a college course that suited him best. Finally, he opted to try his hand at a more technical major, but one that is still closely related to the fine arts—architecture. 

He took a test at the University of Santo Tomas (UST) but wasn’t lucky. He wanted to take another examination at the Mapua of Institute of Technology but had lost hope in it also. Fortunately, his sister who was studying the Philippine Women’s University (PWU) High School at that time told Lofranco her school offers an arts program. Lofranco went on to PWU and got accepted. He took up advertising instead. 

“I didn’t know there was also a fine arts program being offered at the UST and at the University of the Philippines at that time. I was clueless and was misinformed,” Lofranco narrates. “But studying at PWU was a great experience. Ibang klase si Ibarra dela Rosa. His eccentricities perplexed us at first but they proved very helpful later on with my career.”

Being under the guidance of the late master Ibarra dela Rosa, a renowned conservative landscape artist, meant Lofranco learning the basics of realism to the t. He and his classmates would always draw flowers and leaves in Ibarra’s classes with no room to dabble in the unorthodox sensibilities of modern art. This led Lofranco painting San Francisco leaves in the first few years of his painterly career. After his stint with the leaves, Lofranco ventured into photo-realism. Here, he took pictures of arcade scenes and translated them on to canvases. 

Upon seeing Lofranco’s old works, one would be surprised as to how realistically he has rendered them. Even a trained eye would be easily fooled into thinking the artist’s works are mere blown-up images of old, fading photographs. But really, they are paintings that are drawn with a sharp eye and a calculated and excellent hand. Lofranco became known for them. And back then, all he had to do was go to a specific gallery and his works would sell just fine.

However, Lofranco wasn’t content with his stature at all. Just like any artist, he wanted to mount exhibitions; he longed to showcase more of his talent rather than think of monetary profits alone. So he took charge of his life and decided to move on with abstract art. It would seem inappropriate for Lofranco to play at abstract art as he was coming from a realist school of thought where breaking the rules of form is frowned upon but Lofranco was adamant.

“I wanted to start over kasi parang mali ata ‘yung start ko. Before it was all about money and then your career suffers. Eh gusto ko talagang mag-show so I applied to other galleries but they rejected me, some saying I should just try my hand at photography instead of painting,” Lofranco notes. “I was disheartened and I took a breather for two years. I went back to Cavite with my wife and also artist Claire. Inisip ko kung ano ‘yung nangyari sa akin all those years.”

Back in Dasmariñas, Lofranco met artist Manny Garibay who is known in the art scene for his visceral and pulsating socio-political realist works and formed a friendship with him. It was through Garibay’s encouragement that Lofranco decided to pick up the brush and palette again. But when he did, Lofranco became more interested with the creative process of abstract. Because its art-making process was more spontaneous, Lofranco fell in love with it. 

“Dito ko na nakita ‘yung ako. I loved how I can be dynamic and be flippant about colors. Naisip ko kung gaano ako nasakal sa proseso na ginagawa ko dati,” Lofranco says. “Nakakatakot lang noon when I started eh hindi time ng abstract noon, it was the time of figurative painting. The more people you have in one canvas the better.” 

Lofranco was unmindful, though. He just wanted to express himself and he wanted to go on with abstraction because that’s what he wanted. He didn’t mind if he would be compared with the minimalist paintings of Gus Albor or the zen-inspired opuses of Lao Lianben. He just painted and soon after held the first one-man exhibit he has yearned for.

Now, Lofranco is reaping the seeds he had determinedly sown. And now, his oeuvre aptly reflects his sense of self—always textured and multihued; sometimes fine or raunchy, subdued or loud; but always and predictably unpredictable.