Jonathan Abellana is, by all standards, a young artist.
I did not realize this when my husband first showed me some of his work. I thought I was looking at pieces done by an expert hand — advanced in years and rich in life experience.
Looking back, even in primary school and through high school, he was the boy teachers relied on to paint murals, design stage backdrops and carve decorative letters. He was the classmate who would cheerfully help you finish projects, especially if they involved drawing.
His parents neither encouraged nor discouraged him. They likely believed there was little money in art, but they saw their son was happy with what he was doing — so they let him be.
As a teenager, he found work on a cattle farm in Manila, where he stayed for six years. He did everything expected of a cattle driver, but eventually found time to return to charcoal drawing — which proved more lucrative than farming.
He later returned to Cebu to complete high school and enrolled in a Graphics and Media course at CIT. By his second year, however, he felt it was not the right fit. Around that time, he met a group of artists who practiced portraiture using live models. He joined them in indoor sessions and plein air outings, eventually becoming a member of Cebu Artists Incorporated (CAI).
When asked about an unforgettable experience as an exhibiting artist, he answers without hesitation.
During an exhibit at Chong Hua Hospital, a wheelchair-bound man who could barely speak wanted to purchase one of his paintings. The man’s companion told Jonathan that the prospective buyer had survived two near-death experiences and would spend the rest of his life in that condition.
Jonathan could not understand why someone burdened with mounting hospital bills would choose to spend money on art. That his work could move someone so deeply was something he had not yet fully grasped. The experience opened his eyes to the quiet power and possibilities of his craft.
Not many know that Jonathan is also a sculptor. As a child, he was fascinated by the statues he saw in churches, and somehow, the skill came naturally to him. Despite sculpture being labor-intensive, he says he simply decided one day to try — and was surprised to find he instinctively knew what to do.
I jokingly suggest he may have been a sculptor in a previous life.
He smiles when he admits he carries a constant inner urge to create. He finds relaxation in finishing a piece. It is, as he describes it, a kind of addiction — not unlike the euphoria others chase elsewhere. For him, the high comes from immersion in the act of creation.
The so-called “starving artist” phase is real. Here is a man who cannot imagine himself doing anything else.
At 37, Jonathan still has time to evolve, to experiment, to find new modes of expression. Yet it seems unlikely he will stray from this path. There is unmistakable joy in his eyes when he speaks of his process — the kind that makes you want to cheer him on.
He names his influences: Galicano for craftsmanship and discipline; Pepito for forging a distinct signature style; Ypon for bringing Filipino art to the international stage. Many others, he says, have shaped him over the years.
When asked whether he is related to the revered Martino “Tinong” Abellana, he admits he is unsure. What he does know is that creativity runs in the family. One brother is a tattoo artist based in the United Kingdom; another is a graphic artist.
At 37, Jonathan Abellana knows what he will be doing for the rest of his life.
His name, rooted in Hebrew, means “God’s gift.” In sharing his art with the world, perhaps that is exactly what he offers — a gift that keeps on giving.