No one cries for ALbert

He died in his sleep. Which is probably the way he would have preferred it. Albert Avellana — gallerist, art purveyor, keeper of the creative community, bon vivant, friend, and so much more — wasn't the type to be fussed over. He preferred to work quietly and thoroughly, whether curating an art show, setting up an artisan's market or a creative industry fair, or making magic out of recycled materials for a hotel's holiday lobby.

It was at the end of each passionate work (mediocrity annoyed him) when Albert, the life of the party, would come out. Always, it was at the end of each hard and loving work, when the drinks flowed and socials commenced.

To him, work was a celebration, his work in art, especially, a cause for joy. Albert was always like that. He always had a strong sense of community and kept artist friends, peers, and other like-minded creative people together. And yes, there was always good food to seal the moments.

And even in the darkest of times — the pandemic that shook the world, the bombastic turn of events in the country — he was relentless in keeping creativity and inspiration alive among the artists he knew and worked with. Art was never about repression, he would say. Just keep at it.

Albert in three acts

In my life, Albert came in three acts. First, in my 20s, when I was a struggling photographer, he gave me my first jobs. One was to document the thesis works of a graduating interior design class, and another to document art works. I had little experience, but Albert made me feel he believed in me. The spark of confidence he gave me set off my budding career in shooting images.

Act two happened years later, in and out of a string of many art events. This time, being with Albert meant spending lots of enjoyable time talking about art, artists, the scene, and juicy gossip in between. Of course, there were some acid remarks from him as well, especially about those in the community with questionable practices.

Act three took place a few years ago, after I took a gap year and lived in the forest trying to reimagine what's next after decades of doing the daily corporate and editorial grind. I was burned out and depressed but was ready to engage in the chaotic jungle again — perhaps doing art even. So, I trooped to his gallery for the big talk. The one talk I needed. And that would always be with Albert
— the listening friend who gave practical advice and told you how it really was. And as always, for Albert, no matter how seemingly insane an idea was — he committed himself to hearing you out.

That was Albert. He always cared. About his work, his friends, his art.

I learned about his passing just recently.

On his Facebook page, his last post that was about five ways to make your child love learning, Willy De Perio posted a comment — a tribute written by friend and fashion designer Jojie Lloren:
"Alberto Juan E. Avellana (1963-2022) has joined our creator on 16 September 2022. His remains will be on view at Chapel 1, Heritage Park, Taguig starting tonight at 6 p.m. until Wednesday."

Albert, or "Betong" to his family, founded the Avellana Art Gallery and was former president of the Museum Foundation of the Philippines. As a gallerist, he helped young visual artists begin their careers in the arts and provided constant support to contemporary artists. He also helped promote Philippine art and culture by helping organize fairs through the MFPI and with other government agencies.

His passion and love for Philippine art will be sorely missed. Let us pray for the repose of his soul.

Celebrating a life

My heart is bleeding. But there's no time to grieve, to wallow in sadness. Life is too short, as we have learned from Albert. I will try hard not to cry, but, he will remain in my memory and in my heart forever.

In life and in death, which are all but part of a natural process, he showed the way to a joyful existence no matter what pain is often endured in creating, in making art, in doing the things one dearly loves.
Farewell, Albert. Cheers!