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GILOPEZ KABAYAO: THE RAMON MAGSAYSAY AWARDEE WHOSE STORY INSPIRES
ME THE MOST
A storm could have been silenced by a single note. Echoes poured like rain, drenching
me with a sense of peace. I was hearing Gilopez Kabayao, one of our greatest Filipino
violinists, giving an impromptu Bach concert in our home. His violin murmured sweet
syllables as it ascended and descended, at times seeming to roar, then dwindling to a
whisper.
Mr. Kabayao looked too young for a man of 70. His eyes sparkled; he carried his violin
with the solid stance of a master, reminding me of an old tree still unbent. His smile
radiated, yet I still could not imagine him as the young virtuoso who drew a standing
ovation in Carnegie Hall, and whose fame spread far and wide. Yet when his fingers touched
his violin, I felt that Apollo would have dropped his lyre in amazement.
At three, Gilopez Kabayao started composing short minuets. His father, also a
violinist, noting his enthusiasm, started to teach him techniques and exercises advanced
for his age. At age nine, his early debut with a local orchestra playing Mendelssohn's
Violin concerto in E minor foreshadowed what he would become. This was
confirmed when he and his sister (his accompanist) easily captured the hearts of
audiences because of their youth, talent and eagerness to play.
It is not normally his craft, not even his prodigious talent that inspires me. More
important is his crusade to spread classical music all over our country in his belief that
"exposure to fine music is essential in developing sensitivity, awareness and
compassion." His concerts have taken him from the plains of Negros, his home
province, to the highlands of the Mountain Province, and the rolling hills of Mindanao.
Never discouraged by the lack of a concert hall, he has performed in schools, on
improvised stages, in boxing rings and even in cockpits.
At one time he performed with some of his audience sitting in trees, and a branch gave
way, spilling some listeners. The rest of the audience hardly noticed, so enthralled were
they by the music. On another occasion, three small children begged to be admitted to one
of his recitals, offering fees of 50 centavos, 20 centavos and a slingshot. Kabayao
returned all three after the concert, but clearly showed that music has a value for which
a price must be paid.
I've read of crusaders before, men who fight to uphold a cause. They are described as
grim, wiry and quick of hand. Mr. Kabayao is a modern day crusader, not grim, a little
wiry, but quick of hand. His violin and bow replace sword and scabbard in the action. His
black knights and monsters are pop and rock music, now more popular than classical music
because of their easy tunes, clever words, and wild rhythm. Undaunted, Mr. Kabayao holds
concerts to spread classical music among the audiences he loves most: students, farmers,
workers, the young and old, rich and poor, enabling people to feel the beauty of classical
music and its relevance to their lives. For this he was awarded the Ramon Magsaysay Award
in 1972.
The echoes of his crusade have struck me where I stand. I now find myself playing
classical pieces on my own violin on social occasions at home and in school. Before I
played at our Freshman Acquaintance Party in July, I argued with my accompanist, who urged
me not to play classical music, because "You might be laughed at." I disagreed,
pointing out that the violin is a classical instrument, and we would dishonor the essence
of the instrument by playing pop. My decision was rewarded when other students came up to
me after the concert to ask about the music I had played.
A new understanding has blossomed in my mind: fine music is for everyone. All I have
read about Gilopez Kabayao, the famed violinist, the distinguished awardee and the
unforgettable experience of hearing him play - on records, in my town, in my home - have
made me one of the crusaders rallying under his banner. I too hope to bring fine music to
fellow students to touch lives as Gilopez Kabayao touched mine.
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