Introduction Judith Arellano Torres
Images Neal Oshima
It is the easiest thing to fall headlong in love with his graceful and sinuous sculptural furniture pieces. The impeccable lines and satin sleekness still astonish friends and clients when they pause to regard his work, even though they may have acquired the piece, ten, fifteen, or twenty years ago. It is just as easy to lose your heart to the maker of these masterpieces, with his penchant for puns, generosity with his time, and love for plying friends with good food, among many commendable traits and habits.
Lanelle Abueva Fernando, a friend of fifty years and former neighbor in Beverly Hills Subdivision in Antipolo City, says in their college days, Benji Reyes would drive her and friends around Antipolo in search of the best fried itik (duck), or whatever snack someone had a hankering for. Later, when she was widowed, Reyes would check in on the Fernando family, bringing food and goodies for the children, and driving her to the hospital when one of the kids got sick.
“I have three very early works of his,” Fernando says. “One is a Careng rocking chair, which looks so different from his work today. How it has evolved!” she exclaims. “You know, Benji is funny and cheerful, but as a young man, he could be very quiet. And when he worked, he was serious, dedicated, and persevering. His work was his lifestyle, his life. He was never the type who said, ‘This is my masterpiece,’ and then make a hundred copies of it. He doesn’t think that way. He was always working and working, creating and creating, coming up with new stuff.”
The work is the man, his friends say. Persevering and imaginative, says Fernando. Passionate and incredibly generous, say others. The man is unsullied, says a best friend. Enjoy the photos and the stories that follow. You know the saying, “Form ever follows function.” In Reyes’ case, he is the exemplar of “Form follows values.” The work is the man, and the work expresses soul.
Cedie Vargas, executive director, Lopez Museum and Library
Have you been to his house? You cannot just go there once! When you walk in, you feel Benji. To describe the feeling in words—I’m not sure I can. A few minutes after meeting him, you feel the soul of a passionate craftsman, an artist. He doesn’t take shortcuts. He must have the right wood before he works on your piece. If it takes two years, you wait. It will come in its own time. Watch him move around his house. When he’s touching wood, you feel the deep reverence he has for it and what the material can reveal to him. And when he comes and delivers your items, he explains what went into them—where the wood came from, why he chose it, what he saw in the grain, the burls and imperfections, how the piece came together, and how to care for it. He draws you into his craft, his passion, and into himself. He shares himself with each piece he creates.
Benji had one of his earliest exhibits at the Lopez Museum in 1997. What made that exhibit memorable was my dad stopped by the museum, looked at the work, and said he wanted to have a few of Benji’s works. The first piece that came home to us, to my dad (Oscar Lopez), Benji delivered. It was a low coffee table with undulating waves on two sides. I don’t think he does that table anymore because it’s a lot of work!
When I was remodeling my house, I decided I, too, wanted a few of Benji’s pieces. I started with a living room settee, a divan, two Silya ni Careng armchairs, dining chairs, and kitchen stools. Which do I love most? All! I love them all. You cannot look at any one piece and not be captivated by it, stare at it, and wonder about the person who made it because it is just so beautifully crafted. Our pieces have been with me for ten, maybe fifteen years. They’ve not needed maintenance.
You appreciate Benji’s work more when you sit on them. The human body’s anatomy has been taken into account—how the wood conforms to the body and how it reacts to the wood. A table you can rest your elbows on, but a chair, you have to engage with it. You lounge in it, recline on it, you can sit on a Benji chair for hours. How does he make these pieces of wood move with the body? And the wood glows! It’s not a shine—it’s a glow. And all this reflects back on the craftsman and the soul and passion Benji lavishes on each piece. These pieces are meant to be reflected on, to be appreciated, to be loved for generations.
Ruben del Rosario
I met Benji summer of 1980 in Beverly Hills Subdivision when my family and I moved into our new home. Benji was teaching young kids how to swim, and I enrolled my daughters. That was the beginning of a friendship that simply grew and grew, and grew over time.
Benji was a fitness buff and a sportsman. We jogged, played tennis, basketball, billiards, bowling, lifted weights, climbed Mt. Pulag, motorcycled, and biked here and abroad. He was also a square. He didn’t smoke, get drunk, do drugs, dance, sing, play poker or chess. He used discretion in making friends.
I admire him most for being a family man. An out-and-out dad to his children and now grandchildren. To his wife? Not a coward but a free-will faithful husband. I see it in his creations. In his 2002 Gallery 139 exhibit, his centerpiece was a wood carving of himself, his beloved wife Carina, and dearest daughters Eena and Keesha. Together. In a hug. Family comes first with Benji. Always.
As an artist, I value him most for his foresight and imagination. I can say that no one, no one, could have envisioned his Tahanan (home) the way he did. You have to see it to believe it. The conceptualization was all his—nobody else’s—from the lowest ground level to the roof and everything in between. Include the perimeter. I kept some of his initial sketches.
He was not only at the site. He was on top. Of everything. Standing precariously on the scaffoldings with his workers. Gave up golf entirely. Focused for four long years on Tahanan’s completion. The result? “An amazing house built on a dream with expert hands and a heart in the right place.” I would have said that, but someone beat me to it.
As a friend, the number of years we have been friends, no breaks, speak eloquently of what we are, how we are to each other. To this day, for 41 years, not a single instance of misunderstanding, not a moment of doubt. It is a relationship blessed from Day One. More than friends, we are brothers.
What Benji pieces do I have? I have enough to open my own exhibit of his pieces and asesoryas. With half being prototypes bearing serial number 001—two, he named after me: Silya ni Benru (Benru’s Chair) and Bangko ni Benru (Benru’s Bench).
How do I feel when I sit on them? Proud. Proud that I was the one chosen, among many, to own his works having a value beyond any price. Still, that is second only to feeling proud of the man. My friend. My bro. I am witness to how he persevered when he was in his deepest abyss. I am witness to how he lifted himself up to the surface unsullied. Throughout his long passage from hardship to comfort, Benji kept his integrity intact, his faith in the carpenter Jesus unwavering.
Benji’s family left for the US, leaving him behind to fend for himself. His father was not happy with him for not pursuing his studies in Architecture. At an early age, he had to learn how to fight and survive with his own grit. He won. In grand fashion.
Gina Consunji, friend for 48 years
His family has been friends of my family since we were very young. I particularly enjoy his very Pinoy sense of humor, which he injects in his art by the way he names his pieces, like Kahabinet (cabinet), Ahh-Parador (closet), Dibay-dibay (divider).
I think Benji is a nationalist in that he uses Philippine indigenous wood. A conservationist in that he uses only recycled wood. And that Benji is proud of his Philippine heritage as he names his pieces all in Filipino. He impresses me as a proud father and family man, as his early pieces are named after his family members, as in his wife, Careng, of course, daughters Eena and Keesha, and his mother, father, and siblings.
Our favorite piece is his rocking chair, Tumba-Tumba (literally, Fall Fall), which my husband uses every day, and our dining table, which we also use every day. We enjoy them because they serve an everyday purpose while being beautiful pieces at the same time. We have hosted many lunches and dinners at Benji’s dining table for years now, and it is in the foreground of many happy pictures of friends and family celebrating a meal.
Tumba-Tumba, since 2013 Datu, since 2016
Aman Santos, painter, book designer Benji Reyes Works
Benji and I have common friends and are bonded by creativity. Having crossed from the medical field into the realm of fine arts, Benji and Carina were among the first ones to appreciate my work. Trading woodwork for paintings gave me that preferential access to his work.
Now, Benji’s creations are a part of my everyday life: my work desk, some chairs, and a console table. Some have grown their respective patina and revealed their natural texture. One unique item in my collection is an unfinished pawn piece Benji gave me in 2012. It stands out because it gives me a glimpse of Benji’s creative process—raw, with so much imagination; pure, distinct, and natural; imaginative, but not contrived.
I first met Benji and Carina 24 years ago for my production methods class at the University of the Philippines College of Fine Arts, an interview that paved the way to our friendship today. Words alone don’t do justice to Benji’s works. They attest to the saying, “Inspired by nature, designed by man.”
Loverne Suratos, friend of 15 years
My husband and I ‘found’ him way back in 2005, or was it 2004? My husband and I had regular art appreciation days as our break from work—local artists’ paintings in small shops, pottery in the provinces, all local materials, and crafts. Still, we particularly love Philippine wood, be it a dead root or a polished piece. He might come across initially as evasive (even snooty) because, unlike other artists’ works that you readily find in the mall, you have to seek him and his work out.
So that’s what we did: looked for Benji Reyes. When we finally found him, it was an instant click. We shared stories about any topic you could think of, but mostly about life, family, and yes, of course, wood. The way I saw it, he was as passionate with wood as with his family. (Well, now I think he is more infatuated with his grandchildren than with wood! LOL.)
I have been taking seriously one quote from him: “Do it right the first time.” It applies to all facets of our lives, in the small, everyday events and the big decisions we have to make.
To say that Benji is generous is an understatement. I do not think I have enough words in my vocabulary to aptly describe Benji as a person, a friend, and an artist. For me, he is an ideal Kuya (older brother) that I never had: highly principled, always ready to listen, unselfish, and …crazy!
He continually challenges everyone:
his students, to develop and find their own style
his friends, to stick to their principles in life
his family, to follow their hearts
his employees, to live a better life
his clients, to choose only the pieces they would like to use and keep forever (even if they can afford everything)
and himself, most especially, to keep getting better and to explore all possibilities, which for him seems endless.
A Benji Reyes piece is just like the Benji Reyes person: You think you have known it for years, yet one day you stare at it and see it from a different angle and are surprised to discover a curve that you hadn’t notice before. Then you get to appreciate its totality more.
You can see how romantic he is in his pieces:
the passion in the design
the time spent in its execution
the love and appreciation of the wood’s natural color and texture
the gracefulness of the three-dimensional curves
Careng should be jealous!
Franklin and Lianne Gomez, friends of 15 years
Lianne We kind of stumbled upon Benji’s work. We lived in the UK and Indonesia but held off from buying furniture because we wanted pieces that had meaning for us as Filipinos. We knew there had to be a Filipino artist who could do functional art at a very high level, but we just hadn’t found him yet. Then I saw some of his pieces in my friend’s house and was quite struck at the level of workmanship, creativity, and character. You know it’s a chair, but it’s more than a chair. It’s a beautiful chair! You want to sit on it, look at it, and touch it. And you wonder, how can a chair be this beautiful?
Franklin We’ve known Benji for 15 years now. He was introduced to us by our doctor-friends, the Suratoses, who are big fans of his. We visited his place, Tahanan, in Antipolo and became fans ourselves upon seeing his work. We bought our first Benji pieces during that first visit.
The words I would use to describe Benji are authenticity and boundless generosity. I took up woodworking as a weekend hobby last year (guess whose influence!) and would shamelessly consult Benji on even the mundane things. He always responds comprehensively and quickly, making you feel your questions are important to him. You can sense he’s genuinely happy to share his knowledge and passion! I shared with him my first project, a basic worktable, which I learned from YouTube. I had a few good old hardwood pieces from our gate, which I intended to use as a tabletop. But because I lacked the tools and experience to make a decent tabletop out of recycled wood, he offered—no, insisted—to give me one beautifully crafted top, cut to specs, perfectly polished, and branded “BR.” And, he had it delivered to my house! We’d known each other for a long time, but I was still blown away by his kindness and generosity. He told me, “I’d like you to have a really nice first project so you will be inspired (to pursue woodworking).” A few months since that first project, I can say I’m enjoying woodworking a lot!
Lianne One day, Benji brought us to his workshop to show a piece in progress. My daughter said, “It’s wood, right, Mommy? But it looks so soft. How can Tito Benji do that?” That probably sums up the appeal of Benji’s work. He works with hardwood, but he shapes it into creations with individual personalities.
For me, Benji stands for the values of nonconformism, individuality, and integrity. When you see a piece, you know it’s a Benji Reyes. I like Benji as an artist and as a person. As a person, he is a family man, a loyal, fair, and thoughtful friend. He is also hilarious and sentimental. As an artist, there is a uniqueness to his pieces. A thorough thought process goes into each one while respecting the wood’s nature. It’s hard to explain, like when you want to make a table, for example, you list down what you need, the exact size of the wood, and how to assemble it… but with Benji’s pieces, he starts with the wood and thinks of what he can coax out of it. He’s like a wood whisperer.
Franklin We’ve been privileged to own a few of Benji’s pieces—dining table and chairs, Idlipan (a daybed), Seksing Sekritarya (office desk), and bookshelves he designed for the kids. One unique piece he made for our family of four is a cleverly designed wall sculpture made of four different kinds of wood. Each piece interlocked with the next, each containing a piece of wood representing the other family members, sharing the same DNA. Just brilliant. And truly meaningful. Of course, I’m proud to own a one-of-a-kind “Franklin-BR” collab table!
In our household, we refer to Benji’s pieces as Tito (Uncle) Benji’s table, Tito Benji’s bookshelf, Tito Benji’s daybed, Tito Benji’s this, and Tito Benji’s that! Just like the tagline of Patek Philippe, “You never really own a Benji Reyes. You merely look after it for the next generation.” Benji’s works are heirloom pieces, a treasure for any family privileged to enjoy them in their lifetime.
Lianne Benji’s work brings pride to me as a Filipino. When Filipino and foreign friends admire his work in our house, I always tell them it’s a Filipino artist. Even the names of his work evoke a certain old-world Filipino nostalgia. Take Idlipan (For Slumbering). We would call a bed “tulugan,” right? But only a Filipino would fully understand the beauty of the word “idlipan.” I also like looking at the different chairs because each one has an individual personality.
Franklin Benji is authentic. You know he deeply treasures friendship. When the man calls you “Bro,” it is not a casual address. He is a being a brother who deeply cares. You are a part of him as he is a part of you.
Thank you, Benji, for being a brother and friend! God bless you and the works of your hands. •
Judith Arellano Torres is the former editor-in-chief of BluPrint magazine, which she led for 11 years. She edited four books, Blueprints for 2050, Design Better, Tropical Architecture for the 21st Century Books 1 & 3, and co-wrote the latter two. Before BluPrint, Judith worked for 17 years in television in a variety of roles, including COO of the ABS-CBN News Channel (ANC); COO, executive producer, and editor at Probe Productions, Inc.; and producer for CNN International, covering the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore.
