Raul Francisco & Joanna Preysler-Francisco: Dark, seductive art in the house of love

I don’t know what sorcery there is, but time seems to stop upon entering the apartment of Provenance Gallery owners Raul Francisco and Joanna Preysler-Francisco. Everything ceases to be Manila or Makati or Magallanes, and becomes something else. What or where, specifically? With its antler chandelier, bronze octopus, expressionist artworks, vintage lamps and cabinets, as well as its palette of infinite shades of browns (from auburn to bordeaux), the place would make visitors think there is a window somewhere that would open up to a breathtaking view of the river Seine. With a bottle of Delord Bas-Armagnac and truffle mushroom cannelloni on the table, the map of a long and lovely evening lying in front of us, cue some pastoral musette or La Môme Piaf and we are all set.

Raul points to a terrace with two chairs. “That’s where Joanna and I have coffee in the morning.” The entire complex was built in the mid-’80s and the couple moved in 2003. The entire thing had a different look then: modern Asian with a big lohan or opium bed surrounded by panels of abstracts. Raul recalls, “Joanna told me, ‘We are in a happy stage in our life, let’s put color.’” And those colors are by Filipino contemporary artists such as Ronald Ventura, Winner Jumalon, Alfredo Esquillo, Welbart, Andres Barrioquinto and Jason Montinola, which dominate the living room and den. Even climbing up the stairs, you would encounter art — eyes, hands, a multitude of heads floating in a stew of chiaroscuro.

Raul characterizes their home as busy, but there is breathing room. There is a lot going on, but the look is cohesive, there is harmony. Good taste plays a starring role in this one. That same philosophy is realized in the fashion brands founded by Raul and Joanna: from Carbon and Tint and Eterno, to their latest baby, Othello, a multi-brand lifestyle store with an art component at Power Plant Mall.

He explains, “The key, I think, in curation is to make everything merge together and create a vibe.”

Joanna chimes in. “People think that when something is ‘curated,’ it is contrived. No, ‘curated’ for us means a decluttered life, separating the essentials from the non-essentials, choosing what matters more. It is as authentic as it gets, because you have sifted through everything. You keep what’s authentic; you throw away what’s toxic.”

And it pertains not just to objects, but to people as well. “Keep only what you love,” Joanna remarks. “Raul always tells me, ‘You are the sum total of the books you’ve read and the company you keep.’ I’ll take it a step further: you are also the sum total of the environment that you live in. When our kids come home, we want them to feel that it’s their hearth, that it’s a nest.”

To put it simply, they want to be surrounded with things that they like. Raul reiterates, “Others think we are social people, but we love just staying home with our kids. Maybe invite a few friends over for dinner.” Partake of Joanna’s must-try Negroni cocktail or soak in Raul’s superb taste in music. (Lou Reed’s Walk On The Wild Side soundtracks my endless swig of Menabrea Italian beer during the interview with the couple.)

He points to an old lamp bought segunda-mano at Makati Cinema Square. The restoration alone cost more than the actual thing itself — how it was dipped in gold, how its crystals were dabbed in vinegar to get a certain sparkle, etc. Other objects were bought from a flea market at Porte de Clignancourt in Paris, or Marché aux Puces. There is an old Chinese box, a dining table from the ’40s previously owned by Raul’s grandmother, a ’50s Italian bar cart or tea trolley, a few bamboo chairs — odds and ends that you would think don’t belong together are co-existing in a magical French Cinéma Vérité kind of way.

“Everything in our place was chosen unanimously,” says Joanna. “When our friends visit, they would tell Raul, ‘Can you fix our house?’”

“(The apartment) has lots of layers,” shares Raul. It’s not just your cookie-cutter domicile, he adds. “It has lots of stories, narratives and vignettes. Just like my life with Joanna — with lots of different chapters.”

They have built a loving crib out of a void, just as they have built a beautiful life out of nothing. She explains, “Just as we grew as a couple, so did the things in our home.”

What’s the first thing you show to friends when they visit?

Joanna answers, “My kids, our dog Henry the 1/8, a glass of Negroni.”

She expounds, “When our kids sleep in our room, I tell Raul, ‘Everything that is important is behind that locked door.’ What is essential to me are my kids, my husband, my exercise, our work, and a few friends — that’s it.”

The young ones — two from Joanna’s previous marriage, and one with Raul — love to hang with their parents. Their 25-year-old daughter Monica, a fitness instructor, would text Joanna, “Mom, where are you? Let’s have lunch.” Joanna maintains a Viber thread with Monica and Joanna’s sister Karina. Their 20-year-old son Mio, who is currently taking up law, would never walk past Joanna without kissing her forehead. And 10-year-old Diego — dapper in his denim jacket and Adidas Superstar — tells The STAR photographer Geremy Pintolo that he wants to join the photoshoot with his mom and dad.

Joanna says they are so blessed to have good children. “I wasn’t like that when I was growing up (laughs).”

Raul interjects, “But Joanna is sunny at 75 degrees — all year round, you can never get her down. Five bucks and a cup of coffee, she’s already happy. Five bucks, five thousand, five million — all the same to her (laughs).”

Joanna says with a laugh, “Oy, di ko pa na-test ang five million.”

We ask the two if there is a switch they turn off when they get home from work, and what do they do to relax.

The wife describes her husband as someone who has a “healthy sense of paranoia,” is incapable of just having a hobby (since he gets the urge to turn it into a business), and is constantly thinking and planning the next big thing 24/7 — except when he finally gets his vape out and chills. The husband describes his wife as someone ensconced in the “here and now.” Both of them say they are perfect for each other.

“We smooth each other’s edges,” she says. “Sometimes I tell him, ‘The house needs a little softness, a bit of femininity.’ He, on the other hand, is the method to my madness. We balance each other out.”

I am here at the home of Raul Francisco and Joanna Preysler-Francisco hoping to talk about paintings with impeccable provenance; curios and antiques bought during trips to Paris, Milan, Lisbon or other cinema-worthy crannies and nooks of poetic Europe; décor and fixtures that exude everything plush, lush, deluxe and carefully, skillfully curated.

But what I have encountered is far more valuable.

“In 1998, I lost everything,” reveals Raul. “I lost my business in the States and I had to come home to Manila. When the dust settled, I was negative five million pesos.” But the man was undaunted.

Joanna, having separated from her first husband, was living in a tiny apartment in Muntinlupa with Monica and Mio. She was broke but determined to brighten things up for her kids.

Joanna says, “Just last year, Monica told me, ‘You know what, mom. I never had any bad memories growing up because you made things fun. I remember when you would say, “Let’s go have a picnic for dinner.” Then you would lay our comforter on the floor and we would eat. I didn’t realize at that time that we didn’t have a dining table. Then you would put up Manila paper and let me and my friends draw. I realize now that it was because we didn’t have any curtains. Then you would bring out all your clothes and say, “Let’s play dress-up.” That was because we didn’t have a TV set.’ She never felt that there was a lack. And I always believed that things were going to get better.”

Then Joanna met Raul. And Raul met Joanna. It was the start of a new chapter in their lives. You could just imagine Edith Piaf singing about roses and having no regrets.

To make a long story short (starting from zero and eventually gaining everything), they would eventually get back on their feet and find a cozy Parisian-type flat in the middle of manic Metro Manila. Filled the place up with art, love, books, good food, even greater drinks, and — on certain nights — Joanna’s karaoke rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart. With her kids singing backup.

Everything in its right place.