Celeste Legaspi couldn’t recall exactly when the thought of taking a break from show biz crossed her mind. Was it 15 years ago, maybe 20? She wasn’t keeping count. But while the
“when” is a bit hazy, the “why” couldn’t be clearer: The industry had ceased to tickle her.
“I quit simply because I was no longer challenged by what I was doing. Everything was starting to be routine,” the seasoned singer-actress-producer said in a recent roundtable interview with the Inquirer .
During her hiatus, Legaspi took educational trips with the Museum Volunteers of the Philippines.
She also nagged her children to give her many grandkids.
But the artist in her never left. Legaspi, who described herself as an “eternal student” of the craft, started taking acting lessons in Actor’s Studio East, a school in Cubao, Quezon City that is run by her American son-in-law, Blake Allan.
“I love learning; the day I stop is the day I become useless,” she said. “You may have no immediate use for what you’re studying now, but it keeps your brain sharp and your creative juices flowing.”
Legaspi did accept acting gigs from time to time, none of them compelling enough to make her contemplate a serious show biz comeback—until late last year, when she was asked to be part of the restaging of the Nick Joaquin play “Mga Ama, Mga Anak.” The fire in her belly was stoked.
At last, a project that she could sink her teeth into, and apply newly-acquired acting skills! “The challenge of using what I had just learned spurred me on,” the actress pointed out.
Legaspi, who rose to fame in the 1970s via OPM classics like “Saranggola ni Pepe,” penned by her husband Nonoy Gallardo, has kept the momentum going. She was in the cast of the recently-concluded GMA 7 drama series “Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real.”
Now, she is deep in rehearsals for the coming screen adaptation of the musical play “Larawan”—based on Nick Joaquin’s “A Portrait of the Artist as Filipino”—which she is coproducing with talent manager Girlie Rodis.
Have you always wanted formal training in acting?
I’ve always felt I needed to hone my skills as an actress; I just didn’t have the chance until now.
How many teachers are there in the Actor’s Studio East?
As of now, Blake, my daughter Waya’s husband, is the only teacher. He studied at the Tisch School of the Arts in New York City, then moved to Los Angeles to teach acting. He came to the Philippines upon the advice of a Filipino friend.
Blake, who first saw my daughter in one of her gigs in saGuijo Café, had always dreamed of putting up an acting school. We were like, “Why not try it here? The competition in Los Angeles is stiff.” We helped him start.
What’s the curriculum like?
The lessons are grounded on the Meisner, Stanislavski and Chekhov techniques. These are not mere workshops, but full courses, with four levels: Tier 1, Tier 2, Advanced—which I’ll be in next year—and Masters. The school is in its second year and we may be expanding soon.
You could be a teacher.
No, I don’t think so!
What is the profile of the students?
We get students, models, former soldiers… people thinking of changing careers and have that gut feeling that they can become actors. One of my classmates was an IT person, never read a script. Next thing I heard, she was working on student films.
Does that mean anyone can act?
It’s actually good if you don’t have prior experience—it’s like a clean slate.
What, for you, is the core of acting?
Observation. Sometimes [movie and television] stars fail in this aspect because they’re preoccupied with how they talk, how they look.
Did you apply what you learned to “Ang Dalawang Mrs. Real”?
I had this scene with Susan Africa and Lovi Poe, inspired by the 1930s movie “The Women,” which starred Joan Crawford. It’s about an older woman’s husband being “stolen” by someone a lot younger.
I was to slap them and pull their hair, and Blake was coaching me via SMS. Susan told me, “I’m so scared of you now!” The coaching helped me understand what I was trying to achieve.
Did you notice a difference?
My training helped me understand my character’s situation and motives. Then things just happened naturally. I didn’t even know I was smiling menacingly as I approached Lovi. All I saw was this beautiful, young woman—and I was going to slap her for all the old women who had lost their youth and beauty!
How did Lovi take the slap?
She probably thought I was fragile. But I go to the gym four times a week; I do Zumba, yoga and Pilates. She didn’t know what was coming! I asked if I hurt her; she said yes.
What was it like working with Maricel Soriano?
She’s such a natural actress. One of the things I learned from the Meisner technique was connecting with my scene partner, which is hard when you’ve just met someone. Maricel made my job easier.
From the first day of taping, she treated me like a mother. I got used to her style. She would read the script and add her own stuff—that’s her process. It’s exciting to work with a vibrant actress like Maricel.
What about people’s misconception of her?
She’s brutally frank, but compassionate and warm. People don’t see that vulnerable side. I took a liking to her instantly. She also took care of me. When she knew that I was ready for the scene, she would signal everyone to start. I believe she could make the transition into directing.
What kind of fulfillment do you get from doing teleseryes?
Scenes are not shot in order, so you have to know your material. I find it harder than doing theater. You get only a couple of minutes to memorize your lines. It’s also a lot of fun; I mean, how often can you slap or pull someone’s hair in real life ?
Are you doing another one soon?
I’d love to, but there has to be a cutoff time. In “Mrs. Real,” my cutoff was 1 a.m.—after that, I get so agitated, I just want to go home. Lack of sleep takes a toll on the voice.
Do you still take voice lessons?
Yes, the vocal cords are muscles—they need working out. It’s also good for my lungs, since I’m asthmatic.
Are you planning to record a new album?
There are offers, but I really don’t know. If I’m not challenged, I won’t do it. My son Ige, who’s with Generation band, wants to produce a big band album for me. That’s a good idea. We’ll see.
Would you have auditioned for “The Voice PH” if you were younger?
I hate auditioning.
Your husband Nonoy wrote one of your finest songs, “Tuliro.”
Yes, but he doesn’t write as much nowadays.
Who would you like to see revive “Tuliro,” aside from your daughter Waya?
I’m not sure, but whoever that may be, I would love to see him or her handle the song differently. Maybe I’ll wait for Lyca [Gairanod, “The Voice Kids PH” winner] to grow up. She has the personality.
You were one of the founding members of Organisasyon ng Pilipinong Mang-aawit (OPM).
President Aquino swore me in as ex-officio member. I’m not as active as before, but I know that membership is growing, and it’s easier to get sponsorship for projects. I appreciate the hard work of the president, Ogie Alcasid.
You’re also a member of the Performers Rights Society of the Philippines.
Yes, We are seeking government accreditation to collect royalties whenever our films and other works are used. It doesn’t have to be a lot—we just want recognition.
Your song, “Mamang Sorbetero” is played frequently in a native goods store.
I’m flattered. I wish they’d pay me!
Can you tell us more about “Larawan”?
It’s the movie version of “Larawan, the Musical” (1997), which I produced with Girlie. The libretto is by the late National Artist Rolando Tinio, music is by Ryan Cayabyab. I’m acting in it along with my “Mrs. Real” costar Robert Arevalo. It will be directed by Loy Arcenas. Waya is doing the screenplay. We have started rehearsals and preproduction, and we may begin filming in June. We’ll use live audio.
What are the challenges?
This movie is not exactly box-office material, so we have to work extra-hard to convince people to invest in us. We have to make the movie excellent.
Is Nonoy involved?
He’s there for the financing! He did the music and libretto for the play “Sino Ka Ba, Jose Rizal?” (1996). Libretto also means, “Libre ito… nag-abono pa siya sa talent fees! That’s what it’s like to be producers.
It’s not a very glamorous job.
Not at all (laughs)! Sometimes we get sponsorships, but not enough. So far we’ve produced seven plays, including “Kenkoy Loves Rosing” (1992), “Alikabok” (1995), “Fire Water Woman” (1999), and “Saranggola ni Pepe” (2008).
Those were not easy to produce. Sometimes we’d be rehearsing and wondering, “Why do we even do this ?”
So why do you?
Because we’re crazy!