Elmer Ducay sits in the signless flower shop where he works, sketching pen and ink drawings at a small table by the window. Overlooking Hamdan Street, the florist waits for customers.
“They sleep in the mornings,” he says. “Sometimes I hide but my hand and my heart want to make paintings. Even in hiding I keep doing art.”
Ducay is a self-trained artist from the Philippines who paints bright landscapes and still-life oil paintings. He also sketches monochrome portraits and animals. For Ducay, art is a way to pass the time on long, quiet shifts.
On his three-and-a-half hour afternoon break, he works at an easel in the upstairs storage space where he keeps a growing collection of canvases.
Until now, his work has been a secret. After a chance encounter with a poet, Ducay’s works will be exhibited to the public for the first time at Cafe Arabia in October and at Bodytree Studio this November and December.
Bahareh Amidi, an Iranian-American poetry therapist, saw Ducay by chance while shopping, seated at his usual spot sketching a horse with deep eyes and soft hair. Curious, she introduced herself and Ducay presented his notebooks of pen and ink drawings.
“They’re very transparent, they’re very true,” says Amidi. “For me, they’re just very, very real and it’s not like he’s pretending to be something or somebody. It’s who he is and I think it reflects beautifully in what he draws.”
Recognising Ducay’s talent, she helped to have his work exhibited.
“It’s so alive and so fresh, I just love it,” says Aida Mansour, the owner of Cafe Arabia.
“It’s not easy to come across artists doing this size of painting. It creates an atmosphere to the room that’s so vibrant and so refreshing and I think in this part of the world we need colours.”
The carpenter’s son has never taken an art lesson. As a child in Bacolod City in the Philippines, he drew in the sand outside his apartment block.
In secondary school, he scribbled on school walls in marker and pen. He would go to class early and draw school scenes and landscapes on the blackboard. He only told one friend. The teacher was frustrated at having to wipe the chalk-covered blackboard every morning.
After graduation, he did odd jobs in construction, sold fruit and traded livestock between the countryside and city. During elections, he exhibited on the street to attract campaigning politicians with deep pockets.
Ducay attended college part time, but eventually dropped out and bought a ticket to Abu Dhabi. “Because there is opportunity here,” he says.
A friend referred him to a printing press, where he was hired on-the-spot as a graphic designer. With a full-time job, Ducay immediately tried to enrol in art classes but the Dh200 hourly rate was a quarter of his monthly salary. Ducay later left the job to work at Piece of Art flower shop.
His first paintings in the Emirates sold by chance. He had taken three pieces to a local gallery that offered to exhibit his paintings at a price equivalent to those of another Filipino artist. It did not cover his material costs.
Ducay left, disappointed, carrying the paintings under his arms when he was called to a sheikha’s house for a last-minute order. When he arrived, the art caught her eye and she offered him Dh9,000 for the set.
Five years later, Ducay is still unknown and continues to paint in secret.
Those who ask are shown his hidden work. “I sold a lot of paintings here but I keep them upstairs in case my boss doesn’t want this,” says Ducay. “The people who love art, they say: ‘Wow, it’s amazing.’ They say my art deserves a good price. So by doing the things I love, I earn money.”
After work, Ducay goes home to a flat in Tanker Mai where he lives with his wife, a sales associate. They support siblings, parents and a 2-year-old son in the Philippines living with Ducay’s parents. “It’s difficult but you know, sometimes you need to sacrifice,” says Ducay. “I want to give a good opportunity for my kid.”
News of the exhibitions has not changed his routine. “I am doing painting as usual. No change. Just the same.”
Anna Zacharias is a senior features writer at The National.
