Saying goodbye to filmmaker Sergio Goes
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I don't even know how to start a column like this one. Do I start by saying goodbye, or do I start with an introduction? And how do you properly introduce someone like Sergio Goes?
When it comes to describing a vibrant life well lived — and one that was too soon taken — there are no words. I take that back. There are plenty of words — gifted, driven, impassioned, generous, perfectionist, compassionate — but none of them do Sergio Goes, the artist, the father, the man, complete justice.
When we lost him in July, we knew things could never be the same.
Goes, whose short life was full of the things that make life worth living, left an indelible mark on this city. That starts with founding the annual Cinema Paradise Film Festival, then opening the popular Chinatown nightclub Next Door, all the while showing us what the world looks like through his eyes.
His award-winning photographs, which have appeared in a number of local, national and international publications, were more than still shots courtesy of a talented professional photographer. They were moments. Raw and beautiful. And real.
If you had more than a second to spare, Goes did, too. Quick chats over drinks at thirtyninehotel about his latest magazine find (how he loved a good glossy!) quickly turned into long talks about film and politics. He knew a little something about film, because in addition to his other talents, Goes was a filmmaker.
My first encounter with Goes was watching his award-winning documentary, "Black Picket Fences," about an aspiring rapper and young father in Brooklyn — a film that looks in on the struggle that goes on for some in this country. The film does more than document a culture that, to a native Brazilian like Goes, was fascinating and in need of some illumination; it also records Goes' compassion and love of humanity. His innate need to effect change.
Goes drowned while free diving off Waikiki. He went missing a day before his body was found. He left behind a 6-year-old son, Gabriel. A celebration of Goes' life, which will also be a fundraiser for Gabriel, happens Sunday at Aloha Tower Marketplace.
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From the mouth of friends Sergio Goes' friends celebrate his life, in their own words: • Richard Earl Leong Yu Ralya, artist and co-owner of thirtyninehotel: I remember hanging out with Sergio at his Cinema Paradise office, back when it was above the old Studio One gallery (near Indigo on Nu'uanu Street). We were both entrenched in the Chinatown revival — me with thirtyninehotel and him with Next Door. We'd run into each other all over Chinatown at night and at Kaimana beach in the day. In December 2005, he asked me to share his new office at the corner of Smith and King. He dubbed it the Oval Office because of the curved wall of windows that spanned the south and west sides of the room. It wasn't huge, but it had character ... and that, to both of us, was key. By January of this year, with all of the equipment we had each accumulated, the Oval Office was no longer big enough for the two of us. So, we both decided to make a move. He set up a home office so that he could spend more time with his son Gabriel. ... The last time I saw Sergio was at my wedding in June. He seemed so happy that day ... so at peace with the world. I mean that not in retrospect, but it was something I remember thinking to myself that day. After the wedding, I made a resolution to start making more of an effort to spend time with him. So I eventually called him up and we made plans for him to start teaching me how to properly free-dive. Two days later on July 11, we were on Kaua'i and got a text message from a friend saying that Sergio had drowned. I still don't think I entirely believe that he's gone. It certainly doesn't feel like it. Every time I pick up my camera, or go out into the ocean ... it seems like his presence is very much still here. I suppose I will always lament not having known him longer, or spent more time with him while he was here. But the fact of the matter is, Sergio lived his life to the fullest, and he died doing what he loved. I can only hope someone else will be able to say the same of me when I pass on. Pura Vida, my friend ... you inspire me. • Barbara Pleadwell, of Hastings and Pleadwell, a publicrelations firm. Pleadwell's husband Jayson Harper, who is the creative director for PacificBasin Communications, worked with Goes: We learned of Sergio missing while we were traveling in Micronesia. His name was on our lips as we made our best attempts at free diving in Pohnpei. We talked about how he would be in heaven in this place, that he could bring Gabriel. The day was glorious and we shot amazing photos with our rinkydink camera, so of course we thought of Sergio. The next morning at breakfast Jayson was taking advantage of the Wi-Fi in our resort to check e-mail. He looked up at me and said, "Sergio is missing. He was free diving. ..." Jayson looked at me and then he quizzed me about the likelihood of someone being found in a situation like this. I was honest. I said it was unlikely. I felt sick telling him that, and I wanted to take it back. It sounds melodramatic, but it's true that our Pohnpei sunshine disappeared and rain poured down on us that day. Jayson stopped speaking. He went to bed for hours on end, and woke up only to pound out an e-mail to his co-workers. The only thing I remember from that e-mail were two lines ... "It's odd mourning at a distance ... Sergio, send us photos." • Summer Partlon, a dancer who performs with local troupes Giinko Marischino and Sama-dhi Hawaii: Sergio, Andrea (Gabriel's mom), Gabriel (Sergio's son) and I used to live together. I remember how close Sergio was to Gabriel. They would sleep together in their room, all cuddled up to each other, Papa embracing child, and Gabriel adored every moment of it. Sergio's voice still lingers in my mind ... so strong and very enthusiastic about any new adventures he was encountering at the time. He has left behind such an amazing amount of work that still needs to be shared with the world. |
