*303. Pampanga’s Churches: SAN PEDRO APOSTOL CHURCH, Apalit

APLIT, APALIT! A religious procession, possibly to mark Corpus Christi, wends its way to the courtyard of San Pedro Apostol Church of Apalit. Ca. 1927. 

The bordertown of Apalit, founded by Augustinians in 1590, is built on swamplands by the banks of the great Pampanga River. Its first rudimentary church was probably started by Fr. Juan Cabello, who served the town on several occasions between 1641-45. A new church was also begun by Fr. Simon de Alarcia of stone and brick, which was never completed.

The foundation of the present church was laid by Fr. Antonio Redondo, the town’s parish priest who had it built for P40,000 following the plans of a public works official, Ramon Hermosa. For seven years (1876-1883) and under Guagua foreman Mariano Santos, the “pride of Pampanga, an indelible tribute to Fr. Redondo and the people of Apalit”was built and inaugurated in a series of ceremonies on 28, 29 and 30 June 1883.

The good father actually saved P10,000 as he paid the workers from his personal funds and astutely bought the materials himself. When the masons ran out of sand and bricks, Fr. Redondo would solicit the assistance of the town people by asking the sacristan to ring the bells. This way, he gathered enough volunteers to haul in sand from the river.

The completed church measures 59 meters long and 14 meters wide. Dedicated to the town patron, St. Peter,the church is built along neo-classic lines, with a graceful rounded pediment marking its façade, topped with a huge rose window—in contrast to the simple Doric pilasters and the two rectangular bell towers with pagoda roofs.

Its signature dome rises to about 27 meters and is supported by torales arches, with openings to light the church. Protective grills capped the doorway as well as the 3 circular rose windows on the church front. The church interior was decorated by an Apalit native, a pupil of the Italian painter Alberoni.

The feast of San Pedro or “Apo Iru”, is celebrated with ardour every June 29, including a raucous fluvial procession (“libad”) along Pampanga River. The seated ivory figure of “Apu Iru”—an antique ivory representation of the apostle attired as a Pope—is transferred from its Capalangan shrine to the Church, where it stays during the fiesta days until it is brought out for the annual “limbun”. From there, the beloved Apu is installed on a water pagoda for the traditional river festivities, a unique honor given to their patron who has given much to Apaliteños—a town, a home, a church and a colourful history.

*200. A Virgin's Tale: OUR LADY OF PAMPANGA

O, INDU! The original image of Virgen de los Remedios of Baliti, patroness of Pampanga. Ca. mid 1950s.

Perched high up in a home altar in my Ingkung’s room was a framed colored picture of a beautiful Lady that’s been there ever since I could remember. She had a most beautiful face, framed by a halo of golden stars and topped with a gem-encrusted crown. Resplendent in her blue and white satin robes and with a rosary in her hands, she watched over the room together with other plaster cast figures of the Sacred Heart, St. Therese of the Child Jesus and Our Lady of Lourdes. I knew that this particular representation of the Virgin was special, because every so often, we would bring down the picture, put it out the window and lighted candles on its side as a procession went by. I would also see similar pictures of this Lady hanging in other people’s homes around town.

It was only later that I would learn that the Lady in the picture was none other than the “Patroness of Pampanga”—Nstra. Sñra de los Remedios, our “Indu ning Kapaldanan”. It turned out that we not only had her framed picture, but also a big escayola version of the same Virgin, with molded clothes, a plaster crown and a tin halo.

Virgen de los Remedios was the central character in the turbulent post-War events unfolding in Pampanga, when the province was being called “Little Russia”. Many Kapampangans were being turned on to Communism, giving rise to social unrest that threatened to tear the province apart. Then Bishop Cesar Ma. Guerrero conceived of a crusade to bring back Kapampangans to the Catholic fold, and thus was born on 15 April 1952, the Cruzada y Buena Voluntad (Crusade of Charity and Goodwill), under the patronage of Our Lady of Remedies.

The original image was borrowed from a chapel in Baliti and was sent on an uninterrupted pilgrimage to all Pampanga towns (siba-balen) and parishes. Indeed, after a year, our Lady proved to be a true remedy for the turmoil in the province, converting and pacifying people, while bringing back devotion to the Faith.

The next year, when it was time for the image to be brought out again for its scheduled visits, the people of Baliti refused to loan their image. Fr. Generoso Pallasigui, then Baliti parish priest, was quite worried that “blood will flow” if Bishop Guerrero insisted on taking the image away. It was ironical that the image that was meant to bring Kapampangan together, was now causing divisiveness between the cruzada organizers and the “possessive” people of Baliti. (Years later, it was gathered that the people were misinformed about the news they heard about their Virgen de los Remedios—that it was going to be sent for coronation in Rome and then stay there permanently!).

Bishop Guerrero instead, had a replica made—and this new Virgen de los Remedios was the image that was canonically crowned on 8 September 1956 in San Fernando—a full 4 years after the inaugural crusade started in Masantol. Today, there are two other duplicate images that visit the northern and southern towns of Pampanga; the canonically crowned image is kept in the San Fernando Chancery and is brought out once a year for its coronation anniversary. The “Virgen de los Remedios of Baliti” reposes in its own chapel in Baliti, and the place is being propagated as a shrine by the residents who, for many years, had to endure the stigma of being branded as “selfish” community, long after the controversial rebuff.

In the meanwhile, the pilgrim Virgin continues its visits to every nook and cranny of Pampanga towns, moving and touching Kapampangans by the thousands. I, myself, have seen the dramatic effects of the visit in my town most recently. From June to the 2nd week of July, Mabalacat played host to the revered patroness of Pampanga. Townfolks turned out en masse and lined the bunting-decorated streets for the arrival of the Our Lady in Quitanguil. Santos, representing the barangay patron saints, stood on their flower-bedecked carrozas and joined the Mabalaqueños in the warm welcome, complete with band music.

Barangays tried to outdo each other in according the best welcome for the Virgen. In a show of solidarity, people worked together to spruce up their visitas and chapels, hang blue and white buntings, set up welcome arches and streamers to honor our Lady. For days, barangay chapels hummed with the sound of novena prayers, with devotees coming non-stop to join in the festivities.

On an overcast 17 July afternoon, when it was time to send off the image to its next destination--Hensonville in Angeles—hundreds of Mabalaqueños celebrated a festive Mass in the parish church, specially decorated for the grand mañanita. Then, the town residents, pastoral council members, Damas de Caridad and the Caballeros de Cristo formed a long convoy to accompany the image and the Santo Cristo del Perdon all the way to the city, singing and intoning prayers while continuing the tradition of lamak—an act of charity done through the sharing of donated goods, with the sick, the needy and the destitute.

In an age of skepticism, one only has to look at the attendant effects of our Lady’s visit on Kapampangans---you can see a deepening of faith, a return to prayer, a heightened sense of awareness of our social ills, and a strengthening of the will to make a difference -- to conclude that modern day miracles still happen. Our Indu ning Capaldanan has done it again.

*183. THE PROCESSIONS OF MALELDO

FOLLOW YOUR FAITH. A famil in Centra Luzon rolls out its carroza with the heirloom image of Sta.Maria Jacobe, one of the women who visited the tomb of Christ, for the annual Holy Week procession. Ca. mid 1920s.

The season of Lent officially begins on Ash Wednesday, a day of marked with abstinence, personal sacrifice and austerity. But somehow, or so it seems, during Semana Santa (Holy Week), all thoughts of economics and abject simplicity vanish as a people’s religious fervor find release in the opulent and dramatic prusisyons (or limbun) that feature a long parade of life-size heirloom santos and complex tableaus, visualizing the events of the Passion. Introduced to the Islands by our Spanish colonizers, holy processions have evolved from a simple act of veneration to complex showcases of ritual pageantry.

In terms of religious revelry, Pampanga offers some of the country’s more unique expressions of faith during Maleldo (Holy Week). Other than the display of blood and gore by magdarames (flagellants) culminating in actual and shocking crucifixions, the prusisyons (or limbuns )of old Kapampangan towns provide stunning spectacles featuring antique sculpted imagenes dressed in gold-embroidered vestments, crowned with gem-encrusted halos and diadems, festooned with dazzling lights and arrayed on flower-bedecked carrozas of silver.

Indeed, the list of the most treasured and remarkable santos that go on “limbun” during Maleldo is long. In Arayat, the age-old Manalangin (Agony in the Garden) tableau of the Medina family shows a small lithe angel with silver wings attired in short pants. In Guagua, which reputedly has the best processional line up, the ivory Dolorosa of the Limsons and the Sto. Entierro—figure of the dead Christ in its own stately funeral bier---are the images to watch. Nearby Sta. Rita boasts of an ancient calandra (owned by the Manalangs) still complete with its original and intricate silver fittings, lit by delicate antique tulip-shaped glass globes.

Angeles has its own Apung Mamacalulu (Sto. Entierro, owned by the Dayrits) which figured in a controversial 1929 Good Friday procession that ended in its kidnapping . It took the Supreme Court to resolve the issue of its ownership. While Apalit has an exquisite Magdalena and Mabalacat’s jewel is a beautiful Veronica, Lubao has a San Pedro that rides a boat-shaped carroza. Fernandinos in the capital city meanwhile, take pride in the images of the Sorrowful Virgin and Peter, handiworks of the country’s foremost santero, Maximo Vicente and the 19th c. Misericodia Christ image of the Rodriguezes.

Equally arresting are other quaint processional rituals such as that practiced in Bacolor. On Good Friday, handpicked representatives of prominent families take to the processional route dressed in black hoods while bearing the different symbols of the Passion—ladder, spear, whip, robe, etc.—on poles. This practice, called “paso”—has been a tradition in this town for as long as one can remember.

Other Pampanga towns like Betis and Mabalacat, also stage their own “dakit cordero” on Holy Thursday, where a “lamb” , handmade from cotton or from edible ingredients like yam, is brought to the church in a short procession, prefacing the eucharistic meal.

There are no signs that the Kapampangan’s interest in “limbuns” is waning, as evidenced by the growing number of images and the longer processions that take to the town streets each year. Even not-too-popular figures such as Sta. Maria Jacobe, Nicodemus, Jose de Arimatea are being added to the line-up. Blame it on his fierce and unflagging devotion to his God. Or his penchant for divine excess. One can also point to the pool of talented Kapampangan artisans who wield their chisels and paint brushes who create with ease and skill, these precious objects of veneration. Whatever the reason, we, Kapampangans, can continue our walks of faith content in the thought that our revered religious traditions will live on.

55. Rolling on the River: APALIT’S APUNG IRU FIESTA

VIVA APUNG IRU! Apung Iru’s Fiesta as celebrated seventy seven years ago. As one can see, the deep-seated traditions and rites have remain unchanged through the years. Picture caption reads,”Plancha (water float) of St. Peter and some decorated bancas, Annual Festival of Apalit, Pampanga, June 28-29, 1926”.

Religious festivals revolving around a body of water are common events in countries of Asia. Water, after all, is an all-important element that has come to stand for life. In India, mass bathing is done in the holy waters of Ganges River to cleanse people of their sins. In Thailand, every full moon on the 12th lunar month (usually mid-November), the Loi Krathong festival is held, to honor Mae Khongka, the mother of waters. Under a moonlit night, flowers, candles and incense are floated on rivers all over the country to the accompaniment of prayers, songs and fireworks display.

In the Philippines, fluvial festivities are also observed with much folk revelry especially in provinces with river towns like Bocaue (Bulacan) and Peñafrancia (Bicol). But in terms of mass fervor , unabashed excitement and elaborate preparation rituals, nothing beats the celebration of the fiesta of Apalit, highlighted by a traditional river procession of its pintakasi, Saint Peter or Apung Iru, on the waters of Pampanga River.

Held every last week-end of June (28-29 this year), the fluvial rites may have begun as a primitive festival to honor the many gods of nature that our ancestors worshipped. With the coming of our Spanish colonizers, the rites could have merged with Christian elements, mutating into the distinctive folk festival that we know today. In the midst of all these is the one object of the townsfolk’s deep veneration--the age-old ivory image of the titular patron, Apung Iru, originally owned since the early 1800s by Apalit’s eminent family, the Arnedos.

The life-size image shows a seated Saint Peter, complete with papal accouterments: a gold crown, cape, ring and staff. The santo is housed in the Capalangan barrio chapel after a fire gutted the private shrine where it used to reside. The religious pageant begins with a town procession of the santo, carried by members of the Knights of Saint Peter. Then, the sacred image is brought to the river bank of Sulipan where as much as five thousand people and a flotilla of boats wait with eager frenzy for the saint’s arrival. It is here where the libad or fluvial parade begins.

Anticipation mounts as Apung Iru is transferred from a wooden boat to a processional pagoda decorated with multi-colored flowers. Swimmers fill the river to assist in the smooth conveyance of Apung Iru. With the image enthroned, the floating pagoda begins its 7-kilometer, 2-hour journey to San Simon town. From the banks of the river, throngs would acknowledge the passing Apung Iru by waving leafy branches and fronds or by making the sign of the cross. With excitement reaching fever pitch, brave souls would dunk themselves in the waters of the river, unmindful of the danger, swimming alongside the flotilla as hundreds more throw food offerings to water-drenched devotees.

It is interesting to note that in Christian Goa, India, a similar fluvial festival is observed every 29 June to honor Saints Peter and Paul and to welcome the monsoon. Fishermen from the large fishing families of Bardez taluka would lash their boats together to form rafts on which religious presentations were made. From the 17th to the 19th century, Goa was a major center for ivory; could the fine ivory used in carving the image of Apung Iru have originated from this former Portuguese colony?

Whatever, Apalit’s ancient way of paying homage to Apu Iru remains unrivalled in color and spirit, and, flavored with the Kapampangan’s zest for living and feasting, continues to be a unique, mind-boggling experience that mixes deep religiosity with riotous revelry!
(5 July 2003)

45. LIMBUN: The Pageantry of Processions

WALK OF FAITH. In this 1938 “limbun” of Barrio Sta. Ines in Mabalacat, the cura parocco is shown leading the procession of santos while devotees carry a palio, to serve as cover for the Blessed Sacrament. Alex R. Castro photo collection.

Religious processions, introduced over four hundred years ago by our Spanish conquistadors, were held to mark the important feast days of our Christian religious calendar. The Lenten season, Christmas and town fiestas were major causes for ceremonials, and a holy procession, with all its pomp and pageantry, was essential to these celebrations.

The first documented procession was held to commemorate the recovery of the Santo Nino at Cebu, from a fire set by local villagers as they retreated from Miguel Lopez de Legazpi’s advancing forces. It was, in fact, a very simple affair: the santo was transported on foot from the San Agustin church to the site where it was found, followed by a throng of citizens assembled by the town councilor or regidor. This was followed by a host of festivities like bullfights, dance balls and fireworks display.

Accounts abound of early processions that were characterized by opulence that matched a people’s religious fervor. A Lumban, Laguna procession in the 1600, for instance, was described by Franciscan Felix de la Huerta as featuring decorations of pure gold and diamonds from affluent residents of nearby Nagcarlan, Majayjay and Liliw. Carrozas of rattan were encrusted with more gold and precious stones while lamps that lit the parade weighed 75 pounds. The Dominican celebration of La Naval, which commemorates the 17th century Spanish-Filipino victory against the Dutch, was held with Our Lady of the Rosary as the focal point of the procession. Borne on a flower-bedecked silver carroza, the image was processioned around Intramuros and back, with barefoot penitents in attendance. The 17th century Mexican-made image of Nuestro Padre Jesus de Nazareno, the Black Nazarene of Quiapo, has His own processions conducted every January 9, with Manila’s menfolk coming in droves to bear the santo on their shoulders. Semana Santa processions of old are often the most dramatic, with a long parade of life-size santos and complex tableaus, visualizing the events of the Passion.

Pampanga has its share of processions, both simple and grand--“limbun” or “lubenas” ( a corruption of the word “novena”) as they are locally called. An early barrio of Mabalacat town was even known as “Paglimbunan”, a place for processions. Riverine towns like Apalit have their fluvial processions, and during its June town fiesta, the image of their patron, “Apo Iro”, is borne on multi-storied pagoda mounted on rafts that then traverses the river to the accompaniment of hundreds of devotees on boats. Simliar fluvial celebrations were once held on Pasig River to honor San Nicolas de Tolentino during his feast day.

The feast of La Naval is also celebrated in Angeles City , a major Pampanga religious event held every 2nd Sunday of October and half of the city’s “twin fiesta” celebrations. The image of Nuestra Sra. Del Rosario and the Christ Child is taken from the Holy Rosary Parish for the traditional annual procession. Days later, on the last Friday of October, comes “Fiesta ng Apu”, an event to honor “Apung Mamacalulu”, the Lord of the Holy Sepulchre, whose story is linked with that of Angeles’s.

In 1928, the revered icon figured in an unforgettable Holy Week procession which resulted in the santo being stolen. The root cause was the controversy between then parish priest, P. Juan Almario and the recamaderos or caretakers of the image with regards to the disbursement of alms generated by the “Apu” processions. On Good Friday, as the procession wended its way to the church, a band of men snatched the image, in connivance, they say, with the local police. A case was filed by the Catholic Church; the image was recovered, although rumors persist that this was just a replica, and that the original “Apu” is somewhere in the town of Calamba, Laguna.
The Catholic Church has simplified most of its rituals today . Masses are shorter and the shrouding of images with purple cloth on Holy Thursday is rarely done by parishes. Intonations in Latin have all but disappeared from our missals. Even church vestments are devoid of heavy gold and silver embroidery, for practical reasons. Happily, one need only to look at our “limbun” on our street, to see that there are still those who carry on the old ways, maintaining our rich religious tradition, by walking literally with God.
(12 October 2002)

44. CHARIOTS OF THE GODS

WHEELS BENEATH MY WINGS. An elaborate carroza shaped like a chariot bears the image of Ntra. Sra. De la Milagrosa (Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal) during a Marian procession in Magalang. The carroza came equipped with expensive glass globes borne by angels, floral arrangements and a profusion of decorative carvings—scrolls, clouds, cherubs. Early 1920s. Alex R. Castro Photo Collection

Maleldo is that time of the year when families bring out their heirloom santos (processional saints) associated with the Passion and parade them off in ritual processions, arrayed in sumptuous gold-embroidered raiments and expensive devotional adornments. In the old days, these priceless santos—some larger than life—were lavished with gifts, with some receiving part of the year’s revenue from rice or sugar harvests for their upkeep and maintenance.

Not only did families dote on their treasured images, they also spent thousands on the wheeled platforms that bear them—carrozas or caros. The most prized carrozas are those made with panels of solid silver melted from old Mexican coins. The silver panels, often detachable, were made by craftsmen in “pinukpok” style, the same process in making metal décor for calesas, also known as repoussé, where designs are created by hammering the reverse side of the silver sheet. Other metalwork methods include chasing (indenting with a hammer or a dull-pointed object), embossing (raising in relief by pushing in the background) and engraving.

Long before the advent of wheeled carrozas were the andas (walkers), the platform mounts of santos, borne on the shoulders of able-bodied men. In Sevilla, Spain, these processional platforms were called pasos, which functioned as elaborate stage sets for the images. Andas referred to the structural supports for the paso. Heavy, decorated fabrics or faldas hung from the paso’s stretcher, thus hiding the paid carriers or costaleros. Eventually, as the size of platforms grew and the representations became more complex (the Ultima Cena tableaux has at least 13 santos!), the anda was mounted on a wheeled chassis for better maneuverability. Early carrozas had narrow calesa/cartela wheels, but these have now been replaced with modern, automotive tires for a smoother, jolt-less ride.

If one could not afford silver, wood (batikuling was a favorite) was utilized to make the carroza body. This was then carved, varnished, polychromed or gilded with gold. Historian Mariano A. Henson writes of an 1860 Holy Week procession in Kuliat (Angeles) in which images were carried on gilded floats, replacing the modest biers used in 1830. The gilding was done manually by women “who are not gluttonous and not given to smoke, chewing tobacco or buyo”. Woman’s saliva was used to moisten the gesso on the carroza so that the gold foil, when applied with a brush, stayed fast on the surface. This process assured the survival of the gilt even after years of handling and exposure to the elements.

Carrozas came in many forms: multi-storied, columned, canopied or made to look like boats. The carroza of Nstra. Sra. De las Estrellas, an ivory image owned by the late Carlos Mercado of Sasmuan for instance, is shaped like a chariot. Platforms can be designed with 8 sides or ochovado style. Carrozas carrying the sorrowful Virgin (Dolorosa) were equipped with a palio or a baldachin supported by carved poles or varas. The Mercado clan has a Sto. Entierro inside a calandra or a funeral coach, topped by angels bearing the symbols of the Passion. Silver chandeliers held glass virinas decorated with sampaguita flowers. In Mabalacat, the 28 emblems of the Passion (ladder, hammer, nails, crown of thorns, dice, etc.) are incorporated as silver milagros on the black sayal (skirting) of the carroza bearing Apung Mamacalulu.

During the Spanish times, the commodious ground floors (zaguans) of convents and large colonial mansions were perfect parking spaces for carrozas. Before storing, the metal parts were treated with shoe polish or zinc oxide dissolved in alcohol to prevent tarnish.

It would seem however, that carrozas not only served to carry santos, they were also used as funeral biers for children. I have seen at least one memento mori picture of an infant laid atop a carroza surrounded with flowers and lights, a beguilingly chilling sight. Perhaps, it was decided that this child, with a life still untainted, deserved to journey into the next life in the same spectacular way as our holy santos.

In the 1920s, families ordered their carrozas from ateliers in Quiapo, like the popular Maximo Vicente. The art of carroza making is still practiced in Pampanga although exceptional carvers are getting harder to find. One has to scour out-of-the-way religious shops in Betis and Guagua for these artisans. The Nicdaos of Bacolor and Gener Bautista of San Gabriel, Macabebe still accept commissions for old-style caros while Boyet Flores, a descendant of the famed Flores carving family from Betis, continues the tedious carroza-building tradition.

Whether burnished, silvered, chased or plated, each carroza is reflective of the highest degree of skill attained by our local craftsmen. That is why, this maleldo, when the santos come once more a-rolling, pay close attention to the carrozas—the spectacular splendor-on-wheels, bearers of divinities who have come down to earth to remind us of our Lord’s Passion, as well as the greatness of Kapampangan talent.

40. Pampanga’s Churches: SAN AGUSTIN, Lubao

UPON THIS ROCK. The baroque-style retablo mayor of San Agustin Church all lit up and bedecked with flowers for the town fiesta. Dated 5 May 1963.

Last 24 June 2002, the neo-classic San Agustin Church of Lubao came to national attention when it was used as a venue for the fairytale wedding of First Son, Mikey Macapagal-Arroyo and Angela Montenegro. It was a fitting choice as the historic church was also where Mikey’s grandfather and most well-known Lubeño, the late President Diosdado Macapagal was baptized. The church was spruced up with a new coat of cream colored paint, temporary airconditioning, extended altar flooring and even restrooms.

Lubao is one of Pampanga’s most ancient towns; located at the left bank of the Lubao (or Pasac) River, it was accepted as a visita of Tondo by the Augustinians on 3 May 1572. Three years later, Fr. Provincial Alfonso Alvarado was delegated to take care of the convento of San Agustin. Fr. Juan Gallegos was assigned as a resident priest. He must have constructed a church of light materials in sitio Sapang Pari, the landing place of Augustinian missionaries who sailed to Pampanga via Manila Bay.

Another source points to Fr. Francisco Coronel as the founder of the town in its present site, but he worked in the area for just a year and never returned to Lubao after being assigned to Bacolor. Subsequent construction were undertaken by Fr. Jeronimo de Venaque (1335) and Fr. Francisco Figueroa (1638). Damaged by an earthquake in 1645, the church continued its operations rent-free. The Augustinian Chapter of 1729 appropriated 500 pesos for the erection of a convent, with Fr. Vicente Ibarra as the prior. The convent was used by transfer students of arts and theology from the Estudio de Manila due to the British Invasion of 1762.

Lubao was to become a strategic missionary center. At one point, Betis and Sasmuan were annexed as visitas of the town. With the establishment of a grammar school and a printing press there, the town culture likewise flourished.

Early descriptions of the San Agustin Church, made of fine bricks and with large proportions, showed it to be “one of the most sumptuous in the islands”. An 1829 document reveals that the church “is constructed with masonry stone and bricks, very massive and big in size”. Some repair work were done under Fr. Antonio Bravo in 1893 and the interior murals depicting the life of San Agustin were most likely commissioned by Fr. Antonio Moradillo in 1893. The nave was originally painted by Italian artists, Dibella and Alberoni. Filipino revolutionaries occupied the buildings in 1898, which suffered more damages at the height of World War 2.

San Agustin Church is a remarkable example of 17th century Philippine architecture, characterized by classic lines and a solid stance. A triangular pediment and Ionic columns dominate the façade of the church. Inside, the retablo mayor, carved with florid baroque design, is flanked by doubled pilasters on the 1st level and single columns on the 2nd level. Carved ornamentation is kept at a minimum, creating a sense of quiet and simplicity, typical of Neo-classic renderings. The main niche features a wooden likeness of San Agustin, with a staff and a small church in hand, symbolic of his being a doctor of the Church. The only thing that mars the beauty of the altar is the modern blue neon lighting that has been installed to frame the central niche, an anachronistic feature for the centuries-old building. Nevertheless, the San Agustin Church is a rare monument to God around which the deep devotion of many generations of Kapampangans continue to revolve.
(22 March 2003)

17. WALK OF FAITH

FRIDAY, SHE WALKED. Our Mater Dolorosa participates for the first time in the Viernes Santo and Salubong processions of San Rafael Parish in Mabiga, Mabalacat. Shown before the santo is Troy Castro, the writer’s nephew, who also joined and finished the 2 km.+ prusisyon.

Last 18 April, our family-owned image of Mater Dolorosa (Sorrowful Virgin) joined the Viernes Santo procession of the San Rafael Parish in Mabiga, Mabalacat for the very first time, a significant day for us. It had always been our plan to process our santo in my hometown, in thanksgiving for prayers answered in connection with my father's death. Contrary to what doctors had said-that his transition to the afterlife will be full of pain-my father slipped away quietly, painlessly in 1998. But then, our town parish of Our Lady of Grace already had its own Dolorosa as tradition dictates no duplication of images.

Now, another opportunity had come. I had no idea that in the days leading to the scheduled procession, the people spearheading the religious festivities of nearby San Rafael Parish were frantically looking for a Dolorosa image to accompany the life-size Santo Entierro (the dead Christ) of the Briones family. The comparatively new parish had previously carried out very simple Semana Santa processions with just the Sto. Entierro image in attendance.

This year however, Msgr. Florentino “Ninoy” Canlas, the recently installed parish priest, was determined to have a better, more complete procession, which, at a minimum, should have images of Christ and the Blessed Virgin. Having come from Sasmuan known for its deep religious traditions, Fr. Ninoy urged his parish council to look far and wide for a suitable Dolorosa by contacting families who may have in their private homes such an image.

It so happened that Arwin Paul Lingat, an active member of the Our Lady of Grace youth group and an aide at Holy Angel’s Center for Kapampangan Studies where I am a consultant, knew of my santo. He immediately told Arnel Tapang, the indefatigable president of the San Rafael Parish Youth Ministry, who in turn, contacted me. And so, on that last week-end before Holy Thursday, I entrusted our holy image to Arnel’s care.

Our beautiful Dolorosa, a depiction of the Sorrowful Mother at the time of Christ’s death, was created for us by Mr. Francisco Vecin of Makati City, a famed maker and restorer of santos, bultos and carrozas. The works of Mang Kiko, who employs Paete and Pampanga carvers, can be found in major churches in the Philippines. Just like me, he is also a collector of antique santos, but he specializes in images associated with the Passion.

It was this interest that made me seek out the services of this modern-day santero. Three years ago, an old Paciencia image which needed restoration, came into my possession. This rare representation of the seated Christ, all bloodied and scourged, often scared my nephews and nieces when they came visiting my house. While in his talyer, I saw an exquisite, century-old Dolorosa head, with a moving, yet dignified expression of grief. All along, Mang Kiko too, was eyeing my Paciencia. Without hesitation, we agreed to swap images, and two months later, I was the proud owner of an almost life-size image of a Mater Dolorosa.

Our antique Dolorosa head is all-original, except for the new oil paint encarna. It is fitted with original glass eyes and new glass tears. The open, anguished mouth is deeply carved, a sign of great age, with individual teeth and tongue showing. Her lashes are made of doghair, while her wig is of fine jusi fiber. She was carved with such details as pierced ears to accommodate zarcillos (earrings) and neck folds, a Chinese influence. She comes with 2 sets of detachable hands, one, traditionally clasped, and the second, open and outstretched (used in Salubong ritual).

Unlike other Dolorosas with facial aureolas, our santo wears a “pinukpok” brass burst (resplandor) on her head, plated in gold, designed after jewelled fittings of santas in Sevilla, Spain. Her dagger-pierced heart is exposed on her breast (the usual iconography shows 7 daggers, representing her 7 sorrows). She is dressed in a white robe with flowered appliques and caped in black velvet.

On that hot, sweltering Viernes Santo afternoon, our Dolorosa stood in quiet dignity atop her lit and flowered wooden carroza (lent by the Pineda family) behind the image of Sto. Entierro, pulled by church “apostles”. The 2.5 km.+ prusisyun route wended its way from the church, spilling over to the main highway, until just before Golden Land Subd. and back. This year was a well-attended affair, with hundreds of candle-bearing devotees joining in the ritual procession. The next day—Holy Saturday--our Dolorosa, this time redressed with a mourning veil, participated in the Salubong rites that lasted till past midnight.

Indeed, the first-time participation of our treasured image did not only mark the beginning of a family panata, but also—as my friend and cultural activist Robby Tantingco aptly put it-- the start of a lifelong vocation, which is to keep our cherished religious traditions alive and to be one with the community in sharing the spirit of the Lenten season.
(26 April 2003)

9. And All the Angels & Saints: OUR SANTO TRADITION

IN HIS GRAVEN IMAGE. Wooden processional santos of the Virgin and Jesus Christ as Divine Shepherds (Divina Pastora/Divino Pastor respectively) show the high level of carving skills of Kapampangan santeros. Traditional iconography shows them carrying a lamb, in reference to the lost sheep (which represents Man), now found. Circa 1920s.

When our house in Mabalacat was renovated in the 1970s, the home altar was relocated to my bedroom. I recall a half a dozen or so statuaries enshrined in that altar, which was actually a niche atop my Mother’s antique cabinet. There was a Sacred Heart image of Christ with a broken head that has been badly re-glued, a Saint Therese of Lisieux with peeling paint, Our Lady of Lourdes and a wall plaque of Our Lady of Fatima. The centerpiece however was the 2 ft.-high plaster-cast image of Virgen de los Remedios that stared at me with unblinking glass eyes complete with eyelashes. That often gave me the creeps and so I used to cover my head with my blanket to avoid her gaze which seemed to follow me everywhere I went. Nevertheless, this early exposure to religious images must have spurred my later interest in collecting “santos”---carved religious images of Christ, the Blessed Virgin, saints and angels, of wood or ivory, from our distant colonial past.

The first Spanish missionaries who reached our islands brought with them religious statues that eventually became valuable instruments of evangelization. One such image is the Santo Niño of Cebu, the oldest santo in the country, given by Magellan in 1521 to Hara Amihan, wife of Rajah Humabon, who was converted upon seeing the wooden likeness of the Christ Child.

Soon, anitos were being replaced as objects of devotion, in favor of these more powerful santos that could be invoked for special favors or protection. San Ysidro Labrador, for instance, was the patron of laborers and farmers and his help was solicited for good harvest. San Antonio de Padua was called upon to help recover lost objects while Sta. Rita took care of desperate women with serious marital problems. But santos have their human side too, and when they failed to answer people’s prayers, they were often “punished” by their unhappy devotees by being locked inside aparadors (cabinets) or dusty kamaligs (barns).

Taking visual cues from estampitas (holy cards) and religious prints, thousands of local and Chinese carvers tried their hand in crafting santos of all shapes, sizes and medium. As proposed by Fernando Zobel de Ayala in his seminal book on santos, “Philippine Religious Imagery”, the handful of santos that have come down to us can be classified by style: Popular (products of self-taught hands, characterized by naïve or even primitive elements), Classical (santos that conformed closely to mainstream religious art and iconography) and Ornate (profusely decorated santos, often referring to ivories).

Santos were carved mostly in the round or de bulto. Others were of the mannequin types, with joints that can be posed (de gozne). Those that were made to be dressed often had nothing but a conical framework of pegs from the waist down, which was then covered with fabrics. Upon carving, the santo was primed with gesso or plaster of Paris mixture, then is painted in a process called encarnacion. There is another finishing technique called estofado, in which a layer of gold was applied on the body and then painted over. After which, intricate designs were incised, showing off the gold. This simulated the textures of rich embroidery on the clothes.

Santos were then outfitted with human hair wigs (cabelleras). It is said that the wigs of smaller ivory santos encased in glass virinas were made from the hair shorn from young novices. Abaca, jusi or piña hair also made suitable replacements. The eyes of santos were fashioned from glass (nowadays, these are made from broken fluorescent lamps or plastic bottles), made more realistic with eyelashes (made from human or dog hair). Plateros then fitted the santos with metal emblems and pieces of jewelry of tin, brass, or precious silver and gold--- from diademas (diadems), coronas (crowns), rostrillos (facial aureoles), potencias (head rays) to gargantillas (earrings) and bastones (staff or rod). The garments of ornate santos were created from fine fabrics like satin, damask or velvet stiffened with abaca lining. The robes were then elaborately and painstakingly embroidered with gold and silver metallic thread, further enhanced with sequins, gold spangles and tassels. Macabebe and San Luis ace embroiderers are known province-wide for their exquisite work in dressing up santos especially for processions.

Paete in Laguna and Quiapo, Manila were the acknowledged woodcarving centers of the country. The Sto. Entierro in the Mabalacat Parish is attributed to Aurelio Buhay of Paete town. Along Hidalgo Street in Quiapo, Maximo Vicente and Graciano Nepomuceno opened their talyeres, specializing in santos. But Pampanga santeros were no less masterful. The predominance of hardwoods and other trees suitable for carving---like narra, molave, batikuling, and even santol--- spurred our province’s artisans to further the cause of religious art. Betis was, and still is, Pampanga’s woodcarving capital. From Betis emerged several generations of master carvers, among them, the Flores family who still practice their craft alongside the furniture industry, for practical reasons. It is interesting to note that the Don Gregorio Araneta santo collection includes several outstanding santos of Pampango provenance, among them a complete Calvario scene from Bacolor, and some Stations of the Cross “relieves” (relief carving) from Betis. Mr. Araneta had a Kapampangan helper who scoured Pampanga’s decrepit churches and crumbling altars, salvaging santos in the process.

Sasmuan’s Sta. Lucia, Minalin’s Nuestra Señora de la Correa, Angeles City’s Nuestra Señora del Rosario, Masantol’s San Miguel, Baliti’s Virgen de los Remedios and Apalit’s San Pedro Apostol (Apu Iro) are perhaps the more familiar santos in Pampanga churches today. Apu Iro was in the news recently when the century-old ivory icon was nearly engulfed by a flame that razed the building in which it was kept. Just as revered though are the thousands of santos whittled from backyard trees and meant for home devotions, which today are being prized by collectors and cultural activists alike, not just for their religious significance but also for their artistic and cultural value. After hundreds of years, in all their scarred and disfigured beauty, santos are the fullest expressions of a people’s religious conviction, treasured legacies from the days when our faith was more unwavering, more profound.
( 17 August 2002)