Sunday is not exactly the ideal day to go antique-hunting in Ermita---most shops are closed—but since I have not gone to Manila in ages, I decided to go there one hot weekend afternoon, just to take in the sights and sounds of its streets that I have come to miss.
My aimless wandering took me to Mabini,
’s once-upon-a-time antique strip, that now only has a few crappy art galleries and curio shops to show. Surprisingly, Sieva’s Antique Shop past Padre Faura was open, and other than a hideous ivory santa masquerading as an antique on his front window, the crumbling shop yielded nothing. This premiere dealer of the 70s and 80s sure has really fallen on hard times—I peeked inside while he was deep in negotiation with a runner who was showing him some commonplace ceramic plates. On his near-empty shelf, I could see Coke collectibles, kitsch figurines, coins,postcards, pieces of jewelry, and that’s it. Manila
Across the street, Nelly Enriquez’s shop has also been wiped clean due to the renovation of the building. There used to be a next door art gallery that had a stock of vintage paintings that I often checked out; now that’s gone too.
At Padre Faura Shopping Mall, I had more luck. The shop of this Englishman dealer who has made
his home was open, so I snuck in to check the gazillion items there, arranged haphazardly, new, old, vintage, ethnic, moderne, etc. etc. In the end, I picked a strand of old colored beads. Floy Quintos’ Deus was closed but thank God for glass panelling! I peered through and I could make out some ivory images, a San Roque, I think. It was really sweltering so I headed next to M. H. del Pilar. Manila
I went farther down the road where I found a row of “antique shops“ fronting a seedy hotel. All the shops were closed, so I could only do window shopping. The shops carried mostly Orientalia--plates, jars, figurines, vases—all screaming 21st century. Others had ethnic stuff, obviously made just yesterday.
When I looked through the glass window of “Maynila Arts & Antiques”, I saw on a table, a naked santo in a virina—it seemed like it was a
, but I could not be sure if it was either ivory or bone. My heart skipped a bit, but all I could do was to get the shop’s contact number posted on the door, take a cab home and wait for Monday. San Jose
The next day, I called up the shop and a pleasant-voiced woman answered my questions regarding the santo. She said it was of ivory and that the price tag was so-and-so thousand, inclusive of the virina. Well, I said, I can’t be too sure about that, I really have to see the piece. The next day, on our lunch break, I made a quick trip back to the M.H. Del Pilar shop to see the santo up close.
It was a
alright, but the carving was a bit folksy--still fine with me. The body, too, looked original to the piece. This is a low-end ivory piece, further evidenced by the base which was carved with shallow details. The face was a mask, and it was stained with some red gunk—hence it was hard to figure out the material. I was convinced that I could do better with this ivory and made an offer. She immediately renegotiated , but since I was so good in playing hard to get, I put her on a cliffhanger and took my leave. San Jose
Usually, I would let myself simmer for a few hours and see if my initial enthusiasm and interest would wane. It did not. Besides, after doing some pencil pushing, I though the price tag was fair enough. Why, even an antique dealer friend I consulted put an estimated value of about 35-40K for the whole ensemble.
I made a final attempt to renegotiate, but the dealer was firm. So I tried again for a value-added service: can she make a FREE delivery to my office? The answer was a resounding yes. A deal was struck and in two hours, she had my moolah, and I had my San Jose—complete with a base, a virina and a bonus—his tattered embroidered vestments wrapped in plastic.
When I got home, the first thing I did was to clean the defaced santo’s head that was heavily stained. I used everything from cotton buds to a scraping knife, Windex and dishwashing liquid to clean the head, which revealed the material to be—ivory! And the face wasn’t as folk-looking as I expected it to be.
I did some minor touch-ups to the santo body, even painting on sandals on the wooden feet. I had some old santo vestments left over from my projects, so I thought of dressing up my
. The violet robe was from an old tabletop Dolorosa and the yellow cape was from a San Jose , so the result was not exactly pleasing (the vestment was too short). The santo was thus immediately whisked off to my restorer, Dr. Raffy Lopez. San Juan
Raffy confirmed that the piece was indeed, ivory, and that I was lucky to get this santo that, though not perfect, was relatively complete. After choosing the colors of the vestments, I left the santo with him, twiddled my thumbs and waited for two and a half weeks. Then, it was time to go pick up my San Jose, and the final outcome looked like this:
My budget-friendly, newly restored ivory santo looked more expensive and presentable indeed. Everything was retained--from the base that had been given a new gilt, the metal halo, to the vestment embroidery that faithfully copied the original design. A few embroidery patches were salvaged for re-use. A flowered staff and a wig were the only other additions to complete this San Jose.