348. Sorrowful No More: AN ANTIQUE MATER DOLOROSA, REMADE.

MATER DOLOROSA, COMPLETED

This Mater Dolorosa, made of antique ivory parts, is without doubt, my favorite because of its personal meaning to me. I was drawn to the Sorrowful Mother at the time my father was battling a fatal disease in 1998. When he passed away, I made a vow to acquire a Dolorosa image to be processed in our town during the Holy Week, in gratitude for his painless, peaceful transition.  I managed to find a vintage processional Dolorosa shortly after, and began a family tradition of participating in the annual Semana Santa prusisyons of our town. 

ALL WE HAD WAS AN IVORY HEAD...

...AS THE RESTORATION BEGAN.

I also wanted a version that we could venerate at home, perhaps an antique ivory piece, but by the early 2000s, complete, tabletop ivory images were becoming scarcer, and therefore pricier. I started searching for sacred images online—it was something novel at that time—so I was surprised to find an ebay Philippines site that had a few sellers of old items and collectibles. 

ANTIQUE HANDS WERE SERENDIPITOUS FINDS.

THE HEAD ACQUIRED A CARVED TORSO

It was there that I met a local dealer, who turned out to be the brother of an officemate!. When I asked him offline to be on the lookout for an  ivory Dolorosa, he sent a private message to tell me, that he in fact has a solid ivory Dolorosa head. When I got hold of the picture, I was stunned, because it was an antique ivory head some three inches long, exquisitely carved, with open mouth, complete with glass eyes, complete with tiny crystla teardrop. It was of very high quality ivory, creamy white in color, without cracks and flaws. Unfortunately, that was all that he had—the clasped hands are missing, and so is the body, the base (peana), and accessories, right down to lost vestments, metal accessories and wig. 

ALL-NEW METAL AUREOLA

THE DOLOROSA ON HER PEANA

I just could not pass up this ivory head, so I got it and kept it in a velvet pouch for a year or so, before I finally took it to my restorer, Dr. Raffy Lopez. One look, and he confirmed that I, indeed, made a good decision as the ivory was excellent in all aspects. His only problem were the missing pair of ivory hands, as it’s almost impossible to find old parts of appropriate size. I had no choice but to settle for new replacement  ivory hands.

FINELY CARVED FACE REVEALS HER GRIEF

SALVAGED EMBROIDERY ON HER VESTMENT

 So I left the Dolorosa head with Dr. Lopez, not even bothering to ask for a timeline, as I don’t have one too. But two weeks later, he was on the phone again, sharing me about his excitement of finding a a pair of ivory hands—clasped hands—perfectly fitting the size of my Dolorosa. I can’t ask for better news! 

DETAIL OF THE FLORAL EMBROIDERY

BACK VIEW OF THE CAPE

With my full trust in Dr. Lopez, I just left him to his own devices—although he would contact me once in a while to confer about my personal choices—do I like her in pure black or maroon and blue? Do I prefer a floral peaña? He suggested to do away with the wig as she will be wearing a wimple, anyway. And he also recommended satin fabrics. 

THE COMPLETED IMAGE IS 22 INCHES TALL

MATER DOLOROSA, IN HER URNA

While Dr. Lopez was restoring and completing the Dolorosa, I was also briefing a local carver for a customized urna in which to house my Dolorosa. Based on the completed height of the image (about 22 inches tall), I commissioned a Betis artisan to copy a wooden urna and its design, I found in an online antique site. He had to do it twice—because the first one he did was box shaped; I wanted the front to have 3 panels of glass, which will make it trapezoidal.

 

MATER DOLOROSA, IN HER URNA.

After three months, the antique Dolorosa head had a bastidor body, jointed arms, fully embroidered vestments, and a peana with  calado design. It was now a complete image, standing 22 inches tall, beautifully dressed on her gilded base. Inside her carved urna, the Dolorosa reposes, still sad but stunning. Only her new caretaker is sorrowful no more.

347. SAN ISIDRO AND HIS MILK BOX URNA

One of the most quaint folk art pieces I acquired just has to be this tiny San Isidro Labrador from Bohol, that was matched with a hand-made wooden urna, fashioned from an old wooden milk crate.

SAN ISIDRO LABRADOR BOHOL SANTO, 

The century-old San Isidro—a shade over 5 inches, excluding the base—is a typical Bohol piece with some of its brilliant polychromy still intact, all iconographically correct. He wears a green cape over a yellow tunic, with his boots on. He has missing hands, which once held a spade. 

The santo stands a mere 5+ inches tall

Despite the small rectangular base, there is a space once occupied by an angel plowing with a cow. The figure of the kneeling landlord is an optional element of the tableau, and he was left out in this representation, understandably because of the small dimension of the piece. 

Ordinarily, Bohol pieces were enshrined in folk urnas of the same qualities as the santo---small, brightly polychromed wooden altars embellished with relief carvings, raised by stair-shaped bases. This San Isidro, however, was found being displayed in an antique shop in a simple wooden urna, which stylistically does not match the Bohol style, but fits the santo’s size perfectly.

Wooden urna, handcrafted from milk crate

The small urna was ingeniously handcrafted from a milk crate—and the brand name can be found at the bottom of the urna to hide it—“Milkmaid Brand, Sweetened Condensed Milk". 

Milkmaid was an imported milk product, and it was first launched in the Philippines in the 1920s. By the 1930s, it was a successful brand, popularly known as “Marca Señorita”, because of the milkmaid brand character. 

Old Milkmaid ad, 1929

It was heavily advertised and promoted, and in 1929, Milkmaid even sponsored the search for the healthiest and cutest babies of the Philippines.

The urna itself, though simple in its creation, has many charming details. The “pediment’ is flanked by two “fence peg” spires. The double doors are hinged with wires, which were also used to make the latch. The boxy structure was attached to a 3-step stair base. 

 Its coating of white gesso or paint are still visible on the surface. Similar urnas made from commercial wooden crates were usually embellished with painted designs to make up for their plainness, but this example has no traces of color that I can see. In any case, San Isidro seems to be happy in his simple abode—after all, as a humble farmer-saint, he is used to a much harsher environment!

346. FROM JOHN DOE TO ST. JOHN: An Antique Bone Santo Transformation Story

A BONE TO PICK. A nameless santo found in Ermita

I only remember hazy details of how I got this santo with head and hands made of bone. What I can only recall was that, I got this from one of the dealers in Ermita perhaps in the 1990s, when I started becoming drawn to ivories which I could not afford. 

Nobody knew who he was, as it was without clothes, metal accessories, wig and base that may have otherwise given us clues to his identity. Because it was affordably priced, I purchased this nameless santo and became a sort of a stand-in piece, as in my mind, it was the next best thing to owning a more valuable ivory. 

The antique male santo has quite a young, but expression-less face. It looks like it had been carved from cattle bone—square-jawed, with pronounced cheeks, but a finely detailed nose. There is a certain flatness to the carving, perhaps because bone tends to be brittle. 

Even with his painted features, he look so stoic, with lips pursed. He stares with bulging glass eyes and a blank gaze, The fingers are unremarkable, carved almost “tinidor-style”, with open palms. The bone head (a half-mask, actually) and hands are assembled on a wooden body with the usual jointed arms.

The closest santo that vaguely fills this male santo type is San Juan, the young apostle and apostle.  His most common iconography shows him holding a quill and a book—but this santo’s hands just jut straight out from his wooden arms. 

And so I decided  San Juan Evangelista he shall be.  Creating the look was my favorite ivory restorer, Dr. Raffy Lopez, who salvaged old embroidery from his “baul” of santo supplies, and incorporated them with new embroidery he designed on green and maroon satin. He also provided his “peaña” or gilded base, plus his wig. 

I contributed the paragua-style halo (which is a bit big!), and pukpok artisan gave me a new, silver-plated quill pen, which looked more like a sword than a feather quill. There was no way of having the right hand with an open palm hold it, so I just secured the pen with putty.  

FROM JOHN DOE TO ST. JOHN

After more than 25 years, still have this antique bone santo, even if, year after year, I keep telling myself to dispose it. The reason probably why I am hesitant to let it go is because of the interesting back story attached to the piece---of how a John Doe santo became a John the Evangelist santo!