343. NAZARENO OF THE DUMPSTER : Restoration Extreme

NAZARENO OF QUIAPO, AFTER ITS RESTORATION.

Since I retired, I have gone easy on buying old, slightly-flawed santos for restoration. I can sense that my santo-mania have subsided a bit, which is good, but not my compulsion for taking on santo projects. I know a good challenge when I see one.

THE VINTAGE NAZARENO, AS FOUND.

Take this dismembered Nazareno for instance, depicting the Black Nazarene of Quiapo.. I had gone to a neighborhood garage sale where I bought an antique filing cabinet. As I was talking to the homeowner, I noticed he was holding a plastic bag that contain some wooden santo body parts.

ALL WRAPPED UP FOR THE TRASH,

I knew it was a vintage Nazareno, the types that were commercially sold, perhaps, in front of churches back in the 1950s and 60s. When I asked to take a look, he said, “Oh, this is a santo that came from an altar that I already sold. It’s been broken in pieces, damaged beyond repair, so that’s why I am throwing it out,”.

“Can I have it?”, I asked. “I’ll save you a trip to the garbage dump”.

NAZARENO PARTS, cleaned and sorted.

So not only did I take the cabinet home, but also a dis-assembled naked, wigless Nazareno without a base and feet. The torso had separated from the rest of his body, and the cross, just like the figure’s fingers, was broken. The head had miraculously survived, made of escayola, typical of mass-produced midcentury Nazarenos. Likewise, the Nazareno’s tin potencias and crown of thorns were intact.

NAZARENO PARTS, glued and assembled.

When I finally had the chance to clean and assemble the pieces, I was surprised that about 90% of the figure were still there, albeit in horrible condition. I knew this Nazareno can be salvaged, but I don’t think I can do it alone, so I took it to the nearby House of Saints, whose manager, Mr. Regie Honrada is a formidable collector of images himself.

RECONSTRUCTED HEAD, BODY & CROSS

I think only he could understand why on earth I would want to restore a santo with that seemingly-hopeless condition. So, he agreed to do a sympathetic restoration of the piece to retain its integrity as an antique.

STAGING THE RECONSTRUCTED SANTO

When I came back for it after a month, Regie had added the Nazareno’s missing feet, carved a new left arm as the damaged part was beyond repair. The head and its features had also been repainted and reglued to the body. The Nazareno now rests on a plain solid wooden base, stained and varnished.

SALVAGED VESTMENTS, used in restoration.

The most wonderful part was that, Regie did not charge me a centavo for the work he did, he was just glad to help. As for Jesus’s vestments, I brought along some old, embroidered santo robes that I saved from my other restoration projects.

IN YELLOW VESTMENTS, later re-dyed,

Unfortunately, the robe and the cape were of faded yellow satin, once worn by an ivory santo. When vestment-maker Paul Candaza attempted to dress the Nazareno using them, they actually fit, but the color was really not appropriate.

OLD SANTO ABACA WIG, recurled.

So what I did was to dye the robe maroon red, using good old fashion “jobus” powder. I did the same for a small abaca wig, dying it black and re-curling it using toothpick as rollers. I did away with the cape and after vesting the image and making minor adjustments, the result was this—

Before & After PHOTOS, NAZARENO RESTORATION

I thought this unusual Nazareno restoration project was quite a success. From a santo destined for the trash, it has now become a treasure, fit to grace any altar of any home.

NAZARENO, with re-dyed maroon vestments.

NAZARENO, in re-dyed maroon vetsment.

NTRO. PADRE JESUS NAZARENO, restored

MANY THANKS TO: Mr. Reggie Honrada of House of Saints, Mr. Paul Candaza

298. ANTIPOLO, by Ileana Maramag

People make yearly pilgrimage to this Rizal town to pay homage to centuries-old Brown Madonna.

By Ileana Maramagpublished in The Sunday Times Magazine, 20 May 1962.

Still drawing a steady stream of pilgrims at this time of year is Antipolo, the small hilly town in Rizal province made famous as the shrine of the centuries-old brown Madonna as Our Lady of Peace and Good Voyage.

Antipolo, however, is not what it used to be. In the olden days, old folks like to recall, the place was no more than an isolated hamlet that could only be reached by carretela or cascos, via one of the Pasig River’s tributaries that wends its way to several Rizal towns. Thus, pilgrimages to the Virgin of Antipolo in those days were more hazardous and involved no small amount of sacrifice.Often enough, the pilgrims had ti hike the slippery trails of the region or cross the difficult terrain in man-borne hammocks. Aisde from this, the pilgrimages were made more festive by the bright parasols, colorful balintawaks and camisas de chino worn by the pilgrims, Today, the practice has all but disappeared; Antipolo is easy to reach via paved highways and modern-day pilgrims make the Maytime trek in buses or drive down the 28 km. road to Antipolo in snazzy cars,

Source: Sunday Times Magazine, May 1962

From Manila, it takes no more than 45 minutes to reach the town proper, and once ed there, pilgrims converge at the modern church which is easily Antipolo’s biggest landmark. Once inside, one discovers that the age-old image of Our Lady of peace and Good Voyage is enshrined in a special niche atop the main altar.

Source: Sunday Times Magazine, May 1962

Annually, on May 1^st, by tradition, the Virgin is borne in solemn procession to an improvised altar atop Pinagmisahan Hill, where a mass is said to commemorate the first Mass celebrate by the early Spanish missionaries on the same hill. Devotees also mark the feast of Antipolo Virgin every first Tuesday of May.

Early historians report that the image was first brought to Manila from Mexico on June 29, 1626 by the then newly-appointed Governor General Juan Niño de Tabora to isnure the safe voyage of the galleons against pirates and typhoons.

No one can tell exactly how the Virgin became enshrined in the town of Antipolo. There are two versions. One reports the image was taken to the Rizal town by the Governor general and Archbishop and crowned as Nuestra Señora de la Paz y Buen Viaje. Another account says the statue disappeared and was found perched atop an antipolo tree, on the same spot where the Antipolo church now stands.

Another legend tells of how the Virgin of Antipolo acquired its dark color. The story goes that during the 1639 Chinese Rebellion (which include Rizal and  Laguna towns), the Chinese burned the statue but somehow the image miraculously remained unscathed. Instead, the carving turned black and has retained its dark hue through the centuries.

When the Japanese commandeered the old Antipolo church and used it as their garrison during the last war, devotees smuggled the image, buried it in a drum, and later transported it to the Quiapo Church where it was enshrined until after the Liberation.