254. MARFIL: Philippine Religious Ivory Carvings, part 2

STO. NIÑO, Head and hands of ivory, mounted on wooden body. Garbed investment embroidered with gold thread. 19^th c. Ht. 30 cm. Gopiao Collection.

By Jose Mari P. Treñas

Photography by  Patrick Uy

Philippine Religious Ivory Carvings.

Excavations show fossils of elephants and tusk-bearing relatives of elephants in various Philippine sites (Cagayan Valley, Pangasinan, Panay, Manila and Mindanao.) A Spanish Augustinian memo in 1573 mentions elephants in Sulu. Sixteenth and 17^th century Spanish accounts also state that ivory (marfil) was fashioned by the Filipinos into religious statuary, jewelry and weapon handles. Still the existence of a thriving ivory carving tradition before the Spaniards came cannot be ascertained. What is indisputable is that the earliest religious ivory carvings were commissioned by the Spanish friars initially from immigrant carvers from Southeastern China.

SANTO NIÑO, Solid ivory figure, arms carved separately. Gold crowns, traces of gilding on the hair. Glass eyes, 19^th c., Ht. 20 cm. Treñas Collection.

The most intriguing question is whether these were carved exclusively by the Chinese (which was the dogma upheld until fairly recently) or whether this craft passed on to Filipinos early on. Gatbonton initially expressed a theory about a “local” style in her 1982 catalogue, Imagery in Ivory for the ivory exhibit of the Intramuros Administration. The theory that Filipinos also carved ivory was again ventured by Gatbonton rather tentatively in her book published by the Intramuros Administration in 1983, entitled Philippine Religious Carvings in Ivory, when she states that, “We may reasonably assume that Filipino carvers, we working alongside the Chinese.” This assertion Gatbonton repeats more unequivocably in her article for Arts of Asia also published in 1983—but here she goes on a limb. She breaks the paradigm—she states that based on the collection gathered by the Intramuros Administration, it was possible to reassess the general belief that Chinese carvers were responsible for all the ivory carvings originating from the Philippines.

MADONNA AND CHILD. Solid ivory figure with gold leaf decorations; gold crowns and gold rostrillos (facial aureole). 18thc., Ht. 26 cm. Treñas Collection

She cites two reasons: 1. The Filipino carver’s attitude towards the theme of Crucifixion where Christ is the passive victim); 2. The Filipino carver’s tendency to carve for frontal effect.

This theory was actively pursued by Jose. Although it is not clear when Filipinos started to carve ivory santos, by the 1730s, the Spanish missionaries were praising the artistic skills of indios and mestizos. In 1729, the Archbishop of Manila states that in connection with a proposed deportation of the Chinese, the natives were ready to take over all crafts. In 1738, Fr. Pedro Murillo Velarde S.J. wrote that the Filipinos were ‘exceedingly clever in handiwork—good carvers, gilders and carpenters.” Significantly, Jose notes that the item ‘sculptor’ does not appear in the lists of Chinese professions in 1689, 1700 or 1745. All in all, historical evidence shows that the Chinese were absent from the Philippines for long periods of time. The answer to this question may not be definitive, but the paradigm has been broken.

SANTO NIÑO. Head, hands, feet of ivory mounted on wooden body. Garbed in vestment embroidered with gold thread,, silver crown,m Late 18th  cm., Ht. 39 cm.m Gopiao Collection.

Conclusion

While more research and documentation have to be done, significant strides have been made on the recognition of Philippine ivories. The Spanish scholar and writer, Margarita Estella Marcos, has traced a number of Philippine ivory carvings now in private collections. Jose enumerates some of these pieces: a Santo Cristo documented in 1585 in the Church of the Magdalena in Sevilla, a number of pieces given by Bishop Antonio Paino to the Church of Sta. Maria in Valladolid in 1630 and 1660, a plaque depicting the Crucifixion dated between 1694 in the Church of Vera Cruz in Salamanca, a San Miguel and San Juan Bautista dated between 1695 and 1712 in the Cathedral of Badajoz, a Divino Pastor dated 1699 in the Castle of the Family of San Francisco Javier in Navarra, a Cristo de los Peligros which arrived in Spain in 1715 and is now enshrined in the Parish of Belmonte in Cuenca.

PURISIMA CONCEPCION, Solid ivory figure. Gold ornaments, Late 18th  c., Ht. 27 cm., Maralit Collection.

In 1770, a dozen ivory figures (among them, the Four Evangelists, a Nuestra Señora de la Asuncion and the Four Doctors of the Church) were documented to have arrived in Mexico from the Philippines. The Museo Oriental in Valladolid exhibits many ivory carvings of Philippine provenance.

More and more, Philippine ivory carvings are emerging from the shadow of European ivories. Although there were early condescending references to the Philippine pieces as hybrid ivories with pious Oriental expressions, Western oses and agitated draperies, this has changed. These pieces, the result of a unique Filipino sensibility utilizing European models and Chinese tecniques, are now recognized as among the most beautiful religious ivory carvings produced during this period.

253. MARFIL: Philippine Religious Ivory Carvings, part 1

PURISIMA CONCEPCION, Solid ivory figure with hands carved separately. Gold leaf decoration. Gold ornaments. 19^th c., Ht: 21.5 cm., Gopiao Collection

By Jose Mari P. Treñas            Photography by  Patrick Uy

Long dismissed as crude and naïve expressions of alien faith, Philippine religious carvings in ivory are being seen in a new light. Exquisite examples of documented Philippine provenance in Europe and Mexico, beautiful pieces in the Intramuros Administration and the occasional rare item that still comes into the market, have debunked the conventional wisdom about Philippine ivories and have made historians and scholars rethink and reassess the same.

NIÑO DORMIDO, Ivory head, hands and feet mounted on wooden body. Garbed in vestment embroidered with gold thread. 19^th c., Lebgth: 20 cm., Maralit Collection.

I first became interested in Philippine ivory when I was twelve. My family would troop over regularly to my lola’s house for Sunday lunch and while everybody would lazily linger over coffee and dessert, I would politely leave the dining table to sneak to the altar in my lola’s room. There I would seek out two ivory heads hidden in the lower drawer. Barely two inches in size, they were so cool to my touch. The color was so fleshlike, the glass eyes staring enigmatically ahead and the lips carved into hieratic smiles. Even the cracks that randomly ran from the forehead down the neck had their own strange beauty. I think my lolal noticed my fascination, for the two heads were placed in my pocket to take home. Although I did not buy my first ivory until two years ago, I was hooked. It was not the first.

SANTO NIÑO, Solid ivory figure. Silver ornaments, 19^th c., Ht.: 27 cm, Maralit Collection.

In his introductory essay to the book, Masterpieces of Ivory from the Walters Art Gallery, which contains examples of Philippine ivory carvings bought in such diverse places as Venice and Paris, Richard Randall Jr. writes that, “throughout history, ivory has always been regarded as a rare and beautifuol substance, fit for gods and kings.” A passage in the Book of Kings which Randall quotes reads, “Once in three years comes the navy of Tharshish, bringing gold and silver and ivory, apes and peacocks.” Randall cites that many kings have sat on thrones made of ivory, Solomon among the first. A 17th  century ivory throne made for one of the kings of Denmark still exists in the Rosenberg Castle in Copenhagen.

NIÑO DORMIDO, Solid ivory body with glass eyes. 19^th c., Length: 18 cm., Maralit Collection.

The trade in ivory was mentioned in the Bible, both in the Book of Kings and Ezekiel. This has been subsequently confirmed by archaeological data. In Ezekiel, it is said that the men of Dedan on the Red Sea, “brought you for a present horns of ivory.” Aden, at the foot of the Red Sea, was the most active trading post of ivory when Marco Polo wrote about his travels in the 13th century. The route then started from East Africa to Zanzibar, then to Aden, up to the Red Sea to Egypt and overland to the Mediterranean. This route was pretty much the same in the 19th century, when ivory was shipped from Zanzibar through the Suez Canal and on to London and Antwerp.

What is Ivory?

In his excellent catalogue for the 19991 Philippine Exhibit of religious ivory carvings held at Pasadena’s Pacific Asia Museum, Regalado Jose Jr. writes that, “Today, the term for ivory has come to include material with similar qualities in varying degrees, obtained from the teeth or tusks of other animals such as the walrus, narwhal, sea cow, and hippopotamus.” However, only the tusk of the elephant which can reach 8 feet in length and weigh as much as 200 pounds is regarded as “true ivory.”

Jose further classifies elephant ivory into its three main sources: Fossil ivory, African ivory and Oriental ivory. Although the Philippines was closer to the sources of ivory (India. Indonesia, Burma, Sri Lanka, Malaysia and Borneo) , the ivory used in Philippine religious carvings  was  African. Esperanza Gatbonton, in her article, “An Introduction to Philippine Colonial Carvings in Ivory” printed in the July-August 1983 issue of the Arts of Asia points out that the large scale commerce in ivory was undertaken by the Portuguese in 1509. The Portuguese then held sway in the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf. They conquered Goa in 1510, Malacca in 1511. The result was a monopoly in ivory. These Portuguese vessels  would sail with the southeast monsoon and unload their cargo in Manila.

55. FURTHER NOTES ON PHILIPPINE SANTOS, part II

The first religious image mentioned in Philippine history is the Sto. Niño de Cebu. Carved in Flanders (then a Spanish possession) and dressed in velvet cloak and plumed hat, a hand raised in benediction and the other carrying an orb, the image attracted Juana, Datu Humabon’s wife; Pigafetta therefore gave it to her. This example of early Filipino devotion to the Niño before long popularized carvings in his likeness. In 1590, Domingo de Salazar, the first Archbishop of Manila, wrote to King Philip II of ivory carvings of the Child Jesus being carved in Manila—so excellently as to approximate in quality the Flemish originals. These first examples were, of course, carved by Chinese artisans; and they gave rise to characteristic traits which became incorporated in later Philippine iconography. For instance, the fleshy, rotund thighs of the Sto. Niño; and the neck of most saints ringed with the folds; and eyes shaded by heavy lids. These characteristics seem more common in ivory images, but even wood carvings (particularly of the early period) exhibit these traits.

From the indio background, the most telling contribution to santo sculpture is the somewhat disproportional physiognomy and a tendency to flatness. For when the artisans conceives of his sculpture as a free-standing object in the round, he typically pays only minimal attention to its back profile. The reason for this, of course, is that Philippine ornamental carvings in their traditional usage—carved on the surfaces of objects—used a flat perspective. The frontal directness of objects was always the primary concern of the craftsman. One notices this even in the bulul—the only representation of our animist past which survived the fervor of the early missionaries. The older craftsmen often had no idea of using clothing to enhance the proportion of the body in the artistic sense. In later sculptures, the slight turn of a leg proffered forward sometimes resulted in a fuller carving of the lower garment; an arm lifted in supplication may have a ripple of creases on the sleeve.

It’s a pity—but perhaps unavoidable—that much of the estofado coating applied to the garments of saints has been lost. Our hot, humid climate causes it to flake off. Apart from natural causes, there was the ritual habit of repainting images every so often. The fact that beautiful estofado decoration would be covered seldom stopped the devotee from giving an old image a new coat of paint. It is the ritual intention that was important—not the aesthetic value. For these images were above all intimately bound to everyday life—gaining meaning and value as they relate to the owner n ritual terms. Estofado is the technique of decorating the garments of images. Gesso or its equivalent in thick putty-like plaster is used to prime the body of the statue. In the Spanish tradition, a coat of goldleaf was first applied to the body of the sculpture—followed by a thin coat of paint through which we can barely see the gold shimmer. Floral patterns were then incised on this coating, reinforced with traditional decorative elements painted on to emphasize the sgrafitto pattern. This ornamental technique must have been very attractive to the colonial artisan, for it was rather similar to that of his own accustomed carving technique. And largely because the Filipino artisan was able to impart something of his own character to the santos he carved, his religious imagery gained distinctive marks. Unlearned though he may have been in the manner of Europeans, he gamely produced his own lively interpretation of the heavenly hierarchy. God and His saints must have had many good laughs over their sometimes-impious representations in Filipino colonial iconography: bulging eyes, squat figures, sensuous lips—and expressions that had never before crossed the faces of Christian saints. Informal statues meant for homes display the wider variety of stylistic differences. For one thing, the craftsman had to deal with clients of varying tastes and standards. One imagines that the peninsulares would have wanted in their home altars nothing less than those images grandiosely enshrined in church altars, or seen in the latest books and prints brought over by the Acapulco galleons. Upwardly mobile principales and mestizos must have also vied with one another to secure the best carvers and the best type of wood for their own altar images.

But for the majority of Filipino converts, the so-called popular style—more crude, more primitive, more naively conceived—sufficed. Surprisingly, it is in santos of this category that the scholar can measure the faith of the early converts. For here, freed from the hierarchial demands, the folk fashioned their saints in their own image. It is here, too, that one finds many statues vaguely reminiscent of the likha and anito. Santos of the popular style often tell us too, even of the changing costumes of the colonial period. The patron of San Isidro normally portrayed as a Castillian genteman was gradually replaced by indios, mestizos, and chinos. San isidro Labrador—so close to peasant affection—is often carved as dressed in the loose camisa worn by farmers.

Generally, all images were first treated with gesso to fill in the grain of wood and to achieve a smooth finish. The sculpture was then primed with red or yellow paint, before being polychromed in the standard colors assigned to specific saints. The faces of images are often coated with several layers of paint that approximate the skin tone. This process is known as encarnado. Ultra-realism became the vogue in the 18th century. Glass eyes, wigs, jewels and false eyelashes were introduced into santo sculpture. Images were dressed in velvet and the finest materials possible. Head and hand were now usually attached to a sketchy frame, with sockets supported by wooden legs. In the bastidor type, head and hands mounted and the body frame heavily padded to produce a conical saint. In this style, legs were no longer carved nor detailed. Emphasis shifted to the ornamental appearance of the object: the sculptural form disappears altogether.

In the absence of written records, dating santos is at best an educated guess. It is much easier to arrive at generalities regarding provenance. For instance, santos from the Bicol region tend to be carved from heavy wood. The figures are always massive proportion, well-carved with bases being frequently adorned with angels (if the subject happens to be the Blessed Virgin) and brilliantly colored. Popular subjects for Bicol carvers are San Antonio de Padua and the Pieta. From Cebu came the bell-shaped, heavy images of the Virgin with ivory heads and pegged-on wigs. Iloilo sculpture tends to be on the flattish side, with angular shoulders. Most popular santos from this province are mounted on crudely-made bases.

Samar has a prevalence of santos carved in light to medium-hard wood, which are tall (like the Pangasinan images) but flat, with angular shoulders and head. One characteristic of the Samar San Roque is a wound located on the right rather than on the left thigh, as it should not be in orthodox iconography. Bohol Virgins are generally squat figures slightly hunched at the shoulder, with pinched waists. The hair is straight and shapeless, or else falls in separate strands at the back. The face has a rather piquant expression. Bases are octagonal in shape instead of the usual globe, which is standard in the representation of the Inmaculada. Negros Virgins are crowned with nondescript faces. Bold floral designs invariably liven the central panel of their garments.

Whatever data we have today are still not enough to afford us a keener knowledge of the styles generated at a particular time in a specific locality. Historical records are so scarce that it is next to impossible to formulate an authoritative overview. It will be, as I have mentioned earlier, at best an educated guess, and for want of information, riddled with gaps. Thus, I appeal to dealers and collectors to join hands in amassing information in a common archive—the ADAP—where all the items that pass through their hands are photographed, given a description with additional information regarding source and provenance, and, possibly, the name o the foreign buyer. Such information will contribute to the collection of knowledge that is essential to a deeper and cultured understanding of this art form, our most vital link to discovery of the Filipino psyche.

54. FURTHER NOTES ON PHILIPPINE SANTOS, part I

(A lecture delivered on Jan. 1982 at the Philippine Plaza Hotel. Originally published in The Manila Arts & Antiques Exhibition Program, Sept. 13-10, 1982)

By Esperanza B. Gatbonton
Santo photos courtesy of Tony Martino

First of all, I would like to thank the Antique Dealers’ Association for asking me to address this distinguished group of collectors and connoisseurs of Philippine artifacts. Second, I wish to commend the Association for its efforts to upgrade the Philippine antique trade. Simply by ensuring that all items put on sale are genuine, and (one hopes) also reasonably priced, you will be ding a great deal to develop buyer’s confidence and enlarge your national market.


The growth of the antique market in recent years has brought to light many rare and valuable pieces that testify to the wealth and variety of our cultural heritage. It is a pity that a great number of these artifacts—which should have remained here—have disappeared abroad by means of the antique trade.

Having said that, I wish to acknowledge that many dealers have tried—do try—to offer outstanding art objects they turn up to various institutions in the country that have to do with the preservation of national treasures.

The Intramuros Administration—where I work—has benefited a great deal from this thoughtfulness of some art dealers. Without your help, many more rare and beautiful pieces would have passed on to private or foreign collectors, depriving our public at large the chance of ever seeing them.

Perhaps, the Association can go a step further and set up a library of its own—which could compile pictures and other data of art objects sold to foreigners, or otherwise shipped abroad. This will at least preserve records of provenance and style—and help future scholarship on Philippine antiquities.

The study of our religious carvings or santos have suffered greatly from this lack of historical record. For instance, until recent times, people widely supposed that most of our ivory carvings had come from Mexico or Spain; and that those found here were all carved by Chinese craftsmen. It had taken the work of a scholar and researcher in Spain—working the span of over a decade—to call our attention to the significant number of ivory carvings in Spain, Mexico, and other European museums that are of Philippine provenance. Whether these were carved by Filipinos or Chinese is another story we have yet to verify.

The indio tradition and culture was oriented towards ornamentation. Like all other ‘primitive’ societies, the indio drew inspiration from his surroundings and found an effective means of reaching out to his largely unknown, somewhat formless universe by resorting to symbolical representation. He embellished most objects of daily life—transforming ordinary objects and usages into more than purely functional artifacts. Being an animist, his representations of his gods recalled the symbolical mysteries to which his mind was drawn.


These representations—whether carved on the surfaces of tools, woven into cloth, tattooed on the skin, or engraved on jewelry—created a strong tradition which formed the colonial sculptors’ artistic background. The representations of anitos or likha were crudely carved—crude in the sense that the sculptor made no attempt to delineate, but only to represent, the elemental form of things he could not see, yet intuitively recognized as real.

How does one explain why all people in their beginnings choose to represent objects in a manner that we can only call “crude”? The first Spanish settlers in the islands expressed great horror on seeing these idols—which they regarded as monstrosities and instruments of the devil. The early missionaries undoubtedly had a fine time seeking them out from the homes of their parishioners, and condemning them to the bonfire.

Much has been said about the syncretic character of Philippine Catholicism; but the fact remains that at least in the beginnings of Christianity in the archipelago, dislocated Filipino sensibilities groping for direction simply made the transfer from Bathala to Dios—from anito to santo. And once unsophisticated minds saw the parallelism between Catholicism and their own beliefs, they proceeded with characteristic fervor to Philippinize the new religion.

To be sure, the transition did not come about without some soul-wracking agonies. Nicely-worded edicts from Philip II assuaged some doubts; and we must not discount the dedication and genuine saintliness of many of the early missionaries.


As a result, practically all the lowlanders and inhabitants of the known riverways were quickly Christianized, and churches were built all over the archipelago. By 1586, the Augustinians alone had 27 missions scattered from the Ilocos to Cebu and Panay. By the 17th century, stone churches were being built, and elaborate retablos and altars carved to decorate them.

The Jesuit Antonio Sedeño, who had much to do with the first buildings in stone, was also responsible for the earliest religious paintings done toward the end of the sixteenth century. He sought migrant Chinese artisans already familiar with the brush and color, and taught them how to paint pictures of the Blessed Mother. These first icons Sedeño earnestly distributed to his friends for use in churches and homes.