294. VIRGEN DE GUADALUPE: From an Image on a Tilma to a Sculpted Santa

VIRGEN DE GUADALUPE, from the workshop of renown
Kapampangan carver, Nick Lugue, 2002

The apparitions of Our Lady of Guadalupe to a Catholic convert, Juan Diego, an Aztec Indian of Mexico, began in Tepeyac Hill in 1531. There, the 57-year old Juan was told by the Lady to inform the Bishop what he has seen.  Juan Diego succeeded only in talking to the Bishop on his second visit; in turn, the Bishop advised the native to ask the Lady for a sign to prove that she was indeed Mary. In Her next apparition.the Lady asked him to gather roses growing on top of Tepeyac Hill, which Juan Diego collected and wrapped in his tilma, a cape made of cactus fiber.

After the Lady arranged the roses, she sent back Juan Diego to the Bishop. Appearing before the religious leader, Juan Diego let fall of the roses wrapped with the tilma. But it was not the blooms that stunned the Bishop, for there,impressed on the tilma, was the picture of the Blessed Mother—just as the native described Her.

Upon his return to the village, Juan Diego was surprised to find a sick uncle cured, who told him of his meeting with a young woman bathed in soft light. This Lady told him She had sent his nephew to see the Bishop with a picture of herself.  She then told Juan Diego’s uncle that she and the image be called “Sta. Maria de Guadalupe”. It was clear that She was one and the same woman--the Blessed Virgin--seen by both Juan and his uncle, the same one whose likeness was now on the tilma.

Thus began the spread of the worldwide devotion to the Virgin of Guadalupe. The devotion is centered on the tilma with the miraculous imprint of the Virgin’s image that shows no sign of being painted or sketched. It is enshrined in the basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which has become the most popular religious pilgrimage site in the Western Hemisphere.

For centuries, attempts have been made to replicate the image sculpturally—and it has always been a challenge to represent the image tri-dimensionally, as it has quite a complex iconography.

The Lady stands upon a crescent moon, in reference to the woman of Rev. 12:1 who has symbolically the "moon under her feet",  a symbol of her perpetual purity. An angel supports her,  a testament to her royalty. The Lady’s mantle is blue-green or turquoise, the color of eternity and immortality. The limbus or gold border of her mantle is another sign of nobility. The stars on her mantle are indicative of her supernatural character and her personage as  the Queen of Heaven. They are the pre-dawn stars of the winter solstice that appeared on the morning of 12 December 1531.

The bow, tied high around her waist, is a  symbol of new life. Its  position and the slight swelling of the abdomen indicates that the the Lady is infanticipating,  almost ready to give birth, which would further confirm her identification with the woman of Rev. 12 who is about to deliver her child. The whole figure is surrounded by a strange light, a mandorla, with scalloped edges.This representation, crafted by award-winning religious sculptor Nick Lugue of San Vicente Apalit, was commissioned by a patron from Batangas, who donated the 4-foot image to a local church where She now reposes.

SOURCES/REFERENCES:

Picture of the Guadalupe Virgin:http://www.patheos.com/blogs/holyrover/2017/05/03/with-the-virgin-of-guadalupe-in-mexico-city/

Pictures from Don Sevilla III, Nick Lugue

125. VIRGEN MILAGROSA: A 'Miraculous' Restoration

I rarely make visits to my oldtime Angeles dealer, whose residence-cum-shop is tucked in one of the narrow side streets of Friendship Ave., near Clark, but when I do, I never fail to bring home a good buy or two. I’ve known this dealer since my interest in santos began in the 1980s, and he used to have a popular shop right on Friendship Ave.

The shop was always filled with Americans back then, mostly dependents and families of U.S. servicemen who populated Clark and its nearby environs. I would see them browse though his store, enthralled by the richness of his merchandise—from Oriental plates, colonial furniture to local arts and crafts and, of course, santos. He enjoyed brisk business all through the 80s and 90s, until Mt. Pinatubo took all that away.

But I remained in touch with my dealer, now grown more hoary, eccentric and sickly. After all, I was a loyal customer, buying regularly what I could afford. What I could not, he would let me take home anyway, to be paid in several affordable installments.

 Four months ago, I met up with him and as always, he opened his doors to me. My visit was really a social call, as I learned that he had been hospitalized again. But he seemed fine enough to ply me with his “new arrivals”, a fresh stock of antiques from Ilocos—all laid out for me to peruse on a table. One look and I knew they were mostly clever reproductions mixed up with a few old santos that were not really up to my liking.

I turned my attention to an old cabinet that contained more stuff—and it was there that I found a santo image, broken in 3 different places. It had no hands, and the feet had been detached from the globe base, which clearly identified the carving as an Immaculate Conception image. The santo was of the manikin type, and it was fortunate that the head was still intact, but loose from the body.

 A close inspection showed that the head was outfitted with glass eyes and was carved in great detail—including neck rings. The face was not exceptionally pretty, a bit roundish, the nose a bit big and the lips, pursed and thin. The arms were threatening to disengage from the body, which was in good condition. A portion of a snake coiled itself around the globe base, partially eaten by termites and missing its stand.

When I expressed my interest to buy this damaged santo, I could sense my dealer’s surprise. He wanted PhP 1,000 for it, but I hemmed and hawed, until we agreed on PhP800. I am sure he was happy to get rid of that santo which seemed beyond repair. The santo in all her sorry state, languished in a shoebox for another two weeks or so until I finally brought it to the Apalit shop of santero Nick Lugue. I had an ivory project with Nick, and I thought I’d throw in the broken santo too, for him to work on, no rush. That time, I had made up my mind to transform it into a Virgen Milagrosa, by whose name our town patron, Our Lady of Grace, was also known.

 Nick carved hands for the santa, added a stand to the globe base, and repaired the snake. The feet were reglued to the base and in a month, I had a 21 inch, completely repaired and repainted Virgin, standing securely on a gilded orb.

Nick had the wonderful sense to keep the original white paint of the santa’s torso, the only part that was undamaged, to serve as proof that this was an antique piece. But Nick did even better—he restored the santa for free, for which I will always remain grateful.

In early November, I finally had the time to bring the restored santa to the shop of Dr. Raffy Lopez. I've always liked Raffy's candor, and as I was still unsure at that time, I asked if my restored santa was worth transforming at all into a Milagrosa--considering its aesthetic quality. he said that with the appropriate vestments and slight facial retouches, he could bring out the beauty of the santa, which to him had an interesting air.

 First, the metalworks—a pair of rays, an open crown and a simple 12 star halo—were commissioned from the workshop of master metalsmith, Dodong Azares. I was familiar with his work as some of the metal accessories used by my processional santos were done by him. It was clear that he is just as adept in creating small-scale metalworks as shown by these detailed pieces.

 It took a little over a month for Raffy to finish the project, and when I finally got to his shop to see the completed Milagrosa, I was completely bowled over by the amazing transformation, a total makeover that went beyond my expectation.

 Vested and robed, and with features defined (the eyebrows were thickened and arched, nostril dots were painted on, the eyes were lined), my Virgen Milagrosa now stands taller (additional 5 inches courtesy of the halo) and more beautiful than when I first found her.

In her blue and white vestments, she reminds me so much of Pampanga’s own Virgen de los Remedios. Home in time for Christmas, our La Virgen Milagrosa now occupies a special place in our altar, a new object of our veneration, and a beautiful reminder that miracles do happen!

113. A NINO'S REBIRTH

 As one who considers himself a purist antique collector, the idea of getting a new ivory santo was simply inconceivable. But recent developments in the antique trade has led me to rethink my position. It cannot be denied that the stock of antique ivories in the market has dried up a long time ago—even dealers say so. As late as the mid 1990s, one could still go to Philtrade and check out Cesar Reyes’s horde of antique ivories still in their original virinas. I remember seeing a Nino Dormido lying on a hilly meadow decorated with mother-of-pearl “rocks” under a bell jar with a price tag of 45K. A Del Rosario image dressed in gold-embroidered vestments holding a baby Jesus was similarly priced.

Today, antique ivories available in local shops carry astronomical price tags that have become totally out of my reach. A recent visit to an antique shop last week yielded an ivory masked San Jose without a virina and incomplete metalworks outrageoulsy priced at 80K. Such realities have led me to think of more affordable ways to own these precious pieces. Like assembling a santo from disparate antique ivory parts. Or even considering ‘new antiques’—ivories aged to look like old pieces.

Last year, I made the rounds of Philtrade antique and repro shops and this Nino head and hands caught my attention. The hands were okay, but the billiard-ball sized Nino head was carved with a cloyingly cutesy expression complete with  pudgy cheeks and pouty lips, painted a garish pink.

It was the sheer size and heft of the ivory that struck me-- the head was one solid ivory mass. I remember a santo carver advising me to ignore the carving flaws of an ivory head: so long as the ivory is large and solid; it can be recarved and corrected.

When I sheepishly asked about the price, the dealer quoted a figure that sent me scurrying out of Philtrade. On my way out, I decided to text my offer—half of what she quoted. She texted back to tell me that “she needs to confer with her business partner ”. When I told her I was already in a taxi en route for home, she frantically said that she was accepting my offer.

And that’s how I came to own this ivory Nino.  For months, the head sat on its stand, while I figured out what to do with it. One day, I decided to take it to  Nick Lugue, Pampanga’s most accomplished santo carver, and asked him to make a body and a base for it. I was just too busy to even think about this project and didn’t even bother giving Nick specific instructions—except the design of the peaña, which I wanted copied from a book of Mexican colonial art.

Months after, I dropped in for another visit to find the base already done. It had a rococo design, gold-leafed and marbleized. The Niño body was almost finished too. The wooden body was classically carved, with one leg slightly bent on one knee, and a trademark chubbiness complete with a distended stomach and small ding-aling.

But it was the Niño head that floored me. That’s because Nick remolded the facial features—reducing the pudgy cheeks, refining the nose and the eyes, and reducing the size of the collagen-thick lips.

It looked entirely different from the Niño that I bought—more classical looking, less of the cutesiness. The new features of the child Jesus were painted on—the eyebrows were arched, the cheeks were given a soft blush and the blue eyes retouched. A few months after, the assembled Niño, now beautifully transformed,  looked like this:

The standing Nino measures about 17 inches tall; with the base, around 22 inches high. With the crown, it stands an impressive 28 inches.

With the carving  complete, I now was ready to have the ivory Nino dressed. So off I went to Dr. Raffy Lopez to discuss the preliminary vestment style I wanted. Initially, I just wanted a simple Nazareno colored velvet robe with transferred embroidery salvaged from an antique vestment of a Virgen del Carmen I have been saving for years.

Instead, Raffy suggested making a chasuble for the Niño on where he intended to transfer the antique metallic embroidery, so the design could be shown to the fullest. He also preferred using a thinner kind of fabric so the added embroidery could be more detailed—not possible on thick velvet. The work went rather fast on the chasuble and this was the progress of the work after just one week:

The design concept for the cape, on the other hand, was inspired by an old velvet belt I picked from an antique shop in India a few years ago, and which I happened to bring along in my visit to Raffy. I thought it would make a perfect belt for my Dolorosa, but it was just too long. The belt was intricately embroidered with unique quatre-foil panels, the centers of which were studded with glass stones.

While I was engrossed with the design style, Raffy was also thinking of ways to improve my Niño. He discarded the cheap-looking brass crown which came with the ivory, and produced from his full stock of santo accessories, a more appropriate, proper-sized silver crown plated in gold.

He then did final retouches on the facial features of the Niño, darkening the brows and the lids, and subtly refining the lips and the blush. Lashes would be added later.

Two more weeks after, the propitious call from Raffy came--my ivory Santo Niño was ready to be picked up! The result exceeded my expectations;  I never thought new ivory, when properly carved, painted and vested—could look as good as this:

I still have not changed my stand about genuine antiques, but this new ivory project has certainly readjusted my attitude towards collecting: today’s affordable treasures can be tomorrow’s fine antiques.

23. The Saintmakers: NICK LUGUE

This exclusive interview series first appeared as SSF Personalan on Semana Santa Filipinas, the biggest online group of santo owners and enthusiasts. It features personalities directly involved in the “santo trade”: ecclesiastical artists, carvers, artisans, encarnadors, painters, lateros, bordadors, costureras, cultural activists and avid santo fans. It is also aimed at recognizing the unsung contemporary talents behind our religious arts—how they started, how they honed their skills, and how it is like to run a santo business today.

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Featured on this page is the accomplished Pampanga santero NICOLAS LUGUE of Apalit. Nick, as he is more popularly known, is a 41-year old santero who has found quite a measure of success not only in his native Pampanga but also in nearby provinces and even in Metro Manila. In a narrow alley tucked along Barangay San Juan, lies Nick’s house-cum-workshop, which is always a beehive of activity as he and his artisans carve, sand and paint santos of all shapes and sizes. Nick shares with us his experience in carving (pun intended) out a name for himself in the santo industry.


Q: TELL US, WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE YOU BECAME INVOLVED IN THE SANTO TRADE?

NICK: My father, Leopoldo “Pol” Lugue was a carver before me, but he started out carving designs for doors and furniture. I would help him carve these designs and that’s how I got my start -- carving bas reliefs for doors.


When he shifted to santo carvings, I tried that too and I felt a different sense of fulfillment with santos. Santos, unlike furniture, offered a much greater challenge, allowing me to explore and realize my fullest potential as an artist. Every time a client reacts upon seeing a finished santo image, I get a sense of how my artistic skills have improved.

Q: WHEN DID YOU DECIDE TO GO FULL BLAST IN THE SANTERO BUSINESS?

NICK: It was in 1991, actually at the height of the Pinatubo eruptions and its aftermath, that I decided to concentrate on being a santero. Previous to this, I also tried my hand at metalsmithing, experimenting with ‘pukpok’ art. But the appeal of a sculpted image was more enduring to me.


I practiced first with “butul baka” (cow bone) carving—you know, simple bone masks that were affixed to carved bodies of small saints. My first wooden santos were anatomical nightmares! But then again, it was case of “practice makes perfect,” and over the course of time, that’s what I did, practice until I got things right.


Q: WHAT ARE THE CHALLENGES IN RUNNING A RELIGIOUS ART BUSINESS? WHAT IS BUSINESS LIKE TODAY?

NICK: The main challenge in this business is the lack of a wide and deep talent pool. So basically I end up doing everything.


But I like being very hands-on, though. I still do the basic carving, which to me, is the most important step, because if it’s wrong to start with, you can’t undo the mistake. After that, my workers take over. I also do “encarna” work, although I get a lot of help from my younger brother Andoy, who has become adept in painting in oil, lacquer, and all types of paints.


We work twelve months a year, so we are luckier than most. We are already doing Holy Week images at this time. That is why I have no plans at the moment to expand our business -- we are doing quite well.

Q: WHAT ARE YOUR MOST IMPORTANT COMMISSIONS?

NICK: My most important projects are commissions by private individuals, particularly in Bulacan and in Nueva Ecija. For a family in Talavera, Nueva Ecija, I sculpted most of their Semana Santa images, a lot of them tableaus, which have since been featured in their Lenten commemorative book.


Most of my commissions are for Semana Santa images, with Virgins being the most popular. And yes, I have been contacted by SSF members from abroad too, with various inquiries about potential projects.


(Nick has actually worked on two replicas of the canonically-crowned Virgen de los Remedios used for parish visitations. For the Saint Joseph the Worker Parish in Floridablanca, Pampanga, he completed a Nativity Set with thirteen figures. Likewise, he helped restore the 170 year-old Holy Angel of the Nepomuceno Family of Angeles City)

Q: YOU ARE BECOMING A POPULAR NAME AMONG SSF MEMBERS. WHAT MESSAGE WOULD YOU LIKE TO LEAVE THESE SANTO ENTHUSIASTS WHO ARE CURRENT AND POTENTIAL ADMIRERS OF YOUR WORK?


NICK: Well, I hope that SSF truly becomes a venue for information-sharing and for helping out those who desire to have their initial santos, or to upgrade to better ones.

I know that there are a lot of young santo enthusiasts who are members, so to them, I say, be ready to learn from those who have more depth of experience and who are more in the know. Keep an open mind, share the joys of owning and caring for a santo, so that our revered Philippine religious traditions will live on.