344. A NIÑO DORMIDO FROM BOHOL FINDS A NEW HOME

THE SLEEPING CHRIST CHILD, personal collection

The image of the sleeping Jesus in sacred art is drawn from His birth in Bethlehem, where He was born in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes. It was St. Francis of Assisi, of course, who perpetualized that depiction when he put up a manger in a church.

NINO DORMIDO, from the Francisco Vecin Collection

NINO DORMIDO, on a repurposed doll's toy bed.

The sleeping Christ Child has been the subject of many artists through the centuries, often represented naked, consistently shown with eyes closed or half-closed, with charming poses—tiny finger in His mouth or pointing to His head,  a Hand raised in blessing,  cheek resting on a palm, with straight, bent and crossed legs. In painting and sculpture art, the sleeping baby is shown in different settings---lying on a manger, on a pastoral landscape, on a flaming heart, or adored by the Blessed Mother,

NINO DORMIDO, note the unusual crossed legs.

The hole on the back was where a stick was placed to
support the Nino Dormido while painting.

The most prized sleeping baby Jesus are made of ivory, known as “Niño Dormido”,  which today, are so precious, that they command astronomical prices in auctions, that is, if you can find one. Generally, Niño Dormidos of ivory, come in small sizes for home devotion—with average sizes ranging from 6 to 8 inches. The images are commonly displayed nude to show off the ivory, but many are dressed in gold-embroidered raiments, complete with gold or silver caps, belts and sandals studded with gems.

NINO DORMIDO, Provenance: Bohol

As equally appealing are the locally-carved wooden Niño Dormidos. Though not as expensive as ivories, these antique wooden figures of the Christ Child are much rarer to find, as the traditional Sto. Niño had a more popular following.

The Nino Dormido has its original (but flaking) encarna

This wooden Niño Dormido is one such fine example of religious folk art. It comes from the Francisco Vecin Collection, who owns many of these miniature wooden examples. It is carved from heavy wood, just a little over 7 inches, and is Bohol-made, with its original (now flaking) encarna. I acquired this from him sometime in 2006, when I was still working in Makati, and I was pleasantly surprised that Mr. Vecin let it go.

A CLOSE UP VIEW, reveals open glass eyes.

This Niño Dormido is outstanding in every respect, classically carved with baby features, curly locks, and a plumpish body. Though small, his thick droopy eyelids are outfitted with glass eyes, making him look more awake than sleepy.  This Dormido is one of those rarer versions that show the Baby with crossed legs, as if to foreshadow his Crucifixion.

I decided to keep this Niño Dormido in its “as found” condition, and tried to look for an appropriate bed for it. For years, it laid on a vintage 4-poster toy wooden bed that was too short for him, and encased in an urna that I had asked a furniture shop to make, patterned after an old one.

The Nino sleeps on a piece of antique European lace,

It was only lately that I found another vintage toy bed of the right size ( but with more modern features, alas!). I covered the bed up up with antique laces, and made a flat pillow, and propped it on a new peaña that I no longer use—so that will do for the moment. The final touch is the addition of a spray of wired “lagang” flowers, hoping that it will add to the antique look that I wanted to recreate.

The Sleeping Christ Child is represented in many art forms.

It may not be authentic, but at least this Niño Dormido from Bohol has a new and better home. In the future, I will probably have a new “resting place” made, although I have not figured out if it’s going to be a daybed, a manger, a 4-poster (definitely, not a sofa!).

The Nino's bed rests on a vintage gilded peana,

And what do you think of the idea of having a silver cap and a belt? Well, let me see.. I will sleep over it!.

309. A PRIVATE COLLECTOR'S TREASURE-TROVE OF SANTOS

In one of the exclusive villages in Makati is the residence of a private collector--an academician,  translator, author and professor, who has cultivated a taste for fine Philippine antiques. A fellow Kapampangan, I met this getntleman at our cultural study center, which attracts many scholars of history and cultural heritage workers like him. I had the privilege of being invited to his home, where I had a peek at his modest collection of local sacred art. These are mostly santos that run the range from folk to classical, simple to ornate, wood to ivory. Just look at the treasures that his house holds: 

**********

 A small, ivory Nino with a dressed manikin body, and housed in its own urna.This must have been a part of a Holy Family tableau.

 A folksy trio representing the Holy Family. The heads and hands are made from carved bone. The santos have primitive bodies with wire armature arms. In their original embroidered satin dresses.

 A very small polychromed Bohol Virgin with a replaced ivory head and hands, standing on a cloud base carved with cherubs. It is housed in an equally colorful urna.

 This is a large Santo Nino, darkened and reddened with age. Outfitted with glass eyes, it has a clownish expression and the carving style has a distinct folksy feel.

 I helped the collector acquire this beautiful  3-foot image of the Immaculate Conception by introducing him to an office mate whose fiance's family once ran an antique shop in Greenhills that has since closed down. Despite the crack on the body, the carving of this figure, and its original encarna, are superb.

 A wooden, painted icon of the Holy Trinity. It is painted on a thin, wooden board. Bohol provenance.

 This century-old processionl head of a Cristo for an Agony in the Garden tableau is an outstanding piece, finely carved with details like the high cheekbones, exposed teeth, deep nostrils, and the fine strands of hair on his beard,

 Crucified Christ rendered in ivory, hangs on a hardwood cross outfitted with silver accessories: cantoneras (finials), YNRI, rayos, Christ's potencias, and tapiz. Ot is housed in a glass dome (virina).

 A primitive Sacred Heart of Jesus. The moonface-figure has very little details as seen from the simple drapes on his vestment.

 Another wonderful example of a polychromed Virgen from Bohol enshrined in her own nail-less urna or altar, painted with still-vibrant colors.

 A forlorn-looking Christ the King figure seated on his thrown, missing a scepter and a crown.Such figures are enthroned in family homes, often in the living room.

 Sleeping Santo Nino in ivory. prized in many Filipino homes, Heirloom Nino Dormidos are often passed from generation to generation.

 A naif carving of San Isidro Labrador, patron saint of farmers and laborers. This small santo,with its trademark polychrome painting,  comes from Bohol.

A well-carved crucifix, with the corpus of Christ in wood. The dead Christ wears a silver loincloth, and his head sports silver tres potencias and a crown of thorns. The end finials of the cross plus the YNRI, are all made of silver.

210. AN IVORY NIÑO DORMIDO FINDS A DOME FOR A HOME.

THE LITTLE LORD JESUS LAY DOWN HIS SWEET HEAD. A 7 in. antique ivory Nino sleeps on a new brass crib with  a canopy decorated with old mother-of-pearl flowers. Old plaster sheep from an antique creche and miniature candlesticks flank the Dormido. The whole ensemble is housed in a vintage virina from Thailand, which used to hold an antique Buddha. Personal Collection..

 One of my most treasured santos in my collection is this antique Niño Dormido of solid ivory. I acquired this 7 inch image from a formidable collector of antiques in a most fortuitous way.

 A gentleman collector had previously seen my modest collection of santos posted online and was pleased to know that we shared the same santo restorer. Next thing I knew, he extended an invitation to me to visit his home in a Manila suburb that was filled to the rafters with the most astounding collection of sacred art—from paintings, retablos, tabletop ivories to processional santos. I was just happy to make his acquaintance (he tunred out to be a kabalen!) and grateful for opening his ancestral home to me.

 I was still gushing over this gentleman’s collection when I met up with my santo restorer friend. “”Oh,”, my friend said, “you might want to see his antique Niño Dormido that he is unloading. I have it with me!”.

 It was love at first sight when I beheld the figure, wrapped up in an old silk handkerchief. It was not perfect—his nose and a hand had broken off, both feet were chipped, and the wooden pate on his back was missing. Still, it was an impressive figure, old and hefty, with an impeccable provenance.
 

Antique Niño Dormidos rarely come up in the market, for they are prized devotional pieces by owners. I knew then, I just had to have this sleeping Niño. But when told of the price tag, my heart sank—it was affordable by today’s standards, but still I didn’t have that much amount of money. “Not to worry,”said my friend, “ all we have to do is call the collector! And I’ll tell him who the interested buyer is!”.

To make the long story short, I made an embarrassingly low offer, which, to my surprise, was accepted! It was a kind gesture on the part of the collector, whom I had only previously met once!
 

Once I took the Niño home, it spent months in a shoebox because I really had no idea how to display it. Ideally, this should be in a virina (glass dome), on a velvet bed of some sorts—I have seen examples online. But the costs of antique virinas are so prohibitive—this, before the day of Made in China glass domes.

 It was then that I remembered I had a small glass dome bought in Thailand, which once held a Buddha figure. It was not antique, and the glass itself was thick and full of bubbles—not the clear, thin glass of Czechoslovakian-made antique virinas. But I thought with a bit of creativity, I can make do with this glass dome.

 The first thing I did was to have a new traditional base made, to replace the original base that had tacky floral carvings in front. Designing the brass bed or crib where the Niño would lay proved to be the greatest challenge.

I have seen bridal glass domes with spectacular brass canopies decorated with metal flowers, birds and leaves—and I wanted something like that. In the end, I customized my own design, which I took to my nearest ‘pukpok’ metalsmith in Mexico. I had to explain everything to my metalsmith painstakingly, providing him with visual pegs for small details such as the brass bird, the shapes of leaves and flowers. I also asked him to incorporate an antique brass halo which I earlier found, as a centerpiece accent. It took awhile for him to finish the crib, as it needed to be gold-plated too.

Once done, I took the crib home and figured out a way to embellish it with a cushion and other trimmings. The red velvet ‘bed’ was fashioned from fabrics scraps and cotton batting, thanks to my limited sewing skills. I still had old ‘lagang’( mother-of-pearl) flowers that I used to decorate the wire frame.

 Miniature brass candlesticks sent by a friend from U.K. doubled as flower holders, and a flock of plaster sheep—remnants from an antique crèche were the finishing touches for my Niño Dormido virina project.

Thus, the Christ Child reposes, no longer hidden in a shoebox, but on a velvet, canopied brass crib for his Head, housed in a special glass dome fit for a newborn King.

205. THE BABE ‘N BELEN PROJECT

As a collector, I don’t only collect what I like. I also collect because I see possibilities in many things—whether they be tattered, old, or missing a piece. Therein lies my problem—in my house, I have many odds and ends in various stages of decay, but which I never throw away. My instinct often tells me that these once-loved objects can be a. restored b. salvaged c. re-loved d. adapted for re-use. Which often leads to challenging projects like this Belen project which took about half a year to complete.

 It started with an old wooden sleeping Niño that I found in a provincial antique shop. It was not exactly an impressive piece—it had been thrown in for a song, together with a large San Antonio I had purchased separately. Nothing remarkable about its carving . In fact, it even had a chipped foot.

But sleeping Niños are always hard to come by—be they expensive ivory or plain wood. So, I took it home, repaired its foot (using epoxy clay) and set it aside—in an old urna shared with its original occupant, a bigger sleeping Niño.

 So for months, there it lay—until one day, I saw an unusually small wooden structure in another antique shop I frequent. It was topped with a cross, so I assumed its an old altar, but it has such an intriguing design—there are no indications if the open parts were covered in glass, no doors, no hinges.

 It had a sort of a headboard with a circular flower cut-out, a motif I have seen on old bauls and comodas. The top also had a carved leaf-like appliqué which looked askew. Could this be a miniature toy furniture? Or a mini-urna?

 Anyway, I took it home and envisioned a wooden casing for my homeless wooden Niño. The first thing I did was to strip off the layers of greenish paint that have accumulated as a pasty muck on the wooden surfaces. I decided to remove the carved wooden trim too. 

 After I filled in some holes and other imperfections, I sent it to my frame-maker for a quick week-end paint job. Then, I had the 3 open sides outfitted with glass panes, using the same rubber glue for installing windows. The back, which had the “headboard”, was left open (I put a small curtain to cover it, instead.)

 As the “pediment” looked bare without the carved trimming, I checked my stock of “collectible junk” and found an old brass ribbon trim, that I neatly tacked on top. I used vintage lace to decorate the front and the sides of the altar, then sewed a velvet cushion pad and a pillow for the Niño.

 Maybe I’ll decorate it with some mother-of-pearl flowers when I find the time, but for now, I consider my Babe ‘n Belen Project completed---just in time for Chirstmas!!

131. WHAT CHILD IS THIS?

Before a Filipino santo online dealer fell from the good graces of ebay (he failed to honor legitimate winning bids of buyers, myself included, resulting in 18 negative feedbacks in one month), I was able to get this antique, 8-inch Niño of heavy wood—bald, with peeling paint and glass eyes blackened with age, making him appear pupil-less and eerily blind. The Child Jesus, in a semi-standing position with legs slightly bent at the knees, has his right hand raised in blessing. This arm was threatening to separate from the rest of his body, but other than that, all parts were intact, including his fingers.

 At first, I thought this must have been detached from either a Virgin Mary or a St. Anthony figure—except that the position of the legs, which are almost upright, does not indicate that he was seated. The back showed no hole from where a peg is often placed to secure it to the main image; instead, the Niño’s bottom has a small hole where a peg could be inserted to make Him stand. In fact, it came to me mounted this way.

I have seen standing Niños atop the book held by San Antonio, but this image is too heavy to be put in such a precarious position. It could not also be a Dormido--a sleeping Jesus-- for its eyes are wide open. I could only surmise that this is a small Salvador del Mundo in a lying down position. Besides, the soles of the feet were not carved flat, so he could not have possibly stood on a peaña; the hole in his bottom could have been used to hold him upright during the painting process.

 Done with my conjectures, I brought the Niño to Nick Lugue as a ‘finish-when-you-can-minor project’ alongside my more important commissions. It took awhile to have the small image repaired and repainted, but I was in no real rush, as I haven’t figured out what to do with it.

In the meanwhile, I found an embroidered strip of cloth from an old Dominican santo vestment, so I saved that for the Niño as I thought it would make a perfect tapiz. Putting my limited sewing skills to use, I managed to make the strip into a decent wrap-around for the Niño. Then it went into storage in a cardboard box for a months, as I was kept busy with my Mother’s lingering illness.

A week ago, I decided to skip lunch and check out Manila’s antique shops. Antique-hunting has a way of lifting me out of my depression, even if the effect is just temporary. It was at Padre Faura, at the shop of Floy Quintos, that I found this small, antique tiara encrusted with paste jewels, and engraved with the name of its previous owner, “Maria Purtran Hermana, Enero 6, 1924-1925”. I thought of my Niño, momentarily forgotten in a cardboard box stowed inside my book cabinet. I bought the tiara, vowing to complete my Niño project this weekend.

Saturday afternoon, I took out the Niño and started putting things together, outfitting it with a wig, a leftover from another project, and a necklace made from tiny old beads. The antique tiara was a bit big for his head, but a slight adjustment solved the problem. This was the result:

The last step was finding the right size urna for my restored Salvador del Mundo—or whatever Child was this-- and thank God, I had one in stock. You’ll never know when you need one.

So, there. Maybe I’ll put mother-of-pearl flowers when I find some, but in the meanwhile, you can consider this project successfully done and finished!