285. ALL THAT GLITTERS IS REALLY GOLD, by Nancy T. Lu

OUR LADY OF THE HOLY ROSARY. De Jesus family. by Maximo Vicente

By Nancy T. Lu  /  Photos by Ben Santos

Originally appeared on The Sunday Time Magazine, 16 February 1969 issue. pp. 26-27

The art of decoration by means of needle and thread is an ancient one. But what remained most fascinating is the needlework done in genuine gold.

Elaborate embroideries of fine floral pattern generally adorn the vestments of religious sttaues gracing the altars and the affluent homes of today. The glitter of gold somehow never fails to catch the attemtion of the human eye because of its richness. The leaves and the flowers  as a continuous sheet of burnished metal.

Such an observation calls for a closer scrutiny leading to the discovery that gold threads and lintejuelas are used artistically for decorative purposes.

Fine needlework in the making is shown here as four trained sewers from
the shop of Maximo Vicente embroider gold designs on the silk foundation
material stretched on the embroidery frame.

Gold threads passed and sewn at intervals vary considerably in structure and quality. A closer look that they are made by winding a high-carat gold around some silk thread. Mrs. Soledad Vicente from the shop of Maximo Vicente announced that she uses only threads imported from France. This, in some ways, accounts for the forbidding cost of ordering a santo for private use or for the church.

Furthermore, the gold leafing process used, for instance, on the Our Lady of Guadalupe in Pagsanjan makes it all the more expensive but pious individuals who are devotees of the of the Blessed Mother do not exactly mind the cost.

Some four sewers expertly-trained in the artwork on the embroidery of one assignment for months. Different kinds of stitches are tried after the silk or velvet foundation material has been stretched and temporarily sewn to an embroidery frame.

Designs are patterned after  that of antiques. Enterprising sewers try out original floral patterns. In some cases, the gold embroidery is lifted from centuries-old santos and transferred elsewhere because the original foundation materials fails to survive the onslaught of time.

Embroidering in gold used to be an uncontested preoccupation of nuns in convents. Gradually, lay families took to the trade. To date the tallere de Maximo Vicente which was established in 1908, has tuned out a good number of religious images found in parishes all over the archipelago.

Its most recently-completed commissioned jobs include the Our lady of the Rosary which has a height of one meter and sixty centimeters, including the base. It was finished in time for the fiesta of San Fernando, Pampanga. An even bigger finished work is the Our Lady of Guadalupe statue, roughly 2 meters in size with a diamond studded diadem for its crowning glory.The residents of Pagsanjan are proud of it.

French-imported gold threads varying in structure and quality
are used to bring the fine floral patterns on the vestments
of our Lady of the Rosary.

176. SAN VICENTE FERRER: The Puzzling Case of a Preacher Saint

 SAN VICENTE FERRER, the preacher-saint, with a stance unlike any other. He holds no book, and he doesn't have the "pointing finger" stance common to San Vicente santos. Instead, he has two clenched fists which could have held other items. Show here restored wearing vestments fashioned from an antique robe of another santa.

 Having studied the iconography of saints for quite awhile, I was confident that I could identify major santos in the Philippines based on emblems and attributes. I was stumped, however, by the riddle of a small folk santo figure, found in one of those friendly shops along Sta. Rita exit in Bulacan.

At first glance, I thought I had found a San Vicente Ferrer, the preacher saint and one of the most common santos in rural Philippines.

It had the trademark tonsure haircut, a portly face and figure, even a pair of tiny wings, nailed at a strange angle on the edge of the santo’s back, thus lying flat instead of seen spread out up front.

Even stranger was his pair of hands, which were attached to the wire arms to the body. Both were carved in a clenched position, as if holding objects. Traditionally, San Vicente is depicted holding a Book of Judgment with his left hand, and with his right arm and pointing finger raised upward, so there is certainly something amiss with this image. A clenched fist can’t possibly hold a book!

Could the santo have held a trumpet in his other hand—a rare attribute that symbolizes the announcement of the Judgement Day? Or could it be that this is composite image,  made from different santo parts? The santo head does not quite plug smoothly into the head hole of the mannequin body. But the legs, as one can see, are consistent with the make of the santo head, right down to the paint finish and proportion. Granted that this was a put-together santo, whose male santo body was used to complete the image—one with two clenched fists?

The only santo figures I know with the same stance are the angels of San Roque and San Isidro Labrador. San Roque’s companion angel holds in both hands, a plaque with a prayer against pestilence, while San Isidro’s holds a plow with both hands. Could this be the body of an Angel then—remember, it came with wooden wings!

 Of course, I entertained the possibility that this might be an altogether different saint—San Pedro Martir, perhaps, who looks similar to San Vicente. His attributes include a palm of martyrdom, a sword and a machete—but then, the santo head has no slit to put a machete in.

Regardless who this santo was, I thought It was worth restoring. In fact, I was confident I could personally restore it myself.

I began by repairing the missing parts of his feet with clay epoxy. I also enlarged the crevice for his head and repositioned the tiny wings.

From scrap embroidered vestment materialsI had saved from a past santo project, I fashioned a simple tunic with a belt.

As a final touch, I converted a round earring with fretwork into a halo. The results of this restoration are on this page.

He will, for the time being, be a San Vicente Ferrer to me. Maybe I’ll have a small wooden trumpet made, to hold in his right hand.

And maybe, I’ll see if I can coax him to hold a book. I may not have been able to solve the identity of this strange santo, but at least I managed to put him on the path to salvation!

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!

122. SACRED HEART MADE REAL

This wooden Christ head with matching hands is one of the earliest antique santo heads that I bought for my collection. I had forgotten where I got it, but it was definitely from a Mabini antique shop and that I paid Php 6,000 for it, inclusive of the damaged hands, which I thought was just too much then.

The head itself shows some wear and wood damage at the neck. But the original encarna, though a bit scruffy, is intact, which shows that the santo head is really old, my only reason for buying it. I was not particularly impressed by the carving and I thought the narrow-faced Christ was a bit ‘cross-eyed’. 

By surprise, I found a similar Christ head in the workshop of Mang Kiko Vecin—a twin, in fact, with the same narrow head, same ‘banlag’ (cross-eyed) eyes and shallow beard carving—leading me to believe  that these were mass-produced heads from some early 20th century Manila religious shop.

Nevertheless, I took it home and for the longest time, I kept figuring what to do with it. The hands with missing fingers bore wounds. It could be a Sacred Heart, although popular depictions show Christ with a raised pointing finger. I could also have it made into a Salvador del Mundo, standing on a half-globe with arms outstretched. Christ the King was another possibility, a standing one, like that from Vigan. But since I had other priorities, I put this Cristo project momentarily in the sidelines.

 

Two years ago, an officer from our church asked to borrow a Christ the King image from me. But the only one I had was an altar-size seated Cristo Rey in an urna, too small for church use. This year, I was once again asked if I had a Sacred Heart Christ that I can lend for church use.

 

It was then that I decided to proceed with the restoration project for a Sacred Heart statue, using the antique Cristo head and hands—convertible to a standing Cristo Rey image!

Off to Mang Kiko Vecin I went, for the construction of the body. I thought it would be an easy task, as it took only three weeks for the carvers to make the body.

The finishing was done in another week or so—followed by the drying process. I had earlier told Mang Kiko to have the body painted and white, but when I was called to check on it—the body was painted blue!

 

That was no big deal compared to the retouching of the head.  The head had some discolorations and pockmarked holes, but Mr. Vecin wanted to preserve the original encarna by just doing  light washes on the facial scruffs. But the encarnador couldn’t get the right mix of color right, and the first attempt had the Cristo head looking like it had  ‘an-an’ (ringworm) all over the face! 

The damages on the wood couldn’t be repaired completely by putty or epoxy, until I suggested the use of clay epoxy which I recently discovered and which can be easily be placed in crevices and molded by hand. The hands were no problem at all, although the painter had the same color mixing problems.

 

The new,  flaming Sacred Heart to be set on Christ’s breast was carved separately and then set on brass rays. The image, standing on a simple half globe base, measures 52 inches from the top of Christ’s head to the bottom of His peaña. 

Dressing up the image was next.
Since I wanted a set of no-frills vestment, I asked Ramon Gutierrez to create the robes of the completed Sacred Heart, to be done in traditional colors of white (for the tunic) and bright red (for the cape, with a pink lining).  The draping was also conventional, with the cape tucked under the armpit, with one end over the shoulder. As Sacred Heart, the image now looks like this:

Meanwhile, the other metal accessories that will help transform this Christ image into a standing Cristo Rey were ordered separately from my pukpok (metalsmith) boy from Mexico, Jeric Canlas. Specifically, the image needs a royal crown, a scepter and an orb.

A few more weeks of work and my Christ image--as Cristo Rey-- was ready to be installed at the Divine Grace Church, in time for the Nov. 13 Christ the King celebration.

I am happy with the results of the restoration, and happier still with the convertible transformation—from Sacred Heart to Christ the King. Viva Cristo Rey! Viva Sagrada Corazon de Jesus!