From the SAN FRANCISCO SENTINEL
CELEBRATED FILIPINO HISTORIAN TO SPEAK AT THE PRESIDIO
4 September 2008
AMBETH OCAMPO TO GIVE ANNUAL REDMOND KERNAN HISTORY LECTURE?
AS PART OF WAR AND DISSENT: THE U.S. IN THE PHILIPPINES EXHIBIT
The Presidio Trust confirmed today noted Filipino historian,
journalist and National Book Award-winning author Ambeth Ocampo will
deliver a special presentation at the Presidio as part of a series of
special programs accompanying the Presidio?s ambitious new historical
exhibit, War and Dissent: The U.S. in the Philippines 1898-1915. Mr.
Ocampo will give his free talk entitled: ?Annual Redmond Kernan
History Lecture: Ambeth Ocampo Offers a Filipino Perspective? on
Wednesday, October 29, at 7 pm at the Presidio Officers? Club.
?We very much wanted the leading historian in the Philippines to take
part in the exhibit and deliver its keynote presentation,? said
Jeffrey Weik Presidio Trust public programs manager. ?His writings
have earned Ambeth Ocampo numerous awards and honors, and the
Filipino-American National Historical Society highly recommended him.
We couldn?t be more excited he will be returning to the Presidio to
highlight our exhibit programming.?
Mr. Ocampo last visited the Presidio on a typical, i.e. foggy, San
Francisco Sunday in 2007 when he tried in vain to find General
Frederick Funston?s gravesite in the National Cemetery. As part of the
agreement to bring him back to the Presidio, Weik promised to escort
him to the site during his visit.
Born in Manila in 1961, Ambeth Ocampo is associate professor of
history at the Ateneo de Manila University and professorial lecturer
in the University of the Philippines and an internationally syndicated
columnist. He has served as Chairman of the Philippines National
Historical Institute since 2002 and served as Chairman of the National
Commission of Culture and the Arts from 2005-2007. He has won three
National Book Awards for the Essay, Literary History and Bibliography.
The Spanish American War of 1898 and the Philippine War that
immediately followed it were turning points in both the United States?
role in the world and in the history of the Presidio of San Francisco.
A free, mixed-media exhibit, War and Dissent: The U.S. in the
Philippines 1898-1915 tells the story of a little-known war that had
momentous consequences for both Americans and Filipinos. The exhibit
chronicles the growth of the Presidio into a major military
installation and the rise of the United States into an imperial power.
It explores the dissent that erupted around the war and examines the
war through the eyes of a Filipino family caught in the conflict and
an American soldier who trained at the Presidio. The exhibit?s nine
themed galleries feature San Francisco monuments, photographs,
diaries, letters and political cartoons that trace the full sweep of
the conflict.
About the Redmond Kernan History Lecture: Each fall the Presidio Trust
present a free public history lecture by a noted speaker. The annual
lecture is named in honor of Redmond Kernan, a former Army officer and
long-time Presidio advocate, in recognition of his long-standing
commitment to history at the Presidio. The inaugural Redmond Kernan
History Lecture was given November 15, 2007 by Renee Klish, Army Art
Curator with the U.S. Center for Military History in Washington, D.C.
The Presidio Trust was established by the United States Congress in
1996 to manage the Presidio of San Francisco, a former army base
located at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge. The 1,500-acre site
contains the infrastructure of a small city as well as expansive open
space, a 300-acre historic forest, spectacular views, and rare and
endangered plants and wildlife. It comprises nearly 6 million square
feet of buildings, including 469 historic structures that contribute
to its status as a National Historic Landmark District, making it
unlike any other national park. In establishing the Trust, Congress
mandated that it make the park financially self-sufficient by 2013.
The Trust is the only federal agency with this mandate.
Following is a schedule of special programs and events, and
accompanying briefs, surrounding War and Dissent: The U.S. in the
Philippines 1898-1915 for inclusion in events calendars.
A complete schedule of programs and events is available at
presidio.gov/calendar.
New Exhibit
War & Dissent: U.S. in the Philippines, 1898-1915
October 22, 2008 - February 22, 2009
Wednesday to Sunday, 11 am to 5 pm
Presidio Officers? Club, 50 Moraga Avenue, Presidio
War and Dissent: Behind the Scenes in the Gallery
Curator and historian Dr. Randolph Delehanty holds a question and
answer session and discusses the making of War and Dissent and the
people who helped make it happen.
Wednesday Ocotober 22, 7-8pm Presidio Officers? Club, 50 Moraga Ave.,
San Francisco
The Annual Redmond Kernan History Lecture: Ambeth Ocampo Offers A
Filipino Perspective
Filipino historian, journalist, academic and author Ambeth Ocampo will
present The Philippines War of Independence. Mr. Ocampo is the chair
of the Philippines? National Historical Institute and a past chair of
the National Commission for Culture in the Arts.
Wednesday, October 29 7-8:30pm Presidio Officers? Club, 50 Moraga
Ave., San Francisco
For a complete schedule of programs and events go to
www.presidio.gov/calendar.
Shadows of War: The Lopez Family in the Philippines 1901
Produced by San Francisco?s Bindlestiff Studios, this free multi-media
production inspired by the War and Dissent exhibit incorporates live
actors and music silhouetted against a backdrop of historical photos
that will illustrate the stories of the Lopez family and their
involvement in the Philippine war.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Details that breathe life into history
By Ambeth Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 00:44:00 09/24/2008
When Emilio Aguinaldo was in power, he carried many titles: “president” was one, “generalissimo” another, and “dictator” yet another. Because of our experience with Ferdinand Marcos and martial law, “dictator” is seen in a negative way, but during the Philippine Revolution and the Philippine-American War, the context was different.
It is unfortunate that Aguinaldo is just a name in our textbooks, a hero fossilized in monuments of bronze and marble. My mental image of Aguinaldo changed when I visited his home in Kawit, Cavite. There I saw both a hero and a man.
His house is an eccentric architectural marvel, complete with secret passages. Floors open to reveal a hidden staircase, a cabinet opens into a small passage way, the heavy-tone kitchen table covers a dark tunnel that reputedly leads to the town church.
While everyone is busy looking at the famous “Independence Balcony” where the Declaration of Independence was read on June 12, 1898, I try to find photographs of the house as it was in 1898. There was no balcony at the time, and the declaration was read from a window that has since become a balcony for photo opportunities.
The Kawit kitchen is quite interesting. There is an ice box built into a wall that doubles as a staircase to the servants’ quarters. The stove and oven even has an ornate cast-iron cover marked “E. Aguinaldo.”
Contemplating this kitchen made me wonder what kind of food Aguinaldo ate, what he liked, what he disliked. Jose Rizal recorded in his diary that one of his favorite foods was “sardinas secas,” literally translated into “dried sardines” but more popularly known as tuyo. One wonders if Aguinaldo’s cook kept a cookbook of the general’s favorite dishes and who came to dinner in Kawit. Getting to know what our heroes ate makes us know them better.
Aguinaldo’s memoirs do not carry detailed references to food but when his forces were moving northward from Malolos, Bulacan, to escape the enemy, they had to subsist on a very Spartan diet. From the diaries of his companions, Santiago Barcelona and Simeon Villa, we find out what they ate. One of the specialties was called “Banawe Breakfast”:
“The so-called Banaue Breakfast is enjoyed every morning by the President and [his] family during their stay in this ‘rancheria’ [barrio]. It is tasty light and digestible, cheap and easy to prepare. It has been preferred by all who have tasted it and by the President himself whenever he comes to these mountains. It consists of milk and coffee, fried ‘camote’ [sweet potato], and five to seven millimeters thick of butter. It was named thus by the President.”
Today we have “camote-cue” covered in caramelized sugar (I have yet to try fried camote with butter). It must be the local version of French fried potatoes, but can we have camote with coffee?
From the diary of Col. Simeon Villa, there is this entry on March 22, 1901: “Today is the President’s birthday. Many people come to greet him.”
On March 23, 1901, four years after he became President of the First Republic, Aguinaldo was a prisoner of the Americans having been captured by Fredrick Funston and his merry band of Macabebe mercenaries. Aguinaldo’s trek to Palanan, Isabela, gave them a taste of camote:
“There was an abundance of camote, but rice was so scarce that our meals had been reduced to twice a day: the first consisted of camote cooked at nine in the morning, and the second at three in the afternoon consisted of rice and meat. Our ration was one half ‘chupa’ [one-third of a liter] only, so we never felt satisfied. When meat was not available, and this was really scarce, we had camote tops and pepper leaves cooked in salt and water. Sometimes when rice was scarce, kamote took its place in our afternoon meal, so we had camote the whole day.”
They were so sick of it that they started to dream of better food and better places: “One moonlit night the President [and others] agreed that once the independence of the country was declared, we would travel leisurely through Europe and with a budget of one million pesos for expenses.”
This was obviously a remark made in jest, a remark made in the wilderness of Northern Luzon, and yet some people have taken it literally, thus painting Aguinaldo in the worst possible way.
I remembered these stray references to food when I visited Aguinaldo’s house hoping I would get to know the hero better. I looked at many old photographs and looked at the books in his library. I even contemplated the carabao backrest on his chair. There are many surprising relics in Kawit, like old uniforms and insignia, but the most odd are the pickled appendix of the general together with a dry piece of gauze in a separate bottle, the souvenirs of an appendectomy. These are kept in his medicine cabinet in the middle of many blue bottles of eye drops.
After the operation, Aguinaldo still complained of discomfort. The surgeons opened him up again, only to discover that one of the doctors forgot a towel inside!
I’ve asked some doctors if this was a case of medical malpractice. They replied that a towel was negligible. But what if they forgot a scalpel?
Such details not found in our textbooks. They may be trivial but they breathe life into our history.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 00:44:00 09/24/2008
When Emilio Aguinaldo was in power, he carried many titles: “president” was one, “generalissimo” another, and “dictator” yet another. Because of our experience with Ferdinand Marcos and martial law, “dictator” is seen in a negative way, but during the Philippine Revolution and the Philippine-American War, the context was different.
It is unfortunate that Aguinaldo is just a name in our textbooks, a hero fossilized in monuments of bronze and marble. My mental image of Aguinaldo changed when I visited his home in Kawit, Cavite. There I saw both a hero and a man.
His house is an eccentric architectural marvel, complete with secret passages. Floors open to reveal a hidden staircase, a cabinet opens into a small passage way, the heavy-tone kitchen table covers a dark tunnel that reputedly leads to the town church.
While everyone is busy looking at the famous “Independence Balcony” where the Declaration of Independence was read on June 12, 1898, I try to find photographs of the house as it was in 1898. There was no balcony at the time, and the declaration was read from a window that has since become a balcony for photo opportunities.
The Kawit kitchen is quite interesting. There is an ice box built into a wall that doubles as a staircase to the servants’ quarters. The stove and oven even has an ornate cast-iron cover marked “E. Aguinaldo.”
Contemplating this kitchen made me wonder what kind of food Aguinaldo ate, what he liked, what he disliked. Jose Rizal recorded in his diary that one of his favorite foods was “sardinas secas,” literally translated into “dried sardines” but more popularly known as tuyo. One wonders if Aguinaldo’s cook kept a cookbook of the general’s favorite dishes and who came to dinner in Kawit. Getting to know what our heroes ate makes us know them better.
Aguinaldo’s memoirs do not carry detailed references to food but when his forces were moving northward from Malolos, Bulacan, to escape the enemy, they had to subsist on a very Spartan diet. From the diaries of his companions, Santiago Barcelona and Simeon Villa, we find out what they ate. One of the specialties was called “Banawe Breakfast”:
“The so-called Banaue Breakfast is enjoyed every morning by the President and [his] family during their stay in this ‘rancheria’ [barrio]. It is tasty light and digestible, cheap and easy to prepare. It has been preferred by all who have tasted it and by the President himself whenever he comes to these mountains. It consists of milk and coffee, fried ‘camote’ [sweet potato], and five to seven millimeters thick of butter. It was named thus by the President.”
Today we have “camote-cue” covered in caramelized sugar (I have yet to try fried camote with butter). It must be the local version of French fried potatoes, but can we have camote with coffee?
From the diary of Col. Simeon Villa, there is this entry on March 22, 1901: “Today is the President’s birthday. Many people come to greet him.”
On March 23, 1901, four years after he became President of the First Republic, Aguinaldo was a prisoner of the Americans having been captured by Fredrick Funston and his merry band of Macabebe mercenaries. Aguinaldo’s trek to Palanan, Isabela, gave them a taste of camote:
“There was an abundance of camote, but rice was so scarce that our meals had been reduced to twice a day: the first consisted of camote cooked at nine in the morning, and the second at three in the afternoon consisted of rice and meat. Our ration was one half ‘chupa’ [one-third of a liter] only, so we never felt satisfied. When meat was not available, and this was really scarce, we had camote tops and pepper leaves cooked in salt and water. Sometimes when rice was scarce, kamote took its place in our afternoon meal, so we had camote the whole day.”
They were so sick of it that they started to dream of better food and better places: “One moonlit night the President [and others] agreed that once the independence of the country was declared, we would travel leisurely through Europe and with a budget of one million pesos for expenses.”
This was obviously a remark made in jest, a remark made in the wilderness of Northern Luzon, and yet some people have taken it literally, thus painting Aguinaldo in the worst possible way.
I remembered these stray references to food when I visited Aguinaldo’s house hoping I would get to know the hero better. I looked at many old photographs and looked at the books in his library. I even contemplated the carabao backrest on his chair. There are many surprising relics in Kawit, like old uniforms and insignia, but the most odd are the pickled appendix of the general together with a dry piece of gauze in a separate bottle, the souvenirs of an appendectomy. These are kept in his medicine cabinet in the middle of many blue bottles of eye drops.
After the operation, Aguinaldo still complained of discomfort. The surgeons opened him up again, only to discover that one of the doctors forgot a towel inside!
I’ve asked some doctors if this was a case of medical malpractice. They replied that a towel was negligible. But what if they forgot a scalpel?
Such details not found in our textbooks. They may be trivial but they breathe life into our history.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
Amorsolo in America
By Ambeth Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:31:00 09/19/2008
MANILA, Philippines—This Friday night there will be a gala dinner to jump-start the activities and, more importantly, raise funds for the biggest exhibition on the life and works of Fernando C. Amorsolo, who was declared the first National Artist of the Philippines in 1972. “His Art. Our Heart” is the catchy title of a series of shows in different venues and themes. For example, the Lopez Museum will draw from its collection and focus on Amorsolo as a graphic artist—from the illustrations to the famous series of “Philippine Readers” textbooks rand other prewar magazines to the Ginebra San Miguel label and Ivory soap advertisements. The Yuchengco Museum will concentrate on portraits. Other participating museums are the National Museum, the Vargas Museum, the Ayala Museum, National Museum and Lopez Museum—all covering different aspects of the artist’s life and work. When all these are put together, we will be able to see Amorsolo in a new light and perhaps appreciate him more.
It is hoped that the same attention will be given to the remaining National Artists.
If you go by the results of international art auctions, Amorsolo is a constant favorite. His paintings rarely go unsold. When a canvas is special for its rarity and technique, its price goes way beyond the estimates.
In 1919, Enrique Zobel commissioned Amorsolo to make copies of Francisco Goya’s “Maja Desnuda” and Velazquez’s “Don Fernando de Austria.” Things were more difficult in the age before the Internet and since these famous paintings were hanging in the Prado Museum in Madrid, Zobel paid for Amorsolo’s trip to Spain and sent him a monthly pension. I have yet to see these Amorsolo copies (I wonder if these survived World War II). After completing this commission and making some exceptional paintings and drawings of a nude Spanish woman, the artist visited major cities in the United States, including New York, Washington and San Francisco.
As a historian, I’m interested in researching Amorsolo’s notebooks and letters to know what he saw and what he experienced and try to relate these to his art. Naturally, his paintings, drawings, and sketches are worth a lot of money but his writings are just as important even if they don’t fetch the same astronomical prices.
Years ago, I wrote an essay about Amorsolo’s sketches of Manila during the war. These sketches form a visual and historical record of those dark days. And I hope that this great exhibition will yield materials previously unknown to art historians so we can enlarge our knowledge of Amorsolo and his world.
The National Museum has many pencil studies, some with notes on color and treatment that give us an idea of his technique and creative process. It is hoped that more papers will be found with his relatives, friends and contemporaries. There is a very revealing undated and incomplete letter he wrote to his friend Guillermo E. Tolentino that I’m sharing today. The original used to be in the possession of Paz Tolentino, but now it cannot be found after having been “borrowed” by someone who never returned it. The letter reads:
“Hindi rin ako nayamot sa tren gaya sa bapor ngunit ako’y masiadong nag-iisa kaya halos lahat ng aking mga kasama, nagsisilapit at minsan-minsan akong hinahanap. Mayroon tuloy akong nakilalang isang Ingles na may gustong pumunta sa P.I. [Philippine Islands] at dalawang Amerikano na doon ang tungo. Ang isa ay sundalo at madalas akong kinakausap ng Kastila at Tagalog. Ang unang tanong sa akin ay ang Sampaloc at ‘Mucho bueno ba ang puki Espanol?’
“Mayroon namang isang matandang Americano na sa dining coach ay kinausap ako agad ng Kastila. Nang sinabi ko na ako’y Filipino ay agad tinanong ako ng opinion ko about our independencia. Sina [not legible] siya na kung ako’y gagawing Presidente ay dapat na ngang maging independiente tayo ngunit kung hindi ay huwag nang ibigay kahit kelan. Sapagkat kung hindi rin ako gagawing presidente o emperador ay hindi mawawala ang partido ng mangkukulam.
“Bago kami makaraan ng Salt Lake ay nakakita ako ng mina at conejo.
“Ang hindi ko gusto ay ang aking pagtulog. Magbuhat Chicago hindi na ako nakatikim ng lower berth. Maraming Amerikanang magaganda ngunit walang libre banat.
“Kahapon ng hapon pinasial ko ang city sa bus. Nakita ko ang Cliff House, Golden Gate, Presidio, etc.
“Kaninang umaga higit na tatlong oras ako sa Museo sa Golden Gate. Very poor ang Museo. Dito pinapakilala ng Amerikano ang kanilang ignorance in art taste. Sa sculpture room wala akong napili kundi dalawa o tatlo (ang isa’y itong postal). Halos lahat na ay amanerado tila mga yari ng isang fabrica de marmol o escultura para restaurant o pangadorno sa mga salon de club.
“Tumagal lamang ako ng konti sa room ng last War at sa Spanish-American War. Dito ko nakita ng ilang nauukol sa Revolucion Filipina, etc.etc.
“Pag-alis ko sa Museo ay nabasa akong mabuti at gutom na gutom ako at natae ako ng matigas.
“Kamusta na lang sa kaluluwa mo. (Sgd) F.C. Amorsolo.”
I did not translate the above to give the reader a sense of Amorsolo’s familiar and rather earthy language. The reference to sex and stool is twice as vulgar in the original Tagalog. Writing on the back of a series of tourist or picture postcards, Amorsolo did not just tell us where he went but provided his opinion—a boon to any historian or biographer. Imagine what else research will uncover.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:31:00 09/19/2008
MANILA, Philippines—This Friday night there will be a gala dinner to jump-start the activities and, more importantly, raise funds for the biggest exhibition on the life and works of Fernando C. Amorsolo, who was declared the first National Artist of the Philippines in 1972. “His Art. Our Heart” is the catchy title of a series of shows in different venues and themes. For example, the Lopez Museum will draw from its collection and focus on Amorsolo as a graphic artist—from the illustrations to the famous series of “Philippine Readers” textbooks rand other prewar magazines to the Ginebra San Miguel label and Ivory soap advertisements. The Yuchengco Museum will concentrate on portraits. Other participating museums are the National Museum, the Vargas Museum, the Ayala Museum, National Museum and Lopez Museum—all covering different aspects of the artist’s life and work. When all these are put together, we will be able to see Amorsolo in a new light and perhaps appreciate him more.
It is hoped that the same attention will be given to the remaining National Artists.
If you go by the results of international art auctions, Amorsolo is a constant favorite. His paintings rarely go unsold. When a canvas is special for its rarity and technique, its price goes way beyond the estimates.
In 1919, Enrique Zobel commissioned Amorsolo to make copies of Francisco Goya’s “Maja Desnuda” and Velazquez’s “Don Fernando de Austria.” Things were more difficult in the age before the Internet and since these famous paintings were hanging in the Prado Museum in Madrid, Zobel paid for Amorsolo’s trip to Spain and sent him a monthly pension. I have yet to see these Amorsolo copies (I wonder if these survived World War II). After completing this commission and making some exceptional paintings and drawings of a nude Spanish woman, the artist visited major cities in the United States, including New York, Washington and San Francisco.
As a historian, I’m interested in researching Amorsolo’s notebooks and letters to know what he saw and what he experienced and try to relate these to his art. Naturally, his paintings, drawings, and sketches are worth a lot of money but his writings are just as important even if they don’t fetch the same astronomical prices.
Years ago, I wrote an essay about Amorsolo’s sketches of Manila during the war. These sketches form a visual and historical record of those dark days. And I hope that this great exhibition will yield materials previously unknown to art historians so we can enlarge our knowledge of Amorsolo and his world.
The National Museum has many pencil studies, some with notes on color and treatment that give us an idea of his technique and creative process. It is hoped that more papers will be found with his relatives, friends and contemporaries. There is a very revealing undated and incomplete letter he wrote to his friend Guillermo E. Tolentino that I’m sharing today. The original used to be in the possession of Paz Tolentino, but now it cannot be found after having been “borrowed” by someone who never returned it. The letter reads:
“Hindi rin ako nayamot sa tren gaya sa bapor ngunit ako’y masiadong nag-iisa kaya halos lahat ng aking mga kasama, nagsisilapit at minsan-minsan akong hinahanap. Mayroon tuloy akong nakilalang isang Ingles na may gustong pumunta sa P.I. [Philippine Islands] at dalawang Amerikano na doon ang tungo. Ang isa ay sundalo at madalas akong kinakausap ng Kastila at Tagalog. Ang unang tanong sa akin ay ang Sampaloc at ‘Mucho bueno ba ang puki Espanol?’
“Mayroon namang isang matandang Americano na sa dining coach ay kinausap ako agad ng Kastila. Nang sinabi ko na ako’y Filipino ay agad tinanong ako ng opinion ko about our independencia. Sina [not legible] siya na kung ako’y gagawing Presidente ay dapat na ngang maging independiente tayo ngunit kung hindi ay huwag nang ibigay kahit kelan. Sapagkat kung hindi rin ako gagawing presidente o emperador ay hindi mawawala ang partido ng mangkukulam.
“Bago kami makaraan ng Salt Lake ay nakakita ako ng mina at conejo.
“Ang hindi ko gusto ay ang aking pagtulog. Magbuhat Chicago hindi na ako nakatikim ng lower berth. Maraming Amerikanang magaganda ngunit walang libre banat.
“Kahapon ng hapon pinasial ko ang city sa bus. Nakita ko ang Cliff House, Golden Gate, Presidio, etc.
“Kaninang umaga higit na tatlong oras ako sa Museo sa Golden Gate. Very poor ang Museo. Dito pinapakilala ng Amerikano ang kanilang ignorance in art taste. Sa sculpture room wala akong napili kundi dalawa o tatlo (ang isa’y itong postal). Halos lahat na ay amanerado tila mga yari ng isang fabrica de marmol o escultura para restaurant o pangadorno sa mga salon de club.
“Tumagal lamang ako ng konti sa room ng last War at sa Spanish-American War. Dito ko nakita ng ilang nauukol sa Revolucion Filipina, etc.etc.
“Pag-alis ko sa Museo ay nabasa akong mabuti at gutom na gutom ako at natae ako ng matigas.
“Kamusta na lang sa kaluluwa mo. (Sgd) F.C. Amorsolo.”
I did not translate the above to give the reader a sense of Amorsolo’s familiar and rather earthy language. The reference to sex and stool is twice as vulgar in the original Tagalog. Writing on the back of a series of tourist or picture postcards, Amorsolo did not just tell us where he went but provided his opinion—a boon to any historian or biographer. Imagine what else research will uncover.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Hidalgo, Bustamante and the Big Black Wolf
Museum Foundation of the Philippines cordially invites you
On October 04, 2008, Saturday,
from 10h am-12h noon at the Ablaza Hall
of the National Museum Gallery of Art
to hear Prof. Ambeth R. Ocampo talk on:
Hidalgo, Bustamante and
the Big Black Wolf
What is the lecture about?
"Hidalgo, Bustamante and the Big Black Wolf" begins with Felix R.
Hidalgo's painting "Assassination of Governor Bustamante", a bequest of
the Locsin Family to the National Museum. From the painting, Prof.
Ocampo traces the history of the story of Governor Bustamante from the
bloody events of the 18th century and how it spawned the novel "La Loba
Negra" (The Black Wolf) previously believed to have been written by Fr.
Jose Burgos, and now proven to be a forgery.
The lecture will try and weave the various strands of the Bustamante
story and relate them with other times, other works.
About Prof. Ambeth R. Ocampo:
Ambeth R. Ocampo is the Chairman of the National Historical Institute
(NHI) and Associate Professor, Department of History, Ateneo de Manila
University.
He is a public historian, and writes a widely-read opinion page column
for the Philippine Daily Inquirer. He has published fourteen (14)
books, mostly compilations of his historical essays. He is the
recipient of numerous honours and awards.
Fees: MFPI Members P100.00 Non-members P150.00 Students
P50.00
For inquiries and reservations, please call Elvie Magpayo at MFPI
office: 404-2685 or 0928-503-9392, or Flor Cortez at 722-9073, or Toni
Bautista at 810-6912.
On October 04, 2008, Saturday,
from 10h am-12h noon at the Ablaza Hall
of the National Museum Gallery of Art
to hear Prof. Ambeth R. Ocampo talk on:
Hidalgo, Bustamante and
the Big Black Wolf
What is the lecture about?
"Hidalgo, Bustamante and the Big Black Wolf" begins with Felix R.
Hidalgo's painting "Assassination of Governor Bustamante", a bequest of
the Locsin Family to the National Museum. From the painting, Prof.
Ocampo traces the history of the story of Governor Bustamante from the
bloody events of the 18th century and how it spawned the novel "La Loba
Negra" (The Black Wolf) previously believed to have been written by Fr.
Jose Burgos, and now proven to be a forgery.
The lecture will try and weave the various strands of the Bustamante
story and relate them with other times, other works.
About Prof. Ambeth R. Ocampo:
Ambeth R. Ocampo is the Chairman of the National Historical Institute
(NHI) and Associate Professor, Department of History, Ateneo de Manila
University.
He is a public historian, and writes a widely-read opinion page column
for the Philippine Daily Inquirer. He has published fourteen (14)
books, mostly compilations of his historical essays. He is the
recipient of numerous honours and awards.
Fees: MFPI Members P100.00 Non-members P150.00 Students
P50.00
For inquiries and reservations, please call Elvie Magpayo at MFPI
office: 404-2685 or 0928-503-9392, or Flor Cortez at 722-9073, or Toni
Bautista at 810-6912.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Antonio Luna’s personal possessions
By Ambeth Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:18:00 09/17/2008
This Wednesday morning in Tarlac province there will be a simple commemoration of the 137th birthday of Francisco Makabulos (1871-1922), one of the little-known generals of the Philippine Revolution. His father was Alejandro Makabulos of Lubao, Pampanga, and his mother was Gregoria Soliman of Tondo, Manila. From the surnames alone, one can assume that his ancestors were of pre-Spanish warrior class, “maka-bulos” being Kapampangan for one who has set something or someone free.
Maybe a student can be made to look up the meanings of common Kapampangan surnames and see what they mean: Catacutan is self-explanatory, someone to be feared; Maka-pagal is someone who will wear you out, perhaps someone best described as tireless; then you have Maka-spak, someone who could break things.
That Makabulos’ mother was a Soliman from Tondo could mean he was a descendant of the once great ruler of Maynila, because members of the pre-Spanish nobility were allowed to keep their surnames like: Soliman, Lakandula, Gat-dula and Gat-bonton. From names alone a lot of clues to history can be found and all it takes is some effort to follow the leads.
Over the past few weeks I have been traveling around the country, learning local history and honoring heroes like Pantaleon Villegas. Better known as “Leon Kilat,” he was born in Bacong, Negros Oriental, but settled in Cebu province where he routed the enemy. He was assassinated in Carcar, Cebu, during Holy Week in 1898. There were also Maxilom of Cebu and the leaders of the Revolution in Panay, like Martin Delgado and Adriano Hernandez. Maybe there is truth to the rumor that what passes off for “ Philippine history” is actually the local history of Manila. Other regions, other places are looking at their own histories and finding their heroes who should join the bigger names like Aguinaldo, Bonifacio, or Luna. There is so much history to be found in the regions, but I have spent a lot of time in Manila contemplating the navel by going into the details of famous lives.
Two decades ago, I went through the papers of Antonio Luna. A great collection was recovered in an attic in New York that originally belonged to Grace Luna, wife of the prominent prewar architect Andres Luna who was the son of Juan Luna the painter and nephew of Antonio Luna, one of the generals in the Philippine-American War. While everyone was naturally attracted to the many paintings and sketches of Juan Luna, which are worth a lot of money, nobody seemed interested in the personal papers of Antonio Luna. So I went through an entire “balikbayan” box that contained everything, from personal correspondence and diaries to his notebooks when he was a student in Institut Pasteur in Paris complete with drawings of things he saw under the microscope.
I was overwhelmed by the manuscripts and a bloodied uniform, the same coat Luna was wearing when he was assassinated by Emilio Aguinaldo’s bodyguards in Cabanatuan in 1899. At the time, I did not know very much about Luna that was not in Vivencio Jose’s “Rise and Fall of Antonio Luna” (1971), so I visited the National Library where I found the inventory of his personal effects at the time of his death:
One leather traveling bag with toiletry case, one elastic sash, one alcohol lamp; curling irons, one packet boric acid, one packet rice powder, two small boxes shoe polish, one shoe brush, one soap dish, one pair spurs. (The curling irons were for his moustache, the rice powder to dull the shine on his face.)
A canvas traveling bag containing one pair charol half-boots, one pair hazelnut-colored leather buskins, one pair leather boots, one pair high canvas buskins; one astrolabe. One “baul” [chest] containing one black frock coat, one mirror “de tres lunas” [literally, of three moons], two white tunics, two white pants, one blue wool band, one Ilocano bedspread, two bath towels, one pair unused slippers, one empty leather portfolio, one metal box with coat buttons, 32 small boxes of cartridges, five cane fans, one general’s cap, one English straw hat, one Baliuag hat. (The empty leather portfolio could be just that or, as some would like to believe, it could have once contained the money of the Revolution that disappeared.)
One baul containing one thick raincoat, one pair “guignon” pants with sashes, three striped Cuban pants, five “calzoncillos” [underpants], five khaki pants, five short collars, two cotton shirts, two pillow cases, one big towel, three colored handkerchiefs, six books and shoulder pads. (It’s a pity that the book titles were not listed down or itemized; it would be enlightening what he was reading. It is also unfortunate that these items did not survive because we would not only know what he wore and what he looked like as a person, but his clothes would reveal his body measurements, which could help us know how tall he was, or what his body type was like.)
One box with six books, four canes, one saber, two American bayonets, one pair hazel-colored buskins, one Japanese bathrobe, two boxes with twenty handkerchiefs, six khaki “mambisas” (?), two khaki pants, one pair pantaloon “de montar,” one wool “americana” [suit], wool pants, eight white pants, seven white americanas, seventeen shirt collars, twelve shirts, five pillow cases, two “camisas de chino” [undershirts], two wool socks, and a “kalasiao” hat.
Trivial list or clues to Luna’s personality? That depends how the historian deals with the data.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:18:00 09/17/2008
This Wednesday morning in Tarlac province there will be a simple commemoration of the 137th birthday of Francisco Makabulos (1871-1922), one of the little-known generals of the Philippine Revolution. His father was Alejandro Makabulos of Lubao, Pampanga, and his mother was Gregoria Soliman of Tondo, Manila. From the surnames alone, one can assume that his ancestors were of pre-Spanish warrior class, “maka-bulos” being Kapampangan for one who has set something or someone free.
Maybe a student can be made to look up the meanings of common Kapampangan surnames and see what they mean: Catacutan is self-explanatory, someone to be feared; Maka-pagal is someone who will wear you out, perhaps someone best described as tireless; then you have Maka-spak, someone who could break things.
That Makabulos’ mother was a Soliman from Tondo could mean he was a descendant of the once great ruler of Maynila, because members of the pre-Spanish nobility were allowed to keep their surnames like: Soliman, Lakandula, Gat-dula and Gat-bonton. From names alone a lot of clues to history can be found and all it takes is some effort to follow the leads.
Over the past few weeks I have been traveling around the country, learning local history and honoring heroes like Pantaleon Villegas. Better known as “Leon Kilat,” he was born in Bacong, Negros Oriental, but settled in Cebu province where he routed the enemy. He was assassinated in Carcar, Cebu, during Holy Week in 1898. There were also Maxilom of Cebu and the leaders of the Revolution in Panay, like Martin Delgado and Adriano Hernandez. Maybe there is truth to the rumor that what passes off for “ Philippine history” is actually the local history of Manila. Other regions, other places are looking at their own histories and finding their heroes who should join the bigger names like Aguinaldo, Bonifacio, or Luna. There is so much history to be found in the regions, but I have spent a lot of time in Manila contemplating the navel by going into the details of famous lives.
Two decades ago, I went through the papers of Antonio Luna. A great collection was recovered in an attic in New York that originally belonged to Grace Luna, wife of the prominent prewar architect Andres Luna who was the son of Juan Luna the painter and nephew of Antonio Luna, one of the generals in the Philippine-American War. While everyone was naturally attracted to the many paintings and sketches of Juan Luna, which are worth a lot of money, nobody seemed interested in the personal papers of Antonio Luna. So I went through an entire “balikbayan” box that contained everything, from personal correspondence and diaries to his notebooks when he was a student in Institut Pasteur in Paris complete with drawings of things he saw under the microscope.
I was overwhelmed by the manuscripts and a bloodied uniform, the same coat Luna was wearing when he was assassinated by Emilio Aguinaldo’s bodyguards in Cabanatuan in 1899. At the time, I did not know very much about Luna that was not in Vivencio Jose’s “Rise and Fall of Antonio Luna” (1971), so I visited the National Library where I found the inventory of his personal effects at the time of his death:
One leather traveling bag with toiletry case, one elastic sash, one alcohol lamp; curling irons, one packet boric acid, one packet rice powder, two small boxes shoe polish, one shoe brush, one soap dish, one pair spurs. (The curling irons were for his moustache, the rice powder to dull the shine on his face.)
A canvas traveling bag containing one pair charol half-boots, one pair hazelnut-colored leather buskins, one pair leather boots, one pair high canvas buskins; one astrolabe. One “baul” [chest] containing one black frock coat, one mirror “de tres lunas” [literally, of three moons], two white tunics, two white pants, one blue wool band, one Ilocano bedspread, two bath towels, one pair unused slippers, one empty leather portfolio, one metal box with coat buttons, 32 small boxes of cartridges, five cane fans, one general’s cap, one English straw hat, one Baliuag hat. (The empty leather portfolio could be just that or, as some would like to believe, it could have once contained the money of the Revolution that disappeared.)
One baul containing one thick raincoat, one pair “guignon” pants with sashes, three striped Cuban pants, five “calzoncillos” [underpants], five khaki pants, five short collars, two cotton shirts, two pillow cases, one big towel, three colored handkerchiefs, six books and shoulder pads. (It’s a pity that the book titles were not listed down or itemized; it would be enlightening what he was reading. It is also unfortunate that these items did not survive because we would not only know what he wore and what he looked like as a person, but his clothes would reveal his body measurements, which could help us know how tall he was, or what his body type was like.)
One box with six books, four canes, one saber, two American bayonets, one pair hazel-colored buskins, one Japanese bathrobe, two boxes with twenty handkerchiefs, six khaki “mambisas” (?), two khaki pants, one pair pantaloon “de montar,” one wool “americana” [suit], wool pants, eight white pants, seven white americanas, seventeen shirt collars, twelve shirts, five pillow cases, two “camisas de chino” [undershirts], two wool socks, and a “kalasiao” hat.
Trivial list or clues to Luna’s personality? That depends how the historian deals with the data.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
The Philippines in a Golden Age
By Ambeth Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 00:17:00 09/12/2008
MANILA, Philippines—Billed as “the exhibit you waited a thousand years to see,” the Ayala Museum Gold Room is worth a visit. All that glitters is gold—pre-Spanish gold, that is, jewelry made by our ancestors that is jaw-dropping. Before the Ayala Museum exhibit, one already marveled at the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas Gold Room, a walk-in vault underneath the Metropolitan Museum. This display in quantity and the quality of its presentation set a new benchmark for curatorial design. I don’t normally gush, but I have been to the Ayala show half a dozen times and I have yet to get over my enthusiasm.
On my last visit, I spent a lot of time in front of a computer screen. I ignored the gold because what the Ayala Museum now also has is a “virtual copy” of the Boxer Codex. This untitled late 16th century manuscript is one of the treasures in the Lilly Library in the University of Indiana in Bloomington, and Filipinos don’t have to go abroad to consult this wonderful illuminated manuscript presently known under the name of its former owner, the eminent English historian C.R. Boxer (1904-2000), one of the authorities on Asia in his time.
Fifteen years ago, I was invited to lunch at Boxer’s home outside London, and he told me with a wide smile how he purchased this treasure cheaply at an auction in the late 1940s. It was listed as an 18th century manuscript on Asia in the catalogue and Boxer sent in a bid of 40 pounds—and forgot about it. Some weeks later, the manuscript arrived in the mail. When Boxer opened the package to examine the new acquisition, he realized that the auction house cataloguer was mistaken and he had stumbled on an unpublished sixteenth century manuscript. Seeing the manuscript on a computer screen in the Ayala Museum brought back memories of that wonderful lunch and the chance to handle the original manuscript.
I went to the museum to look at the text of the manuscript because somewhere on its margins is an illustration of a “penis implement” first mentioned in Antonio Pigafetta’s account of the Magellan expedition. I ask my students to draw this based on the text and the results are some of the most amazing drawings from their hormone-fed imaginations. In the Boxer Codex we at least have an idea of what this mysterious thing looks like. I was not disappointed.
After this, I went over the illustrations. While there are other printed and manuscript sources on the Philippines, what makes the Boxer Codex stand out are the detailed colored illustrations of sixteenth century Filipinos embellished with gold leaf showing their clothing and ornamentation. Boxer was of the opinion that such a fine illuminated manuscript was custom-made for an important personage in Spanish Philippines, probably the governor-general or even the archbishop of Manila. The manuscript covers Cagayan, Zambales, the Tagalog areas, Visayas and sections of neighboring Indonesia and even China. Some of the illustrations have been widely reproduced in books and have even been used on bathroom curtains and T-shirts.
The Boxer Codex is particularly important with regard to the clothing and ornaments of 16th century Philippines. It shows not only how different ethno-linguistic groups at the point of contact with the West dressed, but more importantly how gold jewelry excavated in archeological sites in the last century were worn.
Most early Spanish accounts of the Philippines mention gold jewelry. Pigafetta was the first to describe pre-Spanish, pre-colonial gold.
In recent years, many gold artifacts have been found in archeological sites all over the Philippines. Unfortunately, these were looted by pot-hunters. Thus taken out of their context, it is difficult to know how these gold pieces were once worn and what other materials were associated with the gold.
Different Spanish accounts provide descriptions of the jewelry and sometimes even note what the various earrings, chains, bracelets, rings, anklets, armlets, leg-lets and toe-lets were called. With both text and illustrations, the Boxer Codex makes it easier for scholars to study pre-colonial gold.
The Ayala Museum gold differs from that of the BSP because the artifacts are supplemented by illustrations all done in an age before the digital camera. Thus the Boxer Codex illustrations can be used for other contemporary accounts, for example Antonio de Morga’s “Sucesos de las islas Filipinas” (Mexico, 1609) which describes the clothing of the male inhabitants of Luzon thus: “chains of gold wound round the neck, worked like spun wax and with links in our fashion, some larger than others, bracelets on the arms which they call “calombigas,” made of gold very thick and of different patterns, and some with strings of stones, carnelians and agates and others of blue and white stones which are much esteemed among them.”
We can only hope that other illustrated 16th century accounts of the Philippines and the Filipinos will come to light in years to come. But for the moment, the richest and earliest visual manuscript on the Philippines in terms of detail and beauty is the Boxer Codex which documents the Philippines, literally, in a Golden Age.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 00:17:00 09/12/2008
MANILA, Philippines—Billed as “the exhibit you waited a thousand years to see,” the Ayala Museum Gold Room is worth a visit. All that glitters is gold—pre-Spanish gold, that is, jewelry made by our ancestors that is jaw-dropping. Before the Ayala Museum exhibit, one already marveled at the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas Gold Room, a walk-in vault underneath the Metropolitan Museum. This display in quantity and the quality of its presentation set a new benchmark for curatorial design. I don’t normally gush, but I have been to the Ayala show half a dozen times and I have yet to get over my enthusiasm.
On my last visit, I spent a lot of time in front of a computer screen. I ignored the gold because what the Ayala Museum now also has is a “virtual copy” of the Boxer Codex. This untitled late 16th century manuscript is one of the treasures in the Lilly Library in the University of Indiana in Bloomington, and Filipinos don’t have to go abroad to consult this wonderful illuminated manuscript presently known under the name of its former owner, the eminent English historian C.R. Boxer (1904-2000), one of the authorities on Asia in his time.
Fifteen years ago, I was invited to lunch at Boxer’s home outside London, and he told me with a wide smile how he purchased this treasure cheaply at an auction in the late 1940s. It was listed as an 18th century manuscript on Asia in the catalogue and Boxer sent in a bid of 40 pounds—and forgot about it. Some weeks later, the manuscript arrived in the mail. When Boxer opened the package to examine the new acquisition, he realized that the auction house cataloguer was mistaken and he had stumbled on an unpublished sixteenth century manuscript. Seeing the manuscript on a computer screen in the Ayala Museum brought back memories of that wonderful lunch and the chance to handle the original manuscript.
I went to the museum to look at the text of the manuscript because somewhere on its margins is an illustration of a “penis implement” first mentioned in Antonio Pigafetta’s account of the Magellan expedition. I ask my students to draw this based on the text and the results are some of the most amazing drawings from their hormone-fed imaginations. In the Boxer Codex we at least have an idea of what this mysterious thing looks like. I was not disappointed.
After this, I went over the illustrations. While there are other printed and manuscript sources on the Philippines, what makes the Boxer Codex stand out are the detailed colored illustrations of sixteenth century Filipinos embellished with gold leaf showing their clothing and ornamentation. Boxer was of the opinion that such a fine illuminated manuscript was custom-made for an important personage in Spanish Philippines, probably the governor-general or even the archbishop of Manila. The manuscript covers Cagayan, Zambales, the Tagalog areas, Visayas and sections of neighboring Indonesia and even China. Some of the illustrations have been widely reproduced in books and have even been used on bathroom curtains and T-shirts.
The Boxer Codex is particularly important with regard to the clothing and ornaments of 16th century Philippines. It shows not only how different ethno-linguistic groups at the point of contact with the West dressed, but more importantly how gold jewelry excavated in archeological sites in the last century were worn.
Most early Spanish accounts of the Philippines mention gold jewelry. Pigafetta was the first to describe pre-Spanish, pre-colonial gold.
In recent years, many gold artifacts have been found in archeological sites all over the Philippines. Unfortunately, these were looted by pot-hunters. Thus taken out of their context, it is difficult to know how these gold pieces were once worn and what other materials were associated with the gold.
Different Spanish accounts provide descriptions of the jewelry and sometimes even note what the various earrings, chains, bracelets, rings, anklets, armlets, leg-lets and toe-lets were called. With both text and illustrations, the Boxer Codex makes it easier for scholars to study pre-colonial gold.
The Ayala Museum gold differs from that of the BSP because the artifacts are supplemented by illustrations all done in an age before the digital camera. Thus the Boxer Codex illustrations can be used for other contemporary accounts, for example Antonio de Morga’s “Sucesos de las islas Filipinas” (Mexico, 1609) which describes the clothing of the male inhabitants of Luzon thus: “chains of gold wound round the neck, worked like spun wax and with links in our fashion, some larger than others, bracelets on the arms which they call “calombigas,” made of gold very thick and of different patterns, and some with strings of stones, carnelians and agates and others of blue and white stones which are much esteemed among them.”
We can only hope that other illustrated 16th century accounts of the Philippines and the Filipinos will come to light in years to come. But for the moment, the richest and earliest visual manuscript on the Philippines in terms of detail and beauty is the Boxer Codex which documents the Philippines, literally, in a Golden Age.
* * *
Comments are welcome at aocampo@ateneo.edu.
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