The Churches of Camarines Sur, 1578-1898:
Encounter, Negotiation and Accommodation
in Local Church Architecture in a Philippine Province

This article is a revised version of a paper (“The Churches of Camarines Sur, 1578-1898: Elements of Fil-Hispanic Fusion in Local Church Architecture in a Philippine Province”) delivered at the 2 nd EUROSEAS Conference, 3-6 September 1998, University of Hamburg , Germany . Data for this paper was largely drawn from the author's M.A. thesis, “An Architectural History of the Churches of Camarines Sur, 1578-1898,” 1990.

Marilyn R. Canta

Camarines Sur lies at the heart of the Bikol peninsula in the southeastern part of Luzon Island , Philippines. Records indicate that in 1570, the Spaniards had their earliest encounter with the local people in the province in the areas known as Calilingo and Bua, the origins of present-day Bato and Nabua, respectively.

Following well-tested strategies for colonization, the Spaniards gathered existing communities into contained areas, or reducciones . Eventually, these would become “founded” as towns, contingent of course, on their meeting the basic requirements of a “township,” such as a population of at least two thousand persons or 500 taxpayers, the “beginnings of Spanish living”, and a willingness to adopt the Spanish system of military and civilian administration.

With the “beginnings of Spanish living,” several architectural structures were expected. These included, among others, a municipal hall, a convent, and a stone church. Yet towns had in fact been put up even without this last prerequisite, although normatively, it would eventually be erected at a later date. Church building was dependent on many factors—funding, availability of materials, labor and professional expertise, even the charism of the local priest. At the same time, there was also the dynamics of the encounter of local with foreign culture.

The question of the nature of this encounter is necessarily one which involves defining changes arising from contact between different cultures. In this paper, we are especially interested in the nature of negotiations and accommodations made by the Camarines Sur artist to cultural impositions from the colonizer. Arising as resolutions to cultural tensions, these accommodations manifested themselves in a variety of ways in many aspects of life, of which architectural practice was one.

Colonization and Architectural Practice

Basic therefore to this discussion is the idea of architectural practice in the context of colonization. Colonization presupposes what anthropologists would refer to as “directed change,” insofar as it involves one people establishing dominance over the other through military conquest, political domination, or some other means of control. This type of acculturation often predicates the need to change to some degree the way of life of the dominated group, usually in conformity with that of the dominant culture. As such, tensions are bound to occur. But colonization does not only manifest itself as a mere political strategy; it also has its myriad consequences on life and culture.

In the Philippines in general, and Camarines Sur in particular, colonization meant a considerable degree of control over the life of the dominated culture. Within less than a generation, for example, the image of pre-colonial Filipino settlements distributed along coastal areas would be transformed into townships planned (more or less) according to the prescriptions of the Hispanic master plan with its iglesia-convento-plaza-palacio complex. While we cannot go into the details of this phenomenon, it should be clear that architecturally, colonization pre-empted not only a proliferation of and preference for the architectural structures of the colonizers, but perhaps, also a subscription to their aesthetics.

Philippine history textbooks are replete with statements about Spanish colonization's being propelled by the three Gs, i.e. , God, gold, and glory—a reference to the goals of Christianization, economic gain, and political predominance, respectively. In the matter of the islands' conversion to Christianity, it was clear that the institution of the new religion would require the appurtenances, so to speak, of its propagation, maintenance and support. This was where the church—in its various functions as place of worship, social and catechetical center, symbol of secular and spiritual power, etc—would find its significance.

While records are rife with instances of various forms of resistance to aspects of colonial administration in the Islands, the Spaniards nevertheless succeeded in making a colony of the Philippines . This concession to Spanish authority helped to transform native attitudes and sensibilities to one more attuned to the culture of the colonizers. In time, these accommodations would lead to further “naturalization” of the “Hispanic” way of life.

In this manner, the colonial situation provided the arena for native builders to come to terms with the architectural requirements of their own indigenous traditions as well as those of their colonizers.

Architectural Response

As mentioned earlier, accommodations often occur as resolutions to cultural tensions. In Camarines Sur, these tensions engendered by the colonial encounter are necessary to understanding the “fused” character of its local architecture. The term used to describe it is “Fil-Hispanic,” implying the inclusion of elements from both cultures and resulting thus in a mestizo or hybrid character. We say this because as we shall see later, the architectural response was never really assimilationist (that is, tending towards a total adoption of the new forms), nor was it totally reactionary (in the sense of a contrary, often radical, response towards aspects of the culture of the dominating group). These negotiations in architectural practice were seen associated with settlement patterns, worship practices, and building traditions.

Settlement Patterns

The picture of native settlements changed with Spanish colonization. Its loose distribution over an area near coastal or riverine waters, and its strong kinship base were transformed into larger, contained communities of people not necessarily linked by blood, although they retained their closeness to bodies of water. While some communities in the Philippines were noted to be fortified by stone walls or wooden palisades, this did not seem to be true for the Camarines Sur area.

In the colonized settlements, the church stood with convent and municipal hall near the plaza as symbols of supposed “assimilation.” In fact, settlements had to be gathered within hearing distance of the church bells, which were rang to signal important moments in the life of the community. The church was not mere structure but was a symbol of power—both temporal and spiritual. In any town, it was the most impressive human structure. It rose over the stone and wooden structures of government and the local elite, as well as the thatched huts of the rest of the population. Its presence reiterated the subjugation of the town to Spanish rule and gave the impression of the local culture's being truly assimilated.

Implications of the new settlement patterns on architectural practice may be seen in the following examples:

1. concepts of environmental space ( e.g. “loose”/“open” plan of indigenous communities vs. “structured”/ “contained” reducciones ; ideas of “nearness” or “farness” indicated perhaps by visually sighted structures within expanses of space (“hangga't tanaw ng mga mata”) as opposed to the concept “bajo de las campanas” (“within hearing distance of the church bells”));
2. perceptions of structural dimensions ( e.g. relative concepts associated with “small” vs. “large”, as in the bahay kubo vs. kamalig vs. iglesia );
3. symbolic associations of spatial settings ( e.g, concepts of space and social status (as when elite secular structures are a stone's throw away from churches), or possible relationships between indigenous sacred grounds and sites for Christian worship);
4. environmental/ structural elements to direct/control social behavior ( e.g. appurtenances of ritual spaces in indigenous vs. Christian contexts (such as makeshift vs. permanent altars), access to church sites through rivers and estuaries vs. paved streets, absence of structures for itinerant merchants vs. semi-fixed or fixed areas of commerce near church premises); and
5. the nature of structures required by the new lifestyle ( e.g. churches, cemeteries).

In other words, many adjustments had to be made by the local populace to fit into this new schema of “town living.” Consequently, the new settlement patterns would have their effects on worship practices and building traditions.

Worship Practices

Tensions in traditions of worship also had their repercussions in architectural practice in the province. One has merely to compare the indigenous sambahan (place of worship) to the colonial iglesia (church) for these to become apparent.

For one, while indigenous worship required ritual sites, these were changeable and did not require infrastructure. Records describe the pre-Spanish sambahan as a section of a house, a mere open space, or an impermanent structure that could be erected and knocked down at short notice. In the latter case, the structure was used mainly as an altar while the outlying area around the altar was left open. While worshippers may have been oriented towards the altar, the fact that many rites were held in the open would have contributed to an ambience freer and less confined. The backdrop of nature's mountains and skies, as well as the palm groves nearby, would have figured as much in their religious practices as would the gilded retablos (retables or altar screens) of the later age.

The demands of Christian worship, on the other hand, often required infrastructure that could house a large population of believers. In addition, this had to be situated in a fixed site. While the rectangular or cross plan of these churches also made for an orientation directed towards the main altar, this was in contrast to the more diffused orientation of the indigenous sambahan .

The adjustments to structure in worship practices are probably more psychological than formal. The local population had now to think of themselves as filling up the fixed and confined spaces of the church that were certainly of a different quality from the open, changing, and ambiguous spaces of traditional worship practices. Where the setting for indigenous worship also saw the self as indistinct from the surroundings or inversely, saw the environment as an extension of human-made structures, now with the colonial church, natives were made more conscious of humanly-created structures which could separate them from the environment.

Building Traditions

However, this delay in building was not only a matter of materials but most likely also involved the state of knowledge of methods of building in stone, which the indigenous population did not initially have. Again, records indicate that in the 16 th century, only a single church of solid materials was built. Three were built in the 17 th century, nine in the 18 th , and seven in the 19 th . The 18 th century, a period of some two centuries after the arrival of the Spaniards, would presuppose a certain facility with and acceptance of working in stone. This could partly explain this century's particular conduciveness to church building.

Church building also required knowledge of skills and processes associated with the new building practices. Fortunately, these could be learned and taught. We have heard of instances of residents from Camarines Sur towns being sent to Manila for apprenticeship in masonry or tile making. They were, of course, expected to teach the same on their return to their hometowns.

In the construction of the church tower of Bombon town, the mediation of local talent was crucial. The tower as seen today is slightly tilted due to the unevenness of the first tiers, according to one account ; and to bad cementing and terrain problems, according to another. This tilting was already apparent after two tiers had been put up and so work on it was suspended. Yet some months after this (at which time the parish was without a priest), the local architects ( arquitectos indios ) of the town decided to finish the tower. They superimposed the third and fourth tiers and even the pyramidal cupola. The audacity of the local builders to finish the rest of the tower in the absence of their resident parish priest could of course only have come from a confidence in their abilities. We can however only guess what the new parish priest's reaction was to such an enterprise.

However, the local builders did not understand all constructional techniques. Here, we must remark on the total absence of vaults or domes in the Camarines Sur churches. Instead, we observe ceilings in wood or metal sheets that approximated the shape of vaults. Other constructional problems involved the positioning of belfries and towers over trussed roofs. It appears that solutions to this were dealt with later since integral belfries date only to the 19 th century. The tower over the crossing was also generally avoided, although we see them as later developments.

It seems that an important consideration in the introduction of the new materials and technology was its associations with the permanent. Stone and/or brick constructions were favored because, as was pointed out earlier, they meant stronger and more long-lasting structures. This of course was at a different tangent to the tentative quality of materials in the local building tradition.

For example, during the latter part of the 18 th century, a teacher was sent to Manila to learn how to make tiles and to be ready to bake the first batch upon his return. To facilitate this, Bp. Antonio Gallegos (also known as Bp. Orbigo) had already earlier purchased six limekilns. See Maria Lourdes Diaz-Trechuelo, Arquitectura Española en Filipinas, 1565-1800 . (Sevilla: La Escuela de Estudios Hispano-Americanos de Sevilla, 1959), p. 349.

This native tendency towards the “impermanent” in fact, remains evident even in current practice. This is obvious, for example, in the assignment of functions, not originally in the western blueprint, to certain church parts. Transepts for the clergy now house additional pews for the congregation, or are converted into meeting rooms or baptisteries. Earlier, a baptistery could be housed on the ground level of the tower, while in the west, it was often a separate structure. But today, hardly any of the baptisteries are housed in the towers, nor are they separate structures. Instead, a baptismal font is provided for in some portion of the church, such as near the entrance or along one part of the nave. While in mass baptisms, we have a situation where the ritual will be done near the chancel rail (if it exists), where not even a baptismal font is required.

The idea of a church was admittedly a new concept that came as an offshoot of Christianization. While we may assume to a certain degree the mediation of western culture in the design of these churches, evidence will also reveal their uniqueness as structures. At any rate, by the end of the 19 th century, church builders would have been privy to a large repertoire of designs from the traditions of the west, especially the Iberian, and the New World . But we must not discount the possible influences of models closer to home—particularly those in Manila or neighboring provincial capitals. Certainly, local artistic traditions would also find their way into this repertoire. It is therefore not uncommon to find mixed or hybrid elements in the churches' design. Only further research can reveal whether these mixtures were merely arbitrary or more contrived than we think.

Typology

Stylistically, the churches of Camarines Sur may be described to conform to three general types which we here propose to call the “barn style,” the “incipient baroque style,” and the “Partido baroque style.” Due to a marked homogeneity in the use of materials, constructional systems, and other architectural features, and the virtual absence of evidence of interior architectural ornamentation (which could have been used as another determinant of style), the façades become in fact the main indicators of stylistic differences. The first two styles manifest more extensively the tensions between local and foreign sensibilities. In the third style, a more thorough blending of the features may be seen.

Barn style

The simplest of the three styles, the barn style is characterized by a façade which consists of a rectangular plane surmounted by a strictly triangular pediment. The term has reference to Pal Kelemen's account of the earliest church structures in Latin American, which he described as “barn like.” The style conforms to a symmetrically balanced scheme where an imaginary line may be seen to run through the main door to form the vertical, and a stringcourse or frieze the horizontal, axes relative to which all the elements of the façade are positioned. Decorative elements may consist of triglyphs and metopes, rosettes, interlocking circles and diamonds; but these are usually limited to the friezes. Sometimes, we may find a smattering of relief sculpture in floral patterns in the area of the keystones of the arched doorways and fenestrations. This sparse ornamentation leaves a significant area of empty planes around the area of the doors and windows.

To see these barn style churches is a relatively effortless experience. The façade is honestly two-dimensional and the placement of apertures, predictable. Now and then, we see efforts to divert our attention from this overall simplicity. Yet they gain in charm because of this seeming naiveté. The town churches of Bombon, Camaligan, and Goa may typify the style.

Incipient baroque style

The term “incipient baroque” was first coined by Fr. Pedro Galende to describe certain Augustinian churches in the Philippines . The style, according to him, is one characterized by moderate decorative traits seen, for example, in the “soft curvature of pediments,” “capricious lines without exaggeration,” or the “undulating lines and down turned, scroll-like decoration in the pediments.” The term “baroque” as used in this sense is undoubtedly a reference to the creation of rich effects through ornamentation. In Camarines Sur, these “baroque” elements are visible to a limited extent. What should however be given due emphasis here is the term “incipient.” In Camarines Sur, the expression is almost synonymous to the word “experimentation.”

Manifestations of this experimentation may be seen, for example, in the blurring of the division of the façade into distinct horizontal levels and the loss of the pediment's characteristic triangular shape. Stringcourses, which divide the façade into several storeys may be absent or may appear with slight variations, such as curves or jags. The division into floors may also be asymmetrical, as one floor may be taller than the other. Fenestrations, niches, or multiple mouldings that stretch horizontally, though not necessarily always continuously, across the plane of the façade suggest these different levels. Pediments, in turn, may appear with columns or pilasters running vertically across them. They may be curved on the apex or along the slopes. Churches in the incipient baroque style also use large square or rounded engaged columns that reach up to or exceed the cornices of the pediment. These may rest on plinths or may be topped by finials of urn, knob, and pyramid. Surface elements are less predictable and ornamentation may include more ornate capitals, heraldic symbols, and decorative consoles.

Altogether, the incipient baroque style spells a relatively greater amount of formal experimentation than the barn style. There are more ornamental elements although these are not heavy in the traditional baroque manner. The placement of apertures on the surface is less fixed although still strongly balanced. These elements struggle to suggest ideas of varying levels and depths, but fail to veer the composition away from its predominantly two-dimensional surface quality.

These various experimentations in form are perhaps an attempt at greater sophistication, but unfortunately make for rather awkward combinations. While individual elements catch our eye because of their uniqueness, collectively they do not blend well with each other. The disposal of the elements is indecisive and even disparate. Examples of this style may be seen in the churches of Nabua, Buhi, Calabanga, Pili, Baao, or Magarao.

Crucial to the tensions in the incipient baroque style is the attempt to deny the two-dimensional quality of the façade through surface decoration. Could this perhaps be the aesthetic of indigenous architecture holding on? For what the early bahay kubo (thatched huts) or kamalig (granary) had in flatness, they tried to make up for in textures. Native grasses allowed for intricate lattice work and engaging weaving patterns which made the surfaces less planar and although not exactly volumetric, were neither exactly flat. With stone and brick, these variations in surface quality were more difficult to do. Apparently, the local masons were not able to exploit, say, the mosaic-like patterns of masonry that were popular in western medieval styles. The obvious choice was architectural ornamentation, which seemed to dictate its application to specific areas, and not to the entire surface. Where and how to put this ornamentation then seemed to be the dilemma of the local artist.

Partido baroque style

Partido is a district in the southeastern part of Camarines Sur composed of the towns of Sagñay, San Jose , Lagonoy, Goa and Tigaon. It is home to a few churches (Sagñay, San Jose , and Lagonoy) that display similar architectural features. The expression “Partido baroque” was arbitrarily derived from the commonalities existing among these churches. Apart from these three Partido towns, the style may also be seen in the Naga Cathedral. Unlike its more tentative counterparts in the incipient baroque style, churches in the Partido baroque style have a more unified aspect. For example, decorative elements may not be radically different from the incipient baroque style, yet their application on the church's façade is more decisive and integrated.

This seems to be the only other church in an area other than Partido that conforms to the general characteristics of the “Partido baroque style.” It might be interesting to note that the present façade of the Naga Cathedral dates to the years from 1816-1843, a date almost simultaneous with the San Jose church, supposedly built in the 1820s. Moreover, on impression, one sees strong similarities between the Partido baroque style churches and that of Morong. Could this church in fact, have been the origin of this style?

Others

Other churches, such of those of Bato and Tigaon, (classified in an earlier work with the incipient and Partido baroque styles, respectively) are more difficult to categorize. A look at their present façades will show them to exhibit elements that may well classify them under a neo-classical style. But these appear to be 20 th century developments. Unless new data is unearthed, discussions on their typology remain for the most part, tentative.

Summary

Most of the churches standing today date to around the 19 th century and represent all the Camarines Sur styles we mentioned. Because of this, we are unable to ascertain whether one style “evolved” into another or whether they were independent simultaneous developments. Nevertheless, in all these three styles, we notice the relative shallowness of the quality of these churches' architectural ornamentation, very much in contrast to the deep, three-dimensional forms of the west. It has also been observed that this graphic quality equally applies to many Philippine sculptural objects. Even among the Southeast Asian peoples, the Philippines ' indigenous sculptures are said to be of the shallowest depth. It thus appears that a major theme in local church design and construction had to do with resolving tensions between the planar and the plastic, the former being a tendency in traditional aesthetics and the latter, an infusion of the new.

Other aesthetic attitudes that were affected by the encounter between the old and new building traditions include those related to proportion and spatiality. Earlier, amateur measurements were made of these churches. Variations occur, but the overriding tendency indicates altitudes that are less than their latitudes by a quarter or so, resulting in churches noticeable for their squatness. Relative to the proportions of indigenous structures which have always been rather intimate, the church was of course, large. Yet a comparison of the Camarines Sur churches to some of its counterparts in other regions (for example, in the Ilocos region) will show them to be “small.” Various reasons have been put forward to account for this difference—local economic conditions, level of technology, availability of materials, native aesthetics, the “Franciscan spirit,” even the character of the Bikolano. It might be interesting to explore them further.

It appears that the native sensibility also contributed to the tendency to look at space as something to be merely enclosed rather than manipulated and organized. Space is seen as a void which after enclosing needs only be filled up. It is not given to interacting with other spaces and solids around it. This may partly explain the simple rectangular plans adopted by many of the churches in the area, which Winand Klassen attributes to the Franciscan ethic. Cruciform churches, which had been common in Europe since the medieval period, seem to have been adopted in the Philippines only in the 19 th -century. Philippine colonial churches also appear to have been influenced by the “Jesuit plan,” which had been traditional in Spain since the 13 th century and the preferred form in the New World . While such churches may on occasion be found in the Philippines , there is no evidence to indicate its presence in Camarines Sur. The penchant for simple plans could be a carryover from indigenous structures that often consisted of a single-room arranged along plain rectangular or square plans. Different functions (of eating, sleeping, socializing, etc.) were met by the same space.

It must also be remembered that as a rule, church building projects were done under rather strained conditions. Because labor intensive, the Spanish government had a system of forced labor which was in marked contrast to the largely voluntary and communal character of building projects in many indigenous societies (although there have been instances where a voluntary spirit also applied to building churches). Further studies could enlighten us on how this “tense” building condition affected actual building practices.

Conclusion

As we look back to the three centuries under the Spaniards, we must acknowledge their success in imposing upon the local culture aspects of their culture. In many Philippine towns, vestiges of Hispanic culture, typified by local architectural forms, are manifest even today. However, we must not make haste to conclude that these represent indiscriminate assimilation of Iberian models. In fact, an examination of these structures in Camarines Sur indicates a tendency towards incorporating architectural elements associated with local traditions—an expression perhaps of the need to assert one's identity as a people. However, these compromises were not immediate but were made over a period of time. It involved a reorientation of attitudes towards structures and their meanings, technical training, and an ingraining of the new aesthetics. The result therefore has often been syncretic and selective rather than totally assimilative or reactive, a fusion that is perhaps another unique expression of what it means to be Filipino.

Today, many Philippine communities are beginning to experience a change in the local landscape. In the urban areas, skyscrapers are filling the horizon, persistent images of a new way of life. Meanwhile, in less urbanized areas like Camarines Sur, the church still looms over the town—on hindsight, a steadfast reminder of an era when negotiations between cultures were still relevant and possible.

As we step into the post-modern world of globalizing cultures, should we perhaps ask ourselves whether such negotiations are possible or relevant at all? By now, it should be evident that it is not only architecture which is at stake.