Introduction and Interview Gabrielle de la Cruz
Images Patrick Kasingsing
The recent burning of the Manila Post Office served as another wake-up call for the Philippine heritage preservation system. Heritage advocates and concerned citizens expressed their sentiments over the incident and calls to save the building continue to dominate social media as of writing.
As we wait for the proper measures and stay in the fight for the building’s rebirth, Kanto invited architects and heritage advocates to discuss more of the heritage structures within the metro that are at risk of demolition or heavy alteration. Part of our fight for heritage is to prevent more iconic structures from suffering from accidents, falling apart, losing their identity, or worse, completely being torn down.
Here are two heritage structures within the metro that we must keep an eye on, according to industry professionals and members of the architecture, design, and heritage community:
Folk Arts Theater, Cultural Center of the Philippines, Pasay City
Tina Paterno and Erik Akpedonu, who are the President and Treasurer of the International Council of Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS) Philippines respectively, cite The Folk Arts Theater by National Artist Leandro Locsin as among the works of modern built heritage that are most at risk of demolition. Akpedonu shares that “the building is in an advanced stage of decay and there have been persistent rumors that it is scheduled for demolition and redevelopment.” Paterno adds that what makes this alarming is the message that the demolition sends and the dangerous precedent this sets. “The Folk Arts Theater is part of an assemblage of Leandro Locsin’s most celebrated works within the CCP complex. Works by a National Artist are legally protected as Important Cultural Property. Deleting part of this significant assemblage changes the relationship within the complex, subtracts from the body of the artist’s most important work, and says to the public that this is okay.”
The Folk Arts Theater “was built in the incredible record time of 77 days (using prefabricated elements, of course. but still impressive) and still contains the longest free span anywhere in the Philippines (or so I was told),” Akpedonu says. He adds that what makes this structure noteworthy is the fact that it is a ‘masa‘ counterpart of the ‘elite’ Tanghalang Pambansa and is the site for many critical state-organized festivities such as the 1974 Miss Universe Pageant.”
“The CCP is more than just the famous Theater of Performing Arts. Its other composite buildings (Philcite, International Convention Center, Film Theater, Folk Theater, Coconut Palace, Hotel Complex) are as important and indispensable,” Akpedonu continues. “The entire site must be understood as an integrated whole whose components all function in unison, forming the heart and soul of iconic Marcos era state architecture, a cultural acropolis dedicated to the Marcoses’ grand agenda of `bread and games’. In fact, the whole complex should be declared a heritage zone immediately.”
What then, would be ideal conservation or resurrection moves for the structure?
Akpedonu suggests “to convert the whole building into a covered skateboard and inline skating practice ground and arena” in line with the structure’s masa appeal and present needs. He envisions it as “a place where the youth of Manila, hopelessly starved of public green spaces, let alone publicly-accessible sports grounds, can hone their skills and talents in a shaded, protected, and pretty cool environment.” Though not a similar structure, the ICOMOS treasurer cites the Kesselbrink Square in Bielefeld, Germany, which was transformed from a dreary parking lot into a popular meeting place for the city youth. “We commonly associate skating grounds with rolling concrete forms, something which the CCP (and the Folk Arts Theater in particular) already provide in abundance – a perfect marriage!”
Paterno, on the other hand, points to the 1996 restoration of the Philippine International Convention Center (PICC) as an example. “If that space is no longer applicable to the current proposed then it has to adapt. I really believe we’re limited only by imagination here, and in many ways, I believe more creativity is required in restoration because design constraints are more challenging. One would have to honor the design intent, maintain its distinguishing forms and features, and then carve out new uses to serve the present need. The green movement has taken to architecture very strongly, and I wish people would truly recognize that the greenest building is a restored building.”
Ramon Cojuangco Building, Makati City
Continuing on the conversation on Locsin’s body of work, architect Eldry Infante, who is among the team behind the visual database Brutalist Pilipinas, reminds that the Ramon Cojuangco Building “was the subject of a petition last year to remove its presumption as an Important Cultural Property (ICP), a merit it holds as a work of a national artist.” The Ramon Cojuangco Building was the site of the Philippines’ first internet connection in 1994. The petitioners described the structure as “generic” and “lacking the distinctive style of Locsin.” Infante explains that such petitions for ICPs “usually spell big trouble, especially if the building is located in cities where urban growth is so fast and heritage structures are seen as outdated pieces that need to be plucked.”
“With the option of opposing the petition, we at Brutalist Pilipinas and Jean-Claude Girard, the author of Locsin’s latest monograph and a foreigner with much respect for his work, wrote separate position papers. Both described the many qualities of the building omitted by the petition report,” the architect continues. “The National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) is yet to release its decision. We hope it’s a positive one given the many works of Locsin, other national artists, and other heritage structures in the metro razed from the ground in the past decades despite strong opposition by the heritage community.”
Infante lists down three tragic realities should we lose the RCB which the petitioners deemed disposable:
1. It continues the successive erasure of Locsin’s structures which denies the future generation a chance to study and experience them.
2. It breeds more complacency in developers that they can touch any heritage structure, including works by our best architects and national artists, without retribution.
3. It gives the public a narrative that urban progress is always about deletion.
So, what can we do to further protect RCB’s ICP designation?
“The petition never mentioned a concern about structural integrity, so RCB is a sound candidate for redevelopment,” Infante reveals. “Sustainable parameters can be adapted to the 50-year-old building’s already tropical climate-sensitive design. Its wide ledges and terraced decks are chances to introduce greenery for cooling and employee well-being. The open-floor layout of the offices is already an invitation for flexibility to adapt new office planning concepts and needs. Material wise, high-performing products for glazing and interior surfaces can be applied with sensitivity to Locsin’s characteristic design.”
He adds that “it is also important that the building, being an important work of Philippine architecture, among many other merits, be part of the public’s psyche.” This means that “information about the RCB’s significance at micro and macro levels should be displayed for the common folk to appreciate and learn. It should be treated not as a stiff monument but as a structure that values continuity and respect for the past.” Infante underscores that “successful adaptive reuse is not only about what is done within the bounds of the building, maybe more important, is how the public and occupants learn to love and care for it.”
When asked what good case studies or examples of adaptive reuse for a similar building typology are suited for the RCB, Infante mentioned the redevelopment of Bell Labs Holmdel Complex designed by Finnish-American architect Eero Saarinen. “It is built for a massive 6000-work force and 1962 but became tenantless in the early 2000s. When it was listed under the Endangered Sites in New Jersey, former Bell employees rallied for the redevelopment of the building – a testament that community effort is really a big part of the success story,” he narrates. “A pioneer redeveloper entered and revamped the building into a space for wellness, recreation, living, and work. They gave a refreshed meaning to the building space, updated utilities, and injected functions with so much care and respect for Saarinen’s intent and material exploration. There are these incredibly generous atriums at the heart of the building which they realigned into public spaces of interaction and community building.”
“Luckily, we do have success stories here in our country every now and then. A good story is still happening in the creative community of Escolta in Manila: the reactivation of the First United Building or Perez-Samanillo Building designed by Andres P. Luna,” Infante adds. “It was repopulated by tenants of lively creative people slash stewards together with the building owners themselves. The project capitalized on the historic significance of being a world war survivor, its famous past tenants, and its location. The reactivation efforts also spread among the other historically-tied establishments and buildings along Escolta Street and sparked curiosity among the public sustained through various events.”
Towards the end of the conversations, Akpedonu, Infante, and Paterno were asked why is it harder for developers, LGUs, and society, in general, to treat modern built heritage with the same reverence and value given to the likes of colonial architecture. Below are their statements:
Akpedonu: It is a common misconception that developers, LGUs, and society, in general, have more reverence for the old than for the new. The truth is, Spanish and American colonial heritage is generally treated with much the same negligent cavalier attitude and ignorance as is modern heritage, if not worse. In fact, Modernist heritage has a higher chance of survival today than colonial one, due to more sturdy materials (reinforced concrete rather than adobe, brick, or wood) and usually much larger floor areas, which make them economically more sustainable than the comparatively small Spanish- and American-era buildings. Their open floor plans also make it much easier to adaptively reuse them than the relatively inflexible pre-war structures.
Infante: I think because colonial architecture is always associated with history, the OLD, and building craftsmanship that is now all gone. The Spanish and American colonial eras produced buildings of many scales that the general public perceives as awe-inspiring, grandiose, with distinct characters. As a person from the architecture industry, I can easily associate those qualities with modernist examples, but the non-archi people just don’t, evidently. Buildings of the last 50 years may have not yet penetrated into our public’s heritage meter even though the early senior bracket has lived through these. I’m not well aware of the deeper sociological and/or cultural forces that affect this phenomenon but based on my time doing architectural documentation for brutalist structures, information will always trigger curiosity and retrospection.
Other issues that I can think of are the valuation of land over structure, the surviving construction techniques that prompt easy alterations, and the lack of rarity associated with modern buildings.
Paterno: It’s not just in the Philippines, this is true globally, too. I think there is generally a reverence for very old things, especially if they are grand, and where their form, construction materials, and techniques are so vastly different from our world today – think the bahay na bato and churches. I think there is still less reverence for younger buildings especially those constructed within our lifetimes, with still familiar building materials and technologies. Additionally, we are still defining what constitutes modern heritage, and our own laws are still unclear on that. The world is also going through this discourse while pursuing initiatives to ensure these buildings are included in the universe of what is considered heritage. •
Watch out for part two of Conservation Conversations. The fight goes on. Our hopes for heritage continue.
Gabrielle de la Cruz started writing about architecture and design in 2019. She previously wrote for BluPrint magazine and was trained under the leadership of then editor-in-chief Judith Torres and previous creative director Patrick Kasingsing. Read more of her work here and follow her on Instagram @gabbie.delacruz.
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