A 'Kyoto house' overlooking the mines
We return this week to Baguio and to another 1960s summer home, after I received more than the usual amount of e-mail feedback on the Cojuangco residence and the feature on sports and the city’s centennial.
First, an update and not so-good news on the Cojuangco house: L. Oscar e-mailed me: “I read your Aug. 29 article in the Philippine STAR regarding the house of Mr. and Mrs. Juan Cojuangco. It brought back memories of old Baguio. I grew up in Baguio in the 1960s and I used to see this house. Now that I am a resident of Manila, I seldom go up to Baguio anymore. But when I read your article, something in me told me that it was time to visit Baguio again.”
Oscar continues, “I got to Baguio after a trip to La Union… and when I got there I hired a taxi and went around to visit my boyhood haunts. Baguio is not the old Baguio, which I grew up with. When I went to visit the old Cojuangco house featured in your article, I really felt very sad, for it is now fenced with galvanized sheets and is being demolished. The property was bought by Koreans. I learned from the taxi driver that a lot of choice properties in Baguio are being bought by foreigners.
“There are still some pockets of the old Baguio — Teachers Camp, Camp John Hay, South Drive, and Cabinet Hill — but Baguio is no more. I would like to thank you very much for your article was the one that motivated me to revisit Baguio City and retrace my old haunts.”
Well, Oscar, without strong laws to protect our heritage (even more modern ones like notable houses and structures built 50 years ago) we will continue to lose our architecture and the ambiance of our historic cities. The Cojuangco house may not have lost its value and been sold if the views of Burnham Park it was blessed with had not disappeared. The pressure to redevelop Baguio into another overcrowded, blight-infested Philippine city also has led to the loss of our architectural heritage.
On the centennial article on Baguio, I got several e-mails correcting a wrong caption. Typical of these were the e-mails of F. Sapienza and B. Guerrero, which called my attention to the intriguing picture of baseball played in Tokyo in 1918. One e-mail said, “I enjoyed your story in yesterday’s STAR. I think the Japanese in the kimono is the umpire. The catcher is the one in front of him with the mitt.” Another writer noted, “I am clueless why he is standing up when he should be in a crouching position. Notice, too, that the umpire is unprotected. Normally he should be wearing a padded vest and shoes (not clogs as shown in the photograph) to protect him from missed catches and foul tips.”
I stand corrected and I do hope to feature baseball and its history in the Philippines soon. My father used to tell me stories of watching the games at Rizal Stadium. Now our youngest, Juancho, is starting his second season in the little leagues here in Manila.
But that will have to wait.
This week we look at another interesting Baguio house, which, unlike the Cojuangco residence, I have not been able to locate. This house was designed for Mr. and Mrs. Fernando Jacinto.
Guitar Man RJ Jacinto, whose father owned the house, tells me the Jacinto house was destroyed during martial law and the family no longer owns the land.
The architect of the Jacinto house was an Aida Cruz del Rosario. It is unusual to find many homes or buildings attributed to women architects in features from the 1950s and ‘70s. The more established practicing architects until the ‘70s were predominantly men.
The magazine that originally featured the house acknowledged the reason why people built homes in the northern hill station. “A summer house in Baguio City is indispensable to those who escape the hot summer months in the lowlands. Height, the expanse of view and serenity were the essential requirements of the owners when they built this cool retreat in the mountain city.
“To achieve the site they chose a promontory overlooking the rich mining valleys of Baguio. A generous use of pine-wood has created a strong, sturdy effect on the façade aided further by a foundation of crushed boulders and stones.”
The house looks very Japanese in inspiration. It looks like a house in Kyoto. Inside, though, it is eclectic. The architect gave the interior designer, Roberto Borja, many opportunities to introduce ‘60s elements — not all successfully — but nevertheless a reflection of the transitory nature of domestic architecture and interior design of the era.
The house sits at the top of a pine-filled drive. It sits low like a Japanese bungalow. A porch rings the house, making extensive use of pinewood. Behind, the site slopes down to the valley and is filled with flowering terraces. The architect elected to add a modern concrete view deck to take better advantage of the view. The “space-age” structure is quirky and so unique that it should be easy enough to spot even today. But I could not locate it.
Inside the house is a mix of Japanese, rustic colonial, pop and Spanish décor. There are sunken areas and fireplaces, dark wood interiors in the main living room contrasted with an all-white den. The rustic parts hark back to the old Baguio Country Club interiors while the den and other private corners look like Manila homes of the era.
Summer homes in Baguio of the ‘60s still had enough space and isolation to create singular destinations for families with the means to build such summer retreats. The masses also still had the rest of Baguio to enjoy, which until the ‘70s was still fairly green and untouched by the virus of unbridled urban development. Today’s Baguio is but a glimmer of its former self that no Guinness Book of World Records or annual floral festivals can hope to mitigate.
Those who wrote me recently singled out such specific infections as the loss of heritage structures and traffic. One reader lamented, “They should have rebuilt the Pines Hotel…it was a national landmark (for visitors and locals). The entrance to the Baguio Country Club has been modernized. What a shame! They should have rebuilt the old entrance, reminiscent of what it was and had been for decades. Why do people do these things? What is wrong with us? Is there any glimmer of hope to restore Baguio to its historical landscape?”
Yes, there is hope but only if those who live in Baguio, as well as those who visit it, appreciate its history, understand the reasons for its current deterioration and undertake to recover it from the clutches of unmitigated, profit-driven, pine-tree-cutting, aesthetically-challenged, un-cool development.
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Feedback is welcome. Please e-mail the writer at paulo-alcazaren@gmail.com.
