As a UP alumna, I should help, no matter how modestly, in the restoration of the UP Carillon which no longer rings.
The UP Carillon, the first of its kind in Southeast Asia, is still the country’s only carillon that is played on a wooden keyboard.
Herewith, Jose Dalisay Jr., Ph.D. gives an eloquent and poetic history of it.
“With the possible exception of the Oblation statue, nothing symbolizes the University of the Philippines more than the 130-foot Carillon Tower — a structure unlike any other in Diliman, a ringing echo of the University’s glorious past.
Built in 1962 at a cost of some P200,000, the Carillon has serenaded generations of UP students, teachers, employees and campus residents with its cascade of chimes rising above the early morning mist and attending the fall of twilight. From UP Beloved and Planting Rice to the Beatles tunes and The Internationale of later years, the Carillon grew with the times, and itself grew timeless, marking the same hours of different days as if to remind the listener that some things never change — love, honor, idealism, the joy and the challenge of learning beneath the broad canopy of a university life.
“It was a musical instrument — to be technical about it — an assemblage of 46 tuned bells sounded by hammers, controlled from a keyboard or clockwork mechanism whose player we never saw, a perfect surrender of the person to the music. What was important was for the bells to be heard, for the listeners to be assured that there was order in their universe — and not just order but beauty and pleasure, especially at the beginning and at the end of a long day.
“The Carillon charmed us without the boisterousness of a brass band or the self-absorbed intensity of a piano; its delight lay precisely in its distance. It was a soothing voice over your shoulder, a scattering of happy notes in the vagrant wind. The Carillon could be heard in all corners of the campus, from classroom to laboratory to janitorial closet. It was solace democratized.
“But it has fallen silent, ravaged by age and neglect. The tower itself is firm, but the Holland-made bronze bells have gone out of tune, a number of them to be retired and replaced; the keyboard’s wires and wooden levers have crumbled. The last time the bells were played was at the Lantern Parade in 1988. Previous restoration efforts fell short of the funds needed for a complete overhaul.
“It is a sad slide from the dream of National Artist Juan Nakpil and UP Music Conservatory director Ramon Tapales who, along with UP President Bienvenido Gonzales, had conceived of the Carillon as early as 1940. It took the UP Alumni Association to realize that dream and install the bells. On Aug. 1, 1952, the UP Bulletin declared that the Carillon “was dedicated as a memorial to the spirit of the UP Alumni, living and dead. It’s the voice of that spirit that must have whispered in our ear when the bells of Diliman last played — and which we hope to hear again, once this proud tower of music is finally and properly repaired.”
The foregoing, along with the urgent appeals of UP President Dr. Emerlinda R. Roman, regent and UP Alumni president Gari M. Tiongco and project chairman Jaime S. de los Santos, should induce all UP alumni to send checks to the UP Carillon Restoration Project, Ang Bahay ng Alumni, Magsaysay Ave., UP Diliman, QC.
My good friend Eddie F. Hernandez is in the Ways and Means Committee.
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“Surrender/Save Yourself the Pain”, Cesare Syjuco at WWW.CesareSyjuco.com” is an intriguing title. Find out what it stands for.
Ivi Avellana Cosio’s exhibit of artmaking 1967 to 2007 will run until Sept. 8 at the Avellana Art Gallery on FB Harrison.
Allan Cosio’s exhibit of nudes, with Jude Areopagita as assisting artist, will be from Aug. 30 to Sept. 30 at the Rico-Renzo Gallerie, Bel Air 2. On opening night, Allan will give a recital of classical songs and arias.