Objects 42 Spread out on
Objects 42 Spread out on the low coffee table are an array of heavy, solid inverted U-shaped pendants called lingling-o. Some of the earliest existing examples date back as far as 500 BCE, but it is widely accepted that they have existed since the late Neolithic period. Although originally made from jade, these were later fashioned from gold and other precious metals and then exported throughout the region with a flourishing maritime trade route that predated even biblical times. “The beauty of some of these pieces is that they are inherited and passed on from their ancestors,” explains Wilson. “They were not ‘excavated’ from tombs, these are pieces that are still in circulation today and have a significant cultural meaning.” Shaped like a uterus and representing abundance and fertility, lingling-os are not just status symbols but also signify a person’s or family’s wealth. Traditionally, one would accumulate these pieces over time, worn either on the ear or around the neck, and as one moved up the social strata, the metal would become more precious. They are made by sand-casting, wherein molten gold is poured into a mould of very fine sand and then polished to a shine. “As a designer who started out as a collector, it is not my job to reproduce form,” says Wilson. “I am, however, fascinated and inspired by the techniques.” He uses a similar sand-casting technique for some of his pieces, although currently he is fascinated by filigree, a speciality in Baguio. Caro Wilson (carowilson.shop), his jewellery label, makes use of solid gold and silver dipped in gold to create fresh, modern pieces that are light and easy to wear. “I create with filigree but interpret this in a contemporary way. It makes my jewellery relevant while being deeply rooted in our heritage,” he adds. A visit to Wilson’s Baguio workshop shows how meticulous this work truly is. Threadlike strands of silver are finely hammered with ridges and then set into a lace-like spiderweb lattice. Some of the strands are braided and woven before being fashioned into bracelets and earrings, and this takes a certain amount of skill that is only gleaned from years of experience. A brief conversation with Wilson’s craftsman reveals how difficult it is to actually find new people to train. Younger generations find the work too tedious and often quit after a few months of training, he explains. It’s a common complaint across the industry, which was echoed by many other designers. Erica Concepcion Reyes established her label Riqueza (@riquezajewellery) as an homage to her great-grandmother, who collected antique Filipino jewellery. “They were mostly from the colonial era, which is where I started,” shares Concepcion Reyes. “Many of the goldsmiths I work with mostly restored antique pieces in the past and were the workers of my mentor, the late Ramon Villegas. Some of them have been in the industry for half a century and have come from several generations of goldsmiths. It’s very challenging to find skilled artisans who can really understand not just the designs, but the proper techniques and mechanisms that make them unique.” “Craft is important,” says Joyce Mäkitalo of J Mäkitalo Jewelry (@jmakitalojewelry). All her pieces, like those of Concepcion Reyes and Wilson, are handcrafted. This is essential to her, especially in an industry that has increasingly turned to the use of machines and 3D printers. “It mirrors culture, both past and present day. It supports both the culture and the people. One can tell when jewellery is made with a lot of care, thought and effort, by hand – there is soul and, upon closer inspection, one sees human imprints like asymmetry and imperfection. These little things make a piece more special.” Thanks to a recent renaissance in “Filipiniana”, the fashion landscape has seen a true resurgence of the “wear your culture” movement, with everything from haute couture to retail labels selling modern interpretations of traditional designs and a rise in the use of local indigenous textiles. “There has been a definite increase in the demand for Filipino jewellery,” says Concepcion Reyes. “Lately, people are gravitating towards the bolder look of hammered gold inspired by pre-colonial pieces.” Jomari Treñas is a well-known figure in Philippine history, anthropology and archaeology. The Harvard-educated lawyer is an avid collector specialising only in indigenous antiques and Philippine art. His home in Metro Manila reveals an exquisite, expertly curated collection. “We’re always trying to see who we are as a people. If we don’t look back and see where we came from, we won’t have that fullness of being Filipino,” says Treñas. Nothing is more tangible than wearing a piece of history; gold can cement that link to the past. It’s a tactile experience, with the metal interacting directly with the skin to create an almost alchemical and energetic connection. CENTURION-MAGAZINE.COM
43 National Treasure Top row, from left: antiques dealer and collector Pinky Magsano; examples of the ornate tamborin-style beads and delicate filigree work, which flourished during colonial times; jeweller Erica Concepcion Reyes, known for her work restoring antique pieces and new ones made the traditional way; middle row, from left: examples of uterus-shaped lingling-o, representing abundance, fertility and wealth; government cultural promoter Marie Venus Tan; a necklace made from a collection of pre-colonial amulets strung on trade beads and inscribed with magical symbols thought to bestow mystical powers; bottom row, from left: Aileen and Edwin Bautista, who have an impressive collection of excavated gold from southern Philippines; pre-colonial gold necklaces and bracelets showcasing meticulous granulation, casting and repoussé techniques; lawyer, history enthusiast and collector Jomari Treñas
