NOTE: This two-part series is adapted from my essay “History of the House of La Inmaculada of Virac” that appeared in the coffee table book “The Cathedral of Virac, Harong ni Ina” published by the Diocese of Virac in 2023. This is my way of celebratiing the Virac town fiesta comes December 8.
In the first part, we tackled two moments of historical evolving of the parish church of Virac, the pre 1755 period and the one after it when the old Spanish stone edifice was built. Here we proceed to two other major re-buildings that took place within the last fifty five years.
The modernized parish church
By the late sixties a billboard rose at the front of the plaza-side facade of the old church. It bore the painted representation of a planned new and modern church building designed by Arch. Pedro Tuboro. The project was the brainchild of the parish pastoral council under the leadership of Mr. Gabriel Sorra whose son Jose would later become the first bishop of the Diocese of Virac. It appeared to have been inspired by the spirit of the Second Vatican Council, aimed at bringing the Church to be at pace with the modern times. But it was too about a very practical consideration. The old structure had become inadequate for the growing population of the faithful in Virac. Jam-packed on special occasions, a good number of worshippers would faint out of sheer lack of ventilation inside, what with the few and small windows that the Baroque architecture allowed. This was specially so during Lenten observances held in the hot, dry season.
There was widespread discontent about the plan, especially from old folk, who watched in horror as the thick ramparts of coral-stone masonry slowly crumbled down to the noisy and incessant pounding of jack hammers and wrecking ball. It was a tedious task bring the old church down. The demolition of the triangular pediment of the façade posed particular challenge. They first separated it from the lower rectangular wall by chiseling out a line of gap from both sides to the center, creating a mushroom-like structure of the pediment. Then they tied it with steel ropes to a heavy equipment vehicle which pulled off to topple it down. On several tries, the ropes snapped. So additional chiseling had to be done until the head of the “mushroom” was precariously tottering on its slender base. When it finally crashed down from the pulling, it made a loud roar and raised a dense cloud of dust. When the dust settled a big and deep dent on the ground was revealed. For some time, children relished on the adventure it offered: running down the hole and digging up the bones of dead people who laid for some two centuries undisturbed in the bowels of the earth. This was because that part of the patio used to be the cemetery
Most of the original masonry walling of the old church gave way, with the exception of the back wall of the main altar. They retained and incorporated it to the new structure. The belfry was preserved in toto but was hid behind a cladding of prefab decorative blocks of molded concrete to give it that modern look. It is said that the demolished walls of corals were used as filling materials for the reconstruction of the Virac pier and its subsidiary structures, making for poetic justice wherein nature, the sea specifically, reclaimed what was taken from her.
Since the old stone masonry was replaced by reinforced concrete, the new church building allowed more doors and windows, making for greater natural lighting and ventilation. While bigger in size, it felt lighter and airy.
Aside from doubling the carrying capacity of worshippers, the rebuilt parish church was re-styled with definitely modern sensibilities, made to reflect the spirit of Vatican II reforms. The crucificado floor plan was retained, with the same length as the old. The expansion was on the central nave that had additional secondary naves on both sides. The ceiling was higher. The new lay out allowed masses to be said with the people where the celebrant faced the congregation. The sanctuary was raised further but the communion rail removed to signify the breaking down of barriers between the clergy and the laity. The tabernacle was relegated to a side altar on the right. Design had gone minimalist with much of the Baroque trimmings given up. No more ornate retables in favor of clean lines on the altar backdrop. Most of the saints were relegated to the bodega (later on to a separate holding chapel) their stint of general exposure limited only to their feast days. The Inmaculada herself and St. Joseph had to take secondary places on the altar, for a Christ-centered scheme of display.
In October 13, 1970, feast day of Our Lady of Fatima, super typhoon “Sening” made a bulls-eye hit of Catanduanes. It ravaged the town of Virac. The new parish church, still smelling of fresh paint, was heavily damaged. Its entire roof was blown off, except for the part sheltering the sanctuary. The picture of the Imaculada, unscathed and resplendent in the midst of ruins, graced the front page of a national newspaper and hailed as miraculous. Some torn out parts of the roof landed on the rice fields fronting the Virac Pilot Elementary School.
For some time, Sunday masses were held at the big ermitas in the poblacion such as those of Rawis and Gogon, and even at the Plaza Rizal. The misas de gallo for Christmas 1970 was observed by the pale light of petromax under provisional roof of the ruined parish church which leaked when it rained. But soon, the church was repaired to its pre-Sening integrity, together with other public buildings destroyed by the typhoon: a new provincial hospital (now the Eastern Bicol Medical Center) rose up, and so with a new capitol on the erstwhile site of the Catanduanes National High School. The new Virac public market was contemporary of the new parish church. Other public works projects followed suit such as the Virac fountain, the boulevard, the Virac Youth Center (on the present site of the Virac Center Mall). It was after all the heyday of generous political largesse from the national coffers courtesy of the Albertos.
In August 27, 1974, Catanduanes became a separate diocese. The people therefore had to get used to calling the Virac parish church a Cathedral presided over by a mitered cleric, Bishop Jose C. Sorra. As such, the church progressively took on some physical changes, Firstly, the diocesan coat-of-arms blazed at the backdrop of the main altar and the symbolic chair of the Bishop prominently displayed at the left side of the sanctuary area. Later, more upgrading were done, particularly under the watch of parish priest Msgr. Jose Molina, which took on styles and touches that duly reflected the favored doctrinal thrusts anchored on evangelizing renewal. Along this line was the replacement of the huge crucified Christ rendered in realist manner as centerpiece icon of the main altar, with a modernist styled resurrected Jesus with the Cross behind Him, succinctly summing up the formula for Salvation: Glory after the Passion. To incorporate the missionary mandate of the Church, a fishing net of blown-up proportions dangled through at the left side of the Risen Lord from top to bottom, with two matabang isda caught up into the gear of the “Fishers of Men.” To aptly serve as backdrop of this sculptural composition was a walling of rusticated coral tiles cut from the reefs of the island, reminding of the former building material of the old church and thereby making for continuity with the past.
The narrative of the main altar was complemented by the equally arresting visual feast of stained-glass windows along the upper walls of the central nave and the entrance façade. Represented were important biblical and traditional scenes that told of important moments in the salvation history, so chosen to emphasize certain gospel and Catholic values. As such, the modernized Virac Cathedral while having given up antique material heritage, had become anew a visual medium for religious instruction to the contemporary faithful of Virac, a re-adaptation of the old maxim regarding the Gothic Cathedral of medieval Europe as being the “bible in stone.”
The neo-Baroque reconstruction
The indications towards a new round of major changes in the Virac cathedral happened in mid 1990s immediately after a new bishop was installed in the person of Msgr. Manolo de los Santos. The new coat-of-arms and the symbolic seat was set up on the very central backdrop of the main altar made most conspicuous by the ornate embellishment that was unmistakably Baroque, which floated in stark contrast to the modernist surroundings. Then in the first decade of the 21st century – in the same manner the building of a modernist church was conveyed to the public over fifty years ago – a billboard rose on the frontage of the cathedral announcing the plan to renovate it a second time around. The new design proposed? Neo-Baroque.
Baroque art came into currency in 15th century Europe. According to art historians, it was part of the Catholic Church’s reaction against Protestantism. So the church had to put on very attractive visual display to awe and inspire the people away from the protestant allure with the use of highly sensorial decorative motiffs. This was the sort of religious art that the Spaniards brought to the Philippines when they colonized the islands. The old Spanish churches therefore were Baroque sensibility. It worked in favour of their proselytizing because the early Filipinos easily warmed up to Baroque: they were “Baroque” in their own native tastes and style. Proof of this was how the early Cebaunos was so enamored by the lavishly garbed Sto. Niño.
In the wake of the Vatican II reforms, the Baroque was identified with tradition and therefore was not compatible with modernity. So the seventies saw the stripping of Catholic art of its Baroque vestiges. In Virac we saw this in the modernist cathedral of the 70s and 80s and the rise of such showcases of modernism as the church of the Risen Lord and the Fiat House.
In the 1980s, there started a perceptible trend of re-Baroquezation of the Catholic Church. We saw this first n Metro Manila. Churches were being renovated to put on Baroque features. Altogether new churches were being built in either neo-Baroque or neo-Classic architecture. In Catanduanes it rather came late with the renovation of the Virac cathedral, but also observed in the small ermitas where modern altars were torn down to re-Baroque-cized or else overlaid with retablo motifs.
But the Virac Cathedral was the most ambitious of such refurbishing projects. It necessitated massive fund-raising endeavors and took some years to complete. When inaugurated a couple of years ago, the result was such a resplendent edifice inside out, even more Baroque than Baroque and none of the brooding, dark and heavy feeling of the colonial Spanish version. The exterior is arresting with a huge dome crown and finials of angels. The interior is such a visual treat of florid texture: an abundance of molded trimmings, ornate gold-colored niches, ceiling murals and a repopulation of saints. Indeed, it had been featured in tourism promotional materials. One thing good about the new cathedral is its stylistic consistency. It had overcome the confusing mix-up of the modern and the old during the transition years in the 90s.
Baroque is what modernism is not. Its comeback has to be explained. It is not about simply being fed up with something that had become too familiar and boing. Like any art movement, BAroque represents a particular set of values and sensibilities. Note that what has crept back into contemporary Catholicism is not simply the material aspects of architecture and decorative arts but also practices, such as in liturgy and rituals. Liturgy now has now become keener on traditional form and pomp. Many of the religious observances are all about display and pageantry. Is there something of deeper significance than what meets the yes? Are there implications in terms of values and beliefs?
All these re-appropriation of tradition, particularly the Baroque, may be seen in two respects beyond face value. Firstly, it indicates a sobering down of the initial impact of Vatican II. In its initial years, the reforms were taken in radical measures, brought by the compulsion to break away from the past perceived to have already become burdensome to more authentic and essential spirituality. It was mostly about stripping of unnecessary borloloys. But on hindsight, it seemed the push to modernize had its excesses. Bringing back the Baroque is a way to regulate the radicalism. Secondly, the Church appears to be asserting back its identity. The changes are seen to have gone too far to the extent that a highly modern Catholic Church can now be distinguished from mainstream protestatism. The bare altars, the loud jazzy or even rock music, the de-emphasis on the cult of the saints, especially Mary. Perhaps the Church had now become too liberal? So all these revitalization of the Baroque is a way to take stock of the wealth from the past and feel Catholic again.
In any case, these changes in the material aspects of the church is not skin deep; it is indicative of more profound evolving beyond appearances of a church trying to assume continuing relevance in a world becoming more complex and problematic. We could only wish that it is not a reactive return to conservatism; we hope it is the proactive harnessing of the resources from the past towards more authentic engagement with the signs of the times now and into the future.
Maogmang celebra banwaan ning Virac! Viva La Inmaculada Concepcion!