A certain charm imbues century-old houses. One would initially remark their look of defiance, having survived possible catastrophes either natural or otherwise. Next would be how, in their architecture and design, these houses have frozen time: the imposing door, the august hallway, the large rooms opening into a view of courtyard, the pieces of furniture harking back to the old days of “calesas,” women in their “ternos,” and the long silences of the afternoons un-interrupted by work or soap opera. Inevitably, one would notice the history contained in the houses’ space, that ineffable sense conveying how people lived during a certain time, the values and aspirations they upheld, and the culture that governed them.

I have seen and stepped into such houses, beginning with the handful I visited in Negros Occidental, Cebu and later Vigan. So well-preserved, these houses echo their former glory, evoking a sense of nostalgia and also a sense of pride for their brand of architecture where every component was dutifully carved, planed, sculpted, polished and built by human hands. If you position yourself in the center of a room and close your eyes, you may hear the creaking of the wood, feel the soft breeze due to efficient ventilation and smell the unmistakable odor of history itself.

One such house is the Balay ni Tana Dicang, located in Talisay City in Negros Occidental, which the family believes, based on oral history, was done in 1883. It was a traditional “bahay-na-bato,” built on 6,000 sq.m. of land. No wonder that the family members called it then Balay Daco, or “big house.” Martin Imperial Tinio and Fernando Nakpil Zialcita, noted Filipiniana scholars, believe that the house was designed in the tradition of the “Floral Style” which emphasized ornamentation and a flourish of fluid, evocative lines.  

A century and a quarter later, the remaining kin has decided to transform the house into a museum, a gallery and a cultural place, not only to memorialize the couple who originally owned it, Efigenio Lizares and Enrica Alunan, but also to preserve its artistic and historical import and give the public an access to such a significant architectural model and consequently impress upon them a pride of place. In Sept. 10, the house will mark its 126th anniversary. 

Adrian “Adjie” Lizares, the great grandson of the couple, currently oversees the Balay ni Tana Dicang. Though he admits that the house, being old, presents a host of challenges, it remains well-kept and presents its architectural high points. “The stone wall that wraps the ground floor is over a meter thick made of bato and an organic mortar,” he begins. “It is clad with bricks and coquina which is rare and expensive quarried coral stone. Embellishment is classical with moldings, cornices, medallions, and pilasters as well. These design elements are also reflected in the interior.

“The builders of the Balay put in so much attention to the details such as the pierced wood-work balusters of the grand staircase. This design element is also present at the four rose windows in the caida (formal receiving room). It is not ornamented with any trompe l’oeil or painted designs meant to enhance decor.”

In addition, Philippine tropical hardwoods such as narra, balayong (tindalo in Tagalog), and molave were used as structural and design component to the Balay. They of course conveyed status and were not called materiales fuertes for nothing. A surprising element revealed during the restoration was the original casein (an organic compound made of animal protein derived from milk and color pigments) paint beneath several coats. “The original finish is evident on the zaguan (ground floor where carozzas, caritelas, and eventually automobiles are stored) walls,” Adjie says. “Only the master bedroom (of Tana Dicang) has been stripped of the layers of paint so it is the only room on the upper floor that shows the original aqua color in its original form.” 

The original belongings of the former residents, especially those of Tana Dicang, remain intact within the house. Table and bed linen, silver and crystal, documents, photographs, furniture, drapery, basketry, bath fixtures, lighting, religious paraphernalia are displayed for every visitor to see. “The original wrought iron fence around the property is still there, and window gratings survive,” Adjie exclaims.

Part of the integrity of the house lies in the fact that no major renovation took place save for the “restoration” done during the 1950s when the children of the couple still residing in the house, Lola Mayang and Lola Meding, commissioned a relative to do some modification. “They had removed the balcony outside the dining room (comedor) and installed a larger room albeit enclosed by glass jalousies,” says Adjie. “Fortunately, they did not throw anything and we still do have the carved balusters and hand rails of the original balcon, which we intend to restore given time and resources.”

Adjie also plans of removing some of the indoor plumbing and baths en suite from the rooms to restore the original feel of the Balay, keeping in mind not to do any alteration, without consulting experts from the academe and of vernacular architecture. “I always seek their word and kind advice,” he says. “These relations I have cultivated through the years and am happy I did. It is uncanny that experts who are close to the clan have not provided any support in any way but that is so dispensable, virtually negligible at this point.”

Continued next week…