Constantly on Red Alert over old houses in demolition, hamburger joints on heritage ground, cultural treasures dazzling with candy colors, it doesn’t take much to warm the hearts of cultural heritage buffs.  This time it’s over bits of paint.

Like other churches, that of Nstra. Sra. de los Desamparados in Sta. Ana has been constantly improved since it was blessed in 1725.  What one generation considers beautiful, the next often thinks is baduy.  It’s no surprise, then, that New York conservation laboratory analysis revealed 16 layers of finish on Sta. Ana baptistry walls—meaning that over the past 284 years, the little chamber has been “beautified” every 15 to 20 years.

The church was massively renovated in the 1970s when the original paletada was completely chiseled off.  The adobe walls are now pulverizing and fresh paletada is necessary to arrest the damage.  Through parish and community initiative, work has begun with the baptistry that mercifully escaped the 1970s scalping.

The easy way to “restore” would have been to slap on more cement and douse with gold paint, as seems to be the fashion nowadays.  Fr. Eli Manlañgit and the Franciscan Order and the heritage-conscious donor (Cofradia de la Inmaculada Concepción) decided to do things differently.  Aware that cement traps moisture that decays adobe, the consensus was to reproduce the original finish as to material and technique—a mixture of lime (from burnt oyster shells or limestone), sand, binder (some chemically suitable substitute for the egg white of the past), and coloring material like powdered brick, achuete, bark, or animal blood.

Evidence is slim, but the best guess is that the vaulted chamber was originally Mexican style, painted in bright reds and yellows.  This would be logical—the builder of Sta. Ana church, Spanish priest Fr. Vicente Inglés, OFM, was stationed for two years in Mexico before embarking on the project.

The existing neo-classic retablo and neo-gothic wrought iron gate could have been 1800s additions.  The black and white marble floor and a Romblon marble baptismal font were probably put in place sometime before World War II.  The retablo painting (“Baptism of Christ”) is dated 1949 and in the 1970s, glass and steel replaced the capiz windows.

Guided by the results of the New York analysis, an expert team has begun work, as-sisted by students of Escuela Taller, a newly organized restoration crafts school sup-ported by the Spanish Government.

Traces of the baptistry’s successive reincarnations happily remained after the re-moval of thick stucco and cement—just a few inch-squares of the red, black and flesh color typical of 18th century Mexican churches, plus traces of green leaves, yel-low and red-orange simulated marble, and gold leaf.  Some painted lines are on the ceiling.

There is not enough evidence to confidently recreate the original, although ac-cepted current thinking is that a restored structure should reflect the various layers of its history.  Proper lighting is also an issue—no light bulbs in 1725.  Parish authorities and conservation experts are figuring out what to do next.  Abañgan!

Comments are cordially invited, addressed to walalang@mb.com.ph.