
3 minute read
The development of Arkitekturang Pilipino Paglulunan:
By Ar. Gerard Rey Lico, PhD
The search for Arkitekturang Pilipino has been a quest undertaken time and again by many architects of generations past and present. It has boggled the minds of both practitioners and scholars, each quest in search of singular typological examples. Many posit that the quintessential Filipino architecture may be seen in the bahay kubo, or the bahay na bato of yore. But even these examples fail to fully encapsulate the complexities of the Filipino spatial experience as it was and has become. Moreover, the multi-faceted experience of an archipelagic nation, which has witnessed the arrival of many influences, betray a development that may be better appreciated beyond a distillation into one or two building types and spaces. Rather, it would be better seen as spaces in relation to the forces that have shaped them, allowing us to see not only spaces, but places.
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After all, architecture goes beyond merely demarcating and creating spaces. It is a practice of paglulunan or placemaking—where raw spaces are inhabited by people and imbued with meanings and memories. Architecture thus becomes artifacts that encapsulate the spirit, values, and sensibilities of the people that produced them.
Architecture can be a mirror into the lives and contexts of ages past; and with an understanding of these, we can better know the built environment, its ethos, and the people who inform its being. Upon gaining this true essence of Arkitekturang Pilipino, we may learn and better participate in the process of placemaking, and from there, preserve Filipino places for the future to inherit.
Architecture as a Response
Architecture began as a response to nature. Man needed to shelter oneself and to provide a suitable venue for the activities of the day, giving rise to creative responses for addressing spatial requirements. Our Austronesian lineage imparted a primeval affinity towards the water—and the communal nature of maritime life. This in turn informed the development of our vernacular architecture, which gives premium to multi-functional, shared spaces.

Man’s first experience of architecture was with crafting ways to shield themselves from harsh environmental conditions. In the Philippines, early inhabitants made homes out of caves and crafted ephemeral lean-tos for use when out foraging or hunting. Later, the development of communities across the country gravitated towards living near bodies of water, which afforded better access to basic needs for survival and the development of agricultural methods allowed for food security and drove people to go search for more fertile lands, wherever they may be. Water travel developed and became a means upon which communities grouped and orchestrated themselves, developing a culture around the barangays which bore them to new lands. The rigors of maritime travel created a system of communal living which secured and sustained the boat communities and was later carried on to life back on dry land. The early barangganic societies became the basis for social arrangements and dictated how space would be allotted among people.
Our notions of vernacular architecture find their roots here; the affinity for shared spaces used for many functions. The multi-use space of the bahay kubo and other houses on stilts across the archipelago developed uniquely according to the necessities and constraints (ecological or otherwise) of their specific cultural communities and locales. The archipelagic nature of the country, coupled with its almost inhospitable conditions of raging typhoons, humid days, and constant earthquakes mean that the country’s architecture must be able to respond to these adverse conditions. Vernacular architecture is built on the ability to intuitively harness one’s surroundings to create spaces. Hence, while similar in essence, Philippine vernacular architecture exhibits different materialities and morphologies. The introduction of Islam and Muslim culture into the islands contributed to a unique development of vernacular architecture. It created places infused with Islamic sensibilities and informed by the rigors of a maritime Muslim culture, assimilating with the local cultural and spatial structures that have been established prior to its arrival in certain areas.


Morong Church, Rizal. Grand churches developed a local flair through the meeting of the friar’s fleeting memories of European and Mesoamerican churches, and the talents and capabilities of local artisans. Coupled with a uniquely volatile environment in the path of earthquakes and typhoons, the earthquake baroque churches emerged.

The colonial encounter, beginning with Spain in the 16th to 19th century, and later with America in the 20th century, brought sweeping, if not severe changes to the Philippine cultural landscape. To an extent, the colonial encounter gave birth to the idea of a Filipino nation—the various archipelagic polities forged into one political body under Hispanic, then American rule. In the process, the notions of nationhood would emerge among the local population, as they begin to recognize and form an identity which may only be realized with independence.
The arrival of colonists to the country introduced a new spatial order—characterized by a dynamic built on domination, segregation, and control. This was enforced through rigid social hierarchies along racial lines, the assertion of cultural superiority, and later, the imposition of an encompassing techno-scientific agenda to regulate colonial bodies. Even in this case however, the process of resistance and counter-cultural interactions betray the fact that the Filipino is no mere recipient, but an active player in shaping its identity and places.
Hispanic towns and cities were dominated by the cuadricula or grid street system, which allowed for colonial administration to be meted with military efficiency. The intense environmental conditions of the country forced colonial architecture to adapt, taking on the essential vernacular architecture and reinterpreting it with local materiality. Thus, the quintessential Filipino-Hispanic bahay na bato, at its core would be a wooden house on stilts dressed with a veneer of stone at its base. The strictly regimented spaces of