The December 1951 issue of Philippines Quarterly featured illustrations by Anita Magsaysay-Ho that depict vignettes of a tranquil, rural Christmas. These spot illustrations carry a somber tint from the crayon works, combined with the angular figures Magsaysay-Ho is known for. These quiet, idyllic scenes reflect the struggle and confrontation of shifts in Philippine art.
Before World War II, the Philippine art scene faced a conflict between conservative, classically inclined artists—then considered the vanguards of tradition at the University of the Philippines School of Fine Arts—and “modern” artists, often affiliated with the University of Santo Tomas.
The famed “13 Moderns” emerged as standard-bearers of an updated visual art idiom.
Magsaysay-Ho was the only woman among the 13 Moderns. She produced an impressive body of work that reclaimed the Filipino woman’s body from the masculine gaze and dominance. Many Filipino male painters had traditionally depicted women’s bodies as objects of allure, desire, and ornamental servitude.
In contrast, Magsaysay-Ho painted women in their own spaces, surrounded by other women, engaging in labor, and rooted in quiet reality. Her works portray a matter-of-fact representation of womanhood, capturing scenes of motherhood or women working together in markets.
One may be cynical to point out that the 13 Moderns have used the same themes and figures as the classicists but with a different stylistic approach. Rural idyll by Fernando Amorsolo and Fabian de la Rosa is painted differently by Carlos “Botong” Francisco and Magsaysay-Ho but in a more colorful, exaggerated, “modern” style. Yet, this cynical diminishing greatly discounts the sheer achievement of Magsaysay-Ho and her presence in our art history.
The classical sculptor Guillermo Tolentino (who sculpted the UP Oblation) had a series of barbed exchanges with the modernist painter Victorio Edadas on asserting the definition of art. (Side note: it is a scream to read their exchanges because the contemporary eyes would see the both of them are woefully incorrect and have such problematic stances. That would be a great article down the line).
Meanwhile, Magsaysay-Ho quietly produced art amidst such fracas, and it proved to be her enduring legacy of visually capturing grace and quiet moments surrounding and emanating from women. These Christmas illustrations aptly demonstrate her approach to stillness and muted elegiac works.
Magsaysay-Ho should also be studied for her choice of non-traditional and non-popular materials, such as tempera, because this is different from the usual oil on canvas that many Filipino artists embark on and that the art market demands. During this time, many illustrations were in pen and ink, but Magsaysay-Ho used crayons, which are usually associated with children, that are juvenile and disposable. Yet, Magsaysay-Ho managed to use crayons to create images in a suite of Christmas scenes that are both warm and hopeful.
These illustrations were published in the mid-20th century, a time when women generally did not openly participate in the job market. “Decent” women were usually neither seen nor heard during this period. Yet, aside from being a wife and mother, Magsaysay-Ho created art not merely as a means of earning money but also as a way to become visible to other women.
Art history and art academies at that time were dominated by men. Imagine young women aspiring to be artists and seeing Magsaysay-Ho’s works. Visibility is important. Those who scoff at this have likely not experienced systemic omissions, erasure, or diminishment.
Magsaysay-Ho is not precisely a firebrand figure, but her presence and her works offer a feminist possibility of being seen and carving out a legacy. Those rancid letters exchanged by Tolentino and Edades are all but forgotten, yet Magsaysay-Ho’s works endure—surely and quietly.
Moreover, these images were published barely 15 years after the violence of World War II and the struggle for post-independence reconstruction. These illustrations form part of a concerted effort to placate people in uncertain times.
The cool colors and soft, assured lines of Magsaysay-Ho offer scenes of quietude but also convey the venerable messages of Christmas, which are almost non-existent today. While the illustrations depict Christmas in rural areas, Filipinos are now obsessed with proclaiming to the world that we have the longest Christmas season on the planet. Yet, this “celebration” is often characterized by overpowering lights, the blasting and deafening music of budots, and other distressing noises. Christmas has become synonymous with immersive and suffocating consumerist folly, embodied by malls.
Looking at Magsaysay-Ho’s illustrations from Christmas 1951, one can only wonder how she might react to Christmas 2024.
This column does not call for the past to return or even yearn for it—nostalgia is a trap. Instead, it asks the reader to reflect on how they celebrate Christmas. Do you see yourself in these illustrations from more than 70 years ago? How much has truly changed? Are such scenes of quiet celebrations now lost and archaic?
You may reach Chong Ardivilla at kartunistatonto@gmail.com or chonggo.bsky.social
