THE FEAST DAY OF OUR LADY OF ARÁNZAZU: WHEN SAN MATEO BURSTS WITH FLAVORS AND COLORS*
There are quite a few local government units and regions that have earned the rare distinction of successfully attaching themselves to a particular identity, that is to say, a product, a festivity, personage, or any other universal image that it has popularized, or has helped popularize it. When one mentions Calambâ, for instance, one would immediately think of José Rizal. Cebú reminds one of the Sinulog and the Santo Niño. Durián has become synonymous to the Daváo Region. And so on and so forth.
Unfortunately, San Mateo, Rizal is one of many LGUs that will make one stop and think hard for an image, for any mention of the place doesn't pull up an immediate and distinctive picture in one's head. Admittedly —and this is without any disparagement—, this municipality by the boondocks hasn't had much news mileage, except, perhaps, when typhoons or the monsoon season strike, for it and its surrounding areas are always fair game to the moods of the wet season.
But San Mateo does have an image, a distinction, an identity. It should be included in the list of those few Filipino towns that still have something unique to showcase to the rest of the country. It has a character that cannot be found elsewhere. The only real problem why nobody talks about San Mateo is that it has been marginalized by news gatherers who would rather stick to the usual fare of a Rizal, a Sinulog, or a durian, reporting them to death. San Mateo, take note, also has its own unique flavor and lively colors that sightseers from all over the archipelago, and even beyond, can enjoy.
History wise, this municipality is not like many modern-day LGUs today in the sense that it was not carved out from other places (like in the case, for example, of Trece Mártires which sprung from Tanza). Having been established during the early days of the Spanish conquest, San Mateo is considered as one of the oldest towns in the Laguna de Bay region, if not in the entire country. As such, it had ample time in developing within itself a "culture complex" influenced by its diverse geography, topography, and culture. It has produced its own time-honored identity, honed through the progress of time.
This most manifests in its faith — its devotion to Nuestra Señora de Aránzazu, a devotion imported from a non-Castilian area in Mother Spain. Aránzazu is actually from the Basque word arantzazu which means "an abundance of thorns". According to Catholic tradition, a small image of the Virgin Mary carrying a child in her arms (presumably the Child Jesus) was mysteriously discovered by Rodrigo de Balanzategui, a local shepherd, among thorny bushes in the mountains of Aloña. The image was said to be seated upon thorny bushes, hence the name arantzazu. The story goes that the townspeople were skeptical with the shepherd's discovery. But out of sheer desperation for rain (they were then suffering from drought), they sought the image for intervention. Upon returning to their village, rain suddenly poured down from the sky. They regarded it as a miracle from the image. Because of the incident, the townspeople proceeded to build a chapel on the site where the image was discovered. Soon, devotion to this "new" Marian image gradually spread all over Spain.
The piety eventually reached its overseas territory in the Far East: Filipinas. In early 18th century, Jesuit priest Juan Echazábal jumpstarted the devotion to, and adoration of, Our Lady of Aránzazu in San Mateo. As in Spain, piety to this particular Marian image also steadily increased. Little by little, it captured the hearts and imagination of Sanmatenses, most especially those inclined towards creative arts.
Fast forward to today. There has been an ongoing trend in recent decades of secularizing Catholic fiestas, veering away from the names of patron saints. Many of these fiestas now bear peculiar names that seem to draw towards capitalist marketability rather than piety and devotion. In San Pedro Tunasán, its beloved devotion to the giant Cruz de Tunasán, made famous by Rizal for being mentioned in his first novel, was renamed the Sampaguita Festival. The May 15 devotion to San Isidro Labrador in Lucbán was renamed Pahiyás. In Cebú, the pagan name Ati-Atihan has become more popular than the more appropriate Fiesta de Santo Niño. San Mateo was not spared from all this. Many years ago, local officials adopted what it thought to be a more bankable name to market its fiesta: the Kakanin Festival, a parade of rice delicacies and lively street dances. This may be condonable, for rice delicacies such as puto and suman are a cottage industry of San Mateo.
But despite the seeming obsession for secularization, the faith brought here by the intrepid Spanish friars still takes precedence, for all these fiestas are still anchored on the feast days of their respective patron saints. The Kakanin Festival is, after all, still celebrated on the feast day of Our Lady of Aránzazu. A High Mass at the old town church serves as the culmination, the climax, of all the festive activities.
While it can be argued that San Mateo has not produced any particular artist or bard of note who is explicitly attached to Our Lady of Aránzazu (reminiscent of a Nick Joaquín – La Naval de Manila relationship), it has at least put together several color wizards and artificers who made it their personal oath to keep the fire of local artistry burning. And a good number of them are actively inspired by San Mateo's guild for artists that chronicles, in a motley of abstract colors, sketches, and wondrous craftsmanship, the fleeting and floating images of their town's storied past that is still trying to grapple with the present.
This grappling of two eras —a past still trapped in the comforts of tradition and a present that seems to be clawing aimlessly for identity and validation— has cunningly produced in the imagination of the Sanmatense artist a myriad of creative routes. This can be gleaned in the intriguing mixed-media depictions of San Mateo by local artist Ava Pecho-Leonardo. On a face mask —today's symbol of global panic— she was able to paint a pacific image of Our Lady of Aránzazu, with the town church for a background, in an explosion of nuanced hues. Jerry Bee de las Armas' gold-embroidered work (known as tisu de oro) on an image of Our Lady of Aránzazu depicts clothing the past in elegance (remember that the original image was found in a thorny bush). Then there's the intentional burning of the whole town, not with fire but with colors, as one gapes at Noel Catacutan's floating Virgin of Aránzazu, complete with her San Juan de Letrán sash, hovering above town and faithful that have been transformed into an array of exploding shapes and colors.
But there are times when this unseen force of mixing-up tradition with modernity suddenly veers away to just easily rest on the crib of time. Lorenzo de Felipe Jr., for instance, didn't seem to care about it as he rendered a windswept image of the centuries-old town church basking in the loneliness of bland banderitas. But his message is clear: it's tradition or nothing. Marie Claire's fuzzy painting of Our Lady and her babe seems to agree with Felipe's message. Her work shows Our Lady of Aránzazu in her traditional pose (the way she was first seen in Spain): seated on a thorny bush while holding an apple on her right hand. The fuzziness amplifies the sharpness of The Virgin's traditional surroundings, as if the whole place is screaming against modernity.
This is San Mateo's current standing in Filipino festivities, a municipality which was once lodged in the comfortable fabric of Hispanic billet, as did the rest of the country. While it lays silently tucked in one corner of Sierra Madre's emerald presence, it still brims with energetic creativity. Regardless of the onslaught of unaesthetic modernity, there's seems to be no stopping these activities that have lingered the test of time.
All it really needs is a shepherdish discovery from the thorny bush of forgetfulness.
¡Feliz fiesta de Nuestra Señora de Aránzazu!
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* This article (art exhibition notes) currently appears on the Facebook page of the San Mateo Artists Guild upon the solicitation of assemblagist Glenn Martínez (of Traveler on Foot fame). Click here for the online art exhibit.
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