WHEN I was a kid, the church in Magallañes used to be one of my favorite places to hear Mass because of its infamously short services. The priests gave short sermons, songs were simply recited rather than sung, and the lines for communion weren’t long at all. I also remember not being able to concentrate because I would already be looking forward to eating the sumptuous tacos after Mass which were only available in the area. You can try to make me feel guilty all you want for not being an ideal Catholic, but being barely a teenager at that time, I didn’t know any better.

As I grew older and more mature, my faith and devotion to the Catholic Church became stronger, of course. But when I heard about the fire that devastated the old Magallañes Church a few years ago, I felt a part of my mischievous youthful days got burned along with the structure. I also felt a great loss in the architectural scene because it was a structure designed by the acclaimed National Artist for architecture, Architect Leandro Locsin.

A few years after that unfortunate accident, I heard rumors that the Magallañes Church was to be rebuilt. Curious that I am, I visited its parish office and looked at the plans and perspectives of the proposed design. I was not sure that it did justice to the classic design of the old church. I pass South Luzon Expressway every day, so I saw the construction progress, but my thoughts remained unchanged about the structure as it slowly took shape.

When I finally decided to visit it on Sunday, my impression about the church changed. As soon as I got down from my car and looked at the architecture, I felt the church soaring above me with its magnificent height, as if reaching for the heavens. It seemed to stand as a symbol of hope, as if saying that no matter what disaster you are faced with in life, you will surely overcome as long as your faith is strong. Maybe my initial impression was on account of my deep respect for Architect Locsin, but the new design, while very different in character, stands as a great replacement.

Officially called Saint Alphonsus Mary de Liguori Parish, the church’s new design made use of the parts of the structure that was left after the fire. The slanted buttresses and some of the beams survived the fire, and the designer worked around that, signaling a deep respect for the original design. The existing buttresses now function as the base of the new roof form, which is a series of multileveled-barrel vaults clad with Spanish clay tiles. In between each tier are transom windows that allow natural light to flood the interiors of the church.  By simply repeating one element into a rhythmic manner, a unique form was achieved. If only the roof itself was finished with a less traditional roofing material aside from Spanish clay tile, the structure would have been a pure contemporary form.

The interiors impressed me the most. Going beyond mere aesthetics, it is how the space feels that is truly moving. Upon entry into the nave, you will feel a bit of confinement because of the low ceiling, which is actually the cantilevered floor of the mezzanine above. As you move further into the space, the ceiling suddenly shoots up into a magnificent space with a cathedral-height ceiling. The character of the exterior roof is evident inside because the ceiling surface echoes the multitiered barrel-vault exterior form. Besides the existing buttresses, the load of these barrels are shared by skewed, inverted V-shaped columns that eventually merge into a singular structural upright support. The structural elements, which are usually concealed (e.g., the trusses of a typical roof), have been used as a design element, having a dual purpose of stability and aesthetics. The inverted Vs are highlighted by horizontal wooden slats, creating a nice contrast against the dominantly white interiors.

The retablo, which is an intricate and monumental wall of religious art that usually serves as the backdrop of the altar, also achieves a nice contrast. It is a semicircular high wall which is clad with different panels of wood. On top of the retablo are capiz panels with different random colors that are translucent enough to allow sunlight from the exterior to shine through. Being the only source of color in the interiors, it becomes a very dramatic centerpiece.

The bell tower, which was actually completed way before the church itself, could easily be mistaken as a piece of contemporary street sculpture. Made out of steel, it complements the design of the main church as it has the same concept of the rhythmic tiers, with a sharper form.

This church is definitely a product of context. Every effort was made to achieve a design that was complementary to what preceded it. The new roof complements the old structure. The interiors complement the exterior. The bell tower complements the church. The new structure complements the old one. From this model, designers can learn that the answer is not to always destroy whatever is old and worn-down. This often becomes the case, because tearing down old structures makes the job easier for designers since it is always easier to start from scratch than to work around a preexisting condition. What this church tells us is that it is possible for the old and the new to coexist. It’s just a matter of striking a balance.  

 You may e-mail the author at design@buensalidoarchitects.com and visit his website at www.buensalidoarchitects.com.

From Geek to Chic

LOS ANGELES—With just a touch, Ned the Pie Maker, the hero of the new ABC fantasy-comedy Pushing Daisies, can make rotten fruit turn ripe and bring the dead back to life.

Into Greener Pastures

THE Captain’s Bar at Mandarin Oriental rang with celebration as investors, real-estate players and members of the press toasted the unveiling of Greenfield City, envisioned to be the jewel in the crown of Santa Rosa, Laguna.

Urban Monologues: Striking A Balance

WHEN I was a kid, the church in Magallañes used to be one of my favorite places to hear Mass because of its infamously short services. The priests gave short sermons, songs were simply recited rather than sung, and the lines for communion weren’t long at all.

Reeling: (9) Songs, Lots of Sex, and Infinite Sand

I WISH I were Mae West when I get confronted by a film like 9 Songs. I could have just muttered the lines: I used to be Snow White but I drifted. But there is only one Mae West and there are very few films like 9 Songs, and even fewer filmmakers like Michael Winterbottom.