Aerials from Manila's urban past

Last week I featured ads from the 1960s. This week we go back to the past — 60 years in the past, that is. Not to look at advertisements or illusions of what could be, but at the reality of what Manila and its suburbs were in the long recovery from the damage of the Second World War.

The pictures are from another of my old prized copies of the Sunday Times Magazine dated August 1949. The reason I procured this particular copy was for the priceless aerial photographs of Manila and its surrounding landmarks.

Another reason why I love old publications is the quality of the writing back then; not that we don’t have good writers today, but back then, writing, even for weekly magazines, took a very literary bent.

The introduction to the series of aerial images entitled “Manila from the Air” is a good example of Filipino writers’ way with words then:

 “A pedestrian walking the streets of Manila will seldom pause to appreciate the sights around him and, rather than give a second look at a new edifice that has risen above some ruins or what new patterns have been shaped on a plot of city ground, would hurry to his office or appointment. For one thing, the closeness inspires no unfamiliar perspective, and the angle from which he sees them has long become but a straight-backed routine that whips them into line, as it were, disrobing them of whatever novelty they once had.”

The article credits the pictures to an intrepid photographer named Pedro F. Aquino Jr., who took the pictures from a single-engine Philippine Air Force plane piloted in three flights by Lt. Godofredo Fernandez, Capt. Victoriano Bautista and Master Sergeant Brigoli.

Aquino took the pictures using a Leica 3C, a classic 35mm rangefinder camera. Built like a tank, the camera was a favorite of famous photographers like Henri Cartier-Bresson. From the looks of the pictures, Aquino probably had on a Summitar f2/50 mm lens. If the pictures were more vignetted he would have been using a Hektor 28mm f6.3. (This is just for you camera collectors and enthusiasts out there.)

The first picture is that of the Manila Post Office with the Escolta skyline in the background. Designed by Juan Arellano and completed in 1931, the Neoclassic masterpiece was heavily damaged in the battle for Manila. It was quickly rebuilt afterwards since post-war communications depended on mail. Cable and radio links were tenuous and all important dispatches had to be sent by sea.

On the opposite page was the UP Diliman campus. The facility had only two major buildings built right before the war, the education and nursing (now the College of Law) buildings both also designed by Juan Arellano. The campus was commandeered by the US Army until 1949, which explains all the Quonset huts in the picture.

Other pictures include one of Binondo, Manila’s old central business district, on the north side of the Pasig River. In the picture are the still extant landmarks of El Hogar and the National City Bank of New York (later FNCB), as well as the tallest pre-war headquarters building of La Insular on Plaza Cervantes (now known as Insular Life, which has since then moved twice, to Makati and then to Alabang).

There’s an interesting picture of the old Philippine Legislative Building (Congress) being reconstructed with the Philippine Normal School (now PNC) and the Art Deco Jai Alai building in the background. The Jai Alai was lost to the wrecking ball 10 years ago and the old Congress building is now the National Museum.

Postwar traffic at its worst is shown in a picture of Plaza Miranda, which was closed for political rallies. The country’s first pedestrian bridge, a wooden one, is seen at the top of the image, crossing Quezon Avenue, the busiest city road next to Avenida Rizal.

A nearby district is shown with the FEU campus as the focus. The buildings were designed by architect Pablo Antonio Sr., whose Art Deco creations should be designated as part of our national built heritage. It is still one of the greenest campuses in the district.

Flying southeast, Aquino photographed the Sta. Ana Racetrack. Nearby, but not captured on film, was the world-famous Sta. Ana Cabaret, the largest dancehall in the world at one time. Today the racetrack is one of the largest open areas left in the city and targeted for redevelopment (like the San Lazaro course). We’ll have to wait for the next construction boom, though.

Other landmarks are featured. North of Manila was the pre-war gateway with the Bonifacio monument. The grand rotunda is one of the only appropriate settings in the metropolis for monuments even to this day. Guillermo Tolentino’s masterpiece (designed with the help of architect Serafin de Lara) marks the vehicular entry into Manila from points north. I wonder if the planned LRT to MRT connection will respect this old landmark, or mess it up like much of what our recent inelegant city infrastructure has done.

The Grace Park airfield was nearby but closed after the war to be redeveloped into a residential subdivision. Also lost in the area after the war was a golf course and what was to be the new Ateneo campus. The Jesuits opted for Loyola, leaving the MCU to take its place.

Also at the edge of Manila was the Quezon Institute. The QI was located on España Extension, considered the outer fringe east of Manila. They had to locate the tuberculosis hospital in the clean air and undeveloped fields of the area. Today the QI is still there but in the middle of a highly urbanized area. We should lobby to keep all its green open spaces green and open.

Finally, we go back to the bay and the first landmark that most people saw when arriving in Manila. The Manila Hotel’s silhouette greeted millions until travel shifted to jetliners. To this day, the hotel stands as an iconic Manila landmark.

The north harbor and Luneta districts, as well as Intramuros, need an integrated master plan, though. All around the world, waterfronts have been redeveloped to stage cities’ urban and economic renewals. It would be timely to embark on an ambitious plan for this district now. The current economic slowdown is a lull we can use to redo and rebuild our old historic centers, both to pump up the economy and to recover the urbanity we lost before the war.

These aerials, from 60 years ago, give us a perspective of the past. It makes us take a step back and have a larger view of the way we shape our cities, create our landmarks and physically frame all our endeavors.

We should realize from images like these that we need to rationalize our metropolis’ evolution. First, to acknowledge our historic past via the conservation of our architectural legacy, and second, to make sure that any future way of building structures and districts is environmentally and socially sustainable. All this is needed to be able to create a Metro Manila that will recover its sense of place, rediscover its economic and cultural vibrancy and, most importantly, to make all future residents proud to be a Manileño.

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Feedback is welcome. Please e-mail the writer at paulo.alcazaren@gmail.com.

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