During the latter part of the lockdown, when people were finally allowed to leave their homes and wander freely around the village, I would go out at night, basking in the electric neon blue sky that reminded me of the hues found in paintings. of the Mabini artistic movement (1950s to 1970s). When I was a child, I remember being driven through the streets of Ermita. I would be fascinated by these kaleidoscopic pops of color as we passed the galleries and stores filled with paintings of this popular art form. The artworks of this movement were described as “cheap art”, aimed at tourists and a specific clientele whose needs were decorative rather than more refined aesthetics.
However, in an article, Professor Pearl E. Tan of the University of the Philippines explained that the Mabini art movement should not be compared to fine art since the “aesthetic standards” of Mabini art were very different from those the fine Arts. The goal of the first was to make money. The artists of the Mabini movement painted to earn a living.
On these almost lonely night walks with my dog Artemis, I wish I could enjoy these nights longer, knowing that life would return to normal and the colors above me would begin to fade, as the lights of the city would begin to disappear. to eclipse the light of the night sky.
Is it wishful thinking to imagine a Philippines with laws that reduce light pollution? Since the 1950s, other countries have adopted legislation implementing calibrated measures limiting light pollution (e.g. luminous halos from street lamps, etc.). Initially, the restrictive measures imposed were for scientific purposes, often implemented around observatories or scientific research areas involving celestial studies.
solar motif which can present the argument for the importance of celestial bodies in our prehistoric belief systems (Photo Dr. Grace Baretto-Tesoro)
In their article “Half the park is dark,” Bruno Charlier and his colleagues highlighted the benefits of “dark night skies.” Broadening its scope and recognizing its importance, the document presents “starlight as a real environmental bonus, the protection and development of which can enable the existence of different forms of tourism which are equally sustainable”.
It makes sense to want to protect the dark night sky. “Since the 19th century, history has shown that we have protected areas that can provide us with clean air, real nature and wilderness,” which now includes our need for “darkness and of starlight,” emphasized Charlier. “Not long ago, the dark sky and the Milky Way were still visible in the urban sky.” Today, as writer Jacob Hoerger explains, in addition to people’s diminishing appetite for manned space exploration, “we no longer marvel at the skies above us as we once did, and it doesn’t has little more to do with withered ambitions (for space exploration): the stars themselves are harder to see. That even the brightest constellation Orion can’t compete with the lights of Las Vegas visible from eight different national parks.
Light pollution impacts various animal species. Reports show that light from urban areas (skyscrapers, lighthouses, etc.) is responsible for millions of birth deaths each year and interferes with the navigation of nocturnal migratory birds, turtles (which are normally carried back to the sea after having laid eggs by the sun’s glitter). water ends up in residential areas by the sea). Humans have also been seriously affected, causing physical and mental health problems due to long exposure to artificial light.
It is worth noting that lighting policy decisions made in various countries around the world are working and have alleviated “many ecological, health and astronomy concerns created by a excessive ambient”. To continue to make changes, Night Sky advocates argue not only on the basis of light pollution, based on astronomy or ecology, but also on our cultural heritage.
The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has recognized the sky “as an invaluable natural human resource” in a context where its observation by humans is increasingly threatened by light and the atmospheric pollution. UNESCO considers the night sky to be an extension of our natural and cultural heritage. There are currently 44 dark sky parks and reserves around the world. This number is expected to increase.
Still on the subject of celestial bodies, I received a message one morning from Mother Maria, an Assumption nun from my childhood, converted to the Greek Orthodox faith decades ago and has since been based in Guatemala. She sent a message to share that she had just listened to a Russian talk on archaeoastronomy and found it very interesting.
Archaeoastronomy is “the interdisciplinary or multidisciplinary study of how people of the past understood celestial phenomena, how they used these phenomena, and what role the sky played in their cultures.” I had the chance to visit Mother Maria a few years ago during an icon writing program at their monastery. “In South America, I had the chance to visit some Mayan sites and learn more about Mayan astronomy in relation to architecture and agriculture. In short, the Mayans used the constellations to tell the story of the passage of time. And based on their visibility or appearance in the sky, they knew when to plant or when the season was about to change and how to orient their built structures and so on.
Apart from ethnoarchaeology, we Filipinos do not have much material evidence (built structures or prehistoric farmlands) to serve as solid proof that people in our prehistoric past used astronomy in relation to architecture or agriculture. According to Professor Victor Paz of the University of the Philippines, in our prehistoric past, other smaller cultural materials reflect a sensitivity to the seasons and a sort of calendar for planting or harvesting and the arrival of migratory animals. There is evidence, such as recurring design elements in prehistoric materials from the Philippines, such as the sunburst (dating 2,000 years ago), that illustrate a deliberate use of astronomical symbols that could prove that people of the past appreciated the sun (and perhaps other celestial bodies). to which they gave a significant place in their system of customs and beliefs.
On the subject of sunburn, during the proxy of my cousin Senator Imee Romualdez Marcos in Capiz on the island of Panay last week, I had the chance to visit the Santa Monica Parish Church or Panay Church . There is a small museum of ecclesiastical furniture, clothing and other historic religious paraphernalia located in the convent next to the church. A burdadero at heart, I headed to the religious clothing exhibition and admired the embroidery work. On the second floor there was an exhibition or competition of Marian paintings from artists from all over the region, which was also very good.
What makes Panay Church unique, however, is its claim to hold the largest Catholic bell in the Philippines and the second largest in Asia. It is called the Dakung Lingganay (big bell). I had the chance to meet the president of the parish cultural heritage and tourism council, Fr. Martin Lex Gevero who showed me around the church and walked me five flights of stairs to the belfry in my three-inch wedge heels! There I saw the Dakung Lingganay measuring five feet high and seven feet in diameter. When the bells ring (the dakung linggay is surrounded by eight smaller bells), they can be heard eight kilometers away. The foundry where the bell was cast is not far away. According to church records, villagers collected 70 bags of coins to build the bell.
Pan-ay, eight kilometers east of Roxas Town, is one of the oldest towns in the Philippines. Founded by the Augustinians in 1581, it was the second Spanish colony established after Cebu.
