Fading Musing: Revisiting the Vanishing Craft of Pabalat

Pacesetter Newsroom
Pacesetter
Published in
6 min readJun 17, 2024

by Kristel Anne Vadal

Photo by Kristel Anne Vadal

There is no as harrowing as witnessing an art ceasing to exist.

The Philippines is globally recognized as an art country where various crafts stemmed and continuously propel. For several reasons, Pinoy art is known for its unique trait of infusing tradition and culture into beautiful masterpieces. This is why we earned an esteemed reputation and the mere reason the world fancy our gift.

Over many years, Philippine art sowed a thriving field where labor of love witnessed thousands of memories and plowed on.

However, behind this seemingly vibrant tale hides the bland pages of endangered heritage.

Photo by Kristel Anne Vadal

Hiking back

The dawn of modernization made an indelible mark on how Filipinos regard and perceive art. While some reshaped its lines, a handful of arts perpetually brawled death to prolong their threatened legacies.

Pabalat, otherwise known as Borlas de Pastillas is a handmade, intricate craft from San Miguel, Bulacan, popularized by its late bequeather Luz Ocampo.

Channeling artists’ creativity, patience, and mastery, Pabalat, which are originally made out of Japanese paper, comes in various designs, sizes, colors, and texture. Its primary purpose is to wrap creamy pastillas, advertise the sentimental thirst of Filipinos, and in essence, embellish centerpieces during feasts and family gatherings.

While the history of Pabalat is indeed radiant, its survival remains menaced and a hard nut to crack.

Maria Natividad “Nati” Ocampo-Castro, 65, a second-generation Pabalat artisan from Caniogan, Malolos, Bulacan, is one among few remaining hands behind these sightly papercuts.

As a daughter of the pioneering mind behind this wonder, Castro unfolded the clear dwindling of the art and how the succeeding events gravely affected its grit.

“Wala nang matiyaga maggugupit, mga bata ngayon, wala nang hilig dito sa mga handcrafted na arts, e,” she stated.

Like the majority, Castro once detested learning the craft and has never imagined herself ending like her mom.

“Ang gusto ko noon architecture. Ayaw ko nga nito , e, ang hirap-hirap, sabi ko.”

Now, 12 years later, she retracted this notion, found peace in paper cutting and eventually became an art keeper, conducting lectures, workshops, and continuously making Pabalat in bid to extend her mother’s legacy.

“Nung 2010, si Mommy Luz ay 88 years old na. So, nakita ko siya, may edad na. Talagang matanda na. Tinitingnan ko siya, gumugupit siya. Sino kaya ang gugupit ‘pag wala na si Mommy? Tinatanong ko ‘yung sarili ko, sino kaya ‘ka ko? So, nag-decide ako magretiro. Doon ko inaral ‘yung pabalat. Hindi naman niya sinabi sa akin ‘[na] pag-aralan mo.’ Nagkusa naman ako, kusang loob ko ‘yung paggupit, ‘yung aralin ‘yung craft niya,” she recalled.

Photo by Kristel Anne Vadal

A striking gift

To craft a Pabalat is to learn patience as this art could be tedious enough to transform any enthusiasts to apatheists.

Castro is a living testament as to how the art itself ironically tends to drive eager learners away because of its complexity.

“Wala, wala. Pag-alis ng ano [tao], matapos ang workshop, wala na. Hindi na nila tinuloy. Ang gusto lang nila, curious lang sila kung ano ‘yun. Tapos, wala na ‘yun. ‘Pag nahirapan, hindi na, hinto na. Lalo na ‘to, mahirap gawin ‘to,” Castro expounded. “‘Pag nagkamali ka dito. Sira na ‘yan , e. Tapon na ‘yan. Ulit ka na naman nang ganito. ‘Pag walang tiyaga, hindi matututo. Kaya tiyagaan.”

To create such a masterpiece, Castro first drafts her chosen design in a Japanese paper using soft pencils. After tracing, she will then start the meticulous process of cutting the punctuated areas using cuticle scissors.

“Hindi kami gumagamit ng cutter. ‘Yung iba gumagamit ng cutter pero ang talagang pabalat ay gunting ang ginagamit,” she said.

Castro also underlined the difference between Malolos and San Miguel’s variants of Pabalat, noting that in the latter, where it originated, tracing patterns is a crucial step while on the former, only paper folding and actual cutting matter.

When cutting, Ocampo said it is important to find the perfect area where you can pierce through the scissors to begin your way out. A single set of Pabalat may consume 5–10 minutes but time may still vary depending on the design and size.

Castro also highlighted how designs of Pabalat changed over time in order to meet the demands of the current time. Now, customized patterns are more requested than the first and renowned designs of Ocampo’s like one that features Philippines’ bahay kubo with coconut trees.

With most restyling from composed to impatient, the art of Pabalat is truly vanishing into thin air.

“Dati kasi sa San Miguel maraming gumagawa. Mga pami-pamilya ‘yun. Ngayon, komo nga walang napasahan sa pamilya, [namamatay] ang tradition,” Castro explained.

With only few remaining artisans, the story of Pabalat and the survival of the heritage it holds is precisely in peril.

Renewing wonders

Reviving this craft is seemingly beyond the stretch of an imagination, yet, hopes of sustaining its history are still blazing.

Dr. Angel Recto, 59, humanities and philosophy professor and archaeologist from the College of Social Sciences and Philosophy (CSSP) of Bulacan State University (BulSU) is among those who firmly believes that the future of Pabalat lies significantly on the present generation.

He also emphasized in an interview with Pacesetter the value of teaching the art of Pabalat to BulSUans as he believed many of them are unaware of its colorful narrative.

“Unang-una maraming BulSUans na hindi alam kung ano ‘to, bahagi ito ng kultura, bahagi ng tradisyon na tinatawag nating pamana. Pamanang Kultura o Cultural heritage. So, importanteng malaman din nila, na minsan ay nag-exist ‘yung ganito,” he stated.

In his 26 years stay in the institution, Recto is cognizant of the dying Philippine arts including Bulacan’s pride — Pabalat. And although the craft is rarely introduced nowadays, he is still convinced that it remains to be the province’s, even nation’s, vivid honor.

“Oo naman, pride talaga. Maipagmamalaki. Anong meron sa Bulacan? Borlas de Pastillas, Pabalat. Wala sa iba,” he concluded.

On the other hand, Art Appreciation Professor Jovita Punzalan, 51, from CSSP-BulSU, shed light on the value of preserving such art, particularly those being left out of modernization.

“Sa lawak ng nasakop ng contemporary arts at ang explosion of creativity, napag-iiwanan na ang ilan sa mga local arts natin tulad ng Pabalat,” she stated.

Punzalan, just like Recto, also stressed the substance of teaching Pabalat to BulSUans.

“Mahalaga na ito ay maipasa lalo na sa BulSUans, sapagkat bilang [mga] Bulakenyo nararapat na may kaalaman ang mga kabataan sa ating sining at kultura. Makakatulong din na huwag itong mawala sa kamalayan ng mga susunod na henerasyon kung ito ay isasama sa mga subject na may kinalaman sa arts. Sa ganitong paraan kahit papaano ay mababalikan nila ang pinagmulan at kahalagahan ng mga dying arts na katulad nito,” she clarified.

Whilst success for remaining Pabalat makers is still at the end of the rainbow, Castro still hopes this heritage will never be lost to sight. Her wish is for Filipino youth to learn the craft and find the magic as she found crafting it with a heart.

“Sana matutunan ng mga bata ito. Huwag lang basta sa libro nakikita,” she said.

Pabalat — in spite of being a sweet wrapper is a perfect reminder that arts, just like our stories, may fade but will forever leave a mark.

Kristel Anne Vadal is the Features Editor of Pacesetter for A.Y. 2023–2024. She is a fourth-year journalism student from the College of Arts and Letters.

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