Butt Catchers Over the Years

The eye-catching title of architect Gerard Lico’s illustrated pocketbook, Salumpuwit: Chairs in Filipino Life (Quezon City, 2023) raises the question why the author chose that word instead of the more common silya or upuan. While “salumpuwit” (literally “butt-catcher”) was invented in the 1950s in a quest for so-called “native words,” one has yet to hear it used in normal conversation, except in jest. Apparently, it was invented as a neologism to poke fun at eminent writer and linguist Lope K. Santos’s alleged purisms. “salumpuwit,” according to the late poet Marne Kilates, is not found in any Filipino dictionary. It exists more as a joke than a serious word.

The 181-page tome takes us from pre-Hispanic times when Filipino ancestors preferred to rest on their haunches, shared common benches, or reserved elevated seats for tribal leaders or the nobility.  A papag (bamboo cot) could serve as a bench, a table or even a daybed. The section on “Filipino ways of sitting” says that Filipino languages have as many as 19 words for “sitting.” Spanish had also crept into the language, such as “angkas” (to hitch a ride) from the word ancas, or the horse’s haunches or behind.

Gerard Lico's "Salumpuwit: Chairs in Filipino Life" (Source: philippinebooks.com)

The Spanish colonizers would have been quick to introduce their versions of the chair to impress on the natives the significance of such a high perch.  One may speculate that early versions might have built on the model of the primordial bangko, which one also finds in Indonesian as bangku. The Italians had also used long benches for money dealers, from which originated our word for “bank.” The Philippine version sometimes has railings on three sides as in China, which could easily have served as an opium-bed.

Both Royal officials and friars used prototypes that would later be termed the “sillon de fraile” and “silla episcopal” for the religious, and the Carlos Trece, the 18th century official chair in neoclassical style much reproduced today by Pampango craftsmen for the dining rooms of the “newly rich.” No such Spanish King as Charles XIII ever existed and “Tercero” or “the Third” had been transformed into “Trece” or 13. The Bishop’s chairs “were usually polychromed, parcel-gilded, and upholstered in velvet.”  The Rector’s Chair reproduced in Santo Tomas University is both royal and pontifical; indeed, a Carlos Trece was used by Pope John Paul II during his visit in UST at a prayer rally on February 18, 1981.

Chairs that gained much currency in colonial times reflecting local culture were the gallinera and the silla perezosa (a lazy chair). The former, still popular as an accent piece nowadays, has the singular feature of a lower portion serving as a cage where a peasant could deposit a rooster (or gallo) during a visit to a bahay na bato (stone house).  The silla perezosa or butaca was a lounge chair where a male could put up his feet while taking a nap during a tropical afternoon siesta. A functional chair was the kudkuran, a bench coconut grater. An elegant version of the gallinera without the cage underneath was the kapiya, a liturgical bench in colonial churches; its name might have derived from the Spanish word for chapel, capilla.

Moving into the 19th century, secular chairs for the elite included two sofa types, the diban, which was inspired by the Turkish divan, and the mariposa, or butterfly chair. The latter may have been used by a couple a-courting with a discreet division in the middle. This author is reminded of a butterfly chair from his ancestral home on which Andres Bonifacio (bleeding from wounds) sat in Maragondon, Cavite during his kangaroo trial in  May 1897.

Occasional chairs light enough to be moved to the sides in case of social events like dances were distributed in the living rooms. Some of these were therefore named silya lateral, or side chairs with comfortable arm rests.

Pictures from the Intramuros Ateneo de Manila and the San Juan de Letran colleges show sillas de montaje, chairs used for assembly halls, auditoriums, and other congregational spaces, as well as chairs connected to desks via trestle feet. Our heroes like Jose Rizal and Juan Luna would have been familiar with these in the classrooms, where they sat while their mentors taught from a high platform.

Evoking terror during the Spanish era were chairs for the garrote, used to execute criminals by strangling.  In American times, these were replaced by the supposedly more humane silla electrica. No less than Thomas Edison had a hand in the latter’s invention.

A bridge between the Spanish and American epochs was the Vienna or Bentwood chair, invented by Michael Thonet in 1840 as a piece of knockdown furniture. The silla de Vienna was interpreted by Filipinos in rattan and wood bent to accommodate the human figure.  Such chairs in their lightest and simplest form could be speedily spread out for mass gatherings.

Ice cream parlors such as Clarke’s in Manila featured the batibot chair, “a side chair with looped iron-wire back and legs.”   Just as ice cream parlor chairs were associated with childhood, Batibot was a popular TV children’s educational program in the ‘80s and ‘90s.   In Tagalog, batibot means robust, sturdy or rigid, attributes applicable to the chair and strong kids.

The new American dispensation saw the introduction of trade schools, which encouraged woodworking and furniture as part of the curriculum for male students throughout the country.  This would later see its fruition, inter alia, in the furniture produced in prisons. like the infamous Bilibid.  Even President Manuel L. Quezon and the Presidential Palace patronized and supported the production of such furniture.

The magisterial throne was reinvented in the humbler servicio or wooden latrine, which improved on the unhygienic Antipolo style of disposing of human waste through buckets.  On the other hand, Filipinos excelled in the manufacture of the peacock chair, used in Carnival days to ensconce beauty queens in all their glory. This wicker chair was also marketed as a Bilibid Chair, costing a then-princely sum of P45.00.

Elegant Art Nouveau and Art Deco chairs, still extant in some ancestral homes, reflect Philippine inventiveness and artistry.  Architects like   Andres Luna de San Pedro, Tomas Mapua, Juan Arellano, and Angel Nakpil would have commissioned pieces of furniture fit for their magnificent buildings. Puyat’s Furniture on Solana Street in Intramuros advertised itself as the “Alma Mater” of the Finest Furniture Made in the Philippines.  By the 1920s, Philippine rattan and reed furniture were being exported to the United States. Puyat’s also manufactured wheelchairs, Art Deco dentist chairs, and barber chairs.  The Ambassador’s Chair was in Art Deco style that uniquely recalls the aspirations of the middle class of the era.

Unfortunately, the Second World War devastated Manila and its splendid Walled City, erasing centuries of tradition. What pieces of vintage furniture survived were usually in the provinces or in areas untouched by the bombing of the nation’s capital. Nevertheless, Filipinos rallied to rebuild their ruined city and continued to create new styles in step with world trends.

The new designers and architects included Wili Fernandez, Ched Berenguer-Topacio, Lor Calma, Edgar Ramirez and Myrna Fernandez, Johnny Hubilla, Gerry Contreras and Evelyn Vales Garcia.  They represented the new “Modernism,” which meant “straightforward and no-nonsense geometry” in which form followed function.  No longer did the wealthy have a monopoly on style. Magazines and advertising helped educate the public on what was current in Europe and the United States.  Moreover, one did not have to have a ton of money to achieve the modern look.  Indeed, “excessive and inessential ornamentation (were) frowned upon.”

Nevertheless, Filipino designers drew from their rich cultural heritage by using local materials such as bamboo, wicker, and rattan while referencing ethnic motifs, Spanish wrought iron, folk colors and crafts. They also used steel, leather, and industrial materials for a modern look.   The Marcos era with its imperial and pseudo-nationalist overtones popularized the highly florid Betis Baroque on the one hand and on the other, the bahay kubo nouveau vernacular movement.


The silla perezosa or butaca was a lounge chair where a male could put up his feet while taking a nap during a tropical afternoon siesta.


In the meantime, Betty Cobonpue, mother of today’s renowned style icon and furniture designer Kenneth Cobonpue, was already pioneering in daring sculptural furniture such as her pencil rattan chair.  The next generation of Filipino designers no longer just went with trends from abroad; they were themselves innovators and trend-setters.  National Artist Napoleon Abueva’s benches were “whimsical, literary, fantastic and even erotic.”  Freed from set ideas on what a chair was, designers churned out fabulous designs equal to any in New York or Milan, where they are collected.  These included Jerry Araos, Benji Reyes, Claude Tayag, Ugo Bigyan, Milo Naval, Eric Paras, Ann Pamintuan, Leo Almeria, Jed Yabut, Budji Layug, Ito Kish, Vanessa Gaston, Willie Garcia, Ted Pasola, Vito Selma, and the redoubtable Cobonpue.

A recent 2024 exhibit at the National Museum displayed a marvelous variety of furniture design, showing how Filipinos have yet again transformed foreign ideas of a chair into something truly their own. Rajah Sulayman of Manila or Queen Juana of Cebu might have felt at home in one of these modern chairs. Salumpuwit, anyone?

For inquiries on purchases abroad, please email: archlico.ph@gmail.com and upca_admin.upd@up.edu.ph


A career diplomat of 35 years, Ambassador Virgilio A. Reyes, Jr. served as Philippine Ambassador to South Africa (2003-2009) and Italy (2011-2014), his last posting before he retired. He has written and edited six books, including Gloria: Roman Leoncio’s Kapampangan Translation of Huseng Batute’s Poem-Novel (Center for Kapampangan Studies, 2003) given the National Book award in 2004; In the National Interest: The Philippines and the UN: Issues of Disarmament, Peace and Security, 1986-1991(NY and Manila, 1991); La Revolucion Filipina, 1896-1898, El Nacimiento de Una Idea (Santiago de Chile, 1998); Nuestro Perdido Eden: A Novella on Manila (Ateneo de Naga Press, 2019); A Memory of Time collection of essays (Quezon City, 2020); and We Remember Rex@100 (Quezon City, 2022).


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