Textile Historian • Cultural Worker • Writer • Founder, Oriental Weaves Philippines
Bernard Joseph Esposo Guerrero is a cultural worker and textile researcher whose work resides at the intersection of history, community, and material heritage. Based in the Philippines, Bernard has spent the last decade immersed in the study of indigenous weaving traditions, historic garments, and the narratives of the artisans who carry these legacies forward. His writing, research, and public engagement efforts are deeply rooted in the belief that textiles are not just functional materials — they are vessels of memory, identity, labor, and resistance.
Bernard is the founder of Oriental Weaves Philippines, a research and curatorial initiative that documents and promotes Philippine textile traditions through exhibits, publications, and heritage education. Through this platform, he has worked alongside weavers, embroiderers, and local historians in communities across the country — including Abra, Ilocos Norte, Kalinga, Panay, Lumban, and Lake Sebu — co-producing narratives that are grounded in cultural respect and academic rigor.
His collaborations span government institutions and national museums, having served as a researcher and consultant to the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), the Department of Tourism (DOT), the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI), and the National Museum of the Philippines, where he played key roles in content development, curation, and textile preservation. In 2023, he curated a full exhibition at the Hibla Pavilion in San Francisco for the Philippine Consulate General, presenting rare weaves and embroideries to diaspora audiences.
Bernard’s work is both local and global. He has presented his research at international gatherings, including the World Ikat Textiles Symposium, the Asian Fabrics Symposium in Bangkok, and multiple university conferences. He is an active contributor to publications such as the Manila Bulletin, Asia Times, and BusinessMirror, where he shares stories on culture, heritage, and the socio-political contexts of material culture.
He holds a Bachelor’s degree in History from UP Diliman, where he graduated cum laude, and a post-graduate Diploma in Cultural Heritage Studies. Bernard is also engaged in conservation efforts related to UNESCO World Heritage Sites, participating in management planning, community mapping, and policy work tied to heritage safeguarding.
At the heart of Bernard’s work is a commitment to ethical storytelling — ensuring that the hands behind every weave are named, valued, and supported. Whether through essays, exhibitions, or workshops, he advocates for the cultural, economic, and emotional importance of Philippine textiles in a rapidly changing world.
For Bernard, each thread is a historical document. And each weave is a story waiting to be shared.
Celebrating Weaving, Culture, and Slow Fashion in a Creative Collective Space
Hibla, a proudly Filipino brand dedicated to preserving and reimagining indigenous weaving traditions, is excited to announce its new space at The Astbury, Makati’s creative hub for independent brands and cultural makers.
Starting this June 20, Hibla is open every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 11AM to 6PM at The Astbury—a thoughtfully curated community of local, independent creatives located in the heart of the city. The new home marks a significant step for Hibla as it continues to weave heritage into everyday wear, experiences, and collaborations.
“Being part of The Astbury allows us to be in conversation with fellow local makers and reach a wider audience who value meaning, story, and craft in what they wear,” shares Nice Marquez, Founder of Hibla.
The space will soon feature Hibla’s signature handwoven apparel, made-to-order options, textile swatches, and slow fashion pieces crafted with fabrics like Binakol, Inabel, Kantarines, and Hablon.
Select days will also include custom fittings, weaving workshops, and culture-forward events that invite guests to learn more about the living traditions behind the fabric.
This soft launch also coincides with the beta launch of Hibla’s official website, where visitors can now read well-researched articles, explore weaves, and test the Customize My Attire feature to create their own heritage pieces online.
Whether you’re a cultural worker, textile enthusiast, or curious creative soul, you’re invited to step into Hibla’s new home—where threads are stories, and stories are woven to be worn.
Visit Us: 📍 The Astbury, Makati 🗓️ Mondays, Wednesdays & Fridays 🕚 11:00 AM – 6:00 PM 🌐 hiblaphilippines.com
Mindanao ikat traditions belong a larger body of weaves of tie-dyed textiles in Southeast Asia. Common motifs demonstrate shared knowledge not only in techniques but also in their worldviews through their patterns and beliefs associated with weaving.
We know, for example, tha the Tbolis of the Philippines are regarded as dream weavers. They translate into weavable patterns the images and experiences they have received in their dreams through the visits of Fu Dalu, the goddess of the abaca (Musa textilis). Parallel traditions are also observed in the Iban weavers of Pua Kumbu in Sarawak, and in Indonesian ikat weaving found in the islands of Sumba, Flores, and West Nusa Tengarra.
The use of abaca, however, is unique as Mindanao ikat weavers and the ikat weavers of a southern island in Japan are the only ones known using the material in their weaves. Hence, Mindanao ikat have a special place in the family of broader Southeast Asian ikat categories.
Examining a mid-century specimen of Tbalak with the late textile collector and curator Floy Quintos. The item with minute patterns is in the collection of the author
Philippine ikat traditions are spread out across the archipelago, with most textiles being produced in Mindanao. Before, diving into the indigenous groups that make them, it is important to note that there have been ikat traditions that are threatened if not have gone extinct.
One of them is the Gompak Pulaw ikat of the Subanen in Zamboanga peninsula where extant examples are now largely found in museums and private collections. The last weaver passed away several decades ago. In the north, up until a few years ago, Candon in Ilocos Sur still had its last ikat weaver making the Inuwes, a burial cloth made specifically for one indigenous group in the Mountain Province.
Documentations on these two traditions are very scarce, and there seem little interventions made to rekindle them. It is also important to know that the oldest retrieved warp ikat specimen in Southeast Asia is the abaca Banton burial cloth, recovered in Romblon and is now on display at the National Museum of the Philippines.
Tnalak of the Tboli (South Cotabato)
Tnalak is a scared textile woven by a select few women in Lake Sebu who traditionally receive the patterns of their weaves from their dreams. These dreams reflect their core values, understanding of the universe and human relationships, and respect for their environments. The highest expression of tnalak weaving is seen in the most valued blankets called Ye Kumo.
The Late National Living Treasure Lang Dulay have helped in the documentation of more than 100 patterns and have jumpstarted the revival and promotion of tnalak to a wider audience.
Presently, master weavers such as National Living Treasure Barbara Ofong are safeguarding the tradition by teaching the younger generation of the cultural and practical importance of this textile, as well as in protecting it from improper commercialization.
Photo from our partner weaving group in Lake Sebu
Inabal of the Tagabawa Bagobo (Davao del Sur)
Inabal are considered prestige items among the Tagabawa Bagobo.
They are, for example, considered to provide a blanket of protection to a household. The late National Living Treasure Salinta Monon was the last of her generation to practice the weaving of this ikat tradition. She was known to be one of the few who could execute the most difficult pattern, the sacred binuwaya (crocodile). Though not as well known as the Tnalak of the Tbolis, inabal is equally sophisticated in design and production.
An inabal woven by one of the current master ikat weavers of Bansalan in Davao del Sur who learned from the late National Living Treasure Salinta Monon
Mabal Tabih of the Blaan (Davao del Sur)
The production of Mabal Tabih has similarities to that of Tnalak, but some patterns produced are finer, and the design fields are denser in motifs. Natural dyes are being used in the process, and the best expressions of this weaving tradition results in their exquisite tubular skirts.
The late National Living Treasure Yabing Masalon Dulo is considered as one of the best culture bearers, not only in weaving but also in other cultural expressions such as traditional healing.
A special kind of tabih is the one that is redder in color. The family of the late master weaver was able to inherit the knowledge and they continue the tradition to this day.
Participation for on-site weaving during the 2005 MunaTo Festival with her students. Photo by IPDP.
Tabih is now gaining more popularity and is becoming more accessible thanks to the growing number of present-day weavers that the community has.
Dagmay of the Mandaya (Davao Oriental)
Traditionally, dagmay is woven using abaca, but there are also old samples that are woven using cotton. One of the few remaining masters who can execute dagmay in both medium is National Living Treasure Samporonia Madanlo.
Sharing strong similarities with Tnalak and Tabih, dagmay differs in that it is not polished in the final stage of production, yielding to a coarser textile.
Another exceptional feature of dagmay is that it is able to represent anthropomorphic figures in their patterns – a tradition not observed in other Mindanao ikat.
The human figures are highly revered as they are said to honor ancestors of the Mandaya. The reptilian motif is equally considered as a highpoint of their cultural expressions in weaving.
Image courtesy of Philippine Star – “Mandaya and modern artistry in Lanang” (2014) Source
Biyaludan of the Iranun (Sultan Kudarat and North Cotabato)
One of the most sophisticated among the various categories of Iranun weaving (they are also proficient in supplementary weft weaving), biyaludan was traditional woven using silk which ties the weaving tradition to the maritime Silk Road.
Today, the more available material rayon is used as the alternative. The iranun expresses the biyadulan mostly in their tubular skirts called malong.
Compared to their previous ikat traditions mentioned, the Iranun does not exhibit horror vacui, or the fear of empty spaces in their weaves. Biyaludan is also called binaludan, the term used by the Meranaw people for their ikat weaves.
Binaludan of the Meranaw (Lanao del Norte and Lanao del Sur)
The binaludan of the Menaraw are some of the most colorful ikat traditions to come out of Mindanao. They go beyond the trinity of colors (red, black and natural hue of the abaca) that the other weaving traditions observe. Aside from warp ikat weaving, they are also adept in weft ikat weaving, a trait they share with the Iranun.
A special technique that the Meranaw have combine the two ikat techniques resulting in what is called double ikat which can be appreciated in their most prized malong called malong aandon.
The elusive malong aandon traces its origins to the Patola weaves of Gujarat in India. Often laid out in vertical strips, the balud patterns are also unique, where the older specimens feature more elaborate designs and motifs. Binaludan comes out in their malong, blankets and lalansay (draperies backdropping the most important walls of the royal abodes called torogan).
Originally from the southern island of Basilan, the Yakans are an indigenous people with a rich cultural history. Considered to have one of the finest weaving traditions in the country, Yakan tenun has gained immense popularity when some of them moved to the Zamboanga peninsula, giving them closer access to a wider audience.
Yakan tenun weaving embraces a wide repertoire of techniques ranging from the basic bunga to the complex sinaluan. Their intricate headscarf called seputangan is a prized item. A lot of colors are put into the patterns, and no space is left empty in the textile. While it appears to bear floral patterns, it does not. When the minute details of the seputangan are broken down, it reveals that what looks like a flower is in fact a montage of several patterns symbolizing mountains, grains, ladders, the eyes, among others (Pasilan, nd).
Sumping-sumping (Yakan Flower)
According to the descendants of the late National Living Treasure Awardee Ambalang Ausalin, the Yakans are not as abundant as the Ilocanos in the use of floral motifs. They use abstract geometric patterns instead. However, there is one exemption: the sumping-sumping. As the only floral motif to come out of the Yakans, the sumping-sumping does not even represent or imitate any real flower; hence, it is still considered to be an abstract figure.
The sumping-sumping bears similarities with the Ilocano bulbulala in a way that is a basic pattern composed of petals radiating from a central point. While the bulbulala has a curved edge, the sumping-sumping has a pointed one. When Ausalin was still alive, she shared what she believed is that the closest real-life flower that the sumping-sumping may represent: the flower of the cosmos plant (Cosmos bipinnatus) that grows abundantly in their weaving village in Lamitan City. It is interesting to note that the cosmos plant comes from Mexico, and weavers of Mexico also have a pattern that closely resemble the sumping-sumping.
A further investigation may be needed to explore possible connections.
Figure 3: The late National Living Treasure Ambalang Ausalin weaving an inalaman with sumping-sumping, and a cosmos flower
The sumping-sumping usually occurs in bunga weaves, as well as in an inalaman and a pinalantupan, both of which are traditionally used by Yakan women as waist covers. The sumping-sumping can be made using just one color, or having each of its petals bear different colors. It can also be the case wherein in one petal, various shades of a color can be used, suggesting the impressive color sensitivity and penchant of the Yakan weavers for producing vividly colorful textiles.
The Blaans
The Blaans are known for two traditional woven art: the mabal tabih, an ikat weave using abaca (Musa textilis), and the igem, a mat weave using pandan leaves (Pandanus amaryllifolius). The mabal tabih bears uncanny resemblances to the ikat traditions of the Tbolis and the Bagobos, heavily donned with abstract patterns depicting nature and animals. According to ikat weavers from the Blaan, Tboli, and Bagobo groups, there are no floral patterns known to them. However, in igem mat weaving, there is a pattern that is indirectly associated with a flower.
Figure 4: Yakan Sumping-sumping in a purple inalaman, and Blaan Dak sina
Dak sina (Blaan Toy/Flower)
One of the most iconic patterns to come out of igem weaving, which was popularized by National Living Treasure Awardee Estelita Bantilan of Sarangani province, is the dak sina. The dak sina pattern is laid out in two colors, the neutral hue of dried pandan leaves and the black naturally dyed strips of the same natural material.
Although it appears like stars, the dak sina is said to be inspired by a Blaan toy made of folded palm leaves. This toy looks like a wind spinner, but it is not as it is never used as such by the community. It simply is a four-armed work used as a décor or as something that the Blaan children would use during their plays.
When asked about the inspiration of the toy from which the dak sina is based on, Lorcita Bantilan, the daughter of Estelita Bantilan, shares it is meant to represent a flower, i.e., that the toy imitates a flower, and the toy in turn is the basis for the dak sina pattern. Therefore, the dak sina is indirectly a representation of a flower (2022).
Philippine Weaves: A Situationer
Philippine weaving is currently seeing a massive revival not seen since the post-war. The darkest period in Philippine weaving would be in the 60s to 70s when economic shifts were happening, propelling weavers to abandon their craft for more profitable pursuits. This was also the time when Philippine cotton production has plunged deep to near extinction.
The weavers who stayed with the craft, unfortunately, resorted to using cheaper, most accessible alternative materials such as polyster-cotton blends and pure polyester threads from China (Guerrero, 2021). Despite the Renaissance that the Philippine weaving is experiencing, what has been lost are the traditional meanings attached to these works and their patterns. The drive for weaving nowadays is largely commercial, rather than as a means of expression for and by the artist-weaver.
The vast number of textiles being produced today only suggests that many are being trained to produce sellable template patterns, repeated over and over again. The master weavers, on the other hand, those who are skilled enough to produce, modify, and reinterpret patterns and designs, are being left behind with little incentive to continue with the real spirit of traditional weaving that yields to rare and unique master works. The thinning number of old master weavers is concerning as it may mean the loss of older patterns that have neither yet been documented nor reproduced recently.
Another problem arises when weaving, as a potential source of livelihood, is being introduced carelessly to communities that do not have a history of weaving. The issue arises when patterns specific to one community and is held by that community as uniquely their own is being taught to another, as this blurs the lines of cultural identities and their boundaries. “The rise of low-cost handwoven textiles in the market lately, on the other hand, got me more concerned than ecstatic.
The quality is not like what it used to be anymore. Nowadays, loosely woven inabel blankets, for example, are being produced in a factory-like speed using inferior threads. Naturally, sellers compensate this with dazzling marketing gimmicks. Stiff competition has even led to some Yakan patterns being copied somewhere else only to be sold off as ‘Yakan-made,’ making us wonder if they could still be considered authentic.” (Guerrero (b), 2021)
Works Cited List:
Guatlo, R. (2013). “Abel Iloco,” in Habi: A Journey Through Philippine Handwoven Textiles. Manila: Vibal Publishing House
Guerrero, B. (2021). “Sinukitan: Research and Documentation of the Supplementary Weft Handloom Weaving in Paoay, Ilocos Norte.” Baguio City: Museo Kordilyera, Corditex Project
Guerrero (b), B. (2021). “Philippine Weaves: A Collector’s Journey”. Makati City: Tony & Nick , BusinessMirror
Pastor-Roces, M. (1991). “Sinaunang Habi: Philippine Ancestral Weaves.” Manila: Kyodo Printing Company
Respicio, N. (1996). “Abel ti Amianan,” a handout in the Sulyap Kultura II Exhibition of the Northern Philippine Textiles. Manila: National Commission for Culture and the Arts
Valmonte, J. (1988). “Textile Industry of Ilocos (1758-1819),” a paper in History. Quezon City: University of the Philipppines Diliman
Philippine weaving is an ancient traditional art that has persisted through time. While other forms of traditional arts are highly threatened such as chants, tattooing, as well as regional cuisines, a revival that has been never seen since the end of World War II is observed in textile production and appreciation at present. This can be seen in the growth of stores dedicated to locally handmade textiles as well as online shops.
Philippine textiles are a rich repository of traditional Filipino patterns, symbols, and cultural wealth (Pastor-Roces, 1991), and flowers are a universal language. When floral motifs are expressed on a weave, it transcends cultural boundaries and can communicate not only what flowers the artists are exposed to, but, more importantly, it becomes a crucial element in the formation of their worldviews and identities. A flower pattern can stand alone or can be combined with others (such as animal or abstract patterns) to suggest a more sophisticated artwork.
The penchant for using floral motifs may also not only be a personal choice of the weaver, but a predisposed attraction that has been running across generations in his or her family. Some of these patterns are largely associated with works of National Living Treasure Awardees of the Philippines as well, as in the case of the Inubon a Sabong (String of Flowers) with Magdalena Gamayo. This paper explores some floral patterns expressed in four weaving groups in the Philippines: Ilocanos and Tingguians, Yakans, and Blaans. It also discusses the status of Philippine weaves as well as presents a framework in the assessment of handwoven textiles.
The Ilocanos and Tingguians
The Ilocanos and the Tingguians are two separate groups in the north that share the same language. Though the Tingguians are classified as indigenous people, the ilocanos are not. The former would largely be concentrated in the Cordillera highlands, while the latter would be in the lowlands of the Ilocos Region (Region 1). Given their proximity with one another, their weaving history is almost intertwined if not shared. Patterns and themes expressed have similarities as well as differences, but the traditional execution contrasts: the Tingguians are more adept in the use of backstrap looms, and the Ilocanos, the upright looms.
Northern Philippine weave has been observed to be the most prolific in producing floral patterns in their textiles. Some of these are still in production today and may even have undergone changes, while others can only be appreciated as relics of the past with only few surviving samples left.
In a town called Paoay in the province of Ilocos Norte, packets of weaving communities thrive, each having their own specialization: the Barangay Nalasin, for example, is proficient in the sinukitan technique (supplementary weft), while the areas surrounding Paoay Lake are homes to weavers who are skilled in the kundiman technique (multi-heddle). The town also saw the largest volume of traded inabel during the Galleon Trade (Respicio, 1999), and this could be accounted for by its high number of weavers and the fact that the port of Currimao, an intermediary galleon trade port, was then still part of the town (Guerrero, 2021). It has also been reported that the inabel of the north was the most heavily exported Philippine textile during that period (Valmonte 1988).
Plants and flowers may be the most popular motifs in sinukitan inabel, as well as the most prolific in terms of variations. The sinan-rositas (rosette-like) has been observed to vary from weaver to weaver. Finer details appear to have been lost in modern renditions and the pattern has become significantly larger, allowing easier production. The sinan-bulbulala (cross-section of a flower-like) and the sinan-rositas are thought to be the oldest representations of a flower from the said weaving community (Guerrero, 2021).
Sabong ti Parya (Flower of the Bittergourd) and Lopis (Cottonball)
The interesting Sabong ti Parya pattern is sought-after for its beauty and rarity. The persisting version indicates rococo elements with its highly ornate curving tendrils, foliage, and framing. The pattern is an heirloom pattern of one family, the Ralleca-Cabugon, and has been passed on for four generations of weavers in the town of Paoay. The significance of the pattern is equally telling as the parya (Tagalog: ampalaya), plays a crucial role in the Ilocano cuisine and is consumed in various ways such as in pinakbet (Ilocano vegetable stew). Its blanched leaves are also eaten as a local salad.
Blanket with the heirloom sinan-sabong ti parya (bittergourd flower-like)
The same weaving family is also known to produce another pattern that is currently not made by others: the sinan-lopis (cottonball-like). The first photo below is the lopis pattern made by the Ralleca-Cabugon family, while the second one is from a 1960s cotton blanket bearing the same pattern but rendered differently. The lopis is also held dearly among weavers and textile collectors alike as it illustrates how a weaving material, cotton in this case, is held dearly by the Ilocanos and Tingguians considering that the Ilocos region used to be the largest producer of cotton in the Philippines until all the cotton plantations were decimated in World War II (Respicio, 1999).
Figure 2: Older versions of the Ilocano/Tingguian lopis (cottonball)
Rositas (Rosettes)
The sinan-rositas has been observed to vary from weaver to weaver, and it appears to be a highly favored motif in inabel weaving. It is an abstract representation of a generic flower usually appearing in blankets, bed covers and pillowcases. The oldest specimens of a rositas recovered during the study are from the early 1920s and are laid out in the rigodon orientation where two patterns occur alternatingly and are equally rendered in two alternating colors. A rigodon could be set in a wide permutation of two patterns of the same motif made differently, or two separate patterns of two differing motifs (Guerrero, 2021).
The rositas can also be combined with other patterns and motifs forming a more complex design field, such as in the cases of the pabo (Peacock/ Turkey) and the aguila (Double-headed Eagle). The pabo and aguila are two enduring patterns that are believed to have been conceived during the Spanish period. The pabo is considered as the most intricate patterns to come out of the sinukitan inabel weaving category as it uses as much as 168 design sticks to complete the assymetrical pattern. The aguila, on the other hand, has a deep history as it is the local reinterpretation of an Augustinian symbol (it also appearing in the coat of arms of the Habsburg), the order that established the town of Paoay. In both, the rositas is laid out as part of a garland frame encasing the birds. The aguila and specially the pabo have long been considered as status symbols and were only afforded by the members of the alta sociedad back in the day.
Figure 3 Ilocano rositas (Rosettes) and rositas garland surrounding a pabo (Turkey).
The influences of the structure of the rositas also extend to non-floral patterns. Features are instantly noticed to have been derived from the rositas in portraying stylized crabs (kappi), corns (mais-mais), rice cakes (baduya, a traditional rice cake in Paoay prepared during all Saint’s Day), and the 20-centavo American period coin (binting pattern). To the untrained eye and those who are new in the textile world, the four patterns mentioned above can easily be mistaken as versions of the rositas, although clearly they depict something else. The need to maintain the patterns’ identities and original names are important to keep so that they are never lost.
While the ornate, traditional rositas versions are still being produced, albeit in small scales, simpler ones are now developing and are the ones heavily saturating the market.
Bulbulala (Cross-section of a Flower)
Another enduring motif is the bulbulala, of which the oldest specimen examined is an early 20th century handspun, vegetable-dyed cotton blanket. Marketed inaccurately today as the “orange slices” pattern, the bulbulala is possibly the simplest, most basic floral motif from the north. Observed to have been a largely fossilized pattern, the bulbulala has changed little and offers minimal permutations in its depiction; it contrasts massively with the circumstances of the rositas. It is characterized by eight curve-edge petals pivoting around a circle and is likewise commonly laid out in two alternating colors. The Ilocanos and the Tingguians differ from the weaving traditions in Mindanao by their minimal use of colors and ability to embrace wide empty spaces in between patterns. Mindanao weavers have the proclivity to use a wide array of colors and are noted to be afflicted with horror-vacui, the fear of spaces (Guerrero, 2021).
A modern version of bulbulala (cross-section of a flower)
A recent version of bulbulala surfaced in Ilocos Norte, and instead of having solid petals, the pattern is assembled in a pointillist manner that is achieved by using more interlocking warp threads that consequently break down the inserted supplementary weft threads. Other than this version, the bulbulala appears the same as it was, possibly, when it was first conceived.
Inubon a Sabong (String of Flowers)
The most famous floral pattern to come out of Ilocano inabel weaving is the inubon a sabong¸ which has become almost synonymous with National Living Treasure (Manlilikha ng Bayan) Magdalena Gamayo of Pinili, Ilocos Norte. The pattern is complicated to achieve as it uses a combination of supplementary warps and supplementary wefts crossing each other creating a plaid-like arrangement. The technique of weaving that is utilized in creating the inubon a sabong is called impalagto, which falls under the multi-heddle (four pedaled loom) category of weaving. The pattern can also be achieved using the sinukitan weaving technique, but it would take a highly skilled weaver to be able to precisely replicate it.
While Gamayo does not claim to have created the pattern herself and admits having copied it from a piece she saw when she was young, the pattern, over time, has widely been recognized and institutionalized to be her masterpiece. A sample of which is on display at the National Museum of the Philippines. The inubon a sabong is said to have been inspired by a quintessential Ilocano child’s favorite past-time: connecting strands of flowers of the ornamental santan plant (Ixora coccinea) from one end to another to make a floral string and is usually worn as a bracelet.
Binakol is one of the most iconic inabel weaving traditions to come out of the northern Philippines. It is easily distinguishable for its minimal use of colors –most of the time utilizing only two tones– and its highly precise warp and weft counting that results in various patterns that are so desired today as it was back in the past.
Binakol as a Shared Tradition
Binakol may have come from the Ilocano word, binukel, which refers to the creation of circles and spheroids. The most popular binakol pattern is the kusikos (Whirlpool-like). It has been observed that while both the lowland and upland northern Philippines culturally share the binakol, it has been shown that lowland weavers have a penchant for creating smaller circles. In a regular 18-inch width textile, for example, they can fit as much as eight to nine kusikos. One esteemed weaver who can accomplish this is the centenarian National Living Treasure Magdalena Gamayo from Pinili, Ilocos Norte.
The researcher with Manlilikha ng Bayan Magdalena Gamayo weaving binakol with the kusikos pattern
The weavers of Abra and Ilocos Sur, on the other hand, have a higher propensity in using more than two colors in their binakol, creating more vibrant and colorful permutations. Older binakol specimens from the Tingguians, mostly in the form of ules (blankets), are embellished with embroideries of their highly-prized symbols such as the frogs, rice stalks, and footprints. The weaving communities of Paoay exhibit a wide range of interpretations of the kusikos. Some binakol are lined, while others are partitioned in a grid-like manner. This seemingly creates boundaries among the circles. The town of Sarrat has even made binakol their specialty product, so much so that their festival is dedicated to binakol weaving. The binakol of the latter two towns are observed to be thicker and denser than others.
An antique upland three-panel handspun cotton binakol blanket with hand-embroidered joineries
Simple and Complicated at the Same Time
In terms of the weaving technique used, creating binakol is not the most complicated. In fact, it falls under the category of plain weave, where only two heddles and two pedals are used. This makes it simpler than multi-heddle weaves such as kundiman and binnetwagan, or supplementary weaves such as pinilian and sinukitan. Despite being a plain weave, what separates binakol from others that belong to the same category (i.e., stripes, plaids, etc.), however, is that it employs a meticulous process of counting threads, carefully arranging the warp threads in the right order, and making sure the weft threads are positioned to intersect with the warp threads at exactly where they are intended to meet. A slight miscalculation by the weaver can spell a big difference as it will inevitably avert the textile from achieving the well-balanced optical illusion the binakol is known for. Those with trained eyes can easily spot an error in the weave. As a rule of thumb, the value of any binakol lies on the symmetry and consistency of its mathematically-precise patterns throughout the textile.
There have been two schools of thought regarding the history of binakol. The most accepted and well-known is the narrative that it is as old as the tradition of inabel weaving itself. This theory posits, therefore, that the binakol is an example of a pre-colonial artform. The other school of thought suggests that the optical illusions that the binakol possesses are not unique to the Philippines, and that their origin may be traced back to the American missionaries who came to the country in the early 1900s and introduced it. Despite the opposing views on its origin, there is no denying that the Ilocanos and the Tingguians have been weaving them in their own images and have closely attached the textile to their lives and identities. The cultural attachments are more than enough to call the binakol an Ilocano and Tingguian art and is, therefore, part of the bigger Filipino story.
Another old binakol blanket with a unique pattern, superimposed with red lines in plaid configuration
In some cultures, the binakol is believed to ward off evil spirits as it makes them dizzy due to the illusions the binakol –especially the kusikos— generates. Traditionally, they were draped outside the house beside the door to prevent the evil spirits from getting in. In the uplands, they have been used during important social ceremonies. While largely made into three-panel blankets, they were also used as body covers such as stoles and capes. There are also some photos showing that binakol blankets were used during funeral practices. In the lowlands, the Ilocanos also reserve the use of binakol as special blankets/bed covers, and as table covers for solemn days of commemoration such as All Soul’s Day or anniversaries of departed ones. Some also prefer to use them as mats on the floor where elderly women would sit on for their prayers during those events.
A binakol blanket draped beside offerings to the dead during Paoay’s Tumba (Nov. 1st Tradition)
The “Other” Binakol: A Rich Tradition
Although the most commonly-known pattern to come out of binakol is the kusikos, and oftentimes they are mistakenly used interchangeably, it must be clarified that the two terms are different. Binakol refers to the classification and technique of inabel weaving, while kusikos is one of the patterns generated from that weaving technique. Technically, binakol, therefore, is not a pattern, but is a kind of inabel.
Other patterns generated using the binakol technique includes the following: sinan pal-id (fan-like), sinan ikamen (mat-like), sinan crus (cross-like), sinan tugot ti pusa (cat’s paw-like), sinan kajon (box-like), and sinan-kinelleng-kelleng (parcels of farmlands-like). There are endless permutations in creating these traditional patterns where weavers can render them in varying sizes or in different colors. Some include the vertical and/or horizontal lines that break the design fields, while others can even use mixed media like those that use bonel threads alongside pure cotton or polyster-cotton blend threads. The most sought after among collectors would be those made of handspun cotton and colored using vegetable dyes.
Old binakol blankets. Clockwise: sinan sabong (flower-like), sinan tugot ti pusa (cat’s paw-like),
and sinan pal-id (fan-like) patterns.
The binakol embodies the intersection of art, culture, and spirituality among the Ilocanos and the Tingguians. Its intricate designs not only showcase the technical skill of the weavers but also reflect their rich worldviews and deep understanding of things around them. As efforts continue to preserve and promote this tradition, binakol remains a vibrant symbol of the Filipino people at large.
