On January 12, 2020, an escalated volcanic activity emanating from the Taal Volcano resulted into a phreatic explosion that caused far-reaching ashfall affecting the central and northern regions of Luzon, and localized seismic tremors in the Province of Batangas. In its wake, hundreds of thousands of families were force-evacuated from their established settlements into neighboring cities and municipalities that were deemed outside of the 14 to 17-kilometer radius permanent danger zone. This prolonged calamitous episode caused massive displacement of the local population and bloated the capacities of planned and unplanned camps to the extent of congestion and disarray. Needless to say, immediate aid and relief efforts quickly poured in, with different private groups and civil society organizations reaching out to different sites where help is most needed, adding up to the disaster response efforts of the provincial, regional, and national governments.
On January 22, 2020, our team from Habitat for Humanity Philippines was deployed to conduct a Post-Disaster Assessment in large evacuation centers and to gather data to be used for a disaster response proposal identifying the most appropriate humanitarian intervention. Further afield, we visited three prominent school sites that were used as evacuation centers in the Province of Batangas. These were the Balayan East and West Central School in the Municipality of Balayan, and the Calaca Elementary School in the Municipality of Calaca. We also visited another busy school campus turned into a planned camp site in the Province of Cavite, which is the Alfonso Central School. All three schools housed dislocated residents who hail from different localities in the inner ring of the Taal Volcano’s effective danger zone.
In these three major school sites, all the campus buildings were used as temporary evacuation centers as classes were halted until further notice. During our interview and interaction with the affected families, one can’t help but notice the imposing school buildings of familiar architecture, standing tall and proud, despite years of old age, and serving as temporary strongholds for families dislodged by Taal’s unrest.
The Gabaldon-Type School
These familiar structures are collectively known as Gabaldon School Buildings. They were designed by the prolific American architect and urban planner William Edward Parsons, who elevated the vernacular Filipino architecture through the use of modern construction methodologies such as reinforced concrete and galvanized iron roofing. This play of materials developed into sturdy, light and airy civic buildings built across the Philippine archipelago. His notable architectural oeuvres include the Army and Navy Club, the Philippine General Hospital Main Building, and the Paco Railway Station, all built in the City of Manila and were part of the ambitious master plan drawn by Daniel Hudson Burnham. Generally, the Gabaldon School Buildings were publicly-commissioned structures sponsored under the Act Number 1801, which was authored by Isauro Gabaldon, a member of the Philippine Assembly. The Gabaldon school buildings were built all over the Philippines from the early 1900s to late 1940s.
The Gabaldon School Buildings took precise cues from the form and function of the bahay kubo and bahay-na-bato typologies. Parsons critically observed how our native dwellings have suitable and climate-appropriate architecture that translates to optimized habitability to its long-term users. The resultant building form of the Gabaldon schoolhouses gracefully emphasized the built features of the modest vernacular houses and imprinted these further into the evolving fabric of Filipino architecture.
These school buildings are said to have been put up using a standard size of 7 by 9 meters (23 ft × 30 ft), ushering in a concept of modular construction that entailed rapid deployment and construction during the age where public education (and general access to it) were being bolstered during the American rule. The single-story Gabaldon buildings are elevated 1.2 meters (3.9 ft) from the ground, and are principally made of premium Philippine hardwood, masonry, and reinforced concrete. Other pronounced features of the Gabaldons are supersized awning capiz-shell windows and transoms, high ceilings, wide roof overhangs, and latticework called callado. All these building features facilitate optimized ventilation and natural illumination.
The Modern Day Usage and Significance of the Gabaldon School Buildings
Upon passage of the Republic Act 10077 or the National Heritage Act of 2009, all the built Gabaldon school buildings were declared as “Important Cultural Properties” having exceptional cultural, artistic and historical significance to the Philippines. Being instrumental in providing conducive environment to the young Filipino learners across time and regions, the multidimensional significance of the Gabaldon school buildings are now fully recognized thanks to the very recent promulgation of the Republic Act 11194 or the Gabaldon School Buildings Conservation Act of 2019. Under this law, all Gabaldon School Buildings, around 1440 of them, have to be protected and conserved, and local governments have to adopt measures to safeguard these architectural gems.
Long life, loose fit, low energy
Hands down a fine specimen of passive, low-impact design, a lot of essential takeaways can be gained from these wonderful Gabaldon school buildings. One, the Gabaldon structures are context-rooted and climate-sensitive. It voluntarily did away with the imported building articulations of the West, and celebrated the local building character and craftsmanship through innovation and paying homage to the wisdom of the builders of the past. Second, the Gabaldon structures are intrinsically designed to be flexible, that even the Japanese occupied these buildings and turned them into garrisons during World War II. At one point in time they were also re-purposed as field hospitals, and as present-day evacuation sites. The Gabaldon schoolhouses have open layout, symmetrical design, generous fenestrations, spacious corridors and shaded porches, essentially reinforcing a tropic-appropriate architecture. Generally, such attributes can be said to be ‘good architecture,’ and exemplify the metrics of “long life, loose fit and low energy” concept by Sir Alexander John Gordon of the Royal Institute of British Architects.
On the whole, the Gabaldon school buildings reflect a “long life, loose fit, low energy” character through and through. Can they possibly serve as a design springboard for other civic structures and rekindle the interest in designing our public buildings as breathing, pulsating organisms? Perhaps we can take a look at how our evacuation sites, hospitals, multi-purpose centers, and communal buildings are designed, and hark back to how our vernacular dwellings are built, and consider essential human elements in relation to the physics of our climate? Good architecture is still around and in our midst, manifested by olden yet unprepossessing structures such as the Gabaldons.
Design From The Ground Up 