Deflating Historical Ego and Discovery in Binan

by Ambeth Ocampo

Jose Rizal is made the model for all students because he was supposed to have graduated with a grade of
sobresaliente (excellent) in all his subjects. Being a natural skeptic, I decided to visit the Ateneo Archives
in search of Rizal's transcript. It was not available, but there was a printed booklet on the distribution of
prizes for the school year 1876-77. Rizal had won many prizes, but to my great surprise, I discovered
there were only 12 students in Rizal's class - nine of which, including Rizal, graduated sobresaliente! So
what's the big deal about this if there were eight others with the same grade? I had imagined getting
sobresaliente as equivalent to being a valedictorian.

Rizal did not get good grades at Ateneo, but at the University of Santo Tomas, he wasn't as great as he's
been made out to be. And I guess you must have heard about the erroneous use of the title "Dr" before
his name. For some reason—perhaps lack of money, time, or interest—Rizal was unable to take the
examination that would have qualified him for a doctorate. Rizal had a Licentiate in Medicine, and being
a medical doctor, he was allowed to practice in the profession. Technically speaking, however, he could
not carry the academic title "Dr." or attach the letters "M.D." after his name.

From the great Rizal, let's turn now to a dropout who succeeded without a formal degree—Juan Luna y
Novicio. The Academia de Dibujo in Manila was run by a mean Spaniard, Agustin Saez, who ran against
his own students in a contest for the best cover design for the book "Flora de Filipinos." Of course, Saez
won, with Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo obtaining second place. Hidalgo could have won the top prize had
his teacher not joined.

Luna did not even get to join the contest since he was already out of school by then. If a friend like Rizal
described Luna's early paintings as "contrary to art," Saez, as the director of the Academy, must have
thought worse. Perhaps Saez wanted the stubborn Luna to conform, to paint like everyone else, which is
natural in any school that tends to hamper creativity. Things came to a head, and Luna was either
dropped out or expelled, depending on which biography you are reading. After studying under the
Filipino painter Lorenzo Guerrero, Luna left Manila for Madrid. At the Real Academia de Bellas Artes de
San Fernando, he was strongly influenced by his mentor, Alejo Vera.

The teacher impressed upon him that when Vera, off to Madrid to fulfill some commissions in Rome,
Luna left school and bid goodbye to academic drama, apprenticing himself to Vera. In the Madrid
Exhibition of 1884, Luna's colossal "Spoliarium" was awarded a gold medal. Thus, a Filipino proved
himself in Spain as an "international artist," yet this is one other thing we have yet to unlearn from
school.

Luna's triumph was far from "international" because Madrid was not the artistic center of the world at
the time; that distinction belonged to Paris. But Luna did win the gold medal for "Spoliarium," and Felix
Resurreccion Hidalgo won another medal for "Las Virgenes Cristianas Expuestas al Populacho," right? As
in most prizes, we think Luna's gold medal was the first prize, and Hidalgo's silver was the second. Well,
Luna won only one gold medal out of the three gold medals given out, and Hidalgo won another silver
medal out of the fifteen awarded in that Exposition. Worse still, Luna missed out on the Medal of Honor,
which was not awarded in the 1884 Exposition.

Our teachers had oversimplified this and created a myth. Pero, nasan ba ang second prize diyan?
Something is lost in translation.

Luna did not even win the grand prize in that Exposition, but as compensation, he was commissioned to
paint the mural "Batute of Lepanto," which now hangs in the Spanish Senate in Madrid.

As you can see, there are quite a number of things taught in school that one has to unlearn or, at the
very least, correct.