A centuries old beat: The music of Banda Matanda

At dusk on a Saturday at the town plaza of General Trias in Cavite, three days before Christmas, the wind blew with a strength uncharacteristic of a cool December evening. 

 

A few couples made their rounds on the iron benches surrounding the park square. Apart from a few children playing Chinese garter by the steps, there was not much noise in this sleepy town. Except for a group of men setting up stage at the open town square.

 

That night, local officials told us, anyone who finds himself at the plaza would be treated to a special Christmas concert. Traditional Christmas carols would be given the marching band treatment. No less than by a band whose renown dates back to more than a century—Banda Matanda.

 

By sunset, the members of the 50-piece band trickled in the square with trombones, clarinets, flutes, trumpets, and drums. Even at soundcheck, words failed to fully describe the aural preview. It was classic marching band style, but with the flavor and discipline of a seasoned orchestra.   

Pep talk

 

Most of the current members of Banda Matanda are fourth- and fifth-generation descendants of the original Banda San Francisco de Malabon Grande, named after the General Trias town that was then called San Francisco de Malabon Grande.

 

A cursory search online reveals a lack of documented history of the band. What makes up for it are various videos documenting the band’s music. As the 80-year-old Diosdado Palompo, a baritone, horn and trombone player, and fourth-generation descendant of founding bass player Hilario Clanor, explained, much of the history of the band is oral.

 

Palompo told me the original Banda was formed in 1888 by Don Catalino Arnaldo, who was a friend of writer and revolutionary General Mariano Trias and composer Julian Felipe, who, 10 years later, would lay down the music to the country’s national anthem. Initially a 24-piece band, the Banda was composed of farmers who could not read notes, much less play an instrument. 

 

But 1888 was hardly a time for making merry music. “Nung mga panahong iyon, dumadami na rin ang mga rebolusyonaryo dahil sa pagmamaltrato ng mga Kastila sa mga magsasaka.”   

There was a need to keep plans a secret among those who cannot be privy to such, at the same time making sure the revolution did not lose momentum among Filipinos. 

 

“Nung panahon na iyon, tumutugtog ang banda sa isang restaurant sa Barrio Santa Clara, lagpas ng tulay sa labas lang ng Malabon Grande. Doon nagtitipon-tipon ang mga rebolusyonaryo para pag-usapan kung paano [lalabanan] 'yung mga Kastila,” Palompo said. 

 

That restaurant was also where the band usually performed when not making their usual fiesta rounds. It was only a matter of time before the band members began playing revolutionary pieces “[bilang] pampalakas ng loob ng mga rebolusyonaryo,” as well as pieces that discussed part of the Katipunan’s plans without raising suspicion on anyone. 

 

The music then evolved from emotional salve to propaganda. The strategy worked. “Ni minsan hindi nahalata ng mga Kastila na 'yung mga tinutugtog nila, mga revolutionary pieces,” Palompo said.

 

1898

 

With the end of Spanish rule and the establishment of the revolutionary government in 1898, Trias tapped the Banda to perform for the very first time a march that would soon be known as the Philippine national anthem, music Felipe composed. 

 

The commissioned march, then titled “Marcha Filipina Magdalo” but later changed to “March Nacional Filipina,” was performed by the Banda on July 12, 1898, the day Aguinaldo’s government declared independence from the Spanish colonial rule. 

 

The Band’s performance of the march would forever alter its course and its place in history, from a simple marching band formed by a haciendero to a revolutionary band forever etched in its rightful place in history. It would also be one of the keys that would keep its music playing many decades on. 

 

Banda Matanda

 

After the band’s historic performance of the march that would become the national anthem years after 1898, it became a fixture in town fiestas and church functions within and outside Cavite, said Palompo. Soon, other towns started to invite the band to play in their own town fiestas. Competitions and concerts became standard fare for the band.

 

But as with most bands, friction began within its members. “May mga miyembro noon na gusto ring maging leader ng banda,” Palompo said. 

 

Infighting within the group came to a head in 1927. “May mga tauhan ng banda na gustong maging leader din kaya nagkaroon ng botohan. Binoto lolo ko noon, si Hilario Clanor, laban sa isa pang miyembro ng banda na si Engracio Clamor.” 

 

Palompo could no longer remember the margin of voting between the two band members, but said Clamor lost the vote. Clamor then decided to put up another band, and called it Banda Kabataan, composed of members who broke away from the Banda. “Ibig sabihin kasi noon, bagong silang, kaya pinangalang Banda Kabataan. 'Yung original na banda, kailangan din ng bagong pangalan para maiba doon sa humiwalay na grupo, kaya naging Banda Matanda siya.”

 

The beat goes on

 

Over the next few decades, Banda Matanda would collect more than a few dozen awards  from several competitions here and abroad. Some of its members, including Palompo and French horn player Rodrigo Mugol, were among the first Filipinos to join the US Navy band in the 1950s. Many pursued formal music traning, returning to the band after their studies. 

 

At soundcheck, trombone/baritone player Florante de los Santos, a fourth-generation descendant of founding member Candido de los Santos, left no detail to chance in tuning his instrument for the night, the same way he’s learned to do it since he was 12 years old. “Kasabay po ng pag-aaral ng mga baguhan sa aming pamilya, nakikisali lang ako tumugtog, tapos nagpatuloy na akong nag-aral.”

 

Back in the 50s, Florante told me, Banda Matanda was at its prime. His father, a member of the Philippine Constabulary band then, helped fuel his ambition to become a brass band player. “Wala na akong ibang gustong gawin noon kundi magbanda. Mahirap lang kami noon. 'Yun talaga linya ko.” 

 

Over the next four decades, Florante played with other bands, but foremost in his heart was playing trombone and baritone for Banda Matanda. “Masaya ang pakiramdam ko pagtumutugtog ako sa Banda. Malulungkot ako pag nawala na ang Banda,” he said. 

 

In recent years the band has had an influx of new members, many of them descendants. Conductor and saxophonist Christian Palompo, 23, started out in the band when he was only 10 years old. 

 

Diosdado’s grandchild and descendant of founder Francisco de los Santos, Palompo originally wanted to become a doctor. “Pinasok ako ng ate ko sa banda, si ate [Luisita] ko. Pinsan ko, tinuruan niya akong magbasa ng nota, tumugtog ng instrumento. [Tuloy-tuloy na] mula noon.”

 

His playing in the band took a sidestep when he pursued a nursing degree. But when he graduated in 2010, his nursing career was soon put on hold. “Nagtrabaho ako for six months sa isang hospital, tapos nag-end ang kontrata ko, 'di na-renew. So tumugtog muna ako sa mga banda sa Maynila tapos bumalik ako dito sa General Trias.” 

 

Playing with the band has also given flutist, conductor, and fourth-generation descendant Arlene Garcia a chance to further her own studies. Like most members of the band, Arlene started young. She was then part of the church choir when she developed an interest in joining the Banda. 

 

Through music, she said, she was able to get a full scholarship at the UP College of Music while playing with the UP ROTC Band. But she told me playing with the Banda is a very enriching experience on its own. “'Yung mga natutunan namin sa pagtugtog sa banda, hindi lahat natutunan namin sa Conservatory,” she said.

 

Marching to its own beat

 

Much of the Banda’s survival over the decades, Diosdado Palompo said, is due to its independent and self-sustaining character. Since the time it was formed, it had never been affiliated with any one political entity or institution. 

 

It is more a case of convenient coincidence than a matter of policy. “Meron nang ilang mga pagkakataon na gusto kaming suportahan ng ilang mayor, pero laging may kapalit. Magtatanong minsan ng, ‘Anong damage ko diyan?'”

 

Much of its support now come from its own members, Church contributions, and from townpeople they perform for. “Pag tumutugtog kami, nagbabahay-bahay, may mga nagbibigay sa amin ng pera para sa banda.... Malaki ang tulong ng simbahan at bayan kasi kailangan ang banda para makapagbigay ng kasiyahan.”

 

It is not just a case of protecting a tradition, but protecting history as well. “Kailangang magpatuloy ang Banda kasi pag nawala 'yung suporta, mawawala ang Banda. Ang history ng Banda, mawawala. Hindi lang 'yung Banda ang ipinagpapatuloy namin, kundi pati na rin ang music at history.”

 

After soundcheck, soon after the end of the 7 p.m. Mass at the nearby church, the Banda began to play its first piece, the exact version of the “Marcha Nacional Filipina” that sealed the Banda’s place in history. It was part of the opening ceremony, but a little more than a few people could not resist clapping. 

 

Then, from the town hall of General Trias, the Banda took the audience to Japan with its version of Naohiro Iwai’s “Disney Fantasy,” Spain with its own version of “Feliz Navidad,” and to France with the French aria “Je Veux Vivre” sung by Dr. Tonton Pascual, herself a descendant of the founders of the Banda. 

 

Just when the classic Christmas songs “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You,” and “Sleigh Ride” finished their turns, majorettes began to fill the stage. It was time for their version of Korean K-Pop star Psy’s “Gangnam Style.” The audience went wild. 

 

Garcia told me it’s their way of bringing the Banda to a mainstream audience. They may have kept the Banda going all their own, but they need the next generation to continue not just the music, but the history that is its backbone and soul. —KG, GMA News