Although Masferrè does not wish to leave his mountains, the photographs he has taken have gone around the globe. After a few exhibits in Baguio and Manila, he went international—first to Japan and Copenhagen, then in 1989 to the world’s most important photographic exhibition, Les Rencontres Internationales de la Photographie in Arles, France. There, his work won an important award, and the normally skeptical press loved what they saw.

!n 1990 the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. acquired 140 of Masferrè’s wonderful photographs, through a grant from Mobil. And the Institution, with Mobil’s continuing support, will exhibit the photographs at the National Museum of Natural History from May 1 through mid-September of this year.

In 1924, Father Leonard Wollcott, an Episcopalian missionary, stayed in Sagada for three months—he had a camera and photography was his hobby. He also found an interested pupil in Masferrè. Wollcott taught him a bit. Masferrè then began searching for magazines, learning more. His first camera, and much of his equipment, came through mail-order. He built his first enlarger (sun-powered as there was no electricity in the mountains) from directions in a magazine.

Man with pipe, ButBut, Tinglayan, Kalinga, 1954.

Masferrè went into the terraces and villages and began taking photographs—reactions, of course, were mixed. Some were afraid—a few women thought the box allowed him to see through their clothes. Others didn’t understand why on earth he would want to waste his time doing such strange things. Some saw the value of photographs and asked for portraits. And the occasional missionary or traveller would see his works and marvel, giving him a rare bit of encouragement that augmented his will to go on.

image source

Transplanting rice in Sagada, 1934: Masferrè’s earliest photo, this gained favorable comment from foreign messionaries, and ptovided motivation for the photographer to continue his avocation. The woman, who is the the photographer’s aunt, wears an Ilocano hat and a snail basket on her hi–she will collect snails she finds while transplanting rice, and the snails will become part of the next meal.

He started a studio in Bontoc, capital of his native Mountain Province, and eked a living from studio portraits and occasional sales to passing travellers. On weekends and during slack times he still ventured out into the terraces and villages, taking more photos. But when his forth child arrived, and the economics of it finally overwhelmed him him, he returned to farming. The fruit tress his father was planted provided income he needed to support his family, and decreased the amount of time he could spend with his camera.

Why had Masferrè take so much time to photograph his people? One can only surmise. Masferrè would say, “It seemed a good thing to do.” Perhaps he was aware of the need to preserve the memory of his people’s changing ways. Perhaps it was the photograph that allowed Eduardo Masferre to rejoin part of his root—learn about his people, their ways and their lives. But this is all pure speculation.

Whatever the cause, thank heavens for it, as Masferrè has captured his people for all the world to see, and has done it in away that allows a glimpse of a moving, working, living, loving, society.

Eduardo Masferrè (1909-1995)
“Father of Philippine Photography”