Prison Wicker: Woven Legacies of U.S. Empire in the Philippines

by Ashley E. Williams   

This summer, I was supported by a Decorative Arts Trust Research Grant as I completed a month-long trip to the Philippines to conduct research for my dissertation, “Unfree Artists on the Borders of U.S. Empire, 1850–1930.” This dissertation unearths new connections between systems of artistic labor in enslavement, wartime imprisonment, and incarceration. I am particularly interested in the ways that unfree makers navigated these systems, which were foundational in the expansion of U.S. territory. During my time in the Philippines, I conducted fieldwork for a chapter about colonial prison craft, focusing on the rattan and bamboo furniture workshop at Bilibid Prison in Manila, which was run by the U.S. government from roughly 1904 to 1940 (figure 1). Bilibid furniture became world-famous, and the iconic Peacock Chair (then known as the Bilibid Chair) was one of the prison’s most popular exports (figure 2).

Before my trip, I visited wicker¹ collections at The Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Yale University Art Gallery. At New York University, I studied Filipino, an official language of the Philippines based on standardized Tagalog. (English is also an official language due to the U.S. occupation.) As an American scholar with no heritage ties to the Philippines, language learning opened up key cultural concepts. In a project that deals with the violence of the U.S. colonial apparatus and the grim indignities of incarceration, language also became a methodological way to seek Filipino perspectives. I then did extensive research at various archives in Washington, D.C. while supported by a pre-doctoral fellowship at the Smithsonian American Art Museum. It was at these institutions that I found photographic and textual documentation about furniture production, daily life for the incarcerated weavers, and sales records (figure 3).

However, my project began to truly coalesce during my trip to the Philippines. From Manila, I traveled to the island of Palawan to visit the Iwahig Prison and Penal Farm, which was built by the Americans as a penal colony in 1904 (figures 4 and 5). Iwahig was lauded in the U.S. press as a “prison of the future” because it had no walls or armed guards. Many of the skilled craftsmen at Bilibid were eventually sent to this remote site. Today, Iwahig is a minimum security prison. Though it may be surprising to some, it also includes a visitor center for tourists and a gift shop.

Returning to Manila, I conducted research at several institutions, including the Rizal Library at Ateneo University, the Asian Studies Library at the University of the Philippines Diliman, the Ayala Museum, and the National Museum of Fine Arts. I became even more grateful for my (albeit beginner) knowledge of Filipino, as it was helpful for forming relationships, navigating archives, and interpreting sources I encountered. One avenue of my project looks at the ways that Indigenous basketry may have influenced the patterns used at Bilibid (figure 6). Colleagues in the Ethnology Division staff at the National Museum of Anthropology were kind enough to set up a research day to share their extensive knowledge of basketry (figure 7). We examined patterns on a range of objects—from gorgeous rice winnowing trays, to carrying baskets, to fish traps—which prompted even more fascinating questions.

All of these visits had been beneficial, but I still hoped to see the former site of Bilibid Prison, which is now the Manila City Jail (figure 8). After many letters and emails (and the help of a contact at the Philippine Embassy), I was finally able to arrange a visit. The Manila City Jail is one of the most crowded jails in the world, and PDLs (Persons Deprived of Liberty, the common term used in the Philippines) contend with extremely difficult conditions. The PDLs make a small number of paintings and crafts (including beaded coin purses, rolled paper sculptures, and tote bags) and, according to prison officials, they keep the profits. In the craft workshop, I spoke with several of the PDLs (figure 9). It was a powerful visit that shed light on the dire realities of both the Bilibid experience of the past, and the City Jail experience of the present—even if only the tiniest sliver.

My last day in Manila was Araw ng Kalayaan (figure 10), a holiday that celebrates the Philippine Revolution against Spain in 1896—an independence that the U.S. did not fully grant until 1946. Throughout my trip, I felt like I was processing both the Philippines of the American colonial past and the Philippines of the present. In both, I saw resilience.

Through the Decorative Arts Trust Research Grant, I was able to build first-hand knowledge, experience, and relationships that will prove invaluable as I move forward with my dissertation project.

Ashley E. Williams is a PhD Candidate at Columbia University.

1. Wicker refers to a range of weaving techniques done with grass fiber materials, including: reed, rush, seagrass, willow, cane, rattan, bamboo, and more.