C. Malolos’ Last Chalet: The 1925 De Leon House

Right after I visited the Abad House in Malolos previously, I walked down Tampoy Street to the immediately neighboring ancestral house

and tried to sneak a peek.

The lush vegetation made it slightly difficult to take in a view of the entire structure.

But I could make out the main door.

The left side of the façade

and the right-side elevation

could also be clearly viewed from certain angles.

My assessment was that this was a beautiful, coherent, and well-maintained “chalet”-style home of the American colonial period, possibly the only one left in all of Malolos. (My family’s circa 1930 ancestral home, also in Malolos, was in a similar style but in a much simpler execution. Sadly, it stood for less than fifty years.) I resolved to explore this survivor further.

I tried to see if I could get in, but nobody seemed to be home. I therefore just made a mental note to add this to my list of ancestral houses that I needed to visit some day.

An opportunity finally came during the last Christmas holiday break. I happened to be at the Abad House again, to accompany some out-of-towners who were considering acquiring it. Once more, I went down the narrow street

and ambled over to the next-door neighbor, in the hope that I could finally strike it off my to-do list. I once again saw its long fence, made of interlocking panels of early 20^th-century steel matting, and noted that it continued to be in good order.

And peering above this fence once more, I could see part of the house’s façade through the bushes.

Indications were positive, as the gate was open and seemed welcoming enough,

and the vacant lot directly across the street, which I guessed (correctly, as I later found out) was this house’s non-contiguous private carpark (as no garage was to be found on the main property), had a warm-engined conveyance within.

I made my way in, and got a closer view of the structure’s right-side front corner

Moving in even closer, the house’s impressive full-width veranda (open gallery) could be better appreciated.

The short flight of steps to the main door was in the exact center of this gallery, and the lady of the house happened to be descending as I approached it. She beckoned me in, even saying that there was nothing to worry about as visits to her house were free of charge! Now there’s one exemplary ancestral house owner.

On this site had previously stood the house of her grandfather Ramon Gonzalez de Leon, the first mayor (“Presidente Municipal”) of the new municipality of Malolos (formed from the Spanish-era towns Barasoain, Santa Isabel, and Malolos) at the beginning of the American colonial period, in 1903-1905. According to her, the current structure was built in or around 1925.

The stairs were approached with a preliminary set of steps from either the left or the right, which then met in a common landing and merged into one wide flight going further upwards. Here it is viewed from above on the veranda.

So I went past the low swinging iron-grill-with-green-mesh gate (seen behind the deservedly proud house owner in the previous photo) that separated the flight of steps from the veranda, and found myself right on the gallery.

The floor of this veranda consisted of wooden planks, now discolored despite the roof overhead and because of its exposure to fading-friendly direct sunlight

and the inevitable wind-propelled rain. (In fact, it is possible that these wooden planks are no longer the original ones and had to be installed to replace the previously rotted ones.)

On the right side, the veranda terminates at the very edge of the front elevation.

On the other side, however, it makes a right turn and continues on to the house’s left-side elevation.

Less intense direct sunlight and probably more diligent renovations have evidently preserved the color and finish of the floor planks here.

Back in the front gallery, I enter one of three wide doorways that allow access into the living room via pairs of glass-paned wooden sliding doors.

The sala is wide and predictably airy, with lots of space available to move in

even if it was furnished adequately with this beautiful solihiya-seat-and-back ambassador living room set

All four armchairs of this set were present and accounted for.

The expansive walls of the sala were predictable places to display the family’s admirable accomplishments – what Filipino home of that period (or this) did not have a feast of diplomas and certificates, always ready for inspection by any visitor?

Here is a close-up shot of only one of probably a few dozen gracing the walls of the various rooms of this house.

(Then as now, an excellent choice of university, I must say. Okay, so I'm a biased fellow alumnus.)

Elsewhere in this expansive sala were some other pieces from the family’s diligent members of the past (and the present), including a small desk,

a vintage Admiral-brand television in its original cabinet (no doubt to enable us to watch I Love Lucy reruns on demand),

an all-wood cabinet in one corner

(atop which was the nameplate of a former family member who held a key post in the local government),

a small cabinet with a collection of figurines and trinkets within, and a beautiful gold paint-accented wood-framed mirror on the floor in front of it,

The house owner explained that she was in the midst of a thorough renovation of this, her now wholly-owned (after buying out the other heirs) ancestral house, hence the wall mirror and other pieces not being in their usual assigned places.

The sala opened into three bedrooms, perhaps small by our present-day standards but quite adequate for the original residents.  They were accessed by individual single-panel swinging doors, all in a row.

Starting from the right in the photo above, Door A

opens into a bedroom

that holds a “radio”-style Art Deco aparador (clothes cabinet)

and a oval-mirrored tocador (dresser).

There was no bed to be seen within, as perhaps the ongoing renovation had required that it be moved out temporarily.

Like in many houses of the period (and even before and after), the upper portions of the walls consisted of carved and pierced wooden panels that facilitated good air circulation, although this probably compromised our modern notions of privacy.

At the far edge of the room was a small communicating door to allow access to the neighboring bedroom.  So much for privacy.

This next bedroom could of course be accessed via Door B from the sala.

Or, we can just sneak in from the neighboring bedroom, which is what we just did. This bedroom does contain a bed, nicely refinished to match the ongoing renovation of the house.

There is also a small dresser, in a different, later, style from the one in the previous bedroom

and a double-mirror aparador.

The next bedroom is accessed via the usual communicating door from the neighboring bedroom, or via Door C from the sala,

which looks like this from the inside.

This bedroom seemed to be in the thick of the renovation, so it was empty, save for ladders and paint supplies.  However, it was the best-positioned of the three bedrooms, as right behind it were “the facilities.”

The spaces were compact, but functional.

And even further to the rear was the azotea bordering the Malolos river.  It was small and the view was nothing spectacular, so the only shot I could muster of it was of a few people standing on it.

The windows in the background opened out of the first two bedrooms.  Here is a closer shot of the windows of the first bedroom, showing the sliding capiz window panels, the diamond-shaped capiz transom panel above, the wooden-grilled ventanilla below, and the simple iron grilles over the sliding panels.

Back inside the house, a painter applies the “antique-green” shade of paint to a corner behind a vintage refrigerator, in what is the original square dining room.

The rest of the walls glowed in this shade of green.

There is a banggera (a tableware-washing and -drying window counter) in this dining room.

And that tapayan (earthenware vessel) would have held potable water in the days before water pipes or home-delivered purified water.

Beyond this dining room was another larger, also squarish, room, likewise undergoing renovation.

Apparently, it was the original (wood-floored!) kitchen.

Moving back into the dining room and from there into the front part of the house, we enter this space that looks like yet another, larger, more formal, dining room.

This room was so long that its ceiling could be bisected by this simple yet elegant pierced-and-carved wooden arch.

There is not only a long dining table in the center, but also what is unmistakably a lansena (sideboard cabinet), a standard fixture in pre-war dining rooms.

This particular lansena is unusual, though, in that its mirror is large and irregularly-shaped.

Our host clarifies that while it may indeed look like a dining room, in fact this room was the family library.  The lansena might then have more properly belonged to the adjacent dining room, except that perhaps that room’s smaller size might have necessitated its placement in this larger library.

The long table was therefore a library table, at which the children of the family would do their homework.  Indeed, against another wall was a barrister-type library-appropriate book cabinet, which partly concealed a platera, perhaps yet another refugee from the real dining room.

In one corner of this library hung portraits of two venerable lady members of the family.

This library bordered on the veranda that ran the length of the house’s left (western) elevation, as we already saw earlier.   Here it is again, this time viewed from the kitchen at the rear, looking towards the front part of the house.

Just as one accessed the front veranda from the sala, this side veranda was accessed from the library via glass-paned sliding doors also.

On the near wall of this library was positioned yet another small writing desk.

And to the left of this desk was a doorway that led to the house’s fourth bedroom.  As this was adjacent to both the sala and the veranda in front, it would probably be designated the master bedroom, if folks of the 1920’s really cared for such labels.  Like the other three bedrooms we previously entered, it was also compact, and was probably intended to accommodate only the essentials – including this bed

and a few occasional pieces that could be squeezed in, such as a limited variety of chairs and side tables.

(I’m still wondering where the aparadors are though.)

We leave this master bedroom and return to the library, and from there pass through these very nicely refinished solid narra double swinging doors

to return to the sprawling sala

where we can lounge around again briefly

before thanking our kind and generous host and reluctantly saying bye-bye to this, possibly the only one remaining, and certainly the best-cared for, chalet-style ancestral house in Malolos and its environs.

Originally published on 15 January 2010.  All text and photos copyright ©2010 by Leo D Cloma. The moral right of Leo D Cloma to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.

Original comments:

rally65 wrote on Feb 15, '10 victorancheta said oh, my mom knows this house. Did she have a personal connection, or know any of the residents?

jamaica1ph wrote on Feb 15, '10 a very nice and thorough documented tour Leo.... thanks for sharing and keep it up!!!

eyekhon wrote on Mar 14, '10, edited on Mar 14, '10 Maybe well known actor Joey de Leon has a close association with this house, the first Mayor of Malolos was his grandfather.He would always mention Tampoy as his Tambayan when he was young.

rally65 wrote on Mar 14, '10 eyekhon said Maybe well known actor Joey de Leon has a close association with this house, the first Mayor of Malolos was his grandfather.He would always mention Tampoy as his Tambayan when he was young. You are correct -- Joey de Leon is a member of this family, and he is indeed a Tampoy, Malolos native.

anen21999 wrote on Mar 17, '10 I love the high ceiling, the wide spaces, the wood, and the spirit of this house. Masaya siya. Fun space.

katelpoh wrote on Nov 4, '10 Hello, Mr. Leo D. Cloma. Thank you very much for this very nice and detailed feature on the house of my great-grandfather, Ramon de Leon. The nice lady you encountered during your visit is my mother. I will show to her your beautiful work tonight.

rally65 wrote on Nov 4, '10 Thank you very much for your visit and appreciation. Please do thank your mother again for letting us poke around your beautiful ancestral home last December. And I hope to meet her (and you) again in Malolos some time soon.

frostmourne92 wrote on Aug 16, '11 sir pwde malaman if where yung exact address ng bahay?tsaka kung local government ang may hawak?

rally65 wrote on Aug 16, '11 frostmourne92 said sir pwde malaman if where yung exact address ng bahay?tsaka kung local government ang may hawak? As I said in the article, this is on Tampoy Street in Malolos. It is not under the responsibility of the local government as it is privately-owned.

accelsus wrote on Nov 18, '11 My grandmother Josephina de Leon Robles was one of the family owners many decades ago. We visited back in 1976.

rally65 wrote on Nov 18, '11 accelsus said My grandmother Josephina de Leon Robles was one of the family owners many decades ago. We visited back in 1976. That's thirty-five years ago! You should visit again soon.

accelsus wrote on Nov 18, '11 It looks beautiful! Do you live in the area?

rally65 wrote on Nov 19, '11 accelsus said It looks beautiful! Do you live in the area? Yes, I live in another part of Malolos.