When Baguio's Designer Crafted a Bridge Between Two Nations

In December 2025, an announcement quietly reshaped how the Philippines and Japan would mark their diplomatic milestone. An official logo for the 2026 Philippines–Japan Friendship Year—celebrating seven decades of normalized relations—had been selected from global submissions. The winning design came from Edmon Fuerte, a Baguio-based artist whose understated aesthetic would become the visual cornerstone of a year-long initiative titled “Weaving the Future Together: Peace, Prosperity, Possibilities.”

The story of how this symbol came to be reveals something unexpected: that sometimes the most meaningful national declarations arrive not from grand gestures, but from deliberate simplicity.

The Geography of Creation

Baguio City shapes the minds that work within it. The fog that blankets the landscape slows the pace of thinking; the surrounding mountains impose a natural restraint on ambition. Fuerte, who has made this place his creative home, finds that such geography instructs his artistic practice. The slower rhythm, the way light behaves against the terrain—these conditions cultivated an approach centered on careful observation rather than obvious symbolism.

When the competition brief introduced its organizing concept—weaving—Fuerte’s thinking immediately turned toward threads. Not threads as decoration, but as metaphor: elements that remain distinct while becoming interdependent, held by both tension and unity. This foundation would guide every subsequent decision.

Two Materials, One Message

The final design draws from two textile traditions rooted in vastly different cultural contexts. Japanese shimenawa ropes, traditionally used to demarcate sacred ground, embody concepts of reverence, boundary, and transformation. Filipino abaca—Manila hemp—carries its own layered history, inseparable from the archipelago’s labor traditions, weaving practices, trade routes, and survival across centuries.

What attracted Fuerte to both materials was their shared humility. “They are humble, hand-worked materials,” he explains, “but they carry meaning beyond their physical form.” In the final composition, these two rope traditions intertwine, rendered in the chromatic palette of both nations’ flags. The Japanese sun and Philippine sun and three stars weave through the design, suggesting not a merger of equals into something new, but rather two distinct identities strengthening one another while preserving their separateness.

The Art of Knowing When to Stop

The most challenging phase of the design process was determining how far abstraction could stretch without sacrificing cultural authenticity. A logo intended for international contexts must communicate across diverse audiences and settings. It needed to register as meaningful without becoming literal; symbolic without veering into heavy-handedness.

This restraint reflects Fuerte’s core creative philosophy. Ask him to distill his practice into a single principle, and his answer emerges without hesitation: minimize, and trust that less contains more. This discipline shaped not just the final image but the entire methodology behind its creation.

Recognition and Deeper Meaning

The official notification arrived at Fuerte’s office via email—a small, ordinary delivery mechanism for an extraordinary validation. His design had prevailed among entries from around the world. Tangible rewards followed, including premium airfare between Manila and Tokyo via Japan Airlines. Yet for Fuerte, the deeper significance transcended these offerings.

“I feel grateful and blessed,” he reflects, contemplating how his work will now appear not only domestically but across Japanese institutions and official events throughout 2026. When asked which element of the theme resonates most personally, his response turns inward: prosperity. Growing up in modest circumstances, he harbors a wish that prosperity might one day transcend the symbolic realm and become lived reality for those who need it most.

The Strength of Quiet Connection

Without requiring knowledge of the design’s conceptual architecture, Fuerte hopes viewers encounter something fundamental and human: “A sense of connection,” he says, “something quiet, but intentional.”

Looking back at this moment, he frames it not as an ending but as evidence. Evidence that the values he has long cultivated—respect for material integrity, sensitivity to cultural specificity, attentiveness to process itself—possess real weight. In a year devoted to acknowledging seven decades of diplomatic partnership, it proves fitting that the chosen symbol arrived not through spectacle, but through patient, deliberate handcraft by an artist who grasps that the most enduring bonds often announce themselves in whispers rather than shouts.