The Enigma of the Silver Spoon: A Tale of Passion, Provenance, and Plastic Bins
- sandylichauco
- May 1
- 4 min read
In the high-stakes world of historical collecting, some names are spoken with a mix of reverence and hushed mystery. Mr. Melvin Lam, President of the Bayanihan Collectors Club (BCC), is one such figure. To the uninitiated, he is a quiet man often seen at club soirees alongside his Chairman and dynamic collector, Mr. Edward Delos Santos. Yet behind this simple façade lies a collector of such immense scale that a visit to his home is a life-altering event.
I have been honored to view his collection in private—an experience I will never forget. It was not only unbelievable but definitely orgasmic; I saw things I thought I would never see in my lifetime. I’ve seen his legendary arrays of medals, his swords and daggers, his indigenous costumes, and the precious Anting-Anting (amulets) he documented in a classic co-authored book, which, by the way, is in its 2nd edition. His World War II collection is, by far, the most comprehensive in this part of the world. So, when he held an exhibit at the MINTED MNL Spotlight show last March, I was intrigued. What could he possibly exhibit now? As I waited at his table—right beside my good friend Mr. Byron Milstead, who was showcasing his own fascinating Philippine countermark collection (https://www.nineteenkopongkopong.com/post/the-byron-milstead-spotlight-exhibit-a-strategic-guide-in-collecting-philippine-counterstamps-and ) —Melvin arrived. He didn't have armored crates or a security detail; he had humble, large plastic containers in tow. From these modest bins, he unveiled a treasure that stopped me in my tracks: a sprawling, shimmering assembly of vintage Philippine silver spoons.
In the scholarly world of collecting, we have specific titles: a coin collector is a numismatist, and a postcard enthusiast is a deltiologist. I asked myself, "What do you call a silver-spoon collector?” According to the digital oracles (Google), a collector of silver spoons is simply—and perhaps a bit humorously—called a "spooner."
Whether or not Melvin embraces the title, his collection is a masterclass in Philippine history through the lens of decorative arts. These are not your "garden-variety" kitchen utensils; they are artifacts from the late 19th and early 20th centuries, bridging the twilight of Spanish colonialism and the dawn of the American era. Whatever the name, Melvin’s collection of vintage silver spoons—dating back to the late 19th century—is simply remarkable.
This extraordinary collection transcends the utility of common kitchenware, serving instead as a breathtaking visual archive of a nation navigating the complexities of its colonial transition—proving that, for some, a spoon was never just a vehicle for soup. It is truly marvelous to witness how these silver artifacts encapsulate the Philippine soul, featuring intricate repoussé and chasing that bring to life everything from the "Sun and Stars" of the national flag to the humble bahay kubo and the essential "Rice" pattern handles. The vibrancy of the hand-painted enameled bowls is nothing short of spectacular, offering miniature pastoral scenes and portraits of women in Baro’t Saya that make modern souvenir magnets look downright lazy by comparison. Beyond their botanical beauty and heraldic crests, these pieces act as an emotional "time machine," preserving the naval legacy of Admiral Dewey and the ghost-like footprints of vanished landscapes like Malecon Drive. Coated in a rich, dark patina that whispers of century-old tropical humidity, this collection stands as a brilliant, slightly overachieving testament to the enduring artistic heritage of the Philippine Islands. His collection is so vast that we’ve decided to just present it in a slideshow for a better appreciation of the vastness of this “Spooner’s” collection.
Melvin’s passion is almost frightening in its intensity. He is the kind of collector who can attend his first Manila Pen Show at the Peninsula in 2025 as a novice and who bought his very first fountain pen, only to return to the 2026 Fairmont show as a peer among the masters, having already assembled a world-class collection of Namiki Emperor fountain pens (those legendary Size 50 nibs!). Yet despite the high value of some of his acquisitions, Melvin remains "allergic" to the very idea of price. For him, the object is a vessel for a story. He inherited his father's "baton" for collecting, but he has transformed it into modern advocacy. His mission is to ensure the next generation doesn't just see these silver spoons or WWII medals as "old stuff," but understands them as the tangible DNA of our history, and, most especially, the meaning behind the Maki-e artwork on his Namiki Emperors, and the symbolisms they represent. Remember, for Melvin, it is always about the narrative, and this is best presented in the way he showcases his Fountain pens as seen from the numerous posts on his Instagram account:
Melvin and I are planning a multi-month exhibit featuring vintage and modern fountain pens—a project I am deeply excited about that should highlight his evolution as a fountain pen collector and our attempt to tell stories from our respective fountain pen collections.
In a world of enigmas, Melvin Lam is the best kind: a humble man with a massive heart, lugging plastic bins full of history, ensuring the past is never truly tucked away in a drawer. In the end, it isn't the spoon's silver content that matters most—it’s the golden heart of the man holding it, and, whatever the monetary value people assign to his collection, Melvin remains one of the nicest, humblest, and most respected guys I have ever met. He isn't just a "spooner" or a numismatist; he is a guardian of our collective memory. For me, that counts a lot—and in the end, that is what truly counts the most.
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