In celebration of Antonio Heredia’s 94th birthday, Tatler Homes dives into the story of the Philippines’ most elusive brutalist architect and civil engineer
Amid the relentless demands for modern progress, a throughline of nostalgia seems to run through every pursuit. Cinemas rehash beloved franchises; the revival of Y2K fashion runs rampant in the streets. We have never been more advanced as a society, but somehow continue to look back on the revelries of the past for inspiration.
Perhaps it’s a sign of the times. With a complex geopolitical situation unfolding the world over, nothing about the future seems set in stone. But history is cyclical, a spiral from which we can take extensive notes. There was once a time when we rebuilt our nation from the rubble. And my maternal grandfather, the acclaimed architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia, was among the first to take that leap of faith.
Most people know him today for the ‘brutalist’ KFC along EDSA, which was the former site of the Pacific Office Machines Building. For the building’s design, my grandfather took inspiration from the company’s typewriters. Such design quirks drew me closer to my only living grandparent, of whom I have a handful of cherished memories. A cursory online search revealed bits and pieces of his story, but nothing cohesive–until now.
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Humble beginnings

Above Brutalist architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia upon his graduation from De La Salle University Manila

Above Brutalist architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia
Born on April 7, 1932, Antonio Lopez Heredia grew up travelling back and forth between his childhood home in Manila and his family home in Bacolod, an ornate space of which I have only seen mere glimpses. Still, I can imagine how such spaces paved the way for his eventual pursuit of civil engineering at De La Salle University and, subsequently, architecture at the University of Florida.
In the late 1940s, he met the woman he would one day marry and with whom he would have eleven children: my grandmother, Gregoria Yalong Morelos. In his heartfelt letters to her, he expressed a deep longing to build his beloved a house of her own. “Your Tony is ‘tops’ because you dream it so,” he wrote. “Dream some more so he may be a great architect in the field he loves.”
He spent much of his time working with architects near Miami, Florida, sharing his enthusiasm over his years-long developments of duplexes and lakeside homes with modern flair. “Boy, are they piling work on us,” he wrote. “We worked for two days and one night on my project ‘The Green House’…this upper division work is a rat race…a continuous one to keep–or else keep out.” My grandfather often apologised for not writing often enough, saying he was taking up seven projects per semester instead of five, so he could “finish early and work with Daddy, who is a structural engineer in Miami.”
Making a name for himself
After their marriage, Antonio and Gregoria Heredia settled in Florida for a while, with my grandfather taking on projects in Europe and the United States. My grandmother, a chemist from the University of the Philippines, poured her boundless energy into raising their eleven children, the youngest of whom is my mother.
Among my grandmother’s belongings was an extensive collection of newspaper clippings on her husband’s projects, many of which date from the 1970s onwards. “Tony Heredia, our avant-garde architect, just arrived from San Francisco after a contract for a $200 million Hotel-Condominium Shopping Center Complex in Burlingame,” one newspaper declared. “The architectural and engineering group in California was so impressed with Tony’s design and brilliant ideas that they are asking him to work for one of the largest architectural centres in California.”
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Above A physical rendering of a property designed by architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia

Above An imaginative sketch created by architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia
What set architect Heredia apart was his distinctive blend of engineering and architecture, best exemplified by his pioneering of post-tensioning in the Philippines. “He was amazed by the push and pull of tension steel bars laid over a concrete bed,” wrote my mother’s eldest sister, an architect herself, Mae Heredia-Vanden Dungen.
“It would be cured for days, and, when ready, the tension gears reached their maximum tensile levels. The contraption would bond into concrete, reaching 4000 PSI. This featured the best of both materials, as steel is weak in compression and concrete is weak in tension.” Some of her fondest memories with her father involved such in-depth conversations; he called post-tensioning ‘a totally different animal’ and would “go on and on in this explanation.”
Later, the positive post-tensioning was copyrighted by his colleague, engineer Narciso Schutz Padilla, through the Prescon System. “He wanted to give Dad royalties for his designs, but Dad rejected them,” my aunt shared. “In his mind, he wanted distinctions between his roles as architect, engineer and contractor, reducing the conflict of interest. He was a contradiction in terms, being both an architect and an engineer.”
Still, there was no simple–or truly necessary–way to extricate the dual passions of an architect and an engineer from one another. Architect Heredia also pioneered column-free buildings through the old Unimart and the Greenhills Theatre. This truly innovative approach led “laymen to accuse him of construction flaws” until other companies began copying the system.
“Dad’s buildings could withstand Richter 8 earthquakes, as compared to buildings with wedge-edges built up to the standard of Richter 5 earthquakes,” my aunt continued. Even economically, the combination of both factors made perfect sense. The removal of the column and the reduction of slab thickness minimised costs while maintaining material strength.
From Bataan to Baguio—and beyond

Above A newspaper clipping of the old Greenhills Theatre, designed by architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia
Architect Heredia was known for taking an unconventional approach, inspired by the modernist German architect Mies Van Der Rhoe. His Berlin Museum project was a steel-and-glass structure devoid of columns, an approach Heredia replicated in the Greenhills Theater in concrete. Notable features of this project include its weather-protected outer lobby and long ramps for disabled patrons to access the building, a progressive feat for its time.
Another one of my grandfather’s most notable projects was the Bataan Hilltop Hotel, a seahorse-shaped dormitory-hotel overlooking the Export Processing Zone (EPZ)’s industrial areas and the Mariveles Bay. Construction of the 42-room hotel began in February 1974, along with recreational facilities such as a pool, sauna, barbershop, golf course, and Peloton and tennis courts.

Above A newspaper advertisement for the Tower Condominium in Baguio, designed by architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia

Above Construction of the Tower Condominium in Baguio, designed by architect and civil engineer Antonio Heredia
Along with this, my mother recalls a Baguio project, the Tower Condominium, which they would often trek up from Manila to visit. Designed for Henry Ng, the owner of Unimart, Architect Heredia was faced with an interesting challenge: that of a tall structure across the way. For the condominium to stand out, my grandfather “designed stilted scenic elevators leading up to the condominiums for a full view over and above the obstruction,” my aunt wrote to me.
An unforgettable fixture on EDSA highway
But perhaps the most memorable project my grandfather created was the aforementioned Pacific Office Machines Building, which has taken on many lives since first breaking ground. A cultural touchstone in its own right, the building’s odd angularities now house a Kentucky Fried Chicken, complete with a drive-through.
At the time of the building’s construction, Epifanio De Los Santos Avenue (EDSA) was a far cry from the buzzing, ever-congested road it is today. The company was headed by Ronald Reidenbach and the Dychiao brothers, who moved their headquarters from Makati City to the developing EDSA. Their products included typewriters, cash registers, and calculators, the literal bulk of which inspired Architect Heredia to create such a timeless and eye-catching structure.

Above The repurposed Pacific Office Machines Building on EDSA, which has now become a Kentucky Fried Chicken (Photo: Reddit / JuggernautOk8669)
The building’s red-and-grey façade may, technically, disqualify it from the unvarnished expectations of brutalist architecture. Still, it remains rooted in lofty, post-war projections of independence and strength. My grandfather was perfectly attuned to such a brutalist period; when my mother shares stories about growing up, she often gushes about how he pushed the envelope with his designs, even down to the cabinets and dressers in their Quezon City home.
Today, my grandfather remains the contemplative, brilliant man he’s always been. His structures, including an apartment building still standing in Legaspi Village, Makati, have blended into the fabric of Manila’s constant evolution. Gone are the grand proclamations of his youth. But in its place stands an enduring commitment to Philippine architectural history.
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