The thirty “Artists of the Abbey” we have featured in this mostly-monthly series since its inauguration in September 2021 are connected by a common thread. Each one is an artist whose work is best described as “visual” in that their creations are meant to be seen. Be they utilitarian endeavors which involve the building or refurbishing of our furniture, or the construction or repair of liturgical vestments and other soft goods, or be they the creation of actual works of art, they are all best appreciated when seen by the eye. We have spotlighted artists and craftspeople whose work spans the centuries. The earliest ones we could only identify as “anonymous” in that they worked unnamed in collaboration as a group, in a medieval guild perhaps, fashioning stained-glass windows (December 2021), illuminated manuscripts (February 2022), and oak linenfold panels (April 2024).

John Fandel

This month we have chosen to feature a gentleman whose artwork is best understood and appreciated in words, spoken or sung, even though his work does appear visually as printed on the page, in books, pamphlets, even greeting cards. The poet John P. Fandel (1925-2011), a native of Yonkers, New York, has been in our sights for several years as an artistic “outlier”, whose art comes through in the hearing. While you may not see many visual images of his work in this tribute, as would be our usual custom, we will share examples of his poetry throughout, providing “images” appealing to the acoustic. Here is a person that definitely wore many hats throughout his life. We begin with a tribute penned five days after his death by Fr. Julian Stead of blessed memory, also a poet, one of many who reminisced about him online (see: legacy.com for John P. Fandel 2011):

Cover of Fandel’s book

In the 1956 Portsmouth Priory School yearbook, at that time called The Cowl, John, then about 30 years of age, is mentioned as Brother Giles, the religious name which he assumed here as a junior monk. An early mint copy of a Christmas card from the monastery, unfortunately with no date indicated but probably from the 1990’s, uses his lovely six-couplet poem, “On Christmas Morn,” on the front cover, over his name, John Fandel. A note on the reverse provides some biographical background: “John Fandel was a member of the community and a teacher at Portsmouth before becoming a professor of English at Manhattan College after serving on the faculties of Lawrence University and Notre Dame. He composed the school anthem and is the recipient of a number of prestigious awards for his poetry. For many years he served as poetry editor of Commonweal magazine.” He was associated with that publication from 1963 to 1979.
As for the school anthem referenced above, it comprises three stanzas, also in couplets, and is known as The Portsmouth Abbey School Song. Note must be made here Fandel provided the lyrics to the song, later set to music by Dr. Blake Billings ’77, our editor. Fr. Ambrose Wolverton had shared the poem with Dr. Billings when the School was in the midst of an effort to produce a school song. The first stanza:


A true wordsmith, Fandel published at least ten books of poetry and two books on prayer. Among those are two which are catalogued in the St. Thomas More Library and which are proudly marked as the work of a Faculty Author. The earlier of the two, Testament and Other Poems (Sheed & Ward, New York) was published in 1959, shortly after Fandel’s departure from monastic life to enter academia. The second book in our collection is On Poetry and Prayer: The Eighth Morning (Forward Movement Publications, Cincinnati) from 1995. It includes a curious little note, rarely if ever seen on a copyright page: “Any part of this little book may, by all means, be reproduced by every means, providing it be for the evangelization of the Word, the salvation of the world.”

As if that’s not encouragement enough to seek out a copy for yourself, here is another note on the back cover from the editor, Charles H. Long: “The Eighth Morning is the only book on poetry and prayer that I know of. To those who are poets or academics or mystics, a word of warning and encouragement. This book may be dangerous to your orientation. Its argument is not linear but multilayered. Do not stumble over words and allusions you do not at first understand. Just go with the flow and you will discover depths and heights and connections that were never open to you before.”

John Fandel’s stone in

the monastic cemetery

John Fandel was laid to rest on the grounds, in the Monks’ Cemetery, thirteen years ago last month. Rather than an upright slate headstone like most of the other graves, his marker is small, simple, flush to the ground and can be difficult to spot. The simplicity of the marking would seem to reflect the humility of the man, whose “poetry and prayer” were for many found not merely in the witness of his writing but also in the holiness of his living. A memorial article published by Manhattan College indicates that John “gave poetry readings at 40 colleges”, and at the college was particularly “known for his poems marking special occasions.” The lyrics that have become our School Song certainly confirm this “testament,” as his words make him present for our commencements and for other occasions shared with our School.
From On Poetry and Prayer: The Eighth Morning:
¶8:
But maybe poetry used to make things happen? Maybe it no longer can? Maybe no one reads poetry now except poets who make nothing happen but poems? Then Plato’s fears were silly and Auden’s sentence redundant and Yeats’ vision only voice-wrought blank verse? Maybe poetry can only make Movements happen, now, Imaginism, Objectivism, Vorticism, Activism, Projectivism … Beat … the Modernism of all the isms of Ists and Nics? Maybe all that poetry is supposed to make happen is delight, delight come from nourishing the ordinary with not too planned a counting of calories nor too long a jog (“The race of delight is short”); or just plain gladness – though “our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks,” not poems, however pyrotechnic?

1V78
Dear Is,
Poetry is about the creation, indeed; through the senses, in images ordered by an imagination, it makes a secondary world that opens our eyes to the primary one. It attempts to be as concrete as the world. Prayer, too, is about the creation, though only secondarily, its primary attention being on the Creator; about the creation, but for the Creator, prayer may never even become an image, not even a mental one: it may not ever become words. Poetry is seen; prayer is unseen. Poetry is heard, prayer desires to be heard. Poetry is felt, and so is prayer, the feeling of a silent imagining. How to express their relationship in a fitting style, a style that would be their union, not dictating but noting it, that is an ideal, one I am working to realize, concrete as a poem, profound as a prayer, in a book neither encyclopedic nor exhaustive, though informed – and, I pray, inspired.

Pray for me.
Ever yrs,
J

---

Helping with my research about John Fandel were Roberta Stevens, Dan McDonough, and Jamie MacGuire ’70, whose assistance I have greatly appreciated – Br. Sixtus Roslevich, O.S.B.