A retro review

I had been left with single copies of a few broken issues and had long desired to somehow complete my full set again, all of nearly 30 thematic issues. Jimmy himself had kept a complete set, which he lent over a year ago to Sarge Lacuesta for full digitalization. They may be accessed by clicking on this link.

Anyway, Jim promised to give me multiple copies of the issues I was missing. True enough, with brewed coffee and merienda of turron for added incentive, Jim came over with the Caracoa copies — along with a dozen of Dr. Faurot’s Wang Wei, which upon his request I had helped him design. It was published by PLAC sometime in the early 1990s.

So now I could tell Rowena that she’d have her copies soon, depending on how long it takes our nearly moribund Post Office to ship over a packet of printed matter via air mail.

Meanwhile, nostalgia brimmed. I just had to review the slim softcover edition of 56 pages, which also credits “Calligraphy by Martin Liu and Drawings by Augusto Ang Barcelona.”

Prof. Faurot, who had spent three years as a missionary teaching music in China before he moved to Japan and eventually settled in Dumaguete, writes in his Preface:

“Wang Wei had a genius able to express itself in three arts: poetry, painting, and music. He has been called ‘China’s Renaissance man,’ and the period in which he lived, the early years of the T’ang Dynasty (618-906), compared to the high Renaissance in Florence.

“… All his life Wang Wei sought out the beauty of country scenes, or rivers, lakes, mountains; and captured them in his verse. Court life involved many partings with friends, as favor smiled or frowned; and each farewell was the occasion of an exchange of poems. A common pastime of the day was that of capping or matching a poem, and many of Wang Wei’s short poems were the result of this sport.”

Here are some of Prof. Faurot’s translations:

“My Bamboo Lair”: “So soft I hum and strum my zither,/ Nestled in my bamboo lair,/ Not even mountain folk can listen./ Only moonbeams meet me there.”

“Mountain Dogwood”: “At the foot of the hill, red dogwoods bloom,/ The chill air deepens their sweet perfume./ Acacias glow against the dark./ My window frames fall’s sliver of moon.”

“Reply to Kuo, the Palace Clerk”: “Above the gate in late light, the council towers lift/ Where peach and pear in full flower,/ And down of willows drift on evening air./ Within your cell the palace bell/ Calls clerks—and rocks—to rest./ At dawn you’ll clink jade pendants/ Treading corridors of gold./ At night you’ll hear the word from heaven,/ When cattle gates shall close./ Yes, I should be beside you, but because I’m old,/ I’m bold to shed regalia, and seek here for repose.”

Prof. Faurot adds in his Preface:

“Wang Wei’s thought is seldom profound or concealed. He is for the most part highly objective, simply recording sights, sounds, impressions as they occur to him, without analysis or interpretation. It is the poet’s keen eye and fine sensitivity that give these their special quality. Wang Wei has been called cinematic, and we are constantly aware of the painter lurking within the poet.”

For this precious little book, Prof. Faurot asked his friend and Silliman colleague Augusto Ang Barcelona, the architect who designed the famed Luce Auditorium, to contribute the Chinese-style illustrations in pen and ink, while Martin Liu, another Dumagueteño, did the calligraphy.

Albert Faurot remains a legend in the university town, where his landmark residence called End House, with its shape and facade paying homage to a piano’s features, still stands at the end of Langheim Road on campus.

The summer writers’ workshop used to hold some of its sessions at End House, where the genial Prof. Faurot also treated us to musical programs and concerts.

Writer Ian Rosales Casocot once paid tribute to Prof. Faurot as “an unsung legend” who made Silliman University “a cultural mecca.” Ian wrote further: “He was a writer, a pianist, a nurturer of the arts, an exemplary professor. He wrote two influential textbooks on the arts — Culture Currents of World Art and Culture Currents of World Music.”

Unfortunately, after Prof. Faurot’s demise, certain university administrations failed to do justice to his musical legacy. End House was used as revolving quarters for music teachers and scholars but was left untended for the most part. Some of Prof. Faurot’s books and publications collection were sent to the university library. But some Torquemadas who found some homoerotic magazines put them all in a pile for burning.

Prof. Faurot’s piano, a Steinway concert grand, was bequeathed to a favorite working student who couldn’t complete the process of inheritance unless he paid up for years of supposed storage. Fortunately, a more enlightened university president finally waived this imposition. By this time, the destitute heir who had moved to Mindanao simply agreed to sell it to a piano tuner who had it sent to Cebu, where he fixed it up after years of disuse, before selling it for a hefty profit.

When Jimmy Abad and I met for coffee and the largesse of vintage copies of Caracoa and the Wang Wei book, I thought of asking friends in Dumaguete to find out if any corner of the Silliman library has been preserved with Prof. Faurot’s books, and perhaps some memorabilia. Then Jim and I could send over copies of Wang Wei to join these.

But from the feedback I got, that prospect doesn’t appear promising. A pity. The best we can do for now is share some copies of Prof. Albert Faurot’s Wang Wei book to Dumaguete friends who will treasure them.