Mass Of Thanksgiving For The Life And Witness Of The Late
JOHN ALEXANDER BEADLE
April 2, 1964-April 16, 2024
SERVICE HELD AT St. Anne’s Anglican Church Fox Hill Road.
Nassau, The Bahamas
Saturday May 4, 2024 at 10:00 am
OFFICIATING Archdeacon, Ven. The Hugh A. Bartlett Jr., Rector
ASSISTED BY: Retired Archdeacon, The Ven. G. Kingsley Knowles, Assistant Clergy
ORGANIST:
Mr. Drexel Munroe
Ifigure you create a space where the viewer who walks into the space becomes the spectacle. So when they move into the space they feel small…you feel the weight of the objects in the space. So you ask to take some time to look around because you want to discover what is this thing that’s pressing against you, that’s forcing you to cringe…to get small and consider. That’s how I want my work to be. I want you to feel my work.
JOHN BEADLE
John Beadle’s creative genius was etched into his DNA, passed down from his maternal greatgrandfather, William Alexander Bain, who was a music teacher who mastered many musical instruments. Also sowing a rich endowment were Wilhelmina Morrison, who was John’s maternal grandmother, a seamstress par excellence who if given a half yard of cloth would create something magical and his mother, Beatrice Veronica Beadle, who was credited with a variety of skills which included: sewing, tapestry, crocheting, embroidery and cooking. Not least were the legacies of his father, John Beadle who worked well with his hands in masonry and carpentry, diligently and meticulously building his family’s first home.
Born April 2nd, 1964, John was the son of two very proud parents: John Alexander Beadle, a Jamaican and his wife Beatrice, a Bahamian. John was the third child and first son of this union. His love for woodwork and wood carving was cultivated through many venturesome weekends exploring nature. Giving further evidence of John’s lifelong romance with this medium was the intricate wood carving series most recently produced and displayed in his show titled “Splinters and Shards”. His love of nature also manifested in his garden where flowering and other plants spring in abundance, presenting delighted viewers with a kaleidoscope of bright colors. He would also venture out for hours to the ocean hole that was about a mile away from home. He
would return from such jaunts ladened with gifts of nature’s bounty—fish, pigeons, and pigeon plums.
John’s natural gifts blossomed in abundance. He was an individual with many talents and hobbies which included martial arts (he held a black belt in Karate), soccer, swimming, art, general science, with emphasis placed on electronics and physics. Of these last two areas of focus, he explained, “My attention was mainly divided between art and electronics, alternating between the two, never being able to work on both, spending weeks, sometimes months on one subject then the other when I felt that one had been neglected.”
He would eventually accomplish his goal by fusing his two passions. The successful marriage of these two pursuits was evident in his newfound passion, junkanoo. ‘Adventurous’ and ‘determined’ were descriptions that were eminently fitting for John.
John, called “JB” by many, began his formal fine art studies at The College of the Bahamas. After completing the core subjects of the program there, he transferred to the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) from which he graduated with a BFA. The next rung up the academic ladder was the MFA in Painting which he earned at Tyler School of Art, Temple University, where his program also included a period of study in Rome, Italy. In 1991, John was named “Emerging Artist of
Latin America & the Caribbean” in Nagoya, Japan, and, in 2008, his work was featured in the documentary Artists of The Bahamas.
The productivity that followed John’s formal studies and his ongoing explorations in various art forms was evident in a wealth of brilliant exhibitions and residencies, local and international, which included the following:
Big River 3 International Artists’ Workshop, Aripo, Trinidad (2006); Funky Nassau Nassauischer Kunstverein, Wiesbaden, Germany (2006); 5th Insaka International Artists Workshop, Livingston, Zambia (2010); Caribbean Pavilion at the Liverpool Biennial (2010); traveling exhibition, Master Artists of The Bahamas (2012); The John Beadle Project, solo show at The National Art Gallery of The Bahamas (2013);
Internationale D’Art Contemporain Martinique, Biennial in Martinique (2014); EN MAS: Carnival and Performing Art of the Caribbean, New Orleans, (2015), (travelled to Nassau and Cayman Islands, 2016), and to the Dustable Museum of African American History, the Museum of African Diaspora in San Francisco and the Ulrick Museum in Kansas (2017-18); Nassau Calling, Hilger Brotkunsthalle, Vienna (2016); Overseas: Contemporary Art in Cuba and The Bahamas, Halle14, Leipzig Germany (2017); “We Suffer to Remain”, Art Gallery of the Bahamas, Nassau, with the British Council (2018); “Splinters and Shards”, TERN Gallery, New Providence, (2022). John’s work appeared in several books including several of the illustrations in Patricia Glinton-Meicholas’ books An Evening in Guanima and More Talkin’ Bahamian.
Next on the agenda of this beautiful life came a deeply fulfilling union. In 1993 while visiting the office of Jackson Burnside and Patrick Rahming (The Architects Partnership). He and his friends Clive Stuart and Dagineau Burns frequented the firm for occasional work from Jackson Burnside, and there John met Shelly. After having many conversations over the phone, John got up the nerve to ask Shelly out. The pair married on 22 November 2004. It was a union founded on love, deep mutual respect and support as well as many shared goals and experiences. The couple produced daughter Jonnique Beadle, who has become an artist following in the footsteps of her dad and a son John Alexander Beadle III who, sadly, was lost to miscarriage.
In his six decades, John lived a rich, full, giving life, driven by a well-endowed, active mind, ever
exploring the endless possibilities of the universe. He was an avid reader and passionate about documenting things of significance. He was a contributing member of the National Junkanoo Committee Board. For his fruitful participation in this beloved, spectacular Bahamian tradition, he was inducted into The Junkanoo Legends Circle in 2023.
April 15, 2023, John was advised of what he termed “The Affliction”. In his own determined way, he continued to fight until April 16, 2024, when he quietly transitioned unto eternal peace.
John was a dearly held gift to his family, friends, the circle of artists, his homeland and all who knew him.
Cherished memories will forever linger in the hearts of his Wife: Shelly Beadle, Daughter: Jonnique Beadle, Brothers: Anthony and Ricardo Beadle, Sisters: Mae Beadle, Monique P. Forbes, Monique S. Meronard, Dewshon Fox and Lavonda Smith. Aunts: Christabel Johnson and Gina Craigg
Uncles: Hugh and Keith Morrison, Martin, Ernest, Claude and Ashton
Beadle
Mother-in-Law: Betty Brown
Brothers-in-Law: Bruce Smith, Stephen Fox Sr., Kenol Meronard, Kevin, Keith, Mario & Kenyon Brown,
Sisters-in-Law: Betty, Dawn & Cicely Brown, Nephews: Duran and Dominique Beadle, Alex, Ashton Lavaughn and Dimitri Forbes, Stephen Fox, Rumeko Young, Kevin, Kenaz, Malikh & Jahnai Brown, Justin Adderley
Nieces: Cherisse Forbes, Deandra Foulkes, Sonia Sears, Sonja and Statesha Fox, Rikia & Ricara Beadle Raemiesh Darling, Azaria, Briah and Tamara Brown and Maranique Smith
Grandnephews: Drogo, Logan and Ameir Beadle, Demajio and Demani Forbes, Adah, J’Abrie and Kai Fox and Zyhaire Rolle.
Grandnieces: Maddysyn Major, Zari Sears, Brielle Fox
A host of other relatives and friends including: Jacob Adderley and Family, Kenneth Morrison and family, Wendell Morrison, Jermaine
Johnson and family, Monique Munnings and Family, Dellarese Smith and Family, Rosalie Green and Family, Stubbs Family, Vincent Curry & Family, Joette Edwards & Family, Joanne Knowles & Family, Dawn Davies, Stanley & Dennie Burnside & Family, Christina “Muffin” Fernander, Neko & Patti Meicholas, Shannan Mackey & Family, Petra Wallace & Family, Pastor Dwight Ferguson & Family, Noel “Butta” Fernander & Family, Keith Rolle & Family, Elton & Dwana Gibson & Family, Ingrid Lloyd, Antonious Roberts & Family, Captain Eugene Munroe, Vernon “Non” Rolle & Family, Holli Bain, One Family Junkanoo Group Organization, Tyrone Ferguson, Eddie Minnis, Vaughn Roberts, Krista Thompson PhD, Erica James PhD, Marysa Malone, John Cox & Family, Kendra Forrup, June Collie, Uli & Amanda & Family, NAGB, Tern Gallery, Sixty 2 Sixty Art Gallery, CAB Gallery & Studio, Gallery & Wine Bar, D’Aguilar Art Foundation, Hillside House, A Place for Art, Central Bank, Mario “Slim” Outten & Family, Clive Stuart, Jolyon Smith & Family, Constance
Smith & Family, Dagineau Burns, Jay Koment & Family, Thomas & Faith Cleare, Silbert & Aisha Clarke & The Girls, Ellery Deveaux & Family, Dennis Hanna & Family, Raynard Rigby & Family, Doyle Burrows & Family, Greg Burrows & Family, Lynden Miller & Family, Winton Heights Community, Dr. Susan Williams-Lockhart, Marlene McKinney, Allison Gill & Family, Ashley Smith & Family, Deranique Knowles & Family, Stephen Bain & Family, Tabitha Higgins & Family, Kenisha Small & Family, Devonte & Kasa Hanna, Jordan Hutchenson Family, Judy Miller & Family, Audbrey Hanna, Elsie Smith, The Moss Family, Arlene & Silbert Ferguson, Lavender Bakes, Former Jackson Burnside Ltd & Doongalik Studios Family, Cannon Crosley Walkine, Archdeacon Hugh Bartlett & Family, Archdeacon Kingsley
Knowles & Family, St Anne’s Anglican Church, Stephano Smith, Jatequa & Shanarie Bain, Jamie Lewis & Family, Cedric L. Parker & Co., H. Campbell Cleare III, Audley Mitchell, PMH Oncology, Sister Support Group, Executive Family Medical, Dr. Ricardo Davis, The Entire Junkanoo Community, The Entire Art Community.
For those family and friends whose names may not have been mentioned, please note it was not intentional and we thank you for being there for John.
May the Memory of John A. Beadle life continue to shine and provide solace to all who knew him.
In Lieu of flowers, donations can be made to Sister Sister support group in memory of John A. Beadle.
ORDER OF SERVICE
THE RECEPTION OF THE CREMAINS
Priest: With faith in Jesus Christ, we receive the cremains of our brother John. Our brother was washed in Holy Baptism and anointed with the Holy Spirit. Let us therefore, with confidence, pray to God our Heavenly Father, the Giver of life, that He will raise him to perfection in the company of the Saints.
Priest: The Lord be with you.
All: And also with you.
Priest: O God of grace and glory, we remember before you this day our brother John. We thank you for giving him to us, his family and friends, to know and love as a companion on our earthly pilgrimage. In your boundless compassion, console us who mourn. Give us faith to see in death the gate of eternal life, so that in quiet confidence we may continue our course on earth, until, by your call, we are reunited with those who have gone before; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
All: Amen.
THE OPENING SENTENCES
Jesus said, I am the resurrection, and I am the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and who ever lives and believes in me shall never die. John 11:25-26
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His compassion never fails: every morning they are renewed. Lamentations 3:22-23
Jesus said, Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. John 14:1
I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39
If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living. Romans 14:8-9
We brought nothing into the world, and we take nothing out. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away: Blessed be the name of the Lord. Job 1:21
The eternal God is our refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. Deuteronomy 33:27
TRIBUTES | Mr. Stanley Burnside (Mentor, Artist & friend)
Ms. Christina “Muffin” Fernander (former One Family Junkanoo Group Leader & Friend)
Mr. Antonius Roberts (Artist & Friend)
Mr. Thomas Cleare (Family Friend)
Dr. Susan Williams-Lockhart (Family Friend)
The Hon. Mario K. Bowleg, MP, Minister of Youth, sports and Culture
THE HYMN | Through All The Changing Scenes
Through all the changing scenes of life, in trouble and in joy, the praises of my God shall still my heart and tongue employ.
O magnify the Lord with me, with me exalt his Name; when in distress to him I called, he to my rescue came.
The hosts of God encamp around the dwellings of the just; deliverance he affords to all who on his succor trust.
O make but trial of his love; experience will decide how blest are they, and only they who in his truth confide.
Fear him, ye saints, and you will then have nothing else to fear; make you his service your delight; your wants shall be his care.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, The God whom we adore, Be glory, as it was, is now, And shall be evermore.
THE
COLLECT FOR PURITY
Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid: cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your Holy Name, through Christ our Lord. Amen.
THE KYRIE
Lord, have mercy. Lord have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord have mercy.
THE COLLECT
Almighty God, we remember before you today your servant John, and we pray that, having opened to him the gates of larger life, you will receive him more and more into your joyful service, that, with all who have served you in the past, he may share in the eternal victory of Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
All: Amen.
THE LESSON | Isaiah 61:1-3 | Ellery Deveaux (Friend)
Reader: A Reading from the Book of Isaiah, chapter 61, beginning at verse 1.
The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good tidings to the afflicted; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion – to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified. The Word of the Lord. All: Thanks be to God.
THE HYMN | The Lord’s My Shepherd
The Lord’s my shepherd, I’ll not want he makes me down to lie in pastures green; he leadeth me the quiet waters by
My soul he doth restore again and me to walk doth make within the paths of righteousness e’en for his own name’s sake
Yea though I walk through death’s dark vale yet will I fear no ill; for thou art with me, and thy rod and staff me comfort still
My table thou hast furnished in presence of my foes my head thou dost with oil anoint and my cup overflows
Goodness and mercy all my life shall surely follow me and in God’s house for evermore my dwelling-place shall be
THE EPISTLE | 2 Corinthians 4:16 - 5:9 | Dwana Gibson (Family Friend)
Reader: A Reading from the Second letter to the Corinthians, chapter 4, beginning at verse 16.
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, because we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. Here indeed we groan, and long to put on our heavenly dwelling, so that by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we sigh with anxiety; not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. So we are always of good courage; we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. We are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. The Word of the Lord.
All: Thanks be to God.
THE HYMN | Master, Speak! Thy Servant Heareth
Master, speak! Thy servant heareth, Waiting for Thy gracious word, Longing for Thy voice that cheereth; Master! let it now be heard. I am listening, Lord, for Thee: What hast Thou to say to me?
Speak to me by name, O Master, Let me know it is to me; Speak, that I may follow faster, With a step more firm and free, Where the Shepherd leads the flock, In the shadow of the rock.
Master, speak! Though least and lowest, Let me not unheard depart; Master, speak! For O, Thou knowest All the yearning of my heart, Knowest all its truest need: Speak! and make me blest indeed.
Master, speak! and make me ready, When Thy voice is truly heard, With obedience glad and steady Still to follow every word. I am listening, Lord, for Thee: Master, speak! O, speak to me!
THE HOLY GOSPEL | John 6:37-40
Clergy: A reading from the Holy Gospel according to John.
All: Glory to Christ our Saviour
Jesus said, “All that the Father gives me will come to me; and him who comes to me I will not cast out. For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me; and this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up at the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that every one who sees the Son and believes in him should have eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day.” The Gospel of Christ
All: Praise to Christ our Lord.
THE GOSPEL RESPONSE | I Serve A Risen Saviour
I serve a risen Saviour He’s in the world today I know that He is living whatever men may say I see His hand of mercy I hear His voice of cheer And just the time I need Him He’s always near
He lives, He lives, Christ Jesus lives today He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way He lives, He lives, salvation to impart You ask me how I know He lives! He lives within my heart
In all the world around me I see His loving care And tho’ my heart grows weary I never will despair I know that He is leading thro’ all the stormy blast
The day of His appearing will come at last
Rejoice, rejoice O Christian, lift up your voice and sing Eternal Hallelujahs to Jesus Christ the King
The Hope of all who see Him the help of all who find None other is so loving, so good and kind
THE SERMON | Ven. Hugh Bartlett Jr.
THE CREED
Priest: Let us with confidence and hope confess the faith into which we were baptized, as we say,
All: I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth.
I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day He rose again. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.
THE INTERCESSIONS | Sanaa & Sai Clarke (God daughters)
Leader: Let us pray.
Almighty God, you have knit your chosen people together in one communion, in the mystical body of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord: Give to your whole Church in heaven and on earth your light and your pea
All: Hear us, Lord.
Leader: May all who have been baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection die to sin and rise to newness of life, and may we with Him pass through the grave and gate of death to our joyful resurrection.
All: Hear us, Lord
Leader: Grant to us who are still in our pilgrimage, and who walk as yet by faith, that your Holy Spirit may lead us in holiness and righteousness all our days.
All: Hear us, Lord.
Leader: Grant to all who mourn a sure confidence in your loving care that, casting all their sorrow on you, they may know the consolation of your love.
All: Hear us, Lord.
Leader: Give courage and faith to those who are bereaved, that they may have strength to meet the days ahead in the comfort of a holy and certain hope, and in joyful expectation of eternal life with those they love.
All: Hear us, Lord.
Priest: Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to you our brother John, who was reborn by water and the Spirit in Holy Baptism. Grant that his death may recall to us your victory over death, and be an occasion for us to renew our trust in your Father’s love. Give us, we pray, the faith to follow where you led the way; and where you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, to the ages of ages. Amen.
THE ACT OF PENITENCE
Priest If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Let us therefore confess our sins.
All: Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, we have sinned against you and one another, in thought, word and deed, and in what we have left undone. We are sorry and repent of all our sins. For your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ’s sake, forgive us all that is past, and grant that we may serve you in newness of life to the glory of your Name. Amen.
Priest Almighty God, have mercy upon you, pardon and deliver you from all your sins, confirm and strengthen you in all goodness, and keep you in life eternal; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
THE HYMN | And Can It Be
And can it be that I should gain an interest in the Savior’s blood? Died He for me, who caused His pain—For me, who Him to death pursued? Amazing love! How can it be, that Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
’Tis mystery all: th’Immortal dies: Who can explore His strange design? In vain the firstborn seraph tries to sound the depths of love divine. ’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore, let angel minds inquire no more.
He left His Father’s throne above so free, so infinite His grace— Emptied Himself of all but love, and bled for Adam’s helpless race: ’Tis mercy all, immense and free, for O my God, it found out me!
Long my imprisoned spirit lay, fast bound in sin and nature’s night; Thine eye diffused a quickening ray—I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
No condemnation now I dread; Jesus, and all in Him, is mine; Alive in Him, my living Head, and clothed in righteousness divine, Bold I approach th’eternal throne, and claim the crown, through Christ my own.
THE PRAYER OVER THE GIFTS
Priest Through Your goodness Lord, we have this bread and wine to offer, the fruit of the earth and the work of human hands. They will become our spiritual food. All: All things come from You, O Lord, and of your own do we give you. Blessed be God for ever. Amen.
THE EUCHARISTIC PRAYER
Priest: The Lord be with you.
All: And also with you.
Priest: Lift up your hearts.
All: We lift them up to the Lord
Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord our God
All: It is right to give God thanks and praise.
Priest: It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere to give you thanks, Father almighty, everlasting God:
Through Jesus Christ our Lord; who rose victorious from the dead, and comforts us with the blessed hope of life eternal. For to your faithful people, O Lord, life is changed, not ended; and when our mortal body lies in death, there is prepared for us a dwelling place eternal in the heavens.
Therefore we praise you, joining our voices with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven, who forever sing this hymn to proclaim the glory of your Name:
All: Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might; heaven and earth are full of your glory, Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.
Priest: Sovereign Lord and Father, To you be glory and praise for ever. In your boundless wisdom you brought creation into being; In your great love you fashioned us in your image; In your tender compassion you sent your Son, Jesus Christ, our Saviour, to share our human nature; In the power of the Holy Spirit, He overcame the power of sin and death and brought your people to new birth as first fruits of your new creation.
On the night that He was betrayed He took bread, and when He had given thanks to you, He broke it and gave it to his disciples and said: “Take this, and eat it: This is my Body which is given for you, Do this for the remembrance of me.”
And after supper He took the cup of wine: and when He had given thanks, He gave it to them and said: “Drink this, all of you: This is my Blood of the New Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this for the remembrance of me.”
Priest: Therefore, Father, according to the command of your dearly beloved Son
All: We remember His death We proclaim His resurrection We await His coming in glory
Priest: And we offer you, Father, our sacrifice of thanks and praise. Send your Holy Spirit on these gifts of bread and wine that they may become the Body and Blood of your Son, Jesus, our Lord and Redeemer. As we partake of this holy food of new and unending life, may your Holy Spirit establish us as a royal priesthood with the Blessed Virgin Mary, Blessed John the Baptist, Anne and all your sons and daughters who share in your eternal inheritance; Through Jesus Christ our Lord. With Him and in Him and through Him, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we worship you, Father Almighty, with all who stand before you in earth and heaven, in songs of everlasting praise:
All: Blessing and honour and glory and power be yours forever and ever. Amen.
Priest: As our Saviour has taught us, so we pray:
All: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your Name; your kingdom come; your will be done on earth as in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and forever. Amen.
Priest: God of promise, You have prepared a Banquet for us All: Happy are those who are called to the supper of the Lamb.
THE AGNUS DEI
All: Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world: grant him rest. Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world: grant him rest.
Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world: grant him rest eternal.
Priest: The Gifts of God for the people of God.
All: Our souls will feast and be satisfied, and we will sing glad songs of praise to Him.
SOLO | Mr. Urvan Moxey (Friend)
THE COMMUNION HYMNS
THE HYMN | Great is Thy faithfulness
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father
There is no shadow of turning with Thee Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not; As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.
Refrain:
Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see; All I have needed Thy hand hath provided Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!
Summer and winter and springtime and harvest Sun, moon and stars in their courses above Join with all nature in manifold witness To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love
Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth, Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide; Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!
THE HYMN | Because He Lives
God sent his son they called him Jesus
He came to love, heal and forgive He lived and died to buy my pardon
An empty grave is there to prove my Saviour live
Refrain:
Because he lives, I can face tomorrow
Because he lives, all fear is gone
Because I know he holds the future
And life is worth the living just because he lives
How sweet to hold a newborn baby
And feel the pride and joy he gives
But greater still the calm assurance
This child can face uncertain days because he lives
And then one day I’ll cross the river
I’ll fight life’s final war with pain
And then as death gives way to vict’ry
I’ll see the lights of glory and I’ll know he lives
THE HYMN | Blessed Assurance, Jesus is mine
Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine Oh what a foretaste of glory divine Heir of salvation, purchase of God born of His Spirit, washed in His blood
Refrain:
This is my story, this is my song praising my Saviour all the day long
This is my story, this is my song praising my Saviour all the day long
Perfect submission, perfect delight Visions of rapture now burst on my sight Angels descending, bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers of love
Perfect submission, all is at rest I in my Saviour am happy and blest
Watching and waiting, looking above Filled with His goodness, lost in His love
THE
POST COMMUNION PRAYER
All: Almighty God, we thank you that in your great love you have fed us with the spiritual food and drink of the Body and Blood of your son Jesus Christ, and have given us a foretaste of your heavenly banquet. Grant that this Sacrament may be to us a comfort in affliction, and a pledge of our inheritance in that kingdom where there is no death, neither sorrow nor crying, but the fullness of joy with all your saints, through Jesus Christ our Saviour. Amen.
THE HYMN | I’ll Fly Away
Some glad morning when this life is o’er, I’ll fly away;
To a home on God’s celestial shore, I’ll fly away I’ll fly away.
Refrain:
I’ll fly away, fly away, Oh Glory
I’ll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by, I’ll fly away I’ll fly away.
When the shadows of this life have gone, I’ll fly away;
Like a bird from prison bars has flown, I’ll fly away I’ll fly away
Oh. How glad and happy when we meet I’ll fly away
No more cold iron shackles on my feet
I’ll fly away
Just a few more weary days and then, I’ll fly away;
To a land where joy shall never end, I’ll fly away I’ll fly away
THE COMMENDATION
Priest: Give rest, O Christ, to your servant with your saints. All: Where sorrow and pain are no more, neither sighing, but life everlasting.
Priest: You only are immortal, the creator and maker of mankind; and we are mortal, formed of the earth, and to earth shall we return. For so did you ordain when you created me, saying, “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.” All of us go down to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
All: Give rest, O Christ, to your servant with your saints, where sorrow and pain are no more, neither sighing, but life everlasting.
Priest: Let us commend our brother John to the mercy of God our Maker and Redeemer.
Deliver your servant, John, O Sovereign Lord Christ, from all evil, and set him free from every bond, that he may rest with all your saints in the eternal habitations; where with the Father and the Holy Spirit you live and reign, one God for ever and ever. Amen
Priest: Lord have mercy
All: Christ have mercy
Priest: Lord have mercy
Our Father in heaven….
All: hallowed be Your Name, your kingdom come; your will be done on earth as in heaven. Give us today our daily bread, forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us. Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and forever. Amen.
Priest: The Lord be with you.
All: And also with you.
Priest: Let us pray.
Into your hands, O merciful Saviour, we commend your servant John. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, in the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light. Amen
Priest: Rest eternal grant unto him, O Lord
All: And let light perpetual shine upon him.
Priest: May he rest in peace.
All: Amen.
Priest: May his soul and the souls of all the faithful through the mercies of God, rest in peace.
All: Amen.
THE HYMN | For All The Saints
For all the saints, who from their labors rest, who thee by faith before the world confessed, thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed. Alleluia, Alleluia!
Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might; thou, Lord, their Captain in the well fought fight; thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light. Alleluia, Alleluia!
O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold, fight as the saints who nobly fought of old, and win, with them the victor’s crown of gold. Alleluia, Alleluia!
O blest communion, fellowship divine! we feebly struggle, they in glory shine; all are one in thee, for all are thine. Alleluia, Alleluia!
And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long, steals on the ear the distant triumph song, and hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong. Alleluia, Alleluia!
The golden evening brightens in the west; soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest; sweet is the calm of paradise the blest. Alleluia, Alleluia!
But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day; the saints triumphant rise in bright array; the King of glory passes on his way. Alleluia, Alleluia!
From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast, through gates of pearl streams in the countless host, singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost: Alleluia, Alleluia!
MY HUSBAND WAS FROM A DIFFERENT PLACE AND TIME!
When I first met John Beadle back in 1993, his approach was not the usual “Boy meets Girl” and the courting starts. He was given my number by his friend Clive Stuart and didn’t call until what seemed like weeks later. I guess he was trying to gather his thoughts on what to say. His approach I later learned to everything was with caution and careful thought. His hand was never shown right off. He was humble, respectful and stated upfront that he was not looking for a committed relationship. I said “okayyyy” neither am I. As time went on I guess we both forgot what we were looking for, and we became very committed to one another.
Understanding his ways was difficult for me as I was, as he would say “very thin skinned”. John sometimes came off harsh, however I came to understand that he didn’t butter things up. He always said that people didn’t like hearing the truth, because “the truth makes a man’s eye red”. Understanding his philosophy on truth helped to make me a much stronger person and I respected him for that.
John had standards that did not sway no matter the situation. He was a straight shooter, he was honest, kind, thoughtful and dependable. He was a great teacher and sometimes I thought his baptisms were by fire.
There were times I saw his frustration when there was an overload of information and ideas in his head. It was like the ideas that he wanted to present became overwhelming with only 24 hours in any given day. He didn’t waste time, every minute of every day was used thinking, planning and executing the next project or commitment at hand. Sometimes I thought that his thoughts and ideas were bigger than the world could handle. He would say “ I wonder if my talent was a gift or a curse! I quickly reassured him that it was a gift and a blessing from God.
He was very meticulous and took pride everything he did. John was a hard worker, who once committed to something, saw it through to the end. He was a good father to our daughter and loved teaching. He took pride in teaching anyone who showed an interest in learning or growing.
John loved life and all the offerings of it. He seemed to have had a love for almost anything. He loved and spoke so highly of his grand-mother, mother, aunts, sisters and women in general. He was fascinated by mechanics, the way things moved, structure and the way things worked. He was a lover of plants and nature.
When we learned of John’s ‘affliction’, as he would call it, I became numb.
John and I shared a love that was special. We lived life, we loved ourselves and others. Whatever he was committed to, I joined him in. From the long nights in the junkanoo shack to working on home projects we stuck together. God was the glue to our relationship.
He has left Jonnique and myself with a wealth of knowledge, experiences, good friends and a legacy.
My husband was from a different place and time!
I hope to visit him there some day and have a real glimpse of the world from whence he came. Must be a beautiful place. Rest in peace Mister.
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty Psalms 91, 1
TO DADDY
You were my first love, you are my hero, my role model and my inspiration to be unapologetically myself. You taught me how to be strong, confident and humble and to do everything with intention and grace.
I miss you so much. I miss your sense of humor and our laughing at jokes that mummy didn’t understand. We had a language that most people wouldn’t comprehend. I miss our daddy daughter dates and self-care days. I miss asking you to do things that I knew I could handle on my own, but I just wanted my daddy to take care of.
You are the blueprint for how any being should treat family, friends and colleagues. You were fair and direct. You always made sure mummy and I were priority. Your love for her was known. She was your queen and your muse. I only pray to find a husband that treats me the way you treated mummy.
Each day I’m seeing more of you in me and that brings me so much comfort. I will continue to make you proud.
Sleep in greatness daddy, I love you.
Jonnique Beadle
JOHN “JB” BEADLE: TRIBUTE TO A WARRIOR FOR EXCELLENCE
A wise old Bahamian man once told me, “Man like that can’t die!” So, what’s the point of saying goodbye to John “JB” Beadle? A few observations:
In 1992, in her book on Bahamian Art, Patti Glinton Meicholas paid tribute to JB saying,“No laureate (honour conferred by the writer) was ever more deserving of his crown than John Beadle for sheer virtuosity in style and variety of media and depth of theme. No other Bahamian artist of his generation approaches Beadle in pure invention.” She ain’t lie.
With his 30+ years involved in Junkanoo, as a Saxon designer and eventually as One Family’s Principal Designer to glorious results, JB is considered one of the greatest to ever do it. He, Jackson and I spent many hours in the Junkanoo Shack collaborating on costumes. Eventually, we three (Burnside, Beadle, Burnside) created a body of work called JAMMIN’ 1 using that same collaborative process we used in the shack to create Fine Arts pieces. Next came JAMMIN 2, (with the addition of Antonius Roberts and Brent Malone). After Brent Malone and Jackson passed, Beadle, Roberts and I came together to create JAMMIN 4 in tribute.
I was bursting with pride when JB, along with some of our other remarkably talented C.O.B art students (Beadle, Clive Stuart, Sabrina Glinton, Dagineau Burns and David Ernest) formed the critically acclaimed OPUS 5, a group that actually inspired the formation of B-C.A.U.S.E. (Bahamian Creative Artists United for Serious Expression, with members Stan Burnside, Jackson Burnside, John Beadle, Antonius Roberts, Brent Malone and Max Taylor).
I’ll never forget a B-C.A.U.S.E. meeting when Brent Malone declared, “Out of all of us, JB is the most talented!” He ain’t lie.
JB was featured in the “Master Artists of The Bahamas” Movie and Exhibition, which solidified his position in the Bahamian art firmament.
Recently, he held his brilliant last one man show at the Tern Gallery. When it comes to the full scope of JB’s humongus contribution to Fine Arts and Junkanoo in we Bahamaland, many books will be written and many stories will be told.
My brother Jackson found a kindred spirit in JB, one who, like he, was equally fluent in the arts and sciences. When they dialogued at Doongalik Studios, it was like hearing an ancient language. They were both geniuses, and we can rest assured that the dialogue continues in another dimension.
JB was a family man, who adored his grandparents and his parents, and was proud of his Bahamian and Jamaican roots. He loved his sisters Mae, Monique and Lavonda (Shelly’s sisters Betty, Dawn and Cicely) his brothers Anthony and Ricardo and his mother-in-law, Betty Brown. They were so tight, you could tell he really loved them and they loved him.
In this last year JB and I had many soul searching conversations about love and life, conversations that were always centered around the love of his life, his devoted wife Shelly. He always thanked God for blessing him with such a wonderful partner. Of all his achievements, creations and works of art, he was most proud of his daughter Jonnique, who he considered to be his masterpiece, and he doted on her. She and Shelly are his hearts. Some will say goodbye but I never will. John was the true personification of a Warrior for Excellence and will live forever through his works and in our hearts.
Long Live The King. -Stanley Burnside
Iam grateful that on this occasion of the home going of my brother and friend John A. Beadle, that his wife Shelly has granted me the honor to share these few words of tribute.
One of Beadle’s most notable achievements was his ability to blend traditional Junkanoo art forms with modern techniques, creating a style that was both timeless and uniquely his own. His use of cardboard, metal, wood and stone echo the spirit of our ancestors drawing viewers into a world of wonder and storytelling.
Beyond his artistic talents, Beadle was also a dedicated advocate for the Junkanoo arts in the Bahamas. He worked tirelessly to promote and encourage Junkanoo artists and provide opportunities for them to showcase their work beyond Bay Street. His efforts helped to elevate the profile of Junkanoo art and push the boundaries between Junkanoo costumes and sculpture.
As a tribute to John A. Beadle, it is important to recognize the impact he has had on Junkanoo and the legacy he has left behind. His passion, creativity, and dedication to his craft serve as an inspiration to artists everywhere, reminding us of the power of art to transcend boundaries and connect people from all walks of life.
John A. Beadle, a Bahamian artist of unparalleled talent, has captivated audiences around the world with his vibrant and soul-stirring creations. His work, a tapestry of colors, emotions, and reclaimed objects, reflect the spirit and essence of the Bahamas and the Caribbean with unparalleled depth and passion.
Throughout his illustrious career, John Beadle has pushed the boundaries of artistic expression, seamlessly blending traditional Bahamian art forms with contemporary techniques. His commitment to excellence and refusal to settle for mediocrity have set him apart as a visionary in the art world.
Beyond his artistic explorations, John Beadle is a man of integrity, compassion, and unwavering dedication to his craft and his family. His journey from a young radical to
a seasoned artist has been marked by a relentless pursuit of perfection and a deep love for his heritage.
John and I met on Thursdays for lunch at fish fry, we discussed and shared personal stories about ways to navigate and survive the sometimes very difficult art culture in The Bahamas. However we both felt the need to remain connected to our place of birth and be guided by stories of our elders, cultural traditions along with the socio political climate of The Bahamas in particular and the Caribbean in general as references for our artistic expressions.
One program we had agreed to explore together, was the development of a pilot sculpture program at The University of The Bahamas. John was to recruit eight to twelve young men involved with Junkanoo and provide them with the opportunity to enroll in the program under his tutelage. He felt strongly that by providing these young creatives with an opportunity to work in an art studio space, exposed to art techniques, would totally transform their lives and help them to see themselves as sculptors and not just Junkanoo artists.
Today, we are honored to witness the culmination of John Beadle’s artistic journey, a journey that has left an indelible mark on the art world and continues to inspire generations to come. May his legacy endure as a beacon of creativity and excellence for all who are fortunate enough to experience his art.
Let us stand together and give a rousing hand of applause celebrating the genius of John A. Beadle, a Bahamian artist whose spirit transcends canvas and paint, and whose vision will forever illuminate the hearts and minds of all who behold his creations.
Richard Brent Malone and Jackson Logan Burnside III are waiting to receive you my brother and friend, we know that the three of you will be Jammin’ all over heaven!
My deep love, respect even in death my friend, I will miss our Thursday lunches at The Fish Fry!
Antonius Roberts Artist/Sculptor
JOHN BEADLE
was a STAR - quiet, humble, deep-thinking STAR! His artistry and talent have been extensively lauded by all those who knew him: as student, as teacher, as artist, as collaborator and as friend.
I am delighted and honoured to have known John and to have some of his works in my home and garden, each piece having a story and/or thoughtful message addressing the world and the circumstances in which we live. A work might lament the cutting down of an ancient mahogany tree, an unfortunate miscarriage, or the scarring of the landscape caused by urban waste as portrayed through the careless disposal of bottles and cans, or, more importantly, his artworks address much, much deeper social ills and injustice. His work incorporated intellect, ingenuity, message and beauty. He was an observant and an honest man (sometimes I knew not to seek his opinion!), a deep thinker, with a talent that knew no bounds.
To say that we are the poorer without him is an understatement in the extreme. I so enjoyed our talks, whether I was visiting his former studio near my home (with coffee in hand) or at my home (with a toddy of rum), our conversations were fun, honest and meaningful! I love you, John Beadle, will miss you enormously, and hope that you will now rest in peace eternal!
-Dawn Davies
John read a text that I had written about his art work for a museum acquisitions report last year, and assessed that while the text was good, it lacked “flourish.” We laughed as I explained the strategic purposes of the document. I could always depend on John to be straight-shooting, quickwitted, brutally honest, and humorous in his assessments of everything, from a piece of writing to the broader workings of, meanings and manifestations of, Bahamian art and culture. I am taking the opportunity here to revise parts of that text, but no amount of writerly embellishment can capture John’s extraordinary talent and his outsized impact on art in The Bahamas and the Caribbean.
Taking up John’s prompt, “flourish” might aptly characterize John’s signature artistic style, the distinctive way that curvilinear lines moved across his work with beauty, surety, and grace. You could always recognize John’s deft hand whether it traversed an ink drawing, oil painting, wooden sculpture or cardboard structure or whether manifest in the materials that he incorporated into his work, from the natural curves
of a branch to the crescent edges of a machete. His work seemed simultaneously to have an enlivened presence, but to mark, to retrace, something that was there before.
John constantly moved the line on what constituted artistic excellence and innovation in The Bahamas. He often reinvented his work—moving from painting to sculpture and back again and in between, moving from the Junkanoo shack to the studio and back again and in between. Each new phase exhibited a level of learnedness, of virtuosity, that would take many people a life-time to achieve. John forged new artistic forms, visual languages, that offered ever generative ways of understanding, seeing, feeling Bahamian culture, Jamaican culture, Caribbean culture, African culture. A keen observer, listener, thinker, provocateur, John continually engaged in a deep study of Bahamian culture and local approaches to art and world-making. His work perhaps embodied what he described as the Bahamian aesthetic of Junk-a-new, the transformation of everyday engagements with materials in our environment—from the ornamental wrought iron, the clapboard house, the breeze block to the cardboard inner structures of Junkanoo costumes—into resonant objects of beauty.
Flourish, meaning “to grow well or luxuriantly; thrive,” also describes John’s transformative impact on the artistic community in Nassau, how it thrived, we thrived, through his presence, his example, his instigation, his criticism, his demand for excellence. From the time that John returned to Nassau from his studies at the Rhode Island School of Design and Temple University, he became an integral part of a group of young artists which came to include Dagineau Burns, Eric Ellis, Sabrina Glinton, Monique Rolle, Jolyon Smith, and Clive Stuart. Known as OPUS 5, they produced work of the highest professional standards and unapologetically challenged the status quo in The Bahamas. They, significantly, newly modelled what being an artist in a community of artists could be in The Bahamas, at a time when aspiring artists (and art historians) were often warned of the unviability of careers in art. John, in further indication of his unique and exceptional role in Bahamian art, also worked alongside stalwarts of Bahamian art like Jackson Burnside, Stan Burnside, R. Brent Malone, Antonius Roberts, and Maxwell Taylor who formed B-CAUSE in 1991. With Jackson and Stan and then with other members of this group, he at times created paintings collectively, drawing on the collaborative art-making strategies used in Junkanoo. John also belonged to the Junkanoo community as an innovative designer for the Saxons and One Family Junkanoo groups and was an ardent supporter of the National Art Gallery of The Bahamas. John, in his art work and through his artistic collaborations and cross generational conversations, worked like almost no other artist to nurture the art ecosystem in The Bahamas. This is a devastating loss for our community, but perhaps in the current success of so many Bahamian artists at home and abroad we can luxuriate in his legacy.
Krista Thompson Ph.D.
“DAS ALL YOU NEED!”
When I first went to college in the US, the three magi- John Beadle, Clive Stuart, Jolyon Smith, gave me a special gift- a cassette tape with Steel Pulse’s music on one side and Third World on the other. John said I would need it on my journey, in fact he said - “Man, das all you need!”
I had met them (and later Daj Burns) two years before at the then College of the Bahamas. They had long since graduated but seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the art studio room and came as needed. We thought they secretly lived there and were in awe of their talent.
John was the quietest of the four, almost mythical because already at RISD, we saw him less. However I realized early on that his eyes took everything in. He treated us (Dionne Benjamin-Smith, Najah Finlayson, Adrian Ramsey, Monique Rolle and I) a little mean at first, but we quickly understood that it was because we had to prove ourselves to him. He needed to see whether we were “real” artists.
I don’t remember when the tide shifted, but in that first year the fellas became the coolest examples of artists to us. We thought John could do anything, because well - he could. Though John became more brotherly and kind, to our benefit, he was never easy on us.
But whenever we needed help with something, they were there. John and the guys taught me how to build stretchers and stretch canvas; How to give work a finished frame using inexpensive slates; Work ethic and hustle. I remember being in a crisis because they were allowing a few of us young’uns to exhibit with them in an Opus exhibition and I couldn’t figure out how to stabilize the largest work I had ever done at that point. Probably at Stan Burnside’s command, John and Jolyon showed up at my house and helped me mount it on the same matrix it is on today. Because they were so skilled, it was expertly done the first time and remains in pristine condition.
At the end of my first year at COB, Clive, Jolyon joined John at RISD, and the following year I was on my way to Vassar. I thought they would forget about me because unlike Dionne and Monique, I hadn’t followed them to Rhode Island. But when they sent me a homemade birthday card that first year, you would think they had pressed it at Hallmark themselves; it meant the world to me and more important, that I was still in the COB art fold.
Years later after the NAGB opened, John and I would have more one on one conversations. I grew to depend on him to always be present at talks, openings, and programs. If no one appreciated what we were doing in those early days, I knew he and the late Jackson Burnside did. They were similar in some ways and would tell me exactly what they thought. It wasn’t always positive - but I understood that criticism from them was a sign of care. They were happy that the NAGB was there, and they wanted the gallery to succeed.
John showed his support in other ways as well. He was in every National Exhibition; Every major thematic show. I had the hon-
or of making the first purchases for the National Collection and when I realized that his paintings “Mass Transportation” and “Emancipation Day Boat Cruise” were both available, we started some tough negotiations. He understood his worth. Though it took some convincing, I was over the moon when the Board agreed to purchase those beautiful and deeply meaningful paintings. Combined with recent acquisitions of his work, his art has become a pillar of the National Collection. I will carefully observe and do my best to make sure that they are cared for, studied, and exhibited.
I am thankful for John Beadle’s life, his talents, his mind, and generosity. I am grateful that I got to share some of it with him and came to know that more than an amazing artist, he was a good and honorable man.
As I wrote this, I decided to listen to some of the music that was on that cassette tape more than 30 years ago and realized it was so “John”. Read, listen, and understand. Always conscious, always on point, it was one of the best gifts, from one of the best gifts to “us” - ever.
Erica James Ph.D.
THE STUDIO MASTER
When I think of John Beadle, I think of the quietness of the inside of my studio very early in the morning before the distraction of the day. John told me long ago to always treat your studio as a sacred and private space.
Our studios are spaces of meditation, discovery and regeneration reserved only for those trusted and closest to us.
John held his creative process as if it were a spiritual practice and he was a monk in a monastery holding the highest regard for the doctrines of exploration, experimentation, and examination. He had a uniquely heightened awareness of every aspect of everything he made and everything he said, and we were privileged to bear witness to this through the genius of his practice.
He taught me never to begin any creative endeavor with an apology, but instead to lead confidently with the attitude that nothing was undoable, and to formulate ideas from a position of freedom. A freedom to dream, design, critique, invent, reinvent and most importantly, the freedom to play.
Mentor Jackson Burnside III would often quote an architecture professor of his in saying, ‘The answer to how is, YES!’. This sums up John’s creative spirit and enthusiasm to participate. While the rigor in his practice was arguably unmatched, his attitude was always to engage projects that provoked worthwhile creative and cultural discourse. John was selfless in this
way which gave institutions both big and small access to his long roster of ideas and innovations.
John said the more we could be still with the work, the more the work would reveal the nuances that anchor and define the very foundation of our art. He would say to me that the viewer needed to become a participant in the full creative cycle if the art we set out to make were to succeed. To him, it was how we became one with work.
John taught me to be assertive and curious. He challenged me through candid, sometimes brutal, but always beautiful conversation to realize new dimensions within my own creative vocabulary.
Many artists today have rendered themselves complicated and trapped by a cut throat and crowd pleasing art system. John was and is the opposite of this, his legacy is the epitome of the very essence of creativity, a master linguist of many creative languages, yet a slave to none of them. A thoughtful thinker, a meticulous maker, a cosmopolitan composer and a fortuitous friend….a Maestro among men.
We owe a debt of gratitude to him for making the best of us even better.
‘Mine is not the Bossa Nova, Mine is the DOUNG-KA-LICK’. (John Beadle - Statement in catalogue for “Kindred Spirits”, first exhibition of the group B-C.A.U.S.E. Dec. 1991)
Thank you John Beadle!
John Cox
Chairman of the Board of Directors – National Art Gallery of The Bahamas
John Beadle was a legend and a riddle: biggety but humble, serious but playful, warmly supportive but a tough critic, always with respect and in the way that made you a better artist, arts professional or human being. A genius in multiple mediums: canvas, printmaking, sculpture, carving, and installation and in both what is (unfairly) referred to as “high art” or “craft art.” If he committed to a project, he didn’t show up halfway: he was “all in” and expected excellence from all his coworkers, whether in the galleries of The National Art Gallery of The Bahamas (NAGB) or in the shack. Neither one was “above” the other, each was a place to hone skills and represent Bahamian excellence. He was a man who stayed true to himself, who shared his knowledge with anyone who was truly committed to their practice. Due to his own authenticity and honesty, his work was not always so easy for people—whether that be the public or the politicians—to accept. It was raw, it was honest, it was salty, like the man himself. He was also funny and had a laugh that made you forgive any of his critiques. During my tenure at the NAGB, it was my deepest privilege to work with JB, in his role both as an artist on multiple shows (too many to list) and as a curator, when he organized the Ace of Spades show in memory of The Valley Boys’ Gus Cooper, where he recreated the inside of a Junkanoo shack, something never seen before at the NAGB. He mentored our young team there—as he did many emerging artists in our community—and pushed them, and all of us, to bring our best. He was a joy to work with and he will be sorely missed. The art community grieves with his family. Rest in Power JB.
-Amanda
Coulson, NAGB Executive Director (2011-2021)
JOHN BEADLE AND THE FRONTIERS OF SPACE
A Tribute by the National Art Gallery of The Bahamas
John Beadle was a masterful artist-explorer who traversed myriad frontiers of space over many decades as one of the foremost artists in the post-independence Bahamas.
He has been described as “a monster talent”, “brilliant”, “meticulous”, and “expansive”. His passing in his sixtieth year has left a cavernous space in the visual and creative arts in The Bahamas.
A frontier may be a border separating different entities or “the extreme limit of understanding or achievement in a particular area.” The frontiers of space John explored and the limits he courageously crossed, with determination and integrity, were those of an imagination unafraid of settled, artificial, or colonial boundaries.
He explored with a treasury of tools and material. Trained as a painter and printmaker, John utilized metal, paint, wood, clay, repurposed material, black iron, limestone, cardboard, plywood, paper, and other material and forms to create and to mount extraordinary installations.
His friend and colleague, John Cox, enthused: “John Beadle was a maker of art at the highest levels, a builder of ideas, and a builder
of spaces; spaces he was not afraid to be the first to venture into, or the last to leave.
“His practice far transcended any one arena or designation yet always found itself in dialogue with the spaces we occupy because of his provoking us to participate, to dance, to cry, to fight, to realize, but most of all to be still with the work.”
John’s cosmopolitan spirit was honed and enhanced by a collage of experience or what Caribbean Nobel Laureate, Derek Walcott, described as, “the fragments of epic memory.” Like Walcott and other Caribbean creatives, he blended his life experience, academic training, and other influences into artistry uniquely Bahamian.
The son of a Jamaican father and Bahamian mother, he formally studied art overseas, was deeply conversant with many traditions of art, and participated in numerous and varied art shows and programs at home and across continents.
Still, his art was indigenous, native, proudly Bahamian; as he celebrated, critiqued, and explored the realities and material of Bahamian history and life. His critiques were incisive, sometimes brutal, but always honest.
Boundaries between the sacred and the profane were often blended or shattered in his explorations of slavery and colonialism, the natural environment, the migrant experience, poverty, violence, racial and national identity, and other areas.
His ethos, wide lens, microscopic attention to details, and artistic palette may be appreciated in his oft-repeated lyrical and provocative aphorism: ‘Mine is not the bossa nova, mine is the DOUNG-KA-LICK’.
Though he appreciated traditions like the Brazilian bossa nova, John’s spirit was that of the Bahamian imagination, infused with the operatic pageantry, roots, and ground provisions of Junkanoo and other chords of the Bahamian experience.
John’s indigenous imagination and exploration was captured in his reimagining of material, similar to what generations of the descendants of slaves have done in Junkanoo. He once reflected on his use of cardboard:
“Cardboard is ubiquitous. It’s a packing material and you throw it away, it’s something you overlook. After its initial use, it becomes garbage. The question [sic] I first had when I started using it, outside of thinking about it in regards to Junkanoo, is how to use it as a metaphor for something else?
“I then started looking at painting and works of art as being precious. But the justification in using cardboard was that this is the same material as canvas in a way.”
John was often a lone explorer. He was also deeply collaborative, a constant presence at the National Art Gallery and other artistic locales including, as Art Director of Doongalick Studios for a period. He was an avid participant for One Family as a designer.
John was a member of OPUS 5 and Bahamian Creative Artists United for Serious Expression (B-CAUSE). He was the youngest of the group, which included, Jackson and Stan Burnside, Antonius Roberts, Brent Malone and Maxwell Taylor. He also participated in the ‘jammin’ series with other master artists including Antonius, Jackson, and Stan.
His artistry extended beyond the space and span of a number of generations. He encouraged younger artists, serving as a repository for newer artists.
In 2013, NAGB showcased The John Beadle Project: Personal Space…Secure Space. This major exhibition featured multimedia pieces, sculptures and paintings. In the foreword of the exhibition catalogue, his mentor, Stan Burnside, wrote of JB:
“And so, it is in his work that we find the poetry and lyrics of the man, blooming like a garden in spring. He has a remarkable ability to cut to the core of the social issues, searching for truth, and because his views are always weighed by his integrity, sometimes his findings are brutal.
“But, always anchoring his insightful investigations is the hope of a better future for the children of our planet.”
It has been said of John’s work, “His gestures seem to resonate deep into the material.” By extension, his decades of brilliance will resonate in the Bahamian imagination for posterity.
The National Art Gallery expresses condolences to John’s wife, Shelly, their daughter, Jonnique, and his other family, friends and colleagues. We thank our late companion and fellow-artist with profound gratitude.
Our lasting tribute to John, is our commitment to replenish the artistry, “poetry and lyrics of the man”, with the quality of “truth”, insightful investigation”, and “integrity” he exhibited in “the hope of a better future for the children of our [Bahamas] and our planet.”
ARLENE’S TRIBUTE TO JOHN BEADLE.
It was when I went to work for Jackson and Pam Burnside at Doongalik Studios, that I got the opportunity to work with the already legendary John Beadle.
Doongalik was a marvel of creativity and free flowing genius, with John pivotal to this incredible journey. Jackson decided that we would ‘tell our own story’, and produce a book on Junkanoo. It was the first of its kind –an inside look at the Junkanoo festival, that took us right into the shack experience, and the annual journey to Bay. It was illustrated by John Beadle and Jolyon Smith, and for me it was a journey of constant surprises and unexpected twists. I stood in awe of John’s absolute inability to think ‘normal’. The book is a work of art.
John was introduced to One Family by Stan Burnside, and in the shacks, he worked mostly with Jackson Burnside. His genius was immediately apparent, an inseparable part of him, as natural as breathing. With few words, under his direction, ordinary, discarded cardboard took on a life of its own. When John was in the shack, every single soul there realized that something special was happening. In his presence, the magic became real...we could see the victory. His work was ‘stupid’ – the highest compliment. He was a vital part of the teams working on lead pieces and big dancers, and became known especially for his ability to carve. So brilliant his work, that everyone wanted a John Beadle head for their costume.
Silbert realized that he was the only person he trusted to carve the likeness of the first honourees inducted into the JCNP Shack of Fame, and John carved and bronzed them. Special features requested for my costumes could only be done by one person – John Beadle. He was the nonpareil.
And so, the creator returns to the Great Creator. The loss is immeasurable. We thank God for the privilege of having shared time and space with John…this creative light that inspired all of us. May the angels lead him into Paradise.
Arlene Nash-Ferguson
In memory of a special brother so full of loving deeds, he always thought of others first and helped fulfill their needs. Someone who loved to bring a smile as he went along his way, and never failed to brighten up a dark and gloomy day. Someone who will never know how much he’s missed and thought about for when he left, it seemed as if the stars had all gone out my brother meant so much in every single way and will always be remembered with much love today and every day rest in peace my beloved brother.
your loving sister
Monique P. Forbes
A TRIBUTE TO UNCLE JOHN
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a day would come when you wouldn’t be here to offer your advice or lend a helping hand. Your physical presence may be gone, but the spirit of Uncle John lives on. Uncle John’s legacy as an artist and his contributions to the Bahamian art scene motivated aspiring artists to strive for excellence in their own work. His success served as a reminder that with passion, hard work, and a deep connection to their roots, they too could make a significant impact in the art world. The life lessons you imparted to everyone around you will forever remain ingrained in our hearts.
On behalf of all your nephews, I can confidently say that you were the greatest role model we could have ever asked for. Whenever a family member needed assistance, you were always more than willing to lend a helping hand. If your siblings faced a problem, you would show up with a solution. In the realm of art and Junkanoo, you were a true giant, but to your family, you were a patriarch, and filling your shoes will not be an easy task.
I fondly remember the times when you would take me to the shack as a young boy, teaching me the tricks and techniques of costume building, this was your way of passing down years of knowledge to the following generation. During Christmas, you would ask for my help in carving out lead costume heads with your custom-made tools, and you would say, “This is what you get when you combine creativity and engineering.” These memories hold a special place in my heart.
We find solace in knowing that you are in a better place, free from pain and anguish. We carry on with the life lessons you taught us and strive to emulate the example you set throughout your life. Your absence is deeply felt by both friends and family.
Uncle John, you are missed, but your legacy lives on through your artwork, your wisdom, and the impact you had on all our lives. Rest in peace, knowing that your memory will forever be cherished.
Love you always
Your Nephew Dominique B
“JOHN
BEADLE!” “CICELY BROWN!”
A tight, warm embrace and a smile was the way we greeted each other and in recent years, when we departed I’d say, “John Beadle! I love you! His retort was, “I love you too!”
I was asked what it was like to have John as a brother-in-law and although my immediate response was “Everything”, I didn’t realize it would become the impetus for my tribute to John.
John and I had a bond that was unique. The genuine and mutual level of love, respect, honor, loyalty and the list can go on for decades was unparalleled. I admired and revered John. There were times John’s name would come up in conversation and the way I wore the title John Beadle’s sister-in-law, you’d swear I was receiving an award. Of course I couldn’t wait to tell him about it. There were moments Shelly and I would be conversing and mid-sentence I’d blurt out, “Shelly, I love John!” Her response was always the same, “Aww sis, he loves you too!” and without skipping a beat the conversation would continue. John and I communicated often, about anything and everything. When I needed facts on anything, it was always “Let me call John” and no doubt he’d have the answers; I could depend on a link providing more insight.
John was more than a brother-in-law; he was like my older brother; only blood separated us and he was protective of me as brothers are naturally with their sisters. He had my back 100%. It plagues my mind to recall a time I needed John for anything and the answer was no. I called, messaged, showed up at the house and his studio, sometimes unannounced a battalion times; so that’s a lot of “Yes’”. If John needed anything, there was always one of two responses, “You say that like it’s a problem” or “C’mon John Beadle, you know anything for you”. John was also my therapist, he didn’t listen to respond, he listened to understand. When I needed to vent, he was there. He knew when to just listen, when to give advice and when to offer a solution. If the facts hurt my feelings, then so be it. I appreciated his candor. We were comfortable with each other to be able to express ourselves without judgement.
We had our own language. In times of the brother/sister gossip, we referred to persons as “Ya boy” or “Home girl” and if either of us didn’t catch on immediately, we made up a description on the spot. After a good laugh, we’d get back to the gossip. When we roasted Shelly, she was referred to as “this one” or “that one”. Without shame, I was the official John Beadle scape goat; if we wanted to hang out, he would say, “Call your sister and tell her let’s go ‘coz she wants to stay home”. He knew I would apply the right amount of pressure AND guilt so we could go; we were worse than children.
When we went out, WE HAD FUN! And although Shelly warned us, mainly John, that we would not close the event, we did every time. On the way home, amongst other things, that became the topic. John’s response would be, “I’m here for a good time, not a long time!” I’d say to him, “John, we know our limits, we just don’t pay attention. His retort, “You gat that right!”
My John was everything to me; these words are merely a snapshot of what our relationship was like. We shared some amazing moments and made unforgettable memories.
John Beadle! I miss you so much and as the cliché goes “I love you more than words can express”. Simply put, it’s a feeling that had to be experienced to comprehend. I am eternally grateful for the time I have known you and have no regrets.
I impart the words of the Irish blessing upon when the gates of heaven are opened, “May the road rise to meet you, may the winds be always at your back and may the sun shine warm upon your face” as you take your place amongst kings.
John Beadle, I love you!!
JOHN BEADLE: A LIGHT FOREVER UNDIMMED
A Tribute by Patricia Glinton-Meicholas
My undying friendship and love for John Beadle was sparked by Stan Burnside, a long-acknowledged master artist.
My connection was initiated decades ago when Stan headed the painting section of the Art Department at the College of The Bahamas (now University of The Bahamas), and I chaired the Humanities Faculty. One day, Stan invited me to his office to tell me of the great talents he had found among his students. I made time to visit the Art Room with him and it was astonishing. Sadly, the conditions of the COB art facilities fell far below the excellence of the human capital. What greeted me was a cramped, ramshackle space, divided into make-do cubicles, with makeshift equipment, many tubes of paint wrinkled by forced continued service beyond use by date. The shambles dimmed, however, eclipsed by the brilliance of 18 and 20-something-year-old students. In their work, I saw visual music in the play of colour, light and shade. They were riffing the heartbeat of homeland, sad and sweet, syncopated yet funereal, reflecting a young nation’s struggles to self-define. Under Stan’s guidance, respect and love, many players in that early, plangent orchestra would later be elevated to the pantheon of art masters. His request to me—Renovate
the Art Room into a space which would match its claimed identity as a womb for nascent, masterful art.
Stan’s next request? Help him to get the clearly brilliant John Beadle and Jolyon Smith formal acceptance into COB to develop portfolios that would surely get them into a degree program at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). Done and done. The relationship with these two and others continued. I began acquiring student works, not to build a financial portfolio but to invest in human promise. John reciprocated. When my entire art collection was stolen, John came quietly to give one of his pieces—the first to do so. For my first book, An Evening in Guanima, I invited several of the students to illustrate a story. John ended up producing many more when some others disappointed.
Stan Burnside continued his caring into the future, as I did in any way my own talents and means allowed. Later, I was joined in this effort by my husband Neko whose brotherhood with John predated mine. He shared a cubicle in the Art room and spent many days interacting with that congenial, unconventional throng, which embraced, among others Clive Stuart, Jolyon, Erica James, Dionne Benjamin, Najah Feaste, David ‘Fire’ Ernest, Dagineau Burns and other dawning lights, some who later flickered and some who blazed. Our friendship with John Beadle was fated to continue and deepen as protective drawbridges were lowered.
Even from the earliest days, Beadle showed all the buds of genius which eventually fruited gloriously. JB’s work leapt past canvas, Masonite, Gesso, pigments and wood in his dynamic, unceasing pursuit of deep innovation, eschewing fashionable, saleable novelty. The driving engine
was a phenomenal work ethic and a quick, febrile mind that read, ingested thoughtful books, schools of thought, art movements and accounts of the lives of artists from near and far.
You had to work to discover John’s immense mental treasure trove. With a highly personal reserve and a deep commitment to enhancing his gifts, he was contemptuous of seeking quick recognition in slavish obeisance to the “received” art world and its often boutique-crafted themes and lobbies. John did not admit posers or art bargain hunters into his rare and closely guarded confidence and inner circle.
In his productions, JB waded into deep, cerebral water to baptize his viewers in light and movement as well as in uniquely radical, always personal interpretations of society and his worlds. In one such work, a back-turned washerwoman hangs clothes on an outdoor line. Her yellow dress floods the canvas in the dreamy lights of memory. This and a self-portrait are pieces Neko and I have loved and lived with for decades. So too we cherish a “Jammings”, part of a series he and brothers Stan and Jackson Burnside produced. In this “Burnside Beadle Burnside” partnership of diamond brilliance, the men explored the febrile, barking, drumming, dancing, squawking and fertile clapboard life of Nassau’s Over-theHill. Whenever John took his own luminous, one-man visual opera to public exhibition, we gloried in his triumphs and acclaim.
Steeped in the literary arts, I recognized and celebrated virtuoso plastic metaphors in Beadle’s use of diverse media. He was political in his reflections on immigration, which is often blighted by prejudicial ‘othering’. Consider the
machete waterfall of his installation
“In Another Man’s Yard”, a work so pregnant in its representation of the challenges of and by the outsider. It was his “Proxemics Series”, however, which brilliantly limned the 21st century Bahamian redefinition of essential space in relation to others. Reflected is an increasing need for protective separation, rather than promotion of fellowship. Fueled by a sense of vulnerability, “security” bars may shield, but they also imprison.
I was blessed to call John Beadle “friend” and have him hold me in like regard. From countless encounters, JB knew how much we prized his intelligence and his determination to preserve his self-constructed identity, thought life and ethos in his relations as well as in his multifaceted artistic output. The most deeply treasured aspect of our relationship was the long sessions of “reasonings” at the hot, artistic abandonment that was his warehouse studio in Oakes Field. How Neko and I will miss them! Will we ever find another with whom to revel in discussing proxemics?
I’m glad that I have never allowed preciosity to restrain my expressions of love. I told JB often over the years how dear he and his dedicated wife Shelly were to us. The medium that receives John Beadle’s relinquished earthly housing will be blessed by that precious gift. Our friendship has only turned a new page in the book of eternity. His works will stand in for him for the present. As the universe is a testament to changing states, divine economy and renewal, John will live again in continuing evolutions. He will add his brilliance joyously to ever new orchestrations of art and undimmed light and life.
John Beadle and I attended S.C. McPherson junior, A.F. Adderley Senior High and then The College of The Bahamas. At A.F. Adderley we were not friends but knew of each other and our talents. John Beadle and Jolyon Smith were my competition at A.F. Adderley but we had different Art teachers. They had the late Sandra Illingworth at the front end of the campus and I had Mrs. Johnson as my Art teacher located in the center of the main building.
I was a year older than John and Jolyon but our paths crossed once again at FINCO’s Summer Art Workshop where we met noted educator Stanley Burnside, Artist Eddie Minnis and ceramics Dennis Knight. I was the shy one and was the one who made sure everyone fit in and knew each other. The workshop was being held at two locations; Soldier Road campus and the main College of the Bahamas in Oakes field. There were days that we would spend half at one location and the late half at the other, I drove my father’s car which was a beat up old English car and so John decided that we all roll with Clive; Jolyon Smith, David Earnest, Sabrina Glinton and John. This commute arrangement is what frosted and cemented the relationship between us.
The summer ended and the FINCO Art Workshop staged an Art show to display works that we created Mr. Stanley Burnside and Dennis Knight who were also lecturers at The College of The Bahamas was developing a Continuing Ed Arts program and John, Jolyon, David and I were invited to be apart of that program. The program included basic Math and English Language classes and the rest was studio time. John was always good and enjoyed Math and did exceptional well. However during that time we were introduce to a place called Britley’s a restaurant and bar across from the campus of the college. It was at Britley’s we fell in love with the game of pool. The restaurant had a pool table located in a back room. The love for the game drove us across the street and many times ducking classes as the games got so competitive. Another second love came from being exposed to the game of Table tennis that was located
right on the college campus in a little room down stairs from where our math classes were and this meant that many times Mr. Morris our math teacher would have to come down and collect us.
After all of the games, Math and English classes many long hours was spent in the Art room; our studio and home. In the Art room each person had a space and there was a general area in the middle of the room. There was music, food, fun, friends and females in the space at any given time but the work never stopped for any one person. The Art room was located across the college’s library which created an
interesting view for student going upstairs because they could look right across and see the Artistic activity going on. The Art room did not have an open-door policy however, only the invited and those brave enough to face these “crazy” Art students would enter. Hardly any of the College’s teachers would come to the studio but there was one who we consider a friend and that was Dr. Keva Bethel; President of the college. There was this occasion the college had some international guest, the president was giving them a tour of the campus and facilities and being a friend of ours they came uninvited and without
notice into the studio space. As the president and international guest entered the first cubicle there on the wall for the whole world to see was a very large multi unfolded center-fold of a lady in her birthday suit displaying all that she was blessed with. Dr. Bethel Looked at the photograph and looked at the guest and said, these are my boys. From that day onwards Dr. Bethel was our girl and John and I always say that some of the ideas to upgrade The College of The Bahamas to University came from how we; The Art Boys carried on as we did our thing and did it our way with the direction of Mr. Stanley Burnside AKA Mr. B.
While at The College of The Bahamas we formed a watch group to oversee the safety of the campus called the Jons Club. The Art room was used as the bird’s nest overlooking the grounds with the aid of a telescope we observe and monitor the movement of persons on the grounds. As we got more committed to creating painting, we retired the Jons Club and John and I formed OPUS -5 an Artist group. We settled with that name after consulting with Dennis Knight. The original members of OPUS-5 are John Beadle, Clive Stuart, Sabrina Glinton, David Ernest and Dash Burns. Jolyon Smith was at RISD doing the summer transfer program, Dionne Benjamin and Eric Ellis was joined years later. John was always the leader and wanting more as it relates to the Arts and his craft and so after a year of doing his thing, he decided to take his talents to RISD; Rhodes Island School of Design. John transferred to RISD and took part in the transfer program which is six weeks of the summer and was
followed by Jolyon who also transfer to RISD. David Ernest and I was still at The College of The Bahamas working along side Dionne Benjamin and Dash Burns. While at RISD John and someone did a record in John’s dorm room relaying the life at RISD, the new music that we were introduce to and the many new friends as well as some crazy students enrolled. Hearing how much fun those guys was having I had to make my way there and so I followed those guys to RISD as a freshman.
After life at RISD John did a course in Italy which was apart of RISD and to be selected to that program one must complete and pass a course in Italian. This made John very serious because he was so horrible in that language. I remembered him coming to my dorm room to borrow a pretty red cassette player I bought in Nassau. He wanted the player to assist the lecturer of the class and he believed that if it was not for that cassette player and his determination of course he would not have passed that class.
John returned home to The Bahamas and right a way set up a little studio in the back of his parent’s house in Golden Gate subdivision and out grew that and moved across the street in an un-finish apartment owned by Keith’s parents. It was from that space John began working on a set of oil painting and experimenting using medals in his work. To make ends meet John would take on side jobs and I remember a side job he did for the Late Jackson Burnside, the younger brother of Stanley Burnside. John was commissioned to do a set of posters with tea cups and I believed this
was the beginning of the relationship between these men.
John joined the staff of The College of The Bahamas but that drive took him to pursue his Masters degree at Tyler university and came back to The Bahamas and took over the local art community at all levels and also returned to Junkanoo but not as artist that just place marked out designs but as a major builder with the One Family Junkanoo and Community group. Using his studio space as a junkanoo shack and a meeting place for close friends to have Friday night discussions. From those Friday night discussions John and I decided to recreate the atmosphere that we enjoyed as students at The College of The Bahamas and so we came up with a nude drawing session and formed DA ART ROOM EXPERIENCE. The sessions were held every Wednesday 6pm to 9pm at John’s studio on HorseShoe drive. I can still remember passing by John studio as I usually do but this time, I came back to get a little grill that John repaired and he was complaining about a pain he had in his stomach and I suggested that he check a doctor that I went to before.
On April 24, 2023 at 7:21 pm John texted me, “So, I had the consult today the verdict is I have stage 4 stomach cancer. Just getting back from a surgical oncologist, due to see a medical oncologist sometime soon. Just wanted to let you know”.
One year later the sign under my zodiac star took my friend. Sleep in Peace John Alexander Beadle, long live OPUS-5.
Clive Stuart
DEAR JB,
WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?
Your passing has left me in a daze, a kind of emotional and psychological paralysis. I don’t know what to say or what to do. So I do the best thing I know how; I busy myself and I try to be as helpful to Shelley as possible.
Speaking about your death seems so unproductive and empty…..I need it to be more. Sure, I entertain conversations with others I meet daily, those who know that you and I go way back. They express how great a person you were, and how sad it is that you have passed. I absolutely agree with them all. You were truly an amazing person in so many ways. The Bahamas and the world has lost a great son.
But in those instances, I yearn to express so much more than the customary sentiments. I desire to articulate the depth of my feelings for you, how valuable you are to me and how significant it is that you existed in my life….but I can’t seem to find the words. My mouth won’t open; there’s a knot in my throat and my tongue is weighty. Is it grief manifesting as a form of lock-jaw? Although the words are honoring you, the exchanges are less than what I’d wish them to be.
I comfort myself with the thought, “not everyone needs to know how much you mean to me”. Nor does anyone have to be convinced by me of how masterful you were in your craft, and that your name and work undoubtedly deserves to be honored in Bahamian history. Besides, there are those more qualified and articulate than I who can speak to your greatness in that regard. How will I ever be able to make anyone else understand the meaningfulness of the countless experiences and commonalities you and I shared, and the fulfillment and joy they brought me?
By fate, our lives ran parallel to each other from young.
• From our high school days, where we began to discover the depths of our giftings and became immersed into the
world of ALL. THINGS. ART.
• To our shared love and cherishing of the one who first believed in our potential – our high school art teacher and cheerleader, Ms Sandra Illingworth;
• To our years at the College of The Bahamas and then the Rhode Island School of Design –– to the freedom and courage we were given there to explore, to the independence and maturity we gained at these sacred spaces; to the fascinating things we learned, the lifelong relationships we forged; to the wisdom and life lessons we received from all our college instructors, beginning with our beloved Stan Burnside;
• To our mutually shared heritage, both of us with powerful ties to Jamaica through our Fathers; to the many trips we took there together; to our boundless love of its culture, landscape and music;
• To our shared love for the UK-based reggae artists, Steel Pulse and Linton Kwezi Johnson; their songs were on constant repeat in every art studio we found ourselves, and we never grew tired of them;
• To the time my dad and I drove you for hours through the Jamaican landscape to connect you with your dad’s family whom you had never met before. And it was at that time I witnessed – for the first time – the vulnerable & gentle side of you, evidenced by tears. John,
• You were easily and happily embraced into our family; you became our brother and my mother & father’s 4th son.
• You shared in our joys and griefs, dined at our table too many times to count; always laughing ourselves senseless…
• My mother–-our mother––still reminds me that she was the one that gave you your very first alcoholic drink ( ).
• You were present for the most important events of my life, including standing by me as a groomsman in my wedding and standing with me at the funeral of my father;
• You honored me by naming me a godfather to your precious daughter,
Jonnique Alexandria; and
• You expressed how proud you were of me (and Dionne) when we adopted our daughter, Catherine. This, especially, meant a lot to me.
Like many, I can speak of your magnificent creative genius, impeccable work ethic, and your many impressive achievements. However, I prefer to remember, not only the exceptional artist, but the private person, the breath that was John Alexander Beadle.
I prefer to share our personal passages of time spent together, as friends and brothers. These are the memories of profound significance to me. And they are now all that I have left of you. I know what they mean to me; they are forever secured in the treasure box of my heart. And I am grateful.
My school buddy, my encourager, my biggest critic (Ouch! But, thank you!)
My closest friend, my beloved brother. You were here!
The impact you had on my life will resonate with me for eternity. You made me better. Iron sharpens iron. Death has a way of diminishing the power of an existence, but the significance of you will never be forgotten by me.
May we meet on the Golden Streets. RIP.
Your brother always, Jolyon Smith
John and I first met in 1976, forty-eight years ago, our spirits instantly connected from this first meeting. However, our friendship truly deepened and expanded over the last ten years. We made conscious efforts to meet regularly to discuss every topic under the sun while also enjoying his art.
John was an excellent listener, arguably an unusual but prized characteristic in a man, much less anyone. He was passionate about his points of view. He was astute and considered, virtuoso on all things art, unassuming, a freespirit, a deep-thinker, and most importantly to me, a caring and loyal friend.
John treasured family, friends, fellow artists and all persons connected to him through his artwork. However, his love, passion and commitment to his extraordinary art, ranked second after Shelly, Jonnique, other family members and close friends; but definitely, the rest of us came in third.
As well-regarded artist Stan Burnside so eloquently stated in a caricature of John, “Young John Beadle: The Promise of The Future in Art.” John excelled as an art student, and various forms of art - carver, painter, welder, and other creative expressions. He was the ultimate Junkanoo artist; conceptualizing, designing, building, decorating, and doing anything that would intelligently inform and express our prized Bahamian cultural expression.
John’s legacy is comfortably secured as truly one the most talented Bahamian artists. He excelled in every form of visual art. And he will live on forever through the work he has left behind for us to evaluate, critique, enjoy and learn from.
As extraordinary as John’s work is, his life as an upstanding and excellent human being is what made him a great friend and brother to me.
I will forever cherish my memories of John, which are filled with brotherly love, stimulating conversations, mutual respect and admiration for each other. He definitely made a positive and permanent impact in my life. And for this I’m humbled and grateful.
I miss you my friend.
Farewell, my brother. Rest in eternal peace in God’s Kingdom.
-Dennis Hanna
FRIEND, BROTHER, MENTOR, CONFIDANT
“Boss” was our usual greeting, no matter how it was communicated. Phone Call, Text Message or voice note.
Words aren’t sufficient to express what you meant to me, and my family. John Beadle You were my Friend, My Brother, My Mentor, My Confidant.
If I were to count the numerous attempts to write this tribute, or the numerous conversation I have had with myself talking to you, it would be too many to count. I can say that I truly appreciate our many personal conversations about life, personal pursuits, current events, junkanoo, junkanoo costume concepts, and my woodworking venture, were endless. You were the best listener and conversationalist that I have ever met. For the past weeks I would reflect on your brotherly advise especially when I wasn’t getting it, that would start with “Silbert, look here…” or end with “Silbert…&^%$”, after which I would respond “Yes Sir”. One conversation that I recall, was when I was having challenges with my study, and felt like giving up. After my long explanation as to why, you simply said, “Silbert, stop &@^%$ around and get it done”.
Our times spent, in your studios working on costumes were amazing. The first time I approached you, to learn how to build was while you were in the East Street shack, and your only response to me was “Yeah”, with your usual slanted gaze with your head tilted to the side. Nothing else was said by you. That evening I left all in my feelings, only to learn later that was the John Beadle that I would grow to love and admire. Every Junkanoo season, if I was working on a costume to rush or just hanging out with you up at the studio by “Pa”, you would laugh at me by reminding me of the “tie-wire” (what you later confirmed was Floral Wire) that I bought, as a part of my tools which I thought were an essential part of my kit. Last season, I recalled at the studio (Horse shoe Dr.), showing you and Aisha the same “tie-wire” I still have in my “Tool Kit”. Yes, it’s more that 15 years old believe it or not, and I now use it when I can’t find any hooks for the Christmas tree ornaments.
Your support during my down times were priceless, even the one time that Shelly and Aisha still laugh at today. Yes, you held my hand to make sure that I got home safe. Yes, you would make sure any spider you saw, a picture of it would be sent to me. I can only imagine seeing you laugh at my reaction to opening the picture.
Cat Island trips seemed endless. Shelly and Aisha thought they could dance until they realized that sculling was a John and Silbert thing. Last year’s plan had to be put on hold, because of the uncertainty around your health, but there is no doubt, you will be in our hearts, and we will scull until the sun comes up for you every trip to Cat Island.
Fellowship Friday conversations at the studio with Clive, Dennis, ”Slim”, “Daggie”, “Champ” and Jay, were memorable. Thank you, John Beadle, for allowing me to meet and spend time with you and your friends.
As my Mentor, I would always get excited when you would call/ say that you needed my help with something, no matter what it was. But that help was approached with caution because your demand of doing it right, and meticulous way was critical. Especially when we worked on costumes for Aisha and I. I recalled a conversation about building costumes for the girls, something Sai was looking forward too. This plan was put on hold too, but we were committed to doing it when you got better. Thank you, Shelly, Jonnique, and the Beadle siblings, for sharing John with my family Aisha, Sanaa, Sai and I and allowing us to be apart of John’s life. I will be forever grateful for the times spent.
I appreciate having met you through Aisha, as she reminds me that it was because of her that you became a Friend, Brother, Mentor and Confidant.
“BOSS” I will forever miss you. Silbert Clarke
BROTHERMAN, WE LOVE YOU!
In this time, it is with tears we show love, and tears mark this sheet.
I cry, “Oh Great God of Our Ancestors, grab this one. Embrace him. Lift him high! Ancestors, welcome John with arms wide open.”
Brotherman, we love you (while listening to the music of Pharaoh Saunders, including the Healing Song).
Luminous Brotherman, we love you!
Medasi Pa (Twi – Thank you) for your time you shared with me, as we walked the sacred forests of this island. We sat on regenerating leaves and twigs while canopies of gumelemi, stoppers, and pigeon plum let sun rays and warmth peak in. Oft times, we leaned on trunk barks of lancewood and mastic. You always had to be careful of poison wood. That one would do you the worst! The powers of that world touched us, and we touched it!
John, your words to me a couple weeks ago, as you directed where I was to dig yams in your yard was, “I miss my garden.” We, it, misses you!
With Afrika as my center, as I dig in the deep wells of its grace, of its soul truth songs of heart and beingness, I say, AfriKa would call you a FUNDI – a Nguni word for master, expert in a craft, and all the meaning as Ayi Kwei Armah means in its use.
AfriKa would call you a DIBIA – an Igbo word referring to those special members of our community with elevated talent in the arts of the things of seen and unseen and, seated in Chukwu.
For, in your works you told deepest stories, filling our senses as you drew us to learn, see, with our mind, eye, heart, and soul eye.
Luminous Brotherman, Simba Simbi (Ki-KongoHold up that which holds you up!)
Simba Simbi – We hold you up.
Simba Simbi – We hold us up.
Simba Simbi – We hold up Shelly and Jonnique.
Simba Simbi – We hold up long life, good health, and all strength.
Brotherman, Akpé, Akpé, Akpé (Ewe -Thank you very much!)
Alaaaaaaafia (Ewe - Soul deepest blessings of gratitude)!
Thomas Mtumwa Cleare
WHEN GREAT TREES FALL MAYA ANGELOU
When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety. When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear. When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe, briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken. Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us.
Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened. Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away. We are not so much maddened as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves.
And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.
OUR GRATITUDE
We the family of John A. Beadle would like to extend our appreciation to all who have reached out to share prayers, condolences, love and support throughout this journey. Your kind thoughts during this time has been a source of strength for our family. We are deeply grateful for the love and compassion shown to us during this difficult time. May God continue to richly Bless you.
Wooden Urn by: Robin Hardy
Funeral services provided by:
Robinson Road and First Street
Telephone: 325-5268/393-1352/328-1944
P.O.Box N-603
Nassau, Bahamas
Tel: 394-BOOK (2665)
Mobile: (242) 818-3478
SCAN HERE
