Category: Sculpture Page 2 of 41

Sculpture at the Guildhall Art Gallery.

On 22nd January 2026

I often visit the Gallery since it is nearby and always cheers me up! When I write about it I usually cover the splendid art on display but today I’m going to concentrate on the sculptures.

Outside there are four monumental busts of men from London’s history …

Carved from Portland stone, the same material as the Gallery itself, the busts depict Samuel Pepys, Oliver Cromwell, William Shakespeare and Christopher Wren at one and a half times life size. They were created by Tim Crawley in 1998, in time for the Guildhall Art Gallery’s opening in 1999.

There is also a full size sculpture of Dick Whittington …

Just as in the legend, he stands on Highgate Hill pondering whether to return to London having heard the bells of St Mary-le-Bow ring out ‘Turn, turn, turn again Whittington, thrice Mayor of London’.

He is, of course, accompanied by his loyal cat …

But if you look at rear of the carving there is a more sinister figure, a rather unpleasant rat ..

Born in 1955, Tim Crawley went to Manchester University, where he studied Art History, specialising in medieval architecture and graduating in 1977. After further studies at the City & Guilds of London Art School and a number of freelance jobs as a stone carver, his career came to a crossroads in the mid 1980s. Presumably concerned that stone carving would not provide a suitable long term career, he secured a place on a teacher training course. However, stone carving had other ideas for him.

He says on his website, “Just before I was due to start [teacher training] the offer came to carve this exquisite little bestial frieze for an Edwardian mansion in Henley.” The work entailed restoration work to Edwardian Gothic stone carvings at a country house called Friar Park. This happened to be the Henley home of George Harrison.

Crawley would not have been able to perform the commission and also take up his place at teacher training college. Unable to resist the offer, he cancelled his place and did the work for the former Beatle in 1986. Among the many things for which the world should be grateful to The Beatles are the stone carvings of Tim Crawley.

One of my favourites inside the building is this head of the actor and comedian Terry Thomas (1911-1990). The sculptor, Ronald Moody (1900-1984), was a personal friend and you can read more about him here.

Terry-Thomas was a distinctive English actor and comedian, best remembered for his flamboyant screen persona, impeccable comic timing, and trademark gap-toothed grin. Born Thomas Terry Hoar Stevens in London in 1911, he reinvented himself as “Terry-Thomas,” complete with hyphen, to project an air of upper-class eccentricity that became central to his appeal.

He rose to prominence in the 1950s, excelling in radio, television, and film. Terry-Thomas often portrayed charmingly arrogant “cads” or pompous authority figures, characters he skewered with wit rather than cruelty. His exaggerated diction, raised eyebrows, and knowing asides made him instantly recognizable and his performances captured the changing social attitudes of postwar Britain, gently mocking class pretensions and establishment figures.

Tragically he died almost destitute having spent most of his money trying unsuccessfully to find a cure for his Parkinson’s Disease.

Thomas in Where Were You When The Lghts Went Out (1968) …

Do take a moment to inspect the David Wynne 1969 sculpture of Prince Charles as he then was …

He just doesn’t look happy, does he? Maybe he wasn’t too keen on the rather spiky modern version of a coronet that he is wearing here at his 1969 Investiture as Prince of Wales. It was designed by a committee chaired by his auntie Princess Margaret’s husband, Antony Armstrong-Jones (later Lord Snowdon). The globe and cross at the top was originally intended to be solid gold but the committee concluded that this would be far too heavy. The solution was to use a gold plated ping-pong ball – which is why I always smile at this portrayal of the Prince preparing for the ceremony (and possibly why he doesn’t appear to have ever worn the item again).

There are fine busts of King Edward VII (1841-1910) and Queen Alexandra (1844-1925) …

Alexandra was a strikingly beautiful woman …

The sculptor was Walter Merrett (c. 1855–1918) who was renowned for his marble busts of prominent figures.

Born Walter Merrett Lack in Bethnal Green, Middlesex (now part of London), Merrett was the son of a cheesemonger and his second wife, Louisa Eleanor Merrett (1828–1886). Active professionally from around 1873 to 1911, Merrett specialized in portraiture, working independently as an “artist sculptor” and exhibiting extensively at major venues.

In addition to King Edward’s, there are a number of other fine beards on display. This is Sir Francis Wyatt Truscott who was Lord Mayor in 1879 …

The sculptor was Charles Bell Birch (1832-1893) who was also reponsible for the fabulous, fearsome dragon that marks original site of Temple Bar. The beast holds in its forepaws a shield showing the cross of St George, part of the City’s coat of arms …

Tucked away at the back of the cloakroom near the Ladies’ loo is another work by Birch …

This is Sir Horace Jones (1819-1887), the architect of Tower Bridge, who was, apparently, as formidable as he looks. You can read more about him and the bridge in my blog Tower Bridge and the Extraordinary Sir Horace Jones.

Upstairs in the Gallery Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) surveys the scene …

The sculptor was Francis John Williamson (1833-1920). His 1887 Jubilee Bust of the Queen was a highly successful commemoration of her Golden Jubilee. Numerous replicas were distributed across the British Empire, showcasing his skill in capturing royal likeness and detailed textures like lace and fabric. It established his status as one of Victoria’s favourite sculptors (this is not on display in the Gallery) …

I really enjoy good political cartoons. In this one of 1892 depicts Williamson’s statue of John Skirrow Wright stepping off its plinth to beat Joseph Chamberlain.

Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1343-1400) ponders a book …

This beautiful bust is by Sir George J Frampton RA (1860-1928) and was completed between 1902 and 1903. Frampton was a leading member of the New Sculpture movement in his early career when he created sculptures with elements of Art Nouveau and Symbolism, often combining various materials such as marble and bronze in a single piece. While his later works were more traditional in style, Frampton had a prolific career in which he created many notable public monuments, including several statues Queen Victoria and later, after World War I, a number of war memorials. These included the Edith Cavell Memorial in London, which, along with the Peter Pan statue in Kensington Gardens are possibly Frampton’s best known works.

Finally, this is the Actor-Manager Sir Henry Irving playing Hamlet …

It’s by Edward Onslow Ford (1852-1901). Much of Ford’s early success came with portrait heads or busts. These were considered extremely refined, showing his subjects at their best and led to him receiving a number of commissions for public monuments and statues, both in Britain and overseas. Ford also produced a number of bronze statuettes of free-standing figures loosely drawn from mythology or of allegorical subjects. These ‘ideal’ figures became characteristic of the New Sculpture movement that developed in Britain from about 1880 and of which Ford was a leading exponent.

These are by no means all the sculptures on display, so I will return to the subject in a later blog.

For those of you who are interested, the Whitecross Street Christmas trees look like becoming a long-term feature …

One of them, on the other side of the road, has even acquired some protection …

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‘The Tides We Share’ at the Barbican Library.

By The City Gent

On 15th January 2026

In Art, Sculpture, Special Exhibitions

The Tides We Share is a dynamic group exhibition presented by the Persephone Collective, a group dedicated to uniting and promoting female artists. This exhibition brings together eight artists from diverse cultural backgrounds whose practices converge around themes of memory, identity, resilience, and transformation.

Rooted in an awareness of our interconnectedness with the natural world, their work also reflects a deep sensitivity to the environment – the cycles of earth, water, and body that shape both personal and collective experience. Through processes that engage organic forms and ecological metaphors, the artists invite viewers to consider how the body and the landscape mirror one another in states of flux, endurance, and renewal.

Through painting, mixed media, photography, installation, and poetry, The Tides We Share creates a powerful interplay between the tactile and the emotional, the personal and the universal. It offers a space where viewers can confront questions about how we frame and reframe our histories, identities, and relationships to the world around us. How do we reconcile the forces of preservation and change? How can we transform pain, memory, and identity into beauty and connection?

Here’s a selection of some of the works on display. I visited feeling fed up on a miserable, cold, wet day and came out smiling!

Abi Ola Swoosh 2 2025 …

Abi Ola At the Back of the House 2025 …

Abi Ola Casually Walking 2025 …

Caroline Lovett Munnin’s Light: A Gospel in the Stars …

Latifa A Echo and Narcissus 2025 …

Latifah A Echo and Narcissus II …

Abi Ola Sway (my favourite) …

Olivia McEwan Constellation 2025 …

Olivia McEwan Baroque Hands 2024 …

Caroline Lovett Gathering The Tide …

Incidentally, on Whitecross Street on 5 January, one poor abandoned Christmas tree …

But by 12 January it had plenty of company …

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Rediscovering the Monument in detail – Part 2, including a terrible slander and a disgraced Lord Mayor.

By The City Gent

On 13th November 2025

In Architecture, Sculpture, Social History

Welcome to my second blog about the Monument – I hope you enjoyed the first instalment.

Let’s get the basic data out of the way first. Built between 1671 and 1677, it’s a fluted Doric column standing 202 feet (61 metres) in height and 202 feet (61 metres) to the west of the spot where the Great Fire started on Pudding Lane. 311 spiral steps lead up to the public viewing platform, where visitors can get great views of London from 160 feet (48.7 metres) above ground. I doubted my fitness to climb it but, should you choose to do so, you will get a certificate as evidence of your intrepid character! If you want to see what the view is like, have a look at this excellent video. Despite all the new buildings that have sprung up after the Second World War the views from the Monument are still fantastic so highly recommended.

Here are a few images from the London Home Girl website to also whet your appetite …

A panorama posted in Wikipedia …

Bear in mind, though, the climb will be formidable if you’re not reasonably fit …

Let’s deal now with the ‘secret’ chamber beneath the column.

Robert Hooke and Christopher Wren, who collaborated to design the Monument, were serious scientists who saw the column as a fantastic opportunity to advance celestial knowledge and the intention was to install within it a Zenith Telescope. When the two hinged semi-circular iron doors at the top were opened, someone in the underground observation chamber at the base of the column could measure with a micrometer eyepiece the changes in position of an overhead star throughout the year. Hooke chose Gamma Draconis as his overhead star, but Gamma Draconis, while very bright, is also very far away: 900 million miles away in fact. Hooke was trying to measure a very small difference in position.

The initiative failed for a mundane reason – Fish Street Hill was the main roadway entrance to the phenominally busy London Bridge, the only bridge across the Thames in London until 1750. The vibrations from the traffic upset the delicate instrumentation needed for a Zenith telescope and the idea was abanoned. The busy approach to the bridge in the mid-18th century …

If you do reach the top remember, as you descend, that you are literally walking in Hooke’s footsteps when he conducted an experiment to see how atmospheric pressure varied between the top of the building and the bottom. This is why each step is exactly six inches deep.

The chamber below is not open to the public but you can read about a visit to both it and the space directly beneath the golden urn by the Londonist blogger here. Looking down the stairs to the laboratory …

Looking down from the urn at the top …

It was also visited by Professor Lisa Jardine and you can read her fascinating views on the subject if you Google The Medlicott Medal Lecture 2006. One image from her lecture is the view looking upwards from Hooke’s basement location …

Trivia fact: The Monument actually has 345 steps rather than 311 if you include the steps up from the laboratory.

In last week’s blog I dealt with the inscription on the west side of the building, time now to look at the other three sides.

The north side inscription is famous for the fact that a final sentence has obviously been erased …

In 1679, stories of a Popish plot caused panic in response to allegations of a Jesuit conspiracy to murder Charles II, restore the Roman Catholic faith as the state religion of England and establish a French-backed tyranny under the King’s brother James, Duke of York, whose Catholic and autocratic sympathies were well known. At the source of this totally untrue story was the rather unpleasant character Titus Oates …

You can read more about him here in an excellent article from History Today magazine. Wikipedia gives a much fuller description of his life and escapades here. You can just imagine the chaos he could probably cause today if he had access to social media.

In the anti-Catholic frenzy that followed the plot’s revelation, the Court of Common Council (the primary decision-making assembly for the City of London Corporation) decided to act. The City Comptroller, Joseph Lane, was ordered to emend the inscription so as to place the blame for the Great Fire firmly on the shoulders of Catholics. Accordingly, the following words were tacked on to the end of the north side inscription: SED FVROR PAPISTICVS, QVITAM DIRA PATRAVIT NONDVM RESTINGVITVR

Translated it reads: BUT THE PAPAL MADNESS THAT HAS ACCOMPLISHED SO MANY ABOMINATIONS IS NOT YET SNUFFED OUT.

Inserted in 1681, these additions were erased when the Catholic James II came to the throne in 1685, and then carved on again at the accession of William and Mary in 1689, only to be finally removed in 1831 following Catholic Emancipation. As Philip Ward-Jackson writes: ‘For a good part of a century and a half, the Monument was thus denatured and turned into a sectarian provovation’. This was certainly how the Catholic Alexander Pope saw it, writing in 1733, in his Epistle to Bathurst:

“Where London’s column, pointing at the skies,
Like a tall bully, lifts its head, and lyes.”

The scraped out section (pigeons seem to find this part of the building really attractive to roost in) …

Here is a translation of the Latin inscription you see today:

In the year of Christ 1666, on the 2nd September, at a distance eastward from this place of 202 feet, which is the height of this column, a fire broke out in the dead of night, which, the wind blowing devoured even distant buildings, and rushed devastating through every quarter with astonishing swiftness and noise. It consumed 89 churches, gates, the Guildhall, public edifices, hospitals, schools, libraries, a great number of blocks of buildings, 13,200 houses, 400 streets. Of the 26 wards, it utterly destroyed 15, and left 8 mutilated and half-burnt. The ashes of the City, covering as many as 436 acres, extended on one side from the Tower along the bank of the Thames to the church of the Templars, on the other side from the north-east along the walls to the head of Fleet-ditch. Merciless to the wealth and estates of the citizens, it was harmless to their lives, so as throughout to remind us of the final destruction of the world by fire. The havoc was swift. A little space of time saw the same city most prosperous and no longer in being. On the third day, when it had now altogether vanquished all human counsel and resource, at the bidding, as we may well believe of heaven, the fatal fire stayed its course and everywhere died out.

The south panel is a detailed paen to Charles II, ‘Son of Charles the Martyr’, and all the work he supervised to bring the City safely back to life …

Translation: Charles the Second, son of Charles the Martyr, King of Great Britain, France and Ireland, defender of the faith, a most gracious prince, commiserating the deplorable state of things, whilst the ruins were yet smoking provided for the comfort of his citizens, and the ornament of his city; remitted their taxes, and referred the petitions of the magistrates and inhabitants of London to the Parliament; who immediately passed an Act, that public works should be restored to greater beauty, with public money, to be raised by an imposition on coals; that churches, and the cathedral of St. Paul’s, should be rebuilt from their foundations, with all magnificence; that the bridges, gates, and prisons should be new made, the sewers cleansed, the streets made straight and regular, such as were steep levelled and those too narrow made wider, markets and shambles removed to separate places. They also enacted, that every house should be built with party-walls, and all raised of an equal height in front, and that all house walls should be strengthened with stone or brick; and that no man should delay building beyond the space of seven years. Furthermore, he procured an Act to settle beforehand the suits which should arise respecting boundaries, he also established an annual service of intercession, and caused this column to be erected as a perpetual memorial to posterity. Haste is seen everywhere, London rises again, whether with greater speed or greater magnificence is doubtful, three short years complete that which was considered the work of an age.

The East Panel is formulaic in style, providing a list of names of London mayors that oversaw the building of the pillar, from the beginning to the end. The surnames of the mayors are the only words not Latinised: rather, they are in English …

But what of the man who was Lord Mayor at the time the Great Fire broke out? Sir Thomas Bludworth was unlucky enough to be in that position and gained immortality because of one particularly unfortunate phrase.

The fire began in the King’s Baker’s house on Pudding Lane. Rather than making fresh loaves for the King, baker Thomas Farynor produced the dry and bland biscuits called ‘hard tack’ that filled the bellies of sailors in the Royal Navy. In the early hours of Sunday 2 September 1666, the Farynor family woke to smoke coming from the bakery on the ground floor of their house. They escaped out of the upper floor window although their maid, too frightened to leave, perished. The long hot summer and the strong wind allowed the fire to spread rapidly.

Sir Thomas Bludworth was called. Afraid to order the pulling down of houses to make firebreaks, he ensured his place in the history books by exclaiming that the fire was so weak a ‘woman could piss it out’. He then returned to bed.

Samuel Pepys, returning from a meeting with King Charles, later encountered the Mayor in the street and reported:

At last met my lord mayor in Cannon Street, like a man spent, with a handkerchief about his neck. To the King’s message, he cried, like a fainting woman, ‘Lord, what can I do? I am spent: people will not obey me. I have been pulling down houses, but the fire overtakes us faster than we can do it’

Many believed poor Bludworth was a scapegoat and very unfairly criticised. You can read more about him, and his earlier and later, life here.

For a lively re-telling of the Great Fire story have a look at the excellent Royal Museums Greenwich website.

I’ve really enjoyed reading and researching the story of the Monument and hope you have enjoyed the two blogs that I have published as a result. Maybe one day I’ll feel fit enough to climb to the top as I last did with my Dad when I was 15!

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