Category: Sculpture Page 6 of 36

Special Dragon edition!

On 11th July 2024

This week’s blog was prompted by a gift we received – a wonderfully crafted baby dragon from Little Dragon Designs . He’s very small, only just over three inches wide, but very meticulously detailed …

It reminded me that the City is full of dragons and that it has been a long time since I paid them a visit.

In 1963 the Government was redrawing local government boundaries and the City Corporation had to decide how its area of control should be identified. Rather than someting bland and commonplace (e.g. Welcome to the City – Please Drive Carefully) they looked for something a bit more dramatic.

Their final choice to use dragons was facilitated by the controversial decision to demolish the Coal Exchange in Lower Thames Street. The trade in coal in London was hugely important, not just because it fuelled the city, but thanks to taxes that were introduced after the Great Fire of London, it funded a lot of London building works. The Coal Exchange was built in 1847 to help manage the trade and, high above the main entrance, two plinths held two large cast-iron dragons. Here it is around 1900 …

When the Exchange was demolished, the City of London Streets Committee conceived the idea of preserving the dragons as boundary markers, and they were inaugurated in their new home on Victoria Embankment on 16 October 1963 where they remain to this day …

They were originally cast, by the London founder Dewer, in 1849, as can be seen on the back of the shield …

These original dragons are seven feet tall but half size replicas were created for deployment around 11 other entry points to the City.

Before I go on to share more dragons with you the first thing I must be clear about is that the City symbol is a dragon and not a griffin (as is still mistakenly stated in many City guides).

The legendary griffin (or gryphon) is a creature with the body, tail and back legs of a lion; the head and wings of an eagle; and an eagle’s talons as its front feet. I have only been able to find one in the City and here it is at the entrance to Dunster Court in Mincing Lane …

He proudly supports the arms of the Clothworkers Company.

Dragons, on the other hand, have a barbed tail, tend to be scaly all over and breathe fire and smoke. Here is the City of London version on Tower Hill …

It is made of cast iron and painted in silver with details picked out in red. It supports a shield with the City emblem of the red cross of St George and the short sword of St Paul, the City’s patron saint.

Guarding the boundary between the City of London and Westminster, the Temple Bar Dragon is in a league of its own. It is taller, fiercer, very gothic and is black rather than silver. It would be quite at home in a Harry Potter story and is quite scary – maybe that’s why the Corporation Committee Chairman, having considered the Temple Bar version, chose the less flamboyant Coal Exchange dragons as boundary markers instead …

Another dragon at Temple Bar faces towards Westminster …

A Times writer commented that it ‘wears an aspect of defiance similar to that of the lion surmounting the mound on the field of Waterloo’.

Once you get your eye in, so to speak, you will find dragons everywhere.

This Smithfield Market beast looks like he is just about to swoop down – perhaps for a meaty lunch …

And these two work hard supporting the roof of Leadenhall Market …

One might pop up unexpectedly as you cross Holborn Viaduct …

You encounter this formidable pair as you leave Bank Underground Station …

More delicate versions adorn the lamps outside the Royal Exchange …

The City’s coat of arms atop the Guildhall …

And on the newer building nearby …

The City’s Latin motto : Lord guide us.

A more modern version (also at the Guildhall) …

You will find a fascinating article about the City coat of arms here.

If you are fascinated by dragons, or know someone who is, I highly recommend a visit to the Little Gragon Designs website. A vast selection of dragon-related gifts!

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City sculptures – a random collection.

By The City Gent

On 4th July 2024

In Sculpture

Apart from the special Sculpture in the City events, it has been a while since I have specifically sought out other examples of what’s around so last Saturday’s sunny weather proved an ideal opportunity.

I started at Paternoster Square where I had read that the conservation-led artists Gillie and Marc had a new exhibition. Here’s what I found.

Apparently Rabbitwoman and Dogman usually accompany their work and here they hold up an informative panel about the artists …

Other animals in the exhibition …

Rabbitwoman and Dogman are known to travel around the City on their scooter. Here they are picking up a coffee at Spitalfields Market …

Also in Paternoster Square is a 1975 bronze sculpture by Elisabeth Frink which I particularly like – a ‘naked’ shepherd with a crook in his left hand walks behind a small flock of five sheep …

Dame Elisabeth was, anecdotally, very fond of putting large testicles on her sculptures of both men and animals. In fact, her Catalogue Raisonné informs us that she ‘drew testicles on man and beast better than anyone’ and saw them with ‘a fresh, matter-of-fact delight’. It was reported in 1975, however, that the nude figure had been emasculated ‘to avoid any embarrassment in an ecclesiastical setting’. The sculpture is called, appropriately, Paternoster.

This is The Cordwainer. Here on Watling Street (EC4N 1SR) you are in the Ward of Cordwainer which in medieval times was the centre of shoe-making in the City of London. The finest leather from Cordoba in Spain was used which gave rise to the name of the craftsmen and the Ward. In the background is the wall of St Mary Aldermary church …

Sculpted by Alma Boyes (2002). You can visit her website here.

I love the detail in the work, the craftsman’s face and particularly the hands straining with effort. The statue’s shoes are very beautifully represented too – but then they would have to be.

Easy to miss but worth seeking out is The Building Worker, a bronze statue of a building worker in a pose based on Michelangelo’s David, but in working clothes and wearing a hard hat and carrying a spirit level. He is on Tower Hill EC3 just across the road from the station outside the Tower of London …

The sculptor was Alan Wilson (2006) and it commemorates the ‘thousands of workers who have lost their lives at work … (and) workers who are today building and rebuilding towns and cities across the United Kingdom.’ Wreaths are laid here each year on April 28, International Workers Memorial Day, and a two minute silence is observed at noon in memory of those who have suffered fatal injuries in accidents at work.

The Plumbers’ Hall was compulsorily purchased in 1863 to make way for the expansion of Cannon Street Railway station and this statue on the concourse is a reminder of that connection …

The Plumber’s Apprentice by Mark Jennings (2011).

The inscription reads ‘This statue was erected on the site of its last Livery Hall by The Worshipful Company of Plumbers to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the granting of its Charter by King James I in 1611 and to recognise the support given by the Company to the training of apprentices.’

Now a work that caused a mini-controversy – the Charity Drinking Fountain (also known as La Maternité) by Aimé-Jules Dalou (1877-9).

In his book Public Sculpture of the City of London, Philip Ward-Jackson describes the lady as follows:

Despite her casual garb she has a diadem or tiara on her head. With her left arm she enfolds a baby, who she is suckling, whilst with her right she draws to her knee a naked boy, who gazes up at her.

She can be found outside Royal Exchange Buildings, EC3V 3NL.

Nearby is a very relaxed George Peabody who I have written about in an earlier blog …

Ward-Jackson tells us that the suckling lady’s very authentic exposed breast produced at least one letter of protest to the editor of The Globe. The correspondent urged that ‘common decency’ should be observed and went on …

Do you not think, Sir, that Mr Peabody’s chair should be turned, at least until the delicate operation of ‘lacteal sustenation’ be concluded … or the young woman and youngsters provided with the requisite clothing.

If you visit the sculptures today you will, in fact, find that Mr Peabody no longer gazes at the lady who shocked the Globe corresponsent. Surely his letter wasn’t acted upon? I can find no evidence one way or another.

How about this slightly mysterious figure at 193 Fleet Street …

I always thought that it resembled a rather effeminate youth but it is in fact a woman disguised as a pageboy, her name, Kaled, appears just under her right foot.

It is by Giuseppe Grandi, and dates from 1872. The shop owner, George Attenborough, had a niche created specially for it over the front door. Kaled is the page of Count Lara in Bryon’s poetic story of a nobleman who returns to his ancestral lands to restore justice. He antagonises the neighbouring chieftains who attack and kill him. Kaled stays with his master and lover to the end, when it is revealed he is in fact a woman. She goes mad from grief and dies.

Something a little more conventional now, this 1881 statue of Sir Rowland Hill by Edward Onslow Ford, R. A. (1852-1901). It’s on King Edward Street …

It’s in front of the old General Post Office building. Read more about this fascinating man and his postal reforms here. For example, I didn’t realise that, before 1840, the British postal system was highly complex and very expensive. Letters were charged by distance and the number of sheets of paper they contained. Normally, the charge was paid by the recipient. As a result people often ‘cross-wrote’ their letters to save money. Imagine having to decpher this missive …

I had to include a few examples of Barbican sculpture.

On the Alban Gate highwalk you will encounter two naked writhing dancers. Quite often I have seen people pose for photographs whilst trying to mimic the figures’ movements – they have not found it easy …

The work, called Unity, is by the Croatian Sculptor Ivan Klapez. It was commissioned by the building developers MEPC in 1992 and marked a turning point is his career. I rather like them in silhouette …

If you visit the sculpture you will see that the male figure is … er … unquestionably male. Shortly after its installation the Daily Telegraph’s ‘City Diary’ recorded local speculation as to whether the penis of the male figure had been shortened ‘to spare the blushes of passing matrons’. The sculptor’s agent insisted that no such concessions had been made. I haven’t included an image of the organ concerned (coward!) so you’ll have to visit and make up your own mind.

The Gladiator, by Eli Ilan (1973) just before you reach the library …

Nice to see that he’s being looked after …

And finally, the magnificent Minotaur by Michael Ayrton. After an itinerant life, he now looks rather wonderful in his more recent location in St Alphage Gardens …

… with a slice of the Roman/Medieval city walls behind him to the left …

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More Guildhall Art Gallery favourites.

By The City Gent

On 16th May 2024

In Art, Sculpture

I know, it seems like I’m not wandering far from home lately, but the weather has been so miserable and I needed to get a few blogs ‘in the bank’ before going on holiday. Anyway, that’s my excuse for visiting again somewhere that I really like!

Here come a few of my favourites from the Gallery.

My First Sermon by Sir John Everett Millais Bt PRA (1829-96), exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1863 …

The child is the centre of attention in her red cape, with black trim, and soft furry muff, a bright splash of colour in the dim church, her short legs in their red stockings nicely supported, concentrating as hard and seriously as she can on the sermon. You can guess that it’s probably way over her head.

My Second Sermon …

After the success of My First Sermon Millais painted a companion piece the following year, showing the same little girl – his daughter Effie – in church after the novelty of going has worn off. In his speech at the next Royal Academy Banquet, the Archbishop of Canterbury claimed the picture was a warning against ‘the evil of lengthy sermons and drowsy discourses’. Millais (and his largely middle class audience) were well aware of the gap between ideals and reality, and this witty follow-up to First Sermon reveals a taste for amusing, affectionate imagery that was relatable to many Victorian parents.

The Wounded Cavalier by William Shakespeare Burton (1824-1916) …

There is so much symbolism and mystery about this picture that writing about it would take the enire blog. What is the relationship between the young woman and the austere puritan chap standing in the background? Maybe her brother, she’s not wearing a wedding ring, and surely wouldn’t be wandering the forest unchaperoned? He’s carrying a bible – is there any significance in the visible bookmark? The young cavalier doesn’t look in good shape, is he dying – maybe she’s helping him staunch a wound by his neck? And what’s the significance of the broken sword and the scattered playing cards? Or the butterfly resting on the sword blade? For various theories you can read more here and here.

The Execution of Lady Jane Grey c.1834 by Paul Delaroche (1797-1856) …

Poor Lady Jane, ‘the nine days queen’, fumbles for the block on which she will lose her head (having, incidentally, been tried for high treason at the Guildhall next door to the gallery). To the left are her despairing ladies-in-waiting, one slumped to the ground with Jane’s outer clothing gathered in her lap, the other facing the wall unable to watch. The painting has always been enormously popular ever since it was exhibited at the Paris Salon in 1834. The large original is owned by the National Gallery and this one is a reduced-scale study by the artist.

The Last Evening by James Tissot, (1836-1902), 1873, another painting with an ambiguous meaning …

One interpretation is that the scene shows the final moments of an on-board romance between a first class passenger and a crew member under the disapproving eyes of his captain and her father. More frequently suggested, however, is that the work depicts the night before a young man sets sail on a voyage leaving his sweetheart behind. She looks pretty bored to me! Read more here.

Next up is this picture entitled Garden of Eden by Hugh Goldwin Riviere (1860-1956). Painted in 1901, it depicts a young man and girl walking in a misty, wet park with a horse-drawn cab rank in the background. I like it because to me it’s another one of those pictures that immediately gets you making up a back story to the characters. Surely this is an assignation – a secret lovers meeting, he clasping her hand and she gazing lovingly into his face. Then it struck me: Garden of Eden! A place of dangerous temptation and banishment! …

Apparently some guides point out that this picture is actually about a mismatch between a wealthy woman who has fallen for a man much below her station: note his clumpy shoes, lack of gloves and his rolled up trouser bottoms. Also the way he’s carrying not one but two umbrellas, intertwined like the two lovers. There are tiny raindrops hanging from the black branches. Surely they represent tears to come? Or am I getting completely carried away? Another commentator has said that she is simply a smartly dressed maidservant on her day off, out walking with her beau.

At the far end of the gallery, in a space specially designed for it, you will find at the action-packed painting by John Singleton Copley: Defeat of the Floating Batteries at Gibraltar 1782 …

*The painting is best viewed from the balcony above*

A Spanish attack on Gibraltar was foiled when the Spanish battering ships, also known as floating batteries, were attacked by the British using shot heated up to red hot temperatures (sailors nicknamed them ‘hot potatoes’). Fire spread among the Spanish vessels and, as the battle turned in Britain’s favour, an officer called Roger Curtis set out with gunboats on a brave rescue mission which saved almost 350 people.

Look at the painstaking detail in the faces of the officers and Governor General Augustus Eliot, who is portrayed riding to the edge of the battlements to direct the rescue …

The officers were dispersed after the Gibraltar action and poor Copley had to travel all over Europe to track them down and paint them – a task that took him seven years at considerable expense. He recouped some of his cash in 1791 by exhibiting the picture in a tent in Green Park and charging people a shilling to see it.

There are two paintings of a Lord Mayor’s show near the main gallery entrance. This is 12:18 and 10 seconds (2010) by Carl Laubin …

The other is another of my favourites, William Logsdail’s painting entitled The Ninth of November 1888 …

You can read more about them both in my January 2023 blog.

Also on show is a terrfific sculpture of this thoughtful, gentle man, created by someone who knew him very well personally, Ronald Moody (1900-1984) …

This is Terry-Thomas, a major star in the 1950s and 60s best known for playing disreputable members of the upper classes especially ‘cads’, ‘toffs’ and ‘bounders’ …

The last years of his life were tragic. Following his death, Lionel Jeffries called him ‘the last of the great gentlemen of the cinema’, while the director Michael Winner commented that ‘no matter what your position was in relation to his, as the star he was always terribly nice. He was the kindest man and he enjoyed life so much’.

And finally, don’t forget, one of Gallery’s most popular paintings is back on display. Described by the Pre-Raphaelite artist and poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti as “my very best picture”, ‘La Ghirlandata’ was acquired by the City of London Corporation in 1927 for its permanent art collection and is displayed in the gallery’s main Victorian exhibition space …

The 1873 oil on canvas depicts ‘the garlanded woman’ playing an arpanetta and looking directly at the viewer. The artist’s muse for the central figure was the actor and model, Alexa Wilding, with two ‘angels’ in the top corners posed by William and Jane Morris’ youngest daughter, May Morris.

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