Every so often, a commission arrives that feels like more than simply carving wood. It becomes a conversation across centuries. My recent work creating a 4’ statue of St James for St James Garlickhythe was exactly that.
The church itself is extraordinary. Tucked away in the City of London, with its long history stretching back to the Saxon period. The Church was lost in the Great Fire and then rebuilt by Christopher Wren. It is probably one of the best preservations of a Wren church, both interior and exterior, to exist. It carries layers of craftsmanship, devotion, and memory within its walls.
What made this project particularly meaningful to me was the story of how it began.
Ellis Pike, the Church historian, Beadle and Verger, had been researching the original St James statue which once stood atop a distinctive clock outside the Church centuries ago.
“As the Verger and Beadle of the Church, I am the custodian of the Beadle’s staff, an 18th-century 6ft timber staff topped with a small silver figure of St James wearing pilgrim garb. Through my work as historian, I was, of course, aware of the clock and accompanying statue as a distinguishing symbol of the church of St James Garlickhythe for some time. I had even spent time looking at original etchings of the statue, produced in the 18th Century,” comments Ellis.
During the second world war, the buildings opposite the church burnt down, taking the clock and statue with the fire. It was not until the 1980s that they were both replaced.
“The replacement statue was made of laminated wood and the carvers had been loose with their interpretation of the figure of St James. Over the years, the wood itself began to separate and bits to fall off. As the clock and statue were located above the main entrance to the church, this was not ideal,” Ellis continues.
The team at the Church had many discussions as to whether the statue should be repaired or replaced and during this time, Ellis suddenly realised that the silver statue atop the Beadle’s staff reminded him of the etchings he had found of St James, so they finally knew exactly what St James’ statue should look like. It was agreed that the current, splintering statue was not representative of the original statue at all.
A much appreciated parishioner and benefactor of the church offered to pay for the new statue, and the Church team could not have been more delighted.
More discussions ensued with architects and the diocese and eventually, traditional carvers were sought and each asked to create a maquette (a small preliminary model), based on the figure atop the Beadle’s staff, to determine which carver would be best suited to the project. None were considered to be quite right.
During this time, Ellis had spent time on research and discovered my website. Although I do not use traditional carving equipment and rather, more modern chainsaws, Ellis appreciated how sympathetic I was to the timber and actually, found that this was more typical of the original carvers from the 18th century.
In the process, he wasn’t simply looking for somebody capable of carving wood. He was searching for someone who understood the relationship traditional carvers had with timber itself. Someone who would approach the work in the same spirit as the original maker who created the first St James statue back in the 18th century.
Somehow, through that search, he found me.
That was deeply humbling.
As artists, we all inherit traditions whether we realise it or not. My tools may include chainsaws, power carving equipment, and modern techniques, but the heart of the work remains ancient. Timber still dictates the conversation. Grain direction matters. Movement matters. Knots and imperfections matter. The wood always has its own voice.
That connection between craftsman and material is something the old master carvers understood instinctively. They weren’t forcing wood into shape; they were working with it. In many ways, that philosophy sits at the centre of everything I do.
From the very beginning, I knew this sculpture needed to feel timeless rather than “new”. I spent a long time studying the Church, its architecture, and the surviving references to St James himself. There is a dignity and quiet strength to sacred art that can easily be lost if a piece becomes overworked or overly polished.
I wanted this statue to feel as though it belonged.
The timber itself became an important part of the process. One of the things I love most about carving is that no two pieces of wood are ever the same. Timber carries history within it – seasons, weather, growth, age. As I worked, I tried to preserve that sense of life within the sculpture rather than erase it. The natural flow of the grain helped shape the movement of the robes and the character of the figure.
“Simon’s approach to wood is more traditional than the laminated version we had at St James’ from the 1980s,” says Ellis.
“He lets the wood dictate the form and his enthusiasm for the project shone through from the first meeting. He impressed everyone with his positivity and his maquette, which remains standing inside the Church, is a much admired object. The finished clock statue stood under the pulpit for several months in order to acclimatise, and was a real talking point whilst it remained at ground level!” Ellis continues.
That relationship with wood is difficult to explain unless you’ve experienced it. A skilled traditional carver learns to read timber almost like a language. Sometimes the material allows bold cuts and dramatic movement. Other times it asks for restraint. The best carving happens when you listen carefully enough to know the difference.
Throughout the project, I kept thinking about the original sculptor who created the first St James centuries ago. We’ll never meet, of course, but in a strange way this commission felt collaborative. Across the years, through the same material, using many of the same instincts, there was a shared understanding of what sacred carving can be.
That’s one of the things I love most about sculpture. Long after we’re gone, the work continues speaking for us.
“The new St James statue was installed in January this year but, at the same time, it was discovered that the clock itself needed some repair so that it would be in keeping with the beautiful statue above – and so the scaffolding stayed in situ until early May. Now it can be revealed in all its glory!” Ellis says.
“St James returning to his rightful place is perfect. He looks just right and in keeping with the original etchings from 200-300 years ago – and what a difference he makes! St James and the clock symbolise our Church here in Garlickhythe and our plans for the future will ensure they remain iconic going forwards. We cannot praise Simon enough for his work on our project. Everything he does is so beautiful and we appreciated his understanding of the importance to us of getting St James’ statue just right.” Ellis concludes.
To me, creating the new St James wasn’t simply about replacing a worn figure. It was about continuing a tradition of craftsmanship, storytelling, and faith that has existed within the church for generations.
And personally, it was a reminder of why I fell in love with carving in the first place.
Not because wood is easy to shape.
But because it’s alive.