‘The Eighth Hour’ sculpture (1998), by Jonathan Clarke, bought by Graham and Alison Kings in 2000. Photo in St Mary’s Vicarage, Islington, 2001, by Rogan McDonald.

 

Sculpture on a poster

          in a porch in Upper Street:

‘Why show a helicopter

          outside your church?’

 

Sculpture under dome

          of St Paul’s Cathedral:

‘What is it about?

          Angel of the North?’

 

Sculpture in a school

          in Sherborne with students:

‘Is it an eagle,

          landing on a tree?'

 

Have another look,

          another look,

          another look.

 

‘Christ! It’s Jesus –

          in the cross, not on it.’

 

The process of sculpting

          matches action of saving.

A block of polystyrene

          is carved with hot wire.

The mould is buried in sand

          and vapourised by

          liquid aluminium.

Death and Resurrection.

 

Entangled in wood,

Contorted in torso,

Constricted in conflict,

Encroached in agony.

 

Arms are locked in wood,

twisted three times:

          up from the level;

          back from the centre;

          out of line with each other.

 

A gruesome skull

          with eyes and mouth and chin,

emerges from the body,

          as if from Golgotha.

 

Muscular Christ,

          vigorously pulling pillars of evil,

          crashing its power,

          is crushed.

Unlike Samson,

          who killed more people in his death

          than he did in his life,

Jesus saves more people in his death

          than he did in his life.

 

Vanquisher Christ,

          vehemently vanishing sin,

          absorbing its orb,

          is vanquished.

 

In Upper Street, Islington,

‘Oh! Now I get it!

          Jesus in the cross.

You see, I’m a pilot.

Do you know

          what we call the pin

          that holds the blades

          to the body of the helicopter?’

‘No.’

‘The Jesus pin.’

‘Why?’

‘Because, if it breaks

          we all cry “Oh, Jesus!”

 

Inside St Mary’s Church,

we look at Colossians one, seventeen:

‘In Christ, all things hold together.’

 

 

(c) Graham Kings, 31 March 2026, Launde Abbey, the first of seven poems being written on seven of Jonathan Clarke’s sculptures.

(Judges 16:28-30, Luke 23:32-46, Colossians 1.17.)