Simon Verity poses by the Portal of Paradise in an undated photo. Photo by Martha Cooper
The passing of Simon Verity at Carmarthenshire, Wales, the man responsible for the 31 figures at the Portal of Paradise at the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine in the city of New York, causes us to reflect on the creativity and the passion for stone of this British sculptor.
The best stonecutters come from uncomplicated rural stock. A stone is as much part of the life of the earth as farming. Geometry, the measure of the earth, is the core of their work. Squaring a block, making it true, each step measured and with no shortcuts gives a logic to the turn of the mind. It is no surprise to me that Socrates was a stonecutter, because they’re a breed apart, independent and truculent.
– Simon Verity
Simon Verity looks out towards Amsterdam Avenue while leaning on the major figure of Moses on the south side of the Portal of Paradise, 9/29/1995.The head of Moses was carved by Dennis Reed, one of the Stoneyard Institute’s stone carvers. Photo by Martha Cooper
The son of architect and artist parents, after schooling he apprenticed for six years to his great uncle Oliver Hill, an architect, landscape architect and garden designer. Simon also studied with conservationists at Wells Cathedral. Eric Gill the English sculptor, letter cutter and typeface designer heavily influenced his work. Simon became an expert stone carver and a superb self taught letter cutter. His love of Medieval grottoes came from restoration work he conducted in the mid 80’s and he constructed multiple new grottoes for clients. His sculptural carvings on English cathedrals and churches were extensive.
The Cathedral Competition
In the late 1980’s, Dean James Morton created a limited international competition to find a sculptor to organize a team of carvers to create and install the figures for the “Preachers’ Portal” on the porch of the southwest tower. The task involved carving the eight figures in a workshop, then setting up the sculptures in the empty spaces on the porch. The tower is known as St. Paul’s Tower. It was under construction and the focus of the Stoneyard Institute. Sir Hugh Casson of the Royal Academy produced a short list of sculptors including Simon Verity. In April of 1988 Simon visited the site.
To everyone’s surprise, Simon told the Dean that he would instead carve the figures at the central portal. This made the project immensely more visible. Stones had been set at the portal in the late 1930’s according to Ralph Adams Cram’s 1925 design for the west front. There were a total of 12 stones, including pedestals for the major rank of figures and 12 stones for the upper rank. These stones would have to be carved in situ. The designated figures from the Old and New Testament were specified in the original 1925 plan. According to Dean Morton “it was all male and unimaginative” so he assembled a group of religious theologians, including a rabbi, to come up with the appropriate list. For the 24 stones that existed, the list contained 31 names. Verity would need to carve two figures out of seven of the stones.
The Cathedral’s Own Carvers Added
Verity was joined on the project by six carvers from the Cathedral’s Stoneyard Institute. They were: Jessica Aujero Lowrie, Amy Brier, Gabriele Hitl-Cohen, D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon, Joseph Kincannon and Dennis Reed. These carvers worked primarily on the ornate pedestals.
Master Sculptor Simon Verity prepares a chalk sketch on a pedestal. Carvers Angel Escobar, Jessica Aujero, Joseph Kincannon, standing, and Dennis Reed start work on the pedestals. April 19, 1989. Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
These bases complement the figure’s story or explain their teaching. Simon considered Dennis Reed’s “visitation” pedestal the best of them. He wrote “Alan Bird who I had known in Wells introduced me to the carvers. I was impressed and awed by their stories. We started on the bases, or socles, to the large statures. The young carvers were to do drawings to relate to the prophets above, to be interesting and to respect the architecture. Some of those little carvings truly reflect the passion of the carvers and through them to passers by.”
With Love and Respect
Several people on that project and others with the Cathedral have reflected on the time when Simon was carving and its lasting impact:
Assuming similar positions, Master Sculptor Simon Verity and Amy Brier work on pedestal bases on the north side of the Portal of Paradise in July, 1989. Simon is carving the birth of Abraham from a seed pod with a spiral representing Abraham climbing the hill to sacrifice Isaac. The chain links carved by Amy represent bondage and the Israelites escape from Egypt. Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
“Simon was a free-thinking and innovative man. Working on the West Front, Simon encouraged us to create our own imagery by exploring the stories of biblical figures to be carved. He fostered a space that allowed for our interpretations and comparisons, biblical times and current states of affairs to be expressed by directly carving into the large blocks of stone.”
Gabriele Hitl-Cohen – Stone Carver on the Portal of Paradise
Simon Verity arranges folds on fabric worn by Gabriele Hitl-Cohen on Oct. 20, 1988 prior to preparing sketches for carving the Portal of Paradise. Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
“When Simon started the eight-foot major figure of Elijah – the first one he carved – I spent time with him on the rickety scaffold he set up. I was totally in awe of his carving, relentlessly chipping away and shaping the block. I felt that he was a modern-day Michelangelo. He barely stopped hammering away at the stone – he could see what was in the block and how he wanted that figure to emerge.”
Robert F. Rodriguez – Photojournalist who documented the stone work on the Cathedral for more than decade.
Simon Verity uses a thin chisel to work on the mouth of the figure of Melchizedek, a jamb figure on the north side of the Portal of Paradise, in October, 1988. Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
“I first came to visit my father in New York back in 1989 when I was 13; I would return each year and watch it progress as well as the team he’d built to work on it. The thing I loved the most were the elements of his life that he immortalised in stone. He had local people and friends pose for the carvings, such as one of the three foot figures Esther, 3rd from the right at the top standing with a dog modelled by Jessica his great friend’s niece. Her dog was called Cooper so it sits with a camera around its neck as a nod to another friend of his, Martha Cooper, who has lead an amazing life photographing graffiti in the city since the 70’s.
Johno Verity pays a visit to his father, Simon Verity, and Jean-Claude Marchionni while they are working on upper rank figure of Daniel on Aug. 23, 1995. Photo by Martha Cooper
One piece that particularly amused the young me was the addition of a person I’ll spare the name of that made his life difficult at the time who will spend eternity kissing his butt. It’s only small so I’ll leave discovering this up to the more dedicated. This is an example of his sense of humour.
This was a project that took thirteen years start to finish; his opinions of it changed from the start of the job to the end but he managed to keep a consistency to the composition of the entire piece.“
Johno Verity, Simon Verity’s son
“I’m still not sure if a firm decision was ever made as to who would lead the Portal project but somehow scaffolding was beginning to be erected. As we watched and waited and continued on our regular carving work, Simon kept busy. He was constantly drawing. He would sit anywhere, even on the ground, doing preliminary sketches. I hope a book comes out of his sketches. On the northern steps, by the portal, we sat with smaller pieces of limestone, maybe a foot, eighteen inches. He guided us to draw a draped figure. He taught us how to think of drapery and how it falls naturally. Since the portal figures are larger than life, drapery would be very important.
From left, Jessica Aujero, Simon Verity and Joseph Kincannon are immersed in sketches for their upcoming figure carvings on Oct. 3, 1988.The stone carving team prepared sketches in preparation for carving the Portal of Paradise. Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
Simon also had us use slate or limestone and taught us one of his specialties, lettering. He explained to me how to hold my flat chisel to create the perfect serif. Aha! That’s actually where serifs came from – carvings of the ancient world – Greeks, Romans. He showed us photos and spoke wistfully of his gilded lettering at the Victoria and Albert Museum. He was so in love at the time that the letters literally burst into flames, so the letters grew flourishes of flames. Do you know how risky that was as an artist, carving directly on the wall of a major institution. But it came out stunning and so unique.“
Lettering by Simon Verity at the Victoria and Albert Museum. Image – tristan forward
Jessica Aujero Lowrie – Stone Carver on the Portal of Paradise
“The weather was cool, and we stood before the central portal staring at the looming statue blocks. This was a big moment as Simon was about to embark on the biggest carving project of his career. I’m not sure of the sanctioned starting date, but that was of little concern to him. He was more determined to learn about the quality of the twelve limestone blocks that rested on their pedestals, undisturbed, for all of sixty years. His head was already in the stone. As we stood there it was obvious that he was ready to swing into action which prompted me to ask if it might be a good idea to set up scaffolding before starting any work. The suggestion fell on deaf ears. Undeterred, he led me to the maintenance department where we shouldered two ladders back to the front portal. Without hesitation, he plunked one against a statue block. With hammer and punch in hand, he scrambled up and without ceremony, started whaling on the stone. The chips rained down, and so I joined in. Incidentally, there was about half an inch of hard crust on the surface, but underneath, the stone was as pure and clean as the day it was quarried. It may have seemed a little hasty to start carving on such a prestigious landmark in such a way, but Simon was well aware that many layers of stone would fall before anything resembling statues could emerge. The work was heavy-handed, but we were literally scratching the surface.
Our first step was to punch large rectangular blocks into cylinders. To many, “roughing out” the stone might be considered mindless grunt work, but Simon embraced this stage of the carving. The canvas of bumps, pits and shattered peaks served up a range of images that might later become part of the finished sculpture. The stone fed the imagination. Simon said this was when he did his best thinking. I think it fair to say that Simon was a bit of a purist. I can’t recall him ever using a pneumatic, nor any power tools for that matter. In fact, even his chisels were pretty pitiful. You could have put a railroad spike in his hand, and he would have made it work. In those early days, we were both pretty scruffy and must have looked like vandals to a growing number of concerned onlookers. Eventually, many worthy carvers would join forces with Simon on this project. I can’t help but smile when thinking that this is how the Portal of Paradise project all began.“
The figure of St. John the Divine seems to supervise scoring of the stone jambs with Joseph Kincannon and Amy Brier, top, and Dennis Reid and Gabriele Hitl-Cohen on the lower platform on Sept. 14, 1988. Work began on carving the great Central Portal of the Cathedral’s West Front – the Portal of Paradise by rounding out the 12 oblong blocks flanking the bronze doors. Photo by. Robert F. Rodriguez
Another Simon Memory…
“When I started the miniature city statue base under the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah on the west front, I was more than a little apprehensive. Aside from a few practice pieces, this would be my first direct carving on a real job, meaning to let images from the rough stone evolve the overall composition and without the aid of drawings or models.
Simon, in his usual composed manner, suggested that I use the crystal forms reminiscent of a grotto project we had recently worked on in Texas. He was adamant that the carving be faithful to the subject matter. The carving had to represent the destruction and rebuilding of Jerusalem in support of the statue narrative above. That was the extent of his direction.
Joseph Kincannon carves what turns out to be a prophetic vision – the destruction of the World Trade Towers – on the Portal of Paradise seen on Sept. 3 1989. Following the Renaissance tradition of placing biblical scenes in contemporary settings this carving on the Portal of Paradise has become iconic since the Sept. 11 attacks. Also emerging below are Gothic arches, representing the rebuilding of the “cathedral,” a symbol of hope after chaos. Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
I wanted more instruction, but he was eager that it be my own interpretation. He insisted that the carving would have more meaning, and be more impactful, if I shunned the practice of taking measurements off of a drawing. He cautioned me to avoid becoming more of a technician than a carver. This was a pretty abstract notion for a carver who had only apprenticed in a structured environment.
When not carving, Simon spent a great amount of time drawing, and making small maquettes, or studies. To my recollection, they never made their way onto the scaffold. He seemed to prefer facing the stone head on without any clutter. In this way, he shined a light on a whole new pathway to carving stone that I still make use of to this day.“
Joseph Kincannon – Stone Carver on the Portal of Paradise
Jean-Claude Marchionni, a talented French carver, joined Simon in 1993. Jean-Claude’s rigorous training had been as a member of the Compagnons Du Devoir and he and Simon became a great team. Different than previous sculptural carvers in the Cathedral’s history, Verity and Marchionni employed direct carving. There were no plaster models, no pointing or enlarging machines.
Jean-Claude Marchionni and Simon Verity working on upper rank figures on the south side of the Portal of Paradise on Oct. 3, 1995. Photo by Martha Cooper
“Simon Verity and his collaborators created one of the most powerful works of religious art in recent times – the Portal of Paradise on the west front of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. I had the privilege of observing its thirty-one figures gradually emerge from blocks of raw limestone over a span of twelve years (1985-1997). Now, as a cathedral docent, I introduce visitors to its iconography and symbolism.
The principal figures on the north side are complete as seen in this Sept. 29, 1995 photo. The blocks for the upper rank figures have started roughing out. Photo by Martha Cooper
The Portal is the most prominent and probably most frequently photographed work of art at the cathedral. It is also the most misunderstood. Many visitors lack the once-widespread familiarity with the Bible that would enable them to recognize such important Biblical characters as John the Baptist, Moses, David, and Abraham and Sarah. They also lack familiarity with the custom – common since the Renaissance – of transporting to modern times Biblical events such as social unrest in ancient Israel and the destruction of Jerusalem.
A common misunderstanding, frequently repeated in social media, is that the Portal depicts scenes from the Book of Revelation in the New Testament, when in fact nearly all the imagery derives from the Old Testament. Misunderstanding and mystification have led some commentators to fantasize that something sinister lies behind images like the partially veiled face of Moses (from Exodus 34:33) or the skulls beneath the figure of Ezekiel (the Vision of Dry Bones, Ezekiel 37:1-14).
Simon Verity’s shoes dangle precariously as he carves the drapery on the figure of Abraham on the Portal of Paradise on Aug. 31, 1990. The jamb figures from left are Melchizedek, Sarah, Abraham and Jacob. Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
I have the privilege of helping visitors to see the Portal in the light in which its creators intended it to be seen and to appreciate the extraordinary richness of its Biblical imagery. After thirty years of observation, hardly a year goes by when I do not spot a detail that I never noticed before.
Simon Verity marks his upper rank carving of Deborah on Sept. 18, 1996. The figure is based on Pamela Morton, wife of James Park Morton, Dean of the Cathedral. Photo by Martha Cooper
Simon Verity’s legacy at the Cathedral will endure for as many centuries as the Cathedral stands. Stone is eternal, and Simon, who knew a bit of Latin, could easily appropriate for himself this line from Horace:
Exegi monumentum aere perennius (‘I have completed a monument more lasting than bronze’).”
-Thomas Fedorek – The Cathedral’s Senior Guide
Not Separate Statues
Simon did not see this project as in any sense isolated from the other elements of the Cathedral. He consulted with master geometer Michael Schneider to resolve connections between the images to be carved and the architecture. Line and shadow, how they would read from across the street and integrate into the West Front’s architecture were all worked out. Schneider tells us “he (Simon) organized the individual sculptures harmoniously with each other and with the building and space before it. Hardly anyone knows that Simon made the eyes of the line of sculpted personages each follow the visitor up the stairs in their sequence. Each looking at a key point in the geometry then passing us to the next set of eyes, watching us enter each step from the street up to the central front door.”
View of the south side of the Portal of Paradise on July 15, 2023. Photo Robert F Rodriguez
Now I trudge through the derelict streets of Harlem to the Cathedral, my tools over my shoulder. It’s a medieval horizon on the hill, massive, somber, squat with its unfinished towers. Here is my doorway facing west, my work laid out before me with the imperfections, the experiments, the hope, the possibilities. There is now no man alive who has the same experience I have, has worked this particular way. I am tracing painfully, intuitively, the same wellspring that gave life to a medieval maker of images.
– Simon Verity
Simon Verity is seen shaping the figure of Elijah in an undated photo by Mary Bloom.
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Special thanks to Robert F. Rodriguez for organizing all of the photos from his own collection, that of Martha Cooper and Mary Bloom and for reaching out to the carvers.
The New York Times Magazine, The Gospel According to Verity, July 9, 1989, Bruce Weber
With Companions for the Journey, James Parks Morton, An Annotated Memoir
The Portal of Paradise, Steve Zeitlin, citylore.org
Correspondence between Mark Saxe and Simon Verity
Divine Inspiration, Perspectives (magazine, UK), November 1994,
The Granite King. Image – Prominent and Progessive Americans, 1902
One of the largest and most important stone contractors in the country, John Peirce became known as the “Granite King”. The firm supplied the material and constructed the foundation piers and superstructure of this phase of the Cathedral.
John Peirce Company construction office on Cathedral grounds. June, 1908 NYPL, Digital Collections – Image ID 716214F, C/R 0687-D1
Born in Frankfort, Maine, Peirce had studied law at Harvard but chose to return to Maine in 1873 to take over his father’s granite business at Mount Waldo. His father had several important granite quarries as well as a general contracting and building business. He took to the industry quickly and began to grow the enterprise. Through investment, directorships and ownership he acquired additional granite properties to the extent that he largely controlled the output of the stone in the state. He gained interests in the Hallowell Granite Works and the Boswell Granite Company. Among these was the Boswell Granite Fox Island Company. Included were Vinalhaven’s vast granite resources. By the 1900’s there were over 46 small quarries on Vinalhaven. The Vinalhaven Warff Quarry was the source of the monumental columns at the Cathedral.
From Maine to New York
Peirce moved to New York City in the late 1880’s to oversee the operation of his New York and Maine Granite Paving Block Company. One of the company’s contracts paved Fifth Avenue from 8th Street to 90th Street with granite blocks.
Granite being shaped at the quarry with feathers and wedges.
He also realized that New York was the building center of the country and granite had become the symbol of strength and solidity. By the 1890’s he began to furnish building materials and erect many buildings in the city. Grand Central Terminal, the 42nd street New York Public Library and New York City’s first subway system among them. Peirce’s firm soon grew to be one of the largest granite contractors in the country.
Granite Ashlars and Voussoirs from Quarry at Cathedral Site. July 1900 – Image NYPL Digital Collection
By 1915 concrete, steel and asphalt replaced much of the demand for stone building products. Sleek modernity, rising costs of construction, modern paving methods and the decline of the stone carvers art were killing the granite industry. The advent of railroads especially the vastly superior networks in the midwest and the development of the limestone industry added to the decline. The “Granite King’s ” John Peirce Company ceased to exist.
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New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission
Prominent and Progressive Americans; an encyclopedia of contemporaneous biography, Harrison, Michael Charles, 1902, Vol. 2
Jeep Kincannon Carving a Label Stop – Photo Robert F Rodriguez
(This is an encore post following Robert F. Rodriguez’ article on the Kincannon brothers. – The original post appeared December 22, 2021 and was written by Joseph Kincannon.-RM)
Jeep, or rather D’Ellis Kincannon, started his apprenticeship in the stoneyard in 1980 after working in the Cathedral mail room for a year. He came to NYC to go to art school, but found it wasn’t for him. When the stone yard program started up it seemed a perfect fit, and it was.
He excelled as a banker mason. I think it’s fair to say that he and Jose (Tapia) were the top stone cutters. The Cathedral showcased their work for fundraising purposes. They were featured in multiple magazines and news publications.
Dean James Parks Morton reminiscing about the stunning pinnacle carved by D’Ellis Kincannon during a video inerview on Nov. 19, 2015 at the Interchurch Center in New York City. – Image Robert F. Rodriguez
The Banker Mason
Jeep was also one of the first few to apprentice under Chris Hannaway. He had the highest regard for Chris and was disappointed to see him return to England. He often made reference to Chris’ mastery in banker masonry and anything stone related. Jeep’s prize possession was an old mallet that Chris had given him from his early days in Liverpool.
D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon carves a sill skeleton bed mould base on April 13, 1981 – Photo Robert F. Rodriguez
Jeep Kincannon’s mallet, from Chris Hannaway Image – Joseph Kincannon
Master Builder James Bambridge was impressed enough with D’Ellis’ work to once state that “his masonry is as perfect as if it had been poured into a mold.” It was obvious that this discipline was one that Jeep immediately embraced. He also had a gift for drafting and setting out. He was a natural at perceiving 3-dimensional intersections.
Jeep’s Pinnacle Carving – Image Robert F. Rodriguez
To advance Jeep’s skills even further, the Cathedral sent him to the Bath School for Architectural Trades in England. This was very rewarding for Jeep as he completely immersed himself in the trade. Aside from the school, he was taken aback at finding himself in a city that the Romans had built in part. He was also astounded that one of the local pubs had been in operation since the “Black Death.” This place became a regular haunt for Jeep and many of the other students.
After a year, Jeep returned to NYC and continued working as a banker mason. By this time, Alan Bird had replaced Chris Hannaway and the yard was humming along. Later Jeep advanced into the setting-out shop with fellow apprentice, Cynie Linton. He had real misgivings about leaving banker masonry. I remember him grumbling despite the promotion.
The Setting-Out Shop
Jeep and Cynie worked directly with James Bambridge transferring the original architect’s drawings into full-scale tower drawings that would later be numbered and patterned into various zinc templates for the banker masons’ shop. The masons used to laugh when he would step in to help an apprentice understand the complex templates. “Uh oh, Jeep’s got that look on his face!” This is not a look you wanted to see, as it usually meant an irretrievable mistake had been made in the stone work. If you had trouble understanding the templates he and Cynie were the ones to see.
Jeep Kincannon setting-out templates for an Ornate Gablet. Image – Smithsonian Magazine
As things slowed down in the setting-out shop, a new opportunity arose; a competition for the new carving apprenticeship under the tutelage of Nick Fairplay. Jeep scored in the top five. He served his three years and was later appointed as head carver. During this period, he contributed many celebrated carvings to the tower. Jeep continued on in that position for a year until he was positioned as the head of the drafting and setting-out department.
As Chief Draftsman, Jeep also worked on the tower with Master Mason Steve Boyle, for whom he had the greatest respect. Boyle was not one to embrace the limelight and Jeep often commented on how he was the unsung hero who quietly puzzled together the massive stones on the tower, a truly monumental task.
Working on the Tower
“Jeep” Kincannon with Angel Escobar up on the Southwest Tower. – Photo Joseph Kincannon
Steve relayed a story about how instrumental Jeep was in the setting of the first course of stonework:
“It should be mentioned that Jeep deserves credit for the tower actually fitting on the building. Delays in scaffold erection meant that the first stones that we laid were rather hurriedly positioned. The deadline for the installation of the Jerusalem Stone rapidly approached. The setting of this historic cornerstone included a well-publicized ceremony featuring high wire aerialist, Philippe Petit delivering a silver trowel to the Bishop of New York for the official blessing. Since the scaffolding was only partially in place, it hadn’t been possible to lay out all of the building lines as planned before Bambridge had to return to the UK.
This was alarming to me at the time as it meant this task might fall to me. Sure enough, as we began to set more stone it was clear that the first stones had been set too far over to the North resulting in the new stone overhanging by about a half inch. I called Bambridge in the U.K. and he told me I would have to do the setting out. He understood my uneasiness, but told me I could always rely on Jeep for help with this and he was right. Jeep had a thorough understanding of the whole project by this time and knew exactly what to do. Great thanks to him; everything ended up where it was supposed to be.”
-Master Mason Stephen Boyle
Cathedral Stoneworks
In 1989, he stepped away from drafting to join the carving team working on the West Front. Work on the Central Portal statuary had recently resumed under the direction of Simon Verity. For Jeep, the carving ended too soon. The Jewish Museum awarded a major contract to the stoneyard. It was an early 20th Century Gothic Revival building on 5th Avenue. The drafting department was about to become a very busy place.
This was the beginning of a new era. A commercial venture was underway with the goal of replenishing the depleted Cathedral coffers by taking on independent projects. It was a good effort, but the partnership with Cathedral Stoneworks ultimately marked the end of the tower project and any dream of completing the Cathedral. Jeep continued working as Chief Draftsman until he left in 1993.
He Wore Many Hats
He was one of the few who wore most of the hats available in the Cathedral stone yard. Those hats included sawyer, estimator, banker mason, setting-out, stone carver and fixer mason (on the tower). He would laugh and say that the only job he didn’t do was to run the planer. That position belonged to Nelson Otero, and to only Nelson Otero.
D’Ellis often expressed his admiration for other modest people who produced great stone work for the tower. He often referred to Yves Pierre and Angel Escobar. He once said that “The very first time Angel picked up a chisel, he knew what to do with it. And, it was a little unnerving.” These guys were natural stone cutters, but not inclined to talk in front of the T.V. cameras.
Beyond the Cathedral, he would spend the next eight years teaching, designing, cutting and carving stone on large public and private projects with Kincannon Studios in Texas until his death in 2001. I can say that throughout this period, as busy as we were, he was ready to drop everything and return to NYC if the team reunited to finish the tower. There’s no doubt about that.
Dragon by D’Ellis Kincannon – Photo by Robert F. Rodriguez
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The author of this post, Joseph Kincannon, is the younger brother of D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon. Joseph is a teacher and architectural sculptor. Professor Kincannon is currently the Chair of Stone Carving at the American College of Building Arts.
D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon shapes a pinnacle stone with a long chisel while his brother Joseph Kincannon works on a small tracery on Oct. 31, 1984.
from competition to commiseration…
When D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon and his younger brother Joseph worked together as banker masons at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine, there was a quiet but definite fraternal competition. Joseph, five years younger, explains, “Jeep and I were more competitive. I suppose that’s because the end product was clearly defined through shop drawings and job tickets, no guess work. Although extremely complex, masonry work was straight up geometry, allowing the stone cutter to have a more clear-eyed focus on speed and production, leading to a more competitive drive.”
When both brothers were invited to work in the carving shed, however, Joseph says it was like “jumping into the abyss.” And the nature of the brothers’ competition changed.
He recalls,“even with drawings and/or models, there were surprises around every corner — a lot more uncertainty. And to add more pressure, the carvings had to be woven into finely finished stones that a banker mason had already labored over. Neither Jeep nor I felt confident enough to gloat. We were more likely compelled to commiserate. Nick (Fairplay) was very democratic, and articulate in his damning critiques.”
In temperament, the brothers were opposite sides of the coin. Jeep was more quiet and reserved, while Joseph was more outgoing.
Master Carver Nicholas Fairplay said they were like “chalk and cheese.” Nicholas was referring to their approach to carving and differing styles, but their individual personalities were probably factored into his assessment.
According to Nicholas, Jeep was “detail oriented but he found it very difficult to be bold and get out of the box.” By contrast, “Joseph was bold immediately and very fluid, very creative on his pieces.”
When the brothers began designing and carving label stops for the lower levels of the south tower, they chose topics of interest to them. For instance, Jeep may have been inspired by mythology and forest creatures.
D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon gently chisels away at the underside of his horned creature “Goat Man” carving on June 3, 1985.
His delicately carved piece of a grotesque with swept back horns, long drooping ears, flowing beard and mustache looks like a young Pan or satyr. In ancient Greek religion Pan is the god of the wild, shepherds and flocks, and companion of the nymphs. Pan is usually represented as having the hindquarters, legs, and horns of a goat, in the same manner as a faun or satyr. Jeep’s work resides on the West façade of St. Paul’s tower, facing Amsterdam Avenue.
For his next label stop carving Jeep worked on a whimsical little forest creature. This happy looking elf featured tight ringlets of hair, long pointed ears and flexing muscular arms. Jeep achieved depth with his exacting carving technique.
D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon carves curly hair on his “Mighty Might” buttress gablet label stop carving on June 2, 1986.
Jeep then dove into a common theme adopted by many Gothic stone carvers – a Green Man. In Celtic mythology, the Green Man represents the lord of the forest and the patron of animals and fertility. He is mainly a symbol of untamed nature. Branches or vines may sprout from the mouth, nostrils, or other parts of the face, and these shoots may bear flowers or fruit. Green Man, also known as a foliate head, first appeared in England during the early 12th century deriving from those of France.
Jeep’s interpretation featured an exquisitely carved face emerging from thick and sinuously veined foliage on both sides of a creature’s head, with more foliage sprouting from his mouth.
D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon’s Green Man label stop and the row of gablets are seen on the northeast corner of the tower on Sept. 13, 2022.
Joseph’s carving style differed from his older brother’s as seen in the variety of his carvings, ranging from humorous creations to odd looking creatures. Two conveyed hidden messages.
If Jeep could make a Green Man, then Joseph chose a carving that could be called a Green Cat. A round-faced feline with tongue sticking out seems to emerge from a border of foliage and acorns. Joseph recalls “it was one of my earliest carvings. Damned thing put me through hell.”
Joseph Kincannon starts carving a feline on a buttress gablet label stop in a 1985 photo. Photo by Mary Bloom
While Joseph’s Green Cat can be seen on the tower’s west façade, his remaining three label stops are all set on the South elevation.
The first carving with a hidden message can be seen in Joseph’s imp with his fingers in his ears. He said “the stoneyard was struggling at the time. If memory serves there were a lot of layoffs, a management shakeup, accompanied by many painful meetings.” Joseph kept his head down and kept on working – he didn’t want to hear it. But there was also another reason for the gesture, he explains, “The carving is pointed in the direction of my mother’s apartment building (on Broadway and W. 111 Street) and she can be a little long-winded. The gift-of-the-gab runs in the family, so this was an inside joke. Hence, the inspiration for this ugly little head is two-fold.”
Closeup of Joseph Kincannon’s carving of a figure with fingers plugging his ears on June 3, 1985.
A funny carving with deep set round eyes, wearing a brimless hat and using both hands to pull his mouth wide apart, elicited a comment from James Parks Morton, then Dean of the Cathedral. In a 2015 video interview the Dean remarked on the stone carving, “One of the things they recaptured was carving with a sense of humor,” he said, as he did his imitation of the funny looking carving. “It’s a scream,” he added.
This buttress gablet label stop seen on May 24,1986 shows a wide-eyed imp pulling his mouth wide open, carved by Joseph Kincannon.
Joseph had another secret hidden in a carving of a ragged-toothed grotesque with flaring nostrils and pointed ears. Joseph clearly had in mind that this secret could only be seen by someone on the ground looking up at this label stop on the east elevation. Recently, viewed through a camera with a super telephoto lens, a wonderfully carved detail of a face peacefully peering out from deep inside the creature’s wide open rounded mouth was visible. This carving is a masterpiece of skill and execution.
A face serenely peers out from inside a demon’s toothy mouth on Joseph Kincannon’s label stop on the tower’s south facade, seen on June 17, 2024.
Together, Jeep and Joseph carved seven of the 14 label stops for the buttress gablets, among the earliest individually designed works to come out of the carving shed.
Both brothers worked for the Cathedral Institute and later the Cathedral Stoneworks for over 10 years. When construction stopped in the early 1990s Joseph and his wife Holly started Kincannon Studios in Austin, TX. Jeep joined them later and stayed with the stoneworking studio until he passed away in 2001.
Commenting on the Kincannon brothers, Master Mason Stephen Boyle also observed that, while their personalities may have been far different from each other,
both shared the same serious commitment to producing the highest standard of work no matter what area they were working in…both intensely focused and perfectionists.
– Master Mason Stephen Boyle
When is a grotesque a gargoyle?
Many people mistakenly believe that every carving on a Gothic church is a gargoyle.
The word is derived from the Old French gargouille, meaning “throat.” According to Wikipedia, in Gothic architecture, a gargoyle is a carved or formed grotesque with a spout designed to convey water from a roof and away from the side of a building, thereby preventing it from running down masonry walls and eroding the mortar between. Gargoyles are usually elongated fantastical animals because their length determines how far water is directed from the wall. When Gothic flying buttresses were used, aqueducts were sometimes cut into the buttress to divert water over the aisle walls.
This is a closeup view of gargoyles at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.Their open mouths discharges water away from the building.
A grotesque is a fantastic or mythical figure carved from stone and fixed to the walls or roof of a building and does not project far from the wall.
D’Ellis “Jeep” Kincannon’s Goat Man is seen on June 3, 1985. It is an example of a grotesque carving.
Grotesques often depict whimsical, mythical creatures in dramatic or humorous ways. Although grotesques typically depict a wide range of subjects, they are often hybrids of different mythical, human, and animalistic features.
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This is the third in a series of articles about the carvings on the Southwest Tower by Robert F. Rodriguez, an artist/photographer-in-residence at the Cathedral as these artworks were being created. All the images in this article were taken by the author. He spent more than 10 years documenting all facets of the construction work. His working life includes photo editor at Gannett Newspapers for 38 years and The Daily Mail for ten.
Stephen Boyle, former Master Mason and tower construction supervisor, carefully lifts a marble tablet along the circular stone staircase at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine on June 18, 2024. He assisted in bringing the stone, dedicated to James R. Bambridge, the Stoneyard Institute’s Master Builder, to the base of St. Paul’s tower where it will be permanently installed.
One step closer to realizing a sister’s wish.
It took four of us to haul a 30-lb. marble tablet up the narrow, circular, stone staircase to St. Paul’s tower at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.
Stephen Boyle, former master mason, and I handled the first leg, carefully lifting the marble memorial plaque dedicated to James R. Bambridge, the Stoneyard Institute’s Master Builder, up the seemingly endless staircase.
This is a closeup of the memorial stone carved by Cathedral stone cutter Timothy Smith honoring James R. Bambridge, the Stoneyard Institute’s first Master Builder, seen at Tim’s home in Philmont, NY on Oct. 13, 2022.
On hand to lend some muscle were Jim Patterson, Facilities Director at the Cathedral, and David Goughnour, Assistant Facilities Director. Besides the narrow and sometimes dimly lit staircase, we had to maneuver along a narrow catwalk bordering the undulating vaulted ceiling and then up one final, very narrow, corkscrew staircase to the base of the tower.
David Goughnour, Assistant Facilities Director, carefully hauls a marble tablet along a catwalk above the vaulting at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine on June 18, 2024. David assisted in bringing the stone, dedicated to James R. Bambridge, the Stoneyard Institute’s Master Builder, to the base of St. Paul’s tower where it will be permanently installed.
Jim Patterson, top, Director of Facilities, and David Goughnour, assistant director, carefully lift a marble tablet along the circular staircase at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine on June 18, 2024.
The idea of delivering the tablet to the tower, which took about a half hour, started almost 10 years ago with a handwritten Air Mail letter from Bambridge’s sister, Doreen Clark, who lives in Yorkshire, England. She was asking for a memorial in honor of her brother, who passed away in 2012. That request came to Timothy Smith, one of the original five stone cutters hired by Bambridge and Dean James Parks Morton in 1979.
JAMES BAMBRIDGE
Bambridge had an extensive resume as a Cathedral builder, one of the few people in the world qualified to take on the job of constructing the towers at St. John the Divine
Master Builder James Bambridge poses for a portrait in the stoneyard shed on July 8, 1981.
He worked on many buildings damaged by bombs during World War II, including the Houses of Parliament. Bambridge also worked in Canada as Master Mason for restoration work at the Anglican Cathedral in St. Johns, Newfoundland. In 1967 he moved to Liverpool’s Anglican Cathedral. Later, Bambridge was appointed Master Mason at Wells Cathedral and, in 1979, was asked to help complete St. John the Divine.
Bambridge had to build the stoneyard operation entirely from scratch – there were no architectural blueprints, no stones, no stonecutting equipment and no stone cutters.
Within a few years Bambridge created a dynamic workplace with a crew as large as 30 people employed in various capacities, including cutting stones, creating the schematics, carving the elaborate figures and finally building the tower. His legacy, according to a magazine interview, was “that I can teach another generation of stone cutters.”
Working on the first few courses on St. Paul’s tower, Master Mason Stephen Boyle and Master Builder James Bambridge spread a bed of mortar prior to setting an ashlar on Nov. 9, 1982.
After seven years at the Cathedral, in late 1985 or early 1986, Bambridge returned to England and consulted on the restoration of the historic Grand Buildings in Trafalgar Square, London. With that project finished, Bambridge retired to his small holding in Dorset, England and passed away in 2012.
The Tablet’s Request
Sometime in 2015 or 2016, Timothy Smith received Doreen Clark’s special request.
Timothy said it took only several months to complete the memorial tablet. He consulted with Doreen on his final design.
Then the tablet languished on his porch for several years until he and I had a chance conversation. He told me that the Bambridge tablet and a second tablet in honor of his stoneyard colleagues were ready to be installed at the Cathedral if he had a way to get them there – a two-plus hour drive from Manhattan.
Cathedral Institute stone cutter Timothy Smith looks at the two memorial tablets he carved, seen at his home in Philmont, NY on Oct. 13, 2022. The marble tablet on left recognizes many of the workers who went through the Stoneyard Institute program and the right tablet honors James R. Bambridge, the stoneyard’s first Master Builder.
My wife Stephanie and I had upcoming plans to be in the Berkshires, not far from where Timothy lived. I told him I would pick up the tablets and hold them until we could make arrangements to install them at an appropriate place in the Cathedral. The only hitch was that Timothy and his wife Laurie would be away when we were in the area. He explained that the tablets were on his porch and I could come anytime.
I requested that he alert the Sheriff’s office so I would not be arrested for theft and trespassing.
In 2023, I carefully packed up the tablets without incident and without having to be bailed out of the local jail.
The Final Location
It took a while to make arrangements for their installation, with Dean Patrick Malloy lending assistance. After our morning’s exertions hauling the Bambridge memorial tablet up to the tower in June 2024, there was still work to be done.
The interior of the tower that started to rise in 1982 is a dark chamber lined primarily with brick and with several louvre doors for ventilation and to allow in some light. It rises over 30 feet to where heavy steel beams, which were to support a 13-bell carillon, form the base of the ceiling.
This is a view of the interior of the partially constructed St. Paul’s tower, seen on June 18, 2024. Stephen Boyle and Robert F. Rodriguez delivered a memorial tablet honoring James R. Bambridge, the Master Builder, to the chamber. Bambridge’s sister, Doreen Clark, requested that a memorial for her brother be set in the tower.
In the dim light Stephen Boyle and Jim Patterson checked a few areas on the walls for a suitable location to permanently place the plaque. They will devise a mounting system to keep the marble tablet secure and I will look into having a photo of Bambridge displayed in a weatherproof frame to accompany the tablet.
Master Mason Stephen Boyle and Jim Patterson, Director of Facilities at the The Cathedral of St. John the Divine, examine a wall on St. Paul’s tower for permanent installation of the tablet. June 18, 2024.
Once the tablet is secured, Stephen and I hope to have a formal dedication and blessing of the tablet by Cathedral clergy sometime in the fall.
A sister’s request will then be fully honored.
Artist-in-Residence Robert F. Rodriguez and Master Mason Stephen Boyle pose with the memorial tablet for Master Builder James R. Bambridge after it was safely delivered to the tower on June 18, 2024.
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All images in this article were taken by the author, photojournalist and Cathedral Artist-in-Residence, Robert F. Rodriguez.
