If you’ve been inside St. John’s Cathedral, you may have noticed some very strange statues mounted on the pillars near the front part of the transept. They look like ceramic cartoon figures and are simultaneously weird, ghoulish, and adorable. What the hell is going on with them? This staff writer has some theories.
I like wandering around giant, cool-looking buildings, so it seemed natural for me to pay a few visits to St. John’s Cathedral- it’s a wonderfully convenient way to get my impressive-architecture fix now and then. From the outside, there aren’t a lot of red flags- it’s pretty normal-looking, as humongous cathedrals go, even if its top bits aren’t quite done. Besides the Peace Fountain outside (which is definitely some sort of New World Order Illuminati shit), St. John’s isn’t necessarily obvious as the nexus of a vast global conspiracy.
Venture inside, and at first all still seems well. Giant pillars, fancy stained glass, acoustics that make sneezing a mortifying experience- standard cathedral stuff. But if one takes a seat in the chairs set out where the transept intersects with the nave, and looks up, a bizarre sight presents itself.
Rising up the walls on little platforms are strange and seemingly incredibly out-of-place figures, looking like they’ve been ripped straight out of a newspaper comic strip. A casual observer might chalk them up as an odd but amusing temporary exhibit or something- after all, St. John’s does have temporary displays of various artists, so one could be forgiven for writing off these statues.
However, a more careful eye will swiftly pick up on their sinister overtones. It immediately becomes evident that some of the statues are apparently dead, their skeleton forms grinning eerily out at the congregation’s seating. Others carry food and dollar or cent symbols, with expressions that range from overjoyed to despondent, and they are also frequently accompanied by animal sidekicks, who share the same range of moods and also in some cases appear to be staring at us from the other side of death’s door.
The more you look, the more there is to see. Fish feature prominently in many places- and, coincidentally, are an ancient Christian symbol (and these fish are not weird tropical fish or squid, but rather shaped almost exactly like the ichthys symbol). Continuing the theme of symbolism, the many birds, both living and skeletal, featured throughout the installation bear a strong resemblance to pelicans, a well-known symbol of Christ.
There also seems to be some sort of correlation between death, money or food (worldly goods), and the happiness displayed by the statues, though I have yet to determine what exactly it is, and if one looks further up, it appears that several statues are being forced to walk the plank, while gigantic serpents (symbols of evil and the Devil), some skeletal and some living, coil around the top of the pillars the statues are all mounted on.
The signs explaining the installation really only raise more questions, rather than allaying any fears over the hidden messages in the statues. The installation was created by Tom Otterness—also known for Life Underground, an equally unsettling and symbol-laden installation in the 14th Street-8th Avenue subway station—and the statues have been rather peculiarly named. The humanoid figures are not referred to as such, but rather as “cones” and “spheres.” Like so many other parts of the installation, this wouldn’t be that unsettling on its own- but no part of Life and Death, as it’s named (which doesn’t really help), seems able to be taken on its own.
The real question is- what does it all mean? Is it a scathing criticism of capitalism and modern society, showing soulless skeletons happily starving themselves and walking the plank in pursuit of the all-powerful dollar? Is it a secret proclamation of Satanic control over the Church, as depicted by the serpents climbing towards the top of the cathedral? Is it the vanguard of Christ’s heavenly army, bound in ceramic, lying in wait for the fast-approaching End of Days?
If I twist one of the skeleton’s heads, will the Peace Fountain come to life and start eating people? Or maybe the statues are in fact intended to defend the cathedral in such an event. Since St. John’s is closed at night, one also has to wonder what the statues are up to- perhaps they’re used somehow for secret meetings of the Illuminati, either serving as facilitators for remote conferences or coming to life and serving as robotic guards for actual meetings inside St. John’s. They could just as easily be alien operatives, though- clearly, more intensive study is necessary to solve this puzzle. Bwog will continue this story as new developments arrive, and try to find some answers for a city gripped by fear.
2 Comments
@Anonymous I have never had the opportunity to explore this place. But for now, I’d just like to say that your writing style is incredibly beautiful and makes me want to explore this curious place before these strange messages and creatures are somehow destroyed. Kudos Bwog staff!!
@Anonymous A lot of buildings, like CUNY grad center, have roman fascist fasces from before mussolini