It’s moments like this which are a reminder of how interconnected religious figures were around northern Europe. This figure of St Thomas Becket of Canterbury is a good example, although this is a 1927 copy. The original was made in Lübeck by Bernt Notke (1440-1509) for the church of Skeppstuna in Sweden. I’d been trying to establish where I’d heard of him before, but it’s because of his Danse Macabre in Tallinn.
It shows how far the cult of Becket travelled after his murder in Canterbury Cathedral in 1170. A saint violently and sub-optimally dispatched in England somehow ended up represented in splendid painted and gilded wood for a Swedish church. The face is especially compelling as it’s pale, stern, pink-cheeked and direct, with the slightly fixed expression of someone who has seen the workings of power from rather too close a distance. The detail is decadent without being delicate; the gloved hands, the red book, the halo, the painted canopy and the little flashes of blue and gold all turn the sculpture into something quite noteworthy.