
Sculpture in the City
The Leadenhall Building, Sculpture in The City, London
July 16, 2025 – Spring 2026
London’s financial district is basically a monument to glass and steel — you know the vibe, but the 14th “Sculpture in the City” exhibition drops something genuinely rough and old into the Square Mile, which doesn’t always know what to do with that. The installation features eleven artworks that contrast sharply with the polished corporate environment. The participating artists are Ai Weiwei, Jane and Louise Wilson, Andrew Sabin, Julian Opie, Maya Rose Edwards, Samuel Ross, Richard Mackness, Elisa Artesero, Daniel Silver, and Oliver Bragg.
The centerpiece is Ai Weiwei’s Roots: Palace in the St Botolph-without-Bishopsgate churchyard. It is a massive, cast-iron model of an endangered tree’s root system, created using traditional casting techniques with Brazilian artisans. The iron is already rusting into a bright orange. It stands out against the modern architecture and it’s hard to stand next to it and not feel the weight of what’s been lost — literally and otherwise.
Nearby at 70 St Mary Axe is Andrew Sabin’s Looping Loop. Sabin actually modeled the original shape out of pastry margarine. The final piece is made from stone aggregate and liquid plastic, but it keeps that lumpy, organic texture. It looks like a bizarre, overgrown blob dropped right into the middle of a corporate street.

Inside the Leadenhall Building, Jane and Louise Wilson installed Dendrophiles directly under a pair of escalators. These large ink drawings map out ancient tree rings and DNA from Roman London, specifically referencing old wooden bridges. Honestly, the placement is kind of perfect. Commuters ride sleek modern escalators while looking up at the city’s ancient, microscopic foundations.

These new commissions join pieces by artists like Samuel Ross, Julian Opie, and Daniel Silver, and they will stay up until next spring. Most public art in places like this feels like someone ticked a box. This exhibition works because it makes finance — which lives entirely in screens and spreadsheets — actually share space with rust and wood and stone, like rust, wood, and stone.