The paper today noted the passing of Simon Verity, a dear friend and extraordinary artist whose presence will be deeply missed by all who knew him. I had the great fortune to meet Simon at the American Academy in Rome, where he was working on a commission for a fountain on the grounds. From that moment on, Simon became a lifelong companion, and his impact on my life—and the lives of so many others—cannot be overstated.
Simon was a man of immense talent, a “stone whisperer” with an unparalleled understanding of the materials he worked with. Walking through Rome with Simon was fascinating, he could tell you the provenance of any building or sculpture’s stone, whether ancient or modern. I recall one particular afternoon in Trastevere when he stopped at a doorway framed in grey volcanic Peperino. Without hesitation, he dragged his finger across the stone, then licked it to determine its mineral content. That’s the level of commitment Simon had to his craft—he was a virtuoso who engaged with his work both profoundly and playfully.
Simon was also whipsmart, funny, and kind—the kind of person who seemed to have stepped out of a different age. His distinct “floating hair,” as Coleridge might have described it, was a point of pride. He once bragged to me that he had never brushed his hair a single time in his life, despite his family’s annual tradition of giving him a hairbrush as a Christmas gift. His unkempt mane was a signature look. Simon wore it with the same confident grace that defined so much of his character. I remember particularly during a visit to the Vatican, Simon was singled out from our group for an extra security search—an event we all knew could have been avoided with a quick neatening up with a comb, though that would have been unthinkable for him.
After our time in Rome, Simon and I stayed close in New York. I had the pleasure of helping design a jewel box of a studio apartment for him on Riverside Park. Simon honored me in the most incredible way — by carving the figure of Aaron on the Cathedral of St. John the Divine using my likeness. It’s a gesture I will always cherish, a testament to the deep friendship we shared.
Simon Verity was a rare soul—an artist of the highest order and a friend of unwavering loyalty. His legacy lives on in the carvings he so shaped, and in the hearts of those who loved him. He will be missed.
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/01/arts/simon-verity-dies.html
