NatWest Tower, Bishopsgate EC2

The middle panel on the NatWest facade is the last carved by John Hancock. The matching two bays on the right were added by Gibson in 1878, by which time Hancock had died at the tragically early age of 46.
Hancock's last panel shows the Angel of the Merchant Navy standing on a dock as a ship comes in. As with many maritime scenes portrayed by artists who never went near the sea, it make absolutely no sense. At the bow, a bearded matelot holds a painter attached precariously to a ring on a post. So the anchor that the burly sailor with the sideburns is throwing overboard at the stern would presumably be completely unnecessary.
Another sailor in the bows is lowering a jib and gathering it in, but the halyard is not connected to the peak of the sail.
That enormous spar sticking up behind the Angel is another mystery. A sail is hung from it, so it should be a yard, but there does not seem to be any mast for it to hang from.
And - what on earth is that stuff draped over the top of the poor girl's head? Seaweed?

NatWest Tower, Bishopsgate EC2

John Hancock's next panels are devoted to Manufactures and Agriculture. The Angel of Industry is spinning wool in the old fashioned way, with a distaff and spindle, but rather oddly she is holding the distaff under her right arm. Perhaps she is left-handed, or are angels ambidextrous?
On the right, ladies spin using a spinning wheel, although by the 1860s even they were on the way out, made obsolete by the steam powered spinning jenny.
On the left, a potter throws an urn on a wheel while another carries a finished pot from the kiln.
The Angel of Agriculture carries a sheaf of wheat and a sickle, and stands with one foot on that inevitable cliche of such groups, a cornucopia that looks about to distribute its bounty all over the heads of passers-by.

Behind, a pair of oxen draw a plough, urged on by a small boy with a stick. A knobbly oak tree rises in the background. Hancock clearly enjoyed himself with this scene - the figures are sprightly and vigorous, though the oxen look a bit glum.

NatWest Tower, Bishopsgate EC2

The title above is wrong in almost all respects. This post is nothing to do with the NatWest Tower. Which has been renamed Tower 42 anyway. And the original National Provincial Bank was carefully designed to have the front door in high-class Threadneedle Street, like the Bank of England, to avoid having to put a plebean Bishopsgate address on the letterhead.
These are the panels that John Hancock carved on either side of that entrance.
On the left is the Spirit of the Fine Arts, by which Hancock means Engraving, Architecture, Sculpture and Surgical Breast Enhancement - sorry! no! she is definitely Painting.
According to the Victorians, the Fine Arts did not include Music, Photography or (heaven forfend) Performance Art.
On the right, the Angel of Science reveals something divine to an artificer and an engineer. Behind her, an old geezer who may well be Archimedes explains the elements of navigation to a couple of small boys. The Lamp of Reason shines from behind.

NatWest Tower, Bishopsgate EC2

The NatWest Tower is not the greatest skyscraper in the world, but it pulls off one of the most difficult tricks in architecture - extending a great classical building in an unashamedly modern style without either ruining the old or compromising the new.
The original headquarters of the National Provincial Bank was designed by John Gibson in 1864. It is a procession of giant columns, just one storey, as if the bank was boasting that it could afford to build low when everyone else was cramming in as much floor space as possible on their sites.
A century later, the NatWest wanted to make a more modern statement with a bigger, brasher HQ. They brought in Colonel Siefert, a man who never put art before money, but he saw that adding extra floors on the Gibson building would destroy it, and would not provide the space required either.
So he built London's then-tallest building behind Gibson's hall, making it into a plinth for the tower. It works outstandingly well.
If only the Bank of England had had the courage to do the same, instead of allowing Sir Herbert Baker to plonk a massive and stupendously boring stone block on top of Sir John Soane's masterpiece, one of the 20th century's great acts of vandalism.
Where was I? Oh yes, the NatWest. It is covered with high-quality statuary. Between the giant columns are panels representing the usual Victorian themes of commerce, trade, honest toil etc. They are by John Hancock, a friend and admirer of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.
The panel over the doors shows the Angel of Commerce armed with the fasces or bundle of rods representing justice, standing next to a hive for prosperity.
From the left, traders from India, America, Africa and China bring their produce to her feet. She waves them on to a group of merchants who record, weigh and value the goods. The banker on the extreme right is sitting on his bonus.