He is sympathetic toward his little people and we empathise with their situations, their leisure time, their waiting for buses and their more tragic moments such as accidental death, suicide or family funerals. His sculptures can be found in gutters, on top of buildings, on top of bus shelters - in many unusual and unlikely places in the capital. This book is the first time his images have been shown in together in one book dedicated to his work. Many images never seen before Cordal's concrete sculptures are like little magical gifts to the public that only a few lucky people will see and love but so many more will have missed. Left to their own devices throughout London Cordal what really makes these pieces magical is their placement. They bring new meaning to little corners of the urban environment. They express something vulnerable but deeply engaging. Left to fend for themselves, you almost want to protect them in some way, or perhaps communicate with them. Of course the 25cm high sculptures of people in everyday poses the artist creates in are not real, are they? Well you've opened a whole can of worms with that question.
Yes, the little scenes in Concrete Eclipse are somewhat poignant but they do not invite you to weep passively for lost worlds you never knew. They are there to provide a one handed clap to shake you from your reveries and plug you back in to the world. So Cordall's men in grey are a little message of hope in spite of their forlorn appearance and they are there to remind you that pessimism is not common sense, it's just pessimism. So make sure you do something inessential today. Go on, the grey men don't want you to.