Tomorrow's Angels

The Stranger, the first in the series, also known as Tomorrow I, stands straight, shoulders relaxed, draped in smooth folds of resin. No gesture distinguishes it; it simply holds space. This silent sentinel represents the soul encountering form — neither resisting nor commanding. Its anonymity and stillness emphasise presence as an act of being rather than doing, inviting viewers to contemplate their own thresholds between spirit and matter.

A towering figure clothed in patinated amalgam bronze, The Master stands with arms folded. Its posture conveys calm authority and grounded stillness, evoking an archetype of inner sovereignty. Without facial features, the sculpture invites projection: teacher, ruler, guardian. Cast in the early 1990s, this figure became a key exemplar of Lossgott's veiled series about the redefinition of our future. It refers to the sublime of the unknown, which has the power to compel or destroy us.

Seated atop a wooden sleeper, The Elder is cloaked in heavy turquoise resin folds that resemble ancient robes. The bowed head and gathered form suggest introspection and patience. With no face to anchor identity, the reclining sculpture becomes a vessel of collective wisdom pausing — an angel who waits through epochs, embodying the power of silent endurance.

This transparent resin figure — tinted violet-pink — leans forward with knees bent and drapery flowing. Light passes through the sculpture, turning it into a beacon of connection. Its posture evokes intimacy and openness, suggesting a companion who listens without judgement. Its speculative title, The Lover, reflects the depth of emotional resonance found in stillness.

The Prisoner stands with arms curled inward around a hidden orb, head bowed toward its hands. The tight folds of resin suggest the weight of obsession — not imposed confinement, but attachment that binds the spirit. Lossgott's sculpture manifests the Buddhist insight that suffering arises from clinging; here, the bandaged drapery becomes both garment and prison. Unfinished touches on the orb leave its identity open: memory, desire, or fear.

Hunched low, knees drawn to the chest, and arms wrapped around the knees, The Beggar huddles into itself — veiled, downcast, and resolute in its vulnerability. Rust-tinted resin gives the surface an earthen quality. Unlike other angels who offer or guide, this figure asks to be seen. It embodies the soul's lowest ebb, reminding viewers that collapse is part of becoming and that even angels can hide in simple clothes.

This angel's arms form a bowl — designed as a fountain or a planter — casting water or soil. Made of white stone-powder resin, The Mother radiates purity and giving. Its open gesture contrasts with the inward focus of other angels, embodying care and renewal. Installed in garden and public contexts, the piece merges ritual and practicality, inviting interaction with spirit.