The piece is a direct translation of Matthew 25:36 — “I was naked and you gave me clothing.” It came from something Schmalz witnessed on an earlier trip to Rome: watching from his window, over a cold night, as a homeless couple settled onto the concrete below using sheets of cardboard as bedding, blankets, and a screen against being seen.

Then he watched rats come out and crawl into the cardboard where they were sleeping. He’s described his heart sinking in that moment — and waking up the next morning knowing exactly how he’d sculpt this one: Christ clutching a single, measly piece of cardboard, nothing more.

Tim on the piece: “I saw some rats coming from the street, crawling into the cardboard bedding they’d made… my thoughts were crushed. And that morning, I realized how I would sculpt it.” He’s also spoken about the piece’s placement in Rome — at the entrance to a church holding one of the world’s great masterworks — as a deliberate statement: before you go in to admire the art, you have to reckon with the Gospel out on the street first.