Robert Merry, is an independent stone consultant and project manager who ran his own company for 17 years. He also acts as an expert witness. Here he presents his view of the stone industry this month.

Sometimes you happen upon something of such overwhelming beauty it’s hard to catch your breath. Like being at the birth of your child… if you’re the Dad. You’d sort of expect to be there if you’re the Mum. Anyway, something extraordinary in a good way.

It has happened to me and I feel compelled to explain and share this with you.

It wasn’t a birth. In fact it was in commemoration of a death, of a return home and of a loss.

It’s like this. We plan small weekend breaks for holidays because the children don’t want to come with us anymore – unless we mention America or somewhere exotic. In that case we are miraculously and suddenly, if fleetingly, popular. We become worthy of their limited attention briefly before their focus returns to their electronic devices.

We aren’t away long enough for it to matter, either. We stock up the house with food, leave them some money for a Pizza and head off to wander European cities.

The children – a term I use loosely – are 17 and 20, so in theory they can look after themselves. They were still alive last time we looked.

One such trip before Christmas was to Naples, Italy’s third largest city. It is the ninth most densely populated urban area in Europe with 8,900-odd people per square kilometre. London has around 5,000. It’s noisy, dirty – the Mafia allegedly dump industrial waste in the local fields and burn it (I said allegedly; some of my best friends are in the mafia… honest) – and, on a weekend, crowded.

Every street is like your local supermarket just before a major public holiday only it’s sunny. 68ºC in November. Loooovely.

Across the bay from Vesuvius, which last erupted in 1944, Naples has 27 centuries of history, including the remarkably preserved Roman towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum.

Originally founded by Greeks, it has had owners and occupiers aplenty – Romans, Byzantines, Goths, Normans, French, Spanish, the French again, an Anglo-Russian invasion and eventual unification with the rest of Italy in 1870ish once they got Rome back from Napoleon III.

In the narrow, crowded streets, washing draped over balconies drips on to innocent passers-by. Suddenly you happen upon a square. A church or basilica in one corner, adorned or abandoned – much of Naples is in dire need of restoration and more than 200 of the 400 odd churches there are closed.

One that remains open is the Cappella Sansevero, a small chapel on Via Francesco de Sanctis. Conceived in its current form by The Prince of Savero, Raimondo di Sangroin, in the 18th century, it contains truly extraordinary carved marble statues.

Three in particular are breathtaking. The Prince was reportedly an alchemist. One story is that the adornments to the sculptures are made from a process of crystallizing a base solution of calcium hydrate (slaked lime) poured over a marble carving beneath. Alchemy indeed. The process has never been proven and I like to think it is the invention of those, like me, who could not believe their eyes.

The Veiled Christ by Giuseppe Sanmartino (1753) is a carving of Jesus after he is taken down from the cross and a veil placed across his dead body. The slight indentations at the nostrils give the impression that Jesus was perhaps still alive. It is as if real, the carving so fine as to raise the hairs on the back of your neck.

Equally beautiful and bewildering is the sculpture by Francesco Queirolo (1753-54) called Disillusion. A fine net carved from marble partially covers a carved figure. It represents the casting off of past sins and was dedicated to Raimondo di Sangro’s father, a reformed wanderer who returned home at the end of his life.

How the sculptor has achieved the extraordinary delicacy of the carving of the net over an equally detailed statue I cannot tell. It appears to be produced from one solid block of stone and my lower jaw fell almost to the floor in wonderment.

The third sculpture, Modesty, by Antonio Corradini (completed in 1752) is of a veiled woman. It is dedicated to the patron’s mother, who died when he was just one year old. The pose is classical and the whole an allegory to wisdom.

Lacking a classical education I hadn’t a clue about that, it’s what the guidebook said. But simply as a human being with blood in my veins the carving of the veil made my heart beat that much faster.

If you have the slightest chance to go to Naples in 2015 please visit this chapel. If you love stone, it will literally take your breath clean away and make your heart soar heavenwards. You need to see it to fully appreciate it but you can get a feel for it at www.museosansevero.it/en

Robert Merry, MCIOB, ran his own stone company for 17 years and is now an independent Stone Consultant and Project Manager. He is also an expert witness in disputes regarding stone and stone contracts. Tel: 0207 502 6353 / 07771 997621

Twitter: @treborstoneman