The Story Behind This Mirror
A wide crest is a balancing problem. Spread acanthus too far and the frame looks top-heavy; keep it too tight and the mirror reads as a plain rectangle with a decoration stuck on. So the carver sets the crest out full-scale against the plate size first, and only then starts cutting - the composition is decided before any wood is removed, because pierced work cannot be revised.
The foliage is worked in layers. The ground is established, then one tier of acanthus is lifted away from it, then another, so leaves genuinely pass over and behind one another instead of being scratched onto a single plane. The waste between the layers is then pierced right through, which is the point of no return - the frame is now mostly air, and every remaining rib has to carry the glass. The beaded inner border is cut last and is the fussiest run on the piece: a single bead out of rhythm shows from across a room. Then hand-sanding through progressive grits, gold laid in coats and rubbed back at every raised leaf tip, and the bevelled plate fitted at the end.