The Story Behind This Mirror
A lattice is a test of patience. It is made almost entirely of holes, and every hole weakens what is left. The carver marks the trellis out geometrically on seasoned teak, then removes the waste opening by opening, working slowly enough that the thin ribs between them never split. Get the grain direction wrong on a single rib and the whole border has to be started again. This is why the frame is cut from carefully chosen boards rather than whatever is on the rack.
The crest is a separate discipline. The urn is turned and then carved - fluting cut into the body, a gadrooned lip, and above it a spray of flowers shaped individually from the solid so each bloom sits at its own angle rather than in a flat row. The swags are carved as continuous runs so the laurel leaves overlap naturally and the ribbon looks like it is hanging rather than drawn. Once carving is closed the whole frame is hand-sanded through progressive grits, then the gold is laid in coats and rubbed back by hand across the raised trellis ribs, the paterae and the urn lip, so the finish looks like a piece that has been in a family rather than one that left a spray booth last week.