NEW YORK, NY.- Imagine that you have just purchased the most eye-catching painting you’ve ever seen. It’s a beauty, a canvas glittering with color and that special je ne sais quoi. To art collectors, there’s almost nothing better. But there’s nothing worse than placing your new masterpiece in the wrong frame.

“I’ve always believed that a painting would be better served by hanging it without a frame than the incorrect one,” says Eli Wilner, CEO and founder of Eli Wilner and Company, which specializes in period framing. "The colors, forms, and meaning of an artwork can be influenced drastically by a horrible frame.”

When we think about the aesthetic impact of a work of art, our focus often, and fairly, gravitates toward the work itself. Yet as Wilner’s comment indicates, how a work is framed plays a crucial role in how it is perceived, enjoyed, and even valued. That’s because a frame is more than decoration: It forms a bridge between the artwork and its surroundings, expanding its appeal and impact. For non-contemporary works, the stakes are even higher, because choosing the right frame isn’t merely a matter of aesthetics—it’s an act of historic preservation and storytelling.

A historically appropriate frame is more than an accessory; it is an artifact that communicates important details about the time and place of the artwork’s creation. Frames reflect the stylistic tendencies and cultural priorities of their time, serving as visual clues to an artwork’s origins. Consider frames from the Baroque era. During this period, artists and collectors favored heavily ornamented frames with intricate carvings—elegant scrollwork, carved acanthus leaves, and other opulent details such as gilded finishes—to mirror the grandeur of the painting it enclosed. Now envision replacing that with a modern, minimalist one. But it’s not only a visual mismatch; such a swap risks detaching the work of art from its historical roots. For collectors, curators, and historians, ensuring that a frame aligns with the period of the artwork is thus critical to maintaining its authenticity and preserving its integrity.

Since historical frames are valued for their aesthetics, it is not a surprise that they are often treated as artworks in their own right. This is especially true when an artist specifically designs a frame to house one of his or her own creations. These frames are conceived as an integral part of the artist’s creative vision rather than as an add-on. Italian Renaissance artists and architects like Raphael, Brunelleschi, and Donatello incorporated designs for frames into several commissions, either producing the framing elements themselves or outsourcing them to artisans (and those artisans, in fact, reaped the benefits: “The craftsmen were often paid much more than the painters, as the cost of gold and hours of labor were the determining factors,” Wilner notes). The inclusion of framing as part and parcel of a work of art, then, has been in the works for centuries.

The modern era saw a great uptick in interest in artist-designed frames. Beginning in the late 19th century, artists sought greater control over the presentation of their work, with the Pre-Raphaelite painters taking special interest in ensuring that their frames complemented, or even enhanced, their paintings. And they were not alone in this endeavor. Gustav Klimt, for instance, created works of art that reflected the concept of Gesamkunstwerk, or “total work of art,” a term that expresses an interest in combining art forms to provide a unified effect. To this end, Klimt often produced his own frames, like the Art Nouveau surrounds for his Judith and the Head of Holofernes (1901, Österreichische Galerie Belvedere, Vienna). Working alongside his brother Georg, a skilled artist in his own right, Klimt created gilded frames that echoed the shimmering gold leaf and decorative, swirling patterns of the painting itself. These frames weren’t mere borders; they were deliberate continuations of the visual language within the artwork, creating a cohesive and immersive experience for the viewer and enhancing its opulence.



Not every artist-designed frame was a luxurious or opulent one, however. Edgar Degas was a prolific frame designer, producing at least 40 surviving formulations during his career and having them manufactured to his
exacting specifications. Most often, those frames were rather simple: “a broad, flat panel bordered by a raised outer rail,” as described by curator Elizabeth Easton and framer Jared Bark in a 2008 article for The Burlington Magazine. With these simple designs, Degas endeavored to direct the viewer’s eyes to the work of art itself, taking into consideration such elements as the interplay of light across a painting’s surface and the composition’s complexity. A simple, flat frame would not cast shadows nor compete with the image’s narrative. (And he was rather serious about such dictums, taking extreme action if collectors disagreed. His dealer, Ambroise Vollard, recalled that Degas would confiscate his works from collectors after learning that they had been reframed.) Such artist-designed frames bring the visual experience of a work of art even closer to the artist’s original intention, allowing them even greater control of the viewer’s experience.

Sadly, though, many artist-made frames have disappeared over the years. “So few original artist-designed frames are still in existence, because they were replaced by curators, dealers, and collectors to better fit into a collection or, more often, to imbue a sense of importance,” says Indigo Nelson, frame designer at Bark Frameworks in Long Island City, NY. Such is the case of several works by Vincent van Gogh, who painted several of his frames to provide a cohesive visual experience. Today, only one of his works survives in this original state: his Quinces, Lemons, Pears and Grapes from 1887 (today in the Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam), which boasts a mustard yellow frame with olive undertones to match the painting’s color palette.

What happens in a case where an original historical frame—whether artist-designed or not—has been damaged, destroyed, or simply lost to time? This is where the efforts of frame reconstruction experts come into play. Trained in historical techniques and well-versed in art history, these experts manufacture new frames to align with works of art parted from their original housing.

In fortuitous situations, documentary evidence provides a clear direction forward. A recent example is Eli Wilner and Company’s 2011 recreation of the lost original frame for Emanuel Leutze’s monumental Washington Crossing the Delaware, from 1851 (today at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). This iconic American masterpiece had long been displayed in a frame that, while functional, did not match the historical weight or scale of the painting. Luckily, documentary photographs of Leutze’s work installed in an 1864 exhibition, rediscovered in 2006, showcased a spectacular and massive 19th-century frame, likely designed by Leutze himself. To return the work to the artist’s intentions, the Met’s curators hired Wilner and his team to produce a replica of the lost original. After several years of work, Wilner and Company constructed a colossal golden support, measuring 12 x 21 feet, that reintroduced a sense of grandeur and gravity befitting the painting. It not only enhanced the visual harmony of the artwork and aligned it with the artist’s vision, but it also deepened its connection to its original intended audience. The frame is “surmounted by an elaborate 12-foot-wide construction featuring an eagle, flag, pikes, and other regalia,” says Wilner. “The references [to patriotism and heroism] were readily understood by viewers at the time.” Today, visitors to the Met can witness Leutze’s painting as his contemporary audience did: awe-inspiring, grandiose, and glorious.

What happens when there is no documentation regarding an artist’s intentions for framing? All hope is not lost, though the planning stages might be a bit more intensive. David Beaudin, an emeritus framer for the North Carolina Museum of Art, recalls that the energies of a triple-threat team of experts (consisting of a curator, a framer, and a chief conservator) drove his historically-accurate projects. When a painting by Dutch master Pieter Aertsen, A Meat Stall with the Holy Family Giving Alms (1551), entered the NCMA’s collections, it was already regarded as a star object, but it lacked a frame. Creating a housing to suit the large, heavy panel was the ultimate challenge, bringing together “just about all of the research needs and skill sets pertaining to woodworking, gilding, carving, and proper art framing techniques that a frame conservator was expected to have on hand,” says Beaudin. The resulting piece showed off Aertsen’s painting wonderfully and housed it safely for an exhibition tour in Amsterdam soon thereafter. Still, historical re-creation can only go so far, in the eyes of some: when Dutch historians admired Beaudin’s handiwork, they commented that the frame was indeed lovely ... “except that the species of oak wood that I used for the main body of the frame was of a kind not found in northern Europe,” Beaudin laughs.

The relationship between a frame and an artwork extends beyond aestheticism—it has tangible implications for the artwork’s value and perception. “collectors and curators intuitively react to the proper frame and demand authenticity in framing,” Wilner avers. In response, auction houses, museums, and private collectors often prioritize historically appropriate or artist-designed frames, recognizing their role in maintaining the artwork’s authenticity and enhancing its market appeal. For instance, a Rembrandt painting in its original frame or a period-appropriate one typically commands a higher price than one with a mismatched or modern frame, because that frame contributes to the artwork’s provenance and authenticity, both of which are critical factors in the art market. Similarly, artist-designed frames can significantly increase the value of an artwork, as they represent the extension of the artist’s creative vision. By preserving the historical integrity of the artwork, the frame ensures that viewers encounter the piece as its creator intended.

As art collectors, buyers are relied upon to care for their artworks as best they can. In this light, we can understand the act of framing an artwork as a critical act of stewardship. “It is important to consider that your role in the lifetime of an artwork may be as a custodian, even if you plan to have it for your entire life,” says Nelson. “Whether you are framing family photographs or an original painting, the decisions you make in the preservation of the work will impact your own or someone else’s future enjoyment or access to a piece of history.” Far from being a peripheral element, the frame is a vital component of the artwork’s journey, one that deserves thoughtful consideration and appreciation. In the interplay between canvas and frame, we find an enduring dialogue between beauty, art, and history.

*This article originally appeared in Art & Object Magazine's Spring 2025 Issue