About this collection
Framed series for guest rooms. Museum prints, chosen and framed as sets of four to six, so that one floor or one room category hangs together. Not decoration bought by the piece — a series with a subject, a source and a wall label.
- Sold as a series — four to six sheets that carry a floor or a room category.
- One format, one frame — 40 × 50 cm (algae and Eight Views of the Parlour 30 × 40), matte black wooden frame, plexiglass instead of glass.
- Public domain, museum sources — every sheet names its collection and inventory number.
- True to scale — the original size is printed on the label; nothing is cropped to fit the frame.
- Giclée, twelve pigment inks — 200 gsm FSC fine art paper, white border.
- Wall label in every room — artist, work, year, collection, and a QR code to the sheet record.
- Repeatable — printed on demand, so a damaged sheet is replaced with the identical one.
- Delivered flat — sheet and frame ship together in one package and are assembled on site.
- Trade — priced per room, invoiced, sample sheet credited against the order. Trade terms →
Anna Atkins & Anne Dixon — ferns, 1853
What it is. Cyanotypes made without a camera: a dried fern laid on sensitised paper, exposed to daylight, rinsed in water. Anna Atkins had already published the first book in history illustrated with photographs; these sheets come from what followed, made with her friend Anne Dixon.
Why it works in a room. One white frond on a field of Prussian blue — nothing happens in the picture, which is the point above a bed. The five sheets differ only in the plant, so a floor reads as one decision rather than five. Five sheets, 40 × 50 cm.
Anna Atkins — algae, 1853
What it is. The seaweeds Atkins printed for Photographs of British Algae, 1843–53. Perhaps twenty-five copies of that book were ever assembled.
Why it works in a room. Smaller and denser than the ferns, and at the size Atkins made them — the right scale for a desk wall, a corridor bay or the space beside a bathroom door, where a large sheet would crowd. Five sheets, 30 × 40 cm.
Hiroshige — birds and flowers, 1830s
What it is. Ōtanzaku panels — tall, narrow sheets made to hang in the space between two posts. Hiroshige made hundreds of them; the snow in them is not painted but the bare paper, left unprinted.
Why it works in a room. Colour without noise: a flat ground, one bird, one branch. The narrow format suits the strip of wall beside a window or a wardrobe, and it carries a corridor when three hang in a row. Three sheets, 40 × 50 cm.
Hiroshige — One Hundred Famous Views of Edo, 1857
What it is. Hiroshige's last great series, made the year before he died: a plum garden, rain over a bridge, maples above a shrine, a cat at a window. Van Gogh copied two of them in oil.
Why it works in a room. These are weather and time of day rather than sights — a guest recognises the mood, not a monument. Strong enough for the wall a guest faces from the bed, and the four sheets tell a season each. Four sheets, 40 × 50 cm.
Suzuki Harunobu — Eight Views of the Parlour, c. 1765–66
What it is. Eight domestic objects standing in for the old Chinese landscape views — a floss shaper for snow on a river, a folding fan for clearing weather, a towel rack for returning sails. Among the first full-colour Japanese woodblock prints ever made.
Why it works in a room. Small, quiet, chūban sheets built for a room rather than a wall — a set reads as a private joke rather than a display. Five sheets, 30 × 40 cm.
Franz Michael Regenfuss — shells, 1758
What it is. A hand-coloured engraving of numbered shells from an 18th-century collector's folio, printed in Copenhagen.
Why it works in a room. The quiet counterpart to the coloured series — black and white on old paper, one sheet rather than a run. One sheet, 40 × 50 cm.
Hanging
Above the bed the picture group takes 50 to 75 per cent of the bed width; along a corridor the centres sit at 160 cm.