Chicago Athletic Association
Matted prints are a great option if you want to choose your own frame. They come in two sizes: 8x10" and 16x20". These are standard frame sizes. You may easily find these frames at any retail shop.
One thing you need to know about frames. Those cheap, thin frames with swivel locks and kickstands will not work. They are designed for simple photo prints or diplomas. The matted print will be too thick for these frames. Find a decent frame that is at least 1" deep.
I make every print myself in my studio. No photo lab. No outsourcing. Every print is handmade.
I print on metallic photo paper. It is the perfect paper for black-and-white architectural photography. It adds a distinctive pearlescent, three-dimensional sheen to the prints.
For mats, I use 4-ply Crescent Arctic White matboard. It is off-white, traditional, and restrained. Not bright white, which is too bright and overwhelms the image. This matboard is the archival standard for conservation framing.
I mount prints on 3/16" Bainbridge foamcore. It is acid-free, clay-coated, rigid, and lightweight. It is ideal for archival print mounting.
The print is permanently sealed between the mat and the mounting board. It is intentional. A hinge mount leaves the print too loose. Also, it causes the print to bulge in the middle. A sealed mount keeps the print flat and tight. If you need a hinge mount or a matboard backing instead of foamcore, let me know.
Every print is signed and numbered (limited edition) on the mat in pencil. On the back, you will find a Certificate of Authenticity with all the details about the print and my contact information.
The actual photo print size for an 8x10” matted print is 6x6” with a 1” mat border, and for a 16x20” print, it is 12x12” with a 2” mat border. Since the photo prints are square and the matted prints are rectangular, the bottom mat border for 8x10” prints is 2” and for 16x20” prints it is 6”.
A framed print is a finished artwork. It is not just the image, it is a physical object that looks intentional, lasts decades, and feels complete.
The frame color, finish, and moulding profile. Print mounting, matting, and glazing. These are all deliberate decisions that elevate the image to the level of an artwork, which you can hold in your hands, put on the wall, and live with every day.
I am a professional framer, and I enjoy making frames for my prints. I put a lot of thought into what frame to use for my prints. And how to mat, glaze, and mount them. And after decades of frame-making, I acquired the skills to make my prints perfect, exactly the way I want them. I am proud of what I do.
I make every print myself in my studio. No photo lab. No outsourcing. Every print is personally crafted by me.
I start with printing the image on one of my large-format printers. I use glossy metallic photo paper almost exclusively. It is the perfect paper for black-and-white architectural photography. It adds a distinctive pearlescent, three-dimensional sheen to the print. In a bright spotlight, it looks like a hologram.
For glazing, I seal the print with archival 5-mil PET film, featuring a unique, high-gloss “mirror-like” finish. There is only one manufacturer of this glazing, the price has doubled in recent years, and it is issued in small batches that sell out instantly. But the result is worth the trouble. It gives the print that elusive look of a silver gelatin print from a traditional darkroom, which was treated with a vintage photo heat glossier.
I have been a photographer all my life, and I still have my traditional darkroom. I can produce small silver gelatin prints, but large 44x44” prints are obviously out of reach with this old technology. I am happy that I can replicate that look and feel for the prints on any scale with the new technology I developed.
But this is my choice. If you prefer to use museum anti-reflective glass sheets, please let me know. I can do that, but the print prices may double (since glass is expensive), and delivery will be limited to Chicagoland only (because it is glass and it breaks in shipping).
I permanently mount my prints to white aluminum Dibond sheets using archival pressure-sensitive high-tack acrylic adhesive. It is not a simple process. I use a heavy 750-pound, 60” wide large-format laminator to complete this task. And it is the most dangerous and nerve-racking stage in the whole printmaking process. A tiny misalignment or a speck of debris on the surface can ruin the almost-finished print.
Finally, the print is ready for framing. Frame-making is where a woodworker meets an artist. It is a totally different set of skills, materials, instruments, and studio space.
Over the years, I developed relationships with several suppliers, and I get my frame moulding delivered by truck in large, long boxes. I believe my studio stocks more frame moulding than your average frame shop down the street.
I cut the moulding at 45 degrees using my mitre saw mounted on a custom 10-foot-long, heavy-duty feed bench I built long ago. I then join the cut sticks with a pneumatic v-nailer to make a square frame. Now the finishing touches: I sand and paint the frame corners to make them even and smooth.
Now it is time to put the print and the frame together. I secure the print inside the frame with flexible points and install the hanging wire (or D-rings for the large prints). I sign the print, attach the Certificate of Authenticity, and the print is ready.
Now, let’s talk about the frames I use for my prints. In my opinion, black-and-white photography does not require elaborate framing. A simple but sophisticated matte black frame is all that is needed. It is like the famous Audrey Hepburn’s "little black dress" designed by Hubert de Givenchy for the movie “Breakfast at Tiffany's”. It became iconic and has been described as "perhaps the most famous little black dress of all time." Accordingly, a “little black frame” is all that is needed for my prints.
For 16x16” prints, I use a simple 3/4” matte black frame, but it is 1 1/8” tall, which adds a touch of sophistication. It looks proportional to the relatively small size of the 16x16” print.
For 24x24” and 32x32” prints, I use the same style but a different profile frame. It is a wider 1 1/4" frame, which works for larger print sizes. And it is not as tall, only 7/8", which keeps the prints more grounded on the wall and less overpowering.
For large 44x44” prints, the frame design requires a totally different approach. Compared to smaller prints, the large print is a statement, it is a centerpiece of the room. It is a celebration, and the "little black dress" concept doesn’t work here. It needs a bit of exuberance. At the same time, it has to be constrained and confident. Like a Rolls-Royce brand identity.
To meet this challenge, I came up with a design of two different frames stacked together to form a unified frame for large prints.
The main frame is one of the most expensive frames I used, a custom frame made in Italy. It is 2” tall and 2” wide. It is a block, but it has a bevel on the inside. The beauty is in color, or to be precise, in color gradation. It is dark charcoal on the outer sides, which gradually transforms into a patina of silver leaf on the inner bevel through dark copper leaf on the front side. The beauty is that the gradation is not even, it looks painted by hand. It looks authentic, rustic, and antique.
The secondary frame is 1 1/8" wide, and it has a similar rustic, scratched, antique look, but it is pewter, which is almost the same color tonality as a photographic print it frames. It is more restrained than the primary frame and works well as a separator. Also, it has this chiseled, rough edge, another detail that adds authenticity to the whole frame.
I owe you a clarification about print sizes. The framed print sizes listed on my website (16x16”, 24x24”, 32x32”, and 44x44”) refer to the sizes of prints mounted on the board before framing. But with the frame included, the outside dimensions will be obviously larger. Also, because of the white space (1” or 2”) around the image to separate it from the frame, the actual print size is smaller. Here is the table with all dimensions:
| Framed Print | Outside Dimensions | White Space | Actual Print |
| 16x16” | 17x17” | 2" | 12x12" |
| 24x24” | 26x26" | 2" | 20x20" |
| 32x32" | 34x34" | 2" | 28x28" |
| 44x44" | 50x50" | 1" | 42x42" |
And here is the sample picture to explain the dimensions table:
These are the standard frame options I offer on my website. If you need a custom frame or print sizes, please reach out to me, and I would be happy to help.
A photo print is an option if you want to frame it yourself or have a frame shop you know and trust that will frame it for you.
A photo print is just a loose print that I will send to you in a shipping tube.
I make prints myself in my studio. I use glossy metallic photo paper almost exclusively. It is the perfect paper for black-and-white architectural photography. It adds a distinctive pearlescent, three-dimensional sheen to the print.
The prints are part of a limited edition. They are signed and numbered just below the print. The Certificate of Authenticity is enclosed with the print.
I offer on my website three different sizes for photo prints: 24x24”, 32x32”, and 44x44”. If you need a custom size print, please let me know.
Split print is a great option if you want to go big, really big, up to 10 feet or maybe even bigger. It is a great option for office lobbies and for any place with large, tall walls.
There is a little “behind-the-scenes” story about split prints. I used to offer 60x60” on my website, but it was a mixed bag. First of all, that was the maximum print size I could make because all the materials (backing board, glass, etc.) do not come in sizes bigger than 60x60”. That was the ceiling I could not break. Second, the shipping of these prints was a nightmare. They are big and had to be shipped freight in a crate (not cheap), and every second print I shipped came back damaged, with big holes poked by careless forklift drivers at the sorting facilities.
There had to be a solution to these problems. And I found it in split prints.
Split print is a square print divided into nine (3 by 3) or more smaller squares. 60x60” print becomes a set of nine 20x20” prints, and 120x120” print is a set of nine 40x40” prints. No frame is required for this print presentation, as these are acrylic prints.
Acrylic print is a print on metallic photo paper face-mounted on a 1/4” thick sheet of acrylic (with polished edges) and sandwiched for strength with a sheet of aluminum Dibond. It is a modern, contemporary way to present a photographic print.
Because these are relatively small prints, compared to the final result, they can be shipped on a palette, which eliminates the shipping damage I had before. Plus, they are not heavy, and one person can easily put them on a wall using cleat hangers.
The best practice is to leave about a 1/4" or 1/2" gap between the acrylic print tiles. Since the edges of the acrylic prints are polished and the acrylic is quite thick at 1/4", it creates an interesting optical effect like looking through water.
If you are in the Chicagoland area, I will get you in touch with an installation guy I trust and have used for years, and he will help you install the split print in your home or office.
Each fine art print is produced specifically for you.
From the moment your order is confirmed, your print enters a deliberate production process: printing, inspection, drying, mounting, framing, final quality control, and secure packaging for shipping. Nothing is rushed. Every step is completed in-house to ensure consistency, precision, and permanence.
For matted prints and 16x16” framed prints, the production takes 1-2 days. For large framed prints, it takes 3-4 days.
If you are in the Chicagoland area, the shipping takes only one day. Large prints, I will deliver personally. I will contact you to schedule a delivery date and time that is convenient for you.
If you are outside of Chicago, the shipping takes 2-3 days, standard UPS Ground transit time. Large prints will be shipped in a crate built out of lumber and plywood. To open it, you might need a screwdriver, there will be many screws to remove.
You will receive an email with shipping tracking information once your order is ready for shipping.
Because most of the work is handmade in the studio, minor variations are part of the object's character. The result is not a mass-produced item, but a permanent piece crafted with attention.
Split prints are the only option I outsource to the photo lab. But I guarantee the quality of the prints because they are made under my supervision. Delivery time for split prints is about two weeks, but it can vary depending on the scope of the project.
If you have a specific deadline, please contact me before placing your order, and I will do my best to accommodate your timeline without compromising quality.
Each work is produced to order and crafted individually in my studio. Because of this, my payment and refund policies reflect the seriousness and permanence of the object.
Payments
Full payment is required at the time of purchase to secure your edition and initiate production.
I accept major credit cards and other secure payment methods at checkout. Production begins once payment is received.
There is an option at the checkout for “Payment in Person”. Please use it if you want to reserve your print but need to customize it and are unsure of the exact price. I will email you the invoice, which you can safely pay on my website later.
Refunds and Returns
All prints are made to order. As such, sales are considered final.
I do not offer refunds for change of mind, incorrect size selection, or personal preference. I encourage collectors to review dimensions, framing options, and placement carefully before purchasing.
If your work arrives damaged in transit, please contact me within 48 hours of delivery with photographs of the packaging and the piece. I will repair or replace the work as appropriate.
In the rare event of a production defect, I will make it right.
Cancellations
Orders may be cancelled within 24 hours of purchase, provided production has not yet begun. After production starts, cancellations are not possible.
I stand behind the quality, craftsmanship, and permanence of every piece. If you have questions before purchasing, I am always available to assist.
ADDRESS: 12 South Michigan Avenue, Chicago, IL
ARCHITECT: Henry Ives Cobb
YEAR BUILT: 1893
Chicago in 1893 had a problem. Not a shortage of money. Not a shortage of muscle. The city had rebuilt itself from ash in twenty years. Railroads converged here from every direction. Grain moved through its elevators in quantities that staggered the imagination. The stockyards ran red. The steel rose. The wealth was real, enormous, and impossible to ignore.
But money is not culture. Power is not legitimacy. And Chicago knew it.
The great European capitals had centuries of accumulated civilization behind them: palaces, academies, cathedrals, museums. New York had its own borrowed grandeur. Boston had its claim to intellectual pedigree. Chicago had the stockyards and a reputation for brutality. It was a city that the world respected but did not admire. A city of function without form. Wealth without soul.
The question pressing on Chicago's titans in 1890 was sharp and urgent: how does a commercial empire declare itself civilized?
You build a Venetian palace on Michigan Avenue.
Not a Roman temple. Not a Greek monument. Venice. A city built by merchants on water. A republic that rose from a swamp and became the center of Mediterranean trade, culture, and power for five hundred years. A city that understood exactly what Chicago needed to understand: that commerce and beauty are not opposites. That a trading empire can build palaces. That you can count gold with one hand and carve stone into lace with the other.
The Chicago Athletic Association (CAA), completed in 1893, is the answer to the city's legitimacy crisis. Its facade on Michigan Avenue: pointed arches stacked in rhythmic rows, stone tracery so fine it looks carved with a needle, columns so slender they seem to defy gravity. It is not a building. It is a declaration.
The declaration reads: Chicago is not a provincial city. Chicago is a republic of trade and culture. Chicago belongs among the great cities of the world.
The World's Columbian Exposition that year looked to Rome and Athens for its neoclassical "White City." Daniel Burnham dressed Chicago's fairgrounds in the authority of the ancient world. But Henry Ives Cobb, the architect of the CAA, turned to Venice instead. That choice was not accidental. Rome speaks of empire and conquest. Venice speaks of commerce, craft, and the dignity of the merchant class. For the railroad barons, the retail magnates, and the industrial titans who funded the CAA, Venice was the right mirror.
Henry Ives Cobb was born in Massachusetts in 1859 and trained at MIT before arriving in Chicago in the 1880s, at exactly the moment the city was becoming a laboratory of architectural ambition. He was not a revolutionary. Louis Sullivan was the revolutionary, tearing architecture free from its historical references, reaching toward an American modernism that had no precedent. Cobb was something harder to categorize. He was an architect who believed that ornament was not a weakness. That beauty and history were tools, not handicaps. That a building could carry meaning in its skin.
His resume in Chicago was astonishing. He built the original campus of the University of Chicago. He built the Newberry Library. He left his mark on the city in stone and brick across dozens of commissions. But the Chicago Athletic Association may be his most psychologically revealing work, because here Cobb was not building for a public institution or an academic body. He was building for power. For men who needed their gathering place to announce exactly who they were.
The founding members were not modest men. Marshall Field had built a retail empire that redefined American commerce. Cyrus McCormick had mechanized agriculture and altered the shape of human labor. A.G. Spalding had turned sport into an industry. These were men who had already remade the world once. They needed a building that knew that.
Cobb gave it to them. And then he did something that stopped being merely architectural and became genuinely strange. Above the eighth floor, hidden in the limestone facade, he carved sporting equipment into the stone: rackets, nets, balls, golf clubs, the instruments of elite competition worked directly into the Gothic ornament. The building is a palace, yes. But it also winks at you. It hides its true purpose inside its borrowed grandeur.
Look at the Doge's Palace in Venice, and you see it immediately: the same stacked arcades, the same rhythm of pointed arches, the same principle of surface as ornament rather than bulk as authority. The Doge's Palace was Venice's seat of government. It communicated power through beauty, not through mass. Cobb translated that principle to limestone in Chicago. He made a building that earns its authority through intricacy rather than size.
Inside, the building did what all palaces do: it created ritual. Members entered through grand staircases. Dark carved wood paneled the rooms. Stained glass colored the light. Marble floors spread beneath gilded ceilings. There were gymnasiums and fencing halls, billiard rooms and dining rooms, luxurious suites for overnight guests. The Cherry Circle Room ceiling, still intact today, is one of Chicago's hidden masterpieces: gilded ornament so dense and particular that you have to stop and simply look at it.
The building also trained champions. Johnny Weissmuller, who would become Hollywood's Tarzan after winning five Olympic gold medals, trained in the first-floor pool known simply as "The Tank." On the fourth floor, in a gymnasium called Stagg Court, Amos Alonzo Stagg helped develop the rules of the five-man game that basketball would become. The first professional football payment went to a player with connections here. The club's red-encircled "C" emblem would eventually be adopted by William Wrigley Jr., who took it for the Chicago Cubs in 1917. A private symbol of exclusivity became a public roar of the stadium.
And in the room behind the wall, there was the Milk Room. During Prohibition, members gathered there and drank whiskey served as milk. When restorers tore open the drywall in 2012, they found the original wooden bar still standing, likely dating to the 1930s, waiting in the dark. Power has always made its own rules. The CAA just made sure those rules had beautiful rooms to live in.
The building closed in 2007. It seemed finished. Another relic of the Gilded Age, stripped of its purpose, standing on Michigan Avenue with nowhere to go.
But limestone does not apologize. And this particular limestone had something to say about patience.
The building reopened in 2015 as a hotel after a three-year restoration that recovered 18,000 square feet of ornamental plaster, 26,500 square feet of marble and mosaic floor, 82 art glass windows, and 151 hand-molded plaster stalactites recreated from the 1893 originals. The Italian Carrara marble floor of the White City Ballroom, buried under layers of glue and concrete, came back. The Cherry Circle Room came back. The Milk Room came back.
The old pool, where Weissmuller once trained, is now an event space. The squash court floors are inside the elevators. The keycards show photos of former members and champions. And on the ground floor, where the Turkish baths once steamed, there is a Shake Shack. It is the only Shake Shack in the world that delivers to hotel rooms above it. The masculine fortress became public. The private palace opened its doors. The elite enclave belongs to the city.
That is what Cobb built. Not a clubhouse. Not a gymnasium. A building with enough architectural conviction to outlast the men who paid for it, the era that made them, and the exclusive ideology that drove every stone into place.
Stand in front of the building. Stand on the sidewalk on Michigan Avenue and look up at those pointed arches. Look at the tracery. Look for the golf clubs and rackets carved into the limestone above the eighth floor. Find them. They are there.
You are looking at what ambition looks like when it is honest about what it wants. Not just money. Not just power. Beauty. Legitimacy. A place in history that no one can take away.
Chicago built that in 1893. It is still standing.
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