Cloud Gate Michigan Avenue Reflection
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: 201 East Randolph Street, Chicago, IL (inside Millennium Park)
ARCHITECT: Anish Kapoor
YEARS BUILT: 1999–2006
Chicago has always announced itself through structure. Steel frames. Right angles. Towers rising in disciplined rows from a flat grid beside a flat lake. The city's identity was vertical, rational, and unambiguous. Louis Sullivan built here. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe built here. The skyscraper was invented here. Chicago does not whisper. It rises.
So when the most iconic object in downtown Chicago turned out to be a seamless, mirrored oval that hides every bolt, every weld, every structural rib inside its skin, that told you something important. Not about the object. About the city.
Chicago built a monument to illusion. And it took a dentist's chair to make it happen.
Richard M. Daley was sitting in his dentist's chair in the late 1990s when he looked up at the light overhead and decided Chicago needed to think bigger. Below his office window, the northwest corner of Grant Park was an eyesore: abandoned rail yards, surface parking lots, industrial land severing Michigan Avenue from the lakefront. The plan on the table was modest, practical, and sensible. A park over the railroad tracks. Some landscaping. A garage underneath.
Daley killed the modest plan.
What Chicago built instead cost $475 million. It included Frank Gehry's Jay Pritzker Pavilion, the BP Pedestrian Bridge, Crown Fountain, and at the center of it all, the sculpture that would change how the city saw itself. Chicago has a long tradition of civic decisions made at scale: reversing the river, building the lakefront parks from landfill, erecting the first steel-frame skyscrapers. The dentist chair story fits that tradition perfectly. A mayor. A light shining from above. A decision to build not just a park but a permanent act of civic ambition.
When people questioned the cost overruns, when newspapers mocked the delays, Daley held. He understood something essential: monuments do not look necessary until they exist. After they exist, you cannot imagine the city without them.
In 1999, the Millennium Park Art Committee chose between two finalists. Jeff Koons proposed a functional playground slide, 150 feet tall, with a 90-foot observation deck and an elevator. Anish Kapoor proposed a 33-foot-tall elliptical mirror he called “Cloud Gate”, inspired by the visual properties of liquid mercury.
The committee chose Kapoor.
Koons wanted to build something Chicago would look at. Kapoor wanted to build something Chicago would look into. The distinction sounds subtle. It is not. One gives you a monument. The other gives you a question.
Kapoor was born in Mumbai, raised partly in England. He thinks in metaphysical terms. He described “Cloud Gate” as a portal, a threshold between ground and atmosphere. He wanted the sky to enter the city. He wanted the object to dissolve into its surroundings. He named it “Cloud Gate” because it is a gate: mortal on one side, clouds on the other.
Chicago renamed it immediately.
Chicagoans looked at the sculpture during construction, saw the elongated oval shape, and called it The Bean. They still call it The Bean. Kapoor called the nickname "completely stupid" but eventually accepted it as a sign of the sculpture's democratization. He is not entirely wrong about either reaction. The Bean is a bad name for a philosophical object. It is also the only name that fits Chicago's plainspoken sensibility. The city that named its elevated train the "L" was never going to call a sculpture “Cloud Gate”.
Here is the paradox: both names are correct. Kapoor's name tells you what it does. Chicago's name tells you what it is. An object can be a portal and a legume simultaneously. Only in Chicago.
The engineering is where the story gets brutal.
The sculpture is made from 168 individual plates of stainless steel, each shaped using a custom three-dimensional roller, each adjusted until it was within 0.01 inch of the computer model. The plates were welded together on site. The total weight is 110 tons. The surface area covers approximately 2,500 linear feet of welded seams.
Kapoor demanded that no weld seam be visible. None.
In 2004, Millennium Park opened. “Cloud Gate” stood in the plaza with visible seams and unfinished sections. The public could see exactly what Kapoor had insisted must disappear. Newspapers attacked the delays and the ballooning costs. The budget for the sculpture alone reached $23 million. Critics called it an over-budget experiment.
But the polishing could only be done on site. You cannot transport a seamless 110-ton mirror. The illusion can only be perfected in place. When the final polishing was completed in 2006, the seams vanished. The object became liquid. The controversy ended.
Time resolved it. Time always resolves it. The question is whether you held your nerve long enough.
Beneath the gleaming surface, the engineering is extreme. The sculpture sits above active Metra rail lines and a parking garage. Chicago's temperature swings from minus 20 degrees Fahrenheit to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, and stainless steel expands and contracts significantly across that range. If the internal frame and the outer skin moved at different rates, the surface would buckle, and the mirror effect would be destroyed. Engineers solved this with 32 custom suspension units and spring-loaded connectors, creating a floating shell that allows the skin to move independently of the internal steel rings and trusses underneath.
The engineering disappears entirely behind perception. What remains is pure reflection. This is the deepest Chicago achievement: extreme industrial discipline producing something that looks like it fell from the sky.
Walk under it. Look up.
The concave underside is called the omphalos, from the Greek word for navel. In antiquity, the omphalos marked the center of the world. Here it marks the center of the plaza, the center of the city's self-image, the place where reflections fragment into kaleidoscopic geometries and multiply until you lose count.
You are standing in a metallic cave. The city curves above you. Your own face appears dozens of times in the distorted surface. The skyline, inverted, wraps around itself. Towers you have walked past a thousand times appear as curved silhouettes bending toward each other. You see yourself inside Chicago.
This is what Kapoor understood and what the Art Committee understood when they chose his proposal over Koons. You do not visit “Cloud Gate”. You become part of it. The sculpture is incomplete without you in it. It needs people the way a mirror needs a face.
Chicago architecture has always asserted itself. Sullivan's ornament asserted beauty. Mies's glass towers asserted rationality. The Hancock Center asserted structure, with its diagonal bracing visible on the exterior for everyone to see. These buildings say: look at what we built.
“Cloud Gate” says something different: look at yourself, inside this city.
That is a different kind of civic statement. Not strength through height. Identity through reflection.
The sculpture is designed to have a contractual service life of 1,000 years. It will outlast the current skyline. The towers that curve across its surface today will be replaced by towers that do not yet exist, and those too will curve across its surface, and the omphalos will still fragment them into geometries that defy expectation.
Kapoor called it “Cloud Gate”. Chicago called it The Bean. Both names will survive. The object itself will survive longer than either name, longer than the controversies about costs and delays, longer than the newspapers that mocked it, longer than the mayor who ordered it built from a dentist's chair.
Go stand under it. Let the city curve around you. Let your face multiply in the omphalos until you lose track of which reflection is the original.
You are standing inside Chicago. You are part of what the city sees when it looks at itself.
That is the gift.
Choose options