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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: 300 North State Street, Chicago, IL
ARCHITECT: Bertrand Goldberg
YEARS BUILT: 1964–1968
In the 1960s, the American city began to die. Not from bombs. Not from plague. From abandonment.
Millions of white, middle-class families packed their station wagons and fled for the suburbs. They called it "the good life." It was a retreat. The phenomenon had a polite name: "white flight." What it meant was simpler and crueler: the people who paid taxes, bought groceries, and kept the lights on decided that the city was no longer offering a good life.
Chicago's Loop was hollowed out. Civic leaders spoke of a "wave of anxiety" as the industrial base collapsed and the tax revenue vanished. Office buildings emptied after 5 PM. Streets went dark. The city was becoming a corpse, and the suburbs were feeding on it.
This is the crisis you need to understand before you can understand Marina City. Those two cylindrical towers on the Chicago River are not whimsical corncobs. They are not architectural novelties for tourists to photograph from the Riverwalk. They are a counterattack.
Bertrand Goldberg watched the exodus and refused to join it.
While his contemporaries carpeted the prairie with tract housing, Goldberg proposed something heretical: a vertical organism. Not a building. An organism. The distinction matters. A building is a container. An organism breathes, circulates, and regenerates. Goldberg believed the American city was dying because architects had forgotten the difference.
Here is the paradox at the center of his thinking. Goldberg studied at the Bauhaus. He apprenticed in the Berlin office of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, the high priest of the steel-and-glass box. And then he rejected everything his teacher stood for.
Mies gave the world the International Style: right angles, glass curtain walls, and the grid as a supreme organizing principle. Goldberg looked at those towers and saw what most architects refused to see: psychological slums. Beautiful, expensive, inhuman cages. He said it plainly: "No right angles exist in nature." He meant it as an indictment. If nature builds in curves, why do we force people into boxes?
The answer, Goldberg believed, was that architects had confused engineering efficiency with human need. The rectilinear grid was a Victorian industrial concept, a machine for stacking workers. It had nothing to do with how people actually live.
So, Goldberg used reinforced concrete rather than steel and glass. He shaped apartments like pie slices radiating from a central core. The relationship between a resident and the core was that of a branch to a tree, not a cell in a honeycomb. Every unit is curved. Every window looked out at a different angle than the one next to it. The building breathed.
Here is the part no one tells you.
Marina City was not built by a luxury developer. It was not funded by a real estate mogul or a bank. It was funded by janitors.
The Building Service Employees International Union, known simply as the Janitors' Union, invested $36 million of pension and welfare funds into the project. Their leader, William McFetridge, understood something most people missed: if the middle class kept fleeing to the suburbs, the demand for janitors, elevator operators, and window washers in downtown buildings would evaporate. No residents means no buildings to clean. No buildings to clean means no jobs.
This was not charity. This was not social housing. This was a survival strategy disguised as urban development. McFetridge was creating future demand for his own members' labor. By building a massive residential complex that would draw middle-class residents back downtown, the union was constructing its own economic future. Cold. Pragmatic. Brilliant.
The janitors saved the skyline. Sit with that for a moment.
Goldberg understood that the American city was dying from a disease no one had properly diagnosed. The city was used for only 35 hours a week. Workers flooded in at 9 AM, drained out at 5 PM, and the infrastructure sat empty the rest of the time. Roads, water mains, electrical grids, all of it subsidized by taxpayers for buildings that served no one after dark.
Long before anyone coined the phrase "15-minute city," Goldberg designed Marina City as a self-contained ecosystem. Two 65-story residential towers sat atop 19 floors of valet parking. A 16-story office building with an exoskeletal support system stood alongside. Below that: a theater and television studio (now the House of Blues), a bowling alley, an ice-skating rink, and a river-level marina.
You could live, work, eat, play, and dock your boat without ever leaving the complex. When Marina City opened, 80% of residents walked to work. Eight percent worked inside the complex itself.
Goldberg did not build an apartment building. He built a city inside a city.
The construction was a revolution in concrete.
Goldberg and lead engineer Hannskarl Bandel (who also worked on the St. Louis Arch) used slip-form construction for the towers' central cores. The process worked like this: concrete was poured into a continuously moving form that rose as it cured. One floor per day. The building rose from the ground like something alive.
The project introduced the first use of Linden climbing tower cranes in the United States. These cranes sat atop the 32-foot-diameter central core and climbed the building as it grew, rising with the structure they were constructing. The cylindrical shape was not an aesthetic indulgence. It was structural genius: round form reduced wind resistance to 30% of what a rectangular building of equal size would face.
Before pouring a single yard of concrete on the riverbank, the team built full-scale mockups of the pie-shaped apartments. They tested the layouts. They made sure the radical geometry actually worked for human beings living human lives. The form served the function. The function served the people.
Marina City was marketed as an "all-electric" marvel. This was the future, the advertisements promised. Modern kitchens. Individual climate control. No more steam heat controlled by a distant landlord.
The local utility, Commonwealth Edison, provided the building's heavy-duty transformers at no cost. This was not generosity. It was the largest marketing victory for the "Gold Medallion" all-electric home of the future. ComEd got a permanent captive customer base of thousands of units.
The hidden cost was simple: by making the complex all-electric, the developers transferred the infrastructure and maintenance costs of heating and hot water directly to residents. You gained control over your own thermostat. You also gained the bill. The centralized overhead that landlords had always absorbed became your individual responsibility.
Freedom and burden, delivered in the same package. The story of every modern convenience.
Marina City stands on the Chicago River today as the undisputed icon of the riverfront. Its silhouette appears on the cover of Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Steve McQueen drove a car off its parking deck in The Hunter. The complex received official Chicago Landmark designation in 2016, protecting Goldberg's vision from alteration.
But landmarks are not the point.
The point is this: in 1964, when every force in American life was pulling people away from the city, one architect and a union of janitors bet everything on the opposite idea. They bet that population density was not a problem to escape but a solution to embrace. They bet that curves were more human than right angles. They bet that a building could be an organism, not a cage.
You walk past Marina City today, and you see two round towers. Look closer. Look at the way the balconies spiral upward. Look at how the concrete curves catch light differently at every hour. Look at how the building meets the river, how the marina reaches into the water like roots.
Goldberg built a tree. Everyone else was building boxes.
The question is not whether Marina City succeeded. It did. The question is whether you are still living in a box and calling it home.
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