My owner, a lover of art and comic strips and a distinguished Tintin fan, had just acquired some original artwork by Hergé and was looking for a piece of furniture in which both to display and preserve his prize. He wanted it to be as beautiful as it was functional, believing (with every justification) that only one work of art can serve as a proper setting for another. No such piece of furniture existed? Never mind, James would devise one. And I must say, modesty aside, I am by no means unhappy that so much grace and genius is united in me. Not so surprising, really. For am I not, after all, a child of love: my owner’s love of art, my creators’ love of their craft, and humankind’s love of beauty?
An unusual request and only the finest execution would suffice to produce the travelling case for such a rare work. An original concept, a fine wood painstakingly selected – Japanese camphor wood, in this instance – unrivalled technical flair in both the cabinet-making and the wrought ironwork, flawlessly assembled into a piece of furniture, originally destined to house a work of art, that has itself become a work of art.