After I completed my formal education, I took up woodworking as a hobby and pursued it passionately for seven years. However, life intervened with the birth of my second child, and I had to set aside the craft. Sixteen years later, I found time to return to an unfinished woodworking project (chest of drawers) I had begun nearly two decades earlier. To my dismay, I discovered that I had forgotten much of what I once knew.
In order to reacquaint myself with the craft, I needed to work on some simple projects. Given my wife’s expertise and passion for oil painting, making picture frames seemed like a natural choice.
As my woodworking skills improved, I became intrigued by the artistic potential of frames. Could a picture frame move beyond its traditional role of simply presenting/enhancing the painting?
As I delved deeper into making picture frames (and other things), I decided to see how far I could push the boundaries of frame design. My goal was to design frames that would be unique, might be considered “art” in their own right, and/or precipitate a conversation between the viewer and the frame. I also became less concerned whether my frame enhanced the painting – fully aware that this path would engender the ire of most/?all painters.
Does the Picture Frame Matter?
Ultimately, this led me to ask: Is a frame merely a silent servant to the art it surrounds—meant to heighten the image and then vanish from our awareness? Or can a frame be something more?
Is it permissible for a frame to:
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- be considered a work of art in its own right?
- attract the viewer’s eye away from the painting?
- surpass the painting’s visual impact and become the object of contemplation?
- challenge or alter the artist’s intended message?
- spark a new idea, stir an emotion, or provoke an epiphany?
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Is it reasonable to build the frame first—and then invite the artist to create the artwork?
To explore how a frame can shape perception, I digitally inserted Pablo Picasso’s 1955 drawing of Don Quixote into each one. Although the frames vary in size from 12″ × 12″ to 24″ × 36″, the component images have been resized to appear at a consistent scale.
So, I ask again: Does the frame matter?
- Which frame best honors and enhances Picasso’s vision?
- On its own merits, which frame feels more powerful, more evocative, more true?
- Does a frame alter your perception of Picasso’s Don Quixote—and if so, how? Is this good or bad?
- Is it heresy—or revelation—if the frame refuses to fade into the background?
Hayward Zwerling
7 January 2025, revised 4/27/2025