Photographs fade. Fired enamel doesn't. We paint the face you love into glass on silver or solid gold — by hand, one commission at a time.
MINIATURE ART
An art older than photography.
The finest portrait miniatures were painted in vitreous enamel — mineral color fused into metal in a kiln. It is why pieces painted four hundred years ago sit in museums today, their color unchanged.
That is the tradition we work in — painted for your pocket, your collarbone, your hand.
TWO WAYS TO HAVE IT MADE
For the moment, or for generations.
FOR THE MOMENT
950 Silver
From $329
A birthday, a graduation, a first year together — or no occasion at all. One piece, painted for one person, that nobody else will ever have. Finished in polished silver or warm 18K gold, and in your hands in about six weeks.
FOR GENERATIONS
Solid 18K Gold
From $2,000
Enamel on solid gold is how miniatures survive centuries. For the memory your family should still be holding a hundred years from now — painted, fired, and made to be handed down. It begins with a $150 design fee, credited in full toward your piece.
WHATEVER THE REASON
- For the friend at your feet. The dog, the cat, the horse, the whole personality — painted from your favorite photo while they're busy being themselves.
- For the one you'll always carry. Still part of the family. Made gently, at your pace, from the photo you keep going back to.
- For the day you said yes. Proposals, vows, anniversaries — the bouquet, the place, the date, painted before the details blur.
- For the mountain you moved. The degree, the recovery, the year you got through — some wins deserve more than a photo on your phone.
- Or for no reason at all. A flower, a color, a tiny painting because tiny paintings are a wonder. The story can start later.
THE CRAFT
No printing. No resin. No shortcuts.
Mineral pigment, ground and painted by hand under a microscope, onto silver or gold. Then into the kiln at 1,470°F (800°C), where the color fuses into the metal — layer by layer, firing by firing. A single piece may enter the fire a dozen times.
Silver melts at 1,760°F. There are fewer than three hundred degrees between making a piece and destroying it — and the kiln does not tell you which happened until you open it.
Painted the way it was five hundred years ago.
COMMISSIONED WORK
One of one, every time.
A photo, a few words, an idea. Every piece here started as one of those.
A horseshoeluck, fired into glass
Ragdollpainted onto a signet the size of a fingernail
A Siamese in a beretpainted exactly as serious as she thinks she is
Two Pomeraniansbow ties on the face, paw prints around the band
