The box has a new skin. Mirrored hexagons set into the painted faces, the pattern tight in the middle and dissolving towards the edges, so the whole of that reception now happens twice. The stained glass dome, the arches, the people: all of it lands on the work and comes back.
A black plaque with a gold roundel went up alongside. Moderate Realism, it reads. Two evenings of fitting, checking reflections, refitting.
At night, under the lights, the box stops being an object and becomes a lens.
Part of The Palace Hotel Commission.