Someone wove this tapestry by hand, panel by panel, in the years when a single hanging could take a workshop the better part of a year. It spent its first life on the wall of a French château, until the day it came down and a careful pair of hands saved the best of the weaving and wrapped it around a chair instead. The frame is 19th-century French oak, the tapestry a good century older, the two brought together with a border of brass nails. Sylvie gives it the head of the table, the chair you save for the person worth listening to.
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