Trono delle Vetrate

I sign the Trono delle Vetrate wallpaper the way one signs a promise made to a child: with the same seriousness with which a true fairy tale is told. The drawing shows a throne room seen frontally, symmetrical and solemn: a high seat on its dais, covered by a pointed canopy, flanked by two arched windows burning with coloured glass, slender columns rising to a beamed ceiling from which long heraldic banners hang, and a chequered floor climbing in steps towards the throne.

It belongs to the style we call Ricerca Araldica, built entirely from cut and torn paper, flat fields of gouache, every shape a single decided colour, the fibrous white edge of the paper left alive along each outline. Closed, confident outlines keep the whole legible from a distance; lions and stars, pierced quatrefoils, banner fringes reward those who come closer. Only four heraldic notes — crimson, royal blue, warm gold, parchment cream — on a pale ground, each with its own area, never blended into its neighbour.

There is, in this room, the idea that every child is sovereign of a small kingdom: a room where growing up is already a feat worth telling. In the flat light crossing the stained glass I wanted the same welcoming calm one looks for in a child’s room, with no shadows to frighten, no edges that get lost. In the atelier we choose every cut-out and every glaze with the care WallZad reserves for the rooms where dreams still take shape: the Trono delle Vetrate wallpaper is born like that, sheet after sheet, as a private heraldry for whoever will live in it.