In the spring of 2022, I found myself in Helena, Montana, restoring wood graining in a beautiful historic home known as the Remington House. Located on Helena’s famous Mansion Mile, the home is one of those places that immediately makes you stop and appreciate the craftsmanship of another era.
I was told that Mr. Remington made his fortune supplying food and provisions to miners and their families during Helena’s gold rush years. Whether the story is completely accurate or not, the house certainly reflects the prosperity of the period. The woodwork, staircase, trim, and wainscoting all speak to a time when craftsmanship mattered and details weren’t overlooked.
My job was to recreate the missing grain patterns and blend the repairs seamlessly into the surviving original work. Looking at the finished doors, staircase, and wainscoting today, it is difficult to tell where the damage once existed.
Wood graining has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. Some of my earliest memories are watching my father create beautiful grain patterns on doors and trim. Years later, I had the opportunity to study under Mike McNeil, a master decorative painter who trained under William “Bill” Holgate, one of the most respected wood grainers of his generation and a Freeman of the City and Guilds of London.
Mike taught me far more than techniques. He taught me patience, observation, discipline, and respect for the craft. Before he passed away, he gave me the cufflinks he had received when he was inducted into the Guild. They sit in my studio today and serve as a reminder of the standards I try to uphold every time I pick up a brush.
For this project I used a combination of traditional graining tools, including steel combs, a rubber rocker, triangular combs, duplex combs, and check rollers. Once the grain patterns were established, I softened and blended the details using a badger brush to create a natural appearance. The finish was then protected with an oil-based satin polyurethane tinted with a few drops of umber to create a subtle aged patina.
The result brought the woodwork back to life.
The homeowners were thrilled with the restoration, and their little dog, who regularly stopped by to supervise my work, seemed to approve as well.
What made this trip especially memorable, however, was everything that happened outside of the project.
A few months before taking this job, I had traveled to Italy to study scagliola under Maurizio Feliziani in Oriolo Romano, a small town about forty minutes north of Rome. Scagliola is one of the traditional decorative arts used to create incredibly realistic imitation marble. I spent my time in Italy studying the techniques, history, and craftsmanship behind the art form.
Imagine my surprise when I walked into the Cathedral of Saint Helena and found myself standing among beautiful scagliola columns.
There was something almost funny about it. I had traveled thousands of miles to Italy specifically to study the craft, only to find examples of it sitting quietly in a cathedral in Helena, Montana a few months later. Most visitors were admiring the stained glass windows and soaring Gothic architecture. I found myself studying the columns.
The cathedral itself was stunning and easily one of the most impressive buildings I visited during my stay.
This wasn’t my only trip to Helena, either. Over the last several years I have returned to the home multiple times. During one visit, significant water damage had affected some of the traditional plasterwork. The homeowners had difficulty finding anyone locally with experience repairing historic plaster, so I returned to restore those areas as well.
One of the things I enjoy most about traveling for projects is exploring after the workday is done.
Many evenings I would simply walk through town looking for a good place to eat and taking in the history of Helena. I visited the Montana State Capitol, explored old mining structures, and spent time hiking around Mount Helena and Bear Gulch Canyon. The scenery was incredible. Wide-open skies, rugged mountains, and endless views made it easy to understand why Montana is called Big Sky Country.
One evening I found myself standing in front of the bronze cowboy statue at the Capitol grounds, admiring both the sculpture and the history it represented. Everywhere I looked there seemed to be reminders of the region’s mining heritage and frontier past.
I spent hours sorting through gravel searching for Montana sapphires and was fortunate enough to find several nice stones. Later, I had them made into a bracelet.
Collecting bracelets from my travels has become a tradition for me. Every bracelet tells a story. Some remind me of people I’ve met. Others remind me of places I’ve visited. The sapphire bracelet from Helena reminds me of this project, the history of the Remington House, the beauty of Montana, and a few days spent digging through gravel hoping to find something special.
The Remington House project was about much more than restoring wood graining.
It was about preserving a piece of history. It was about honoring the craftsmen who came before us and continuing traditions that have been passed from one generation to the next. It was also a reminder that some of the best experiences happen when you take the time to explore the places your work brings you.
When I think back on Helena, I remember the historic home, the beautiful cathedral, the mountains, the old mining structures, the sapphires, and the people I met along the way.
Most of all, I remember being grateful that a trade I learned as a young boy watching my father paint doors has allowed me to travel the world, restore historic buildings, and experience places I otherwise might never have seen.