The Art of Mount-Making: How Custom Fabrication Protects and Presents Artwork
- robyn180
- Dec 19, 2025
- 9 min read
Emily Brannan was standing in the back room of the Fontainebleau Resort in Las Vegas with a problem. More objects were arriving for the installation, mounts needed to be made on the fly, and she didn't have her full shop at her disposal. No vise to hold pieces while she bent wire around them. No proper workbench. Just a torch, some tools, and a rolling toolbox.
So she improvised. Table legs became forms for bending wire. She soldered on top of the toolbox. She worked slowly with pliers where she'd normally use a vise, finding everyday objects that could serve as tools. "It's all of that on-site travel work where you really start to..." she pauses, searching for the word. "Be resourceful."
This is mount-making. Not just the technical fabrication of supports for artwork, but the problem-solving, the adaptability, and the deep understanding of materials that make it possible to protect and display art properly—even when conditions are less than ideal.

What Mount-Making Actually Is
Most people walking through a museum don't notice mounts. That's the point. A good mount holds an object securely, distributes its weight properly, and essentially disappears from view. But getting to that invisible support requires substantial expertise.
Mount-making sits at the intersection of fabrication, conservation, and design. You're creating custom supports for objects that might be centuries old or brand new, fragile or robust, conventionally shaped or completely irregular. Each one requires different materials, different techniques, and different considerations.
At Denali, Emily handles mount-making for museums, galleries, and private collections. Sometimes that means brass wire mounts for delicate ceramics. Sometimes it's powder-coated aluminum stands for contemporary sculpture. Sometimes it's foam forms for textiles or acrylic supports for paper. The materials and methods shift based on what each object needs.
The Process: From First Look to Final Install
Emily's process always starts the same way when possible: a site visit to see the actual objects.
"It's always good to do a site visit," she explains. "Just to see in real time the objects that you're working with. That's always best. This is an ideal situation because it's not always like that."
When she can see the objects in person, she's looking at shape, weight distribution, material, and condition. A photograph might show you what something looks like, but it won't tell you how the weight sits, where the balance point is, or if there's damage that affects how it needs to be supported.
During that first meeting, she talks with clients about the visual direction for the show. This matters more than you might think. For the Vegas project, all the mounts were black because all the casework was black. For a job at the Middle American Research Institute at Tulane (MARI), the approach was completely different—custom color-matching each mount to its artifact to make them as invisible as possible.
"That's an important beginning conversation because that also trickles into mount design," Emily notes. Once you know the visual goals, you can start determining what type of mount each piece needs.
From there, she takes measurements and develops mount designs. These are hand-drawn sketches showing how the mount will support the object.

The real test comes when everything goes into the case. Sometimes clients see the installed work and want adjustments. "That's happened before," Emily says. "Which is also just part of the whole process." Because until everything's in place—multiple objects in one case, lighting installed, the full visual context established—it's hard to know exactly how it will all work together.
Materials Matter
Once a project has the go-ahead, Emily will source and order her materials - each chosen for specific properties and conservation standards.
Brass is her go-to for many applications. Brass rod and sheet in varying thicknesses can be shaped into what she calls "spider mounts" and "T-mounts"—supports that use thin wires to hold objects with minimal contact points. The material is strong enough to support significant weight but thin enough to be visually unobtrusive.
"For brass wire mounts, like spider mounts and T mounts, I'll make the mounts ahead of time and make the wires a little bit longer than I know they need to be. And I won't bend them until I'm doing an on-site fitting with the object there," she explains. This approach lets her measure exactly where bends need to happen based on the object's actual shape, then adjust on-site. It also leaves room for error—if you overwork a wire and it snaps, you have time to fix it before paint.
Aluminum with powder coating is another favorite, particularly for larger or heavier pieces. The aluminum is lightweight and easier to work with than steel, and the powder coating provides a durable, archival-quality finish without the off-gassing concerns of paint.
For textiles, she uses Ethafoam in various forms—flatform mounts, specialized shapes for hats or clothing, or working with Dorfman dress forms when garments need to be displayed on mannequin-style supports.
Paper items or books often get L-mounts—simple aluminum brackets that hold works without putting pressure on the item itself. These might be combined with archival materials like museum board or Mylar strapping for additional support.
Other materials in regular rotation include felt, suede, polyolefin shrink tube (for padding brass wire so it doesn't contact the object directly), archival double-sided tape, and B72—an acrylic resin used in conservation.
"The material that you make a mount with is all about supporting the object properly and also being the least invasive to the object and also being discreet because you don't want to see the mount," Emily summarizes.
The Balance: Structure Meets Aesthetics
One of the trickiest aspects of mount-making is finding the sweet spot between structural requirements and visual goals.
Take weight distribution. You might look at a ceramic figure and think a simple wire support under the arms would work fine. But Emily's thinking about what happens over time. "You don't want to put too much pressure on an object because that can cause damage in the long term," she explains. "So you want to do the best distribution of weight for an object as possible."
If a mount is positioned wrong or made from material that's too heavy or inflexible, it could potentially indent the object, cause a crack, or create stress points that lead to damage years down the line.
Material condition adds another layer of complexity to mount-making. Historical objects might have chips, cracks, or areas of deterioration that affect where you can and can't place support. Contemporary works might use unconventional materials that react differently from traditional media. You need to understand not just what the object is made of, but what its vulnerabilities are.
This is why Emily values her background working for jeweler and metalsmith Sherry Simms-Vucenovic during her undergraduate years. "I have a lot of experience with soldering," she says, and that technical foundation helps her understand how metals behave, how joints hold, and how thin you can make a support before it becomes inadequate.

When Things Don't Go As Planned
Back to Vegas. Emily had made mounts before on museum jobs, working carefully in Denali's shop with all her tools available. Vegas was different.
The timeline was tight. The crew was working in a space still under construction. And as often happens with installations, more objects kept arriving that needed mounts fabricated on the spot.
"There were more objects coming in while we were putting the show up, and so I had to bend wires on the fly and solder on top of the rolling toolbox in the back room of the Fontainebleau," Emily recalls.
Without a vise—the tool that normally holds pipe or rod steady while you bend wire around it—she had to slow down and work more carefully with pliers. She used whatever was available as improvised forms. "I was using table legs... you just have to find..." She trails off, then continues: "It's all of that on-site travel work where you really start to be creative and think on the fly."
That resourcefulness—the ability to adapt when you don't have ideal conditions—is part of what makes an experienced mount-maker valuable. Theory and technique matter, but so does the confidence to solve problems in real time with limited resources.
The Fitting Process
Even with careful planning, mounts need to be fitted to objects before they're finalized.
Emily typically makes the mount structure first, deliberately leaving wires longer than necessary or leaving certain bends incomplete. Then comes the fitting session—placing the actual object on or in the mount to see how it sits, where adjustments need to happen, whether the support points are correct.
"I can have the object measure exactly where I need to make bends based on the shape of it, and then I'll bend the wires on site," she explains. This prevents the common problem of building something that looks perfect on paper but doesn't quite work with the real object's quirks and irregularities.
After fitting, mounts go back for finishing—painting, powder coating, or whatever surface treatment the project requires. Then comes installation, which is its own careful process of measuring inside casework, positioning objects according to the exhibition layout, and working closely with curators and designers who might want to make last-minute changes when they see everything together.
"I try to set things out without drilling any holes or anything, just in rough placement, have them look at it, and then continue," Emily says. Because once you've drilled mounting holes in a plinth or casework, changes get more complicated.
Change Might Cost You
What happens when design changes are made post-installation?
"Every once in a while, there's some tape that lets loose if you got a flat object," Emily notes about post-installation maintenance. But the bigger challenge is when objects get moved to different cases or positions after mounts have been made for specific locations. "That happens all the time," she says.
An object might be too tall for its new case, or the spacing doesn't work anymore, or the lighting creates different visual requirements. Each change can mean a new mount or significant modifications—and potentially change orders that affect the budget.
"It's important to have your exhibition fleshed out if you don't want extra charges for change orders," Emily points out. She also emphasizes the importance of accurate measurements. "It’s essential to get the interior measurements for casework - not the exterior measurements - as there can be a big difference between the two!”
She's talking from experience. The measurements you need are inside the case where the object actually sits, not the outside dimensions of the casework itself. It seems obvious once someone says it, but it's the kind of detail that gets missed more often than you'd think.
When You Need Custom Mounts
So when does a project actually need custom mount-making versus off-the-shelf solutions?
The answer, according to Emily, is whenever an object doesn't fit standard approaches. Contemporary artworks using mixed media. Sculptural pieces with irregular weight distribution. Historical objects with condition issues. Anything going into a traveling exhibition that needs to be stable through multiple installations. Collections where visual consistency matters and every mount needs to relate to the overall design scheme.
Museum professionals know to budget for this. Private collectors sometimes don't realize it's necessary until they're trying to figure out how to display something beautifully and with conservation in mind. "A lot of times, it's just simple like fabric wedges to keep something from being tippy," Emily explains. "Pottery and those kinds of things." Even something that seems straightforward might need custom support to prevent slow damage over time.
The MARI project at Tulane is a good example. Ancient ceramics and stone metates (grinding tools) that needed to be displayed safely. Each piece required individual assessment, custom mounts designed and fabricated for its specific shape and weight, and color-matching so the supports wouldn't distract from the objects themselves.
That level of attention is standard for museum work, but it applies just as much to private collections or gallery installations. The difference is whether you're working with someone who understands these requirements from the start or educating clients about why proper mounting matters.

The Craft Behind the Scenes
Mount-making isn't glamorous work. It doesn't get featured in exhibition catalogs or mentioned in gallery opening speeches. Most viewers never consciously notice it at all.
But it's essential. Every object in every exhibition sits on or in a mount that someone designed, fabricated, and installed. When it's done well, the art looks effortless—perfectly positioned, safely supported, visually unencumbered by the mechanics holding it in place.
When it's done poorly, you get accidents. Objects that tip. Supports that damage what they're meant to protect. Installations that look awkward because the mounting solution drew attention to itself instead of disappearing.
Emily came back from the New England Museum Association (NEMA) conference energized by conversations with other practitioners who care about getting these details right. She'd just presented on a panel about mounting unusual objects—the kind that don't come with a playbook. "Making connections with other museum professionals was invaluable," she reflected. "Understanding the full development of an exhibition is always helpful, even when mount-making comes in as one of the final steps." That kind of collaboration—between mount-makers, conservators, and designers—is what makes challenging projects possible. It's also what reminds Emily why this behind-the-scenes work matters so much.
If you've got objects that need proper mounting—museum collections, private installations, gallery exhibitions, contemporary artworks that don't fit standard approaches—we'd love to talk through what's involved. Emily's usually the one who'll walk you through options, explain materials, and figure out what your specific pieces need.
And this is what's at the core of mount-making: understanding each object as an individual challenge and building the support it needs to be displayed safely and beautifully. Even if that means soldering on top of a toolbox in the back room of a Las Vegas casino.

Planning an exhibition or installation that needs custom mount-making? Get in touch. We'd love to hear about your project.
Want to read more about the museum standards that inform our work? Check out our recent post about Emily's presentation at the NEMA conference.
This post is part of our Shop Talk series, where we pull back the curtain on how art fabrication and installation actually work. Want more insights like this delivered to your inbox? Join our mailing list.
