Makrana White Marble Pierced Jali Tealight Lantern, 12in

The lantern

A square-plan lantern, twelve inches tall, closed by a fluted dome and set on a lotus-petal moulded plinth. Each of the four upright faces is cut through as a jali screen: a cusped arch in the centre, and a fine lattice of quatrefoil openings filling the field around it. Nothing here is applied ornament — the pattern is the wall itself, drilled and filed away until only the ribs of stone remain. Put a tealight inside and the piece changes character. Unlit it reads as a small marble pavilion; lit, the openings turn to warm points and the arch throws its outline outward, so what lands on the wall behind is a carved pattern rather than a glow. It is the effect a chhatri screen gives a Rajasthani courtyard at dusk, brought down to table scale.

Jali work, cut by hand

The jali — a pierced stone screen — is one of the oldest devices in Rajasthani and Mughal building, used at Fatehpur Sikri and across Jaipur to filter glare and move air without closing a room off. Carrying it into a twelve-inch object is a patience problem rather than a strength one. The sculptors we work with mark the grid on the face, drill each opening as a pilot hole, then open the shape with fine files and riffler tools, working from both sides so the edges stay crisp where the light will read them. The ribs between openings finish only a few millimetres thick, and that is where the stone will crack if the sequence is rushed. The arch profile, the dome flutes and the petal course on the base are all finished by hand.

Why Makrana marble suits a lit piece

Makrana comes out of Nagaur district in Rajasthan and has been quarried there for centuries; it is the stone of the Taj Mahal, and what recommended it then recommends it here. The grain is fine, crystalline and calcite-dense, so a thin rib holds its edge instead of sugaring away under the file. It is also translucent — light entering the stone travels a short way inside before scattering back — so the ribs between the openings glow faintly rather than standing black against the flame. The surface is taken to a soft satin polish instead of a mirror: a mirror would bounce a hard specular dot off the flame and flatten the carving, while satin holds a slow gradient across the dome. Faint grey hairline veins run through the white, and they are the stone, not a flaw in it.

Living with it

The lantern takes a standard metal-cupped tealight, and the dome lifts clear so the light can be set on the floor of the piece and lit without reaching through an arch. On a console or a mandir shelf it holds its own alone; on a dining table, a run of three at staggered heights reads better than a single one in the middle. Keep it on a stable surface away from curtains and let a wick burn out rather than moving the piece while it is hot. Soot will mark the underside of the dome over time — wipe it with a soft dry cloth, never with a lemon or vinegar cleaner, which etches marble. An LED tealight throws the same pattern if it is going somewhere it will be left unattended.

Making it yours

The design scales. The same jali cut at nine inches gives a pair for a mantel; at eighteen it becomes a floor lantern for either side of a doorway. The screen pattern can change too — a star-and-cross grid, or a plain arch with the field left solid for a quieter piece — and it can be made in Vietnam white marble for a cooler, brighter white. A matching pair is worked together so the two screens mirror each other. Tell us the size and the shelf it is going on, and we will design it around that.