In an 18th-century Parisian apartment, surprises lie in wait. Lift the lid of a hat box and find cogs, cables, mirrored skies. Part the covers of a book and meet a chorus of stenciled stars. A humble drawer slides open onto bronze moons and studded constellations — small geometries pressed by hand into paper, hidden room by room, household by household. The French called them papiers dominotés. Centuries on, Dominote conjures them back: burnished bursts of pattern, marvels from the secret places of the past.