Recycling: Nineteenth Century style!

I would like to show you an unusual crucifix that hangs on our wall.  Made in the Nineteenth Century, it was purchased in Austria.  

We were told it was made at a monastery - which may or may not be true, although I don’t see why not.  When purchased the whole thing was coated in a thickish layer of old dust (the sort of dust that has been there so long that it has 'set') and required some careful cleaning.

Here it is:

This photograph was taken by Kirk Dale.

 As you can see, from a distance it appears to be a fairly usual religious devotional object, with somewhat crude trefoils on each of the points.

But take a closer look and what you find is most unusual.

This photograph was taken by Kirk Dale.

The figure of Our Lord is of a fairly standard design common in the 'Victorian' period.   It is made of that porcelain we call parian ware.  The beauty of this product was that you could pour it into moulds as you would with wax.  This meant that it was easy to mass produce solid items such as this Crucified Christ. 

It is the crucifix itself however that is interesting - from an artistic point of view.  The trefoils have been made separately and nailed onto a form.  The whole is made from many pieces of wood that have been carefully nicked along the edges by hand:

This photograph was taken by Kirk Dale

The pieces have then been laid in such a way that they rise up in ridges, each one having been carefully cut and shaped so as to fit perfectly atop the one beneath, exposing layer upon layer of sculptured edging.  The finished item has then been painted with a brown stain.

When you turn the Crucifix over you find another interesting thing:

This photograph was taken by Kirk Dale.

As you can see, the entire piece appears to have been made out of recycled wooded boxes.  The spine of the Crucifix is made out of a box lid that has been cut down the middle.

It reads: 'Innominata' and underneath is printed ‘Littera G’.  Innominata is Italian for the word ‘unknown’ or so I believe, and this is similar to our English word ‘innominate’ or ‘nameless’.

(I am not the best of photographers but I have tried to show you what the lid would have looked like in one piece.)

I wonder what this box contained.  I was thinking at first that it might have been cigars because of the oblong shape of the lid but really it could have been anything.  Was Innominata a company or a product?  Was Littera G. actually 'the Letter G' or someone's name as in Jones F?

And this isn't all:

A part of the crucifix arm (made of a different type of wood) reads: ‘Colorado 100’ and ‘Colorado Claro 100’.  Colorado is Spanish for ‘coloured red’ and ‘claro’ means ‘clear. If this is the correct meaning for these words then I wonder what arrived in that box that was coloured red and labelled in Spanish?
Wine?
I have no idea but it is interesting to speculate.

This Photograph was taken by Kirk Dale

So,

A box presumably from Italy, and a box presumably from Spain, end up in an Austrian Monastery and are recycled by someone who saw them and thought: "I could make a jolly nice Crucifix out of those!"

Over one hundred years later, and that same Crucifix (having survived two World Wars and whatever else might have happened along the way) is purchased by yours truly and taken to Germany; with its ultimate destination (for this leg of its journey) being the marvellous city of Melbourne.

And then . . . ?