Author: Rebecca Rushfield

In a May 12, 2017 New York Times article by Mike Ives ( “Quake Propels Competing Visions for Restoring Myanmar’s Temples”) about what should be done to restore the Buddhist temples in Bagan, Myanmar—many of which have a checkered conservation past, he notes that the archaeology department has made the decision not to rebuild damaged spires. U Thay Zaniya, a monk is quoted as saying, “In our Buddhist tradition, not having a top on a temple is like having a person without a head. It’s a disgraceful sight.” If the Buddhist position has equal validity to the archaeology department’s position, is there any way that these two seemingly opposing philosophies can be reconciled?

In the April 25, 2017 issue of The New York Times, Christopher Mele writes about the plan by the city of New Orleans, LA to dismantle and move four monuments dedicated to the Confederate era and its aftermath (“Dismantling a Monument, Under Guard” ) because their presence as civic monuments was offensive to many people. At some point, they will be erected in a new location and placed in historical context .They could not be left as is, but as site specific works of art that have been removed from their sites, they have been damaged in some way. From the conservation point of view, there is no easy answer to the question of what should be done with offensive civic monuments.

In the April 6, 2017 issue of The New York Times, Rod Nordland wrote about the project to restore Kabul, Afghanistan’s destroyed Darulaman Palace, a 1919 building that combined neo-classical with Moghul and other eastern influences (“Saving Pockmarked Palace (Only Afghans Need Apply“). The project is funded by the government of Afghanistan and all of the people leading and working on the project are Afghani. President Ashraf Ghani has called the project “an exercise in national pride”. The work that the conservator does may be apolitical, but conservation decisions and choices can be political.

According to a story in The Wall Street Journal about the quest of David Steel, Curator of European Art at the North Carolina Museum of Art, to locate a missing panel of Francescuccio Ghissi’s “ St. John Altarpiece” so that he could exhibit the complete altarpiece (“How an Art Curator Solved a 600-Year-Old-Mystery” , by Jessica Barrow Dawson), when he was unable to find it, he turned to mathematician Ingrid Daubechies and conservator Charlotte Caspers to reconstruct it. Daubechies used computer-based mathematical algorithms to figure out the crack patterns and fading that were to be incorporated into the new panel, and used reverse algorithms to produce images of the other eight panels as they might have looked when newly painted. It’s quicker and less costly to restore paintings using algorithms. Might this be the future of paintings restoration?

Elisabeth Povoledo, writing in the March 28, 2017 issue of The New York Times (“Streetlight Fight Breaks Out in Rome: Golden Glow vs. Harsh White LED”) notes that the city of Rome is replacing its yellow sodium streetlights with cheaper and more environmentally friendly white LED lights and that residents are complaining that the new bulbs have changed the atmosphere of the city. Among other things, the LED lights throw harsh shadows on building reliefs and sculptures set into niches in walls. These complaints are a reminder that how architecture or art is lit affects its appearance –sometimes in ways that are physically damaging, but at other times in ways that are aesthetically damaging.

According to the March 21,2017 issue of Hyperallergic, on Saturday March 18th, a man with a screwdriver damaged a Gainsborough painting in the National Gallery London (“Thomas Gainsborough Painting Gauged at London’s National Gallery” by Benjamin Sutton). The National Gallery spokesperson is quoted as saying, ““The painting was removed from display and examined by the Gallery’s conservators. The process of consolidating the pigment layers in the areas affected by the scratches began immediately. The preliminary reports suggest that the damage can be repaired relatively easily and the picture should be back on the wall shortly.” I understand the desire of the institution to calm the public and play down the seriousness of such an incident. However, even minor conservation work requires skill and knowledge. If this treatment was no big deal, why couldn’t anyone who fancied himself or herself a restorer have done it and why do conservators work so hard to separate themselves from untrained restorers.

The other day, while looking at a high end life style magazine, I came across an advertisement with the words “erased heritage” printed across what looked to be a destroyed Persian carpet. I thought it might be an advertisement for a museum exhibit on the destruction of cultural heritage. Looking at the small print, I saw that it was an advertisement for Jan Kath’s “Erased Heritage” carpet collection . These hand knotted carpets made from the finest silk and dyes feature traditional Persian designs but incorporate visual effects resembling stomped texture, scribbled scratches, fading, bleeding colors, and fungal infestation which make them look like ruins of formerly glorious selves. I find the process of creating such visual effects intriguing, but the glorification of destruction disturbing.

According to Randy Kennedy writing in the Saturday March 4, 2017 issue of The New York Times (“Trying to Pin Down The Smell of History”), Jorge Otero-Pailos, director of historic preservation studies at Columbia University and his students are working with Christine Nelson, a curator of manuscripts at the Morgan Library and Carlos Benaim, a master perfumer at International Flavor and Fragrances to sample the molecules “off gassed” from the objects in the rooms of the Morgan Library & Museum buildings in order to characterize the smell profile of each. While there are no plans to create a “Morgan Library scent”, it is not inconceivable that one day scent may be used to enhance the visitor experience. I know that this project has a connection to the conservation of physical objects. I’m struggling with how to articulate that connection. Perhaps it has something to do with preserving authenticity.

According to an article in the “Mansion” section of the February 17, 2017 issue of The Wall Street Journal (“Japan Returns to its Design Roots”, by Lucy Alexander), young Japanese and foreigners are starting to purchase traditional handcrafted homes (“minka”), dismantle them, and rebuild them (with modern amenities) in other locations. Many of these houses were abandoned and left to rot, so the new owners are saving them from destruction. However, as the houses were built to sit in specific sites – often far from where they have been re–erected— isn’t there an aspect of this that is akin to moving a site specific sculpture?