Swabbing away the varnish in the basement

When one is reading a work of fiction not specifically concerned with art conservation or conservators, one sometimes comes across a casual description that seems to set back the public image of the field by decades. The most recent one I encountered came early in Michael Cunningham’s 2010 novel, By Nightfall. Peter, an art dealer, mulling over his career, says to himself : “He’s an art history guy, maybe he should have become …what? … a conservator, say, one of those museum-basement people who spend their lives swabbing away the varnish and overpaint, reminding themselves (and eventually the world) that the past was garish and bright…”    With all of the thoughtful coverage that conservation projects have received in the popular press,  hadn’t we thought that the field had once and for all come above ground in the public’s mind .

“The Da Vinci Question”

The article of this title, by Jo Ann Caplin, published in the Spring 2011 issue of the popular science magazine “Chemical Heritage” (The Magazine of the Chemical Heritage Foundation), explores the question of whether the small portrait on vellum known as “La Bella Principessa” is a work by Leonardo da Vinci. Caplin discusses how conservators and art historians have interpreted multispectral images of the work in their consideration of its attribution.

The Watts Towers, Sturdy Survivors

A recent article in the Wall Street Journal revisits the Watts Towers.  We learned last summer that LACMA has a contract to oversee the conservation of the iconic Watts Towers, but this article by Arnie Cooper starts at the beginning, introducing the Towers’ eccentric artist, Simon Rodia, and speaks with conservation scientist Frank Preusser to uncover details about the construction and ornamentation.  The following is an excerpt:

Rodia worked with no plans or drawings and certainly no permits. He didn’t use nails, bolts or even a simple drill. In the 1957 documentary “The Towers,” made by William Hale, Rodia can be seen bending a piece of steel on the nearby railway tracks. According to Mr. Preusser, Rodia used “everything” to build the structure, including water pipes, chicken wire and welded mesh. “He’d put steel bars together, add some wire mesh and tie it to the structure, put cement around it and then add the ornaments.”

Amazingly, though, the towers are structurally sound, as proved during a much-publicized load-bearing test in 1959. A winch truck exerted a 10,000-pound pull on the tower—to no avail. The structures even withstood the 1987 Whittier and 1994 Northridge earthquakes, with only a slight tilting of one tower noticeable.

“Considering its age and the way it was constructed and the materials used, it’s in remarkably good condition,” says Mr. Preusser, who first got involved with the project back in 1984.

Not that the towers don’t need some work. This involves, says Mr. Preusser, “not only restoring Rodia’s original artwork, but also addressing the three major past restorations.”

Rodia used mostly found or “borrowed” objects as structural elements. The shiny green bottoms of 7-Up bottles figure prominently here. And since Rodia was a tile cutter and setter, visitors will note several specimens from the Malibu Tile company, as well as numbered tiles that had once been catalog material. They’ll also encounter china fragments of every possible shape and color, sea shells, cooking utensils, mirror pieces and larger forms like mortar “gardens,” “the ship” and hearts fashioned out of concrete. There’s even a wall made of slag and frit, the raw materials for making glass.

Ms. Anderson draws our attention to the tower floor, which features lacy designs courtesy of the backs of wrought-iron chairs. Thanks to Rodia’s experience with cement, such impressions extended to the walls, one of which includes imprints of Rodia’s simple tools: a set of wire clippers and various hammers, all artfully assembled amid hose-nozzle “flowers” and the artist’s initials.

“Some of these impressions are still pristine,” says Mr. Preusser, pointing to a wall displaying the pattern left by a straw mat. “This is why we’re saying the state of conservation is still remarkable. Rodia knew how to make a good cement.”

 

 

Conservator works to save Hollywood’s Batsuits

The insidious danger comes from below. Liquids oozes up to wreak havoc on a foundation that seemed solid, but now suddenly cracks with fissures that spiral out of control. Malicious gases rise and permeate, damaging everything in their path. No, this is not part of some super-villain’s diabolical plot to destroy Gotham or Metropolis, but there are heroes in danger in this scenario. I’m Ron Barbagallo talking about the impending peril that I thwart daily while preserving Disney animation cels and other art made with painted plastic materials. I am the art conservator and director of Animation Art Conservation, and for nearly 25 years (along with my partner in all things chemical, conservation scientist Michele Derrick) I’ve worked to protect Walt Disney animation cels, as well as other motion-picture artifacts such as Tim Burton’s painted plastic puppets or the on-screen Batman suits, from further degradation.
The costume of Batman has lived in the public imagination since the Franklin Roosevelt administration, has stayed close enough to that original color scheme and overall profile that fans of any age know the hero when they see him on the page, on the screen or ringing the doorbell on Halloween. What has changed, here in Hollywood, is the cloth and thread which the hero wears on the screen. In the movie-serial years, filmmakers translated comic book drawings with stitched fabric but in recent decades there has been a new array of materials – specialized plastics poured into molds, for instance, have given Gotham’s caped crusader a pliable body armor. It’s an understanding of those plastics where a new conservation expertise comes into play.

Read the complete article by Ron in The Los Angeles Times: Hero Complex feature.

Per Knutas restores a Van Gogh with an audience watching

From the WKRC Cincinnati website with a few minor edits for clarity:

Children on a trip to the Cincinnati Art Museum today saw a kind of artistry they probably didn’t expect to see. Work is now underway to restore one of Vince Van Gogh’s last masterpieces.

“Is it really a Van Gogh?” The young visitor to the Cincinnati Art Museum asks the man looking through a microscope that surgeons use. The chief conservator is working on one of Van Gogh’s last great masterpieces, needing the tool for the detailed, precise work.

Per Knutas, Chief Conservator at Cincinnati Art Museum: “When you see under the microscope, vigorous brush strokes, it’s fun to see how he built up the painting.”

The Dutch post impressionist painter is known for the vivid colors in portraits and landscapes. But in the 70’s an old technique used to protect the painting, Undergrowth with Two Figures, left wax in Van Gogh’s brush strokes.

“The wax was clear, but over the years has become milky and obscures the intended colors of the painting.”

Per Knutas usually works in a back room. But the combination art historian and chemist is on display so visitors can watch on a projection screen, as he uses a soft brush to apply a solvent, then a stick to carefully scrape the wax buildup away.

“To bring back the intended colors, it’s not just important to the art world. This is the way the artist intended it to be.”

“I started today, guess how long it will take… a day?”

The young visitors guess …a day…20 hours? Knutas will work until July 31 to get the painting back to the way Van Gogh wanted us to see it. The work is so detailed, it does not go on all day.

You can check the art museum’s website for the times, which will usually be between 2 pm and 5 pm.

Conservator works to save Hollywood’s Batsuits

The insidious danger comes from below. Liquids oozes up to wreak havoc on a foundation that seemed solid, but now suddenly cracks with fissures that spiral out of control. Malicious gases rise and permeate, damaging everything in their path. No, this is not part of some super-villain’s diabolical plot to destroy Gotham or Metropolis, but there are heroes in danger in this scenario. I’m [Ron Barbagallo] talking about the impending peril that I thwart daily while preserving Disney animation cels and other art made with painted plastic materials. I am the art conservator and director of Animation Art Conservation, and for nearly 25 years (along with my partner in all things chemical, conservation scientist Michele Derrick) I’ve worked to protect Walt Disney animation cels, as well as other motion-picture artifacts such as Tim Burton’s painted plastic puppets or the on-screen Batman suits, from further degradation.

The costume of Batman has lived in the public imagination since the Franklin Roosevelt administration, has stayed close enough to that original color scheme and overall profile that fans of any age know the hero when they see him on the page, on the screen or ringing the doorbell on Halloween. What has changed, here in Hollywood, is the cloth and thread which the hero wears on the screen. In the movie-serial years, filmmakers translated comic book drawings with stitched fabric but in recent decades there has been a new array of materials – specialized plastics poured into molds, for instance, have given Gotham’s caped crusader a pliable body armor. It’s an understanding of those plastics where a new conservation expertise comes into play.

Read the complete article by Ron in The Los Angeles Times: Hero Complex feature.

Tsunami Survivors Seek Japan’s Past, in Photos

Excerpt from an article in The Wall Street Journal that demonstrates just one example of the importance of things and why conservators are so passionate about their life’s work.

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The March 11 tsunami that devastated Rikuzentakata, a small seaside city in northern Japan, wiped away thousands of homes and left 2,000 residents dead or missing. As it swept away a community, the tsunami surge also carried off its memories, stockpiled on photographic paper and catalogued in albums.

As search crews recovered bodies in the weeks following the disaster, they also collected what waterlogged family albums and muddy pictures they found scattered within the rubble. Volunteer groups have since embarked on the tedious tasks of drying, cleaning and organizing hundreds of thousands of photos.

“When they thought they had lost everything and something like an old picture reappears, we think it will give them strength to move forward,” said Tatsuya Hagiwara, a volunteer with the National Research Institute for Earth Science and Disaster Prevention.

In a scene resembling a flea market, organizers spread out albums, yearbooks, diplomas and other keepsakes across a parking lot on the edge of town. A crowd quickly gathered, many seeking pictures of family members and friends who numbered among the dead and missing.

A yelp rose from the crowd. “That’s me!” shouted Etsuko Kanno, showing a picture of a young woman in a wedding dress. The bride, laughing, covered her mouth with a white-gloved hand.

Ms. Kanno – now a 51-year-old grandmother, who arrived at the parking lot with her one-year-old granddaughter asleep on her back – said the picture was taken 26 years ago at a photo shop in neighboring Ofunato. The photographer, she recalled, snapped the picture without warning her.

“This was the happiest moment,” she said, gripping the picture. “But this is only a picture of me. I wanted a picture of my husband.”

The man she married a few days after that picture was taken died in the tsunami. The powerful waters swallowed their home, where he was spending a day off from work with his 83-year-old mother, who also died.

Pictures of her three daughters, grandchildren and husband were washed away with the rest of their possessions.

“I want something on paper that I can look at,” she said. “I looked around and found nothing.”

When volunteers began tackling the photo cleanup several weeks ago, they started with a wet clump of snapshots. They laid the pictures out to dry. They dusted dirt from individual photos with paint brushes, and wiped plastic album sheets clean with damp rags.

The process was time-consuming and imperfect. Only about 10% of the recovered photos, some still damp and covered in dirt, were displayed last week.

People who found photos belonging to them filled out a form and took the pictures. Organizers said they may take the rest of the photos by truck to the 65 different evacuation centers across the city.

For group photos, the National Research Institute for Earth Science and Disaster Prevention, one of the organizations leading the volunteering, plans to scan the pictures digitally and upload the images to the Internet. The group is working on a project to archive photos along with tsunami-related information from Rikuzentakata and nearby towns.

Archaeological objects: looted treasure or culutral discoveries?

This article in the Wall Street Journal, by Melik Kaylan insightfully discusses ever-changing perspectives of museums and the stories they tell about vast collections of objects.

Dura-Europos: Crossroads of Antiquity, a exhibit currently running at McMullen Museum, inspires a discussion of museum theory using and exhibiting cultural material to explore history and society. Here is the concluding sentence.

“Though it features, among other things, the best example of a Roman armor-suit ever found, this is not a show about rare objects of great value. Rather, it illustrates moments of consciousness in history, including the moment of the excavations to illustrate how the world then chose to digest its own ancient history. Between the World Wars, the revelations of Dura-Europos were valued largely as contributions to the history of art, illuminating the bridge between Classical and Renaissance aesthetics. The show’s present-day curators invite us to consider how their preoccupations (and ours) have changed. They focus on the successful cross-pollination of cultures at Dura-Europos, how Greek, Jewish, Parthian, Roman and Christian cultures synthesized and abided in harmony. A Sassanian helmet with a nose guard demonstrates how Romans learned from other cultures: They added a nose guard to their own helmets. The Palmyran temple frieze shows how a Roman general worshiped with local pagans. The curators prod us to view the ancients through our contemporary concerns: in a word, multiculturalism or diversity. In the study of archaeology, they seem to say, we see what we look for. It never goes out of fashion.”

Frank Lloyd Wright’s Hollyhock House is about to undergo another restoration campaign

From the Los Angeles Times:

For its 90th birthday, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Hollyhock House is getting another round of rejuvenating restoration work, with the partial makeover priced at $4.3 million.

The project is the third phase in the ongoing restoration of Hollyhock House – the first two phases, from 2000 to 2005, cost $21 million, mainly to repair damage from the 1994 Northridge earthquake and stabilize the Barnsdall Park hillside fronting Hollywood Boulevard.

Some of Hollyhock House’s geometrically patterned stained-glass windows will be sent out for special restorative cleaning, and the porch’s concrete floor, installed during a 1970s renovation, will be replaced by oak that matches the original 1921 floor trod by Wright’s client, Aline Barnsdall.

The work list also includes repairing cracks in two fountains on the grounds, which could pave the way for them to be refilled with water for the first time in years – although Herr says that the entire project budget may be used up on the house itself, leaving it to future fundraising to provide for the fountains’ revival.

Inside, the project aims to better anchor the living room fireplace that’s one of Hollyhock House’s hallmarks, in hopes of preventing damage in future earthquakes. Also on the agenda is re-adjusting the Modernist stone mural above the fireplace, which shifted slightly in the 1994 quake, according to a consultant’s report. Herr said an engineering report he received Wednesday had some good news: The ground under the fireplace is solid, rather than loose dirt that would pose a high risk of giving way in a quake and causing it to topple. Leaving the fireplace as-is remains an option. Herr said there’s no plan to refill the indoor moat that surrounds it, because water vapor would be harmful to furnishings.

The California Cultural and Historical Endowment has provided $1.9 million from a grant fund created by a bond issue voters approved in 2002; Herr said the city tapped a variety of capital-project funds to come up with the required match. The project coffer also includes a $489,000 “Save America’s Treasures” grant from the National Parks Service.