In the last BPG session of this year’s AIC meeting, “global conservation” took on a whole new meaning. Maria Gabriela Mayoni, a conservator of cultural heritage from the Colegio Nacional de Buenos Aires, Argentina, delivered a lavishly illustrated lecture concerning the conservation of a papier-mache globe and its support. This globe, manufactured in Germany in 1850 and bearing site labels in French, belongs to the Department of Geography of the Colegio Nacional and illustrates the European influence on Argentina during the nineteenth century–a period of nation-building and economic development. At some point in the past, the rare globe was seriously damaged in an accident: a large section was crushed, a portion of the papier-mache sphere was lost, and the support rings were deformed. The varnish coating the globe had also darkened and discolored, making the labels and land masses hard to read. The area representing Argentina had been overpainted, perhaps to keep up with changing geopolitical boundaries.
Mayoni described the complex structure of the globe, which included a papier-mache sphere with outer layers of cast composite, paper labels, paint, and varnish. This globe was mounted on a wooden axis, fitted with metallic rings, and placed on a stand made of iron and wood. All of these elements were addressed during the comprehensive conservation treatment of the globe.
Prior to beginning treatment, Mayoni and her colleagues analyzed the materials present on the globe with FTIR, and the results were consistent with an oil and natural resin varnish. This was cleaned with a mixture of water and ethanol, which was applied carefully to avoid disturbing the water-sensitive inks on the printed labels. After the varnish had been reduced, the conservators split the globe into its two original halves. Inside, they discovered labels containing information about the globe’s manufacture, including a date decades earlier than they had anticipated. The crushed portions of the globe were humidified and reshaped, and the losses were filled with a vinyl acetate adhesive and long-fibered paper. After the sphere had been mended from the inside, the two halves were reassembled, and the join was reinforced with cotton fibers. A combination of animal glue and calcium carbonate was used to fill the losses in the topographical relief. The deformed metal rings were reshaped, polished, and given a protective coating. The wooden elements of the stand were also reshaped as necessary to return the globe to usefulness.
Mayoni noted that the varnish selected during treatment will have to be replaced in a second conservation campaign. The reassembled sphere was varnished with a soft synthetic resin soluble in white spirits. Harder, solvent-soluble resins were rejected because the solvents used to reverse them would have affected the inks on the labels. However, the soft resin has become yellow and grimy since it was applied. After further testing, it will be replaced with something more durable and colorfast.
The globe is once more in use in the Geography Department of the Colegio Nacional de Buenos Aires, where the students and faculty learn the importance of preserving their cultural heritage as well as their place on the map.
Ted Stanley wrapped up the Book and Paper Group sessions on Friday, May 11, with his presentation about the authentication and analysis of a 16th-century Mesoamerican map belonging to Princeton University Library. The map was believed to have a c. 1550 creation date, and depicts a portion of the central valley of Mexico at the time of the European conquest. Stanley attempted to determine the authenticity of the deerskin map through noninvasive analysis techniques, including light microscopy, UV-induced visible fluorescence, UV-VIS spectroscopy, and FTIR.
The map, which features black, blue, green, red, and yellow colorants on a leather support, depicts the upheaval in Mexico at the time of European conquest. Hernan Cortes famously invaded Mexico in 1519. The priests who followed in his train destroyed Maya and Aztec maps and codices, and Spanish conquistadors killed many indigenous people, especially those who resisted conversion to Christianity. In one of the map’s illustrations, priests preach to native noblemen, perhaps with limited success: one priest is shaking an Aztec listener so violently that blood flies from his nose. The map also illustrates roads, waterways, villages, agave plantations, and irrigation systems, accompanied by Aztec glyphs or pictograms and their Spanish translations, or glosses. It captures the meeting of the Old and New Worlds, with depictions of Aztec warriors, Spanish priests, Aztec shrine altars, and colonial Spanish villages. But is it authentic?
According to Stanley, the hide support was roughly scraped as part of the tanning process; he is still investigating how the Aztecs may have treated the skin to preserve it. Large, circular voids in the leather appear to be the natural result of abscesses in the animal’s skin rather than later damage. The map was previously folded and has prominent creases as a result. Its pigments are stable, with minor abrasion, and the map displays some liquid staining and minor losses along the edges.
Since no follicle pattern could be determined using light microscopy, Stanley compared the collagen fibers present in the map’s support with those of a known deerskin, and found they had comparable length and width. He also examined the map’s colorants and found evidence for both yellow and orange dyes, which were absorbed into the collagen fibers, and for blue, green, and black pigments, which were deposited on the leather surface.
Stanley then used UV fluorescence for general pigment identification, comparing the fluorescence of the map’s colorants to the fluorescence of Kremer pigment samples. Based on his observations, he tentatively identified the red colorant as cochineal, the yellow-orange as gamboge, and the blue as Maya blue, a combination of indigo and palygorskite clay. While cochineal and Maya blue are both associated with traditional Aztec culture, the gamboge was a surprise, since it is normally associated with Southeast Asia. In addition, the fluorescence of the green pigment did not match that of any Kremer samples. UV-VIS spectroscopy of the map’s colorants reinforced Stanley’s original pigment identifications, but the green remained a mystery.
Finally, Stanley turned to Fourier-Transform Infrared Spectroscopy using Attenuated Total Reflectance (FTIR-ATR) for more definitive pigment identification. Once the bands for the hide support had been subtracted, the spectrum for the red dye displayed the characteristic absorption band for carminic acid, confirming the presence of cochineal. The yellow-orange dye produced an absorption band for gambogic acid. Stanley theorizes that the gamboge present in the map is actually American gamboge, a resin that is chemically identical to Asian gamboge but originates in a Mexican plant. Both the blue and green pigments produced spectra containing absorption bands for indigo and palygorskite clays, suggesting that they are Maya blue and Maya green: the same pigment/dye complex at lower and higher pH levels, respectively. The black pigment produced absorption bands for calcium and phosphate, indicating the use of bone black.
Because all of this evidence points to the use of pigments and dyes known to have been used during the early colonial period, Stanley has determined that the map is likely to be contemporary with the European conquest of Mexico. However, the colorants, the skin, and the tanning process all provide tantalizing opportunities for further research. Could the green colorant be Maya blue in combination with a yellow dye? Is the leather in fact deerskin? How was it tanned? Finding the answers to these questions could shed more light on the map’s authenticity, and illuminate a period of dramatic historical change with even more accuracy.
Theresa Smith of Weissman Preservation Center, Harvard University presented her treatment of the heavily edited typescript manuscript of Marguerite Yourcenar’s L’Oeuvre Au Noir. The manuscript, begun in 1956, had been bound into 2 volumes after its completion in 1968. The author’s editing techniques presented unique challenges as she made changes to her manuscript by taping new strips of paper over old sentences. Nor did she stop at just one layer. Throughout the course of conserving the manuscript, Theresa found pages with no less than 17 layers of changes, all stuck together with pressure sensitive tape. To make matters even more complicated, Yourcenar would often edit over the typewritten emendations with handwritten notes, making the tape on which these notes were written a part of the manuscript. Long term stability concerns aside, the tape with these notes could not be removed from the manuscript.
When all was calculated and done, the manuscript was estimated to have 6,725 inches of pressure sensitive tape (most of it failing) and at least eight different paper stocks. Tape on the coated paper stocks remained strong and in place, and in the past, researchers with more curiosity than sense had pried up and damaged the strips in an attempt to see underneath them. On the other hand, the tape adhesives had mostly failed on the uncoated papers, leaving the strips of edited text floating free. The manuscript was in an extremely compromised condition and access not been granted to researchers for years. Obviously something needed to be done, but the project was a complicated one that spanned two conservators. Theresa, who collaborated closely with the collection’s curator when making treatment decisions, worked through the manuscript one page at a time to carefully reconstruct the complex and layered structure of the emendations.
Briefly, here are the primary points of the treatment as completed by Theresa.
Emendations that obscured text were removed mechanically and hinged in at the spine. Theresa found wheat starch paste to be an effective adhesive when applied quickly and firmly, even on the erasable bond papers.
Loose emendations were hinged into place. If these emendations were on tape carriers, the carriers themselves were hinged into place.
Staining was not treated, as it often helped reconstruct placement of the loose strips, and could be of use to future researchers.
Tape that still held strongly to the page was not removed even though there was concern that the adhesive of this tape might creep out in future years, causing more problems. Time constraints meant that the tape would stay put, at least for now.
Adhesive residue left behind by any necessary tape removal (only on obscured text) was mechanically removed and coated with cellulose powder to reduce tackiness.
Handling notes were included in the volume, in the enclosure, and in the card file for library staff.
Theresa’s presentation was yet another reminder that there is no “one size fits all” solution in the conservation profession; flexibility and a good sense of humor are key!
Paula Ricciardi, John K. Delaney, Lisha D. Glinsman, Mathieu Thoury, and Michelle Facini of the National Gallery of Art used several analytical methods to study the media used in the Praying Prophet, a manuscript cutting illuminated by Lorenzo Monaco c. 1410/1413.
Up front, let me say that analytical techniques such as image spectroscopy, XRF and FORS analysis are way outside my balliwack, so please feel free to comment on my post to correct any missing or mis-stated information. My feelings will certainly not be hurt!
So, the crew at NGA used a Si-CCD camera with color-corrected lenses and their specialized set up allowed them to reduce the light levels needed to capture their imagery, thus making the analysis safer and easing their conservator’s mind. They captured several images in the 400-950nm (visible through near-infrared range). They compiled the images into an image cube for analysis, calibrating it to black and white standards that allowed them to gather both reflectance and luminescence information. This allowed them to differentiate between a wider range of visually similar pigments.
Image spectroscopy alone cannot identify a pigment, however, so they also did XRF (which identifies elements such as copper, arsenic and lead in paints) and FORS analysis (which identifies different light absorption bands). One particular example she gave of the the need for both XRF and FORS analysis was the presence of copper in a green area of the miniature. Since copper was a common material used to make green pigment, the XRF identification of copper in that area was not surprising – but FORS analysis showed absorption bands that indicated the presence of azurite. So contrary to expectation, the green was not copper based, but azurite + a yellow pigment!
Even more intriguingly, when analyzing the vermilion robes of the prophet, they found absorption bands that did not match any of the pigments in their database. Curious, they collaborated with a conservator to mock up samples of vermilion pigment in a variety of different binders (egg glair, gum arabic, egg yolk). They found that the mystery absorption bands matched egg yolk. (This is exciting, as they are the first to map any sort of binder using FORS analysis).
Egg yolk was a slightly surprising find, as egg yolk is not well known to be a binder used in illuminated manuscripts. The team was able to find a passage from an early 15th century instruction manual on illuminating manuscripts that indicated egg yolk should only be used as a binder only when painting bodies (and specifically not in writing or when painting flowers). But the team knew that Lorenzo Monaco was also a panel painter (a media better known for egg tempura), so they wanted to dig deeper. Was he using egg yolk because of his panel painting experience? Was he the only one to use egg yolk in illuminated manuscripts? Their analysis found egg yolk was consistently used in the robes of figures throughout the miniature and in other illuminations by Monaco. Most of these robes were vermilion, but even the green robes showed the egg yolk absorption bands. Areas outside figures (such as decorated initials, foliage, etc) did not show evidence of egg yolk, although the robes of figures hidden away in decorative foliage did – suggesting that the difference in use was not just a matter of master painter vs. workshop painter.
When the team turned their attentions to other illuminated manuscripts of the era, they were unable to find egg yolk present, even when the artists’ responsible were also known panel painters. Obviously, more research needs to be done to further explore this area, but one of the most telling points of the talk (for me, anyway) came during the question/answer section. One conservator noted that while the talk did not make her rethink her treatment decisions based on concerns about the items themselves, it did make her think about how her consolidant decisions might muddy the waters for future investigators. This is a very good point, and one I will certainly be mulling over as I consider my own treatment decisions. Although, to be honest, the thought of inspiring some as-of-yet unborn scientist to curse my name is just a bit tempting.
Tammy Jordan of Etherington Conservation Services – East presented on her treatment of a heavily cockled parchment document. The document was a certificate from the Cinncinnati Society, which honored veterans of the Revolutionary War. The document was water damaged and had been purposefully cut into several sections, then sewn back together with cotton thread. There was no evidence of mold and the document had not been lined.
Research into the document’s history revealed that it belonged to a Captain Nathaniel Leonard, who had been suspended from the society for 4 years for ungentlemanly behavior, beginning on July 4th, 1799. This information supported the hypothesis that the document had been purposefully destroyed and reconstituted, making the sewing important to the document’s history. The sewing was too fragile to allow the document to be flattened on a vacuum table or by tension drying. Even flattening the document under pressure put the sewing at risk, as it would not allow the tension to be adjusted as the document relaxed.
Tammy needed a solution that would allow her to both apply tension locally and easily adjust the tension as the document relaxed. She turned to rare earth magnets for her solution. Rare earth magnets are available in a variety of strengths and sizes. Tammy used 11/16” diamater magnets with a profile of 1/32”. The thin profile reduced the attraction/repulsion between magnets, making their repositioning safe and easy. The pull force of her magnets was 1.63 lbs, but Tammy wrapped each magnet in a little hollytex bundle to reduce friction, reduce pull force, and a create a handy dandy handle.
The magnets only work, of course, because the document is flattened on a metal surface. Tammy used the following layers, from top to bottom, to protect her work: Polyester film, dry blotter, object, dry blotter, polyester film, dry blotter, metal tray. In the localized areas where Tammy was humidifying the document, she used the following layers, from top to bottom: Polyester film, damp blotter, dry blotter or Gore-Tex, object, dry blotter, damp blotter, polyester film, dry blotter, metal tray. The extra layers between the object and the metal tray help further reduce the pull force of the magnets.
Because of the complexity of the cockling, Tammy realized that she would need to diagram the fiber bundles in the parchment to better understand how humidification would guide the flattening. Once she better understood how the document would relax, she began working from the inside of the document – applying local humidity – and worked her way outwards to flatten the full document. The magnets allowed her to see almost all of the document, and she was able to adjust them according to the easily visible tension shifts in the parchment.
Once the document was flattened, Tammy created infills for areas of loss with cast paper and a 3% gelatin solution. The treated document was string mounted to mat board. Tammy took special care to attach the string mounts to create extra support around the stitched areas. The mounted vellum certificate was framed and sealed.
Questions? Just email Tammy at tamaralynnjordan at yahoo dot com
Problem: Crayon “graffiti” on 20th century Japanese prints by Munakata Shiko. The prints were mounted to screens, and the graffiti appeared at about 4 ft. from the ground—around the same height as a child. Unlike graffiti on a painted wall, however, crayon does not come off of printed paper quite as easily.
Experiment: Mock-ups were created with Japanese paper, printed with black sumi ink, then colored over with both waxed-based and water soluble crayons. Possible solvents were chosen from the wax section on the Teas diagram and included petroleum ether, mineral spirits, toluene and xylene. These solvents were tested in three situations:
Solvent on a swab
A bath of water and solvent, followed by blotting of the stain
Damp blotter surface with local application of moisture and solvent, followed by blotting of the stain
Results:
Solvents alone did not reduce crayon to a satisfactory level; mineral spirits created a transparent stain visible through the paper
With the bath, it was impossible to control the amount of solvent used, but the overall result was positive
Crayon was lifted locally, but also migrated along with solvents to form tidelines
The ultimate solution was the use of a water-based treatment with toluene and xylene, such as that used in Experiment 2. For best results, Hsin-Chen suggested first manually reducing the graffiti with a kneaded eraser and scalpel.
Lynn Brostoff, Library of Congress
The Relationship Between Inherent Material Evidence in Cultural Heritage and Preservation Treatment Planning
Problem: A 1513 edition of Ptolemy’s Geographia was in poor condition, and puzzled conservators as to its history. Lynn set out to answer many questions, including: what was causing seven of the forty-seven maps to deteriorate?
Experiment: Using XRF, the pigments and paper were analyzed on maps of both good and poor condition, and in various areas of the sheet.
Results: Maps in poor condition contained Fe and Cu—two elements that cause the degradation of cellulose—as wells as K, S and Al—elements that together form potash alum. The pulp repairs and gutters of these pages, however, did not contain such elements and remained in good condition. It was decided that the paper quality used in these cases was poor, requiring a past restorer to “strengthen” the bound papers with a potash alum solution; gutters were not coated, and mends were made with untreated pulp.
This information, along with the result that one of the green pigments contains copper, answers the question about the differing quality in the maps, and also informs conservators for treatment planning.
Light Bleaching: Scientific Investigation of Various Effects on Different Properties of Several Old Papers
Problem: As part of her graduate conservation program at the Sorbonne, Marion carried out research on the history and effects of light bleaching.
Experiment: Using an array of papers of varying quality (wood pulp and rag paper) and age (from late 19th c. to present day), Marion created test strips and subjected them to different conditions:
A 25 min. wash in condition water
A 4 hr. wash in conditioned water
Washed in conditioned water, dried, then exposed to light
Washed in conditioned water for 4 hrs, then exposed to light while still immersed in the bath
The paper samples were aged in an oven before undergoing a serious of tests including pH, tensile strength, color, and degree of polymerization.
Results: Light exposure in dry conditions can be extremely damaging to paper, all wood pulp papers become weak and yellow over time no matter what the level of treatment, and light bleaching is generally an efficient treatment for rag papers because it produced an aesthetically pleasing result without harming the paper extensively.
**Comments/questions from the audience:
Does the hydrogen bonding need to be reset after treatment?
Magnesium can be used as a substitute for calcium when conditioning water baths, and produces better results after aging
Paper needs to be rinsed thoroughly (3 times) after bleaching to prevent color reversion
A Comparison of the Use of Sodium Metabisulfite and Sodium Dithionite for Removing Rust Stains from Paper
Problem: While conducting a treatment on a highly rust stained paper document in Petersburg, AK, Seth discovered sodium dithionite (SD) as a reducing agent to convert insoluble Fe (III) into soluble Fe (II). The setback: dithionite is expensive and toxic, and could not be shipped to the location before his treatment deadline.
Experiment: What is a suitable alternative for SD? With one more oxygen, sodium metabisulfite (SM) is a less expensive and non-hazardous option commonly used in wine making. In order to test SM as a viable solution, Seth rusted up some paper, and then used both SM and SD solutions (separately, with EDTA as the chelating agent) to create a comparison.
Results:
SD- best when cost is no issue ($7.00 for a 1 liter 5% bath); requires ventilation and HAZMAT shipping, but removes corrosion in 4-6 hours.
SM- cheaper ($1.20 for a 1 liter 10% bath); takes longer, and only removes light to medium stains, but could possibly be done on a suction table rather than in a bath if there are chemically sensitive areas of the paper.
**Comments/questions from the audience:
A commercial product called White Brite exists, and may also remove rust stains in paper.
Treatment of an Oversize Rare Book: Research and Decisions on Rebinding (Pre-program Student Paper)
Evelyn Mayberger, Intern, National Museum of the American Indian; Betty Fiske, Historic Odessa Foundation; Michelle Biddle, Olin Library, Wesleyan University; Abigail Quandt, Walters Art Museum
Problem: Cosimo Bartoli’s book The Architecture of Leon Batista Alberti, in Ten Books, of Painting, in Three Books, and of Statuary in One Book was in poor condition and required stabilization. With this opportunity at hand, pre-program intern Evelyn Mayberger worked with Betty Fiske at the Historic Odessa Foundation to research the history of the book before treatment.
Treatment: Evelyn visited several collections to learn about the types of bindings used for this book, and how conservators had approached their treatment decisions. After consulting with Abigail Quandt and Michelle Biddle, Evelyn and Betty spent a total of 462 hours on the treatment of the book, including washing, tape removal, sun bleaching, mends and infills, guarding, sewing, lining and board covering (!) Oversized plates that had been sewn into the binding were restored to fold outs, and the binding was returned to what Evelyn deemed historically appropriate.
Results: It was discovered that all editions of the book had been re-bound, and most contained 6-7 sewing stations. Also of note, the first edition was printed in parallel Italian and English, which caused later editions to include all plates facing recto.
Francisco Trujillo’s talk was an excellent addition to the overall conference theme of ethical considerations and critical thinking as it highlighted the impact a conservator’s assumptions and biases can have on the course of analysis and treatment. He described the treatment of a Dutch illuminated manuscript, The Hours of Catherine of Cleves, in preparation for exhibition at The Morgan Library and Museum. The Book of Hours contains over 150 illuminated miniatures designed and painted by an artist known as the Master of Catherine of Cleves. The manuscript was originally bound as one volume, but was later split into two volumes and reordered. Treatment of the manuscript involved disbinding, consolidating the media on each page (with 1-2.5% isinglass in water and ethanol), and rebinding the folios in their original order.
As treatment progressed, Trujillo began noticing the presence of a non-copper based “smooth blue” pigment, possibly ultramarine. The “smooth blue” was found on pages that would have been facing each other in the original manuscript (before it was split and reordered) and was not found on surrounding pages. FCIR and XRF analysis revealed that ultramarine was present in these “smooth blue” areas along with azurite. Trujillo began to wonder if the Master had selectively used ultramarine on a handful of leaves, possibly mixing it with azurite, or if the ultramarine had been painted on top of the azurite, a later “sleight of hand”? Since at this point Trujillo had no other evidence that the Master ever used ultramarine, he assumed that the presence of ultramarine was a result of 19th century “touching up” when the manuscript was split into two volumes.
Trujillo pursued the “sleight of hand” line of inquiry, but then came across evidence that perhaps the Master of Cleves had, in fact, used ultramarine as an aesthetic choice. This led him to once again question his beliefs about the Master’s working methods; though there was evidence that many of the leaves had been “doctored” when the manuscript was split, there was also evidence that the blue pigments were mixed, quite possibly by the Master. He also found cobalt mixed into to some of the blues, and now leans toward the belief that it was the Master himself who used ultramarine on a select number of folios.
Trujillo did a nice job of calling attention to the assumptions conservators make about the objects they’re working on and the impact this can have on treatment decisions. He acknowledged that pursuing the “sleight of hand” theory – while fascinating – diverted his attention for a while and kept him from seeing other important evidence in the manuscript.
In preparation for a 2012 exhibition of Charles M. Russell’s watercolor paintings, Jodie Utter, Conservator of Works on Paper at the Amon Carter Museum of American Art , undertook an investigation of the artist’s techniques and materials. I really enjoyed this presentation; I knew nothing about Russell or his work prior to the talk and Utter was successful in sharing her excitement about the artist by putting together an interesting narrative of his life, process, and development as a painter.
Russell was born in St. Louis in 1864, and moved to Montana as a young man to work on a sheep ranch and then as a night wrangler on a cattle ranch.A self-taught artist who began drawing and painting in his spare time on the ranch, he began painting full-time in 1893. A turning point in Russell’s career was a trip to New York in 1903-04, where he met and was influenced by the work of other painters and shifted from working in transparent watercolor to opaque watercolor. He produced over 1400 watercolors in his lifetime
Utter visited Russell’s still-intact studio to take samples of his paints, which she analyzed using polarizing light microscopy and x-ray fluorescence; as a point of comparison, she also analyzed samples of contemporaneous paints from unopened tubes. Materials found in his studio reveal that Russell used the highest quality brushes, paints, and papers available to artists in the American West in the mid-19th century. He used red sable brushes, the handles of which he cut and whittled to points in order to shape paint layers (he also chewed on his brushes, as evidenced by all the teeth marks!). The most common paint found in Russell’s studio was Chinese White watercolor, introduced in 1834 as the first reliable opaque white. Utter also found many paint tubes in Russell’s studio; she highlighted how revolutionary paint tubes were for artists at that time (introduced in 1840), allowing them to purchase high quality paints in large quantities. Also, since tube paints have more body than pan paints, they could achieve different results.
Infrared examination of Russell’s paintings revealed that the underdrawings of his earliest paintings were “overdrawn” – he was drawing figures over and over again, including lots of details, trying to “get things right,” without erasing much. Later underdrawings were much more minimalist – confident sketches with little detail. His color palette evolved from very basic to more developed – in a 1897 painting, there were 17 different colors of transparent watercolor in use – to a sophisticated use of complementary colors. Russell was introduced to color theory during his visit to New York; afterwards, he began using less black in the dark areas of his paintings – shadows were created with combinations of blues and greys. Russell used traditional watercolor techniques, like layered washes and scrapping away paint layers to achieve highlights, but he incorporated many unconventional techniques as well. Russell was also an oil painter and a sculptor and he adapted techniques – most notably, impasto – for his watercolor paintings.
Doris St-Jacques and Maria Bedynski of Library and Archives Canada presented the challenges they faced when working on the restoration of a hand colored 1739 ed. L’Amerique Divisee selon Letendue de ses Principales Parties wall map.
Highlights of the talk included images of anthropomorphized, bipedal, dam building beavers (Follow the link for more information on the map itself, and especially the beavers!) and the description of the Library and Archives Canada’s “light wall”. I don’t think I was the only attendee green with equipment envy at the thought! I know next time I get to design a new lab space, I will be investing in frosted glass and fluorescent light fixtures.
Library and Archives Canada has two copies of L’Amerique, a map that is important not only for the textual information and hand colored map, but also for the various illustrations of daily life in the Americas. Their 1689 ed. is in relatively good condition except for heavy trimming, but the 1739 ed. had been brought to conservation in poor shape. The 1739 ed. had had been previously, and creatively, restored.
The map had originally been printed on several panels that were glued together in overlapping segments. The left text panels had been cut from the map during the previous restoration. As a result, there were definitive breaks between panels that were tenting up and fragmenting at the edges.
The map had been lined with acidic machine pulp paper (date unknown).
The map had been trimmed and been given a decorative machine marbled paper border (date unknown).
The text panels were extensively damaged, and had been in-filled in a variety of creative and baffling ways.
Some segments were infilled with replacement printed text. This text was not only not from the same map, but was not even in the same language.
Some segments were decoratively infilled with meaningless scribbles, no doubt meant to emulate text.
Small fragments from the text had been retained, but had been re-adhereed to the map in seemingly random places.
The two bottom text panels had been reversed.
An opaque grey paint had been used to mask areas of loss/damage – further obscuring full lines of text in some areas.
The conservators approached the complex dilemma of L’Amerique by consulting the 1698 ed. of the map which also resided in their collection. Unfortunately, a previous treatment to that map had heavily trimmed the edges, resulting in significant text loss that made the map unsuitable as a guide. The conservators were able to purchase a facsimile copy of the map, printed at 1:1 aspect ratio, from the University of Michigan @ Ann Arbor. Notes on the full treatment of the map are as follows:
The Reboot:
The full map was humidified, the marbled paper border removed, and the map separated into individual panels. Humidification allowed the panels to be delaminated where they overlapped, so that the margins were retained where still present.
Each text panel was pre-treated with alcohol, then immersed in a water bath to remove the paper lining and heavy adhesive layer.
The two hand-colored map panels could not be immersed in water due to their soluable colorants, so instead, the adhesive and lining paper were removed by laponite poultice. They were then cleaned by spray misting and light sponging through pasting tissue.
Gelatin was brushed through pasting tissue to resize the paper of all the panels
The “creative” infills were carefully removed.
The Repair:
Leaf casting and hand pulp infills were used to restore areas of loss in each map segment (and to replace the severed margins on the left text panel), and each segment was lined with thin Japanese tissue and allowed to dry.
The individual sections were then reassembled into the 4 original panels (map, left text, right text, bottom text). It is at this stage that the conservators were able to switch the left and right sections of the bottom text panel back into their original configuration.
The Reinforcement:
Terylene fabric was spray-wetted then pasted out with wheat starch adhesive and adhered to the lab’s light wall. Sheets of kizukishi paper were water torn at the edges and pasted out. They were adhered to the terelyene to form one large sheet of lining tissue. The tissue/fabric laminate was then allowed to partially dry to reduce the likelihood that the lining tissue would be disturbed/damaged during the map mounting phase.
The laminate was repasted out and the map sections (1st the map, then the text panels) were humidified and rolled out onto the kizukishi tissue. Since the conservators were working on the drool worthy light wall, they were able to easily reach different parts of the map for exact repositioning.
It was decided to retain the marbled paper because it obscured nothing, would be easy to remove if necessary, and was a part of the history of the piece. The border was readhered to the map in the original configuration.
The map was allowed to dry on the light wall.
Once dried, the map was carefully peeled free from the light wall, with the terelyne serving as a release layer. The map was placed face down, and the terelyne carefully peeled free from the tissue lining.
A second layer of water torn tissue was pasted onto the map as a final layer of strength.
The Record:
From the start, the conservators were concerned about dimensional change during the humidification and lining of the map. To guard against misaligned fragments, the map was extensively measured and photo-documented before treatment began.
As the various creative infills were removed, they were adhered to a mylar overlay in their home positions.
During the treatment, it was realized that the title banner was delaminating. Viewed with tramsitted light, it became obvious that the L’AMERIQUE title banner had been pasted over a printed EUROPE banner, and in fact some of the original letters of the EUROPE banner had been altered as a part of L’AMERIQUE. The conservators found a that this was also the case on their 1698 ed. map, and that digital images of the same map at other institutions showed a delaminating title banner as well. So the conservation treatment of this map actually revealed a new fact about the printing methodology used by the map’s creator, Nicolas De Fer.
A full and complete version of the map text was printed onto a second mylar overlay to be stored with the original map.
Fragments of the acidic paper lining were retained to save the impression of the original cloth lining still present in the thick adhesive.
Due to their stability, reversibility, and working properties, Lascaux 360HV and 498HV adhesives are becoming increasingly popular in book and paper conservation. Samantha Sheesley of the Conservation Center for Art and Historic Artifacts presented three case studies of treatment applications that take advantage these properties.
The first case study involved treatment of a set of “Sailor Jerry” drawings on transparent paper. Both the presence of water-sensitive media and the reactive nature of the transparent paper meant that Sheesley was looking for a way to mend the drawings without introducing moisture. Lascaux 498HV was brushed in an even film layer onto a sheet of silicone-coated polyester and then quickly dried with a hair drier. Sheesley pointed out that this quick drying is an important step in order to prevent dust from settling into still-tacky adhesive. After drying, a sheet of tengucho mending tissue was placed on top of the 498HV film layer; the adhesive was reactivated with an iron to adhere the paper to the film. After removing the silicone-coated polyester, the adhesive-coated tengucho was used to create mending strips that were applied to the drawings with heat, resulting in nearly-invisible mends that are easily reversed with either heat or solvent (acetone or toluene).
The second treatment example of was the re-lining of a lithographic poster. A hydrophobic coating on the paper and water-sensitive media required a dry lining method. Lascaux 498HV was applied to a sheet of silicone-coated polyester (a light mist of water under the polyester secured it to the bench) and squeegeed in multiple directions to create a thin, even film – Sheesley emphasized again that it was important to work quickly when applying and drying the film layer in order to avoid dust settling in the adhesive. Lining paper was placed on top of the dry adhesive film and adhered with an iron. Once cooled, the silicone-coated polyester was pulled away from the lining paper. The poster was placed face down on a suction table to keep all pieces in place and then the lining paper was dropped adhesive side down, tacked in place with an iron, removed from suction table and ironed overall.
The third case study – in my opinion, the most ingenious of the applications – involved the use of a Lascaux mixture as a fill material for a convex photo button with a severe horizontal split. The button was a silver gelatin print with a cellulose nitrate coating on a metal substrate. The tented split created a gap that was both structurally and aesthetically problematic. Sheesley needed a fill material that would be flexible enough to accommodate dimensional changes in the object. She mixed equal parts Lascaux 360HV and 498HV, in order to take advantage of the unique properties of each, and added pigment. As in the first two examples, this mixture was brushed onto silicone-coated polyester and quickly dried. She scored the edge of the pigmented film and removed a small strip which she then rolled into a coil – the inclusion of Lascaux 360HV in the mixture, which retains it’s tackiness even when dry, meant that there was just enough residual tackiness for the adhesive film to stick to itself. After mending the photo with small strips of Beva (which were inserted in to the crack with very fine-point tweezers) the Lascaux coil was fitted into the gap and tacked in place with an iron. Sheesley then ironed the coil overall through a sheet of silicone film which imparted a shiny texture to the surface of the Lascaux fill, mimicking the surface quality of the cellulose nitrate for better visual integration. The fill was then inpainted with acrylics. The “after treatment” photos of the button were impressive – I hope an appropriate object comes across my bench soon so that I can try out this technique!
Q: Does creating repair tissue using dry adhesive rather than wet adhesive (i.e., brushing diluted Lascaux onto mending tissue) create a less transparent mend?
A: Sheesley tested both methods and found then to be similarly transparent. She also speculated that the the dry film methods would be more easily reversible, since the adhesive doesn’t penetrate into the mending paper fibers as it would in a wet application.
Q: Were any adverse effects of using the hot iron next to the cellulose nitrate?
A: No harmful effects were observed.
Q: Was there any residual tackiness on the coil infill, since it contained 360HV?
A: No, the presence of 498HV in the mixture and the acrylic paints on top of the fill meant that there was no remaining tackiness.
Q: Concerns about reversibility.
A: Sheesley stated that though reversing the treatments could be time consuming, she was able to reverse all of her repairs.
