Joanna McMann, Assistant Conservator at the Prince of Wales Northern Heritage Centre, was incredibly busy in Montreal, presenting two talks at the Book and Paper specialty session! This presentation outlined the work completed for the Spadina Museum in Toronto, Ontario. The historic house museum opened in 1984, and has been the subject of restoration treatment previously, as presented in the 2011 CAC-ACCR conference in Winnipeg: https://www.cac-accr.ca/files/pdf/e-cac-conference-2011.pdf (see page 20 for the abstract of “Wallpaper Reproduction Goes Digital”).
The 1912-1913 third floor servants’ hallway had not been restored, and the floral-patterned wallpaper’s in situ stabilization was McMann’s goal. There were a number of condition issues including losses, abrasions, delamination of wallpaper from the wall, water staining, tearing, and significant soot, dust, and grime, resulting from the area being used as a storage space. The wallpaper’s paper substrate was pulpy and weak, and its media was water-soluble. McMann found that a modified technique of the full-scale digital printing previously used was necessary to complete the conservation project in the short timeframe of the month of December. There was 500 square feet of wallpaper requiring treatment, requiring a specific coding system to map the damage efficiently.
Surface cleaning was completed using goat-hair brushes and latex-free makeup sponges. The fragments were carefully cleaned, and cracks were cleaned with the makeup sponges and Absorene chemical absorbing sponges. McMann remarked on the effectiveness of this, allowing the cracks to recede into the overall aesthetic of the wall.
Delaminated wallpaper was re-adhered to the wall with a very dry wheat starch paste, gouges were pulp-filled, smoothed, and toned, and if necessary, damaged plaster was filled.
Losses were divided by size, so that medium – large losses were filled with the digitally printed reproduction papers, and small losses were filled with papers that were toned with watercolour. Using this coding system, more than 600 infills and 63 losses/abrasions were completed and treated! Three rounds of proofing were used to produce a quality output of the reproductive wallpaper paper, and the printed paper was split mechanically while damp as the reproduction paper was thick overall and chamfering was not possible. All fills were first done with toned Japanese tissue, in order to ensure a sympathetic colour if abrasions were to occur again, as the area will remain used as storage space after stabilization. The large losses required precise alignment before they were trimmed, and a combination of methyl cellulose and wheat starch paste was used to adhere and to allow for some slip during alignment.
Final toning was done using acrylics and a number of different light sources, to ensure compatibility to the viewer.
McMann presented the challenges and problem-solving techniques needed for the completion of the project to the very interested audience. She guided us through the stabilization of the servants’ area, noting its imortance to the Spadina (Spa-deenah or Spa-dinah depending on your class status in the nineteenth century!) Museum, as they have gained the title of being “Toronto’s Downton Abbey” and have exhibited costumes from the popular BBC drama.
Category: Specialties
44th Annual Meeting – Textiles Session, May 16, "A Material Disaster: Preservation of the Muppets,” by Sunae Park Evans
Dear Children of the ‘80s and ‘90s,
Fear not, our childhood has been well preserved. You may have been concerned to hear our Muppet friends were suffering from the ill effects of aging and, I’ll be honest, the diagnosis (and the pictures!) seemed grim. Internal decay, failing support structures, foam hemorrhages, and alopecia were just some of the concerns. Fortunately Sunae Park Evans, Senior Costume Conservator at the National Museum of American History, was up to the challenge.
From both clinical and personal standpoints, the scope of the treatment was fascinating and produced some strangely existential questions. What makes a Muppet a Muppet? Where do you draw the line between replaceable miscellany and canonical Muppet accoutrements? And then, once you determine what is essential to Jim Henson’s original creations, how do you fit conservation techniques geared towards human costumes to a creation where the only human shape is Jim Henson’s arms and hands? With close consultation with original member of the Muppet design team Bonnie Erickson, Ms. Evans was able to navigate these questions while maintaining the integrity of the Jim Henson Legacy.
It may surprise you that puppets so seemingly innocent could have so many inherent vices. First there is the issue of the primary material, Scott Foam, which is a staple in puppeteering for its flexibility. However, the answer to the question of, “What is Scott Foam made of?” was repeatedly, “Scott Foam.” After speaking with several employees of the manufacturer, Ms. Evans was able to confirm that it was a low-density polyurethane which explained the large-scale deterioration and degradation of the Muppet’s internal structure, leading to the loss and collapse of other features. Polyurethane wasn’t the only material at issue as the Muppets were designed more for budget than longevity and featured attachments such as soup spoons and ping pong balls for eyes and leather shoe soles for the mouth. It was determined that much of the foam would have to be removed, leaving only the heads still intact, but the fabrics, facial features, and other appendages would be maintained as much as possible.
Next is the matter of how to classify and treat a movable, usable object used by humans that are not human but emote like a human. Is it a stationary object, costume, installation, or kinetic sculpture? Ms. Evans stated that she struggled greatly with the question and it seems the answer lies somewhere in the middle of all of them. She was able to use standard costume conservation materials and techniques to create the very non-standard forms shown below. By using the jointed base structure she was able to allow for the potential of movement and by padding them out with Ethafoam she was able to customize each form as one would for a costume. Once each Muppet was mounted on its new support and positioned in keeping with its unique personality, Ms. Evans and Ms. Erickson reviewed the new display but something was still off. It turns out that because the Muppets were made to be viewed on screen, they must also be considered as a 2D image. Many of our enigmatic friends were only made to be viewed from a specific camera angle. The Swedish Chef, for example, was always filmed at a downward angle so when he was positioned to be viewed straight-on, the resulting image did not match that from our childhood memories.
What won’t come as a surprise is that Miss Piggy remained a diva. The structure of the current Miss Piggy was still several decades old and the screws holding her together had rusted closed. Only the careful and intuitive navigation of Ms. Erickson, Miss Piggy’s original creator, were the conservators able to cut the joints without disrupting the remaining support and recreate the body with archival materials.
One of my favorite parts of any project is getting to know the object being treated and I was happy to know that Ms. Evans not only spent countless, tireless hours watching The Muppet Show, but also that she remained in constant communication with the Muppets, themselves, during the treatment. With creatures so full of life it’s not hard to imagine they’d have much to say.
*All images are of the PowerPoint slideshow presented by Sunae Park Evans.
Joint 44th AIC Annual Meeting & 42nd CAC ACCR Annual Conference – Electronic Media Session, May 15, "Re-Constructions: Preserving the Video Installations of Buky Schwartz" by Eddy Colloton
With new media, traditional exhibition and conservation practices are constantly challenged. Eddy Colloton, MA student, Moving Image Archiving and Preservation at NYU, addressed such relationship in his talk Re-Constructions: Preserving the Video Installations of Buky Schwartz. This artist uses electronic media to explore the physical space and the relationship created with its viewers. As the presenter states, Buky Schwartz “focuses on the nature of perspective and perception.”
Indeed, amongst his work, many allow interaction between the physical space and a virtual representation of the totality of the piece. The viewers may become a part of the work and create a relationship that feeds the assistance of the electronic components. As Three angles, 1986, where viewers may enter the maze and use the assistance of the monitors to find the exit of the installation. In the original exhibition, CRT monitors were used. In a later iteration, they were replaced with flat screens and was presented in a smaller space. Schwartz’s work offers flexibility in its representation in accordance that perspective is not loss and the original intent is respected.
Physical and virtual spaces are dependant since they offer a complete perspective when combined. Eddy Colloton explains that to fully understand the works, they must be exhibited. Unlike more traditional mediums, whether in storage or in their exhibition area, they remain physically the same (or so we strive to achieve such state). Buky Schwartz constructs works that are comprehensive with the electronic component like the exhibit Painted projection, 1977 and work Yellow triangles, 1992. Other examples of such relationship: Spring 1981 and Fall 1981, from the same year also follow the idea that they must be exhibited to be experienced.
The challenge with exhibition of new media work is the inevitable iteration at every exhibition. As Colloton explains, perception was important for this artist and he made sure to document his thought process and artistic decisions. A reference to Pip Laurenson’s concept of score is crucial for the preservation of new media work. It gives indications on how to present and interpret the work and allow viewers to experience it. It gives guidelines for the curator and conservator at each new exhibition, it is an iteration of the original/first presentation of the work.
As it commonly occurs for living new media artists, Schwartz worked closely with the curators and conservators. He was also very organized in his planning where he would carefully calculate algorithms, make blueprints, provide installation manuals and construct prototypes for many of this works. The indications would also clarify the equipment selection and document camera use for some specific installations. This would be useful in making informed decisions for conservation purposes. The artist’s estate passed to his daughter and son-in-law, which his documentation helped in the identification of the materials and comprehensive understanding of his perspective on his work.
The completeness of the score and careful documentation are still put to great use in efforts for conservation. Some video installations may appear less “conservative” like Painted projection as they require shapes to be painted on the walls and floors to be constructed with the help of a recording device.
Joanna Phillips puts nicely that in conservation: we become interpreters, mediators or even co-producers of time-based media artwork. I believe that Eddy Colloton communicated the essence of this through his talk.
The Estate of Artist Buky Schwartz
Authenticity, Change and Loss in the Conservation of Time-Based Media Installations by Pip Laurenson
Reporting Iterations: A Documentation Model for Time-Based Media Art by Joanna Phillips
Joint 44th AIC Annual Meeting and 42nd CAC-ACCR Annual Conference — Paintings Session, May 15th — "The Aftermath of Hurricane Sandy — Rescue and Treatment" by Carolyn Tomkiewicz and Caitlin Breare
Carolyn Tomkiewicz’s presentation began with a photo of a modest statue of Mary in the garden of a local church. It had been wrapped up against the oncoming storm—not by conservators, but by mindful parishioners. This protection had more in common with how you shield a plant from frost than how a museum usually guards against damage, but their effort and conscientiousness was rewarded when the statue survived the flood unscathed, a reveal that Tomkiewicz ended the talk with. These photos opened and closed the talk as a demonstration of how a community’s response, as much as a conservator’s response, is vital to the protection of the art in their midst.
Tomkiewicz begins at Westbeth Artists Residence, where studios and storage spaces in the basement were swiftly subsumed by the nearby and overflowing Hudson. When the artists were granted access ten days later, the salvage efforts began immediately. The rescue team—composed of the artists themselves, volunteers from AIC-CERT (Collection Emergency Response Team), and local conservation studios—took over the building’s courtyard and turned it into a makeshift triage center. Salvage operations rely on ingenuity: the team MacGyvered door screens into paper drying racks, applied toilet paper as facing for damaged paintings, used puppy training pads as blotters, and when faced with the unappealing prospect of leaving art unattended overnight, they stored as much as they could in a rental truck that they could lock up. Gaining access to indoor spaces at Westbeth improved the security of the artwork. However, as triage operations continued, more and more objects were brought to the team to be treated. The extent of the work to be done in those first few days never seemed to diminish, but the crew pressed on, even addressing the residents’ personal items as well as their art.
The Westbeth example typified an important part of the success of the Sandy response: educating artists on triage procedures to save their own artwork. This education came through including artists in the conservator-led salvage efforts as well as many informational sessions—specifically a well-attended public presentation at MoMA—and online support forums and resources. That AIC-CERT’s involvement was assisted by private conservators, public museums, and even conservation vendors who donated supplies, was what really propelled the Sandy response to be come an example of effective salvage outreach. Of course, few places worldwide rival the level of cultural saturation as Manhattan, but even cities and towns without MoMA should be able to construct a scaled-down version of this type of unified response within the local arts community.
The opening of the Cultural Recovery Center (CRC) in Brooklyn, run by FAIC to provide in-depth treatment at a secure facility, was the culmination of the volunteer effort to restore art after the devastation of Superstorm Sandy. Tomkiewicz discussed the treatment of three heavily deformed and flaking oil on canvas paintings at the CRC that required gradual-tensioning stretchers, humidity chambers, and a burnt-finger technique which utilized a lightbulb as the convex heat source. Given the type of damage Sandy left behind, she devoted special attention to the variety of ways to re-tension water distorted canvases, including Rigamonti stretchers and a “Gleitrahmen” (sliding frame) technique. Details of the treatments were published in the WAAC Newsletter Volume 35, Number 2 of May 2013, “A Tensioning Device for the Reduction of Severe Planar Distortions in Paintings,” by Carolyn Tomkiewicz.
She concluded her talk with the following advice: don’t store art in the basement in a flood zone!
Joint 44th AIC Annual Meeting and 42nd CAC-ACCR Annual Conference — Paintings Session, May 17th — "Using Web-Based Projects to Promote Conservation and Engage Diverse Audiences" by Kristin DeGhetaldi and Brian Baade
Thanks to museums that publicize our projects and the growing acceptance of on-site treatments, conservation is increasingly in the public eye. But these efforts can only reach so many people, and they tend to be temporary events or installations. Nowadays, we have a way to spread information to the interested reader, however far away they might be, and to archive information for far longer than is usually possible in the physical world. Thus, the question becomes: since knowledge can be disseminated and stored this way, if it can’t be accessed that way, does that research really exist?
Hence, the growing importance of a conservation project website.
First to be discussed is the Kress Technical Art History website (artcons.udel.edu/about/kress). The site approaches a discussion of conservation by focusing on an in-depth exploration of methods and techniques, built around the painting reconstructions completed by Kristin and Brian. Each reconstruction has a section of the website, with a different page for each layer of the painting, but they also have a physical life that also educates: The originals are distributed to museums along with pigment kits, to be used as didactic tools in museum galleries. The website has additional informational pages that cover historical materials and techniques, examination and scientific methods, a vocabulary primer, and links to other resources, including painting reconstructions done by other people. The depth of the website is frankly astounding, as every page seems to link to more detail and further research: from the Historical Methods/Techniques, you can click “inorganic pigments” and find a slideshow of the raw materials being prepared, a PDF of a chronological list of pigment usage, and a link to a video showing the extraction of lapis lazuli. Not only is this a valuable resource for anyone diving into historical painting techniques, but interested pre-programmers will find its resources invaluable for Winterthur’s “copy, reproduction or reconstruction” portfolio requirement.
The second project to be covered was the two-year conservation of the monumental Triumph of David at Villanova. The project’s website (thetriumphofdavid.com) combines not only a timeline of the treatment but a walkthrough of its restoration steps, in-depth reporting on the scientific analysis done, and the ability to view different stages of work and analysis as segments of the whole image. Kristin pointed out that while many institutions are wary of publicizing such sensitive information about the state of their artwork, the Triumph had literally no reputation to uphold: its original assessment had marked it as an insurance loss. The transparency of the Triumph project is refreshing: discussing the decision-making process behind each step and explaining current methodologies. The website is an experiment in laying out a painting’s history on the table, pointing out where there’s room for more research, and inviting the next participants to the table.
Kristin closed the talk with the introduction of MITRA (Materials Information and Technical Resource for Artists). Conceived as a revival of the much-missed AMIEN forum, it will connect artists, conservators, scientists, and educators to discuss best practices. As an interactive forum, hopefully it will become a well of expertise to draw upon when confronted with the misinformation that plagues much of the internet. Though the forum will initially focus on paintings, it will expand as it grows to cover a wide range of topics—wider than its predecessor—including contemporary art materials and concerns, textiles, sculpture, storage, murals, photography, and whatever else the public clamors for, I expect. It will be hosted by the University of Delaware when it is launched, hopefully in the Fall of 2016.
44th Annual AIC Meeting- Textile Session, May 16th, Assessing Collection Emergency Training and Response: The Risks of Adrenaline.
The paper presented by Lois Price and Joelle Wickens examined current training techniques implemented at the Winterthur University of Delaware Program in Art Conservation (WUDPAC) and their evolution to take into account the role of adrenaline in disaster response.
Initial training consisted of rotations through the different labs and discussions of possible issues before stepping up to muck up drills. The results of this training was mixed, showing that participants were able to recover objects, but that assessment of the materials before their movement was compromised as the goal became more a mission to get objects out of harms way and less about documentation and evaluation.
With this knowledge in hand, training methods were reassessed to try and bring assessment to the forefront; as good assessment aids in the long term success of disaster recovery.
The new method of approach looked to combine soft training, ie discussions in a classroom setting with an assessment only drill followed by a wet artifact recovery training session.
This ordering of training allowed first for discussions of all rolls in a disaster response plan, in a controlled environment without the risk of adrenaline. It forced holistic thinking of an entire situation.
The assessment workshop placed students is a mock disaster and forced assessment only of objects, no recovery. It was crafted to include numerous object issues, as well as registration issues that all should be taken into account during the recovery process. By increasing the complexity of the objects that students were assessing the importance of documentation and registration processes were reinforced. This reinforcement helped strengthen the importance of the assessment process in students’ minds and drive home that without through assessment good recovery is almost impossible.
After the assessment drill wet object recovery training further reinforced this training. Objects were first assed while dry before they were wetted out, reassessed, and then the training on handling was done. Students were then given unseen objects; removing the opportunity for the first assessment and introducing the students to the object in “trouble”.
This method of training helped students to see the importance of assessment and clarified the fact that slowing down is truly the key to effective response.
This talk was fascinating for me after being brought in for disaster recovery at the Glasgow School of Art during my final year of graduate school. In analyzing what went on with the materials in that situation and listen to the training techniques used at WUDPAC, I can say with some confidence that such training would have made me better prepared for that situation. While nothing can truly prepare you for the real thing, the repetition on the importance of assessment is helping prepare the students for situations we can hope they never have to face, but if they do, they may enter with an idea of how to initially respond.
44th Annual Meeting & 42nd Annual Conference—Book and Paper Session, 15 May 2016: "Careful Consideration: Learning to Conserve a Kashmiri Birch-bark Manuscript," by Crystal Maitland
Waxing philosophical (in her own words) about the nature of treatment, her musings inspired by a unique Kashmiri birch bark manuscript, Crystal Maitland provided a holistic look at the considerations for and process of treating an object outside the normal range of paper conservation expertise.
In sharing her experiences treating this manuscript, Maitland observed that unusual projects provide opportunities to reflect on our everyday treatments as well—those which are well within our skill sets and comfort zone of interventions. Both the AIC and CAC ethics statements require conservators to recognize and work within their limits [AIC: “limits of personal competence and education”; CAC: “limits of his/her professional competence and facilities”]. So when presented with a treatment that requires us to move outside of that range of interventions, how do we ethically expand the limits of our skill sets?
Maitland suggested that we turn first to the expertise of others, via published literature and the knowledge of colleagues; in the case of the Kashmiri manuscript, while treatment information was scarce, she was able to draw on information about the materials and cultural context to begin to first understand the manuscript and then shape a plan. This amassing of information included both material and intangible aspects of the manuscript and consideration of potential audiences for the manuscript.
A primary question she posed in this stage was, why was this text written on birch bark? Common substrates of the period were inappropriate (parchment, made from animal skin, would be antithetical to the Hindu sacred text it would support) or unavailable (papyrus, for example, is not found in the region). The isolated location, however, has copious quantities of Himalayan birch, making it a logical choice. The composition of the bark also proved relevant. The early annual growth, light in color, contains botulin, an antifungal agent that may have contributed to its survival; the later annual growth, dark-colored, is rich in tannins. The characteristic striping of birch bark is due to the presence of transpiration nodes called lenticels.
Clues to the manufacture of the manuscript were also carefully observed and informed the eventual treatment. The individual leaves were laminated together, some naturally (i.e., the layers were harvested together, giving a matched pattern of lenticels) and others artificially (i.e., the layers were grouped after the harvest, with distinct, mismatched lenticel patterns). These manuscript pages were delaminating, the bark layers separating and sometimes torn, and also exhibited a waxy efflorescence, in addition to heavy soiling, curling, and tears along the edges.
Having established a baseline for the composition, manufacture, and condition of the manuscript, Maitland felt comfortable formulating and pursuing a course of treatment. The intervention ultimately drew on her research and careful consideration of the manuscript to make treatment decisions. Surface cleaning with a smoke sponge and cold deionized water was followed by relaxing the curling edges of the leaves with methanol vapor chambers. Mending utilized wheat starch paste of a lining consistency and Japanese paper for tears, placing the repair tissue between the layers of the birch bark where possible. Damaged lenticels were mended with toned tissue for additional structural support to the leaves where necessary. With access being a driving force behind the treatment, the entire manuscript was digitized; the manuscript was then interleaved with polyester film sleeves for safe handling in consultation, and stored in custom boxes.
Returning to the questions she posed at the beginning, Maitland suggested that conservators can expand their limits, ethically, by learning from colleagues, including published professional literature; by testing treatment options, carefully observing the results, and proceeding accordingly; by engaging in holistic thinking about cultural heritage and considering the intangible aspects alongside the materiality; and by playing to our strengths, or making the most use out of the techniques and skills that we already know and possess.
Maitland’s treatment and her process for developing it certainly provided food for thought. The intimate look at an unusual intervention combined with an exploration of how to expand our skill sets while respecting ethical limits encouraged reflection on our treatment processes for more routine treatments. Ultimately, I came away from this talk with the conviction that the way I approach treatment should not depend on the uniqueness or visual appeal of an item, but rather that each object deserves a respectful and appropriate treatment.
44th Annual Meeting & 42nd Annual Conference – Objects Session, May 17, 'Using Heat and Cold in the Treatment of a Lakota Winter Count,' Madeleine Neiman and Nancy Odegaard
Madeleine and Nancy presented a very interesting talk that shared their experiences using cold temperatures to achieve a specific treatment goal. Nancy began by introducing the object, a Lakota Winter Count. The object is one of a type of pictorial calendars that depict the history of the community and serve as a counting device. A historian would have been in charge of the count, naming years for remarkable events related to astronomy, the environment, or culture. Tribal keepers knew the name of the years, helping them to recall the oral history of the community.
The Lakota Winter Count that inspired this talk is from the Heard Museum in Phoenix, Arizona. At some point in the past, it had been folded so that the pictograph surface faced out. The interior surface had become stuck to itself, preventing the unfolding of the object. As the Heard Museum does not currently have a permanent conservation staff, the object was brought to the Arizona State Museum for treatment.
The primary goal of treatment was to unfold the count, enabling the viewer to see all of the pictographs at the same time. Additionally, there is bleeding, mold, darkening, and tears on the support. There was no history of fabrication or provenance associated with the object so the Arizona conservation team undertook documentation and investigation.
There are 121 pictographs on the non-coated side of the support that documents the years 1799 to 1918. The outlines are drawn in graphite and the limited additional pallette is consistent with other winter counts. These include two browns, a bright pink pastel, and blue and orange colored pencils. Specifically, the Heard winter count is very similar to a Long Soldier Winter Count at the NMAI. Sometimes, duplicates of counts were made for use or for sale, which could explain the similarities of the two pieces that cover roughly the same period. The Heard count is likely from a similar region in North Dakota.
The object was analyzed and the support was determined to be a piece of commercial oilcloth. FTIR showed the oilcloth coating is linseed oil and shellac. Fiber samples taken indicate that the fabric is cotton. This is consistent with commercial oilcloth produced in the late 19th, early 20th century; during this time period, commercial products began to replace local materials. Maker’s marks on the oilcloth identify the manufacturing company and Nancy and Madeleine shared contemporary advertisements, which demonstrated the prevalence of the product in the average household. The mark gives a terminus post quem of after 1901.
The fusing of the oil cloth to itself was likely due to ambient heat. A 1-2 cm opening along the edge was the maximum access before treatment. Dave Smith, conservation scientist at Arizona, was able to determine the glass transition period of the oilcloth coating is approximately 31⁰C. The average temperature in Arizona exceeds this from April to October, so the environment could have caused the shifting in the structure of the materials that led to the current sticking.
Madeleine undertook testing to explore options for opening the count. Organic solvents were not effective as the coating is cross-linked and now impervious. At this point, it was clear that whatever treatment was applied would be time consuming and invasive. The conservators asked the curators how crucial the treatment was to the object; however, the curators said that the current condition was fundamentally comprising the interpretation of the object as the chronological reading of the object was disrupted.
Knowing this, the conservators went back to the drawing board. Dave suggested considering cold temperatures, because polymers are long chain molecules whose movements are highly linked to temperature. If the temperature is below the Tg, then the polymers can no longer stretch and instead cleave, allowing for the two sides to be separated. Conservators tried compressed cooled CO2 gas, which was not effective. Similarly, overall freezing works at first, but the object warmed up too quickly for this to be viable for treating the whole object. Next, they used a Peltier cooler to apply repeated cold in a smaller area. The team worked to retrofit a USB beverage chiller to be able to consistently apply a 5⁰C. This system was used by applying the cooling plate to oilcloth surface for three minutes, then lifting the device so that Madeleine could use a stainless steel spatula to cleave small sections of the cloth from the opposite surface. She continued in this way for three months, working on the project for portions of each day.
After the cloth was opened, treatment turned to the tears, some of which appear to be linked to earlier attempts to force open the oilcloth. Stitching the tears was not viable because there was no safe place to secure the tears given the nature of the oilcloth. Adhesive backings also were not expected to be successful, as they would likely curl away from the coated surface over time. Instead, Madeleine found that by applying granules of textile welding powder to individual warps and wefts, she could control her mends and allow for a degree of reversibility. This process required four steps: relax the creases using Gortex, Dartex, and weights; pull misaligned fibers back into place; reweave fibers where possible; and, apply the granules of adhesive. The granules were heated in situ to a temperature at which they began to soften but did not completely solubilize, so that individual granules could then be mechanically removed if necessary. In some places, a secondary support was added where there were not enough wefts or warps. Small pieces of Remay were torn to the right shape, toned with dilute acrylics, dusted with the welding powder, and heated between silicone release paper in place.
Thus, the treatment presented benefited from the use of both low heat and cold temperatures. It was highly time intensive; however, this was considered justifiable as the object was a special project. The speakers also encouraged conservators to consider the use of cold for other treatment applications, as it seems to be underexplored when compared to higher temperatures.
After the presentation, one question was asked:
- Q: Why did they not just heat the oilcloth coating to past the glass transition temperature? A: Doing this would likely have caused the cloth to become more sticky, more bonder, and more flexible. When the polymers are cold, they want to break due to the brittleness. The weakest point of contact in this case was with the other side, so cleaving the polymers facilitated the treatment goal.
This post was written from my personal notes, which may contain errors or inaccurately represent the author’s original intentions.
44th Annual Meeting & 42nd Annual Conference – Objects Session, May 16, "The Aftermath of Mends: Removing Historic Fabric Tape from Tlingit Basketry" by Caitlin Mahony
The Aftermath of Mends: Removing Historic Fabric Tape from Tlingit Basketry, presented by Caitlin Mahony and Teri Rofkar
The talk began with an introduction from Teri, who reminded us to be thankful to the caretakers of the land in Montreal. She and Caitlin then shared their presentation of a Mellon fellow project at the National Museum of the American Indian on removing a series of historic mends from Tlingit basketry. This project served as an opportunity to “reactivate” the baskets in their collection.
Teri read from a book entitled for Healing Our Spirit, sharing a Tlingit Oratory which advocated us to “apply kindness to open wounds,” an interesting perspective on the state of the baskets prior to conservation.
After seeing the image above of one of the first mother baskets, the audience was introduced to the history of Tlingit basketry. The primary material of these baskets is spruce root, some of which is dyed. Originally constructed as functional objects, they were eventually woven for the tourist trade, which helped the community transition from a subsistence to a market economy. When in use, Teri mentioned the baskets could be expected to have approximately a 100 year life span given heavy use.
There are now over 700 Tlingit baskets in the NMAI, many of which suffer from condition concerns. These include rips, tears, losses, and fold lines. Patterns of damage indicated that the dyed spruce root regions may be contributing to weakness. In 2011, the NMAI hosted a Mellon fellow research project that investigated the processing of spruce root at a cellular level. This set the stage for the more recent project which was focused on treatment.
In the first half of the 20th century, a repair campaign on pottery in the NMAI collection was documented. An image shared in the lecture showed a row of gentlemen seated behind a table covered with ceramics. A similar campaign was likely undertaken with the Tlingit baskets, though there is no documentation. Most of the repairs used hide glue or cellulose nitrate impregnated fabric strips that were painted with oil paints. Either the colors were never close matches or they have shifted significantly with time, but the repairs are currently aesthetically incongruous.
Of the 580 baskets investigated, 130 had historic mends. Of these, 24 had major repairs, which was defined as 20+ mends or a mend that obscured a sizable area of the wall or base. Tears were frequently found adjacent to these mends, likely due to the greater strength of the adhesive than the basket. Distortion was also noted, likely due to the effects of the drying of the adhesives. They also caused the removal or redeposition of tannins, dirt, and residue from the baskets, resulting in tide lines. Given the current condition, many of the baskets could not be exhibited, studied, or handled. Thus, the baskets were ‘inactive’ and no longer serving either their original or adopted functions.
NMAI hosted a three-day conservation workshop in April with representatives from museums with strong Tlingit basket collections. One goal of the workshop was to form an integrated protocol, as well as to study the technology and develop action points to create a path forward.
Since the workshop, NMAI has undertaken extensive documentation, consulted with the Tlingit community to correct and confirm catalog information, identified the wrapped weft material, which had been called false embroidery, and created digital reconstructions. These computer-generated images were created by Laurie Stepp and illustrate how the baskets would have looked when new. They also analyzed the color values, as the tannins are oxidizing and the dye fading.
After processing this information, experimentation was undertaken to develop a treatment approach. The primary goal for the baskets with major repairs involved taking down the fabric mends. Mockups provided by the Getty were used to test various methods. First focusing on the hide glue repairs, Caitlin found that water caused tide lines and blanching when applied with less control. However, when applied in the form of 2% agarose gel, the adhesive was softened and no tide lines formed. This approach was then used in treating the baskets. No barrier layer was necessary and they could work in multiple locations at the same time. They covered the agarose with plastic and gently weighted the gel to reduce evaporation and improve contact. Caitlin found a dwell time of approximately 45 minutes was effective. The fabric tape and residual adhesive could be mechanically removed with wooden skewers in the direction of the stitches; no adverse effects were noted from the treatment.
However, once the fabric was removed, areas of basketry were revealed whih had been protected from light exposure, indicating what the colors may have looked like when the baskets were first collected. This brought up the question of the aesthetic reintegration of the areas of previous repair. Conservators discussed this with curators and considered what the baskets might gain and loose through reintegration. The repairs are part of the baskets’ stories, but they are also visually distracting. This is an ongoing conversation.
Storage was designed for each object, based on individual needs and condition concerns. NMAI is also exploring how to improve access to this collection. They want to ‘reconnect the disturbed baskets’, and are currently loading tablets with the images and information which can be distributed to schools and used for other programs. An ongoing goal of the project is to continue collaboration between institutions to facilitate knowledge sharing. The NMAI also wants to connect with the contemporary weaving community, which Teri described as fragile, explaining that there were not many weavers 100 years ago and that there are even less now. Contemporary weavers work on commissions – so let’s ask people to weave again!
The talk ended with Teri saying, ‘Gunalcheesh, Ho, Ho. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’ With this, she extended gratitude to the baskets and the remarkable women who wove them.
After the presentation, two questions were asked:
- Q: Did NMAI find any traditional repairs? A: Yes, which included the weaving of new spruce roots, the combination of parts of baskets, such as the bottom of one with the walls of another, and the repurposing of large baskets to extend their lifetime.
- Q: The agarose gel approach worked for the hide glue, what about with the cellulose nitrate mends? A: No, agarose did not work and acetone has negative effects on the baskets. They plan to try saturating the areas with D3/D4 silicone solvents to mask the materials and create a dam, but this is an aspect of future work.
This post was written from my personal notes, which may contain errors or inaccurately represent the author’s original intentions.
44th Annual Meeting & 42nd Annual Conference – Book and Paper Session, May 15, “All Over the Map: Bringing Buffalo’s Stars of Cartography to Light (One Lining at a Time) by Stephanie Porto
Stephanie Porto, Owner and Paper Conservator at Niagara Art Conservation, presented an engaging talk on the conservation of maps depicting the rapid growth of Buffalo, New York from 1805 to 1909, which were exhibited in “You Are Here: Buffalo on the Map.” Stephanie’s talk perfectly balanced the technical treatment aspects with contextual information on the maps themselves.
Stephanie outlined the history and interesting facts of each map requiring conservation treatment. From the 1833 map, which detailed the area one year after Buffalo had been incorporated as a city, to the 1847 map which demonstrated the increase in commerce on the lake, and the 1893 Christian Homestead Association map, which included the salacious representation of 75 houses of ill fame.
Their conservation treatment needed to be completed in a limited timeline, and while six out of eight of the maps required linings due to poor quality paper, Stephanie found that traditional wet paste lining was not going to be possible in most cases. She included some great references that she had consulted on dry lining techniques:
Sheesley, Samantha. 2011. “Practical Applications of Lascaux Acrylic Dispersions in Paper Conservation”. The Book and Paper Group Annual 30: 79-81.
Jamison, Jamye. 2013. “Tip: Lascaux Linings in the Treatment of Park Plans for the Cleveland Public Library”. The Book and Paper Group Annual 32: 82-83.
Stephanie’s lining mock ups initially had an issue with sheen and planarity, but she was able to solve both problems using cellulose powder and a combination of Lascaux 303 HV and 498 HV. She outlined the specs of each adhesive, noting their difference in sealing temperatures (498 HV is higher) and final film elastic description (498 HV is hard and 303 HV is tacky). Stephanie described her preparation of the lining paper, beginning with rolling a 2:1 Lascaux 498 HV and 303 HV mixture onto silicone release Mylar with a brayer, allowing to dry, and ironing the dried adhesive film onto the lining paper, and using a printmaking baren to apply pressure after the film and paper were cooled. The map was placed recto up and the prepared lining paper was aligned underneath, the sandwich was flipped and smoothed by hand, then ironed from the center out. After being cooled, the lined map was pressed between Tycore panels. She then discussed the specific treatments of particular maps requiring linings.
The 1850 map depicting an 1805 Buffalo rendered in ink on watercolor paper required the removal of pressure sensitive tape, suction washing and cleaning, dry lining, and overall stretch-mounting.
The 1888 relief printed map could not withstand a backing removal, and so the treatment went forward with consolidation of delaminated paper with wheat starch paste set with a tacking iron, and a dry lining was applied with the original textile backing still in place.
The 1909 relief printed map was heavily water-damaged and retained evidence of previous conservation intervention. The map was consolidated with methyl cellulose, and was lined overall with the backing still in place with a Beva 371 film, and stretch mounted onto a foam board.
The 1893 color lithograph map required the removal of pressure sensitive tape, a temporary facing of 4% w/v Klucel G in ethanol during the backing removal, and a dry lining.
The 1833 hand colored lithograph was in the poorest condition with many detached fragments and a varnish layer. After the varnish was removed with ethanol, and the same temporary facing was applied, the backing was removed dry and the verso was then sanded to remove the adhesive residue. After lining with the Japanese tissue Okowara, the backing paper itself was hand toned with acrylics to integrate losses.
All the temporary facings were removed and loss compensation was completed by pouncing the Japanese tissue with cellulose powder and dry pigments. Finally, we got to see an excellent use of old chemistry textbooks in the pressing and flattening of the maps!