AIC's 52nd Annual Meeting

In the fall of 2022, the National Park Service Harpers Ferry Center (HFC) embarked on a year-long project aimed at understanding the conservation practices and materials used to care for outdoor iron cannons, thanks to a generous grant from the Samuel H. Kress Foundation (administered by the Foundation for Advancement in Conservation and the Gettysburg Foundation). Outdoor cannons and artillery are subject to humidity and temperature extremes, airborne abrasives, pests, ultraviolet radiation, and prolonged moisture from weather-related events. Routine exposure to these conditions can cause premature failure of protective coatings and paint systems, leading to rust and eventual deterioration of the metal structure. As a result, the public display and interpretation of the historic cannons can appear as general disrepair and neglect. Current procedures for treating these objects involve clearing the surface of corrosion and the removal of previous coating systems, followed by the application of a new protective primer and top-coat system. Cannon coatings have traditionally been paints, but over the past few decades new materials have been introduced, including: epoxies, polyurethanes, water-based emulsions, and other materials that offer a more durable, longer-lasting coating system that can be applied safely and more efficiently.

The basic procedure for coating outdoor cannons and artillery is relatively straightforward and understood by conservators and caretakers alike. However, the complexity lies within the selection and application of an optimal coating system deemed appropriate for an individual cannon. This selection is primarily informed by specific condition issues observed, previous treatment campaigns, the cannon’s geographic location and immediate environment, and consideration of the personnel available and responsible for coating procedures.

This research project focused on compiling and interpreting data to create a comprehensive resource that delineates specific materials, equipment, procedures, and considerations for the treatment and cyclic maintenance of outdoor iron cannons. By surveying the condition of 192 cast iron cannons on display around Gettysburg National Military Park memorial field, interviewing and receiving treatment case studies of past NPS projects, and performing the application of several treatment materials, a final “Resource for Understanding Conservation Coatings for Outdoor Iron Cannons” was produced that can be utilized by conservators and collections caretakers alike in planning and supervising coating treatment campaigns.

A 17th-century diorama with wax figures titled St. Jerome in the Desert provided a unique opportunity for technical study and conservation treatment at the Straus Center for Conservation and Technical Studies at the Harvard Art Museums. A skillfully executed example of a rarely encountered art form from this period, the diorama captures many facets of religious life in 17th-century Italy as a devotional object with overtones of memento mori. As is the case for many wax objects dating from this period, the diorama blurs the lines between religious object, work of fine art, and anatomical model. The artist, Caterina de Julianis, was a Neapolitan nun whose legacy has been overshadowed by that of her male teacher in art historical scholarship; few firmly attributed examples of her work exist in public collections. The goal of the project was therefore to add to the body of knowledge about this artist’s working methods and materials and to shine a light on a lesser-known female artist, as well as to prepare the object for eventual display. The diorama is composed of a wooden frame built around an interior box enclosed behind glass, which contains pigmented beeswax figures and scenery, glass, an oil painting on copper, and plant fiber elements. Careful consideration was made in the decision to open the enclosed diorama to accurately assess its condition and facilitate instrumental analysis. This investigation characterized the artist’s materials and techniques but also revealed the presence of old and unstable restoration materials, many of which were obscuring original surfaces. The specific locations of these materials indicated that the previous restoration campaign involved a near-complete disassembly and reassembly. Treatment involved surface cleaning, partial disassembly, removal of old restoration materials, consolidation, and aesthetic compensation. Although the treatment necessitated a degree of compromise due to changes made during the previous restoration campaign, it ultimately resulted in stabilization and improved legibility of the composition.

The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum is undergoing a multi-year renovation project that has enabled some of our aviation treasures to be thoroughly examined for the first time in decades. One such artifact is a glider built and sold by the German aviation pioneer, Otto Lilienthal. Lilienthal studied aerodynamics and methodically tested various wing designs through the 1890’s. He was a great inspiration to the Wright brothers, who adopted his experimental approach and built on his data. Lilienthal flew more than 2000 flights and established the first factory for gliders to be sold to the public. The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum’s glider is one of the 9 “Normalsegelapparat” gliders Lilienthal sold to the public and is the only Lilienthal glider in the western hemisphere.

During the gallery renovation’s planning stages, an initial survey characterized the glider as needing only surface cleaning and stain reduction. Records indicated that the glider had gone through three previous restorations and that it was still in good condition. Upon closer inspection and during the more detailed treatment proposal phase, questions began to arise about the accuracy and structural stability of the glider. The fabric slated for stain reduction was a 1960’s replacement that was incorrectly constructed. The wood frame retained old repairs related to its first test flights alongside new breaks. The metal hardware was almost entirely replacements that mis-represented Lilienthal’s innovative design. The growing concerns warranted a thorough examination of the artifact. Traces of evidence extant on the original materials prompted extensive historical research and collaboration with Lilienthal experts in Germany. As we learned more about the artifact, our treatment protocol shifted towards reversing the previous ill-informed restorations and to embrace the new information derived from current collaborations and material analyses.

Navigating this changing course of the treatment plan yielded many pleasant surprises and some challenges. Newly revealed features of the glider, such as an early safety feature, a clearer understanding of the original hardware’s functional design, and the re-discovery of an original Lilienthal vertical stabilizer were all highlights of this process. However, the greatest challenge was in finding ways to “unrestore” the glider and reintegrate missing components without impacting the original elements. Historically relevant damages needed to be preserved while carefully retaining structural integrity with reversible repairs.

As we gained knowledge about our glider and considered our technical capabilities, we adjusted the treatment protocol. Guided by current ethical standards we utilized the highest level of craft skills to return the glider to its original configuration while expanding the field’s body of knowledge regarding Lilienthal gliders for all of the museums and scholars involved.

Conservation treatments done in museum settings often include the use of archival adhesives and high-grade solvents obtained from approved vendors. However, many of the objectsinmuseum collections have been made or previously repaired with adhesives that are not considered archival or conservation-grade, complicating the work of conservators that attempt to remove them. of special interest are thermoset and aged thermoplastic adhesives as they are virtually impossible to remove with traditionally-used solvents, together with the possibility of irreversible damage caused by their removal.

At the Yale Peabody Museum, after encountering numerous objects that had adhesives not affected by traditional solvents, we decided to search for non-traditional options. Previous work done on the removal of epoxy from a mastodon tusk using pineapple juice inspired our search for novel ways to treat objects. The long-term effects of epoxy resins have been known in conservation for decades, including persistent issues with aging properties and reversibility. Epoxies have been historically used in glass restoration but its use is not reserved only for this purpose; preparators and collectors often use it on large, heavy fossils and minerals due the adhesive’s strength in comparison to conservation-grade adhesives. The need to reverse epoxy joints that do not have a reversible adhesive barrier becomes fundamental for several object materials.

The goal of this work was to test the effectiveness of pineapple juice, as well as papaya and kiwi juices in the removal of aged adhesives, both from older objects and test samples. Older objects containing visible adhesives obtained at thrift stores were employed as test objects. Samples were obtained and analyzed using Fourier Transform Infrared Spectroscopy (FTIR) at the Institute for the Preservation of Cultural Heritage at Yale University. In addition, samples were prepared on plexiglass using adhesives known to have been used in the repair of objects, especially by the general public. These were then aged artificially. For the removal of the adhesives, all samples were treated with pineapple, papaya and kiwi juices, as well as with their corresponding enzymes (bromelain, papain, and actinidin, respectively).

Preliminary results suggest that the pineapple juice is able to soften some aged adhesives, which can then be removed mechanically. Not all objects are suitable for this kind of treatment, due to the possibility of staining, damage, and even increased risk of pest activity.

The most important goal of this study is not the identification of which adhesives these juices are able to remove or even whether the isolation of the enzymes is a better technique altogether, but to find a simple, non-hazardous method of adhesive removal in conservation. This goal becomes especially important when considering that many institutions worldwide are not able to purchase certain solvents as part of their daily practice due to cost, availability of high quality options, and even national security concerns. We hope this study is a first step in finding a good solution to a problem that is widespread in conservation.

Joe Kubert was a comic book artist legend, working famously for DC Comics creating Sgt. Rock and Hawkman, among others. His drafting desk was recently gifted to the Rochester Institute of Technology’s Cary Graphic Arts Center to be the center piece of the Cary Graphic Comic exhibit. Before it could be presented to the public the desk required undergoing some conservation treatment which required creative and collaborative process to solve its challenges. I am a book and paper conservator and initially asked to work on this project to find an unobtrusive solution to obscuring the prolific private contact information that covered the desk, without making it look like it was obviously redacted. As the project unfolded, much more needed to be done. Kubert’s desk required reattachment of handmade cardboard shelves that topped the desk all over. These were originally created and attached by various kinds of tape some of which had failed or were weakened These cardboard shelves also needed to bear weight as their contents had to be replaced. Their reattachment required creative use of linen tape, rare earth magnets, and adhesive combinations. Overarching all of this was the need to keep the aesthetic appearance as much as possible to 1) be as similar in appearance as when Kubert last used the desk and 2) the desk would be viewed closer than six feet within the exhibition space to minimize distractions. This project became a collaboration among myself, the curators, and other object conservators who assisted me in answering questions about the options and alternatives for the different challenges that came up along the way. This project was a joint effort between the Rochester Institute of Technology Cary Graphic Arts Center and myself, Heritage Conservation and Consulting.

In 1968, the Arizona State Museum (ASM) accessioned three dolls made in 1953 by Richard and Ilse Ottenberg. The dolls were made to commemorate the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II and include a Queen Elizabeth II doll and two Lady in Waiting dolls. The dolls were accepted during a period when the museum was building a global collection, but quickly became outliers in the ASM collections as the museum has since refined their mission to focus on Indigenous cultural materials of the southwest and northern Mexico. In 2022, the dolls were approved to be researched, treated, deaccessioned, and donated to a small, non-profit museum in Tucson.

The dolls were selected as a suitable technical study project given their little provenance, rarity, and how they represent an important form of craft not often discussed in conservation literature. Two other examples of Queen Elizabeth II Ottenberg dolls were found on auction websites, but no other examples of the Lady in Waiting dolls were located. As research progressed, it became evident that very little information about the Ottenbergs and their manufacture process was described in conservation or doll literature. Doll catalogues and auction sites classify the dolls as a composition material or a composite made of sawdust, glues, and other additives. However, analysis of the ASM’s Ottenberg dolls with Fourier-Transform Infrared Spectroscopy (FTIR) and Pyrolysis-Gas Chromatography Mass Spectroscopy (PyGC-MS) suggested otherwise. FTIR indicated calcium carbonate or a likely filler. PyGC-MS revealed a monomer for either isoprene or 1,3-pentadiene—the former suggesting a natural rubber while the latter a synthetic rubber. Limonene, a solvent used during rubber-manufacture, was also present in the PyGC-MS spectrum. These findings could suggest a rubber-based material or a mixture with rubber present. Research and additional analysis to specify the exact type of rubber-based material is ongoing and speak to the realities of using instrumental analysis to characterize an aged material with many additives. While data interpretation and further scientific research is ongoing, information gathered from preliminary analysis guided the conservation treatment of the dolls.

All three dolls required stabilization before being deaccessioned and donated. The head of the Queen Elizabeth II doll was broken at the neck with the head entirely detached. Both left feet of the Lady in Waiting dolls were also detached at the ankles. Research into conservation-grade adhesives used on rubbers and subsequent testing was conducted following scientific analysis. This led to the selection of Jade R for reattaching all elements Reattaching the head of the Queen doll was complex due to the limited points of contact for adhesive application. A mechanical attachment was developed in conjunction with Jade R to secure the head of the doll. The conservation of the Ottenberg dolls resulted in the stabilization and visual integration of the dolls, which are now stable enough to enter the care of an institution without conservation expertise. Additionally, the information gathered from scientific analysis and ongoing research have contributed to a body of knowledge about doll manufacture and materials from the early 1950s.

Maria Sol Escobar was known to most simply as the artist Marisol. Her most famous works are witty, blocky portraits, which often explore class divides while dealing with themes of feminism and isolation. She rose to fame in the early 1960s and retreated by the end of the decade. Though she continued to create art, she never again reached the level of fame she attained in the 1960s.

When Marisol passed away in 2016, her collection was bequeathed to the Buffalo AKG Art Museum. Amongst this collection are the two sculptures that this project focuses on: ABCDEFG & Hi (1961-62) and Father Damien (1966-67). These two sculptures are bookends to Marisol’s highest moment of fame. The dapper, suit and umbrella clad ABCDEFG & Hi was thought to represent an unknown man, whose identity was revealed partway through this project as the surrealist jeweler Carlos Alemany. This piece was created for the 1962 Stable Gallery solo show that made Marisol an overnight sensation. Five years later, Father Damien, a simple man who was motivated by compassion for the ill, became her subject matter. She expressed passion for Father Damien’s story and only a year later she herself began living a simpler life, retreating from fame, ending the decade in the way it began.

Although Marisol is a well-known artist, whose fame has been rekindling since her death, there have been very few studies of her materials and methods. Through multimodal imaging and scientific analysis, her techniques are given their due attention. X-radiography shows hidden construction elements, reflectance transformation imaging (RTI) and photogrammetry reveal marks not readily visible in raking light, UVA-visible fluorescence unveils the nature of a pearl tie pin, and x-ray fluorescence (XRF) analyzes the diamond set upon it. This research is especially meaningful as these sculptures will embark on a traveling exhibition of Marisol’s work, which will introduce the artist to new audiences across North America.

In addition to technical studies, the sculptures required conservation treatment. The main condition concerns in common were the loss of original elements, crucial to the reading of the works:Father Damien’shand and ABCDEFG & Hi’s original umbrella were both missing. The hand required replication and the umbrella needed replacement with a fitting substitution. The choice of replica material for the hand came down to ethical considerations of original material versus conservation grade replica. Because of the stability and the unique visual characteristics of the original material, a mixture of synthetic and natural waxes, the same material was chosen for the replica, with a discreet inscription at the bottom, identifying it as such. The umbrella had a storied history of replacements by the artist, so it was necessary that the chosen replacement of the 1962 version be removable, should later versions be desired for display. To meet this criterion, the umbrella was mounted using rare earth magnets and existing dowels. This research contributes to the technical understanding of Marisol’s work, providing new insight into her materials and working methods.

The Mariners’ Museum and Park was founded in 1930 as a nature reserve and a museum for any and all topics relating to humanity’s interaction with the waters. At the time of the museum’s founder, Archer Huntington was the owner of Newport News Shipbuilding and Drydock Company, and the institution was built by Huntington and Homer Ferguson, the shipyard’s president. Ever since, the museum has retained a relationship with local shipbuilding, Navy, Coast Guard, and other organizations relevant to the museum’s mission. The collecting mission of the museum is vast – any and all objects, art, books, and archival records associated with human interaction with the water. This is inclusive of maritime trade, exploration, naval conflict, lifesaving services, fishing, recreation, and many more areas. Materiality within the collection is equally varied as a result, with objects ranging from watercolor art on paper, to bronze and iron artillery, to modern racing catamarans with composite carbon fiber, titanium, and aluminum. While this breadth of collecting captures as complete a history of maritime activity as possible, it can also have some unexpected consequences, as not all of the materials which are collected are benign.

As part of an ongoing survey of storage conditions, conservators identified a subset of objects with the potential for high risk to personnel and infrastructure, consisting of artillery, ordnance, ammunition, and incendiary devices. In this aspect, the museum’s collection extended beyond the limits of in-house experience to safely analyze and mitigate hazards, with objects such as 19th and early 20th century lifesaving and distress flares, whaling bomb lances, and military ordnance. In dealing with these objects, Mariners’ Museum sought advice from Naval History and Heritage Command (NHHC). NHHC collections carry similar themes and materials to Mariners’ Museum, and their recent experience verifying that the inert status and documentation of their ordnance is in alignment with modern military standards could be adapted to fit the civilian materials at Mariners’ as well. Following NHHC’s recommendations and working with regional Explosive Ordnance Disposal teams, Mariners’ Museum established procedures and policy to retain as much material as possible while mitigating any active dangers to people and collections facilities. This presentation will detail the ordnance survey results, the decision-making process for retention of materials, and the results and consequences of the process, following the collection of incendiary flares as examples. By detailing this information, this provides an example of some of the unexpected dangers that can be found in collections, a system for flagging and mitigating those dangers, and resources and information for other institutions to help facilitate non-destructive and less-destructive inerting of active incendiary and explosive devices.

Mohamed Zouzaf is a contemporary artist who is best known in certain parts of Europe and his home country of Morocco. However, even those new to his work will feel familiarity and warmth in their hieroglyphic and petroglyphic symbology. He draws deeply on his Amazigh culture’s traditions and languages to create a fluid, but meticulous composition that invokes a meditative, almost spiritual connection with viewers who engage with his pieces.

One of his works though, despite all its beauty, has created a conundrum for several conservators since its creation in the late 90s as it is both a work of art and a functional object meant to exist outside of a museum setting. The piece is a composite object—a double-sided four panel paravent screen comprised of paper-covered plywood covered with multiple parchment fragments and fit into a carved wood frame—all attached and built by the artist. Zouzaf used the skins in their entireties as the basis for his drawings, often preserving their curving arcs and sharp angles when cutting down the skins into pieces, then puzzling them together across the panels to create a harmonious form. The parchment pieces are decorated with Zouzaf’s unique symbols using handmade pigments from materials gathered in the Atlas Mountains and finished with an unknown coating that gives the screen a glowing golden quality.

All of these components have their own conflicting properties that were enhanced by the fact that it is meant to exist in a lived environment—and that the final environments it passed through ended up being vastly different from that of its origin of Morocco. Most prominent of the concerns affecting the screen was the failure of the original adhesives used to attach the parchment to the panel. This separation began shortly after the screen left Morocco and resulted in it being conserved twice—once in Paris, France and once at NEDCC in Andover, MA—before the third, most recent intervention. In conducting the most recent treatment of this piece at NEDCC again, the previous methods were examined more closely and modified to find the balance needed to straddle the line between artistic intent, environmental restrictions, and object materiality by drawing on traditional conservation parchment mounting techniques as a foundation. Various paper and protein substrates were tested, as well as broad range of adhesives to determine the most flexible and stabilizing solution. Reacting to and the reactivity of the treatment provided a unique challenge as the addition of hinges to hold the pieces in a way that embraced the artist's intent, but allowed for intentional flexing was not an easy line to walk. Overall, it was hoped that utilizing an adaptive attachment would result in less future interventive work while embracing the living nature of the paravent's components.

National Park Service Harpers Ferry Center (HFC) has a long history of working with Sitka National Historical Park on the preservation of their outdoor totem pole collection located throughout the park's Totem Trail. Since the early 1980s, HFC Conservators have performed detailed condition surveys, conservation treatments, and collaborative work with local Indigenous carvers. Over the years, detailed condition assessments of the poles have focused on pest damage, pole and support post structural issues, repair performance, and more recently- the efficacy of cyclical maintenance procedures. This comprehensive documentation resource has served as a reference point for how the poles are aging in the coastal rainforest, ultimately informing the duration of their display in Totem Trail. The documentation has also been a useful baseline source to which all current and future condition assessments are compared.

In recent years, HFC Conservators have observed an influx of previously unrecorded condition issues and unanticipated problems associated with climate change, increased tourism, and the effects of the COVID-19 global pandemic. Coastal erosion and increased annual precipitation have influenced pole fabrication techniques by Indigenous carvers and rerouted designated pole installation sites, while global warming has introduced new migrations of wood-damaging insects to southeast Alaska. The Alaska cruise ship tourism boom has generated a spike in park attendance, which correlates with an influx in pole graffiti and damage associated with vandalism. Atmospheric and environmental pollutants are being emitted by nearby “overflow” cruise ships now docked in close proximity to Totem Trail. Conversely, the absence of tourists and community members along the trail during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic escalated bear and squirrel activity, resulting in more severe damage to the lower parts of poles and new nesting areas inside support posts and pole cavities.

As a result, conservators, carvers, and park staff have had to pivot their approaches to preserving, carving, and caring for the totem poles and reevaluate current practices being implemented. This presentation will cover the transformation of preservation efforts by HFC Conservators along Totem Trail throughout the years, the impact of climate change and tourism, recent collaboration and insight from local carvers, and the trajectory for preservation efforts in the future.

Thornton Dial (1928-2016) was a bricklayer, an iron worker, and a carpenter, but today he is most well known as an artist. He spent his life in Bessemer, Alabama where he developed a rich self-taught practice using found objects that had been used and discarded by others to create art. He would join his found materials together and then finish everything in paint, noting that the work, “ain’t finished till you got the feeling that it’s finished.” Dial’s work was largely unknown until the founding of the Souls Grown Deep Foundation in 2010 which led to his art being in museum collections across America.

Glenstone’s collection has two works exemplifying Dial’s use of found objects, The Color of Money: The Jungle of Justice, 1996 and The Art of Alabama, 2004. Both artworks required conservation attention, offering a unique opportunity to delve into a singular Artist’s process while developing individual treatment plans for each piece’s unconventional materials. The Color of Money is an assemblage painting with overlayed found materials, including clothing, plastic toys, faux plants, epoxy, and metal, secured to canvas on wood. The surface is finished with dark green spray paint, with splashes of red, yellow, orange, and blue paint scattered across. The Art of Alabama has three-components: an assemblage sculpture, a wooden box, and a yellow painted concrete statue. The assemblage is made of wood, metal cans, plastic bottles, bones, fabric, and metal scraps, all joined together with wires and paint splattered across the surface. The wooden box is painted, with collaged newspaper clippings on one side. Treatment for The Color of Money needed to address a detached cotton ball, detached and cracked epoxy, and areas of lifting components. The Art of Alabama required a more complex treatment, including stabilizing and filling losses in the concrete statue, consolidating lifting newspaper and fragile paint on the wooden box, and consolidating the lifting paint throughout the assemblage.

The Color of Money includes plastic bags, Splash Zone epoxy, cotton balls, and acrylic paint, all of which I sourced to create mock-ups and carry out extensive testing prior to treatment. With The Art of Alabama, the condition issues were more difficult to re-create with the available resources and instead relied more on my past-experiences treating similar materials. Pulling from paper and paintings conservation, the results of my The Color of Money tests, and conversations with conservation colleagues, I developed comprehensive treatment plans for both artworks. During the treatments, I was confronted with unforeseen challenges – unidentified bones, paint that was stiff and brittle, wood that was significantly deteriorated, and fragile plastics. With each obstacle, I modified my techniques, ensuring I approached distinct materials with the necessary care. The treatments were successful in stabilizing all components, allowing both artworks to be safely exhibited. Storage solutions were modified for better preservation when the works are not on view. These two Dial artworks shared many similarities, but each piece presented its own set of challenges that strengthened my understanding of materials and broadened my conservation toolbox.

As part of a 2002 gift from the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, the Walters Art Museum acquired a large architectural Thai Buddhist pulpit or thammat. A thammat is a raised platform used in temple complexes by Buddhist monks for teaching and recitations. Historical examples of thammats in Thailand range from small thrones to elaborate pavilions. The Walters’ thammat is an elaborate example outside of Thailand and, at fourteen feet tall, an unusually large object in the museum’s collection. The raised wood platform, accessed by ladder, is topped with six columns that support a double-eaved roof with heavily ornamented gables, cornices, and brackets. The entire wood structure was originally assembled using pressure-fit wood joinery with a limited number of forged nails. Much of the exterior surface is decorated with an elaborate scheme of carvings, lacquer, and spectacular mirrored glass mosaics.

The Walters’ thammat is a rare example of this type of architecture in a museum collection. When acquired, it was disassembled into over 100 pieces and placed in storage. Almost two decades had passed when the curatorial team decided to include it in a new permanent installation of Asian and Islamic art. Objects conservators coordinated the project to assess, document, treat, and assemble this object for the first time at the museum. As much architecture as object, the thammat posed many challenges, including minimal prior documentation of the construction, limited onsite working and storage spaces, challenges in moving large sections, deterioration of original components, a non-original coating, work in public spaces during COVID restrictions, and the coordination of a large team of staff and outside contractors to accomplish the work.

Examination, historical research, and materials analysis yielded new insights into the original manufacture, history, and condition of the thammat. Among the greatest surprises and challenges was the degree to which the structural integrity of the thammat had been compromised by previous interventions. While treatment of decorative surfaces was difficult and time-consuming, significantly more effort than originally anticipated was needed to reestablish structural integrity for safe installation- and eventually, deinstallation. The intricacies of this puzzle and the large size of the thammat necessitated creative problem solving to test fit sections numerous times and carefully label and document each part.

This work culminated in two days during which custom scaffolding was built and conservators collaborated with specialized contract art handlers to finalize the assembly. The thammat has anchored the new Southeast Asian galleries at the Walters since 2023, where it continues to engage visitors with its scale, placement, and glittering decoration. Throughout the project, cross departmental museum staff worked together to share discoveries and develop more interactive and inclusive ways of sharing findings in the galleries.

The Balboa Art Conservation Center has been on a path to redefine what it means to be a conservation nonprofit and a regional center that is responsive to the ever-changing needs of who we serve. Questions arose, such as “What is our duty to serve the communities in our region beyond traditional collections care services and support?” and “Who is our audience?”. Students and educators outside of the conservation sphere were quickly identified as an audience and community for possible collaborations. With the majority of the advanced conservation training and recruitment efforts to introduce conservation to undergraduate students and K-12 students located on the east coast, BACC undertook the responsibility of fulfilling this need in the west.

BACC is also joining a larger call and mission to diversify the field of art conservation by making the field accessible to underrepresented communities. With programs already in place to serve college-level students or recent graduates interested in conservation, BACC decided to work with a younger audience to introduce the concepts of cultural heritage, preservation, and conservation earlier in their education. With these goals, BACC embarked on establishing its Workforce Development Initiative, designing and implementing programming to engage students at all educational levels in conservation. Over the past year, the programming has taken multiple shapes, as we have responded to the needs of our educational partners.

Ultimately, a train-the-trainer model was adopted with the idea that conservation education can be integrated into curricula. This is essential for establishing a sustainable outreach and advocacy model that is not dependent upon BACC’s ongoing intervention and for dismantling existing barriers to conservation knowledge. A training bootcamp and toolkit were designed to support educators in introducing conservation to students in a classroom setting, weaving the ideas of preservation and conservation into their already established lesson plans and curricula to instill the concept of cultural heritage preservation. This will prepare students for conservation training in higher education or career settings and also highlight the role of preservation and conservation in the larger arts and culture ecosystem. While there are other conservation toolkits and K-12 education models in existence, they are mostly designed to be used in a museum setting and designed for people who are familiar with cultural heritage, preservation, and conservation language and concepts.

This presentation will focus on one case study, the partnership between BACC and a 5th grade teacher at Freese Elementary in San Diego, CA. During the partnership, BACC discovered that the interest and demand for this type of curriculum and training exists within the education system, that there are vast funding avenues for this training, and that the work is strengthened by collaborating with professionals outside the field of conservation, capitalizing on their expertise and skills to engage new audiences. Through this program, BACC is investing long-term in our San Diego community, and we hope this is a model that can be replicated elsewhere.

Grief is how we respond to a loss. The first thing that may come to mind when we think of grief is the loss of a loved one, but the stages of grief also apply to a much wider range of losses. To varying degrees, losing a friendship, an opportunity, or having to make peace with not achieving a goal we had for ourselves are all losses we must deal with in life and to which most of the grieving stages apply.

In the fall of 2022, I treated a cellulose acetate negative and ended up damaging the object beyond any possible use. Reviewing that treatment and how I reacted both professionally and personally to the situation allowed me to realize that I was grieving the loss of the object that was under my care and responsibility.

This presentation explores how the 'Seven Stages of Grief' model, developed in the field of psychology in the 1960s, applies to how a conservator might react and feel when conservation treatment ends up causing more harm than good. This philosophical and ethical reflection aims to normalize and acknowledge the emotional impact of bad outcomes and how it might affect our future decision-making processes in the short and long term for better and for worse. It is also a reminder of the importance of constantly maintaining best practices and adhering to the code of ethics of our profession.

The shift away from object-centered toward people-centered prioritization in decision-making for collections care and treatment approaches (see Clavir 2002 for example) is now core to professional practice as specified in AIC’s Essential Competencies (2021). Conservators must have a foundation in “understanding issues arising from the ways that cultural heritage will be accessed or used, balancing stakeholders’ needs with risks to the works, sites, or users” and “understanding of and sensitivity to the significance and values of cultural heritage in formulating preservation and conservation plans, treatments, analyses, testing and research.” We develop this understanding in many different ways, including by learning about those people for whom the item(s) being considered for conservation are important. 

Centering people is not to abandon our well-established conservation practices, but to complement them and the many choices we make by considering the impact we have on people through our treatments and care decisions. Bringing awareness to the role people play in conservation and developing a critical consciousness toward people and the impact of conservation work on people can help conservators make ethical care choices. If that consciousness is also an ingredient in developing robust and productive relationships, then developing empathic consciousness should be a goal in educating conservators. 

This presentation shares the research methods used to consider how to cultivate critical consciousness in a conservation education setting. The research is attempting to build an understanding of how to place the ethics of care (sometimes referred to as feminist ethics) into conversation with collections care by examining students’ critical consciousness of the relationship between objects and people via baskets. Using Fink’s taxonomy for significant learning, we explore the human and caring dimensions in which students learn to care for objects and people. 

Students in a basketry course served as a case study group. Their orientation towards people and also towards objects was measured at the start and end of the course with a survey, they were given written reflective assignments, and they were interviewed toward the end of the course to gauge if there was a change in their orientation towards either people or objects and to attempt identification of what specific educational methods played a role in engendering any change. The course was structured through a scaffolded series of lessons, research, and making activities that thread cultural learning and identification of object significance throughout. 

By identifying the conditions for critical consciousness development, we can explicitly teach it. When we encourage students to consider the people who make, use, and appreciate the objects they treat, the future conservators are better positioned to consider the impact of their treatment decisions and make choices that support those people. Since objects take on their importance based on values we ascribe to them, the ability to consider a range of value perspectives allows conservation practitioners to bring a more holistic approach to their work. A sustainable future of collections care must include meaningful considerations of those people who most care about the materials that we are preserving and conserving.

The process of conservation documentation in the course of treatment is intrinsic to the ethical transmission of the conservator’s work. It records the state of an object before, during and after the changes brought about by treatment. It provides a chronicle of decisions made and actions taken. It is also meant to exist in perpetuity with the treated object as a critical archive of change in history over time. Considering the significant value that the process of documentation holds in understanding a collection object, it is strange to think that conservation documentation is rarely if ever easily accessible to researchers or scholars outside the holding institution. Especially given the impact that conservation work can have on the scholarly interpretation, why is our documentation not more widely available?

In the spring of 2022, following a substantial catalog migration, a small, interdisciplinary team at the University of Illinois Library decided to undertake the above question. Specifically, they hoped to pilot a project that allowed historic conservation documentation to be linked to existing catalog records for special collection items and view through the U of I’s existing Digital Library platform. Such a tool would allow for the conservation history of collection items to be a part of academic interpretation, but furthermore, could directly point to the time and care taken for our collections, as well as an access point for conservation education to bring our otherwise “behind-the-scenes" field to the fore.

A straightforward idea in theory, the team quickly found a complex matrix of considerations to make this tool a reality. Creating a metadata profile in the absence of a clear and controlled vocabulary, or even consistent application of terms or writing conventions from practitioner to practitioner, was the first of multiple challenges. Making pragmatic choices for the user interface was yet another. The degree to which the treating practitioner was identified, a further question still. To what extent are we responsible to provide context for understanding conservation treatment documentation in addition to making it accessible? and would each of the U of I Library’s Special Collections have equal enthusiasm for having their collection objects represented to the public in this way? This paper discusses the pathway towards truly making our conservation documentation fully accessible and the success and set-backs we are encountering along the way.

How do users experience items in protective enclosures? Are they confident about how to use them, or do they feel uncertain? The experiences that researchers have while using the collections affect whether they feel included, respected, and empowered. The processes for paging items, using reading rooms, and handling objects can be intimidating and hard to navigate. If we don’t provide instructions or make a process universally understandable, we limit who will use these valuable materials.

In the Enclosures Lab of Harvard Library Preservation Services, we strive to create enclosures for library materials that are intuitive to use. However, until recently, our ideas about what is intuitive were based only on our own speculation. Because of our deep familiarity with preservation enclosures, our experiences were likely to be different from those of our users.

As far as we know, no research has been done on the usability of preservation enclosures. In 2022 we partnered with the Harvard Library’s User Research Center to conduct a study of how library users engage with common enclosures used in the Harvard Library collections. We chose four structures to investigate: a three-flap phase box fastened with strings and washers, a corrugated clamshell box, a cloth-spine portfolio fastened with velcro, and a corrugated two-piece drop-front box. The eleven study participants included Harvard students and library staff members.

The participants were first asked to tell us about their level of experience using preservation enclosures. Then they were asked to open each enclosure, remove the item, replace it, and re-close it. We also asked for their feedback about the experience of using each enclosure. While observing the participants, we took notes that we later analyzed as a group for our final report.

The participants all expressed care for the library materials and the desire to handle them correctly. By design, the enclosure cued participants to handle the item with care, but many said they believed the item inside wasn't meant to be handled by them. Some pain points in using the enclosures included uncertainty about the order in which to close the flaps, not identifying or knowing how to use the drop front on the two-piece box, and uncertainty about the correct orientation of the box. Users expressed a desire for clearer instructions on handling the enclosure and the item inside.

We then queried the conservation community at Harvard and the AIC book and paper online community for examples of instructional labeling for library enclosures and used the results to improve upon our labeling. In October 2023 we completed a follow-up study in which users gave feedback on enclosures with improved labeling. Labels substantially decreased the confusion that we noted in the previous study. Users showed a preference for instructional diagrams and “friendly” language about care and handling.

Through this case study we hope to inspire our colleagues to become curious about the uncertainty their users bring to their interactions with preservation enclosures, and illuminate opportunities for creating enclosures that people can safely and confidently use in their research.

Often, the way to deal with complexity is to create categories that allow us to make sense of the world. However, challenge arises when those structures become rigid and siloed, allowing previously assumed knowledge to become the accepted theory. Over the four years of the Mellon-funded “Assessing the Condition of the National Collection” project, the preservation staff at the Library of Congress compared 500 of the same paper-based volumes of the same title from five different research libraries in distinct environmental regions of the United States through photo-documentation, visual assessment, and physical, chemical, and optical test methods. These roughly 2500 volumes were published throughout a 100-year period from 1840 to 1940, when Western paper production experienced wide-ranging changes, such as shifts from rag to wood pulp, sizing chemistry, and the use of new paper-making equipment. During testing, we were confronted daily with observations and technical data that did not align with our accepted assumptions of book paper materiality. We quickly found that sets of the “same” book frequently showed more differences than similarities in their materiality. We were expecting these “same” titles to largely be identical to each other. However, roughly 25% of the time, different copies of the same title showed evidence of significant differences in materiality, spanning printers’ marks, predicted pulp composition, and physico-chemical properties. Our new “assumptions” were instead that the sets of books from this time period were surprisingly likely to be different in composition. These variations in composition were also found within the same volume, where at least 15% of books tested had multiple paper types. While mixed paper types within one volume are not completely unknown, the extent of their occurrence surprised us, making it difficult to generalize about specific measurements from a single volume when we could clearly see material differences within that book. Some variations led to deeper explorations of why these trends occurred and what the practical preservation consequences might be. Some explanations may implicate societal changes that resulted in considerable experimentation in paper production, such as WWI, the economic downturn, increased mechanization, and different interest levels in specific literary categories. We found that the different geographic regions holding these books had no connection to their current condition. The technical testing data was complex and multivariate, offering no immediate clarity. To deal with this complexity, chemometrics and statistical modeling methods were employed to allow for the identification of subtle trends and more careful or alternative groupings in the data, such as the extent to which colorimetric properties can or cannot correlation to the physical condition. This work will discuss the various upending of our assumptions and broader learnings from this project as we continue to explore its data.

Arsenic is a well-known hazardous material with potentially severe short and long-term health consequences that was a common component of 18th, 19th, and 20th century collection items. These items include a wide variety of natural science specimens and taxidermy mounts, pharmaceutical materials, dyes in textiles and paper, and historic dry pigments. While our understanding of the breadth of arsenic presence in cultural heritage items is growing, especially with recent work on its identification in the “Poison Book Project,” it remains difficult to determine actual exposure risks to conservators, museum staff, and the public.

This joint session between the Preventive Care Network and the Object Specialty Group will acquaint participants with the range of collection items containing arsenic as an intrinsic component, and will help initiate discussions among conservators about hazards, handling, and access. Panelists will present brief case studies to provide examples of risk management, exposure assessments, and handling protocols to control risks associated with these collection items.

The founders of the Nasher Sculpture Center, Raymond and Patsy Nasher, began cultivating an exemplary collection of modern sculpture in the mid-1960s. During the proceeding decades of dedication to the arts, they befriended practicing artists; one such artist was American sculptor Beverly Pepper (December 20, 1922 - February 5, 2020). The Nasher archives contain exchanges between the Nashers and Pepper outlining acquisitions or offering personal updates. These letters – and other artwork archives – highlight the intimate nature of the Nashers’ collecting practice. Intermixed with these exchanges are questions regarding restoration and care of two Pepper works in the Nasher collection. Early on, Black Angel (1967) and Venezia Blu (1968), two large-scale outdoor sculptures composed of stainless steel and painted interior mild steel panels, posed challenges to their caretakers. This is evident in the need for repainting at regular intervals over the last forty years.

As one of the first artists to use and experiment with various steel alloys (including stainless and Cor-Ten), Pepper did not shy from complicated techniques. In 1962, she was invited to make work for a festival in Spoleto, Italy, for which she pushed through gender norms of the time and learned to weld. In these early metal sculptures, she sought to utilize these techniques and create a – seemingly more manageable – hollow form. Both Black Angel and Venezia Blu are composed of these repeating square units, as are others in collections around the world.

After reviewing conservation documentation for Black Angel spanning four decades, it became clear that nearly every Dallas-based sculpture practitioner had repainted the interior mild steel panels. Yet the underlying cause of persistent paint failure remained. Unfortunately, the hollow form composed of stainless steel and mild steel had fostered a generative environment for galvanic corrosion. While not unusual that this combination of factors would coalesce into material failure over time, additional mysterious factors within the construction of the pieces meant that the many documented attempts made to passivate and repaint the surface would only be temporary.

Knowing of structural issues concerning these works, Pepper encouraged employing outside specialists to repair her work, including auto-body experts. With approval from the Beverly Pepper studio and foundation, rather than attempting another treatment in-house, Black Angel was sent to a trusted stainless steel fabricator for assessment and repainting earlier this year. What was discovered upon paint removal resulted in the unforeseen decision to replace the corroded mild steel panels with stainless. This intervention was pursued after verification from stakeholders, as the goal was to restore the work to exhibitable form once again. Collaboration between the Nasher, the fabricator, and the artist’s studio and foundation aimed to set a benchmark in the treatment of these complex constructions; it also lead to a better understanding of the desired paint surface sheen and paint system options.

Beyond outlining material replacement and paint requirements, this paper hopes to prepare caretakers for what exists within the framework of these important pieces, and help catalyze action when faced with heavy decisions about their treatment.

A heavily restored early 19th century Staffordshire lead-glazed refined earthenware tankard bearing the rare inscription “AMERICA INDEPENDENT 1776” was recently gifted to The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. With the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence approaching, a great interest in displaying this tankard meant extensive conservation treatment needed to take place. The actual condition of the tankard on arrival was obscured by overpaint covering the entire surface. No records of prior restoration are known despite the object belonging to the family of the donor since the mid-19th century. Throughout this project I had to make treatment decisions in response to new information about the condition of the tankard as it was revealed, developing a plan in phases without knowing what the next phase would require. The surprises encountered along the way led to investigations that often yielded more surprising results.

Digital X-radiography prior to treatment revealed an impact fracture with associated fragments, cracks, and voids and past restoration campaigns with invasive repairs including extensive removal of original material to insert six metallic rivets across the cracks. Phase one of the treatment required removal of the overpaint to understand the condition of the ceramic surface. After numerous applications of a Laponite RD poultice with acetone, I removed the coating layers revealing quite a few surprises including a glaze that was heavily abraded in areas of past repair, localized amorphous black/brown stains, and lead rivets that were corroding and lifting from their cavities. This secondary examination revealed that the rivets were likely a preventive measure against the worsening of the cracks and served no structural repair function. FTIR analysis lent insight to the prior restoration materials used such as PVA bulked with gypsum, helping date some of the previous repairs to the mid-20th century. A ceramic repair reference book from this period makes specific mentions of techniques requiring the application of a rotary blade to remove ceramic body followed by the insertion of repair materials, almost identical descriptions of the present lead repairs and a loss at the rim of the tankard that was mechanically altered before filling. The amorphous, localized stains were less forthcoming with their origin story. SEM-EDS and XRF analysis were largely inconclusive and visual examination only confirmed the strange nature of the stains present both in areas with exposed ceramic body and beneath glaze that was intact.

With some questions answered and some remaining, I had to move forward with treatment despite a degree of uncertainty. I consulted recent publications, colleagues, and my own intuition for guidance and determined that safety and aesthetics were the priorities of this treatment. With full curatorial support, I proceeded with removing the lead rivets entirely as they posed a health and safety risk, were actively deteriorating, and served no structural purpose. I pursued stain reduction via bleach application where possible to unify the visual appearance of the tankard. The remaining aesthetic compensation aims to approach the original intention that the previous owners clearly valued without obscuring the present condition overall.

I came to the New Orleans Museum of Art in 2022 to take up the position of the first ever on-staff objects conservator, a role funded by a grant from the Mellon Foundation. This presentation will detail the work involved in founding a new program of outdoor sculpture conservation in a harsh climate, including research, maintenance, and remedial treatments.

NOMA has one hundred sculptures displayed outdoors, soon to be one hundred and one, mostly sited within the Sidney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden which surrounds the museum on its north and west sides. Some of these sculptures were previously installed for decades outside the headquarters of K&B Incorporated, the result of passionate collecting by the Besthoffs during Sidney’s years as CEO of that company. In 1998, the Besthoffs began aggressively donating works to NOMA for a planned 5 acre garden, which opened in 2003 with fifty sculptures. Steady donations continuing after the opening, mostly from the Besthoffs, were capped in 2019 with an expansion of the garden footprint by 6.5 acres and the addition of 27 further sculptures. Together, the two halves of the garden today have become a city institution in their own right: a magnet for out-of-town visitors, and a much-loved hangout and exercise location for residents.

Outdoor sculpture requires constant attention even in the most benign of climates, which New Orleans certainly is not. There are a number of serious challenges to preservation. Though only one sculpture suffered major damage from Hurricane Katrina in 2005, hurricanes are a constant concern, particularly for the three kinetic works. We often find paints have a shorter lifespan than the manufacturer suggests, likely due to the heat and humidity. The garden ponds and embankments teem with birds, nutria, and other animals which seem to delight in leaving droppings on all the sculptures. Visitors frequently climb on the sculptures, despite signage and staff presence. With only a few days per year of help from NOMA’s small and busy team of preparators, just keeping the sculptures clean is a challenge. A project management app helps with communication and documentation of group work days, streamlining a necessarily diffuse process and preventing confusion about which sculpture gets which treatment practices.

Beyond simple cleaning and waxing, many sculptures are overdue for major treatment. I began to study the treatment histories, paint systems, patinas, and artists’ preferences as soon as I arrived, but much is left to discover. In some cases, these issues are thorny, such as the Arnaldo Pomodoro, for which executing the artist’s current preferences would result in a substantial change from the sculpture’s original 1971 appearance. Several sculptures, in my opinion, were unsuitable for permanent outdoor display due to materials or design, and conversations are ongoing about which of these, if any, might be possible to relocate indoors. Preservation choices must be made in balance with the artists’ visions for their works, the needs of visitors, and the integrity of the garden as a total work of art in its own right.