Regarding Dürer, again: creases, tears and repairs

In a previous blog-post about the work I am undertaking on the collection of Dürer engravings at the Fitzwilliam Museum, I discussed the benefits of being able to compare a number of impressions of the same print. I also mentioned the historical practice of trimming sheets along, and sometimes within, the plate-mark. The latest batch of prints I have been working on contains two impressions of the print St Jerome in Penitence in the Wilderness (Fig. 1), which demonstrate this point.

Figure 1. St Jerome in Penitence in the Wilderness. Engraving, 1496. P.3123-R (left), & 22.I.3-65 (right).
Click on the image to enlarge.

Both are rich, well-inked impressions of the same state1 of the print. When compared it becomes obvious that 22.I.3-65 has had a strip of approximately 15mm cut from the top edge, probably to remove an area of damage. This impression is also interesting because it has a number of tight, diagonal creases in the sheet, extending from the top right corner deep into the printed image (Fig.2). We can’t be certain what the cause was: it is possible that they occurred when the sheet of paper was formed, but I think they are more likely to be printer’s creases2. They have disrupted the printed image, and at some point, a rather crude attempt has been made to disguise them by retouching the areas that didn’t print properly with black ink.

Figure 2. 22.I.3-65 Left, map of creases. Right, detail, retouched crease.
Click on the image to enlarge.

More care was taken to obscure a similar crease in the engraving The Four Witches (22.I.3-94). It is almost invisible to the naked eye, and was only revealed on the back of the sheet once it had been lifted from the mount (Fig.3). A restorer has applied very fine patches of paper to the front of the sheet, covering the area along the crease where the printing has been disrupted. The design was then carefully drawn in ink over the patches to match the surrounding image. This restoration becomes apparent when the sheet is viewed in transmitted light (Fig.4).

Figure 3. 22.I.3-94: The Four Witches. Engraving, 1497. Right, detail of crease.
Click on the image to enlarge.
Figure 4. 22.I.3-94 Left, reflected light. Right, transmitted light.
Click on the image to enlarge.

In this latest group of engravings there is another example of a very skilful repair which is really only visible under magnification. There is a complex tear to an impression of the print The Temptation of the Idler, also known as The Dream of the Doctor (22.I.3-103). The damage extends from the lower right edge of the sheet to the centre, through the standing figure of Venus at the right. It looks as though the restorer has had to pare the edge of the tear in places in order to achieve this near-invisible mend. When viewed from the back, these areas appear slightly darker as the printing ink is visible through the thinned paper fibres (Fig. 6).

Attitudes have changed and removal of original material, even very small amounts such as this, is not considered permissible in conservation today. But it is difficult not to marvel at these restorations: they clearly required huge skill and expertise.

During my treatment, I removed the lining paper from the print, and it was possible to wash the sheet carefully in order to reduce the discolouration without disturbing the tear. The print was then pressed, inlaid, and hinged into a new museum-board mount.

Figure 5. 22.I.3-103 The Temptation of the Idler. Engraving, 1498. Left, map of tear. Right, tear detail
Click on the image to enlarge.
Figure 6. 22.I.3-103 Left, verso detail. Right, thinning of sheet
Click on the image to enlarge.

Another impression of this print (P.3104-R) was given to the Museum by Arthur W. Young in 1934. The old mount carries some more fascinating and revealing inscriptions from scholars that I described in my previous post. In this instance, the notes suggest that both Thomas Barlow and Campbell Dodgson considered this impression inferior to the ‘existing’ one discussed above, and it was therefore a possible candidate for disposal. But there is also a comment from J.W. Goodison who spotted the disguised tear, and this might be the reason that both impressions were fortunately kept3:

‘? Reject. This is a very fine, but your existing impression is also brilliant & I don’t think you need keep both. Existing impn. is clearer & this one has staining top corner v. on the other hand it has a much better margin than existing impn. T[homas] B[arlow] Aug 35’

‘I think this is hardly wanted C[ampbell] D[odgson]’

‘Wd suggest keeping this as existing impn. has a bad damage J.W.G[oodison]’

In Barlow and Dodgson’s defence, some of the tell-tale discolouration along the tear may not have been visible when they inspected it.

Looking closely at these very beautiful prints during the conservation process continues to reveal fascinating aspects of their history.

 

 

Study and conservation of a miniature Egyptian coffin

In 2016 the Fitz made the headlines with a remarkable discovery: a miniature Egyptian coffin (E.43.1907) that had been thought to hold mummified organs was found to contain an embalmed human foetus, probably the youngest ever known to be buried in Ancient Egypt.

Figure 1. The miniature coffin featured in The Guardian.

The coffin had been X-rayed in preparation for the Death on the Nile exhibition, but when the results appeared inconclusive it was decided to CT-scan 1 its contents. This revealed a mummified foetus only 18 weeks into gestation, its arms ritually folded over its chest. It was wrapped in bandages, over which molten back resin had been poured before the coffin was closed.

Figure 2. Detail of the face and right ear.

The coffin that holds the bundle is of interest in itself. Excavated in Giza by the British School of Archaeology in 1907, it came to the Museum in the same year. Though the wood is poorly preserved and the painted surface entirely lost, surviving details of the face and ears show that it was skilfully carved. Measuring only 43cm in length, it is a fine example of an anthropoid coffin of the Late Period (664-525 BC), built on a tiny scale.

Figure 3. Diagram of a mortise with a loose tenon (copyright Geoffrey Killen and The Fitzwilliam Museum). Tenons in this coffin are pegged, meaning that a small dowel holds them in place from the side.

I recently re-examined the object with the aim of completing its technical study and assessing the condition of the fragile surface.

X-ray examination confirmed that box and lid are each carved out of a single piece of cedar wood2, joined by four pegged tenons on each side (Figs. 3 and 4). The deterioration of the wood is so severe that deep crevices are visible in X-rays of the box (Fig. 4).

Figure 4. X-ray image of the upper half of the box. Deep crevices are visible in the degraded wood. Four rectangular tenon holes can be seen around the edges, each one with lateral holes for pegs.

A powdery white material can be seen on the ears, face, chest and feet (Fig. 5), particularly in recessed areas. This shows that the surface would have been covered in a white preparation layer (typically calcite mixed with animal glue), applied over the wood to create a smooth surface for painting. Traces of black resin are also visible, which may be unintentional splashes from when the burial bundle was coated.

Figure 5. Detail of the feet, showing remnants of the white preparation layer and traces of black resin.

Although to the naked eye the surface appears to be bare wood, microscopic examination reveals occasional loose pigment particles. The main colour visible is blue, seen on the wig and the collar. This is likely to be Egyptian blue3, a glassy, copper-based frit4 commonly used in the ancient world, and one of the earliest synthetic pigments. Red, yellow, and green pigment particles are also visible under the microscope, but it is hard to be sure that these are original.

Figure 6. Fingerprint in black resin, visible on the outer surface of the coffin, on the proper right side. Microscopic image by Jennifer Marchant.

Close examination also reveals signs left by craftsmen at the time of manufacture: a fingerprint in black (Fig. 6), probably left at the time the coffin was closed after the molten resin was applied within; and chisel marks on the wooden surface around the head (Fig. 7), which might have served to roughen the surface before the preparation layer was applied.

Figure 7. Raking light reveals chisel marks around the head of the coffin. Image by Jennifer Marchant.

The surface was investigated further with an imaging technique known as Visible Light Induced Luminescence5 photography (VIL), used to detect the pigment Egyptian blue, and ultraviolet6 light (UV), which helps reveal the presence of varnishes and resins, but no further traces of the original decoration could be seen.

The fibrous structure of the wood is severely weakened by what appears to be brown-rot, a type of fungal degradation, also responsible for the pronounced fracturing of the surface (known as ‘cubing’). Entire sections of the surface are lost, particularly on the sides, but the head is better preserved. The surface layer easily crushes and powders on touch, a symptom of degradation of the wood structure at a cellular level.

Figure 8. The author carrying out consolidation treatment of the highly degraded surface under magnification.

The conservation treatment aimed to reinforce particularly degraded areas of the surface to avoid further losses. After cleaning with a soft brush, smaller wood fragments and highly deteriorated, fibrous areas were consolidated with a cellulose-based adhesive7, selected after testing due to its compatibility with wood and the fact that it did not change the appearance of the surface. Larger fragments were secured in place by inserting tabs of a long-fibre paper tissue soaked with a strong cellulose starch paste8. The powdery plaster and pigment residues had to be consolidated without touching the surface, as any contact with a brush would have picked up the loose particles. This was achieved by applying a consolidant9 in a mist using a nebulizer. For this treatment I chose Funori, a polysaccharide derived from dried red algae that has been used in Japan as an adhesive for over 300 years and is known for its excellent ageing properties and suitability for matte surfaces.

Though the coffin remains one of the most fragile objects in the Antiquities collection, the surface is now significantly stronger and less prone to losses, allowing for the coffin to be moved safely when needed for further examination and display.

 

Flavia Ravaioli
Objects Conservator, Research Associate
Fr306@cam.ac.uk

 

Acknowledgements

The mummified foetus was discovered by Helen Strudwick, Associate Curator (Egyptian Antiquities), and Julie Dawson, Head of Conservation, both from the Fitzwilliam Museum, in collaboration with Dr Tom Turmezei, Honorary Consultant Radiologist at Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge, and Dr Owen Arthurs, Academic Consultant Paediatric Radiologist at Great Ormond Street Hospital, London. Technical investigation of the coffin was carried out by the author and by Jennifer Marchant, Conservator of Antiquities and Assistant Keeper at the Fitzwilliam Museum. The wood species was identified by Caroline Cartwright, Senior Scientist at the British Museum, in 2006.

 

References

Jillian, H. and Z. Wyszomirska-Noga, ‘Funori: The use of a traditional Japanese adhesive in the preservation and conservation treatment of Western objects’, in Adapt & Evolve 2015: East Asian Materials and Techniques in Western Conservation. Proceedings from the International Conference of the Icon Book & Paper Group, London 8-10 April 2015. London: The Institute of Conservation, 2017. 69–79.

Strudwick, H. and J. Dawson (eds.) Death on the Nile. Uncovering the Afterlife of Ancient Egypt. The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. London: Giles, 2016.

 

Regarding Dürer…

There are 374 prints by Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528) in the Fitzwilliam Museum, many of which are fine and rich impressions, and a further 251 sheets attributed to followers of Dürer. I have recently enjoyed the opportunity to look closely at some of these prints as part of an ongoing project to conserve and remount them.

The prints come from a number of sources, including a core group of 127 engravings owned by Lord Fitzwilliam. These were bound together in an album (22.I.3) by Henry Woodburn in 1811, with Lord Fitzwilliam’s inscription on the fly-leaf title sheet, ‘Oeuvres / d’Albert Durer’. In 1876 the prints from this album, along with etchings, engravings and woodcuts from five others including Rembrandt and Martin Schöngauer, were sent to the British Museum for conservation and re-mounting.  The sheets were mounted individually in ‘sunk mounts’ of a standard Royal size (559mm 406mm), with gilded edges, and stamped with the lettering ‘Albrecht Dürer’ and a number corresponding to catalogue raisonnés of Dürer’s prints (Ottley and Bartsch) (Fig. 1). This type of mount was devised by the Department of Prints & Drawings at the British Museum around the middle of the 19th century in an effort to limit unnecessary handling of the sheets and reduce abrasion to the surface of works of art on paper that were previously stored loose in portfolios. A bevelled opening was cut in a piece of cardboard slightly larger than the print, a second ‘backboard’ was pasted to it and the print mounted in the aperture. The surface of the print sits below the surrounding board thus protecting it from wear.

Figure 1. 22.I.3-15 Virgin and Child with the Pear. Engraving, 1511. Before treatment, in British Museum mount

‘Today, the availability of paper board is taken for granted, but until the beginning of the 19th century it had been neither a widely used nor a readily procurable commodity […] In the British Museum, pure quality, stiff rag cream-coloured board from J M Whatman had been utilized from the 1840s. The high quality of this board is certainly a major factor in the fine condition of the Museum’s collections today.’1

Figure 2. Retouching to detached lining paper. Click on the image to enlarge

The opportunity to look very closely at these prints has revealed other work that appears to have been undertaken at the British Museum during remounting. It was common practice to adhere the prints to a thin machine-made paper; this lining supported torn or weak areas of the print and made it easier to attach the print to the mount without causing distortion. I have discovered examples where small losses to the original engravings have been very skilfully recreated, hand-drawn in ink on the lining paper (Fig. 2).

It is not uncommon for intaglio prints such as etchings and engravings, especially those by Old Masters, to be trimmed to the plate-mark (the indentation around the image created by the metal plate being pressed into the dampened paper as it moves through the press). There is often a printed ink line along this indentation created either by the artist as a drawn border to the image, or a result of ink residue not wiped from the extreme edge of the plate. Trimming of the sheets was often surprisingly haphazard with the very edge of the printed image sometimes being removed in the process.  As a result, prints with a complete margin, even when very narrow, are highly prized. The recent study of the Fitzwilliam’s Dürers has revealed some instances where missing sections of platemarks have been re-touched in ink, either on the primary support or the lining paper. We can be fairly confident that this was carried out when the objects were re-mounted as there is an example where the line has slipped slightly onto the mount (Fig. 3).

Figure 3. Error in the retouching of a plate-mark
Figure 4. Solubilized copying pencil. Click on the image to enlarge

There are also examples of prints that have a curious pink line at the plate-mark (Fig. 4). It is thought that these marks were made with a copying pencil.2 When dry, the marks of a copying pencil resemble graphite, but they contain an aniline dye that is soluble in water and permanently changes colour if it becomes wet. While purple/violet is most common, a range of colours has been noted.3 It is possible that the colour-change occurred due to moisture from the mounting adhesive.

Not all the prints are in good condition. For example, when viewed in transmitted light it becomes apparent that the impression of St Thomas (AD.5.22-201) is only a fragment of the original sheet and very thin in places (Fig. 5). It would have certainly sustained more damage without the support of the lining paper carefully applied at the British Museum.

Figure 5. AD.5.22-201 St Thomas. Engraving, 1514. Left, reflected light. Right, transmitted light. Click on the image to enlarge

There are fascinating inscriptions on some mounts where scholars have noted the merits or flaws of various impressions. Describing an impression of the engraving Virgin and child with the pear (P.3092-R), given to the Museum by Arthur W. Young in 1934, Thomas Barlow writes, ‘It seems to me an unusually brilliant impression with this mark (anchor in a circle watermark).  It is more like a Bull’s Head impression. Your existing impression is excellent and a more pleasing impression, this is rather over inked on the right side. But a very interesting impression. I should be very chary of disposing of it.’4 Campbell Dodgson added his agreement below: ‘It is very fine, shows platemark more completely, and ought to be kept.’5

Figure 6. 22.I.3-15 detail (left) & P.3092-R detail (right) Virgin and Child with the Pear. Engraving, 1511. Click on the image to enlarge

Subtle differences between impressions can be noted within the collection. The ink is a little blurred in places on the impression of the Virgin and Child with the Pear on the right, where the plate was less thoroughly wiped (Fig. 6). The dramatic loss of richness and detail, the result of a worn printing plate, becomes apparent when comparing two impressions of St. George on Foot (Fig. 7).

Figure 7. 22.I.3-84 (left) & AD.5.22-157 (right) St. George On Foot. Engraving, 1502. Click on the image to enlarge

The mounts are now nearly 150 years old and, while the materials used were the best available at the time, they are showing their age. There are handling marks which would be distracting if the works were displayed, and the mounts are also generally much thinner than those we would use today. The linings make the prints look unnaturally flat and prevent access to the back of the sheets, which can often provide valuable information to researchers. A number of pale brown/orange spots have also developed over time. They occur on both the prints and mounts which suggests they are a result of either impurity in the board or in the adhesive used to attach the prints (Fig. 8).

Figure 8. 22.I.3-11 Virgin and child crowned by two angels. Engraving, 1518. Detail before treatment, showing discoloured spots. Click on the image to enlarge

Inevitably with a collection of this size, the documentation and conservation project will take some time to complete and I hope to update this blog with further observations as the work continues. The approach to treatment is dictated by the condition of each print, but in many cases they are being lifted from the old mounts once all the original inscriptions have been recorded.

Figure 9. 22.I.3-20 Virgin and Child with a Monkey. Engraving, 1498. Verso with lining partially removed

Where possible, the linings are being removed (Fig. 9) and the adhesive used to attach them is reduced or removed.  This process has already revealed some interesting inscriptions and collector’s stamps. The papers used to make these prints are beautiful and very good quality: they have responded well to washing treatments and the spotty discolouration has reduced to a point where it is no longer distracting (Fig.10).

Tears and losses are repaired and the original British Museum retouched fills are being retained in-situ where appropriate. Once the prints have been lightly pressed they are inlaid into a slightly larger sheet of paper, a technique that allows access to the back of the sheet, and remounted in 100% cotton Museum-board mounts.

I am hopeful that this work will continue to protect these beautiful prints for another 150 years.

Figure 10. 22.I.3-84 St George on foot. Engraving, 1502. Before (left) & after (right) treatment. Click on the image to enlarge

Rehousing the Egyptian Organics

The Fitzwilliam Museum is well known for its large and diverse collection and the Department of Antiquities alone holds 27,000 objects. The public galleries represent approximately one tenth of this, with other objects packed away in storage areas. The best and most interesting of these are swapped onto display, many other objects, including small items such as pottery sherds and beads, are accessed by researchers whilst in storage. As Departmental technicians, one aspect of our job, is caring for the objects, both on display and in storage, and working alongside the conservators and curators to ensure that they are housed a suitable way, which will help guarantee their longevity and condition.
In the Antiquities stores, as with many museums, space is limited. With many objects kept in storage, it is an on-going job to rearrange both store and the objects, so that the collection can be best accommodated into the minimum amount of space, but remain accessible to researchers. A recent project that is part of this reorganisation is the Egyptian Organics.
As the name suggests, these are Egyptian objects, varying in types of organic material and design. They are extremely sensitive to changes in environmental conditions and insect pest attack, so it is best for them to be stored together, where we can keep a close check on these factors. They have been stored in temporary tray-stacks in several different places, and we were keen to get them repacked, documented and rehoused together.

How are we doing it?
There is quite a bit of work that will go into rehousing this material, it is not a simple case of just transporting them to a new cupboard or box. Each object is assessed individually through a multi-stepped process.

How the objects have been stored previously.

Up until now, the organics have been stored in these large trays. They are lined with inert foam and acid free tissue, however some objects were not as well supported as we would like and we were keen to refresh the tissue and reduce some of the cramped storage. Some objects had also become separated from their information or component parts.
Each object was taken out, photographed and assessed for its conditions and needs. Information on each object is imported into a spreadsheet, which includes details such as the museum number, a brief description of what the object is, what types of deterioration are present, whether there are old repairs, or metal components. We also gave it a condition grade out of 5, with 1 being in the best condition (similar to the condition of the objects out in the galleries) and 5 being the worst, meaning it might need immediate treatment.


Organics being photographed, documented on the spreadsheet and labelled up.

The museum number is usually written somewhere on the object itself. It may seem strange to permanently mark the object, but it is the best way to ensure the number remains attached, as labels and tags can easily fall off and become disassociated. These days, when marking an object we do it in a way that is reversible and not harmful to the object, but pieces that arrived in the collection in the past sometimes have the number directly applied to the surface. The museum number is how we identify the object, it links it to all its records and documentation, including information on when and where it was found, and how it came to be part of our collection.

An object like this would be hard to identify if we didn’t know its museum number. Luckily it has survived and is still legible.

This tells us that this object came into the museum in 1943, and it was the 5842nd object to be accessioned that year. It means we can easily access all the documentation and provenance for this object. By looking at the online database, we can find out that E.GA.5842.1943 is a figure of a Pygmy with a monkey on its shoulder.

Once you know what the object is supposed to be, it is a lot easier to recognise.
When all his information is recorded, and his label is attached, he is nestled into new acid free tissue paper and placed into a lidded plastic tray.

Even though his museum number is clear to read, giving him a second visible label means we do not have to handle him to check his number in future, thus minimising further damage.

Sometimes, due to the condition of the object (or the handwriting!) the legibility of the number can become a problem. If we are not sure of the number, we can check it against our Slip Books. For many, but not all of the objects, these Slip Book records were created at the time the objects were given a number. They contain lots of useful information, including drawings and sketches of the objects (as this was before cameras were readily used) which can be used to match the object correctly.


Object with its Slip Book entry and drawing.

These drawings are extremely helpful as we can determine what state the objects where in when they arrived and how they are faring now in comparison. It is important to note that the condition of most of these objects has barely deteriorated since they arrived at the Museum. Some objects, especially the tomb model figures, were found to have remnants of newspaper attached to them. As many of the Slip Books entries also make note of it, we can determine that it is likely this newspaper was wrapped around them, as packing material when they were first shipped to the UK after excavation. The newspaper has adhered itself to the surface of the object and became embedded within the grain, making it potentially a tricky (and long) job for a conservator to tackle.

Any object that does not have a number and we cannot straight away identify from the Slip Books, we assign an ‘Unknown’ number. Currently over 100 of these ‘unknown’ numbers have come out of this project.

All these unknown organics will have to be identified through investigation through both our online database and our Slip Books, some unfortunately might take a bit of work to identify!

However, as they are all now safely packed and documented, the conservators can get to work on any that require immediate treatment whilst we investigate!

Rehousing all these artefacts safely is only the first step. There are still many phases of conservation, research, and documentation to be carried out, along with more permanent housing for those that need stabilising. However they can now all be easily accessed and identified, as well as safely packed away.

Projects like these allow us to look at our collection in depth, building up a good picture of the nature and the condition of the objects. It is also one of the most enjoyable parts of our job, as you never know what you might come across next…

We haven’t finished talking about him… Henry VIII’s book is on the bench for some treatment

Henry VIII of England continues to attract attention. This time it is not about one of his many wives but about a book he wrote, the very book which granted him the title of Defender of the Faith, a title still assigned to British Sovereigns today. Henry VIII was a highly educated man and in the years before he turned against the Pope and the Church of Rome, he wrote a treatise called The Defence of the Seven Sacraments against Luther. The book is a theological treatise, dedicated to Pope Leo X, defending the Catholic Church against Martin Luther’s attack on Indulgences, and was printed in London in 1521.

The Fitzwilliam Museum’s copy

The Fitzwilliam Museum’s copy of the book is one of 27 copies that were sent to Rome by Henry to be distributed among the Cardinals of the Church after approbation by the Pope1. As we are currently working towards an exhibition on Money, Image, and Power in Tudor and Stuart England (spring 2019), the book was brought up to the conservation studio, and this is when the exciting detective work started. In fact, the book has a number of interesting physical features which I tried to unravel, helped by my curatorial and conservation colleagues Suzanne Reynolds and Edward Cheese, in order to choose the most appropriate conservation treatment and extract as much information as possible about its history.

The authentic features

I was able to validate several authentic features of our copy, the large signature of Henry VIII at the beginning and end of the text being the most obvious evidence. The sixteenth-century full leather binding is blind-stamped with the Royal arms and the Tudor rose in a double panel. These stamps are attributed to the London binder John Reynes2 and prove the authenticity of the binding. The title page is decorated with an elaborate woodcut border designed by Hans Holbein (1497-1543) which has been recorded by Gordon as part of the original features of the first edition of the treatise3.

Front board before treatment
Title page
Other features

Other features bear witness of the life of this copy and tell us about its owners, its condition and its uses.

Signs on the binding

The front board shows an inscription that has been scratched in the leather. We can read REX ANGLIAE IN LVTH meaning “The King of England against Luther”. The foredge has been inscribed with the title, along with an intriguing sign. This symbol is hard to identify and we came up with two suggestions of what it could be: a cross-bearing orb or a pomegranate. Please get in touch if you have seen this sign used on other books – there are possible links to Queen Catherine of Aragon.

Inscription on the front board
Sign on the foredge
Inside the book

The pages have been numbered by hand, and the running titles have also been added by hand by a reader comfortable with the Latin of the text, using an elegant humanistic script. This reader also annotated the text extensively.

Annotated page
The front pastedown

A nineteenth-century manuscript note on paper is adhered to the front pastedown. It is signed by Samuel Woodburn (1780/5-1853, art dealer and expert on Old Master Drawings) who explains that he bought the book from Signor Romanis at Rome in 1818. Napoleon’s invasion of Rome (1798) had a powerful impact on the Vatican Library as well as its manuscripts. Book dealers coming from England and other countries followed the army and acquired many books and illuminated cuttings. If Samuel Woodburn’s note is true, the book was purchased by Signor Romanis when several of the books belonging to the late Pope were sold by order of the French Army.

Samuel Woodburn’s note on the front pastedown
Remains of a former reback

One final feature. When removing the existing leather spine repair, blind-tooled brown leather remains were found underneath the original leather along the joints, suggesting a former reback. The patterns that are still visible indicate that the leather came from a fairly large late fifteenth – or early sixteenth-century binding with a central panel of triple-lined lozenges framed by foliate ornaments. The stamp used for these ornaments and the style of the layout is very similar to one recorded by Basil Oldham in English Blind-Stamped Bindings4, confirming the date of the re-used leather.

Blind-tooled brown leather remains
Features identified in Basil J. Oldham’s book
Conservation treatment

Let’s get on with some conservation treatment now!

The book was in fairly poor condition. It had been rebacked at least twice and the last reback was creating tensions to the book. Boards were distorted, corners were worn, the front endleaves were detaching, the large strip of glassine paper supposed to support the title page was falling off and the pages were dirty and torn around the edges. There was definitely room for improvement!

Here are the illustrated stages of the conservation treatment:

Removing the current reback, removing the thick layer of hard animal glue from the spine, and reinforcing the sewing with Japanese paper linings in the panels and linen braids over the sewing supports.

The glassine paper was removed mechanically.

Tears were repaired and losses filled with toned Western and Japanese papers.

Corners were reinforced and reconstructed. They were then covered with toned archival leather.

The waste parchment guard hooked around the front endpapers was cleaned so that the thirteenth-century manuscript writing could be revealed.

Margins were cleaned with a smoke-sponge. New back-bead endbands were sewn to reinforce the sewing. The detached leaves were guarded with Japanese paper strips and sewn back on to the textblock over the extended sewing supports using linen thread.

Boards were re-attached using the extended sewing supports. Finally, the book was rebacked with toned archival leather and housed in a bespoke drop-spine box.

Thanks to this collaborative detective work and the conservation treatment that followed, the book is now stable and well documented, available to researchers and ready to go on display!

Special thanks to Assistant Keeper Suzanne Reynolds for all her help in untangling the many mysteries of the book and bringing academic support to the project.

 

 

Uncovering Treasures: Conservation of Works on Paper in the Sir Ivor and Lady Batchelor Collection

In 2015 the Fitzwilliam received an exceptional bequest of around 250 works on paper, paintings and applied arts items, the collection of Sir Ivor and Lady Batchelor. Since then, paper conservators and technicians at the Fitzwilliam have undertaken a project to conserve the drawings, watercolours and prints from the gift – documenting, treating and preparing them for archival storage and future display

The Collection

Professor Sir Ivor Batchelor (1916-2015) was an eminent psychiatrist, academic and advisor to the National Health Service. He developed a love of art as a boy and began a lifetime of amateur collecting, later sharing his passion with his wife Honor.1 They regularly made gifts to the Fitzwilliam throughout the 1990’s, notably enhancing the museum’s collection of drawings by James Ward. The 2015 bequest features predominantly British C19th and C20th drawings, prints and watercolours. Favoured artists include David Cox, Frank Brangwyn, Edwin Henry Landseer, David Wilkie, Muirhead Bone, William Orpen and Walter Sickert, as well as earlier works by James Ward, Heneage Finch, Thomas Rowlandson and others. It was the distinction of great draftsmanship, coupled with affordability, which dictated most of their purchases.

The Conservation Project

The works arrived at the museum in a variety of mounting and framing styles.  The condition of the works varied: many were in reasonably good condition, while others had been visibly affected by factors such as light, humidity and contact with degraded mounting and framing materials. Some works (such as the drawings by Walter Sickert) are in themselves made of poor quality papers which show the effects of age much more quickly than better quality artist’s papers.2

Technicians in the Department of Paintings, Drawings and Prints unframed the works, photographing the frames and documenting inscriptions and labels on the frame backboards. The works were placed in folders and stored in archival boxes ready for accessioning by curators.3 Cataloguing in this case is being carried out alongside the conservation project – the process of unframing, examination and treatment sometimes reveals new information about the work, as can be seen in some of the examples discussed below.

Each work is thoroughly examined, photographed and documented by conservators before any treatments are undertaken (as well as during treatment). Many items in the Batchelor collection have only required the removal of old hinges and mounts, pressing and re-mounting.4 Others however have required more interventive processes, such as backing removal, stain reduction, washing and various types of repair.

Discovering a new drawing
David Cox The Foot of the Cliff, graphite pencil on paper (232 x 155mm) PD.75-2015

Removing this graphite drawing by David Cox (1783-1859) from its acidic backboard revealed another image on the reverse of the sheet – a roughly executed watercolour of a rocky landscape and some figures in pencil – probably dating from around the same time, as this page previously formed part of a sketchbook. Old adhesive was removed, the sheet was pressed and the work was mounted in a ‘double-sided mount’ so both sides of the paper can be viewed and also protected.5

Exposing the verso drawing during the backing removal process
Verso of drawing after treatment
Doodles and marginalia
Frank Brangwyn, A Rhinoceros, a study for the British Empire panels, graphite pencil and red ink on paper (227 x 267mm). PD.60-2015. The drawing in its old window mount, with edges of the drawing covered.

This studio drawing by Frank Brangwyn (1867-1956) was soiled and creased with some prominent stains caused by the old acidic window mount. The window also partly covered the artist’s inscription and completely obscured other interesting drawings around the edges of the paper. It was decided to remount the work showing the entire sheet. Due to the sensitive nature of the red ink, cleaning and stain reduction could only be done ‘locally’. The newly mounted sheet looks much less cramped and gives us greater insight into the way the artist worked.

Showing the edges of the work after treatment
Out-foxing the Foxing
John, Gwen (1876-1939), An adolescent girl, standing in a landscape, charcoal on pale buff paper, (232 x 155 mm). PD.207-2015. After treatment.

The chalk media of this drawing by Gwen John (1876-1939) was fresh and unfixed. However, the machine-made paper was poor-quality and severely discoloured overall. There were several disfiguring large brown stains, or ‘foxing spots’ scattered across the image area6  The spots were treated with water and alcohol followed by careful bleaching and a final rinsing. By using a ‘suction point’, the stain removal process was carefully controlled – the spots no longer detract from the delicately drawn image.

Detail of foxing spots
Removing foxing spots using the suction point
Emerging from the Darkness
William Orpen, Self Portrait graphite pencil on paper. (191 x 153mm). PD.147-2015. After treatment.

The buff-coloured sketchbook paper used by William Orpen (1878-1931) for this sketch was of an inherently poor quality and had become acidic, dark and brittle. The sheet was undulating and distorted from old self-adhesive tape holding it in place. After removal from the mount and testing of the media, the drawing was given several washes in cool then warm de-ionized water to release the acids and impurities and re-invigorate the paper. It was then lined with a carefully chosen light-weight Japanese paper and starch paste to provide the paper with extra strength and support for the future.

Immersion washing in warm water
The Outcome

Whether the conservation work is preventive or interventive, the end result is gratifying – the treated works are now stabilized and ready to be accessed for viewing, display or loan. They are now protected by their new museum-quality acid-free mounts and are stored safely in high-quality Solander boxes.7 After treatment, high-resolution digital photographs are taken before the works are returned to the climate controlled Prints and Drawings store. The Batchelor Collection conservation project for works on paper is ongoing and there will be an exhibition of selected works from the collection at the Fitzwilliam in 2018.

Completed mounted works in their Solander box

 

All images © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge unless otherwise credited.

With thanks to Richard Farleigh, Gwendoline Lemee and Jane Munro for their assistance.

Lantern Project in the Founder’s Entrance (Part 2)

Atlantes and lantern side windows viewed from scaffold platform
Protection during installation of scaffolding

The installation of scaffolding took several weeks. During this time, there was a great awareness of the potential risk to the historic interiors and the collections in surrounding galleries.  There were several methods of protection in place, to minimise risk from physical damage (e.g. knocks, scratches), as well as dust.

Foam and plywood were used to protect the historic mosaic floor. Sculptures which could not be moved were boxed in.

Nearby objects were protected from potential knocking and additional dust fall.
During the scaffold construction, the balustrade, bannisters and floor were boarded. Boards underneath scaffold legs ensured the additional load to the floor was spread. The scaffolding was cleaned before coming into the building, and clean wood was used. There was an increased risk of dust ingress as the front door would have to be left open while materials were moved into the building, so additional dust protection was in place; plastic sheeting proved invaluable to minimise dust movement to surrounding galleries.
Up close
Scaffold platform aptly nicknamed ”The Ballroom”

Now the scaffolding is up, survey work has begun and it provides a rare opportunity to get up close and personal with the lantern interior.  Not only do we need to establish the extent of any deterioration or damage to the building and its decorative interiors, but also if we can understand the causes.

For example, staining in the dust below the side windows indicates that there has been condensation or water ingress. Closer inspection of the internal timber reveals that there is a condensation tray at the base of the lantern side windows. This design originally allows for collected condensation to flow through an outlet pipe to the outside.  It may be that the pipes have been blocked by insects, causing the tray to overflow.  To stop this happening in the future, we need to confirm the cause and either make modifications to the design or ensure changes to the maintenance of the current pipework.

Interior condensation tray with pipe leading outside
Exterior pipes for condensation pipes

We are still at the early stages of the project, and so survey of the plasterwork and internal decoration are ongoing.

We shall keep you updated as the project progresses – watch this space!

Miraculous Madonna Make-overs: Preparations for the ‘Madonnas and Miracles: Private Devotion in Renaissance Italy’ exhibition, March 7th – June 4th, 2017

Every now and again, an upcoming exhibition at the Fitzwilliam Museum provides a welcome opportunity to carry out much needed conservation treatment on important works from the Museum’s collection of paintings. While these works may in fact normally be on display in the permanent galleries, and their general state of preservation is stable and acceptable, they have not necessarily received further attention from the Museum’s conservators since they came into the collection many years ago.

Paintings sitting in the same spot on a gallery wall year after year are not usually scrutinised in the same way as works emerging into the light after a long period in storage. It is often a challenge to find the time and opportunity to look at something very familiar with fresh eyes! However, for each of the five paintings that were given a session of careful TLC by staff and students at The Hamilton Kerr Institute before entering this special exhibition, the visual changes resulting from the treatments were more drastic than initially anticipated. While the size, style and colour scheme in these works are in one sense quite different, they are also all depictions of tender moments between the Virgin Mary and the Christ Child, painted to serve as devotional pieces for private worshippers in the 15th and 16th centuries. The removal of discoloured varnish layers, mismatched overpaint and centuries of dirt, transformed the images and revealed paintings of even greater colouristic beauty and refinement than could be appreciated previously.

Figure 1: Detail showing the back of the Virgin and Child during the removal of centuries worth of dirt. Brilliant colours were revealed within a trompe-l’œil frame, which surrounds a depiction of a fantastical marble slab.

The small Virgin and Child, tentatively attributed to Pietro di Niccolo da Orvieto (c.1430-84) although its iconography and decorative elements could suggest a considerably earlier date, has always been on display showing only its front. When it was recently taken off the wall for a closer assessment however, it became evident that the back is also well worth looking at. Just like the front, the back was originally prepared with a smooth, white gesso ground. A convincing trompe l’oeil frame was then painted to surround an image that was initially very hard to make out through the thick dirt layer that has accumulated through the centuries. As cleaning progressed, a brilliantly colourful, fictive marble slab emerged (figure 1).

The panel was subjected to x-radiography, which revealed how the timber structure was put together prior to the gesso application (figure 2). Four individual moulding profiles were nailed to the face of the panel with three to four nails along each side, which were bent to lie flush with the back prior to the gesso application, thus sealing them within the structure.

Figure 2: The x-radiograph of the Virgin and Child shows the x-ray opaque nails employed to attach the frame profiles to the main panel prior to the application of gesso, paint and gilding.

Although the front of the panel was also somewhat obscured by dirt and varnish, it had clearly been cleaned at least once in the past. Remarkably, most of the decorative scheme is still in rather good condition.

Even though the painting’s style owes much to the stylised and somewhat flattened depictions of the Madonna and Child in the Byzantine icon tradition, the Virgin’s outer garment, the maphorion, was still surprisingly dark and flat compared to the other passages in the painting (figure 3). However, infrared reflectography showed how folds were in fact present in the maphorion (figure 4). Dark overpaint obscured these folds to the naked eye, and careful removal of this non-original layer revealed the original, but worn, blue colour of the garment, painted with two paint layers containing the blue mineral pigment, azurite (figure 5). The top layer has rather large pigment particles, which would have resulted in a rich, velvety surface. Good quality azurite was deliberately employed coarsely ground, because with further grinding, it loses its intensity of colour and turns increasingly grey. The gritty surface resulting from the use of a coarse pigment would have rendered it vulnerable to wear and absorbent to later applications of medium and overpaint, leading to the darkening effect that gives the misleading impression of a black paint passage.

As a result of careful cleaning and a changed approach to display, the beauty of both front and back of this small, devotional object can once again be appreciated in the current exhibition, where it sits in a vitrine allowing both sides to be seen.

Seven painting conservators spent nearly 600 hours on careful conservation and restoration work up to the ‘Madonnas and Miracles: Private Devotion in Renaissance Italy’ exhibition, and if these madonnas have indeed become familiar faces on the walls of the Museum’s permanent collection, they are certainly well worth a second glance, restaged alongside other devotional objects for the duration of the show, which runs from March 7th to June 4th.

To read about the conservation work and painting techniques of the School of Botticelli tondo and of the Joos van Cleve Virgin and Child, follow this link to the Hamilton Kerr Institute Student and Intern Conservation Blog, where you can also read about the challenging process of creating a reconstruction of the Virgin and Child discussed above, using traditional artists’ materials and techniques: https://hamiltonkerrinstitute.wordpress.com/

All images in this post are the copyright of The Hamilton Kerr Institute, University of Cambridge

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