Let There Be Light... But Not Too Much Please

In relation to last week's post about Picasso's Bottle of Suze (which has been taken back off display), I wanted to talk more about protecting art from light damage. It is a topic that has come up a lot recently at both the Kemper Art Museum and the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts. Now at the Kemper protecting the art from UV damage is solely in the hands of the registrars and the senior staff. At the Pulitzer, on the other hand, I have a much more active role in monitoring the light levels in the building. Every thirty minutes I and other Gallery Assistants use a light reader to measure the amount of natural sunlight that reaches into some of the galleries. These activities peeked my interest and I took it upon myself to learn more about light and light readers, which I shall impart to you now.

The light reader we use at the Pulitzer measures in a unit called a foot-candle. Now my first thought was of several hundred tealight candles illuminating an object, but that didn't seem right. Then I thought of something more like this, but that didn't seem right either. In my mind the light cast by a small flame didn't seem that dangerous, aside from the potential threat of fire. So I did some research and learned that the 'candle' of foot-candle actually stands for candela, which is an international basic unit to measure luminous intensity. All this seemed rather clarifying and impressive until I found out that candela is actually Latin for candle, so I'm right back to where I started. It turns out a regular candle does emit a luminous intensity of about one candela. So does this mean that several hundred tealights could damage an artwork with their luminous intensity? Yes it does, especially at a high concentration or over a long period of exposure.

The 'foot' of foot-candle deals with the size of the area where the light intensity is being measured. This is not simply a foot, though, but is actually a sphere with a one foot radius from its central point. The light reader measurement is based on the central point of the sphere and assumes a uniform light source of one candela at that point. The amount of illumination that would be cast onto the inside surface of the sphere from the center is the the light reading.

At the Pulitzer we use this type of light reader. In order to operate it we hit the 'Vis' button, which measures the visible light. It also measures UV light and other environmental conditions, such as heat and humidity. It is a very handy and very expensive tool.

If it is determined that the luminous intensity in a gallery is too high there are a number of ways to protect the artworks or objects. If the source of most of the light is sunlight there are UV films and window covers that can stop 98% of ultraviolet radiation from ever entering the building. If the light source is electric there are similar products and sleeves for light bulbs. If it is a matter of visible light there are a number of simple ways to lower it, such as curtains, screens, or sometimes just covering the individual object. Since light damage is in fact inevitable, the best thing that can be done for objects is to keep them stored in dark locations and to only put them on display for short periods of time, like the Kemper did with Picasso's collage. You can read more about light damage and UV prevention here.

In my research I was also surprised to learn that UV light doesn't always have a negative effect on how people view art. There are a number of things that can be learned about a painting by intentionally shining ultraviolet light on it. Because it is a spectrum invisible to the human eye it can make things visible that we normally wouldn't see. Here is a great website where you can observe the before and after effects yourself.

What do you do at your museum in order to prevent the damaging effects of light? Have you ever used UV light to learn more about a painting or an object?

Bottle of Suze Anyone?

For a limited time a very precious and rarely displayed artwork is hanging in the permanent collection gallery of the Kemper Art Museum at WASHU (read more about it here). Pablo Picasso's Bottle of Suze is one of the earliest and most famous of the celebrated cubist's collages (learn more about another Picasso collage and his materials here). It combines the long-standing artists' tradition of still life with the early 20th century innovation of collage as well as the political views and satirical commentary of its creator. I have witnessed multiple classes of art students come view and discuss this artwork and every time there is new interpretation and insight. I have also discussed the piece with several visitors and each time I am amazed at the unique interpretations different individuals come up with. It is indeed a most compelling artwork.

It is also an exceptionally fragile artwork. Bottle of Suze displays the typical discoloration and staining of aging paper, and for this reason the museum is very anxious to preserve it and displays it as little as possible.

The preservation problems of this piece are three-fold. The collage's materials, which include newspaper, wallpaper, and construction paper, are incredibly self-damaging. Newspaper deteriorates rapidly due to the moisture content and highly acidic nature of the paper it's printed on. Perhaps even more fragile is the construction paper, or pulp paper, which eventually dries out and becomes so brittle the slightest touch might shatter it. The adhesives that Picasso used to bind all these different papers together may also contribute to their deterioration. It is the 'colle' of the collage, the glue that holds it all together can also be a big factor in its falling apart. Since glues and resins can also be highly acidic this likewise could have contributed to the discoloration of the piece. In addition to both these issues, all the materials of the collage are highly sensitive to light, which is why it is kept in storage the vast majority of the time.

Now the Kemper deals with the light-exposure issue as well as it can. I have personally observed the very careful positioning of the gallery lights so none shine directly on the artwork. All of the Gallery Attendants are given strict instructions to leave the lights in the gallery off till the last possible moment, to reduce the amount of exposure. I have also seen how the piece is covered when the museum is closed. Everything that can be done is done to reduce UV damage.

But what about the self-deterioration of the materials? The Library of Congress has many recommendations for preserving newspaper, but these methods really only apply to regular, printed papers. Such suggestions can successfully serve the needs of a library or an archive, but none could plausibly be applied to this artwork. And how does one preserve wallpaper or construction paper? What can be done to prevent the acids from eventually destroying the whole work? Can anything be done? An even more intriguing question: did Picasso intend that anything could be done? There are those who theorize that the artist meant for the piece to deteriorate. Some see it as his challenging us to solve all the collage's mysteries before it is too late while others interpret it as the Picasso's own anti-war and possibly anarchist views about his contemporary world.

Indeed, a most compelling piece. I love it all the more because it makes me think about the art in a variety of contexts: historical, war, leisure, still life, collage, cubism, and conservation. An artwork that can bring up such a variety of issues and insights is certainly incredible. That Picasso sure was on to something.

Does your museum have similar works or conservation issues? How do you handle objects or artworks that deteriorate rapidly? Can you think of any way to prevent Bottle of Suze from deteriorating?

Symposium at the Pulitzer

Last week I was fortunate enough to work a Conservators Symposium at the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts. The current exhibition at the Pulitzer is a compilation of Buddhist art called Reflections of the Buddha and is the result of two years of careful planning and research. It came as no surprise to me that a show which has resulted in some of our highest visitor numbers had also peaked the interest of several experts in the fields of conservation and Buddhist art and history. Like snails to the brow of the meditating Buddha they came, all eager to attain enlightenment and share knowledge. For two days they sat (not under a tree but in folding chairs) and gave presentations on many of the artworks. Each presentation was followed by an exchange questions, answers, and new theories. All attendees commented on having a wonderful time and I believe all left with the enlightenment they were hoping to attain.

The invited participants weren't the only ones to leave more enlightened. I specifically requested to attended the symposium because I knew, based on past symposiums, that a wealth of knowledge could be derived from this event. So yes, I am also one of the snails eager to ascend onto the forehead of the Buddha. I anticipated that this would be a great opportunity to learn more about Buddhist art, which I could then turn around and share with our visitors. Events like these do tend to be very exclusive and unfortunately are not open to the public. This is for a good reason, though. Scholars tend to react better to each others' questions and they challenge one another into new ways of thinking in order to solve problems and answer questions. I view my role in this event as twofold; first I secure the space and safety of the art and our guests, and second I represent the needs and the curiosity of our visitors. In other words, I learn all I can in order to create learning opportunities for others.

And I did learn a lot. I now better understand the construction of the Amitabha Buddha in our Entrance Gallery, how the Korean figures in the Lower Gallery were gilt, what a textile conservator can and cannot do to help preserve the Mandalas in the Cube Gallery, what is typical of a Chinese sculpture from a cave sanctuary, what Indian representations of the Shakyamuni Buddha look like, and more. Symposiums like this are great because they enable experts to gather and learn from each other as well as generate new ideas and scholarship for their fields. They are also great for me because I learn and get paid for it.

I believe that symposiums are an important activity that all museums should try to engage in, but not just for the scholars. I think symposiums are also a great opportunity for staff, such as myself, to learn more and pass it on to the visitor. Since the primary concern of all museums, and all scholars, should be the gathering and sharing of information with the public, then perhaps more symposiums should be open. If not to the public then to the staff which are capable of communicating new ideas to the public.

What do you think? Does your museum have programs like a symposium? If so, what is done to share information from these events with your visitors?

At the London National Gallery

In my museum readings this week I came across an article entitled, "National Gallery assistants escalate their dispute over staffing cuts," on The Guardian newspaper's website. Interestingly enough, published the same day as my blog post about being a Gallery Assistant. This article covers a story about a large group of gallery assistants on strike at the National Gallery in London due to the affects recent cut-backs have had on their hours and workload. The Gallery is trying to establish a new security system where instead of one assistant per gallery there is now one assistant assigned to monitor two galleries.

In this article, the assistants stress the importance of having a suitable number of staff in order to properly monitor each gallery so they can provide sufficient security and customer assistance. They argue that decreasing the number of security personnel increases the likelihood of vandalism and reduces the quality of customer service.

As a gallery attendant at two different institutions, I can wholeheartedly relate and sympathize with their predicament. I also noted that in the article many of the assistants are young professionals with arts degrees, such as myself, who enjoy engaging an audience and are just trying to get more experience in the field. So I can understand the disappointment of getting less hours and less experience with a more cumbersome workload. 

I know I did not focus on security in my earlier post as much as I did audience engagement and shoes, but it is a very important subject. It is my top priority at work; so if I am in a discussion with one visitor and I see another carrying out a potentially harmful activity (either to the art or to a patron), I politely as possible dismiss myself from the conversation and see to the security risk. Engagement and customer service make it fun, but security is the business. I have worked regular days and special events where we were understaffed and I can assure you, it is very taxing. Such days provide fewer opportunities to talk with visitors; when you're stressed out and you look stressed out guests don't want to approach you, and to be honest, you don't feel like approaching guests.

So I have to say, the National Gallery's argument that their new and shorter-staffed plan will provide better security is either a mere pretext on their part in the hope that no one will notice or perhaps they really do not understand the demands of working on the floor. I feel they should just admit that they're trying to save funds by cutting staff, which is the most likely explanation. And as I said, I sympathize with the assistants' plight, I really do, but to be fair a lot of museum staff are getting cut in all departments. With governments reducing funds to all museums, administrators have to find ways to keep the budgets afloat and staff cuts are a big part of that. If the number of working assistants per day absolutely has to be cut, one possible solution is to create a volunteer docent program for students (from secondary to the university level) so they can help assistants monitor the galleries while also gaining experience themselves. At least this will reduce the stress on the assistants.   

What are your thoughts on this situation? Do you have any suggestions or have you faced similar issues at your own museum?