Dusting provided an opportunity to become acquainted with the wide range of surfaces that can be found on wooden sculpture from Africa. Given all the information one can get from these surfaces, this part of the project has been a visual and art historical education.

Under the dust, the surface observed can be one that the artist created.  Yoruba sculptor Lamidi O. Fakeye, for example, highlighted the wood itself by leaving the surface of his mounted horseman unpainted and unvarnished.

Detail of Mounted Horseman by Lamidi O. Fakeye, which features a bare wooden surface.

This is just one of a wide variety of possible surface finishes the artist could have chosen.  In contrast, this 20th century helmet mask for Bonu Amuen masker features a thick, slightly textured paint layer.

Detail of the painted surface of a 20th century helmet for Bonu Amuen masker.

The forehead of the Deangle mask is covered with layers of ritually applied materials.

For many works, however, the observed surface is the result of the combination of the artist’s activity and the use of the object after it was created.  Substances are often applied to painted wooden sculpture in Africa, however the material used and the reason for its application varies with the culture of origin of the piece.  Because of this variety, materials on the surface of African sculpture can provide information that is valuable for understanding the ways in which people have interacted with it.

The forehead of this face mask for Deangle masker, for example, shows a rough texture that is distinct from the smooth surfaces elsewhere on the mask.  This texture is the result of the application of many different sacrificial materials as an important part of its use in circumcision rituals.

This crocodile helmet mask made by the Nuna people of Burkina Faso is covered on the top of the head with chicken feathers and other remnants of sacrificial offerings.

Feathers and other ritual substances found on the Nuna crocodile helmet mask)

A third, key factor that contributes to the observed surface is the condition of the original and applied materials after aging. An example of a common condition than can develop with time is fatty acid bloom which results from the polymorphic transformation of fats or waxes. This condition is seen on this Tusian helmet mask.

Grey bloom on the Tusian helmet mask.

Analysis of the bloom can determine its chemical composition in order to help identify the applied material.  The kind of materials applied to the surface can be diagnostic for the country or culture of origin for unknown works.

This education has already informed my activity in the next part of the redesign project–assessing the condition of artworks as part of the collection survey.

Doris Day and Rock Hudson – perhaps the most glamorous of mid-century pillow talkers.

Well not exactly pillow talk, you know, that is, not talk over a pillow or in the midst of pillows or under the pillows.  Rather, let’s talk about pillows, which pillows, how many pillows, what color of pillows…  It’s about pillows in the Miller House conversation pit, and what to do about changing them for the season as winter relents.

The interiors of the Miller House have a lot of eye-catching elements, to be sure, but the biggest crowd pleaser has got to be the conversation pit, a 15-foot-square, 2 ½ -foot-deep exercise in below-floor-level decorative decadence.  It’s been touted as the very first conversation pit, but that’s a pretty difficult statement to verify.  There are certainly plenty of antecedents, as well as related interior features in houses of the ‘40s and ‘50s.  Houses of the Victorian and Arts and Crafts eras had inglenooks and similar areas of built-in seating.  And it’s not hard to find mid-century houses that featured floor level changes that also incorporated seating.  Eero Saarinen and Charles Eames created such designs for the Case Study Houses in California in the 1940s.  Whether the Miller House conversation pit is indeed the first is something of an exercise in architectural hair-splitting, but if anyone knows of an earlier pit of the same completely enclosed configuration, we’d love to hear about it.

Interior, Case Study House #9.

The “pit” in the Case Study House above shapes the spatial flow of the interior – down to the embrace of the fireplace and outward at the same level to the landscape beyond.   With interior designer Alexander Girard in the mix at the Miller House, the pit concept does something different.  Functionally, it achieves the goal of providing significant seating without the clusters of furniture that Saarinen so detested.  Being below the floor level, it provided nothing to impede the view to the west through the allée of honey locust trees.  By enclosing the pit on all four sides, with entry by means of a short flight of seemingly-floating padouk wood steps, Girard made the pit into a huge, discrete decorative object that balances the 50-foot storage wall and the marble-topped dining table.  It shouts for the viewer’s attention, rewards it with a lush display of textiles, and offers the novelty of looking down to something other than the floor.

Your view from the Miller House conversation pit.

After this (purposeful) digression, we will return to the subject at hand: pillows.  From what we know of Mrs. Miller’s wishes, the house needed such an object.  She was interested in a means for decorative variety and change in an interior dominated by marble, travertine, plaster, and steel.  The conversation pit served this function.  Though constructed of Aurisina marble, the pit demanded seat and back cushions for comfort, all with slip covers.  And loose pillows – lots of them.  All these, as well as the rug on the pit floor, were changed seasonally to refresh the room’s appearance.

We are just embarking on changing the pillows for the first time.  Since the IMA acquired the house in 2009, the conversation pit has been wearing its winter garb of richly-colored pillows, many of them covered in woolen fabrics.  The summer scheme, carefully worked out in the original plan by Girard, employed fabrics lighter in both color and texture, many of them the striped Mexican cottons (Mexicottons) that he designed.

Drawing from cross-cultural inspirations, Girard designed fabrics with innovative color combinations.  Many of the Mexicotton pillowcases at the Miller House share a simple plain-weave structure and a cotton composition, but the placement of color separates each fabric as a unique and innovative design element.  Stripes were created by alternating colors of custom-dyed yarn as opposed to printing designs on the fabrics.  Below is only a small sampling of Girard’s many Mexicottons, which will soon be on display.  Below are details of two of the pillowcases created out of Mexicotton Stripe fabric.  The contrasting piping around the edge of each pillowcase is created out of Mexicotton Plain fabric:

For centuries, home furnishing fabrics have been changed with the seasons, which not only refreshed the room, but also contributed to the preservation of the color and appearance of some of the most significant, expensive, and vulnerable items that a family might own.  While conservation might not have been foremost in the thoughts of homeowners through the years, it is something we take very seriously at the IMA.  The seasonal rotation of the pillows at the Miller House allows us to realize two goals concurrently: it is in keeping with what Mrs. Miller originally intended and it will allow textile conservators an opportunity to assess the condition and needs of each unique pillow.

Before redressing the conversation pit in its vernal wardrobe, the curator and conservators teamed up and went to the Miller House to further discuss and implement the seasonal rotation.  The spring/ summer pillows were carefully removed from storage and placed on plastic close to the current display.  This facilitated curatorial decisions, such as which pillows, how many, and general placement.  While not yet in the conversation pit, the shifting palette of pillows from mulled wine to citrus spritzers can be observed easily.  And that red carpet on the floor of the conversation pit will be rotated out as well – but you’ll have to visit the Miller House to see the dramatic difference…

The conversation pit as it is currently installed, juxtaposed with the upcoming seasonal color scheme.

So, how does a seasonal rotation of pillows help preserve them for future generations?  Or more importantly – what happens to a pillow when it is not on display?  Once a textile is removed from display the conservators assess the current condition and address any need that the textile may have.  All of the textiles receive a gentle vacuuming as to not return them to storage with any dirt or dust that might have accumulated during display.  Each is then carefully packed and placed in a storage environment with stable temperature and relative humidity and away from light.  Protection from light is crucial in the preservation of textiles.

The Miller House is striking with its glass walls and skylight system; however, when textiles are struck by light some fabrics will fade (depending on the dyes used, type of light, and cumulative light exposure).  This orange pillow is slated for its public debut in the conversation pit.  When the side opening is gently pulled back one can observe that it has already faded from an electric orange to a humbler shade.  By rotating the pillows seasonally and placing them in dark storage for the time they are off view, we hope to extend the lush display of textiles in the conversation pit for years to come.

On the top is a detail of the inside of a pillowcase; below is the exterior of the same pillow case after years of light exposure:

Schedule a visit and be sure to experience the Miller House pillows for each season!

Laura Kubick, Assistant Conservator of Objects and Variable Art and Jeff Fieberg, Associate Professor of Chemistry at Centre College, analyzing the cabinet in the gallery using XRF.

My work has focused on the surfaces of the cabinet. To discover what pigments might be present, I first used XRF with the help of Jeff Fieberg.  Some pigments suggested by this work are red lead, chrome yellow and ultramarine blue.  I am also trying to find out what type of paint is present – is it oil, tempera, distemper, etc.?  And is there a coating layer over the paint?

Microscopic examination revealed wax on the surface. I also took microscopic samples that will be analyzed using Fourier Transform Infrared Spectroscopy (FTIR) and Raman Spectroscopy with the help of Greg Smith, the IMA’s Conservation Scientist. These techniques will tell us which type of binder the paint has and more definitively identify the pigments present.

Microscopic examination of Bernard’s Corner Cabinet.

Photomicrograph showing a location where a yellow pigment sample was taken.

Once we have those answers,  I will work with Ellen Lee, The Wood-Pulliam Senior Curator, to answer further questions like would the cabinet benefit from cleaning and can cleaning be undertaken safely?  We may also answer a question about whether the frieze panel with faces is original to the cabinet or whether it may have been added later.  The work that Lee, Richard McCoy, and Jérôme Séré completed in the fall of 2010 examining the structure of the cabinet (check out the blog about this work) suggested that this may have been the case.  I look forward to the results of the analysis and sharing more about the cabinet.

Detail of Bernard’s Corner Cabinet with Breton Scenes showing the frieze with faces.

My first weeks at the museum have been filled with introductions.  In addition to meeting new coworkers, there were plenty of new places to get to know as part of the job.  Work-related travel has included a day trip to the Miller House in Columbus, Indiana to examine furniture in storage, condition checking the Mary Miss installation FLOW: Can You See The River? in 100 Acres, and a behind-the-scenes tour of the historic Oldfields-Lilly House and Gardens.

My introduction to the museum’s collection of African Art, however, is proving to be the most complicated. One of my main responsibilities at the IMA is to help prepare that collection for reinstallation early next year. This will involve months of surveying, testing and treating objects in that collection, as well as consulting on matters of storage and display. To begin to tackle this project, I wanted to assemble a list of the objects in the IMA’s collection of African Art, in order to ensure that my survey is thorough.

That practical, seemingly simple, request led me straight into questions of how African Art is defined at the IMA. If the answer seems apparent–that African Art is defined as art that comes from Africa–then consider the following example. The IMA owns two works by the living artist El Anatsui, who was born in Ghana and currently works in Nigeria. One work, Sacred Comb, is on display in the Eiteljorg suite of African Art. However, the other piece, Duvor (Communal Cloth) is displayed in the museum’s Contemporary Art galleries.

Which artwork by El Anatsui is classified as African Art at the IMA?

Because these two curatorial departments use different criteria to define their collections (geography vs. time period), both can claim either work.  Furthermore, the IMA’s department of Textiles and Fashion Arts uses still different parameters for defining their collection–those of medium and use.  As a work that references traditional West African strip-woven textiles, Duvor (Communal Cloth) is actually catalogued as part of the Textiles and Fashion Arts collection.

Does it matter for the objects that the IMA holds Egungun masker’s garments in both Textiles and Fashion Arts and in African Art?  Or that wooden masks, which are also used as part of the Egungun masquerade, are only held in the African Art collection and not associated with Textiles and Fashion Arts?

The context of the collection certainly shapes how the objects are discussed in wall texts and displayed in the galleries, with different emphasis on the aesthetic or functional qualities of the works.

During my internship, only works held in the collection of African Art will be surveyed.  Therefore, these African pieces will receive different treatment than those in other collections. For example, as a first step in the reinstallation, pre-program intern Nicole Peters, and I have been conducting x-ray fluorescence testing (XRF) on objects in the African galleries.

IMA intern Nicole Peters and IMA fellow Kristen Adsit conduct XRF testing of a face mask from the We culture in the Eiteljorg suite of African Art.

This analytical method reveals the elemental composition of the surface tested. We have been using it to look for traces of inorganic pesticides, which may have been applied historically to objects in the African collection, including remnants of toxic heavy metal compounds. Though African works held in the Textiles and Fashion Arts collections may also have been treated with these compounds, they are not included in this survey and will not be tested at this time.

Classifications can also help identify historical treatment of an object, since works in the same collection are likely to share a certain amount of history.  In contrast to the African and Textiles collections, it is unlikely that contemporary works by African artists would have been treated with heavy metal pesticides, as they have been made after such compounds have been widely replaced with organic ones.

The IMA is among many major art museums grappling with these issues.  Far from theoretical, how collections are defined at an institution raises practical questions that must be addressed thoughtfully as part of our daily work.

At the beginning of the summer I set out to photo document each one:  Spaces with Iron, Mega Gem, Portrait of History, and East Gate/West Gate.  From this day of documentation I created detailed condition reports. From there, IMA Conservator Richard McCoy, and fellow conservation intern, Nicole Peters (of recent IMA Blog fame) and I returned to campus to wash all four and then wax the two bronze artworks.  By that time summer was in full swing and the 90 degree day with clear skies made for some pretty interesting (and sweaty) work.

Never having waxed a bronze in my life, I read up on the subject to prepare.  Patrick V. Kipper’s The Care of Bronze Sculpture breaks down each step in process of waxing a bronze artwork, as does the IMA blog from last year, Caring for Bronze in the Community.  It seemed easy enough.  Some light blow torching, applying wax, smoothing the wax out evenly, applying the blow torch again, et voilà!  You can imagine it was not so simple.  At ten in the morning the sun was already scorching hot.  Cleaning Will Horwitt’s Spaces with Iron proved difficult when the water was evaporating faster than we could rinse the suds away.

Rinsing off "Spaces with Iron" before waxing can begin.

After scrubbing off grime and bird guano from the artwork, we added heat to the already hot day with the help of a large propane torch.  Monitored by Richard, Nicole and I created an efficient team, with one of us heating the metal and the other waxing the surface.  At first I was a little unsteady with the large blow torch so I worked as the waxer, however my fellow intern Nicole did not share my jitters and helped out immensely.

Nicole Peters uses a blow torch to heat the bronze surface as Abbott Nixon applies a protective layer of wax.

Once finished with Spaces with Iron there was a great sense of satisfaction … for about one minute, then we remembered we were about to do this all over again with the Zhou Brother’s Portrait of History. Unlike the smooth surface of Spaces with Iron, Portrait of History has a mottled texture which proved difficult not only to clean but to wax as well.

Abbott Nixon cleaning the difficult surface of "Portrait of History" By the Zhou Brothers.

After finishing Portrait of History, the next day we moved on to washing John Torreano’s Mega Gem.  Seemingly straightforward, Mega Gem required a simple washing with Orvus soap.  After it was cleaned, Richard decided that the streaking on the piece made it look uneven and rather grimy.

The most straightforward way to remove this staining was to clean the entire surface with mild scrubbing pads.  A quick detour to a hardware store procured the scrubbing pads and off to work we went removing the dark streaks of aluminum oxide.  Aluminum oxide develops naturally on all uncoated aluminum surfaces.  Though it does reduce the metallic sheen of aluminum, it also prevents other more unsightly corrosion from occurring.

Our final stop was at Sasson Soffer’s East Gate/West Gate. The 30-foot-tall stainless steel sculpture was not in great need of cleaning: only the lower portion had areas of visible rust staining (iron oxide).  Never working with outdoor sculpture, I was intrigued by the development of this corrosion product.  Stainless steel is supposed to be stainless, right?

It turns out that similar to the aluminum oxide layer that develops to protect aluminum, stainless steel has a layer of chromium oxide which provides the “stainless” element that other iron alloys do not possess.  If the protective chromium oxide layer is damaged, rust (iron oxide) will begin to form.  The chromium oxide layer will regenerate in the presence of oxygen, however if some other element gets there first – like chloride ions – the protective layer will fail to regenerate, giving way to the development of iron oxide.

The Getty Center put together a wonderful book on outdoor sculpture conservation, Conserving Outdoor Sculpture: The Stark Collection at the Getty Center.  The book describes a test study about the removal of rust from two of their metal artworks, George Rickey’s Three Square Gyratory and Robert Adams’ Two. This spurred my interest in creating my own test to remove the rust on East Gate/West Gate.  We used the commercially available CLR, Super Iron Out, and Bar Keepers friend (phosphoric and oxalic acid-based products) and a solution of 10% phosphoric acid solution that was made in the conservation lab.

Products ready for testing their rust removal capacities. From the left: Bar Keepers Friend. CLR, 10% Phosphoric Acid and Super Iron Out.

The idea was to test the harsher acids and their safer counter parts.  We tested two areas: one of light rust build up and one of heavy rust build up. All four products were applied with cotton and left to set for 20 minutes.

Abbott Nixon applying Bark Keepers Friend with handmade cotton swab.

The result revealed that, phosphoric acid and Bar Keepers Friend were the most successful at reducing the rust.  In the end, we chose Bar Keepers Friend as the most appropriate product because it was much more mild than using the phosphoric acid, (it is an eye and skin irritant), also it can be potentially hazardous if inhaled.  We ended our day there – perhaps in the future these test results will help inform a more complete treatment of East Gate/West Gate.

Below the blue tape are the results from the tested rust removal products.

For now, I can walk away from this project with the knowledge that I set out to gain at the beginning of the summer.  Having now washed several outdoor sculptures, waxed bronzes, and developed a testing methodology for unknown products, I have a wealth of knowledge to take with me into my next conservation venture and beyond.

Walk to work at the American Legion National Headquarters.

Another amazing glimpse into the history of this project was through the incredible collection of letters and archival material that has been preserved since the early 1900’s.  I was privy to primary source materials written directly by Reni-Mel and various officials of the legion, including rare footage of the artist painting America in his studio in France.

Now onto the project:  The painting, America, was created in 1918 by the French Ministry of War Painter, Léon Reni-Mel, and given to the American Legion for the United States’ assistance to France during the Great World War.  The canvas is 12’ x 7’ and depicts two allegorical soldiers, one stalwart American raising his hand to halt the enemy while assisting the other, a wounded Frenchman about to collapse.  The soldiers stand on a bank of highly textured mud with smoke and flames rising around them in the distance, blending slowly into the swirling colors of the sky.  At the bottom of the canvas, Reni-Mel gave the work its own caption, AMERICA, flanked by the signatures of two honorary National Commanders, General John Pershing of the United States Army and Marshal Ferdinand Foch, the French Minister of War.  Reni-Mel’s signature and the date of completion were also added at the lower left and right.  The painting has very high impasto, giving the work incredible texture and depth, but making the cleaning process even more challenging!

Detail of textural, high impasto paint surface.

Upon first sight, it was obvious that the painting was covered with a thick coating of darkened yellow varnish.  A quick glance at the meeting hall and the sea of desks topped with permanently affixed ashtrays gave the clear indication that this painting was dulled by decades of nicotine, grime, and aged varnish.  Upon closer investigation, it was also apparent that there had been a previous campaign of cleaning.  Throughout the sky and areas of the French soldier’s face and torso, the paint had been scrubbed so hard that in some areas the weave of the canvas was clearly visible. The note card attached to the stretcher bars confirmed the previous restoration treatment (done in the ’90s) and even detailed the type of varnish used at that time to coat it.  Even with all this observed knowledge, a thorough bout of solvent testing was done in multiple areas to find the most effective and safest cleaning solutions for this painting.

Detail of abraded paint from previous cleaning treatment.

And so our slow siege began, moving across the canvas inch by inch, adjusting solvents and changing application techniques to suit each specific area.  As we worked our way across the complex surface, I began to understand how one must constantly be reading what you see, know how to react to the given information, and be able to move forward even when that means leaving it alone.  The difference between the cleaned painting and the grimy, varnish-covered painting was so dramatic that staff members from down the hall were continually seeing aspects of the composition for the first time as had originally been intended!

During treatment, about halfway through cleaning and varnish reduction.

In the archives I came across a letter from Reni-Mel, himself, warning the recipients to allow the thick paint to dry for at least a year before varnishing (with the amount of paint he used – it should have been much longer).  This is done so there will be two separate layers (varnish on top of paint) instead of two layers without any distinct boundary between them (which is what happens when the paint isn’t fully dry).  This co-mingled area is referred to as the “interactive zone,” and can be quite the challenge for conservators since we would like to remove the varnish, but obviously not the paint.  I suspect this is what caused the previous cleaning to come to a halt when only partially complete, leaving the lower two thirds of the surface untouched before adding yet another coating of varnish overall.

I am happy to report that after about 200 hours of work, the conservation project is at mid-stage with the painting having been successfully cleaned and the discolored varnish substantially reduced.  Because of the blending between the paint and the initial varnish, it was best to “unpack” the varnish little by little until only a thin coating remained and the paint film was left with a protective buffering layer.  This delicate balance was maintained with close and constant observation, an understanding of the surface of the painting, and daily examination in ultraviolet light.

Next up, we’ll be moving on to the structural work, inpainting and varnishing, as well as the framing and re-installation of America…check back at the Indianapolis Museum of Art blog for the next chapter!  Also, look for an article at the American Legion webpage for more information regarding this great project.

After cleaning, me, Christina, and Linda (left to right).

Nicole Peters, IMA Scholar Objects & Variable Art Summer Intern, on a Boat.

Prior to starting my summer internship, when I was putting the finishing touches on my Masters in Art History at West Virginia University, I had been daydreaming about working on the 18th-century European porcelain and ancient Chinese bronzes located in the IMA’s collection.  During my first phone conversation with Richard McCoy back in April, I soon found out that my internship would not include what I had been working on at WVU, but instead I would be charged with researching, documenting, and conserving the eight site-specific contemporary installations within 100 Acres: The Virginia B. Fairbanks Art & Nature Park. My initial reaction was, “Well, this sounds pretty interesting…and besides, there’s probably some bronzes and marble sculptures in there somewhere, right?”

Fast-forward to today, six weeks along in my internship, and I am learning more about various formats of fiberglass, powder-coating, galvanized steel, and industrial paint systems than I ever thought I would.  But more importantly, my internship here has been encouraging me to fully consider and understand contemporary art materials, contemporary installation processes, and the importance of site maintenance and regular inspection.  As I engulf myself in this project, I am becoming familiar with various conservation terminology and procedures, and the instruments involved in the technical study of artworks.

One of my current projects at 100 Acres involves recording and monitoring the level of color and gloss on Jeppe Hein’s Bench Around the Lake, Los Carpinteros’ Free Basket steel arches, and Atelier Van Lieshout’s fiberglass installation, Funky Bones.

Nicole Peters Making Colorimetric Measurements on “Funky Bones.”

With the help of two useful instruments, the Micro-TRI-gloss Glossmeter and the Spectrophotometer CM- 700d/600d, and one very knowledgeable conservation scientist at the IMA, Greg D. Smith, we have been able to begin detailed research projects on important IMA artworks. Using these instruments requires both manual and technical competency, but more importantly, the information recorded must be understood and interpreted in a way that it is not only accessible to conservators, but also curators, registrars, and even the artists themselves. Thus far, color and gloss measurements have been recorded for the steel and plastic components of Free Basket and the black and white fiberglass sections of Funky Bones. Measurements for the fifteen individual bench installations for Bench Around the Lake are currently in progress.

The colorimeter instrument is able to digitally plot a precise numerical coordinate that corresponds with an exact color located on the CIE L*a*b* color charting system.  When colors are digitized, it becomes possible to express minute differences in what is essentially the same color.  These are called color differentials (i.e. Δ L*, Δ a*, and Δ b*). The CIE L*a*b* system evaluates hue (color), value (lightness or darkness), and chroma (saturation).

Plot of Red and Blue Paint Used on “Free Basket.”

For example, the color for the red and blue arches of Free Basket was measured and plotted in the above image.  This measurement is to be taken annually and the sample location should be taken in the same area each time.

  The other piece of equipment I mentioned is the Micro-TRI-gloss Glossmeter.  It takes three surface readings at 20°, 60°, and 85° in order to compensate for the different levels of gloss.  A 20° geometry is suitable for a High Gloss surface, a 60° for Semi Gloss, and 85° for Low Gloss, as shown in the image below.  The instrument evaluates the specular (or mirror-like) reflection of a surface and is often associated with the amount or level of gloss.

Angles Used by the Gloss Meter.

By taking an initial measurement, every value recorded afterward can be compared to the initial numerical value to assess how much of the gloss layer has been lost.  This loss can be crucial to the artwork’s appearance or presentation, in addition to the preservation of the interior components being protected by the gloss barrier.

The concept of monitoring the amount of light exposure and its effects on delicate or sensitive artworks was not foreign to me, but how this information is relevant to a contemporary outdoor installation was certainly a viewpoint I had not previously considered.  Although modern paint systems and structural materials can be formulated to better withstand environmental threats such as light exposure, pollution and moisture, the fact remains that outdoor sculptures and installations are constantly being exposed to these harsh conditions that will ultimately lead to their degradation.

Nicole Peters Making Gloss Measurements on “Free Basket.”

What I’ve found is that recording gloss and color levels is an important part of a regular maintenance plan for outdoor artworks whose material composition or coating systems can be affected by environmental agents.  I’m excited to be here at the IMA to help develop this program.

The recorded information can be used in order to gain a better understanding of how different surfaces and materials react to constant exposure from environmental agents. Gradual changes in an artwork’s surface may not be noticeable over an extended period of time, but they can be scientifically described using these two instruments. Also, it is possible that the data can be extrapolated and perhaps applied to other artworks made from similar materials.  In the end, this information may inform artists when they are choosing their materials to make their work.

Oldfields, like any other historic house, poses an interesting dilemma in pest control because the property was not originally created to protect and preserve an important museum collection from the elements.  Because of this, the museum must remain diligent in pest management at Oldfields.  Luckily for the IMA (and any museum!), there is an entire field called Integrated Pest Management, or IPM, that provides resources and systematic methods for controlling pests.  As part of the museum’s overall IPM program, Pat Kelley of Insects Limited Inc. makes monthly visits to each of the museum’s buildings, including Oldfields.  Check out this blast-from-the-past blog post to learn about the types of resources Insects Limited provides for museums locally and globally.  I’ve now had the opportunity to accompany Pat on multiple visits to Oldfields.

On these trips we clean up areas where insects tend to gather and check traps for any activity. After years of these visits, obvious patterns in pest activity have begun to emerge.

During the more active months of January and February a pile of ladybird beetles is not an uncommon sight, particularly in sunny window wells.

The quantities of pests found in Oldfields are not surprising and have remained under control, thanks to these preventative measures.  Ladybird beetles (known colloquially as lady bugs, but don’t call them that if you want to stay friends with an entomologist or a conservator) are by far the most prevalent pest at Oldfields. They tend to gather in and around windows, primarily in the southernmost rooms of the house.  The typical pattern of insect activity begins in late October or early November when insects enter through cracks and gaps around doors, windows, and the roof line. The insects fill wall voids and attic spaces where they hibernate over the winter.  They then emerge in the first warm days of January and February in an attempt to return outdoors. When they find themselves inside the home instead of outside they accumulate near the windows and die. These insects are predominately ladybird beetles, but also include some boxelder beetles, pine seed bugs, and cluster flies.  Ladybird beetles themselves do not pose a major threat to the house or objects.

The danger is that the ladybird beetles become a food source for dermestid beetle larvae, which feed on textiles and other vulnerable natural materials such as leather, silk, or fur.  It’s important that the ladybird beetles are swept up and removed from the house so that dermestid larvae do not become a problem. So far the objects have remained safe from dermestids, but this requires consistent monitoring.

This chart provides a visual representation of pest activity at Oldfields from September through April, the typical months of the cycle described above. The chart, which combines information from the last three years of IPM monitoring, illustrates the types of pests present in each month and the location where they were found on each floor.  The colors represent a generalized quantity of pests found, with gray illustrating one pest, yellow around a dozen, orange around one hundred, and red representing hundreds of insects found.  This shows that ladybird beetles are in fact the most prominent pest at Oldfields and illustrates their rising quantities as the winter progresses. Another important point is the location of the pests, which tend to remain in the same rooms each month. There are many rooms where pests are never a problem, while areas like the library and southwest end of the house see a predictable level of activity from year to year.

Another component of Pat’s role at the IMA is to identify any insects that are found in the museum.  Staff at the museum take IPM very seriously, which helps to prevent any issues from occurring.  If an insect is found, it’s placed in a sealed bag and given to a conservator, who then passes it on to Pat for identification in the lab at Insects Limited.  Bugs are something that a lot of people don’t talk about in everyday life, but museum people do!  The staff knows that when you find an insect in a museum, you certainly can’t ignore it (or scream and run away) like you might at home.  It’s important to get past the “Ew! Gross!” mentality and simply protect the collection. Perhaps now, if you happen to hear someone in the museum field throw out the phrase “IPM” and act like they know something you don’t, you can respond, “Oh? How are the ladybird beetles this year?”

This conservation project involved examining, understanding, and documenting an artist’s change and ultimately how far to take the conservation treatment.  This project also highlights the thought process surrounding certain conservation treatment choices, or in this case, the choice not to do something.

Looking, Observing, Understanding: The Examination Stage

Before treatment image of "White Cloud" by John Rogers Cox.

All conservation work begins with careful examination, the first stage of which includes just looking at the painting and noticing details from the surface, from the brush strokes in the paint, and from the support (yes, we spend lots of time looking at the back of the painting too).  If you don’t understand what’s there, then you can’t know how to perform the conservation treatment.  So with the painting in the IMA’s conservation lab, I began to look and observe.

The first thing I noticed was the artist’s signature.  The artist signed and dated the painting 1943, then it appears that he added a second date: RE. 1946.  I contacted Lisa Petrulis, the Swope’s Curator of Collections and Exhibitions and she shared some of the research and literature regarding Cox, which tells an interesting story.

Detail of the signature and dates for "White Cloud."

There is written documentation that Cox was unhappy with aspects of White Cloud.  A 1952 article by Marilyn Robb in Art News, tells the story of how Cox sold the painting to Dr. Harold Laufman, then went to Laufman’s house and got permission to repaint it, changing a barn into a house and reworking the sky.

It was not uncommon for Cox to labor over his compositions and make changes throughout the painting process.  Cox described his process in the October 1951 issue of American Artist: “I hardly ever paint a picture the same way twice.  Sometimes I make sketches before starting, sometimes I draw directly on the canvas or panel and then paint, and sometimes I just begin to paint directly.”

In the same article, Cox described how he made changes during the painting process of a Southwestern-inspired setting, consisting of a boulder in a barren landscape:

“I did not stick with the original idea one hundred percent, but changed it constantly as I went along.  In this particular picture I painted out, or sanded off, four different skys and redesigned the boulder three or four times…..I worked on the painting at spasmodic intervals over a period of one year, laying it aside once for two months to do something else.”

Detail of "White Cloud," showing the house in lower right.

Rather than depict actual landscapes, most of Cox’s paintings are done from memory, which may be why he makes changes and spends so much time sorting out details of the composition throughout the painting process.

There were some obvious signs that the sky in White Cloud had been reworked.  There was a halo of a lighter blue paint surrounding the clouds, where the darker blue layer was painted up to the edges of the clouds, leaving that small bit of the underlying blue visible.  The underlying lighter blue layer was also visible at the edge of the painting.

Detail of the white clouds showing a halo of lighter blue paint below the darker blue paint that was applied later.

Detail of the right edge of the painting where the underlying layers of light blue paint for the sky are visible.

In general, the surface of the sky was uneven in texture—there were surface irregularities and slight indentations throughout.   These irregularities were underneath the top layers of paint.  Now the question was: did the artist rework the sky, or was the sky repainted during a previous restoration campaign?  It was likely a combination of both.

The first task was to get a better image of the artist’s change.  This was done with Infrared reflectography (IRR).

Overall IRR image of "White Cloud" showing the artist’s change in the lower right. The barn that had initially been painted in 1943 was changed into a Victorian revival-style house in 1946.

Detail of IRR showing the artist’s change made in 1946. The barn beneath the house is clearly legible.

To get another glimpse of what was going on beneath the surface, I used x-radiography to further document the artist’s change and to get a better idea of what was going on with the layers in the sky. Again, we get a clear look at the barn beneath the house.

Digital x-radiograph of the bottom right corner showing the underlying barn and extensive damages in the sky.

After seeing the old damages in the sky in the digital x-radiograph, other areas of the sky were x-rayed.  The x-radiograph below gives you an idea of how extensive the old damages.  Large areas of the sky appear to have flaked away at some point.  This raised more questions:

Were the damages caused by inherent vice of the artist’s materials and technique?  Was there poor adhesion between the paint layers that the artist initially applied?  Or perhaps, the environmental conditions that the painting was exposed to over the years were not ideal?

X-radiograph taken near the center of the painting to the right of the clouds in the sky. The darker areas to the right and below the clouds are old damages. These damages are currently covered by layers of overpaint, which is why the surface of the painting appears very uneven.

The examination report for White Cloud included a detailed description of the surface irregularities throughout the sky.  In general, the surface had undulating bumps and depressions and there were very glossy areas that appeared to be old retouching from previous restoration campaigns.  The artist was probably not the only one to rework the sky.  It is possible and likely that the entire sky was repainted during a previous restoration.  To further investigate all the layers of the sky more details scientific analysis, such as cross-section microscopy to look at the stratigraphy of the layers, would be necessary.

Other aspects of note in regards to the painting’s condition include the presence of small areas where the paint was cleaving and flaking, and prominent mechanical cracks in the foreground that exposed an underlying white ground layer.

If you look closely at the trunk of the tree on the left, you can see a small paint loss where the underlying blue paint is exposed (hint: it’s near the center of the trunk).

Next Step: The Conservation Treatment

With a good understanding of the structure, the conservation history, and the current state of the painting, conservation treatment could begin.  Not only did we have some questions about the many layers, damages, and reworkings of the sky, but there was also an exhibition deadline for the painting.  The Swope was lending it to the exhibition To Make a World: George Ault and 1940s America.  The treatment proposal for this painting was relatively simple:

1. Stabilize any areas of flaking paint.
2. Clean the painting to remove any dirt, dust and soot from the varnished surface.
3. Apply an additional varnish layer to even out the variation on surface gloss from the many retouchings and to adjust the gloss to make the surface irregularities less obvious.
4. Inpaint the prominent mechanical cracks that were present throughout the foreground.

The treatment would mainly address aesthetic concerns, and in the future – should time and resources allow – a more in-depth scientific analysis of the sky could be carried out.

After stabilizing the flaking paint by adding an adhesive, the surface dirt was removed with an aqueous solution.  Removing this dirt layer reduced the hazy appearance of the painting.

An aqueous cleaning mixture was used to remove the dirt, dust, and soot from the varnished surface of the painting.

Now that the dirt was gone, the surface was ready for a new layer of varnish.  An overall varnish layer was applied to even out the surface gloss.  Then inpainting of the cracks began.

Painting Conservators use very small brushes for inpainting to ensure that only the areas of damage are covered with conservation paints. You can imagine the time it takes to get the work done. If you look at the specular light in the area of the sky, you can see the irregularities in the paint surface.

Given all the precise details in White Cloud, the mechanical cracks were visually distracting.  Once they were inpainted, the foreground was more cohesive and the spatial depth of the landscape was much improved.  See for yourself in the “After Treatment” image below.

Before treatment detail in the bottom right corner showing the diagonal mechanical cracks that exposed the underlying white ground layer.

After treatment, the colors appeared slightly brighter because the surface dirt and soot were removed, the colors more vivid because a new layer of varnish was applied, and the spatial depth was improved once the prominent mechanical cracks were carefully inpainted.

In the case of this conservation treatment, less was more.  For now, the painting is stable and leaving what is likely extensive overpaint in the sky intact makes it possible to further examine the layers present and make better decisions about future steps towards the conservation of this painting.  Delving into the overpaint removal would require a substantial amount of time, not only for the research stage of a more in-depth examination, but also the hands-on work of the conservation treatment.  For now, I was able to make some small aesthetic improvements and now the painting is on display for visitors to enjoy.

Robert Indiana, "Numbers," 1980-1982, Gift of Melvin Simon and Associates.

When you drive by Robert Indiana’s Numbers, you might think that these more-than-30 year-old sculptures look pretty good.  But if you get up close you’ll notice that the colors aren’t nearly as vibrant as they once were and the surface has lost much of its original glossy appearance.  Also, there are a few spots where the paint has chipped or fallen off.  So, even though our routine maintenance has kept them looking as good as possible, it’s clear they need attention, or since they were made by Indiana, I could say that they, ah, need some LOVE.

Numbers has been on my mind a lot recently because I’ve been researching the most intervening conservation treatment of the work’s life: this spring we’ll be completely stripping and re-painting each number to appear as they were first fabricated.

Before undertaking a conservation treatment of this scale it is important first to have all of the historic information at hand so we can be assured that we are making the right choices along the way, and ultimately that Numbers looks great.  I won’t go into all of the technical information of the treatment here, but I would like to share a bit of its story.  Thanks to the help of pre-program objects conservation intern Jessica Ford, we’ve put together a fairly complete history of Numbers.  Jessica and I have also added a lot of information to the Wikipedia article about Numbers.

Detail of flaking paint.

In 1980 Indiana was commissioned to make Numbers as part of the 20^th-anniversary celebration of Indianapolis-based Simon Property Group (then called Melvin Simon & Associates). However, Indiana’s interest in numbers began long before 1980, as he states in the 2009 documentary A Visit to the Star of Hope: Conversations with Robert Indiana:

“My involvement with numbers started with my mother, and her insistence on moving from house to house in Indiana. Before I was 17 years old I had lived in 21different houses. For my mother and father, their only amusement was really the automobile, and so we’d jump in the car and go driving around and check out all of those houses that we had lived in; and, of course, there was a number one, and there was a number two, and there was a number three.”

For his important 1980 commission Indiana produced the following print called The Ten Stages: Number Sculptures Reflected.

Robert Indiana, "The Ten Stages Number Sculptures Reflected," 1980. © Morgan Art Foundation Ltd./Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

The artist has stated that his inspiration for this drawing came in the early 1970s when he was an artist-in-residence at Dartmouth College and was given a copy of the 19^th-century print of The Life and Age of Man: Stages of Man’s Life, from the Cradle to the Grave.  In a recent telephone interview, Indiana told me that the print still hangs in his studio, and that it looked like this black and white one by James Baille:

James Baille, "The Life and Age of Man: Stages of Man's Life from the Cradle to the Grave," 1848.

From 1980 to 1983, Indiana fabricated each of the eight-foot-tall aluminum sculptures at Lippincott, Inc. in North Haven, CT.  In addition to fabricating Indiana’s first LOVE sculpture, which is so prominently displayed at the IMA, Lippincott fabricated important works for Ellsworth Kelly, Louise Nevelson, Barnett Newman, and Claes Oldenburg. (A well-illustrated monograph, Large Scale, was published in 2010 about the early years at Lippincott—I recently interviewed the author over on the Art21 Blog.)

In 2002, when a version of Numbers was on display on Park Avenue, Carol Vogel interviewed Indiana about the sculptures for an article in the New York Times.  In this article, Indiana identified the significance of the colors of each number in parallel to the original print:

1, Red and green, represents birth
2, Blue and green, infancy
3, Orange and blue, youth
4, Red and yellow, adolescence
5, Blue and white, pre-prime of life
6, Red and green, prime of life
7, Blue and orange, early autumn
8, Orange and purple, autumn
9, Yellow and black, warning
0, Shades of gray, death

”I didn’t use 10 because I don’t like double digits,” he said.

By 1983 Indiana had finished Numbers and it was in the possession of Simon Property Group.  While we’ve not been able to find a clear record of where each number was displayed, or really even good evidence that each part of Numbers was actually on display here in the city, it is known that 1 was first on view outside the Simon headquarters and that some of them were around the city of Indianapolis in the early 1980s at various locations.

Here’s a 1981 photo of well-known Children’s Museum of Indianapolis director Mildred Compton celebrating her 21st year of service in the central court of the museum on Meridian Street.

And here’s an account of 1, 2, and 3 being used as the medal podium backdrop for the 1982 National Sports Festival held here in Indianapolis.

If you have pictures or evidence of any others being on display in Indy, please leave me a note in the comments section. I’d love to see where else they  were located.

As part of the commission, Simon Property made arrangements for Numbers to be donated to IMA once their anniversary celebration was finished. True to their word, they were given to the IMA in 1988, but not installed until 1992—around the time the IMA was headlong into constructing the Edward Larrabee Barnes wing of the museum. Here’s a slide I scanned of the 1992 installation with three young ladies in the foreground.

Once installed, they remained on the IMA’s Alliance Sculpture Court until 2002.   After the museum underwent another expansion and renovation, in 2005 they were installed in their current location on the east side of the mall.  During this time, Indiana worked with the museum to give Numbers a new arrangement by grouping pairs of them together.  Here’s how he defined all of the pairings:

41 Pearl Harbor took place while I lived in Indianapolis
29 The crash which I experienced as a child on the East Side
50 Suggesting in part my hometown’s most famous institution: the last zero lost on a fast curve
76 The United States birthday every hundred years
38 My father worked for many years on this street

Indiana has created multiple versions of Numbers in a variety of sizes and materials and displayed them all over the world, however the IMA has the original set and the only one that hasn’t left the state of Indiana since it was fabricated.

And now a new chapter begins for our Numbers.  While it may seem fairly straightforward to restore these sculptures (they are after all, just painted aluminum), they were originally painted with a specialized coating system which is more than 30 years old itself, making them a bit tricky to re-paint correctly. Also, with a total of 20 different colors used (two on each), matching the colors can have its difficulties.  But we’ve assembled a solid team for the project and we all look forward to having them back at the IMA looking better than ever.

Finally, I leave you with picture of Robert Indiana talking with IMA Registrar Sherry Peglow in 2000 when the artist was last here to help install the exhibition Crossroads of American Sculpture, which included other Indiana-born artists John Chamberlain, Bruce Nauman, George Rickey, David Smith, and William Wiley.