The Parthenon under construction
The Paintings at Knossos

Novik:

Gabi Dolff-Bonekaemper writes in a Getty Conservation Institute newsletter that the feeling generated at a sight has been described as the ‘genius loci’, or the spirit of the sight. This spirit “is often hard to describe… it makes people feel that they share past experiences, as if there were a direct access to history.” Is it possible to ensure that future generations can experience these sites in the same way our ancestors have? Do the costs of preserving an ancient site outweigh the benefits? Although it can be argued that the reconstruction of archaeological sites is unauthentic, restoration efforts should be employed as often as possible in order for the site to continue to transmit some semblance of its original message.

The Roman Colosseum has endured many centuries of wear and destruction. These days, it is estimated that only 20% of the original structure survives. In 1973 conservators began an $18 million dollar project to stabilize the amphitheater so that it was safe for tourists. However, they decided not to rebuild any of the theatre; all efforts are focused on excavation and restoration. Does the presence of a somewhat empty shell of the once magnificent structure keep the ruin from transmitting its history and its message?

The Grecian Parthenon is employing a method called anastylosis in which original material is used to reconstruct an ancient structure. However, often the original material is not available, or sturdy enough to support the ancient temple. In these cases, ancient material is filled with new Pentelic marble to provide stability, and scientists have recently determined that modern materials such as titanium clamps are more durable then iron in the maritime climate. Because the architects realize that the use of new material in the reconstruction is not ideal, the focus on the aspect of reversibility so that their actions can be mended in the future.This method of reconstruction seems to be a beneficial step up from the mere stabilization of the Roman Colosseum. The architects and conservators are rebuilding with as much original material as possible, and taking the idea of reversibility into account. The drawbacks, however, are also clear. The original conservators ripped any trace of non-classical stylistic elements from the site, limiting our current historical view. Centuries of material and evidence were removed in order to project a Parthenon that existed for a very limited amount of time. Does the removal of this evidence hide the truth from viewers? Is it projecting an untrue temple?

Knossos is the site of an ancient palace on the island of Crete. The site had been excavated multiple times throughout history, but in 1900, archaeologist Sir Arthur Evans took over the excavations. Although Evans was highly enthusiastic about the Minoan culture, he was largely self-taught, and not always scientifically precise. Evans hired artists and architects to restore the rooms he excavated. He dubbed the process ‘reconstitution’, claiming that he was preserving the site through reconstruction. Evans employed artists to reconstitute the throne room, however it is clear to modern archaeologists that these paintings are not based on any evidence, and are purely the imaginings of the artist. Much of the site seems to be influenced by styles popular during Evan's time such as art deco. Similar to the problems surrounding the reconstruction of the Parthenon, Knossos is a multi-period site that has been reduced to one point in history. In addition to this, the point in history that Sir Arthur Evans chose may have never existed, further complicating the quest for truth.

Now that we have looked at situations in which reconstruction is problematic, let us review its benefits. As in the case of the Parthenon and the Colosseum, these ancient sites provide society with a renewed sense of pride and nationalism. They are symbols for the country and for its rich history. Since these sights are such strong historic symbols, they also attract a lot of people, boosting local economy and recognition. Reconstruction lures these tourists to the site and also helps to ensure the preservation of the site for future tourists. Reconstruction can also serve as research for ancient building methods, which leads to an addition to the general knowledge of the world. These sites function as entertainment to modern tourists, and for that reason it is too idealistic to assume that they will continue to transmit their message in this age of technology. Archaeological sites must adapt to the changing tastes and fleeing attention spans of the modern world. However, it is immensely important to maintain scientific and factual integrity, and the concept of reversibility must always be taken into consideration. But in this age, there is nothing wrong with a gimmick. If a site needs to reconstruct in order to interest and educate the new generations, then it is step that should be taken. Yet it is important that the site looks back to the methods employed previously, and that they learn from the mistakes we have investigated.

Images: http://images.cdn.fotopedia.com/flickr-2921956987-image.jpg,http://www.utexas.edu/courses/introtogreece/lect20/dbParthenonConstruction.jpg

The Power of Hate-Barr

When the Croatians and Serbs retracted from the Bosnian Parliament in the October of 1991 to create their own assemblies, the initial step to undermining the thousands of years of Serbian, Croatian, and Muslim co-existence had been taken. This symbolic initiativethat divided the three ethnicities on a political level foreshadowed the future animosity, which caused rampant destruction in the civil war, which raged from 1992-1995. Death, demolition, and deteriorating infrastructure characterized the situation. While all sides hold responsibility for some of the carnage, the Serbs in particular engaged in ethnic cleansing, rape, and conducting large prison camps where inmates were tortured and executed. However, it was not just people who were victimized by this conflict. The Serbs and the Croats also sought to destroy Bosnia’s rich and diverse heritage; thus many important monuments such as the Stari Most, the National and University Library of Bosnia and Herzegovina in Sarajevo, and the Ferhadija Mosque were targeted as testaments to Bosnia’s multicultural and Ottoman traditions. Both the ruin and the reconstruction of these historic sites emphasize the tense atmosphere that remains in the country despite the official commitment to reconciliation.

Built in 1566 by Ottoman architect Mimar Harjrudin, the Stari Most was feat of engineering genius. Teenagers, travelers, lovers, and businessmen gathered on this beloved bridge that represented the link between the East and West as well as the connection between the Catholic Croats and Bosnian Muslims. It was the Stari Most’s multi-cultural connotation that incited the nationalistic Croatian military to destroy the architectural wonder on November 9, 1993. Both the international community and the residents of Mostar decided to spend 15.5 million dollars to create an exact replica of the bridge. Unfortunately, many of the original stones had pitted and corroded causing the Turkish construction firm to cut new blocks from the same quarry. The project was completed in 2004 and was supported by most of the town that wanted the tourists the bridge would bring to the town. Years of war and its aftermath economically devastated the city. Only a few Croatian extremists balked that the bridge was not a symbol of the town and was “not worth the finger of one Croat soldier.” However, the Stari Most has not healed the wounds that many people hoped that it would. The Bosnian and Croatian sides run separate municipal services and rarely interact, especially at night. Visitors come to see the bridge, not the hurt that continues to tear the sides apart so have done little to mend the emotional scars.

Likewise, the National and University Library of Bosnia and Herzegovina, founded in 1945, also suffered as a result of its cosmopolitan significance. This major collection occupied the Vajencia, a Moorish-Revival building constructed in 1896, which embodied both Austrian-Hungarian and Islamic influences. Soon after its completion, the building was regarded for its beauty. The Vajencia served a variety of functions and finally become the home of the library in 1951. Between 1945 and 1992, the facility amassed more than three million item including manuscripts and volumes written in languages of the ethnicities and creeds that have shaped Bosnia. Like the Stari most, the library’s diverse collection sparked the anger of the radical Serbian leader, Nikola Koljevic, who resented the scholarship, Ottoman influence, and variety of cultures the institution represented. Thus, on August 25, 1992, Ratko Mladic troops shelled the library. Many locals tried to save the collection, but only ten percent of the collection was recovered. Sadly, the reconstruction of the library has been plagued with difficulties including financial and logistical problems. Dr. Eunes Kujundzic, the director of the National andnd University Library of Bosnia and Herzegovina, has stressed the urgency to rebuild. UNESCO and the European Union greatly contributed to renovating the Vajencia but faulty finances have stalled the initiative. The library is operating out of academic buildings of the University of Sarajevo with less space and less staff members. Many nations have donated services and money to restoring the collection. Harvard and Yale in particular have worked to create a master bibliography of the library’s holdings, and some countries have helped train staff members with new technologies. These positive steps are overshadowed by the lingering question of whether the library is going to be relocated in the Vajencia and the fact that thousands of documents and records will never be able to be recovered. This loss of materials and former glory is a tragic result of the conflict.

While the Serbians attacked cultural heritage landmarks, they particularly sought to obliterate the mosques. The Ferhadija Mosque had been an emblem of Banja Luka for both Muslim and Christian citizens. On May 7, 1993, the Bosnian Serbs detonated this important structure with plastic explosives and a slow blowing fuse. It was especially important for the extreme Serbs to raze the site and then later try to shape a new history that left the Ferhadija Mosque out of photographs and documents, thus attempting to form a purified past and future. The Muslim citizens immediately started to push for the reconstruction of the mosque, but they encountered significant resistance and discrimination despite the approval of global organizations and the United States. The May 2001 riot attested to this active and violent prejudice that persisted after the war. Finally, the Bosnian government granted the Muslims the permission to reconstruct their mosque, which uses traditional methods and sixty percent of the original materials. It can be deemed as a success but not a victory untainted by the strong hatred of the Bosnian Serbian leaders and population.

Each of these sites represents Bosnia past, but as their reconstruction exemplifies, stones and mortar cannot completely erase the burdens and discord between the groups. Bosnia’s culture changed with the war,and the challenges with reinstating these monuments reflects this reality. It should be noted that the Ferhadja Mosque received the most vehement contention, which accentuates the ant-Muslim feeling that permeates the nation.

The pictures were found at:

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://johnfenzel.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451608369e201156fd3839b970b-500wi&imgrefurl=http://johnfenzel.typepad.com/john_fenzels_blog/2009/04/balkan-redux.html&usg=__TgSxt3wu_XyG1-gtBwogR1CMCPs=&h=375&w=500&sz=131&hl=en&start=3&sig2=kpzq8MvSBJWKV042-WC5lQ&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=KPgrmYj2UBranM:&tbnh=98&tbnw=130&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dstari%2BMost%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=uTDnS4OEMcT7lweirIzxBg

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://snorkig.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/p90289-mostar_bosnia_herzegovina-stari_most.jpg&imgrefurl=http://snorkig.wordpress.com/2009/11/09/9-november/&usg=__zZBtNQMroqjApvWSFgsp3CsvyMw=&h=474&w=332&sz=24&hl=en&start=12&sig2=wDebKdwfpIwiDtGQwdJfrQ&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=HythwkxE4BDTvM:&tbnh=129&tbnw=90&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dstari%2BMost%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DG%26rls%3Den%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=BDHnS_OfCsXflgf0qJzfBg

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://faculty.ksu.edu.sa/Alghailani/Pictures%2520Library/Ferhadija.jpg&imgrefurl=http://faculty.ksu.edu.sa/Alghailani/Pictures%2520Library/Forms/DispForm.aspx%3FID%3D9&usg=__Qea8e3WfoXRgo-fTjjLwKaVs-HE=&h=300&w=210&sz=27&hl=en&start=1&sig2=itwXxa1c5rmjimbCbVwqjQ&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=tJeknjGco-ODdM:&tbnh=116&tbnw=81&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dferhadija%2Bmosque%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Den%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=SjHnS-qtBYGdlge48KjzBg

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.pri.org/theworld/files/images/fragments.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.pri.org/theworld/%3Fq%3Dnode/20348&usg=__XK0K22bIVTEzAzuzidpi9W5lEcw=&h=300&w=400&sz=95&hl=en&start=10&sig2=6iw7UzuO0yDDau6ETYLxkw&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=l9IOcTCXsBUYIM:&tbnh=93&tbnw=124&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dferhadija%2Bmosque%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Den%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=SjHnS-qtBYGdlge48KjzBg

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.richardsilverstein.com/tikun_olam/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/sarajevo-library-serotta.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.richardsilverstein.com/tikun_olam/2008/09/07/centropas-images-of-a-lost-world-balkan-sephardic-life/&usg=__xUxt2jxyKWjIqQm5c3ZDBVHHC_M=&h=312&w=315&sz=27&hl=en&start=12&sig2=OWGfnm-iBnAfFPzWlbeUGw&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=LoRqaM6EgpMJ-M:&tbnh=116&tbnw=117&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dlibrary%2Bof%2Bsarajevo%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DG%26rls%3Den%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=rTHnS-KvAoWdlgfuwIzuBg

http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://images.nextstop.com/__ns1__66019e95-2bf5-4eb7-b219-ab3aac630cc4_240_219&imgrefurl=http://www.nextstop.com/p/uISWXBlko2Q/vjecnica/&usg=__o0h7Xr1NGTXe8y-cysuBJK-zHNE=&h=219&w=240&sz=14&hl=en&start=25&sig2=fgXGhg-mad1qvFMvFK4Y7A&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=_531_B2q4HP2uM:&tbnh=100&tbnw=110&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dlibrary%2Bof%2Bsarajevo%26start%3D20%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26ndsp%3D20%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=5jHnS7GTCIT6lweC_5TgBg

How “Universal” is Cultural Heritage? How Do We Consume Art? -- Martinek

This week’s articles focus on where the allegiance of a conservator lies with respect to the heritage of cultural objects. The articles suggest that there are three main parties to be considered (the museum, the viewer/public, and the object itself), but focus mainly on two (the museum seems to be grouped with the object). In his article, “Historic Stewardship and the Amateur Tradition”, David Lowenthal highlights the “integrity of the object” and the need to preserve the true heritage of that object instead of endowing it with “some quasi-divine sanctity”.

STONEHENGE, an important but badly-managed heritage site

All of the articles emphasize the importance of making sources of significant heritage accessible to the public, which can’t be done if conservators are so worried about protecting the object that they build a wall between “academic” and “active” life (Lowenthal). All material is meant to disintegrate eventually over time, and while a conservator must consider the “sustainability” of an object it is important to “enable its use” for people now (Corruchaga). Do you agree? Should a conservator’s first priority be to the people or to the object and the museum which wishes to protect it? How can a museum attract people if it prefers the object’s physical preservation over the integrity of the experience people gain from interacting with it?

Elizabeth Pye points out how important and beneficial it is for people to be able to hold objects. There is an “element of exploration and discovery” that we can only find when we employ our hands, for “our facility with tools…mark us as human”. Where do human nature and emotion fit in? How important are they in preserving the integrity of heritage?

What happens when we are not only forbidden from touching the object, but from even seeing it, as in the case of many indigenous Australian sites? Andrew Thorn explores the idea of the conservator as “visitor”, an outsider who cannot possibly understand or fully appreciate the integrity of the piece that must be conserved because it is not allowed. Is it still possible for the object to maintain its integrity in this instance? How about with non-indigenous viewers? Is there a responsibility to them? Who decides and why?

Lowenthal states that “we may be more caring stewards of things” when we realize that they cannot last forever – maybe this holds true for things that we can never fully understand as well.

indigenous drawings at KADAKU, an indigenous site that is working to satisfy cultural wishes and tourist curiousity

This may also be the case in instances where we can see the object, but it is not the original. Corruchaga and Monforte talk about how public understanding and appreciation grew for Altamira when the original site had to be closed down and people had to replicate their experience in the Neocave. Even though it is not the original, the replica is effective in maintaining the integrity of the site because it shows how fragile heritage is and helps people understand the changes over time that the cave went through over time – also while allowing the site to be preserved without disturbance as well.

Most of the articles seemed to suggest that a conservator’s allegiance lay first and foremost with the object, but is this always the case? As Balachandran pointed out, where there is no provenience or site information known, preserving an artifact may actually ruin its integrity. Can we say where a conservator’s allegiance should lie (with the museum, the object, or the public and their desire to experience the object…), or are there certain instances when one party may hold more weight than another?

Armed Conflicts, Its Aftermath, and National Claims—Carambelas

Topography of Terror, Berlin (Source)

Although preserving the past is a noble intent it doesn’t come without conflict and ethical concerns. Over time the material culture and buildings of a community comes to stand for that community, thus, an attack on these items is an attack on the group.

The attempts by Muslims to rebuild mosques and the hostile opposition they have encountered in the city of Banja Luka, Bosnia, are a good example of this notion. After being ethnically cleansed from the region by Serbs, rebuilding is a way to reassert the Muslim presence and right to belong; failing to rebuild would be an admission of defeat.

Rebuilding can also be used to mask the past and create what R. Bevan calls “forced forgetting.” After World War II many cities rapidly redeveloped in order to obscure the memory of German occupation and the Third Reich. In the case of Warsaw, Poland, the rebuilding helped to produce a new national identity which excluded German heritage and privileged certain memories over history. The Warsaw Uprising, for instance, was eliminated from that history because of the less than noble involvement of the Soviets under Moscow.

In some instances history has been sought by later generations through archaeological studies and memorials. The Topography of Terror exhibition and site in Berlin was begun in 1986 as symbolic archaeological dig to better understand the past. Professional archaeologists eventually took over the site and conserved the floors and walls of prison cells they uncovered. Today the site is set up as a didactic walkway that tells the history of the site and those who used it.

Sites of hurtful memories are proof against denial or attempts to mask the past, yet they may be offensive to some parties. So how can conservators ensure that history (and not memory) are preserved and represented in our daily landscapes?

Related Readings/Video

Rape of Europa (DVD 3420 at MSE)

Nora, Pierre. "Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Memoire." Representation (Spring 1989): 7-24. (Available through JSTOR)

The Church of St. Alexander, Warsaw, was built between 1818-1826 and razed by the Nazis in 1944 following the failed Warsaw Uprising. Its reconstruction--although following the plan of the original--lacks the finesse of the original and has been described by critics as a 'Disneyfication.' (Destroyed: Source) (Rebuilt: Source)

Personal and Community Claims on Cultural Heritage- Novik

Mahayana murals that are slowly falling apart. Sanjay Dhar presents the issues of conserving objects such as this one with minimal intervention in a site that is still being used. Is there a way to preserve these kinds of artifacts without disturbing the people and the religion? Or do you have to let the object live its life and then die?

A rendering of Sarah Bartmann

The readings this week provided us with some very different viewpoints examining the issue of owning and repatriating cultural objects. Nokomis Paiz told a personal story in which she acted as the link between an American Indian tribe and the museum. This article was troubling because Paiz revealed a darker side to a relationship that seemed so virtuous. It seemed very obvious that the original creators should be consulted when museums are conserving these objects, however Paiz felt that this experience was very uncomfortable. "and yet there (the objects) are, thousands of miles away from the people who created them, their people who may not know that they are there or even exist." Paiz seemed to feel two strong and conflicting tugs from both her ancestors and her profession. Her internal conflicts were fueled by beliefs similar to the objectives that the Banjilaka Aboriginal Centre at the Melbourne Museum has set forth. Their stated goal is to: "increase visitors understanding of Australian Indigenous rights, recognition, and perspectives." Paiz, however, seems to feel that this goal is not possible when these artifacts are housed in a museum instead of being returned to their original community. The Aboriginal Centre has three main goals in attempt to counter this issue: 1. Aboriginal involvement is essential. 2. The object is equally as important as the information it represents and contains. 3. All conservation efforts must adhere to the cultural requirements expressed by the native consults. While these ideas seem very good, are they truly possible? Can an object that was once used and loved continue to convey its information if it is sitting in a museum? Can the Aboriginal people ever be as 'involved' as they would like to be?
Christopher Pala and Jatti Bredekamp bring a new conflict to the table: human remains. I can easily understand the museums arguments for owning and displaying cultural artifacts. A museum is a place of knowledge and discovery and their main objective is to educate the masses. However, a whole new set of morals is brought into play when you are displaying what remains of a person. The case of Sarah Bartmann is a disheartening tale of the Western world. After being displayed as an African novelty her entire life, her remains were also used for display after her death. Where do the rights of a human come into play? Does the educational aspect of displaying human remains ever override the moral complications? To whom should remains be returned if no family remains? Is burial truly 'better' than being used for science if no one has a claim to the remains? The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 (NAGPRA) was formulated to attempt to answer some of these questions about graves in Honolulu. Is there any way that a bill can determine the moral implications and arguments surrounding a human being?

Pictures:

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6DYMrCjicTJxx17UEST3oMssiwLdcFWDf-g3jurr6jPnYCc_omGjCUecNdGrlJ0I9LUEUrd8Adjr56HCyzHdLWumMA5wooFJG0Iv5q5ii4nFo7MgAJxPQZLULSFQby7AwV0UHcf0NDz5j/s400/The+Hottentot+Venus.jpg

http://www.rinpoche.com/stories/ladakh_files/image010.jpg

Using Objects So That They Live or Die

Kongo nkisi figure, 19th century, wood, vegetable fibers, and metal
Minneapolis Institute of Arts

Ashton: In this week’s readings, we explored the ways in which some artworks are intended to continue “living” even after their artist’s death. This goal presents many challenges for conservators to weigh the importance of “original” objects to the work versus the ability for the object to “live,” the desire to preserve the actual object versus the intended use or function of an object, and the cultural context of the object versus the ethics of the museum. I was especially interested in Kaminitz’s discussion of the benefits of reciprocity between native groups and the museum – that cooperation allows the museums to obtain crucial information about the background of the objects and provides native groups the opportunity to preserve their cultural objects and practices as well as control of the interpretation of the objects. This is a more moderate approach compared to Jones-Amin’s look into the difficulty and ultimate failure of the museum to replicate cultural context while upholding conservation principles.

Jean Tinguely at work on Homage to New York (1960)
Courtesy Museum Tinguely, Basel, and The New York Times

Hughes: In the interview portion of “Reconstruction of a Moving Life, The Playful World of Jean Tinguely: An Interview with Ad Petersen,” Petersen, a former curator, half-laments “In a museum […] a certain fossilization occurs; you can’t do anything about this.” This idea seems to be the subtext of most of the readings this week. Art and objects taken out of context and placed in the museum setting often just sit there, no longer actively used. Mellor points out that African objects, even if they were at one time magical, sacred or powerful, lose these intangible qualities when they are removed from their cultural context. While a certain “fossilization” may be inevitable (or even desired when handling vengeful artifacts such as the Kongo nkisi figure), the viewer would prefer for objects to live as long as possible. The case of Tinguely’s Gismo, with all of its mechanical parts, was a particularly complex problem for conservators. Exhaustive art historical research led the team to conclude, “Gismo has to move, otherwise it does not ‘live.’”

Modern and Contemporary Art -- Martinek

("Spiral Jetty", Robert Smithson)

“Nature,” as Robert Smithson put it, “does not proceed in a straight line…it is rather a sprawling development. Nature is never finished” (Kennedy).

The same can be said for contemporary art, and the role that conservators play in its preservation and transmission. This week’s articles introduced us to the conservator as a “surrogate artist” (Davies); we see artists not only pushing the boundaries of what art means, but we see conservators assuming more and more of the creative role once the original piece has been crafted. But how much responsibility is too much? How can we determine this?

In their article, “The Challenge of Installation Art”, Glenn Wharton and Harvey Molotch break down the main defining factors that a conservator must consider when working with contemporary art: the physical context of the installation, the varying and changing values of its pieces, its physical transformations, documentation and collaborators available each time all contribute to the definition of the art. These factors can all change quickly and drastically. While the article focuses on installation pieces, these factors are important issues in all contemporary art (and in all other art as well, although in comparison, traditional art and conservation have a much narrower set of rules applied to changes that in most cases aren’t quite as time sensitive). “Meaning and materiality cannot be fixed,” Wharton and Molotch state, “the capacity to perpetuate the art, in some way or another, depends on capacities and conditions in the present moment and not just on those in the past”.

But even if a conservator understands and embraces these factors, how do they account for constant change and settle on a course of action? When an artist is available the conservator can look to them for advice, but what happens if the artist is not, or it is difficult to follow their wishes? Should the conservator prioritize the artist’s input over everything else? I liked Christian Scheidemann’s position in “The Art Doctor” (by Rebecca Mead) about being “responsible to the artwork, not to the artist or to the collector”. But what exactly does that mean? The artwork is brainchild of the artist – without their idea the piece obviously would not exist. So how can it be separated as an entity in its own right? Even with the collector or the public viewing the piece, the physical piece is tied to their individual interpretations, which are crucial for the definition and transmission of its message.

("M.K.N.Y.", conserved by Scheidemann)

In “The Art Doctor” Mead highlights the changes in conservation attitudes from the sixteenth century – a focus on “contemporary” practices with disregard for “the aesthetics of antiquity” – to today’s union of contemporary attitudes and acknowledgment of the passage of time. As Wharton and Molotch point out, “the process continues along a two-way street of adjustment” between conservators expanding to fit the limitless imaginations of the artists, and artists acknowledging to a certain degree a need to fit their pieces within the facilities of conservationists. This two-way street reflects Scheidemann’s position of tailoring to the needs of the artwork – a product of all parties involved and therefore a compromise between the artist’s intent and conservation abilities/general understanding.

But again, how do we define the terms of this compromise, and who facilitates it? In “Meaning Matters” Laura Davies and Jackie Heuman point out that sometimes a conservator might think they have come to a compromise that works for all parties, when in reality they may have overstepped their bounds. After reading about Gallacio’s “Now the Day is Over”, do you think the conservators were too involved? Was the final product at all true to Gallacio’s intent?

Did the conservators consider all aspects enough to make an educated decision? Obviously as collaborators they considered different views, and before the piece was actually made there wasn’t much documentation, but what about how the floor was supposed to fit into its physical context? The importance of the smell of sugar? How the piece was supposed to change over time?

Stepping into Scheidemann’s shoes, did the conservationists protect the integrity of the artwork itself?

Artist Bill Viola reminds us that “it is easy to forget about the true inner life of art objects, the private knowledge that artists have put into these works”. How involved can a conservator be in the creative part of the process before disregarding these crucial concepts?

Images:
Spiral Jetty
(http://blogs.walkerart.org/offcenter/author/paul/page/2/)

M.K.N.Y.
(http://www.phillipsdepury.com/auctions/lot-detail.aspx?sn=UK010106&search=&p=&order=&lotnum=65)