Conservation for Exhibit

Several items are in the lab this month in preparation for TSLAC’s Civil War exhibit this fall.  At many institutions, exhibit materials compose their own workflow for conservation.  This month’s items represent the strengthening integration of conservation with our growing exhibits program here at TSLAC.

Conservation work for exhibit usually combines item stabilization with aesthetic improvements and display planning.  The goal is to have the item looking its best and displayed in a non-damaging way.  Just what kind of work might this generate?  I’m glad you asked!

Military Board Blotter

Military Board Blotter for exhibit, before treatment.

The loose paper covering on this 1860s military board blotter will be re-adhered to decrease the risk of further tearing and to improve the volume’s aesthetics.  The paper tabs at the book’s head contain significant information; rather than being removed, they will be tucked down into the volume.  Most importantly, the book’s opening will be chosen from among the pages most relevant to the exhibit, with preservation in mind.  The selected opening will create as little stress on the binding as possible over several months of display.  The book will also be fitted with a cradle to further minimize stress at that opening.

Harper's Weekly Engraving

Harper’s Weekly hand-colored engraving of the Battle of Galveston for exhibit, before treatment.

This 1863 hand-colored engraving from Harper’s Weekly illustrates both the Battle of Galveston and the effects of tape repairs.  Treatment will attempt to reduce the staining left behind by this previously applied tape.  Stain reduction is a case-by-case effort dependent upon many unknown variables, such as the materials in the paper, the materials in the tape’s adhesive, and how those materials have aged and interacted in varying conditions over time.  Here, the age and condition of these stains may limit the treatment’s effectiveness; the tape’s plastic carrier and adhesive are long gone, leaving the stain to set for many years.  Special care will also be taken not to disturb the hand-coloring with solvents.

Regimental Return

Regimental Return for exhibit, before treatment.

Several items, such as this 1862 regimental return document, simply require flattening and basic mends.  This will improve exhibit appearance and also stabilize the documents to guard against further damage during handling and storage.  There are many items in this condition at TSLAC and other libraries and archives.  For them, exhibit serves as an additional selection method to bring them into the lab.

You can see these items and others on display in TSLAC’s lobby starting September 24.   Also unique to this exhibit will be a display devoted just to conservation – stay tuned for more.

 

Choosing Stabilization

When discussing conservation, it’s easy to lavish attention on flashy, full treatments that bring tattered items back from the grave.  A far greater number of treatments, however, simply aim for basic stabilization.  Oftentimes, restricted time and resources drive treatment compromises focused on just the most urgent needs.  Several examples are in the lab this month.

Item 1: Personnel of the Texas State Government from 1892 has serious condition issues.  Both boards are detached and the spine covering is missing.  The spine lining and the sewing have failed.  Worse, the paper is brittle and torn at its exposed edges and along the spine.  Many leaves are detached, and the book has been stored in a repurposed box that doesn’t fit well.  

item before treatment

Personnel of the Texas State Government, 1892, before treatment

Full treatment: Extensive paper mending would be required, especially in the spine region, which must be strong enough to support sewing.  The book would be re-sewn and re-lined, the boards would be re-attached, and a new spine covering would be created to match the boards.  This treatment might absorb half of the contributing department’s allotted conservation time for the month, with many other needy items in the queue.

Actual treatment: The most immediate concern is that paper fragments break and scatter every time this book is opened.  Accordingly, approximately 25 of the most damaged and vulnerable leaves will be mended.  A new box that fits the book will reduce shifting and resulting breakage.  This treatment will take just a few hours and does not preclude more extensive work in the future.

Items 2 and 3: The Climactic Conditions of Texas, also from 1892, is a relatively rare item existing in two copies here at TSLAC.  Both items have been side-sewn, a sewing style that requires the paper to be extremely flexible.  Unfortunately, this paper is brittle and acidic, and has broken where stressed.  Additionally, both copies are bound in improvised cases made of office supplies and other low-quality materials.

items before treatment

Climactic Conditions of Texas, 1892, two copies, before treatment

Full treatment: Both items would need to be disbound and re-sewn in a style that better distributes the book’s flexing action between the paper and the sewing.  Paper would be mended along its broken flex lines.  The spines would be lined, and new cases would be built from acid-free materials in a style aesthetically sympathetic to bindings of the late 19th century.  This treatment would take slightly more than half of the contributing department’s monthly conservation time, leaving many other items waiting for attention.

Actual treatment: Having multiple copies can broaden treatment options.  In this case, the full treatment will be pursued for Copy 2, which is in better condition and requires less paper mending.  Copy 1 will have approximately 15 of the most damaged pages mended, and will be fitted with a box to minimize future damage.  Rare items like this often warrant fuller treatments.  Here, we will also have a stabilized backup copy that could be more fully treated in the future if needed.

Factors like condition, rarity, use, and available resources combine to determine responsible conservation decisions.  In these examples, choosing stabilization treatments left time to treat other needy items.  In this way, conservation can focus deeply on single item treatment or more broadly on collections care.

Three books for treatment.

These three books will be treated with the time saved by choosing stabilization in the examples above.

Treating a Civil War Map

In July, I’ve been treating a hand-drawn Civil War map from the Sam Houston Research Center in Liberty, TX.  The document was glued to a backing board with historical annotations describing Burr’s Ferry, a site where Texas anticipated that Union forces would attempt to enter from Louisiana.

The hand-written annotations on the backing board raise several perplexing issues about the map.  First, the annotations indicate that a battle took place at Burr’s Ferry in September 1863.  However, other historical resources indicate that while a Burr’s Ferry invasion was expected, it never actually materialized.  Of further interest, the map itself seems not to depict Burr’s Ferry at all; it shows a region about 80 miles to the southeast, near modern day Melville, LA.  Though informative in their own way, historical labels and descriptions can sometimes raise more questions than they answer.

The darkened, brittle map was spot-glued to its backing board.  Over time, it had fractured around the glued regions and large sections had been lost.  Subsequent caretakers had responded by applying tape extensively across the front of the map and enclosing the item in Mylar.  Accordingly, this treatment offered many opportunities for physical and aesthetic improvement.

The first priority was to remove the map from its acidic backing board, which was exacerbating discoloration and brittleness.  The first step toward this was to remove the tape.  Fortunately, the tape was commercial Filmoplast of relatively recent application, and it was able to be removed mechanically.

Tape Removal

Removing Filmoplast tape

The glue holding the map to the board was water-soluble, and likely animal-based.  Local humidification through a vapor membrane was partially successful, but proved too prone to leave board fibers attached to the map.  Greater success was achieved with direct application of deionized water in a fine, aerosol mist.  Very slow, careful work was necessary to avoid damaging the map and to minimize disturbance to the backing board.

Backing Board Removal

Removing map from backing board.

Next, the map was washed and deacidified to reduce brittleness and discoloration, and to add a pH buffer to guard against ongoing deterioration.  Because the map was severely fractured, I used a flat, controlled washing method called blotter washing that relies on capillary action to pull degradation components into thick, dampened paper.

Fractured Pieces

The brittle, fractured map required careful blotter washing to avoid further damage.

After drying, the map was lined with an opaque Japanese tissue to hold the pieces together and fill the losses.  The tissue was toned with diluted acrylic paint to approximate the color of the map after washing.  The variety of shades in the mottled paper necessitated simply aiming for a neutral middle color.  I adhered the lining to the map with a reversible, water soluble wheat starch paste, working on a light table to align the many tiny, fractured pieces.

Lining

Preparing the map for lining on the light table. Losses seen here will be filled with the toned Japanese tissue lining.

The archivists and I agree that it’s worth keeping the backing board with its puzzling annotations.  Next week, I will surface clean the board and apply a deacidification spray to help control future brittleness and breaking.  I will also create a mat to support the map and assist in future exhibition.  Now that the map is more secure and stable, perhaps a future researcher can shed additional light on this document.

Happy 100th Birthday, Medina Dam

In the lab this month are three architectural drawings from 1910 – 1912, made in preparation for the construction of the Medina Dam near San Antonio.  Like many oversize materials, these drawings were rolled and required humidification and flattening for archival storage.

Two of the maps are hand-drawn on starch-coated linen.  The largest of these maps is 34” x 70”, making good use of the lab’s custom-made tables.

Medina Dam Plans - Linen

Hand-drafted plans for the Medina Dam on linen after flattening.

 

The third map, a 33” x 60” blueprint, required some additional work to remove previous tape repairs and mend numerous tears.

Medina Dam Blueprint

Blueprint of Medina Dam after flattening, tape removal, and mending tears.

The Medina Dam was built to control flooding and provide farmland irrigation in the Texas Hill Country, where water rights continue as a major issue in the present day (see the exhibit “Water in Texas,” currently on display in TSLAC’s lobby.)  The dam’s development group, the Medina Irrigation Company, also hoped to establish new towns and sell farmland based on irrigation improvements.  Much of the project’s funding actually came from British capital, an arrangement that became problematic with the outbreak of World War I in 1914.  With access to British funding limited and the Medina Irrigation Company in jeopardy, project leader Fred Pearson set out for England to make a personal appeal.  Unfortunately, Pearson sailed aboard the Lusitania in 1915, when it was sunk by German submarines in a major international incident that eventually helped spur American entry into WWI.  The troubled Medina Dam assets were eventually sold in 1950 to a local water district, which retains ownership today.

The dam and the resulting Medina Lake were promoted as tourism destinations in the 1920s and beyond, as seen in a hand-colored postcard from the period.

Medina Dam Postcard, 1920s

Hand-colored Medina Dam tourism postcard from the 1920s. Image and much of the preceding historical information courtesy “The Edwards Aquifer Website,” http://www.edwardsaquifer.net/medina.html

As tourism in the area continues, Texas Highways magazine commemorated the 100th anniversary of Medina Dam in its June 2012 issue, which gives us this charming account:

When Medina Lake was being constructed, there was a gravel toll road (built by an industrious landowner) leading from FM 471 to the construction site. Sightseers from San Antonio would travel up FM 471 in Packard touring cars and stop at a little rock house at the intersection, where a monkey wearing a tiny hat would come out and collect the tolls. The toll road was eventually paved and became FM 1283.

So happy 100th birthday, Medina Dam.

Medina Dam Tree

The folksy 1901 floodmarker referenced in this design (see first photo) likely ceased to offer useful information once Medina Lake filled.

Historical Equipment, Historical Documentation

Visitors to the conservation lab here at TSLAC often comment on our historic bindery equipment, much of which dates from the 19th century.   The board shear, backing press, and standing press are all working examples of how conservation reaches back to historical craft trades to create treatments that are sympathetic to an item’s earlier appearance and function.  One example of this lab equipment is the copy press, discussed in a previous post from Summer 2011.

copy press

Many copy presses like this one have been repurposed as small book presses in binderies and conservation labs.

Since items like the copy press still function as everyday, working equipment in the lab, it’s nice to have an occasional reminder of their historical origins.  One such reminder came from a book in the lab for treatment this month, the 1879-80 San Antonio City Directory.  Much like modern day phonebooks, city directories featured advertisements for local businesses, including this delightful spotlight of a copy press:

Stationer's advertisement with copy press

Stationer’s advertisement with copy press, 1879-80 San Antonio City Directory (click for detail.)

In the 19th century, “stationery” went far beyond the notecards of today to include a wide variety of writing and record-keeping supplies.  As seen in this advertisement, a stationer might offer account books, writing utensils, ink, and even playing cards.  The impressive selection at H. Barbeck’s store even seems to include musical instruments and cutlery!  However, despite this charming image, I have never personally seen an angel operating my copy press in the modern day.

AIC’s 40th Annual Meeting – Thoughts on Outreach and Advocacy

Last week, I attended the 40th annual meeting of the American Institute for Conservation, held in Albuquerque, NM.  It’s always good to reconnect with colleagues and with the conservation field at large, and this year was no exception.

The theme for this meeting was “Connecting to Conservation: Outreach and Advocacy,” and much discussion was devoted to social media and blogs like this one.  In an inspiring keynote address, Dr. Anne-Imelda Radice, former director of the Institute of Museum and Library Services, encouraged conservators to advocate for themselves politically, raising the profile of the profession by demanding improved funding and recognition at the local and especially the national level.  The effectiveness of this plea was its immediacy, encouraging the conservation field to empower itself and advocate for its own needs.

Many other sessions underscored conservation’s advocacy for related causes, such as libraries, museums, the arts, and education.  While online outreach allows the creation of targeted, digital interest groups, the move toward publicly featuring conservation treatment demonstrates the power of first-hand observation.  Professional outreach is equally important; my talk, “Toward an Ontology of Audio Preservation,” generated thoughtful discussion on the topics of authenticity and reformatting at the Electronic Media Group session.

There has been a concerted effort in recent years to bring conservation out of hidden, basement labs and into the public eye.  When carefully balanced against workflow needs, this trend can elevate the profile of the profession and its host institutions alike.  Of course, much of this promotion is driven by fundraising needs within perennially underfunded arts and humanities institutions.  Ideally, our outreach function as conservators is to find ways in which fundraising and educational goals go hand in hand.  That way, libraries, museums, and the conservation field can elevate each other’s profiles together, and development directors and conservators can shake hands and be happy partners.

Informal Research on Washing and Deacidification

Since last August, I have been pursuing an informal treatment study on batches of Civil War-era documents undergoing washing and deacidification.  Today, I’d like to share some informal, preliminary results.  First, a very cursory overview of some relevant conservation chemistry.

Paper inscribed with iron gall ink, like these Civil War documents, frequently undergoes two types of degradation.  One type is caused by the presence of acid in the paper.  The second type is caused by the presence of iron ions in the ink.  Both types of degradation weaken paper, causing it to discolor, become brittle, and break.

Washing and deacidification treatments address the first problem by neutralizing pH and adding alkaline buffer.  In recent years, chelation treatments have been developed to address the second problem.  These treatments lock up iron ions and make them unable to continue damaging paper. 

I frequently pursue washing and deacidification in the TSLAC lab, and I have been considering introducing a chelation workflow, as well.  To help make that decision, I decided to evaluate the effectiveness of my current treatment by measuring acidity and iron ion presence in the Civil War documents before and after treatment.  Surface pH is measured with an Extech handheld pH meter, and iron ion presence is evaluated with iron gall test papers developed by the ICN conservation program in the Netherlands.  I classify the test paper results from 0 (no iron ions indicated) to 4 (iron ions strongly indicated.)

Given published research, I expected that washing and deacidification would affect paper pH strongly, but would have a negligible impact on iron ion levels.  My preliminary results are surprising.  Average pH increase was more modest than expected: it changed from 4.40 before treatment to 5.56 after, for an average change of 1.16.  Average reduction in iron ion presence was more pronounced than expected:  rankings changed from 1.7 before treatment to 0.4 after, for an average change of -1.3.  Not only does the after-treatment paper remain surprisingly acidic, but it also shows a surprisingly marked reduction in iron ions given that chelation was not pursued. 

These results are very informal, and testing continues monthly.  Myriad explanations can be imagined, not least including inaccuracies inherent in surface pH measurements.  (The unsuitability of destructive sampling is a frequent challenge in conservation research.)  Perhaps additional baths are needed to improve pH.  Perhaps without chelation, the iron ions become more diffuse during washing, creating risks less localized but more pervasive.  I’d be very curious to hear other conservators’ thoughts and interpretations as I consider future washing, deacidification, and chelation treatments.

Microphotography and Fiber Assessment

I recently had occasion to test the mettle of our microscope equipment here in the lab, and I’m pleased to say it rose to the challenge.  Sarah Sokolow, a graduate student at the University of Texas School of Information, asked if we could take some microphotographs of the silk textile in a wedding dress held in TSLAC’s collections.  Sarah explains a bit more about her project:

This semester I am conducting a preservation needs assessment of particular historical artifacts from the collections at TSLAC. The historical artifacts that I am focusing on are costumes and accessories that belonged to Lucadia Pease (wife of former Texas Governor Elisha M. Pease) and Mirabeau Lamar. In this assessment I am focusing on the current condition of the artifacts and methods to improve this condition with recommendations for better storage. Also, I am researching different methods to exhibit these artifacts where they will not be harmed in the exhibition process.

The lab’s microphotography capabilities have been used only sparingly, so this project yielded an excellent opportunity to experiment with them.  At first, I anticipated using the microscope on its boom stand to photograph the textile in situ.  I sent Sarah the following test shot:

Textile Photo Test

Textile photo test with ambient light.

Sarah replied in that she actually needed a higher level of magnification in order to compare our photos with those in the Fiber Reference Image Library (FRIL) maintained by Ohio State University.  With that reference, I realized we were seeking microphotography on the level of individual fibers.  This led to an entirely different strategy.

Microphotography for fiber analysis requires making a slide from several small fibers and examining that slide with transmitted light, rather than simply the ambient light in the room (as in the photo above.)  I moved the microscope back to its transmitted light stand and prepared to make a slide.  When Sarah arrived, we removed a small, loose thread from the dress (approximately 5 mm long,) teased apart its fibers, and enclosed them between a microscope slide and cover with water.  The resulting images are detailed enough for comparison with similar silk fibers in the FRIL.

Silk Fibers 1

Silk fibers viewed with transmitted light.

 

Silk Fibers 2

Silk fibers viewed with transmitted light.

 

Such close examination of individual fibers can help conservators identify the fibers’ type and origin.  Sarah hopes our photos, in comparison with those in the FRIL, will help her characterize the dress’ condition in order to make future storage recommendations.  We look forward to her report and hope the conservation lab can continue to provide technical support for future research projects. 

 

 

 

 

Sam Houston, Andrew Jackson, and Thomas Jefferson

One of the most enjoyable things about conservation is the unpredictability and variety of the work.  Today, I’d like to paint a brief portrait of one especially interesting piece of correspondence I recently treated.

Houston Introduction Letter Before Treatment

Sam Houston Introduction Letter - address information visible in upper left.

This 1823 letter is Andrew Jackson’s introduction of Sam Houston to Thomas Jefferson.  My work on the letter coincided with reading H.W. Brands’ Lone Star Nation, an engaging refresher on Texas history even for those who had it drilled into us as schoolchildren.  The timing couldn’t have been better, because Brands’ book puts a very human face on the friendship and mentorship between Jackson and Houston.

Young Houston first met General Jackson while serving under his command in the War of 1812.  Houston followed Jackson into Tennessee politics, becoming a congressman from 1823 – 1827, and governor from 1827 – 1829.  After resigning his governorship when his marriage crumbled in 1829, Houston eventually began his life anew in Texas.  Jackson continued to support him, especially regarding possible US annexation of the region.

Thus this 1823 letter coincides with the 30-year-old Houston’s election to the House of Representatives, a time in which a newly-minted congressman would have eagerly sought new introductions to influential people.  It’s no wonder that Jackson, himself bound for the presidency from 1829 – 1837, would have helped his protégé enter Washington life.  The introduction was timely; Jefferson, already an 80-year-old man in 1823, died in 1826.

The Houston Introduction Letter had some unusual condition issues when it appeared in the lab.  At some point in the past, the letter had been cut into 15 separate pieces, primarily along pre-existing fold lines.  These sections had then been adhered to thin pieces of silk, as was a past preservation practice.  Strangely, small gaps had been left inbetween the cut sections, leaving a grid-like appearance.  Investigation revealed the lining had been adhered with a combination of water-soluble paste and non-archival white glue, much like commercially marketed Elmer’s (see previous entry, “Problem Solving in Paper Conservation.”)

Sam Houston Introduction Letter Before Treatment

Transmitted light shows gaps between cut sections.

It’s impossible to say where, when, or why these previous steps were taken.  They might have happened even before our institution acquired the document.  However, they highlight the importance of reversibility, a central tenet of modern conservation practice.  Because of items like the Houston Introduction Letter, we know that current practice may not remain best practice forever, and we strive to learn from these past mistakes.  Accordingly, ethical conservation treatments comprise changes that can be undone in order to minimize their permanent impact on historical items.
 
Sam Houston Introduction Letter During Treatment

Mending cut pieces together after removing silk lining.

During treatment, I removed the silk lining, de-acidified the paper, and mended the pieces back together, closing the distracting gaps.  Age and wear have rendered those gaps still partially visible, but overall the treatment improved legibility and reduced visual disturbance.  And, if a future custodian finds that those cuts were historically important (for example, if Jackson had made the cuts himself,) my mends can be reversed and the letter returned to pieces.

Sam Houston Introduction Letter After Treatment

After treatment, the gaps have been closed as possible.

Here’s to a long life for this document of a fascinating confluence of people.

Problem Solving in Paper Conservation

When I talk to new acquaintances about conservation, I receive an alarming number of immediate comparisons with the National Treasure films, capers that blend American history, conspiracy theories, and Hollywood glitter.  I assure these acquaintances and all current readers that these movies have very little in common with the field of conservation.  But in the spirit of adventure films, I’ll begin today’s post with a quote from the fictional, swashbuckling archaeologist Indiana Jones:

“Snakes.  I hate snakes.”

Why start here?  Because Jones’ longstanding antipathy toward his slithering nemeses parallels my professional feelings about an increasingly common foe: the white glue commercially known as Elmer’s.

For repair purposes, archives typically use water-soluble, reversible adhesives like wheat starch paste.  These adhesives are ideal because they allow previous repairs to be undone when needed, such as removing a silk lining from a paper document.  Reversibility is a central concept in modern conservation, but this wasn’t always the case.  Items that were repaired many years ago, or were repaired by dealers or collectors, were often subjected to whatever materials were on hand.

Lately, I’ve encountered a number of documents lined with silk and a combination of paste and white glue.  At first glance, these documents give no cause for alarm.  But once placed in a bath, the linings remain stubbornly adhered in tiny spots all over the document.  Closer examination then reveals small, milky-white spots of glue, swelled by the water, but not fully reversed.

What’s a conservator to do?  Simply put, get creative and use chemistry.  We know that Elmer’s glue, and white glue in general, is much like the common bookbinding adhesive PVA.  And we know that a Teas chart is a tool that maps various solvents according to their solubility parameters.  Let’s find a Teas chart for PVA, and then, through careful testing, let’s see if any of the solvents effective on PVA will work on our white glue.  Bingo: ethyl acetate.

Ethyl acetate seems to work best when the white glue has already been swelled with water.  It evaporates quickly, so it requires quick, localized work.  But I’ve found it to be quite helpful in removing linings and reducing residual adhesive afterwards.  Treated items receive a final water bath to flush any remaining solvent.  I’d be very curious to hear from other paper conservators any experiences, thoughts, or concerns about using ethyl acetate in this way.

One last personal observation on white glue: it only seems to appear on high-profile treatments involving especially famous or valuable items.  And it appears on these items more regularly than even Murphy’s Law would dictate.  My theory is that these highly valued items have been highly valued for many years, and as a result, their past treatments were probably designed to be extra strong.  If someone incorrectly thought that a water-soluble adhesive might be a weak adhesive, then perhaps that person might have added some white glue to their paste for good measure.

Or perhaps I just have bad luck. I’ll watch out for snakes.