art conservation and restoration

art conservation and restoration, any attempt to conserve and repair architecture, paintings, drawings, prints, sculptures, and objects of the decorative arts (furniture, glassware, metalware, textiles, ceramics, and so on) that have been adversely affected by negligence, willful damage, or, more usually, the inevitable decay caused by the effects of time and human use on the materials of which they are made.

The term art conservation denotes the maintenance and preservation of works of art and their protection from future damage and deterioration. Art restoration, by contrast, denotes the repair or renovation of artworks that have already sustained injury or decay and the attempted restoration of such objects to something approaching their original undamaged appearance. The techniques and methods of art conservation and restoration go hand in hand and became the province of trained professionals in the 20th century. They have become an increasingly important aspect of the work not only of museums but also of civic authorities and all those concerned with works of art, whether artists, collectors, or gallerygoers. The methods of art restoration used in earlier periods were closely linked to and limited by the art production techniques known at the time. Advances in science and technology and the development of conservation as a profession in the 20th century have led to safer and more effective approaches to studying, preserving, and repairing objects. Modern conservation practice adheres to the principle of reversibility, which dictates that treatments should not cause permanent alteration to the object. Art conservation has become an important tool of research; it is standard practice among professional conservators to document treatments with photographs and written reports.

(Read Martin Scorsese’s Britannica essay on film preservation.)

Architecture

The conservation and restoration of older architecture is an increasing modern preoccupation. The earliest buildings to have survived generally tend to be those that received religious veneration. When these structures were no longer venerated, they disappeared like other buildings. It was not until the early 19th century that the Forum of ancient Rome was uncovered and explored.

Medieval builders treated the work of their forebears with a healthy lack of awe. Every new Gothic chapel or chantry and virtually every stage in the development of a single Gothic cathedral followed the style of its own day. With the Renaissance in Europe grew a new respect for classical antiquity and a new interest in its architectural forms. By the end of the 18th century a knowledge of archaeology had become an accepted accomplishment of the educated man. Architectural design itself became a matter of “correctness.” Old buildings everywhere began to be “restored” to the style of periods especially favoured. The French architect and writer E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc brilliantly restored the Sainte-Chapelle (1840–67) and the cathedral of Notre-Dame de Paris (1845–64). The ancient walls of Carcassonne in France and of Windsor Castle in England were not only repaired but also largely rebuilt.

With the spread of the Industrial Revolution and the increasing reliance on mechanical processes, the labour of hands became more costly, and the value of craftsmanship gained a new significance. Old buildings, which often exhibited the personal touches of master craftsmen, began to command a new respect, and the English art critic John Ruskin (1819–1900) was even able to assert that “the greatest glory of a building is its age.” In 1877 the pioneers of the conservation movement, led by the English artist and writer William Morris (1834–96), founded the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings (SPAB). Nicknamed Anti-Scrape, the society vehemently opposed the indiscriminate refacing of old stonework and the “conjectural restorations” still so fashionable, such as the new west front of St. Albans Cathedral in England (1880–83). The movement gathered force, and in the 20th century groups throughout the world devoted their efforts to architectural conservation.

An added local impetus has been given by national pride; in countries such as Poland, postwar reconstruction became the symbol of national resurgence. Almost every country is increasingly conscious of its heritage of ancient buildings, while cultural bodies such as the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) have lent to the conservation movement a powerful international impetus.

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Effects of economic and social change

The development of architecture can be read as a sensitive index of social change. The economic climate and social preoccupations of each age have combined to generate its own architecture and its own towns. Almost every decade of new building displays its own peculiar characteristics and modifies by constant adaptation the buildings and towns of yesterday. But the urban environment is society’s investment in its future, and the cycle of renewal is continuous, if often slow. Thus, the problems of building maintenance and renewal are complicated by long-term economic and social change.

Today the most marked trends are still those that brought about the conservation movement itself. First is the accelerated pace of physical growth. Old buildings have become not only relatively rare but often virtually irreplaceable in terms of labour and craftsmanship and sometimes of materials. In many cases, old buildings give to a locality much of its special character and identity, as, for example, in those English country villages where thatched roofs still predominate. Another and rarer asset is a sheer and intrinsic merit of architectural form. And alongside all these is the tangible evidence that any old building provides for its community a kind of social and environmental continuity—a reassuring reference point in a constantly changing world.

Under the increasing pressure of the world’s growing population, the value of urban land continues to climb steeply, with some curious effects on the fate of old buildings. Increased demand brings increased land values and, at first, better prospects for the repair and maintenance of old buildings. But as land values rise higher, the older building must also justify itself in terms of economic efficiency. All over the world, the town houses of the 19th century and earlier serve with varied grace in the 20th century as centres of modern industry and commerce. Their fabric is subjected to new strains, and their room shapes and capacity may become incompatible with new and changed demands. There comes a point at which the old building on a valuable urban site can compete no longer with the pressure for redevelopment. Then it is quickly overtaken, and financial subsidy is powerless to protect it from demolition. The old building in a deteriorating neighbourhood is at the same time likely to be in no better a situation. Its maintenance may become no longer economically worthwhile, condemning it to early death by neglect. The destructive effects of both over- and undervalue are clearly displayed side by side in a fine Georgian city such as Dublin or in once-distinguished neighbourhoods such as Bloomsbury in London or the Marais in Paris. The most successful neighbourhood conservation occurs where values have been held in pace with the architectural capacity of a community, as at Bath in England or in the Georgetown section of Washington, D.C.

Another social change is the rapid increase in mobility. The automobile brought better roads and an incentive to use them. Old city centres, after centuries of essentially domestic life, began to be abandoned in favour of ring upon ring of suburbs. This peripheral accretion of cities is allied with their central decay as communities. As a universal result, the twice-daily thrombosis of the highways urges on a constant process of road widening, in which many an intervening historic area has been completely eroded away.