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Bronze Conservation in Montpelier

November 4, 2019 by Bob Hannum 2 Comments

First Governor of Vermont

'Thomas Chittenden' is a life-size, dark brown patina, bronze statue located outside the west wing of the Vermont State House in Montpelier, Vermont.

Vermont State House
Vermont State House with red circle indicating location of Thomas Chittenden bronze sculpture

It was created by renowned sculptor Frank Chalfant Gaylord II (1925 - 2018) of Barre, Vermont. Gaylord is best known for the Korean War Memorial in Washington, DC. 'Thomas Chittenden' was dedicated on 6/18/99.

 

Chittenden (1/6/1730 - 8/25/97) was a major figure in the early history of Vermont as the first leader of the territory for nearly two decades.

Condition

This sculpture sits upon a granite pedestal. The sculpture and pedestal are in excellent condition with only minor oxidation on the bronze - two small patches of blue-green - indicating a pinhole size pit or hairline crack in the patina where air has seeped through and oxidized the underlying bronze.

There is a light green tinge over the entire surface of the sculpture. It is mild copper oxidation, typical of outdoor sculpture that has not received a periodic protective coating.

Restoration

Why coat bronze at all? After all, it's a very durable metal.

The importance of coating bronze or any metal sculpture is to protect against conditions that can harm the metal surface, especially bird droppings, coastal salt air, and acid rain.

First, I cleaned the surface by removing all dirt and oxidation with a mild soap and distilled water. I use Orvus which is a very mild detergent and biodegradable. Traditionally used to clean horses, Orvus is pH neutral and recommended by art conservators.

Orvus

Next I prepared for coating the sculpture by covered the granite pedestal and surrounding landscaping with protective plastic. The coating is solvent based so it will discolor the granite and damage plant life. I applied the coating with a horsehair brush since the polymer dissolves plastic brush bristles.

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I use a product known as Everbrite. It has been used to coat outdoor metal sculpture for over 30 years. It far exceeds the protective properties of wax, lasting as long as 10 years. It is removeable with solvent, but unlike wax there is no need to remove past coats. Additional coats can be applied right over previous ones.

It comes in clear, matte, and satin finish, and the manufacturer will create custom mixes if you need to match surfaces more precisely.

This product is easy to apply needing no special skills or expensive conservators.

Everbrite bronze coating

I applied 2 coats. It dried within an hour. I'll check on it yearly for five years at no extra charge as part of my guarantee.

Filed Under: Conservation, Restoration Tagged With: Arts Management Services LLC, Bronze sculpture, Everbrite, Frank Gaylord II, Robert Hannum, Sculpture Conservation, Thomas Chittenden

Bronze Conservation in Havana

March 2, 2019 by Bob Hannum 2 Comments

Bronze American Eagle in Havana

My trip to Havana was the most fascinating to date! I was sent by the Cultural Heritage Office of our State Dept to wax a large bronze eagle with an amazing history. I was there for just a week, and it was the most alien place I've ever visited!

Cars in Havana Cuba

The roads are dominated by cars from the '50's and 60's, and most looking like new! The people are genuinely kind and friendly even to Americans and even though the Cuban economy must be very difficult to live in!

Though Cuban citizens have free education, medical care and retirement with no visible poverty, drug problem or prostitution, the $35 per month salary lasts about half the month. Everyone gets the same pay whether you're a neurosurgeon or a hotel housekeeper. What makes it work is a robust black market and 'remittances.'

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Here's how it works as told to me by a local resident. She works at the local water department. Each week she brings home a 5-gallon jug of spring water. It's not considered stealing but it is controlled - she can't take more. Her neighbor works at the local bakery and likewise brings home several loaves of bread at the end of his work week. Other neighbors have other items. Each neighbor knows who has what, and so they all barter their goods and services.

Remittances refers to money that US and other foreign relatives send to their families in Cuba each month supplementing nearly every Cuban household with an extra hundred dollars or two. This seems to make ends meet and people seem genuinely unstressed about it, though I noticed a lack of efficiency at the airport as my colleague and I waited an hour for our bags. Fascinating.

Equally fascinating is the story of the bronze eagle I went to work on.

The story begins in 1898 when the USS Maine, an American naval ship, exploded and sank in Havana Harbor. The event led to the Spanish-American War and the end of Spanish rule in Cuba. "Remember the Maine' became a famous battle cry.

USS Maine

USS Maine in Havana Harbor

The explosion killed 260 of the Maine's 400 sailors. What caused the explosion remains a mystery. Some say the ship hit a Spanish mine. Others say Cubans did it to draw the US into helping them expel their Spanish occupiers. Others maintain that powerful US business interests had a hand in it, to open up the island to business development. Still others say the munitions in the ship accidentally exploded.

The war lasted 4 months resulting in Cuban independence.

A grateful Cuban government commissioned a monument to honor those who died in the explosion. It was dedicated in 1926 and located on the harbor. Within a few months a hurricane blew the bronze eagle off the top. It fell to the ground and broke apart. A new bronze eagle was commissioned with a more aerodynamic design - upraised wings instead of flat - to withstand future storms.

Maine monument with original eagle

Monument with the original bronze eagle - note the flat outstretched wings.

 

Maine Monument

Second eagle - note the different wing design

The original eagle disappeared.

In 1959, the Cuban Revolution led by Fidel Castro, ousted the authoritarian government of Batista and US supporters and business interests. The second eagle was torn down from the top of the monument in 1961 around the time of the Bay of Pigs invasion. The body and wings are displayed in the Havana City History Museum. The museum exhibit and empty monument stand today as symbols of Cuba's resistance to 'American Imperialism.' Interestingly, the head was somehow acquired by the Swiss government which was appointed the caretaker of the US Embassy and ambassador's residence when the US was ousted by Castro. The Swiss presented the bronze eagle head to the returning US Ambassador when relations warmed in 2014. It is now displayed in the US Embassy in Havana.

Maine Monument on Havana Harbor

The monument as it appears today

Meanwhile, the first eagle mysteriously reappeared!

In 1954 it was presented to the US Ambassador in Havana by a group of Cuban and American business people "...who saw in its indestructibility a symbol of the enduring friendship between their countries." Then in 2011, the US State Department commissioned Milner + Carr Conservation, LLC of Philadelphia - now Materials Conservation Collaborative - to repair the original cracks caused by its hurricane tumble in 1926. It is now displayed in the back yard of the ambassador's residence.

Waxing a bronze sculpture

Havana Eagle Signage

I was asked to inspect the conservation work and do a thorough waxing. It's in good condition with some rusting underneath the feet of the eagle. I used butcher paste wax since the preferred product, carnauba wax, is not available in Havana and difficult to ship. Cleaning and waxing took 1 long day. I'll be back in the near future to coat it with the longer-lasting Everbrite polymer I'm now using on all our outdoor metal sculptures.

I'd like to call your attention to a fascinating response from a reader. Well, not just any reader! Her father was the US Ambassador to Cuba (Ambassador Willard L. Beaulac) from 1951 to 1953. Ms. Beaulac Zachor shares wonderful memories of Havana. I quote her generous comments with her gracious permission. A truly wonderful read!

September 23, 2018

As described by Mr. Hannum, this bronze eagle was blown off his perch on top of the Maine monument in the 1920s. He was already installed in the US embassy residence garden when my father was US ambassador to Cuba from 1951 to 1953 (regardless of the date on that plaque). The tale told in Havana during those years, was that when the eagle was blown off the monument he landed on the ground facing north, sending the world a signal that he wished to travel to the US. In deference to the eagle's wishes, he was taken to the US embassy residence garden which, under international law, is considered to be US territory. I loved that version of how our eagle came to guard our garden.

The lovely bronze statue was snuggled up against a back wall of the residence and surrounded by enough greenery as to render the small area around him a private, shady spot where I sometimes sat for hours, enjoying the most pleasant reading experiences of my 80 years. From the photos above I can see that he's been moved from that leafy and cozy location to an open, sunny spot of clipped hedges and hard-surfaced paths.

When next we have a US ambassador with children living at our residence in Havana, I hope the children will enjoy the presence of this beautiful bird in their garden as much as I did.

Thank you, Bob Hannum, for giving our dear eagle the care that is needed to preserve his splendid appearance, and for writing this article.
Joan Beaulac Zachor

October 2, 2018

Dear Ms. Beaulac Zachor,

Thank you immensely for sharing your recollections on my website. Beautifully told. Please please tell me more and may I add your words to my article? May I mention your name? I will not reveal where you live, for your security and privacy.

I would just love to hear more about your recollections of Havana and of your father's work there. Do you retain any connections to Cuba after all this time? Have you ever returned?

Interestingly, I was so taken by the beauty of the residence and the grounds and the kindness of the local people who take great pride in caring for it, that I asked to stay there instead of a hotel next time I return and to my surprise and delight that was approved. But alas it will be a while before I get back given our present administration and the alarming sonic experiences of several American visitors and employees last fall.

The local people that I met were just wonderful to me - I was very surprised. As a contractor for the State Dept I am briefed before traveling to difficult places. So I went to Havana full of warnings and cautionary tales as you can imagine. But my experience was nothing but warm and friendly and safe.

I was fascinated by the day-to-day economics of barter and remittances and store shelves stocked with only a few items at a time. The strangest part of it is that it all seemed to work! People did not seem unhappy in general unless I was misreading.

So please take a moment when you can to share more of anything you remember about that time.

All the best,

Bob

October 9. 2018

American Eagle in CubaDear Mr. Hannum,
Thank you for your kind words about my note. I so enjoyed your article about attending to our beautiful eagle at the embassy and happy that you included a photo of him on the monument to the Maine, his first perch in Havana. I would be flattered if you added what I wrote in response. I've attached a few words here about my Havana of 65 years ago. I haven't returned for a visit but I would love to.I agree that our residence and gardens in Havana are beautiful. I don't suppose I have much to add about the residence that might interest you. But I can tell a little about living there, from a young girl's perspective, that you might enjoy.

Like most of the grand houses in Country Club Park the residence had (almost) no air conditioning in the early fifties when we lived there. Its thick walls of Jaimanita stone and deep porches kept it well protected from the tropical sun, and its great tall windows and doors allowed the breezes through when opened. At some time air conditioning had been added to some of the larger upstairs rooms. My mother turned hers on from time to time and put on a sweater but it looked a little silly.

My sister, Noël, and I would catch little drifts of music at night through our open bedroom windows from an area with lively nightlife a mile or two away that would have been fun to visit. But young daughters of diplomats didn't. Some nights I'd curl up on a couch in the first floor library (my favorite room with shelves and shelves of books) and nudge the needle back and forth across the dial of our Grundig radio catching bits of news or music from Miami. We'd not been able to tune in to US stations from Paraguay or Colombia where we'd lived before, and now in Havana, it was a happy treat when a station came through for long enough to play an entire song. I fell in love with the voice of Nat King Cole.

A wide hallway with cork flooring ran the length of the upstairs. It muffled the sound of our footsteps when we wore shoes and felt lovely -- almost cozy--under our bare feet. At one end of the hallway, near my mother's room, was an elevator and at the other end was a suite that we called "the presidential suite." The story told was that the elevator was included when the residence was constructed in 1941 with the expectation that President Roosevelt would be visiting from time to time. And the presidential suite had been tailored to accommodate his wheelchair. President Roosevelt died four years after the residence was completed and never did visit there, but our house guests enjoyed hearing that they were staying in his suite. Unhappily for my mother, my sister and I used to tease her by forcing open the outer doors of the president's elevator trapping her between floors. She bore it well.

Havana is in the tropics and there were a good number of bugs inside the house and outside. I visited the principal kitchen only twice. By day it was a lovely, busy space with Chef Sylvester reigning over his space in a marvelous hat that had to be a foot tall, while his second in command, Luís, in a less imposing hat, attended to beautiful vegetables laid out on large tables. A couple others who might have been staff or grocers looked quite pleased to be doing whatever it was they were doing, and curious to know why we were there. The second time I visited the kitchen was at night. Dark shiny creatures scurried across the floor when we turned on the lights, and disappeared into cracks and small spaces. The huge refrigerators were secured with padlocks so that enjoying a bit of ice cream or leftover soufflé at bedtime was an impossible dream.

Across the hallway from our bedroom (I shared a bedroom with Noël) was a wide open room, and broad balcony overlooking the simplest and prettiest part of the garden. This room was where we ate our breakfast. Our orange juice most often arrived from the kitchen with a barely visible number of minuscule ants trailing up the side of the glass and a few floating inside. It was nearly impossible to scoop them out. They were so, so very small that we simply drank our juice, tiny floating beings and all. Sometimes at night, my sister and I would turn on the lights in the pool and go swimming. We'd run on tiptoes down the path from the house trying to avoid the creatures that gathered on the warm surface after sundown. Occasionally a scorpion, but always tarantulas would fall into the pool at night, and they'd end up trapped in the gutter that ran around the edge of the pool. We'd grab onto the gutter after swimming across the pool or swimming underwater, but never were bitten.

At the rear of the property, behind a wall of tall hedge, was a good-sized kitchen garden where there was always something one could pick from a tree or bush or pull from the ground to nibble on, even if it was just a green onion. Our avocado trees were too beautiful to conceal behind a hedge and were planted in the landscaped portion of the garden. At Christmas the household servants would dig a pit in a corner of the kitchen garden and take most of a day to roast an entire pig there. Our family didn't join in the pig roast but my parents engaged in gift-giving for the household and their children each year, at a gathering inside, around our Christmas tree.

Country Club Park was at a higher elevation than its surrounding neighborhoods. On Sunday mornings the family attended mass in a small church at the bottom of the hill, and we'd ride down in our family-owned non-limousine with my father at the wheel. He was a terrible driver and my mother would come close to hysterics as he hurtled toward a tiny, single-lane bridge near the bottom of the hill. He'd still be chuckling as he parked our '52 Buick Dynaflow and got out. Inside, on summery mornings, the church felt quite pleasant as everyone settled into their pews. Then the air would get warmer while the church got fuller, the men's guayaberas would wilt damply, and the señoras would fan themselves vigorously. The sound of the fans striking their bosoms was quite wonderful.

My siblings and I attended Ruston Academy, a school that offered a choice of programs in English or Spanish, geared to those students who would be attending college in the US and those who would attend university in Cuba. The English classes were housed in a wonderful, slightly worn colonial building with two somewhat weathered courtyards and a long, open porch along one side of the building where we sat at long tables for lunch and study hall periods.  School dances took place in the larger courtyard, and chairs were set up along the perimeter for the Cuban chaperones who sat fanning themselves all evening while watching us dance with an eagle eye. The smaller courtyard had a fountain and a coin-operated coke machine. My sister and I had seen our first coin-operated coke machine on a dock in New York city when we'd arrived there by ship three years earlier, when a very ugly revolution had broken out in Colombia, and I was delighted that we had a machine just like it at school. I loved those ice-cold cokes in their thick glass bottles. (Yes, I'm that old.)

One morning during out first year in Havana, we learned at breakfast that Radio Reloj (a radio station that seemed always to be broadcasting the latest news and time of day somewhere in the back rooms of the residence) had reported that a revolution had occurred just before dawn. Cuba's new president, Fulgencio Batista, had seized power without anyone firing a shot. Batista was already a candidate in the upcoming presidential election, but he was expected to lose. He chose not to wait for the people's vote. Rumour had it that Batista woke the highest fellow in the military holding a gun to his head and demanded "Who is your generalísimo?" and the frightened fellow, still in pajamas, replied, "You are, my general." And so the matter was settled. The newly ex-president, Carlos Prío Socarrás, was escorted to Miami a few days later. I don't know if that's exactly the way Batista pulled it off, but as revolutions go, it was a pretty boring coup. Rubén "Papo" Batista, son of the new president, didn't learn that his father was president (second or third time around, depending on how you count Batista's terms in power) until he heard it at Ruston later that morning.

In 1960, a year after Castro's revolution, Dr. James Baker, headmaster of Ruston Academy in Havana, joined with Monsignor Bryan Walsh in Miami in hatching "Operation Peter Pan," a secret plan that assisted over 14,000 unaccompanied children to flee Cuba. Castro's revolutionary government had announced that the state would take legal control of children over the age of three for purposes of education and indoctrination and many parents who couldn't leave Cuba, themselves, were frantic to get their children off the island. Dr. Baker delivered special visas and sometimes forged documents to families and helped them ship their children to Miami. Most of the Pedro Pan children were eventually reunited with their parents in the United States, but some parents never were able to leave Cuba. The Operation Pedro Pan Group maintains a database and network where Peter Pan adults are able to stay in touch and leave messages to others in their group or with family members. There is a description of Operation Peter Pan at Pedro_Pan_1960

I was happy to have a brief correspondence with Jim Baker in his later years. Although the Castro government had closed his beloved school in 1961, he wrote to me in 1999, that he was still planning for "a new Ruston Academy in the post-Castro era that will build a new, more democratic Cuba." Jim was 92 years old at the time. His son, Chris, created a website for our Ruston Academy family, many of whom have kept in touch with each other, and a Ruston reunion, here in the US, is still held every few years.

Although Batista's revolution of 1952 was less than exciting in my 13-year-old opinion, and although my sister and I were forbidden to attend Havana's famous casinos and night clubs, a few experiences stand out in my memory, not as being extraordinary, but as interesting to me at the time: The first was the opening of a Five and Dime store downtown. It had the first escalator in the country, and crowds of enthusiastic people lined up on the first few days to ride on that marvelous moving stairway. People laughed and chatted their way up and down the stairway and I don't think anyone rode it only once. We also attended a performance of Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus when it traveled to Cuba, and I was thrilled to be offered a morsel of bread by Emmett Kelly, a sad-faced clown that my mother had told me was the very best and most original clown in the world with his tragic face and gloomy behavior. I was so taken with his lovely gloominess that I don't remember any of the acts. And we rode the roller coaster on opening day of an amusement park that was reportedly financed by Lucky Luciano (it was no secret that US gangsters financed most of the hotels, clubs, and other entertainment in Havana, including the just opened amusement park). I hadn't ever ridden a roller coaster before, and I was terrified when it began its ascent a second time without allowing its passengers to get off. I was terrified that Mr. Luciano had been careless about the safety of the rides, that the contraption was defective, and that I was going to be killed by a gangster who didn't care who lived or died.

Taking my first sip of banana liqueur in the courtyard of a centuries-old convent, buying coco glacé (coconut ice cream in a coconut shell) on the Malecón, ordering stuffed avocado upstairs at the American Club in Havana's historic section, and eating more than my share of Moro crab claws at cocktail parties at home are my happiest food memories. My nose memories are the smell of leather and alligator hides at the leather shop, the smell of chocolate at the H. Upmann cigar factory where women sat wrapping the very best, supple tobacco leaves around rolls of filler tobacco, and the tiny bottles of French fragrances that my mother bought at the Perfume Factory where sales were transacted in the open under a heavy thatched roof held up, so it seemed, by the tallest, most beautiful Royal Palms I'd ever seen.

A comment on the US Embassy office building downtown. We visited the embassy a number of times when it was being constructed. Each time my father would shake his head and mutter "Dear, dear. Dear, dear." At least half of the outside surface was glass, and when finished would be the most modern building in Havana. The building was nicely situated near the Malecón, Havana's beautiful oceanfront walk. There was a single small balcony, protected by bullet-proof glass, jutting out from my father's office on the fifth floor. Except for my father's exit onto his balcony and the entrances on the first floor, the building was enclosed by windows that were sealed shut, and the sun shone through those windows all day. Once the offices were occupied, the air conditioning wasn't able to keep up with all that tropical sunshine. The building had to be evacuated whenever indoor temperatures became unbearable. The situation would prompt my father to mutter, "Those damned New York architects. Did they even visit Cuba?"

You asked about my father's work. I imagine my father's efforts in Cuba were largely directed at working with whomever was president or dictator to maintain a political climate that was stable and favorable to the operation of US owned businesses, and to trade, and to travel between the two countries. US investments and profits in Cuba were important to both, involving sugar production, manufacturing, transportation, communications, hotels, and entertainment. The only conversation I ever had with my father about Cuba's politics and his role there, was my naive complaint that our government recognized Batista's government too quickly after his illegitimate ascent to power. Of course my father was simply following instructions to protect US interests, and the decision to recognize Batista's coup would not have been his to make, anyway.

My father used to say that both parties should come away from a negotiation feeling that they have achieved some measure of success. I include a link to my father's record of a conversation with President Prío Socarás a few months after we arrived in Havana. It might give you an idea of how he worked. Amb. Beaulac - Pres. Prío Socarás

I've enjoyed your accounts of working for the state department repairing and restoring sculptures and other artwork around the world. What an interesting time you've had! If you do return to Havana and stay at the residence, I hope you'll take some photos to share, and give my eagle a hug from an old friend.

My name is Joan Beaulac Zachor, and my sister to whom I refer is Noël Beaulac Peters. I wrote this recollection for her as well as for you. (I have another sister and a brother who are much younger and have their own memories of countries where my father served later on).

April 1, 2019

Dear Ms. Zachor,
I finally updated my story of the Havana eagle with all your wonderful recollections. Just want to thank you again for so generously sharing these wonderful memories. I too was struck by the tarantulas and lucky for us both, only visually!

So should any more memories arise or if you come across any photos, please please once again consider sharing them with me!

All the best,
Bob

April 3, 2019

Dear Mr. Hannum,
I've enjoyed corresponding with you. I hope you get back to Havana and have a lovely stay at the embassy residence. If, when you step out of the elevator, on the second floor you turn left and walk midway down the hall, the room on the left was my bedroom. If you continue to the end of the formal section of the hallway and then left again into your rooms,
you'll be in what we called the presidential suite. I hope you have a lovely time there.  Before you leave, please give my eagle a loving pat on one of his broad wings, and whisper to him that I remember him well, and the happy hours that I spent reading in our leafy nook.

I hope you continue with your interesting work for many more years.

Kindest regards,,
Joan Zachor

Filed Under: Conservation, Restoration Tagged With: Ambassador Willard L. Beaulac, Art Conservation, Arts Management Services LLC, Bay of Pigs, Bronze sculpture, Joan Beaulac Zachor, Office of Cultural Heritage, Robert Hannum, USS Maine

Bronze Conservation in Athens

January 20, 2018 by Bob Hannum Leave a Comment

George Marshall in Athens, Greece

George Marshall Bronze Sculpture

Bronze Conservation Project

I left my wife and grandchildren in the record cold of 29 degrees below zero in my hometown of Montpelier, Vermont and headed off to a balmy 70 degrees in Athens, Greece. This was my latest assignment for the Office of Cultural Heritage (CH) of our State Department.

The Office of Cultural Heritage

CH is a small team of talented art conservators who take care of all the art, antiques, and historic structures among all the properties owned by the US government overseas, including most importantly, our embassies and ambassadors' residences.

CH has been one of my clients for a number of years. This past year they asked me to join them full-time, and it's been a wonderful ride with a new travel adventure nearly every month. This trip involved a 10' bronze sculpture of George Marshall standing in front of our embassy in Athens.

Sculpture Repair by Arts Management ServicesAbout the Sculpture

Bronze is a marvelous metal. It's a very durable mix of copper and tin (brass is copper and zinc) which first appearing over 5000 years ago in the western Asian civilization of Sumeria. It's believed that bronze was discovered when copper and tin-rich rocks were used for campfire rings. Bronze tools, weapons, armor, and building materials soon proliferated because they were harder and more durable than their stone and copper predecessors. Bronze so transformed the world that we call its first 1700 years the 'Bronze Age.'

Add 'patina' and a bronze sculpture is virtually indestructible. And here's where I get to show off. You see, the word patina is often misused even by experts. Here's a real know-it-all, Dr. Lori Verderame, to set us straight.

"Patina is a process which relates to the application of color or pigment onto a work of cast metal sculpture. The patination process occurs at a cast metal foundry whereby pigment is applied to a metal sculpture to enhance the look of the metal....Patination is applied to a surface, it is NOT a result of the aging process which occurs over time...."

There you go! Now you're smarter than Wikipedia and anyone else who thinks patina is oxidation such as when copper turns green. The green on copper is strictly speaking not patina.

Sculpture Repair by Bob HannumThe Conservation Project

The interesting thing about patina is that it was invented to stop bronze sculpture from oxidation, or as us common people like to say, rust! Like paint, patina does a great job protecting metal sculpture, but it doesn't completely stop rust. The other interesting thing about patina is that it's a nasty chemical that's highly toxic until it dries.

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Sculpture nerds like to put something over patina for added protection. Here's where I come in. Standard maintenance, aka conservation, for bronze sculpture is a coat of natural and durable wax such as carnauba every 6 months. This is false security, because no one really knows just how long wax lasts on outdoor sculpture. I my opinion, wax doesn't even last a month in harsh conditions where protection is most important such as marine environments and acid rain.

Bronze Sculpture at the US Ambassador's Residence in Oslo NorwayEverBrite

Thanks to the folks over at Everbrite, we now have a better way to protect outdoor metal sculpture. It's a thin polymer that protects metal surfaces from oxidation and lasts 5-10 years.

In the world of uppity art conservation, you just can't throw out traditional ways of doing things, like wax, unless the alternative is tested over time, a long time. Everbrite has been around for 30 years. It's entirely reversible, another conservation requirement. And, a shout-out to Jenn from the Everbrite company who can ship this HAZMAT material anywhere in the world!

Further Details

Using Everbrite's satin finish, my company, Arts Management Services LLC, is slowly but surely coating all the outdoor metal sculptures at our embassies and ambassadors' residences. Easy to apply after a quick cleaning with a solvent, Everbrite is ready for a second coat in just 1 hour, completely drying in 48 hours.

The only problem with this product is a minor one. Sometimes a dark bronze sculpture has a gorgeous green oxidation that you'd like to preserve. Everbrite will turn this bright green into dark green as if it's wet. A good example of this is the sculpture below which is outside the US ambassador's residence in Oslo, Norway. It is entitled 'Spirit of the Dance' by Kaare Kristian Nygaard (1903-1989). Notice the beautiful bright green copper oxidation against the dark patina. This is also a good example of how patina is not the best protection against oxidation. One might not coat this sculpture in order to preserve the bright green color. On the other hand, this sculpture is rusting! I have to weigh beauty against deterioration, so I'm likely to coat this one, too!

Bronze Urn in Tokyo

Here's another example. This is a large bronze vessel in the center of a fountain in the back yard of our ambassador's residence in Tokyo. The stunning green and orange oxidation is so beautiful I'm not going to touch it! And the bronze walls of this object are so thick that even though it is 'rusting' it will last several hundred years.

Here is another bronze sculpture I coated at the Athens Embassy:

Niki

 

 

Filed Under: Conservation, Restoration Tagged With: Arts Management Services LLC, Bronze Sculpture Conservation, Cultural Heritage Office, George Marshall, Robert Hannum

Art Conservation of the Buddha

April 1, 2017 by Bob Hannum

The Buddha in New Jersey

Art Conservation - Fudo Myoh-OhI periodically return to the world headquarters of Becton Dickinson and Company (BD) in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey to clean and repair the world's largest wood sculpture of the Buddha.

Wait a minute...New Jersey? Not somewhere in Asia? What's he doing in New Jersey?

Completed in 1993, this astonishing sculpture was carved by a team of Japanese craftsmen following an age-old Buddhist tradition as a project of the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA). It took over 2 years to complete.

The plaque beside the immense sculpture reads

Yasuhiko Hashimoto, Jinichi Itoh & Isao Yanagimoto, 1990-1993 Alaskan yellow cedar, Japanese lacquer, gold leaf FUDO MYOH-OH (Immovable King of Light).

Created by Japanese artists at the Maryland Institute College of Art, the Fudo represents a fierce and raging manifestation of the Buddha's power against evil. The warrior stands motionless and firm upon a rock ready to protect humans from their greed and negativity.

He appears as he has for hundreds of years, holding a rope in his left hand to symbolize bondage to ego and self-indulgence. In his right hand he holds a sword poised to cut loose those bonds and all other impediments in the way of enlightenment. Ancient interpretations of Fudo Myoh-oh show him as a messenger of the Buddha and as such he is given a boyish body, but because he combats evil and symbolizes the destruction of wickedness, his face is filled with rage.

Traditional Buddhist literature describes him as having bulging eyes and ferocious, protruding teeth. The braid over his left shoulder suggests his servant status. Fudo is also loved for his ability to control disease, subdue enemies, and to assist in the acquisition of wealth and peace.

The sculpture was made according to techniques dating back to the 11th century. It was fabricated with the help of students at the Maryland Institute College of Art and donated to Becton Dickinson by the Institute to insure its preservation as a work of art and as a symbol of friendship and understanding between Japan and the United States.

The Becton Dickinson sculpture is the largest wooden Fudo Myoh-oh in the world. The following images were taken during the 2-year project. The video that follows offers fascinating details of the entire project, who was invilved, the ceremonies, the challenges - a wonderful documentary.

When completed in 1993 MICA sought a permanent location for this giant 2-and-a-half-story sculpture. BD's campus of beautiful award-winning buildings became a perfect home with its large sunlit atriums. The Buddha was placed in one such room at the head of an ornamental pond, providing humidity that helps prevent damage to the wood. A large hole was cut into the side of the building to install the sculpture.

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Art Conservation Techniques

Fudo Myo-o art conservation

My assistant and I spent 2 days removing dust and repairing sections of gold and silver leaf.

We used special brushes made of squirrel hair. Unlike other brush hairs, squirrel has no barbs which is ideal for removing dust without damaging the leaf or lacquer.

Scaffolding was carefully constructed so that no part of it touches the sculpture while allowing close contact with every surface. Gloves are worn at all times so that the corrosive oils in our hands never come in contact with the art.

The scaffolding costs several thousand dollars for our 2 days of use. Luckily, the dust buildup takes about 5 years before it becomes visible and thus requiring our services again.

 

Iconography

Known as Fudō Myō-ō, this is the wrathful Buddha venerated especially by the Shingon sect of Japanese Buddhism.

Fudō converts anger into salvation with a furious face that subdues all impediments to the spiritual goals of wisdom and compassion.

art conservation - buddha in New Jersey

His devil-subduing sword represents wisdom cutting through ignorance. His rope symbolizes several things - catching and binding demon impediments to knowledge as well as the terribly binding and restrictive quality of our egos and ignorance. The third eye in his forehead is all-seeing. He stands upon a rock representing the immovability of faith.

Fudō is also worshiped as a deity who can bring good health and financial success.

Myō-ō is the Japanese term for a group of warlike and wrathful deities known as the Wisdom Kings. All Myō-ō statues appear ferocious and menacing, protecting the teachings, removing all obstacles to understanding, and forcing evil to surrender. Introduced to Japan in the 9th century, the Myō-ō were originally Hindu deities that were adopted into Buddhism. In Japan, among all the different Myō-ō, Fudō is the most widely venerated.

We finished our work, bowed respectfully to Fudo and wished him well until our next scheduled visit, or until his venerable protector, BD's Projects & Facility Services Manager, Tony Albanese, calls again.

New Developments

Recently, a reader contacted me. Peter Wechsler was a student at MICA when this sculpture was created and became a life-long friend of the chief sculptor, Mr. Hashimoto. He kindly shared his fascinating memories.

I met Hashimoto when he worked at MICA. He is from Fukushima, where I also studied temple carpentry. Fortunately, his family was OK after the earthquake, but were probably not too far from the nuclear plant. As I recall, he and two other sculptors, all students of the same teacher, came over to MICA together, but I think Hashimoto stayed the longest. I believe a patron in Japan supplied the money for the project. The sculpture was created using a traditional technique called 'yosegi' or joined wood, gluing together blocks of wood, in this case Alaskan yellow cedar.

They made a model of the sculpture, and sliced it into thin sections, each representing one 2" thick section of the finished sculpture, or whatever the size of the materials they were using. They then glued these together and assembled them. The inside is hollow to save on materials and weight, and to avoid problems with humidity. They then started carving, using all hand tools which took quite a while. Then they painted it and inserted the glass eyes.

The paint is a very durable finish made from the sap of urushi, a relative of poison ivy, so those who use it usually have strong reactions until they develop a tolerance. It also requires humidity to cure. Then they applied the gold leaf.

After it was finished, there was an impressive fire ceremony with a Tendai priest. They also read a poem about Fudo Myo by Gary Snyder that I haven't been able to find. However, I came across an interesting account of hiking in the Japanese mountains in 1969 by him that talks a little about Fudo Myo's position in Japanese Buddhism.

http://www.kyotojournal.org/the-journal/spirit/the-womb-diamond-trail/

I think they assumed that it would be easy to find a home for the statue when it was finished, but was too big for most interior spaces. It couldn't be left outside without a building. We talked about building some sort of building, but it was also probably too religious for most public spaces. It was therefore a big relief when they made contact with the CEO of Becton Dickinson who was interested in Asian art.

They were just building their new headquarters which sounded perfect. I went up there to visit when they installed it. The head and arms were removed and I could see marks where they had dragged it through the hallways. The space seemed perfect with a fountain for humidity and the skylight. I remember talking to one of the guards who said some of them were afraid to go in there at night. He said he went in there once and it was looking down at him with lightning visible through the skylight.

Later [in my career as a carpenter] I went over to Japan and worked on a temple where Hashimoto was creating carvings, and visited him a couple of times at his home in Kyoto. He later moved to Osaka and I visited him when I was there three or four years ago. I definitely recommend getting in touch. His house is a taste of an older Japan, and he would probably be happy to put you up...

Peter

And this from another reader, David Brown.

I was the Director of Exhibitions at MICA from 1989-96. Yashuhiko, the lead, and his two accomplished sculptors had a temporary studio in the parking lot of the old train station which housed among other things, the school's library, the Decker Gallery, and grad and undergrad sculpture studios and classrooms.

Fudo was created in a three story temp studio made out of corrugated metal with large front doors. We checked on the progress almost everyday by looking through the gap in the doors, watching the work slowly come together.

I took the artist James Grashow there to see the work. Grashow was there to help oversee the installation of his giant standing sculpture called 'Building Man' and was so blown away that when I see him today, that's always the first thing he brings up. We envisioned a battle between Building Man and Fudo, knowing full well that we didn't stand a chance! Building Man is a cross between a skyscraper and a business man, complete with Gulliver-like tiny attendants, hanging off the side, washing windows, elevators in the shoes...a nice work for Grashow, who resides in Connecticut.

There was a series of ceremonies that blessed the creation but I can't recall what they were or if I even attended.

I found these two stories online today from the Baltimore Sun that may shed some light:

http://articles.baltimoresun.com/1991-11-07/news/1991311102_1_fudo-sculptors-main-sections

http://articles.baltimoresun.com/1993-03-14/features/1993073140_1_buddha-sculpture-ken-ludwig-maryland-institute

David

Fudo Myo-o 20192019 Journal Article

A contemporary Buddhist statue thought to be the world's largest wooden image of the deity Fudo Myo-O recently passed the 25th year since it was completed and installed in its permanent home on the U.S. East Coast, following a years-long collaboration between a team of Japanese sculptors and the Maryland arts community that embraced the project.

The cedar statue, which stands just over 10 meters tall, depicts "The Immovable King of Light" -- a benevolent but fearsome manifestation of the Buddha who wields a sword, coiled rope and angry scowl against evils such as illusion and ignorance.

Yasuhiko Hashimoto, 64, the sculptor who initiated and led the effort along with colleagues Jinichi Ito and Isao Yanagimoto, said he felt drawn to the project at a time when Japanese culture was not well- known or appreciated in the United States.

"I knew America to be a free and open-minded country, though at the time (in the early 1990s) Americans tended to see Japan as an industrial nation represented by its cars," said Hashimoto, a native of Fukushima Prefecture who lives in Osaka. "Creating a Buddhist statue was a way to help introduce them to the depth of Japan's spiritual culture."

The project, which took place over the course of three years, officially began in the summer of 1990 at the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore. With outside funding including from a Japanese arts patron and local in-kind donations, the sculptors worked in a temporary studio built for the purpose in a campus parking lot to bring the massive 6-ton figure to life.

While not explicitly aiming to create the world's largest statue of its kind, Hashimoto wanted to exceed both the 5-meter Fudo Myo-O the trio had previously made for a temple in Japan's Yamanashi Prefecture as well as the 8-meter historical masterpieces by 12th/13th-century sculptors Unkei and Kaikei, whose realism in depicting Buddhist deities greatly influenced the present Fudo's style.

"The audacity of size is a tremendous statement in this work," said Jane Elkinton, an Asian art specialist who witnessed the sculpture's creation as a professor at the Maryland Institute.

She explained that while "the stance, lay of the drapery with its elegant flutters, and proportions" of the giant work are consistent with Japanese tradition, it also embodies a "humanistic quality" for the sake of Western viewers by changing the customary blue skin to a warmer, human tone and shifting the typically straight-ahead angry glare to a "less confrontational" gaze to the side.

The sculpture team used the "yosegi zukuri" or joined-block technique to assemble the figure from multiple hollow parts, giving students and visitors an understanding of an artistic practice perfected in 11th-century Japan.

"The greatest aspect of the project was the overwhelming generosity on the part of the sculptors," Elkinton said. "Hashimoto inspired everyone who visited his studio with his talent, his ready communication, and his enthusiasm."

From its early stages, the project sparked interest among students who either assisted in the sculpture work or helped spread the word beyond campus. Kerrie Bellisario, a senior at the art school when the project was starting, heard about it through her library job and soon got involved as a liaison for the press and a guide for visiting groups.

"Jinichi Ito taught me basic carving techniques, and with a group of schoolchildren we did some carving on one leg of the Fudo," she recalled. "Seeing the Fudo, carving it, and being introduced to Japanese culture was such an eye-opening experience for the children."

Bellisario went on to visit Japan a number of times while organizing an international art exhibit in Hiroshima, a collaboration with other students from the sculpture project that became an important early step toward her career as a design teacher and international curator.

"If it weren't for the Fudo project which led to the Bridge (program in Hiroshima), I can't imagine what path my life would have taken," she said.

More than a year after getting under way, the team finished its detailed carving work and assembled the unpainted figure at its full height for the first time in 1991.

The lacquering, painting, gold leaf work and other finishing touches were completed after a six- month hiatus, during which arrangements were made to donate the piece to Becton, Dickinson and Company for its headquarters in northern New Jersey, where it still stands today.

Every few years, conservators visit the medical technology company's 140-acre (about 567,000-square-meter) campus to attend to the statue, removing dust with special squirrel-hair brushes and reapplying gold leaf as necessary.

"I'm grateful the piece continues to be cared for so well, and also for the open-mindedness of everyone who embraced the project in the first place," Hashimoto said.

"Although we couldn't readily express in English what we wanted to share, the experience let us communicate with American people whose kindness and curiosity about the world we will never forget."

Following completion of the project, Hashimoto continued to sculpt fine-art pieces that have appeared in shows across Japan and abroad, while Ito resumed his work in temple carpentry.

Yanagimoto, alongside whom Hashimoto had apprenticed under the late Japanese Order of Culture- winning sculptor Seiko Sawada, has since become a university professor.

The deity Fudo Myo-O, known as Acala in the Hindu tradition where it originated, gained prominence in Japanese Buddhism over a thousand years ago, particularly in the burnt-offering ceremonies of the Shingon sect.

The protector god was depicted in wood sculptures in Japan as early as the 9th century, with larger figures in a standing position appearing in the 11th century as the joined-block technique advanced.

Myokei Matsumoto, a well-known Japanese sculptor of Buddhist images, is reportedly at work on a wooden Fudo in excess of 10 meters for a temple in Saitama Prefecture, with completion expected around the opening of the Tokyo Summer Olympics in 2020."

Filed Under: Conservation, Restoration Tagged With: Art Conservation, Art Repair, Arts management services, Fudo Myo-o, Maryland Institute College of Art, Robert Hannum, Sculpture Repair, sculpture restoration, Shingon Buddhism

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