A conservator take on research and accessibility
By Diana Tay

'My Own Words' is a monthly series which features personal essays by practitioners in the Southeast Asian art community. They deliberate on their locality's present circumstances, articulating observations and challenges in their respective roles.

Conservators concern themselves with the posterity of objects and how they can stand the test of time. Often found tucked behind the scenes of the museums, these professionals in white lab coats appear to be mysterious gatekeepers who have a say on whether a painting can be displayed or not. How do they determine the ideal conditions or the fate of whether something meant to endure for generations gets displayed? What is the opportunity cost of saying no? What is ideal?

This question came as part of a reflexive process when I was told my approaches were too institutionalised. This confrontational and challenging question was hard to understand but was, in fact, a pivotal moment in my practice. I started my conservation career in 2009 at the Heritage Conservation Centre as an assistant paintings conservator. Eight years later, I left the institution to undertake my doctoral research, where I worked towards building a material understanding of Singaporean paintings. Working out of the institution allowed me to reflect on what conservation meant to the local art ecosystem (artists, academics, collectors, curators and more) and to draw an understanding of the current knowledge gaps.

What is conservation?

The conservation profession comes with a lot of privileges – to be up close and personal with masterpieces, to be able to touch the impasto ridges, to mend tears and clean away decades of dust off paintings. However, this day-to-day privilege often goes unexamined. It comes with a heavy responsibility as our actions could alter how the present and future generations perceive cultural heritage.

Inpainting areas of loss during conservation. Image courtesy of the author.

For the most part, we engage with conservators when a work of art needs to be repaired, checked for a loan, or restored before being sold. Is there more to conservation than the restoration process of cleaning and mending works of art? This need-driven relationship arguably limits the profession to being a service provider. It stops short of being considered a key player to shape the narrative and understanding of our art and cultural history. As a discipline, conservation finds itself in the sweet spot between the sciences and arts.

The responsibility of making decisions on the best treatment to undertake, assessing risks of the display, and minimising the risks of deterioration are all centred around a material-based understanding and the effect of its externalities. Without careful consideration, a misjudgement could result in irreversible loss, and unfortunately, time is not something we can hit a replay button on. This fear of error could see many individuals saying no to risks. While this is frustrating, this is understandable – not everyone has the same appetite for risk. But if risks are navigated through decisions, and decisions can be better informed with knowledge, we can begin to ask what historical knowledge our current decisions are based on. Is there room to make better decisions?

Expanding conservation knowledge through research and access

Conservation knowledge centres around understanding objects’ past, present, and future by studying their materiality. Conservators can undertake research where traces of history can be discovered through material evidence using a range of scientific instrumentation, technical examination, and photography. By employing a scientific understanding to generate material knowledge, this data can be used to understand the past and inform the future. During my scientific research on the study of Singaporean pioneer artists from paintings in private collections, this knowledge gap was evident. Limited available research highlighted an increasing need for such knowledge, particularly in art authenticity. Through the study of paintings, technical and scientific data can give insights on the materials and techniques used by the artists and are valuable information when assessing artwork authenticity.

Currently, the career trajectory of young conservators in Southeast Asia focuses on the development of hands-on skills and the mastery of craft through transferable skills from a senior conservator. I was personally trained by a group of international senior conservators, and while these artistic skills were essential to laying the foundation for my conservation practice, the struggle to push boundaries in my career required a deeper understanding of the discipline and saw the possibilities in the scientific aspects of conservation. The development of scientific skills, ethical reasonings, and research rigour benefitted from a formal academic education alongside the skillsets of the practical craft. The possibilities of conservation extend beyond just the restoration of artworks.

“The development of scientific skills, ethical reasonings, and research rigour benefitted from a formal academic education alongside the skillsets of the practical craft. The possibilities of conservation extend beyond just the restoration of artworks.”

Mending of a broken Masonite board, a common painting support for Singaporean artists in the 1950s. Image courtesy of the author.

Going back to the question posed in the beginning of what the cost of saying no is, the answer lies in accessibility. By saying no, access to works of art and culture are limited. At what point will access ever outweigh taking risks? To better inform these risks, knowledge is needed. Conservation scientific research can increase accessibility to material knowledge and help build a better understanding of our context. The core of decision-making is the need to develop a contextual understanding of our art ecosystem – our cultural material, climate, heritage, and stakeholders. As the conservation discipline in Singapore is young compared to Europe or North America, there is so much more that needs to be uncovered. There is not a one-size-fits-all approach. Perhaps, the limited research focused on our local ecosystem or reliance on knowledge built outside of our ecosystem has been misunderstood as risk-taking in unideal conditions.

Conservation research such as the preparation of paint samples to the technical examination of paintings can provide a lot of valuable information about the artists’ materials and techniques. Images courtesy of the author.

One possible way to increase accessibility and raise awareness of the importance of conservation research is to undertake research in collaboration with stakeholders beyond institutions, such as private collectors. The active sharing and creation of conservation knowledge through research, education, and outreach makes conservation accessible and inclusive to the art ecosystem. It shifts the focus from adhering to institutional guidelines and the search for ideal conditions to really understanding what we have and creating shared goals within our community. Little by little, the mystery and walls of the conservation profession will come down when we can all understand better and make better informed decisions.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect those of A&M.

This essay was first published in CHECK-IN 2022, A&M’s second annual publication. Click here to read the digital copy in full, or to purchase a copy of the limited print edition.

Read all My Own Words essays here.