There are many options when restoring historic scenery. A multitude of factors determine the specific course of action, including age, condition, fabric type, paint layers, future handling and overall use. Does the backdrop simply hang on a wall or does a community theatre group use it repeatedly? Is it a roll drop or a fly drop? How often is the scene displayed or actively used by those either familiar or unfamiliar with its history? What’s the artistic provenance of the scene?
We all make decisions based on the available information at the time, and combine it with our training, knowledge and experience, to create a course of action.
When I examine the work of others, I am hesitant to comment. Unless the techniques and materials used during the restoration have somehow irreparably damaged the original artwork, I try to understand why another selected a particular course of action.
There are many ways to clean and repair a historic scene. It was one such horrific repair that prompted the initial storyline for “Tales of a Scenic artist and Scholar.” I was shocked to see hot melt glue used to attach netting to a historically significant scene, immediately recognizing that the artwork had been destroyed. Then, as now, I wondered at what point the individuals doing the restoration realized that they had no idea of appropriate techniques, or the significance of the artifact. Did they care, or even understand that they were destroying history?
I decided to raise the awareness of the scenery’s significance, especially the artist, Thomas G. Moses. My hope was that this botched restoration in Bloomington, Minnesota, could at least be used as a warning. If we understand the cultural significance of an artwork, there is a greater chance for its survival.
I am compelled to comment on another restoration that I recently encountered in Wilmington, North Carolina. The repair of water damage was partially concealed with Sennelier oil pastels. In regard to scenery restoration, there continues to be active discussion about the recommendation and selection of stable pigments and binders. A variety of products can match the color of dry pigment, but none match the completely matte finish of diluted hide glue. All that being said, I have never encountered the use of oil pastels on a historic backdrop before.
Here are my observations regarding why the use of oil pastels may not be the best idea for scenery restoration. The first is the “oil” part; the “coloring” of a drop with an oil-based crayon leaves a greasy residue to the surface that reflects light. It is incredibly visible to the trained eye from even ten feet away. In a product review about artist grade oil pastels, the following comment was made about Sennelier: “Their texture is literally like painting with lipstick.” For the rest of this article, here is the link: http://www.explore-oil-pastels-with-robert-sloan.com/sennelier_review.html
It has always been the texture that made me hesitant to handle oil pastels; the greasy product left on your hands during application. Now, imagine that greasy product on the matte surface of an historic scene.
Oil pastels sit on the surface of the fabric and do not blend with the original paint. So any in painting or over-painting cannot conceal damage or really diminish a repair. To achieve a similar hue and value with oil pastels, it takes multiple applications of different colors. Oil pastels cannot be premixed to match the color, tested and applied. One needs to “layer” several colors, thus causing the “repaired” area to be thicker than its surround.
Furthermore, the application of color when using oil pastels is not uniform. The color “catches” on the texture of the fabric or repair, accentuating some damage. Every flaw, even the tooth of the fabric, is highlighted.
In short, I would not recommend the use of oil pastels to repair any historic backdrop.
To be continued…
