Conserve: To protect from loss or
harm; to keep quantity and quality constant through physical or chemical
reactions or evolutionary changes.
Restore: To bring back into
existence or use; to return to an original condition.
Close in
definition, the differences when applied to art treasures can be catastrophic.
Consider the botched effort to “restore” ElÃas GarcÃa MartÃnez’s 120-year-old
fresco “Ecce Homo” which had deteriorated from humidity in the church of
Santuario de Misericordia of Borja in northeastern Spain.
Results
like this are tragic when artists attempt to repaint the original.
Conservation
“My job
is not to paint over injuries,” says conservator Elena Valentinovna King. “My
job is first to make sure the artifact is structurally sound. I then carefully
remove layers of grime and deteriorated varnish. Typically, I must compensate
for losses or disfigurement using conservation grade materials. Finally, I
apply a coat of varnish to unify and saturate the surface.”
Elena
holds a master degree in art conservation, specializing in Byzantine icons,
from St. Petersburg Academy of Art, St. Petersburg, Russia, as well as a master
in painting from the Academy. Her expertise is broad, having stabilized
hundreds of important icons, including work on 12th century frescos in the
Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Pskov, Russia, and 14th and 15th century
icons in the Pskov Museum’s permanent collection. She and her husband moved to
the United States in 1997 where Elena worked as senior conservator in several
of the country’s top conservation centers before establishing an independent
service.
Over the
last 11 months, beginning in September 2016, Elena has intermittently worked on
site at Panagia Pantovasilissa Greek Orthodox Church in Lexington, Kentucky to
preserve the integrity of a precious collection of icons painted in the
mid-20th century on Mount Athos.
Panagia
Pantovasilissa Church, Eparchy of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of
Constantinople, was the first so named in the United States, having dedicated
their church building in 1953. After more than 60 years in the same location on
Tates Creek Road, the parish initiated construction of a new church in Fall
2013 and moved their home in December 2015 to the intersection of Tates Creek
Road and Rebecca Drive. An important part of the relocation process was the
care of the four large icons and 12 smaller icons of the apostles that had been
in place on the original iconostasis since the late 1950s.
What’s in
the Name? The Patronal Icon of Panagia Pantovasilissa
Greek
immigrants began clustering in Central Kentucky after the First World War and
several Balkan conflicts. By 1948 they founded the mission parish of Panagia
Pantovasilissa in Lexington. The patronal name of the community was derived
from an icon that once resided in the great church of Hagia Sophia constructed
in Constantinople (532-537) by order of Emperor Justinian I. Shortly before the
city fell to Mehmed II on May 29, 1453, the Panagia icon, reputed to be one of
the four that Evangelist Luke painted, was dropped into the Marmara Sea, along
with other cherished panel icons from Hagia Sophia, to preclude their
desecration by invading Ottoman Turks.
The
Panagia icon was found on the opposite shore of the Marmara near the village of
Triglia in Asia Minor. In response to miracles surrounding the arrival and
presence of the icon, the citizens of Triglia moved it to a nearby monastery
which was later converted to a parish church named Panagia Pantovasilissa in
honor of the icon.
The 1918
Armistice of World War I, and the failed campaign of the 1919-1922
Greco-Turkish War to realize the Megali Idea, brought about massive
deportations of Greeks from Turkey (Asia Minor). The “Great Idea” of recovering
Constantinople (present Istanbul) and her former territories was not to be, but
rather an expansion of Turkish control over Asia Minor under the leadership of
Mustafa Kemal, Ataurk. Triglia families forced to leave their homes relocated
in Raphina, Attica, in southern Greece, taking the icon with them. A new church
named Panagia Pantovasilissa was built in Raphina where the original icon is
still enshrined today.
Many of
the founding families of Lexington’s Panagia Pantovasilissa Church came from
Raphina and can trace their ancestry to Triglia where the icon washed ashore
after its sea journey from fallen Constantinople in the 15th century. To affirm
the parish’s historic relationship with the miraculous icon, Helen Kafoglis
commissioned Hieromonk Seraphim Oftalmopoulou of Karayae Monastery on the Holy
Mountain (Athos) to paint a copy in honor of her parents, Stathis and Anna
Kafoglis, who originated from Triglia. It was delivered to Lexington in 1956.
The other icons on the iconostasis, also by Hieromonk Seraphim, arrived in
1959.
Preservation
Helen
Collis, an honorary trustee of the Cleveland Museum of Art and former
parishioner of Panagia Pantovasilissa, was determined to ensure the
preservation of these treasures she had prayed before throughout her youth. Her
father had personally excavated the earth with a shovel for the foundation of
the first temple on Tates Creek Road. On the recommendation of Dean Yoder,
senior conservator for the museum, Mrs. Collis consulted with Elena about
taking measures to protect the icons. The parish got behind the effort and
raised funds for the project.
Because
of Elena’s knowledge of antique materials and her skill in performing
structural and cosmetic repairs, the museum had previously commissioned her to
stabilize an extremely valuable acquisition before further conservation
procedures could go forth. It was a 15th century Eleousa Theotokos icon
attributed to Angelos Akotantos, known for marrying Byzantine and Western artistic
elements. Angelos was one of the primary artists of the Cretan School, along
with Andreas Ritzsos, that coalesced in Heraklion a few decades before the
final siege of Constantinople. A century later El Greco (1541-1614) received
his early training at this new center of post-Byzantine painting in Heraklion.
The icons
of Panagia Pantovasilissa, while solidly within the Byzantine legacy, reflect
this evolution of the Cretan school toward a partial fusion with aspects of
Renaissance aesthetics. In contrast with the Panagia itself, which is a copy of
a much older prototype, the three other large icons that inhabited the first
iconostasis and the icons of the 12 apostles are more painterly. Their
portrait-esque modeling using a range of color to determine brilliance and
contrast (chiaroscuro) creates a sense of depth. This affinity for one-point
perspective is one of the primary characteristics of Renaissance painting.
The artist
Hiermonk
Seraphim was a mid-twentietn century iconographer and talented painter in the
Cretan tradition stylistically influenced by the works of Angelos Akotanto. His
icons, like those of Angelos, maintain a passion-less intensity that encourages
prayer to the prototype more than admiration for the skill of the artist who
created the images.
The
second iconostasis constructed in marble by *Fr. Cosmin Sicoe for the new
temple will support four large icons. Besides the Panagia, they are: the Pantokrator
(Christ Enthroned), St. John the Forerunner, and St. Basil the Great.
The kisses of ancestors
The work
of a conservator is archeological, revealing the material culture of past
activity. It is also curative without risking “loss or harm.”
“It is
inevitable with time, local atmospherics, smoke from lampades, and the loving
gestures of lips and hands, that damages are suffered,” says Elena. Examples of
unintended harm are the lip-greased kisses on the icons, some probably dating
back to when the icons first arrived from Greece. “There are many kisses on all
the icons, the heads and feet. I can do nothing to remove them because lipstick
bonds with the paint on a chemical level. If I completely remove the kisses,
the paint will come with them down to the gesso. These icons will always be
signed with love, the kisses of ancestors.”
What
Elena can and does do is to patiently clean the icons in stages. Over time,
environmental stresses, including oxidation and aging as well as handling,
cause weaknesses that lead to cracking, delamination and flaking. Note the fine
separation lines on the face of St. Basil (header icon of this article) that
expose the white gesso foundation. Inexpert treatment of stress-paths can
actually hasten degradation.
The
professionally trained conservator begins with analysis of the materials that
were used to build the image. The monastic artist of the Holy Mountain who
painted the icons of Panagia Pantovasilissa worked in the ancient technique and
medium of egg-tempera, which was refined in the imperial schools of Constantinople
and Thessaloniki and spread throughout the empire to the Balkans and Russia.
Repairing cracks
Hiermonk
Seraphim of Karayae Abbey, who made a copy of the original Panagia icon from
Hagia Sophia, added a detailed inscription in beautiful calligraphy. It
describes the history of how the icon came via Triglia to Raphina in southern
Greece. A split in the panel cuts through the left quadrant of the script.
Splits like this are caused when splines remain taunt but the panel bows.
“These
panels were made from pine available on Mount Athos. It’s a very knotty wood
that can, in time, declare itself through the gesso to the painted surface. All
wood has a very active afterlife; it will always respond to its environment.”
Repairs
to this kind of natural wound are surgical though not invasive.
Damaged gold
The
conservator uses specialized materials for each type of compromising event.
Bruised areas of gold, for example, are treated with mica powders diluted with
shellac rather than re-gilding, as some amateurs venture, resulting in
signature patches.
The conservator’s tribute
The icons
of Panagia Pantovasilissa Church are “museum quality,” Elena says. But her
understanding of their value goes beyond that of art investor and museum
collectors. Responding to suggestions that the icons be replaced with newer
images for the new location, Elena submitted these remarks in her proposal:
“If these
icons are replaced, we lose this connection and part of the rich history and
traditions in this community. How many generations offered prayer upon these
icons in a moment of despair or through tears of joy? The icons are imbued with
the energy of the congregation throughout its history. If these icons are removed and replaced, this
connection with the past is lost, leaving the future members disconnected. In Russia, we use the expression namolennaya
icona, which means much prayed upon; we consider such icons priceless.”
By Mary
Lowell
Source: https://www.orthodoxartsjournal.org/conserve-restore-question-ancestor-kisses/
CONVERSATION