For two weeks, I worked with a visiting conservator at the Museum of Anthropology to prepare works for an upcoming exhibition at the University of Michigan Museum of Art. We worked on 18 Tibetan thangkas, which ranged from two to eight hundred years old. The Canadian conservator I was able to work with specializes in thangkas, routinely traveling to Asia to work on them. She has worked on the Dalai Lama's personal thangkas, and is working with Interpol to study art theft in Bhutan. She was a great conservator to learn from, and very encouraging.
A thangka is a Buddhist painting on silk. These are hung as banners in temples and often kept in monasteries. They usually depict a Buddhist deity, though there are differences in style, pigment, and scene depending on where and when the piece was made. The paint is made from minerals found in the Tibetan mountains held together by yak-hide glue, which makes them very susceptible to water damage. Some of the silk mountings were reused and as important as the painting, such as one with a mounting made from a Ming dynasty imperial robe, which showed the wealth and reverence of the patron. Others were on courser fabrics, which sometimes were entirely cut off or remodeled by the previous owner. These are big, with the thangka ranging from a couple feet high to almost as tall as me.
.jpg)
.jpg)
We mounted these silk paintings onto white linen stretchers so that they can be hung up at the exhibition. Because of the fragility of the pieces, and the fact that someone not trained in conservation will be taking them down, we hand sewed them onto the mountings. The visiting conservator sewed around the actual painting, making sure to only use the holes that were already there so as to not damage them further. I then sewed down the outside edges of the silk mountings. I used invisible stitches on the pieces with original mountings, hiding the thread either in a ridge or stained spot or by only grabbing the lining rather than piercing through. In some cases, the silk mounting was partially or wholly missing. In that case, we had to make a fake section. The fake was not trying to match perfectly or look natural; they were made to show how the original painting would have been displayed. A couple were too fragile to be mounted this way, so I put fabric hinges on them. Velcro will be added to these hinges, and then it can be framed.
.jpg)
For the exhibition statement, see: http://www.umma.umich.edu/view/exhibitions/2013-thangkas.php
For more information about what a thangka is, see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thangka
A thangka is a Buddhist painting on silk. These are hung as banners in temples and often kept in monasteries. They usually depict a Buddhist deity, though there are differences in style, pigment, and scene depending on where and when the piece was made. The paint is made from minerals found in the Tibetan mountains held together by yak-hide glue, which makes them very susceptible to water damage. Some of the silk mountings were reused and as important as the painting, such as one with a mounting made from a Ming dynasty imperial robe, which showed the wealth and reverence of the patron. Others were on courser fabrics, which sometimes were entirely cut off or remodeled by the previous owner. These are big, with the thangka ranging from a couple feet high to almost as tall as me.
A typical Tibetan thangka, with an old A more Chinese-inspired thangka, repair to its bottom mounting with its original mountings cut off
Thangka with a Ming dynasty silk robe mounting
We mounted these silk paintings onto white linen stretchers so that they can be hung up at the exhibition. Because of the fragility of the pieces, and the fact that someone not trained in conservation will be taking them down, we hand sewed them onto the mountings. The visiting conservator sewed around the actual painting, making sure to only use the holes that were already there so as to not damage them further. I then sewed down the outside edges of the silk mountings. I used invisible stitches on the pieces with original mountings, hiding the thread either in a ridge or stained spot or by only grabbing the lining rather than piercing through. In some cases, the silk mounting was partially or wholly missing. In that case, we had to make a fake section. The fake was not trying to match perfectly or look natural; they were made to show how the original painting would have been displayed. A couple were too fragile to be mounted this way, so I put fabric hinges on them. Velcro will be added to these hinges, and then it can be framed.
Thangka with a fake mounting
On one piece, the previous owner had rolled up the mountings. The silk had been damaged by rats or insects, and he had created a new channel for the traditional poles by rolling up the remaining mounting. We decided to take out the bottom, as there was so little left that it did not look right, but we left the top. I took out the old stitches. Even though it was a previous repair and not original, we still had to document the process and keep the thread I took out. This thangka is provincial, with a markedly different style, using different colors and materials, than the other thangkas.
Removal of an old repair A finished, 'hanging' thangka
For the exhibition statement, see: http://www.umma.umich.edu/view/exhibitions/2013-thangkas.php
For more information about what a thangka is, see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thangka
No comments:
Post a Comment