Conservation: A Case Study between Art and Architecture

The Oregon State Capitol is a landmark of Modernistic design based on Classical Architecture, and was designed by the New York architectural firm of Trowbridge and Livingston in association with Francis Keally. Completed at the height of the Depression in 1938, the Capitol received funding assistance from the Federal Emergency Administration of Public Works (P.W.A.). Constructed of reinforced concrete, the building is distinguished by angular, unadorned exterior elevations and a massive, ribbed lantern – all sheathed in brilliant white Vermont marble. Artists of national reputation, Ulric Ellerhusen, Leo Friedlander, Barry Faulkner, and Franck Schwarz, collaborated in the winning design and were employed at the recommendation of the architects to produce sculptural relief and paintings of a taut and finely wrought decorative program. Erected in the Modernistic style, the Capitol was sensitively enlarged in 1977 by the Portland firm of Wolff Zimmer Gunsul Frasca in association with Pietro Belluschi.

On Labor Day 2008, a construction fire damaged the exterior Vermont marble, interior Oregon walnut wood panels and a painting by Barry Faulkner adorning the Governor’s Ceremonial Suite. A team of preservation architects and art conservators collaborated to guide the faithful restoration of this important Oregon icon. All restoration work was based on historic research and field analysis of existing materials, but conservation principles were applied differently to the restoration of interior finishes compared to The State of Oregon artwork by Barry Faulkner.

Fire destroyed all the wood panels on the south wall and caused extensive smoke and heat damage on the east and west walls. The north wall suffered minor smoke damage with little to no impact from heat. Oregon Walnut, a species of wood no longer readily available or milled, was incorporated into 30” x 30” veneer panels separated by 1” wide solid walnut splines.  Each panel was book matched resulting in pairs of cathedrals providing strong visual character. It was determined through both field and laboratory testing that the original finish system was a shellac formula readily used during the late 1930s. Conservation strategies had to consider: proper dismantling techniques of the remaining panels; reproduction of original finishes using volatile compounds or the replacement with new finishes; repair options for the various degrees of damage to the wood panels, incorporation of new replacement panels, and anticipate potential similar catastrophic events in the future.

The remaining panels were measured, documented and classified by the extent of damage. Drawings were produced that recorded each panels’ location relative to the adjacent panel and position on the wall and compass orientation. It was determined that each panel and spline were individually blind nailed to a wood lath support grid which was in turn directly fastened to a back-up clay tile wall. Remaining panel construction from the south wall provided evidence of the construction techniques. As a result, it was determined to the remove the panels in an assembly as large as practical for transportation to a controlled restoration shop environment.  At the shop, a more thorough, up-close evaluation of the damage was surveyed. During review of the restoration options, discussion ensued over the incorporation of pre-existing conditions, post fire damage, to include evidence of repair, or should all the panels have a uniform appearance.

After considering the impossibility of achieving uniformity with new panels and cleaned and repaired panels, it was decided to remove all finishes, including the protective shellac, by sanding to bare wood. Following the removal process, each panel was stained to match a patina color visible on a panel protected from damage. The final clear coat was a catalyzed finish formulated to provide long-term protection.

To further embellish the Governor’s Suite, a map of the State of Oregon was painted by Barry Faulkner, signed and dated in 1938. The work was framed within the wood paneling over the marble mantel on the ­East end of the Governor’s Suite. Faulkner painted the work in oil on canvas that was subsequently marouflaged to a section of the wall.  This section of the wall was clearly part of the original design of the room and was reserved and prepared especially for the painting. As was customary in New Deal era murals, Faulkner’s work was painted on canvas off site and then adhered to the wall when the construction process was advanced or complete.  Also quite typical of New Deal murals was the use of a lead paste adhesive for the marouflage, which was suggested in the later W.P.A project guidelines to the artists.  The presence of the lead paste adhesive proved to be decisive in the formulation of a method for the deinstallation of the piece.  The tenacity of the adhesion of the canvas back to the plaster via the lead paste is such that separation of the canvas from the plaster was impossible, and so the entire section of wall needed to be removed intact for the conservation treatment. The section of wood framing was carefully removed from the clay tile wall substrate by severing the nails that fastened the wood to the tile, and cutting the vertical studs above and below the work. Special precautions were made to protect the fragile paint surface during transport of the work to the conservation lab.

The fire’s effects caused extreme heat damage to the painting primarily in the upper and right areas of the composition, with numerous areas of blistered paint, and many sections of blistered delamination of the canvas from the substrate plaster. The combustible by-products of the fire combined with embedded soot and smoke created a deposited layer of darkened material that obscured the image. The solubility testing results were consistent with the combustible origin of the fire, and a solution of organic solvents was used to remove the deposited surface material, revealing the original chromatic palette of the work. It also became evident that the painting had been cleaned in a previous treatment.  The fragile areas of heat-blistered paint were consolidated and smoothed.  The areas of blistered delamination were brought back into plane with localized use of humidity and mild head and then, once smoothed into place, were adhered to the substrate plaster. The large blister in the upper right corner of the painting protruded 1 ½” from the plaster surface.  Areas of loss were filled, textured and retouched to match the original surface and color.  A protective layer of varnish was applied to the painting.

The exposed finish plaster surrounding the painting was also cleaned with dry sponges, consolidated and filled. Some original pencil drawings by the artist were found on the plaster that had been hidden under the paneled frame.

The most extreme heat damaged areas were irreversibly altered in both their color and texture, and the full extent of the color shift was not revealed until after the cleaning process.  In these darkened areas, Gamblin conservation colors were applied over the varnish layer to retouch the creamy yellow ground color only, leaving the darkened red color of the letters in THE STATE OF OREGON untouched. This manner of retouching allowed the painting to acquire a more finished appearance in line with the decisions made regarding the restoration of the wood paneling, while conserving also the memory of the history of the piece.  

A special thanks to Nina Olsson, Nina Olsson Art Conservation, LLC, who helped write this post in conjunction with Peter Meijer. Nina Olsson Art Conservation , LLC is a private practice for the conservation of paintings and polychrome sculpture based in Portland, Oregon.

Brutalism. The Ugly Face of Preservation.

In recent months there has been much discussion and conflict over the preservation of architecture from the Modern Movement. Structures that once represented the technological and artistic triumphs of the architect from the mid-twentieth century are viewed as unruly intrusions to the environment around them, especially Brutalist style structures. Brutalism represents an aesthetic of architectural design and planning that is rational, geometric, stripped of ornamentation, and predominantly composed of corrugated concrete. This style was initiated by Le Corbusier whose architecture was perhaps the “brutal reaction to the machine mass-produced Miesian building types” born in the post-World War II era.[1]

While we have come to slowly accept, as significant to our architectural history, the glass curtain wall machine-like jewels from one camp of the Modern Movement, we are quick to deny claim and significance to those rugged, concrete, man-made structures of the Brutalist style. Why? They are aesthetically unattractive. Brutalist structures are testaments to urban ideals for civic and educational facilities of the Modern Movement. They also project attitudes of raw unforgiving dominance, and were built by some of the world’s most forward thinking architects. Yet, Brutalism has and is continued to be met with severe criticism and cold reception. Criticism is continually directed towards the design and rough aesthetic qualities of the structures facades, but also for how their corrugated concrete does not mix well with damp climates. No wonder vocal disdain was heard loud and clear at the University of Oregon campus during the late 1970s, implementing the initiation of The Oregon Experiment.[2]

Still, today there are cries for the demolition of Brutalist structures, many of which are called architectural eye-sores or more simply, ugly. Two of Paul Rudolph’s designs, The Orange County Government Center of 1958 and Sarasota High School of 1960 have been in the spotlight of the demolition or renovation debate. Acceptance of Brutalism has been rough from the beginning, and history has proved it is not getting easier. However, we must preserve structures from the Modern Movement, even the declared eye-sores, because they are significant markers of our architectural history. The Brutalist style of architecture offered an alternative and direct challenge to the glass curtain wall that was a dominant characteristic of urban renewal and planning during the Modern Movement. Brutalism was the bold statement to the passivity of glass curtain wall design, and perhaps the closest bridging of conceptual architectural drawings and building.[3]

Perhaps a more pressing issue is why is there a lack of value associated with preserving architecture from the Modern Movement. Even the more favored glass curtain wall structures are still met with uncertainty in regards to preservation. Let’s not forget that Veterans Memorial Coliseum once faced cries for demolition, despite its intellectual display of form and material.  Structures from the Modern Movement are historical documents that attest to the cultural, social, economic, technological, and artistic climates of the eras in which they were conceived. Yet, preservationists are met with ferocious declarations of demolition once these structures begin to show any signs of weathering and aging, which prompts the reminder that for some they are also aesthetically disappointing and offensive.

Preservationists have to ask the more difficult questions of which structures should be saved, and why. Preservation becomes problematic because a set of criteria has been created that ultimately judges the significance of a structure not only for the manners in which it was conceived, but as part of our “perceived architectural heritage.”[4] Declaring a structure(s) as part of our cultures architectural heritage further complicates the preservationists roll because it is then implied that the structure(s) has been significant to the contribution of our current cultural identity.[5] Have structures executed in the Brutalist style been significant towards the contribution to our cultural heritage?  Perhaps not, but they are important markers in our architectural history.

Should structures executed in the Brutalist style be wiped clean from our architectural history? No, but this style should not be fostered, recreated, and executed again. And one of the best manners in which to ensure this is to keep a physical and visual historical record. Preservation cannot be for the aesthetically pleasing only, because our architectural history would be stripped bare and left with dispassionate and boring structures. 

[1] Curcic, Slobodan. “Review of The New Brutalism. Ethic or Aesthetic by Reyner Banham.” Journal of Aesthetic Education, Vol. 3, No. 2 (1969) 171-173.

[2] University of Oregon. <http://uplan.uoregon.edu/faq/FAQPatternLanquage.html> [Accessed May 2, 2012].

[3] Rohan, Timothy R. “Rendering the Surface: Paul Rudolph’s Art and Architecture Building at Yale.” Grey Room, No. 1 (Autumn 2000) 84-107.

[4] Whiteley, Nigel. “Modern Architecture, Heritage, and Englishness.” Architectural History. (1995) 220-237.

[5] Refer to previous footnote.

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Water Intrusion: The Technique of a Leak

Finding the source of water intrusion within an older existing building can be exceedingly frustrating. Following a methodical and systematic investigation procedure will manage and organize the process. If the leak is occurring within occupied space, it is critical to interview and obtain information from those individuals directly affected by the circumstance. Is the leak associated with weather, water use, or other activities? If weather related, when did the leak occur relative to the start of the bad weather? Does the leak occur under windy conditions only? Wind driven rain can push water 2 inches up a vertical surface. Does the leak occur consistently in the same spot? Having an understanding of the building’s age, material science, archaic construction techniques, and professional experience brings focus to the investigation.

Visual observation is the single most important diagnostic tool. Are there obvious sources of water intrusion like open windows, broken downspouts, exterior holes in the building shell, or leaking bathroom fixtures? Storm days are often good opportunities to observe the flow of water over a building surface leading to potential sources. After a rain storm, are some exterior surfaces slower to dry? Has the water pooled along horizontal surfaces or against exterior walls? These observations can be made directly by the investigation team or related by maintenance personnel or property owners. Photographs taken before, during, and after a leak provide valuable perspective on the dynamic nature of the leak.

Infrared camera analysis adds another diagnostic layer of evaluation data. Temperature differentials between wet and dry surfaces can collaborate other visual observations. However, a number of varying conditions, not just water, can cause temperature differences between materials or even temperature differences within the same material. For instance, an exterior stucco wall installed over steel studs may have extreme temperature changes as a result of heat conductance through the steel studs with no related water intrusion.

Often it becomes necessary to augment general observations of interior and exterior surfaces with destructive investigation, a method by which the surface materials are sequentially removed to investigate archaic construction methods. As materials are removed, construction techniques can be evaluated for water tight joints. Moisture meters and other hand-held evaluation tools verify the presence of defective conditions. Openings, or wall-lets, are located at corners, abutting materials, complex intersections of structural elements and architectural materials, and/or other commonly known sources of water intrusion.

Reverse investigation in which the leak point is enlarged and video scopes or wires or other tracing devices are inserted in the opening are used to back trace the leak from the point of observation to the source. This method is often a last resort because it involves cutting several observation points in all directions to follow the path of water. With patience, persistence, and a methodical process, water intrusion defects can be located and repaired.

More than Decorative: Portland's U.S. Custom House Symbols

The second-half of the nineteenth-century was a prosperous time for architectural development in Oregon. This period saw the establishment of professional architects in Oregon, allowing the state to be comparable with eastern architectural development of the same era in the United States.[1] Portland was the center of economic growth and abundance in Oregon, and the U.S. Custom House was built to promote and accommodate Portland’s economic prosperity. Originally U.S. Customs Services was housed in one of Oregon’s earliest public buildings, the Pioneer Courthouse, which was constructed in stages between 1869 and 1903. However, the U.S. Customs Services quickly outgrew this building, and by 1898 construction began on the present U.S. Custom House.

The present U.S. Custom House is a testament to the Italian Renaissance Revival style, popular in the late nineteenth-century architectural vernacular of Oregon. The building was designed in the office of James Knox Taylor, Supervising Architect of the U.S. Treasury Department, and supervised under noted Portland architect Edgar Lazarus.[2]  Portland’s U.S. Custom House is a symmetrical four-story building, H-shaped in plan, and encompasses a full city block. Joint efforts by Taylor and Lazarus resulted in a fusion of style that references Renaissance, Mannerist, and Baroque features that are showcased on the exterior and interior of the building. 

This fusion of style begins on the first-story walls which are composed of brick masonry enclosed in light gray granite, with window and door openings that feature semicircular arches. The first and second floors are separated by a balustrade and a granite stringcourse carved with Vitruvian scroll details. The two upper stories are composed of Roman brick and use terra-cotta to display dentil cornice molding and scrolled consoles detailing.[3] The most distinctive Italian Renaissance Revival style is found in the architectural ornamentation of the exterior fenestration, and is most prominently featured around the second and third-story windows.

The architectural ornamentation or “Gibbs-surround” of the second and third story windows of Portland’s Custom House borrow directly from Italian Palazzos and include several allegorical symbols: a key and a balance, a symbol of the God of Mercury, a hand with two extended fingers, a laurel wreath, a palm branch, and a flaming torch. At the time of completion the Oregonian ran an article that focused on the obscure nature of these allegorical symbols.[4] Lazarus was questioned on the purpose of the symbols, and he commented on how the allegorical symbols held no significance except for their use as decorations. In agreement with the author of the 1901 article in The Morning Oregonian, “Merely Allegorical and Without Special Significance,”  it does not follow that a building in the Italian Renaissance Revival style would showcase allegorical symbols solely for their ornamentation. Allegorical ornamentation is purposeful, with every symbol representing to the public a function or aspect of the intended purposes of the building on which they are represented.

The balance is the most recognizable symbol, symbolizing justice. It follows that since the U.S. Custom House was built for the U.S. Custom Services, which played a significant role in the economic growth of the area, architectural ornamentation of the symbol of justice would be included. This symbol tells the audience that all services by its governing body will be conducted justly. The key is borrowed from a Christian symbol which references the bureaucratic nature of Saint Peter’s ability to grant or withhold salvation. This symbol was common in architectural ornamentation in the sixteenth-century, when politics and religion were heavily and most complicatedly intertwined. Perhaps the keys are meant to remind those within to repent, but more likely serve as an emblem of time and removers of obstacles- which are also emblems of the Roman God Janis. The symbol of two extended fingers references religious symbols for blessing and benediction. It could also be referencing classical antiquity, more specifically the Augustas of Prima Porta that depicts the roman emperor addressing or blessing his people through a gesture of a raised arm and two extended fingures.

Two other classical symbols are those of the God of Mercury and the flaming torch. The God of Mercury is represented by a staff with serpents entwined. While the symbol of the God of Mercury is often noted as a representation of speed, it is also a representation of opportunity and commerce, which is fitting for its inclusion among the architectural ornamentation of the building. The flaming torch is often related to the God of Eros, who is commonly depicted with bow and arrow and a flaming torch. However, the flaming torch represented on the U.S. Custom House building is more likely an emblem of both enlightenment and hope, similar to the function of the flaming torch in the hand of Lady Liberty. The final two symbols are the palm branch and the laurel wreath, both of which represent victory and glory.

Portland’s U.S. Custom House is unquestionably one of Portland’s finest historic structures.  It is an exquisite display of the Italian Renaissance Revival style of architecture with a symmetrical organization, use of terra-cotta, Roman brick, and granite materials, classically engaged Doric, Iconic, and Corinthian Columns, and displays of richly detailed architectural ornamentation found throughout the  Gibbs-Surround. While it has been said the allegorical symbolic ornamentation used on U.S. Custom House is without significance and merely decorative, the explanation of each symbol has led to the credible reason for the inclusion of all these symbols. For the architecture of Portland’s U.S. Custom House is in the Italian Renaissance style, a style that uses symbolic ornamentation to signify both emotion and reason.  

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[1] Ross, Marion D. “Architecture in Oregon, 1845-1895.” Oregon Historical Quarterly. (1956) 32-64.

[2] GSA. U.S. General Services Administration, U.S. Custom House, Portland, OR <http://www.gsa.gov/portal/ext

/html/site/hb/category/25431/actionParameter/exploreByBuilding/buildingId/350#> [Accessed March 12, 2012].

3 [Refer to above footnote]

[4] “Custom-House Symbols. Merely Allegorical and Without Special Significance.” The Morning Oregoninan, Aug 5 1901, 5- NewsBank and/or the American Antiquarian Society. 2004.

Surveying Modern Resources in Portland's Central City

“Modern” is not traditionally part of a historic preservationist’s vocabulary, but as time rolls on, modern resources have become notable for their architectural significance, construction technologies, and association with significant social patterns that define national, state, and local history.  In 2011, Peter Meijer Architect, PC (PMA) conducted a reconnaissance level survey of modern historic resources in Portland’s Central City.  The work was completed to dovetail with the City of Portland Bureau of Planning and Sustainability’s Central City 2035 Plan.  For this survey the modern period is defined as 1945-1985, beginning with Post-World War II development and ending when all Modern era properties will be at least fifty-years in age when the Central City plan is fully realized in 2035.  

Why consider the potential historic significance of modern buildings if they are only 60, 40, or even less than 30 years in age?  Planning decisions that are being made now will have enormous impact on the shape of the city in 25 years.  Many of the surveyed modern period resources will have developed historical significance by the time they are 50 years in age.  Future planning decisions need to include preservation considerations for significant resources that contribute to the City’s history, its architecture, and social development.  This survey sets the framework in place now to limit the risk of losing significant modern historic resources in the future.

Mod-toids: Some interersting modern survey findings:

 

Glass and metal curtain wall, roman brick, and various treatments of concrete (block, poured, panels are the most common exterior materials found on Modern Period buildings.No single-family residential units were constructed in the Central City during the modern period. Small industrial buildings, including warehouses and service bay resources, are found in every cluster of the Central City. These building types have highly adaptable plan types and their size, character, and location make them ripe opportunities for redevelopment as industrial needs change.Modern period transportation developments, such as freeways and bridges, have greatly impacted the Central City urban landscape. Many of the Central City clusters are geographically defined by transportation developments. Larger modern resource types tend to be more concentrated near freeways and freeway entrances.

Could automobile-oriented resources that we associate with sprawl, such as gas stations, drive-through restaurants, auto dealerships, and parking garages attain historic significance?  How will construction technologies common for these resource types perform if these buildings are to be preserved for several decades to come?  While not traditionally viewed as high style architecture, these resources clearly convey the nation’s social transition to becoming a car-oriented culture.  Although planners and city officials tend to look at methods to creating more transit-oriented opportunities, the modern auto-era is undeniably a significant component of our nation’s social history.  It is important to find ways to preserve and highlight examples of this history while still achieving walkable city, alternative transportation, and sustainability planning goals.

The “International” style of architecture deserves more descriptive terminology and delineation in state historic inventory database records. Currently, a 15-story curtain-wall office tower, a 2-story concrete building on stilts with parking below, and a single-story Miesian medical clinic with a modular façade and vertical projection are each considered to be “International” style resources, although the character-defining features of each resource are quite different. As Modern period architecture is considered more “historic,” a stronger delineation of modern period styles is necessary.

Is Brutalism a modern era iteration of Richardsonian Romanesque architecture? Similar to the 19th century style commonly used for public buildings, Brutalism displays its stout structure, making obvious the strength of the building. Both Brutalism and Richardsonian Romanesque styles shy away from ornamentation, but instead highlight the function of the building in its stylistic appearance. If this comparison is true, why does a preservationist’s heart warm at the sight of a stone and brick armory or library with battered corners, low-slung arches, and fenestration that clearly conveys its use, yet views the cold concrete nature of a brutalist dormitory or parking garage with disdain?