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Technical Support Central
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 Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Secret of the Old Masters
 I will take advantage of these first few entries to introduce you to some of the concepts that I find intriguing. One of my concerns is that a sizable number of artists have a true zeal for trying to uncover a lost secret of old master painters. (Loosely defined, old master painters are artists, such as Titian, Rubens and Rembrandt and others from the 16th and 17th century, who embody a technique that employs underpainting in transparent earth tones followed by both opaque layers and glazes to achieve paintings with sparkling depth.) This “secret” was alluded to in a few books contemporary to old master painters and more substantially in research done during the late 19th and early 20th century. The misconception of a secret medium comes from drawing conclusions based on observation and some false conjecture. This misconception was substantiated with poorly executed scientific analysis from a period of time where the study of art materials was in its infancy. A major part of the confusion stems from observing that old master paintings draw their allure from a high degree of transparency of the colors used by the artist. This erroneous observation documents what we now understand to be a physical property of painting materials. As many paints age, they become more transparent. Complex chemical changes in the structure of the paint, as interaction of lead white and components of the linseed oil in the binder occurs, turn the mixture into a metallic soap (a process that’s called saponification). This process makes the paint look transparent. The old masters did not intend to have their pictures become transparent revealing underlayers in the painting, but the overall effect allows light to penetrate the surface and reflect in ways that give us the look we have come to accept as the style of old master artists. One of the major flaws perpetrated in the late 19th and early 20th century was the search for a medium that would produce the effect of this natural aging process. Those who studied the old masters came to the conclusion that a medium must have been used in the past to achieve the appearance of transparency we see today. Somehow the use of this medium was carefully guarded and not readily shared. Jacques Maroger was probably the most vocal and active of the art materials historians who supported the hypothesis of a secret medium. Maroger went even farther by producing a number of mediums that incorporated boiling linseed oil with lead, combining it with a resin varnish like mastic, and processing it until it yielded a brownish black gel material. Early experiments by Maroger are both amusing and frightening, as he mixed both leaded oils with water-based materials to create some horrifyingly unstable painting mediums. By the time Maroger settled on a painting medium that suited him and that he thought was the secret of the old masters, he had only succeeded in reinventing a well known 19th century painting medium called “megilp.” Unsafe to make, as well as a disaster to use as a painting material, megilp was known to be unstable and unreliable to painters living during that period. This is a simplified explanation of a much larger issue, but illustrates the point that experimentation with mediums that contain a complex mixture of components has potentially undesirable consequences, if inherently unstable materials are used. Unfortunately, it has nearly been the rule that “old master” medium creators choose components that are unstable from the start; then they combine them with stable and other potentially flawed materials and expect them to behave well together to create a superior painting medium. One rule to remember is that mixing unstable components with stable ones does not create benign combinations. The inherent properties of the problem materials will show their nature and react in unsuitable ways. This argument for a secret medium has repeated itself in countless ways. If you do a web search, you’ll find manufacturers who tout possession of the secret medium of the old masters. Amber mediums, a variety of Maroger-like substances, black oils, and gels made by small manufactures dot the painting marketplace. Even mainstream manufacturers have bought into the hype and created reproduction 19th century mediums using recipes from that time period. Do not confuse these mediums with alkyds and other modern synthetic materials that exploit the potential virtues of painting mediums without the vice of unstable chemicals. A few voices in the painting world proclaim what exotic medium suppliers do not want anyone to hear. The secret of the old masters is that they were highly gifted and skilled painters, not amateur alchemists who dabbled in trying to make chemistry substitute for hard work and diligent practice. P. T. Barnum was a great student of the human condition. He knew that people could be duped into quickly parting with their hard-earned money for an ephemeral thrill, a cheap curiosity. Today, painters are ripe for the taking. They are naturally inquisitive experimenters who seek to push techniques and materials to the limits of their physical properties. Advertise a short cut or a way of achieving a look and feel of an icon of the art world, and they beat a path to the door of the manufacturer who is selling a little “miracle in a bottle.” I don’t deny that some of these materials will perform in remarkable ways. However, the long-term consequence of using mediums with unstable components that will destroy the integrity of a paint film so that the picture darkens, becomes difficult or impossible to clean, or flakes away as the paint become extremely brittle, seems not to matter to a number of artists. Their argument is that they have been using this medium for 20 or 30 years and nothing bad has happened. With a few of these flawed materials, the detrimental effects will not be apparent for upwards of 70 to 100 years. It may be a consolation to the artists who realize that they will not be around when the damage starts to manifest itself, but it is little solace to the owner of a painting who, having paid a high price for a work of art, expects to pass this treasure on to young family members so that they may enjoy it. Making a painting that lasts is a tricky business. Time, natural deterioration of even the most stable materials, fluctuating environmental factors and transportation—all work against the artist to assure the potential destruction of the work of art. A lot of thoughtful care has to go into the preparation of the painting support, paint selection, surface treatment of the finished painting, framing and selection of a suitable viewing location in order to make a painting last. Proactive methods and techniques will be the topics of discussion for future entries. Comments on old master mediums are welcome. This debate is far from over and every generation picks up where the previous one left off—to reignite the potential merits and flaws of mediums painters use.
3/21/2007 9:54:01 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)
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 Monday, March 12, 2007
Historical Pigments
Binding Media for Historical Pigments  I recently returned from the 2007 College Art Association meeting in New York where I, with 3 other participants, gave a talk on historical pigments. My presentation, “The Use of Traditional Pigments in Conjunction with Contemporary Binding Media and Techniques,” was part of the session called “The Contemporary Relevance of the Renaissance Palette.” The title I gave to the chair of the talks changed focus a bit over the course of my research. By the time I’d completed my study for the presentation, the emphasis had shifted to the physical structure and spectral composition of historical colorants. It was difficult to isolate artists who use historical pigments with contemporary binders to take advantage of the physical characteristics of the materials. I found that the working properties of the pigments stimulated my curiosity more than using historical pigments to formulate paint. Today I want to focus on one aspect that I didn't fully develop at the College Art Association session. What are appropriate binding mediums for historical pigments? It seems that no hard and fast rules apply to what pigments can be mixed with aqueous mediums such as watercolor gums, starches and acrylic binders. Many pigments, because they are toxic or reactive with each other, will not be selected for aqueous mixtures. A pigment like Orpiment degrades in water and does not benefit the artist when used in aqueous media. Besides, it smells like rotten eggs as well. Some pigments are just hard to mate with water-based binders, so any paint made would not perform well. Examine the list of pigments used by acrylic paint manufacturers and compare that list with an oil color line of paints. The differences will reveal what pigments have a difficult time mixing with water-based mediums. (Note: Don't compare the color names. The pigment names are the important factor when making a comparison.) However, an artist can exploit some of these incompatibilities. Unless a pigment mixed with water media will break down, the unusual reaction may possess unusual characteristics that have visual appeal. Again, unless some harmful or rapid deterioration is created by the presence of water, an artist is free to explore the possibilities inherent in historical pigments. Do you have any unusual pigment/binder combinations that create interesting results? Please share them. Additional notesA brief clarification of terms: Rutherford J. Gettens and George L. Stout, who co-authored Painting Materials: A Short Encyclopaedia (1942) defined “pigment” as “a finely divided coloring material which is suspended in discrete particles in the vehicle in which it is used as a paint (thus being opposed to a dye which is soluble in the vehicle). Pigments are derived from a wide variety of substances, organic and inorganic, natural and artificial. They may be classified according to color, chemical composition or source.” To read more, go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pigment.Orpiment is arsenic trisulphide; King’s Yellow is the name of the pigment if it’s artificially made. Orpiment was made by grinding the native mineral orpiment into a powder. It's a very bright yellow; it works well in oil. The artificially made pigment is very poisonous, but the native orpiment was evidently not so. Orpiment, found in the art of the most ancient civilizations, has been replaced, in modern times, by the cadmium yellows. To read more about Orpiment, sometimes called Chinese Yellow, including where it is found and how it is processed, go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orpiment and http://webexhibits.org/pigments/indiv/overview/orpiment.html.
3/12/2007 10:08:18 AM (Eastern Daylight Time, UTC-04:00)
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 Wednesday, March 07, 2007
What’s in a Name? Paint pigments and their stories
 When it comes to the names of pigments, I find that the more unusual the name, the better the story. I search for these odd names and relish them like a gem collector who finds a precious stone. Names like Ackerman’s Yellow, Field’s Carmine and Davy’s Grey come to mind. What are the origins of these unusual pigment names? Who manufactured these pigments? What artists purchased them and what pictures contain them? Pigments tell a backhanded story about their inventors, region of origin, manufacturers’ dreams, and a marketer’s hope. I’m particularly attracted to pigment names that are incorporated with the inventor’s name, such as Leithner’s Blue. Was it hard work, shrewd advertising, pride—or vanity—that drove the inventor to incorporating a family name into the colorant? It seems that often the invention of a process is the influencing factor in naming a pigment. Take lead white, as an example. This pigment exists as a colorant in documents dating from the 1st century BC. Lead white has a fascinating history of manufacture as well as use. It spans the breadth of both the industrial and artistic world. While today it’s used nearly exclusively as an artist’s pigment, in the past it was ubiquitous for all manner of color and coating. If we look at it from the perspective of the past, we see a material that’s dense and opaque, mixes well with oil, has protective properties, and is perfect for tinting with other colorants or application by itself. Many of the aliases for lead white indicate the city or region where it was manufactured. Cremnitz White, derived from the name of the Austria town (Krems), where the process was developed to produce the pigment, was probably the most popular. Berlin White, Dutch White, French White, Hamburg White, Nottingham White, London White and Vienna White indicate that Krems, Austria, did not have a lock on the production of lead pigment. New processes of taking dull metallic lead, combining it with acetic acid and finishing it with carbonic acid to create lead carbonate were engineered in a variety of fascinating ways. Most of us who have a passing interest in pigments know the story of taking lead sheets (or buckle-shaped masses of lead) and exposing them to vinegar in a closed container that’s surrounded by manure. There were many variations on this practice, in the attempt to create the best method of transforming elemental lead into lead carbonate. Most processes, however, were incomplete. The goal therefore was to adjust the manufacturing process in order to convert the highest percentage of lead to lead carbonate. The lead white pigments that attract my attention are the ones with unusual names like Bartlett Lead, Freeman’s non-poisonous lead white, and Condy’s White Lead. To uncover the secrets of these paints’ origins requires a fair bit of investigation. Some of these lead whites may have made a fortune for their manufacturers, while others barely allowed their makers to scrape out a meager yearly profit. However, one thing is certain. None of them is being manufactured or in common use today. The lead white industry services a few specialty plastics and the art materials industry. Lead paints’ most notable use was as a coating for bridges. The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco was originally painted with a red lead primer and a lead topcoat. New York’s bridges spanning the boroughs were all painted with lead based paints. Today, zinc primers with epoxy, urethane or latex final coats have taken the place of the traditional lead coatings. Lead paints will never have the status or use they once secured. We’re all far better off for it! Nonetheless, they still are among the first choices for many artists, who would find it hard to paint without lead white and shudder to think that someday it may disappear. What do you think about the continued use of lead paint for artists? In addition: As a metal, lead is soft, malleable, ductile, easily fusible, dense and dull medium-gray in color. It is used in containers for corrosives or radioactive materials; it is no longer a component in pencils and most gasolines. The ancient Chinese, the Etruscans and the Roman added lead to bronze when they cast sculptures. Lead carbonate is a poisonous white amorphous powder, PbCO3, used as a paint pigment. To read more about lead paint or to find answers to questions on other art materials, search The Artist’s Magazine’s Technical Q&A site at www.artistsmagazine.com/tam_qna.asp. The great and tormented Spanish painter Francisco Goya (http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/goya/) may have suffered from lead poisoning, according to Janis Tomlinson, the author of a prize-winning biography, Francisco Goya y Lucientes (Phaidon, 1994, 1999). To read a doctor’s conflicting diagnosis of what ailed Goya, visit www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/entrez/
query.fcgi?cmd=Retrieve&db=PubMed&list_uids=10541154&dopt=Abstract
To read commentary on a few of Goya’s last, “Black Paintings” which he painted on the walls of his home, go to dametzdesign.com/goya.html. Other artists posthumously diagnosed with lead toxicity are Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-90) www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/gogh/) and the Candido Portinari (Brazilian, 1903-62) ( www.artcyclopedia.com/artists/portinari_candido.html). Krems, Austria, where Cremnitz White originated, is today a locus for cutting-edge art. Danube University's Department for Applied Cultural Studies offers a master of arts degree in MediaArtHistories, a two-year, low-residency program that “provides students with deeper understanding of the most important developments of contemporary art: the latest, most controversial software, interface developments, computer animation, net art, interactive, telematic and genetic art, as well as the most recent reflections on bio and nano art, CAVE installations, augmented reality and locative media.” To learn more, visit www.turbulence.org/blog/archives/002145.html
3/7/2007 11:42:07 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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 Monday, February 05, 2007
Welcome and beware of myths
Welcome to my weblog, an opportunity for me to extend beyond the confines of the “Ask the Experts” column in The Artist’s Magazine. I plan to discuss, in a casual but informative way, topics that interest and concern you, such as art materials, techniques and the history of art materials.
By way of introduction, I’m responsible for a large collection of art materials in a major American museum. My responsibility in managing this collection is to provide future generations of scientists and conservators pristine samples and accompanying trade literature that will help reveal the chemical and working properties of art materials in use today. My association with this work sparked an interest in researching the history of pigments, the function of both common and rare art materials, and the unsung history of people who have made a contribution to and have had an impact on the art materials world. These people aren’t household names. They’ve been relegated to a footnote in history, but their presence is still felt and with us in unusual ways.
I’m always amazed by the extent to which artists will go to root out information about how artists in the past used materials. Sometimes these contemporary artists mistranslate or misinterpret the information in ways that are both comic and sad. We could fill a book with the myths concerning artists' techniques! Each generation picks up what it believes are the standard textbooks and educates itself on the inaccurate knowledge published by the experts of that day. These experts may have meant well, but were restricted by the technical research capacity of the time and by the lack of scientific support by a body of experts in the field. When I first encountered some of the sources of these fabrications, I got quite annoyed that myths kept creeping into the working vocabulary of artists. Now I just think of it as job security!
Today, we have conservation scientists and conservators throughout the globe studying art materials and techniques. This corpus of knowledge has slowly revealed both common and startling discoveries, and I look forward to sharing them with you.
2/5/2007 11:08:08 AM (Eastern Standard Time, UTC-05:00)
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