ACI: Opus Sectile

Since Sant' Imbenia had marble opus sectile fragments which needed to be cleaned, our class was split into groups. Some worked on fresco pieces and others were in the marble lab. The marble tiles were soaked in tubs of water with the mild detergent and biocide. Andreina, a conservationist (and Roberto's wife), described the process of scrubbing off dirt with a toothbrush before taking it to the table to remove any hardened material.

Andreina and Chiara instructing us on marble cleaning

Here is Andreina's link: http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/317

We continued the process of gently removing dirt either by brush and the cleaning solution, or by using a scalpel to very gently scrape stubborn build up from the marble. Francesca made sure we were holding our scalpels the correct way. If you could hear the scraping, it was too rough and could leave scratches on the surface.

Opus sectile

 

 

Marble duty.

Lindsay worked on this huge piece for days, it was a beast!

Some pieces would need to be put together again, like the fresco.

Others had more of a tangible pattern.

Marble variations.

Shannon (Grove City College) and Gage with 'zanzaras.'

If the calcium or mud deposits were too hard for the scalpel, we got to use the the pneumatic drill. Chiara said they called this zanzara (mosquito in Italian), because of the 'eeeeeeeeeeee' sound it made. We all wanted to use the zanzara because it was so satisfying to see little chunks of dirt fly off.
Often the tiles still needed a good soak to loosen up centuries of dirt. Roberto and his crew had invented a nebulizer, which emits a fine but constant mist onto the marble. CCA had used this method while conserving the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus in the Roman Forum:

http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/443

The marble tiles would sit for hours under the spray, then we would scrub them with toothbrushes. It sounds easy enough but it was grueling. Some of the stuff would not come off no matter how much energy we put into it!

Archaeological Conservation Institute 5/16-6/2 2011

The view from one of the CCR's laboratories.

During the fall 2010 semester I enrolled in the Three Ancient Cities class taught by Dr. Susan Stevens. The three cities were: Athens, Greece, Rome, Italy, and Alexandria, Egypt. Dr. Stevens is Chair of the Classics Dept. and leads the Lynchburg Chapter of the Archaeological Institute of America (AIA). One of the lectures on campus was brought to us by the AIA: “Conservation in Archeology: Case Studies in the Mediterranean Region” by Roberto Nardi, Centro di Conservazione Archeologica (Roma). I was mildly interested because I was enjoying the class, but I had no idea where this lecture would lead me. Roberto Nardi talked to us about mosaic conservation in Zeugma, Turkey, conserving the apse mosaic in the Monastery of Saint Catherine in Sinai, conservation of the triumphal arch of Septimius Severus in the Roman Forum, the bronze centaurs of the Capitoline Museum in Rome, and the cleaning of the wall paintings of the Amiriya Madrasa in Yemen. More of his projects are mentioned here:
   
http://www.cca-roma.org/en/attivita/cantieri

The lecture was completely inspiring and Nardi's love of conserving important sites around the world was evident. Then I went home and watched more videos on the CCA's youtube channel. 
Dr. Stevens took Roberto Nardi out for a glass of wine post-lecture and they discussed the possibility of Randolph students visiting Italy for some sort of study abroad. A few months later, this was the result!

http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/468

An itinerary was made, flights were booked, and fees were paid. We had a lecture and lab schedule for the weekdays and side trips to historic places, including Rome. An extra four days at the end of the class included Venice and another day to explore Rome. I decided to go for the whole 'shabang,' though originally we were set to take the train to Venice and I was looking forward to seeing the countryside. It turns out flying on EasyJet was cheaper and much quicker (*stomach turn*, see 'Aero-hostile' blog entry). Anyway, I thought this trip would look mighty good on a graduate school application since I had determined I wanted to be an arts conservator. I had to scratch that dream when I found out Randolph would not offer any financial awards for me to meet the undergraduate chemistry requirements for a conservation program (it would add another year). (Boo!) After this reality sunk in, I was stuck with a non-transferable round-trip ticket to Rome. I considered not going and losing money on the ticket, but my friends, family, professors, adviser, and Dean Wallace said I had to go, so I did.  (Honestly, there was some arm twisting.)

Our days at the convent consisted of an 8/8:30am breakfast, 9am lecture, 10:45am coffee, 1pm lunch, 2:30pm laboratory, 4:15pm coffee, 4:30pm laboratory, and 7/8pm dinner. It was a full day for me, someone not used to having every moment scheduled; in fact, I'm really bad at full schedules.

Here are some of our lecture topics: The Villa of Sant' Imbenia in Sardinia, The Roman Villa, Cultural Heritage, Opus Sectile, Fresco Painting, Deterioration of Materials, Diffusion and Communication, Documentation, Preventative Conservation during Excavation, Principles of Conservation, and the Future of Conservation. Since I am not an archaeologist I approached this with the eye of an  'art historian/conservationist,' albeit an amateur one. There are photos coming up of the laboratory materials and techniques.


(Note: One funny thing about being part of Roberto's class was his definition of documentation. You see, Roberto uses video as part of his practice, which is wonderful -- except when you are the one being filmed! I believe it may have been the second day of class when through the door walked Giaccobe, one of the drivers, with his digital movie camera. He followed us everywhere, and we joked we were part of a classics reality show. Roberto had originally wanted a closed-circuit television link from the Museum of Alghero in Sardinia to our lab, but he wasn't wired for that yet, thank goodness! Giacobbe was just doing his job and we did bond over Terence Malick (whose win at Cannes Giacobbe updated me on), Bertolucci's movie 'The Conformist and Antonioni. I had taken Post-WWII Italian Cinema way-back-when at Virginia Tech, so I knew a little.)

Sant' Imbenia was a villa on a Sardinian beach, dated to about the 1st century BCE. It was 150m wide, 2 floors and had 49 rooms. It did a lot of maritime business and some underwater excavation will be necessary to study ruins and the piers. It was surveyed in the 1960 and the first excavation was in 1990. There is still no general plan of the villa, but what is known is that the 2nd floor collapsed on to the 1st floor, leaving piles of marble opus sectile, mosaic flooring, blue glass, stucco, and fresco paintings. There are over 200 boxes of pieces. I believe we cleaned about 2 or 3 boxes, if that tells you anything!

The laboratory where we worked.

A sampling of Sant' Imbenia.

Pieces of an ancient fresco painting.

Color and design have outlasted centuries of sun and sea air.

Part of the apse fresco, you can see it curves upward on the edges.

Dolphins!

Dolphin on a column.

So many pieces, even the tiniest are essential to the whole.

Roberto had staff to teach us the proper way of handling and cleaning the fragments. Chiara had worked with Roberto for many years, and was his project manager:

http://www.cca-roma.org/en/node/318

Three beauties, so friendly and patient with us -- Chiara, Flavia, Francesca

Flavia and Francesca were attending a conservation graduate program in London, but were back for the summer to work for Roberto, teach us conservation technique, and guide us through small hilltowns and Rome.

Since these pieces came out of a pile of weathered rubble, they needed to be cleaned gently. First there was the dry clean. This was a brushing off of the dirt (but not the paint or mortar!). We wore surgical masks because of all of the dust. The scalpel was for really hardened bits of dirt, which usually had to be softened with water.

Dusty dry clean.

The pieces were then placed on a marked off section of table for those doing the wet clean, a process a bit more satisfying. Crusty stuff warranted a few layers of tissue sprayed with water mixed with a gentle biocide, a large, hand-rolled swab (Chiara warned us it was harder than it looked, & she was right!) was then rolled back and forth over the surface of the fragment. This gentle process demanded a lot of patience because some of the paint would actually come off if you scrubbed too hard. It may sound trite, but to take a piece of something so old and sit for a long time thinking about its relevance, focusing on it and nothing else, was probably one of the more meditative experiences I've had. I was ready to ask Roberto for a job.

Wet clean. I should have gotten a before and after. And a picture of my perfectly-rolled swab.

 After the pieces were cleaned, the 'like' pieces were consolidated, and the million-piece puzzle began. It was time to piece these bits together -- if possible. Some had been done before we even arrived, but we were able to contribute a little.

Buckets of sand helped support curved pieces of the fresco.

Mapping out the joins on clear plastic would help later in trying to piece together the whole. Roberto had no idea what the villa had looked like; his team would have to build it one fragment at a time.

A nice blue frescoed-flower.

Gina was the hero of our time there. She had 40 joins and based her research presentation on her method of looking at the direction of the brushstrokes, not just the edge of the pieces. She just earned a math degree from Grove City College and wants to be a conservator.

 The next entry: Fun with marble and fresco free-play.

Rieti, Part Two

After the theater we headed to the Via Roma, Rieti's main street/shopping district. Scattered throughout the storefronts are large medieval wooden doors. I was wondering what type of people were lucky enough to live behind these doors, within a short walking distance of bakeries, good food, and the Velino river. I knew we were taking an underground tour to see the ancient Roman viaduct and assumed it was a tourist-y type arrangement, not a private residence. What's left of the viaduct is under buildings constructed during medieval and renaissance eras. We stopped in a doorway amid the souvenir shops, tourists and shoppers. Flavia rang the buzzer on the large door and we were greeted by a gentleman named Mario. We entered the palazzo and above us was the sky (right). He took us down a large flight of mossy stairs to the 'basement,' which had a diagram of the viaduct. I like how Mario's mountaineering helmet is casually hanging next to it.

At the bottom of the stairs was a kitchen and dining area. Flavia told me this was where Mario and friends would eat huge meals and discuss current or future adventures as part of the Club di Alpinisimo Italiano Rieti. I wish Ethan had been with me to meet this guy.

Mario resembled an Italian version of Picasso, but better looking. He was, like many Italians, a smoker, but incredibly youthful and vibrant. You could tell he enjoyed life (another Italian trait!). His most recent expedition with his band of explorers had been in 2000, when he went to the North Pole. 
He led us into the dining room and Flavia translated his introduction before we walked down stone stairs to another subterranean level. The stairs are behind Mario in the picture on the left (above). I love the huge copper pot on the right (above). Here are pictures of what is left of the viaduct, from Roman republican times.

Rieti: Part One

Rieti from behind the Basilica di Santa Maria

I confessed to Ethan all I want to write about is Rome and Venice.  Those parts of the trip are what I am hanging onto as the day to day reality of my American life putters along.  I want to be strolling along the Tiber as early evening approaches; somehow the James river just doesn't cut it.  I want to be able to walk somewhere in this town, but Lynchburg is not foot friendly.  From my house it's even a haul to the bus stop, let alone the grocery store or a real park.

Eventually I'll explain what we were doing at the convent, (since that was the reason we were in Italy).  One of Roberto's employees/interns was Flavia, who grew up in the town of Rieti, a 20 minute drive from the convent.  She had arranged a late afternoon tour of the historic center of her hometown.  We left the lab early and headed deeper into the region known for the ancient "Rape of the Sabine Women" legend (Romulus and his first generation Romans needed women, so they abducted some of the Sabines ladies from this region.  By the time the Sabine soldiers went to rescue them, some years later, most had married and settled into Roman family life.).

We parked and walked up the hill to the Palazzo Vescovile ('Bishop's Palace'), built around 1283 CE.

Shannon under a vaulted arch.

The vaults of the Palazzo Vescovile ('Bishop's Palace').

I could not resist taking a picture of the red Vespa parked behind the fence as we walked out toward the statue of St. Francis in the Piazza M. Vittori.

San Francesco in the Piazza M. Vittori.  Basilica di Santa Maria's bell tower from 1252 CE is above him.

There was a moment where I lost my fellow students after stopping one too many times to take pictures. I walked frantically into the cathedral and saw no one.  I came out, wondering what I was going to do, lost already in Italy. Luckily I turned the corner and they were all admiring the view of Rieti (the first picture on the blog) before we went inside Santa Maria.  This would happen a few times to me, partly because of taking pictures, but mostly because I am slow.  I like to stroll, and, unlike my husband, never walk with a purpose. We entered the church and I did get teary, the first of many times after entering an old and sacred place. It was here I realized: "I'm in Italy!"

A bit blurred but one of my favorite symbols, the sacred heart.

After the cathedral, we took a short walk to Museo Civico Archeologico, the archaeological museum. We walked into a small courtyard and something about this mural seemed familiar:

The local art students had a temporary exhibition dedicated to the artist Keith Haring, an 80s icon. Since I was the only art history major on the trip I could hardly contain myself.  Ooo! Ooo!

This museum also had exhibits on the "Rape of the Sabine" legend, including interpretations of the event by the art school (see above as well).

Jacques-Louis David's The Sabine Women, but in millions of pixels.

And this gem, a reenactment of David's painting but in the style of Yves Klein's body paintings. When I saw this I had to capture it: "My art history prof will think this is hysterical!" 

There were more serious exhibits of course:

Rieti from above.

An expressive beard and brow in marble.

A collection of pottery and votive artifacts.

The museum had a courtyard which we went out into so we could look up at some of the surrounding architecture . I snapped a photo of what I think is the Santa Lucia bell tower. I noticed something in the far right upper (2nd level) window which I thought was extremely odd.

In the window I saw a basketball hoop with a huge poster of Kobe Bryant.  I thought; "Wow, now that's a big fan...and they must have an office where they get to shoot baskets." (*Duh*)

What I found out tonight while doing research on the things I had seen in Rieti was that Kobe Bryant's dad Joe, played for the Sebastiani Rieti basketball team from 1984-1992 (yes, wikipedia is my source here, but I checked other sources too).  Kobe went to school in Rieti, and learned Italian. Though I'm not a Kobe Bryant fan, this was a cool bit of trivia to discover -- and it solved the b-ball hoop mystery.

 After the museum Flavia had arranged for a gentleman to open up the Teatro Flavio Vespasiano (Flavio Vespasian Theatre) for us to have a look around. On the way there she led us to the monument to Rieti's reputation as the "Umbeliculus Italiae," or geographical 'belly button' of Italy. The marker is in the quiet Piazza San Rufo.

After snapping a few pictures around the monument, we strolled to the theater located on the Via Garibaldi, and were allowed inside. The ceiling of the theater is the triumphal parade of Vespasian and Tito (Titus) after conquering Jerusalem.

 It was magnificent! I was tempted to walk down the aisle and get up on stage, but instead sat down for a rest in a red velvet seat. Speaking of rest, I need some. Part Two in the works.