So, in university we were conserveting this huge painting, that my classmate have goten (this painting was given her by brother of artist (unfortunately, the artist died quite a long time ago), and in his worlds was found under artist bed)

You can see in what terrible conditions this painting was... Canvas was really solid and deformed... We were joking that it s looked like palačinka (pancake, but i think that a bad translation, if you ever seen slavic one, you will see a resemblance)

So, we stared slow, and really carefully straighten this painting, you can see that at the start with really light weight and pressure, and as time went we slowly increased pressure. (Also we softened the canvas with wet clothes, which we placed under the canvas, and with the help of this moisture we made the canvas more pliable, so it can become more flat)

Then we have cleaned surfaces using the dry method (brushes and sponge). You can ask why? If you know a little bit about cleaning the surface, you know, that wet method is a lot easier.The answer lies in the paint itself, because at first we thought it was painted with oil paints (cuz of shine and smell), but as soon as we tested it with water, it turned out that paint was rubbing off!!! Then we tested it with alcohol, and again, the same thing!!!

Unfortunately, artists don't have the habit of writing on the back of a picture what kind of paint they use. In a perfect world, they would also sign the brand of paint they use... ah... Why can't artists do it...its so simple, and would save nervous of conservators :(

So, after asking the artist's brother over the phone, we learned that these are, in fact, oil paints from america, and apparently diluted with something unknown...why its diluting with water is unknown mistory...

Than we srared glueing falling pieces of the paint layer and also pieces of the three-dimensional part of this painting. Three-dimensional gusli, which are apparently made of plaster, but we are not yet sure of this, we will have to verify this through analysis, which will happen today, professionals from another country, with equipment have arrived to our university,

Fan fact we had a lot of lectures from professionals from differents countries in this semester. They were sharing their knowledge and approaches in conservation!its so interesting! •∆•

Than we stared gluing more unstable paint layers and holes in canvas with japan papers which are smeared with a mixture of Beve (I don't remember its number) which is diluted in white spirit, then with the help of a small iron, this papers are sticks to the surface, so that when we turn this picture over, they do not fall off, and at the edges where there are torn parts, so they will not tear even more.

We started doing all this in end of february, and you can see how this painting became flat over time!

I've worked out a system for packing away pastel artwork. Anything smallish can go in a plastic envelope with a sheet of glassine paper over it, but for larger works, I make a sandwich out of mat board, which is thick cotton board that is used to mount artwork or photos for framing. The pastel goes in the middle of this sandwich, protected by a sheet of glassine paper.

Since this pastel was really large--45x40in (114x102cm)--making the board sandwich for it was A Thing. Mat board generally comes in sheets 40x32in large; larger sizes like 60x40in or even 72x48, 96x48, 104x60in exist, but Fedex/UPS won't deliver those; they have to come in a truck. That's hundreds of dollars in shipping costs, so instead of shelling out for 60x40s I ordered a bunch of 40x32s, cut a couple in half and taped the halves to the wholes to make larger sheets. I then layered two sheets on top of one another, taping them together around the edges, with the joins in individual sheets on opposite ends so the whole thing wouldn't fold where I'd taped a half sheet to a full sheet.

Multiply that by two, and I have my mat board sandwich. I take one last look at Novak and the ballkid, close the sandwich, then slide it into a massive plastic envelope made out of two 40x30in clear bags.

Every work I pack away like this gets its little label.

Not to be dramatic, but it feels like putting the artwork in a bodybag. I don't know when it'll ever come out of this plastic-wrapped sandwich. Getting it into this sandwich to begin with is such a pain in the ass that I can only foresee taking it out to frame it, for myself or if someone buys it. And when might that be? Who knows.

Daniil and the physio being packed away a couple of years ago. They haven't been out of their plastic-wrapped sandwich since, either.

This is one source of motivation to take on oil painting, which I made some forays into last year. Compared to pastels, oil paintings take much longer to complete and are way fussier; just preparing the painting surface is an absolute headache and can be a months-long process, if you're starting from stretching/mounting and priming the canvas yourself.

But a properly painted oil painting is indestructible. Indeed, you can't put a finished oil painting into a dark closet somewhere; the linseed oil binder used in the paints will turn yellow in the dark. Oil paintings have to stay out in good light; they demand to be in a place where they can be seen.

I have a couple from last year which I haven't shared, but are in my living/art studio area slowly curing before they get varnished (you have to wait 6-12 months after painting them to do that). They're not my best work--I haven't yet gotten the hang of oils the way I feel I've gotten the hang of pastels--but it's definitely nice being able to look at them whenever I want.