Impermanence: A curator's viewpoint

Abstract

It has been said, with justice, of philosophers that there is no notion so ridiculous that it has never been put forward by a philosopher, and surely it must be true that there is no material or technique so impermanent that it has never been used by an artist to create a work of art. The total freedom now enjoyed by the artist presents formidable problems for the museum curator and his conservator, problems which are often little understood by either the artist or the curator. On the one hand, the work of art may be totally ephemeral-like David Medalla's columns of foam-and thus 'uncollectable', whilst the machine to make one's own columns of foam in the manner of David Medalla is collectable, though of doubtful significance. Such works of art occupy a grey area between certain kinetic sculptures and the happening, and the latter, by its very nature, is not conservable because, although it can be recorded by means of film or videotape, the materials employed are consumed. Consequently the museum curator is not called upon to collect and preserve electrocuted catfish, though, on a scatological note, canisters of soiled toilet paper and semen-stained tissues have been put forward as media for artistic expression. Few curators would be prepared to accept such works for the permanent collection, if for no other reason that the choice of materials carries with it deliberate impermanence. Less extreme, perhaps, are those works made of rather more stable organic materials-such as chocolate, sugar, marzipan, bread etc.which can under carefully controlled conditions (including deep-freezing) be preserved indefinitely, but which rapidly decay when placed on display under normal atmospheric conditions and are consumed by weevils. For the curator these extreme examples present relatively clear-cut questions of policy, and the usual response will be that whilst he might willingly include them in an exhibition he will not acquire them for the permanent collection. Much more difficult for the curator is the area between the extreme examples cited and more orthodox works of art, and it can be asked what is the justification for the acquisition of works of art which are in varying degrees unconservable? All works of art made of degradable materials carry within them the seeds of their own destruction and, ultimately, it is a question of when rather than whether they will finally disintegrate. Works of art made of relatively stable materials, employing techniques of execution which have been evolved over generations, can by careful conservation have their natural lifetimes extended almost indefinitely, but if, through the deliberate act of the artist, his negligence or his ignorance, faulty techniques or materials are employed, the lifetime of the work of art may be distressingly short. Indeed the artist may see his work as possessing by choice a very limited life span, and the immediate problem arises as to how can the vision of the artist and the concern of the museum for preserving works of art in perpetuity be reconciled? Can, in fact, the efforts of the curator be construed as deliberately distorting the artistic intentions of the creator of the work of art? And thus do they constitute an