‘The look of the picture is the picture. And everything a paintings conservator does, from setting down a blister to applying a varnish, affects the eventual look of a painting,‘John Brealey, of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, often says. When paintings are seen as magazine reproductions, slides or color plates, it is easy to lose sight of the fact that a painting is a sculptural relief; it is not two-dimensional. Even a Mondrian has a relief surface of brushwork. If the canvas support of a painting is badly buckled, has weak tacking edges or major tears, it may need to have a new supporting fabric prepared, which may be attached with various adhesives such as wax-resin, polyvinyl acetate, ethylene vinyl acetate, silicone, or traditional pastes and glue. Attachment may be carried out using forms of hand pressure, the vacuum hot table or new gentle cold suction tables. Losses in the actual paint film are generally filled with a water-soluble gesso putty and inpainted to match the surrounding area with reversible materials (retouching paints that can be readily removed without harm to the original paint film.) There have been some technological advances in materials and techniques, and we can be very proud of some achievements in the modern field of art conservation. But we must live also with the wellmeaning attempts from restorers in the past that have not been so successful. If you were to imagine a magnified cross-section of a Van Gogh painting that has never been lined, its impasto-a thicker area of brushwork-would have all the fresh, crisp, peaked edges of a meringue. However, the nineteenth century approach to planar distortions or tears was often to apply a glue lining with heat, steam and pressure, which sadly resulted in a surface of flattened impasto. We know from recent research by H. Travers Newton and Vojtech Jirat-Wasiutynski that Gauguin was even guilty of intentionally trying to flatten Van Gogh’s impasto with an iron while repairing a damage.’ This distorted surface and ‘place mat’ look was actually esteemed by some dealers and gallery owners; it was often considered even to add to the value of a work. Such distortions are readily seen. Other alterations caused by lining may be more subtle. A comparison of two Gilbert Stuart portraits on canvas, one which has never been lined and one which has, can be very revealing. Gilbert Stuart had a particular fondness for distinct textures and often used twill-weave canvas or textured wood panel surfaces to resemble a twill-weave pattern. The topographical quality of a Stuart reflects the artist’s intent, but most linings mute this relief. Cezanne had a habit of removing his canvases from the stretchers, rolling them up, and shipping them to his dealer who then had the pictures glue-lined. The resulting distinctive parallel horizontal cracking and mashed peaks in his extremely sculptural paint surfaces is sadly irreversible. It is therefore a great joy to stand in front of a painting that has led a sheltered life, with minimum interference from fire, flood, punctures, rolling or, most significantly, insensitive restorers. Paysage li Cbuponval by Pissarro is an example of one of the still unvarnished