Unconventional types of damage require unconventional treatment strategies. This is certainly true for the collaborative major treatment QAGOMA’s paintings conservation team completed on Gordon Bennett’s (1955 – 2014)Number three 2004, a significant diptych painted in acrylic on Belgian linen.

Bennett is well-known for his highly figurative narrative-driven commentaries on Australian colonial history and contemporary race relations. Number three, however, belongs to Bennett’s ‘Stripe’ series — a group of non-representational works made from 2003-2008 where the artist explored Western Abstractionism.

Gordon Bennett, Australia 1955-2014 / Number three 2004 / Synthetic polymer paint on linen / Diptych: 152 x 182.5cm (each); 152 x 365cm (overall) / Gift of Leanne Bennett through the Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art Foundation 2020. Donated through the Australian Government’s Cultural Gifts Program / Collection: Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art / © The Estate of Gordon Bennett

Gordon Bennett, Australia 1955-2014 / Number three 2004 / Synthetic polymer paint on linen / Diptych: 152 x 182.5cm (each); 152 x 365cm (overall) / Gift of Leanne Bennett through the Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art Foundation 2020. Donated through the Australian Government’s Cultural Gifts Program / Collection: Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art / © The Estate of Gordon Bennett / View full image

Gordon Bennett’s ‘Stripe’ series in progress, 2003 / Photograph: Simon Wright

Gordon Bennett’s ‘Stripe’ series in progress, 2003 / Photograph: Simon Wright / View full image

Condition before treatment

In 2014, the left panel of Number three was unlucky to sustain significant termite damage. The painting was housed in a secure, temperature controlled steel and concrete storage facility in Brisbane. The stealthy termites entered the building through a concrete flooring expansion joint on the hunt for food and penetrated through the painting’s fully enclosed bubble wrapping to feast on the wooden stretcher and any paint in their way. This tale proves that even when stored safely and securely, no artwork is immune to the threat of infestation. However this is also a tale of good luck, as it was through the care and vigilance of collection managers that this infestation was promptly discovered and the painting was able to be recovered.

The termites very efficiently ate their way through the painting’s timber stretcher and continued tunnelling right through the perimeter linen and paint. Damage to the stretcher, including collapsed stretcher members, had resulted in dimensional change and structural instability. Termites had also eaten holes in the painted linen canvas and left metres of resistant mud deposited on the front and back surfaces. All of these issues were complicated by the unique sensitivities of unvarnished modern acrylic paintings which can make them incompatible with more traditional conservation materials and techniques.

With the support of the artist’s partner, Leanne Bennett, the paintings conservation team took on the challenge of recovering the damaged work and returning it to a state where it could be exhibited beside its accompanying panel.

Detail of termite damage before treatment / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA

Detail of termite damage before treatment / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA / View full image

Curled canvas, gaping holes and mud deposits before treatment / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA

Curled canvas, gaping holes and mud deposits before treatment / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA / View full image

Surface distortions from wet mud trapped behind the canvas, raking light / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA

Surface distortions from wet mud trapped behind the canvas, raking light / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA / View full image

The weakened canvas edge / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

The weakened canvas edge / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

Termite tunnels on the wooden stretcher / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA

Termite tunnels on the wooden stretcher / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA / View full image

Treatment outline

Work began by removing deposited layers of termite mud that covered the entire length of the painting’s right side and thickly encrusted the holes visible from the front. A tailored cleaning solution was used to soften the mud which was then scraped away with fine surgical tools. Termite mud is an extremely durable material by nature – almost like cement. So given the extent of damage this was a painstaking task that took several weeks to complete.

Carefully scraping layers of mud from the right side edge / Photograph: Anne Carter © QAGOMA

Carefully scraping layers of mud from the right side edge / Photograph: Anne Carter © QAGOMA / View full image

Detail of mud layers during cleaning / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

Detail of mud layers during cleaning / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

Once the mud was removed from the paint surface, the perimeter of the work was faced with Japanese tissue. This protective layer was used to support the damaged edges and hold insecure areas of paint and canvas in position during treatment.

Next, the work was turned face down to continue cleaning on the back. Dried mud packed between the stretcher and canvas had fused the two supports together at the edges. Once they were carefully separated with palette knives and staples were removed, the damaged stretcher was lifted away.

Turning the work face down after cleaning / Photograph: Kate Wilson © QAGOMA

Turning the work face down after cleaning / Photograph: Kate Wilson © QAGOMA / View full image

Separating the canvas from the stretcher / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

Separating the canvas from the stretcher / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

Mud packed between the canvas and stretcher / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

Mud packed between the canvas and stretcher / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

Removing the damaged stretcher / Photograph: Kate Wilson © QAGOMA

Removing the damaged stretcher / Photograph: Kate Wilson © QAGOMA / View full image

The amount of mud on the back of the work was significant. Unlike the front, using moisture did not assist removal as wet mud only sank further into the porous canvas fibres. The mud on the back of the work had to be removed mechanically while dry using blunt scalpels. Some staining was still visible around the mud-lines.

Over time, wet termite mud trapped behind the work acted as a poultice, which distorted the canvas and caused corresponding areas of paint to appear mottled and irregular. Working from the back, gentle humidification and dry weights were used to slowly flatten these areas. This had to be done very gradually working in small sections as the application of too much moisture can lead to disastrous shrinkage in untensioned canvas.

Mud layers on the back of the canvas before cleaning (left) and after cleaning (right) / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

Mud layers on the back of the canvas before cleaning (left) and after cleaning (right) / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

Surface distortion detail before treatment (left) and after treatment (right) raking light / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

Surface distortion detail before treatment (left) and after treatment (right) raking light / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

When it came to filling voids and replacing areas of lost canvas, numerous experiments were conducted to trial a range of potential approaches. Invaluable to this process was a scaled mock-up of the damaged panel produced using original paints made available from Bennett’s studio.

Many of the canvas losses were quite large, up to 10cm2 in some areas. Conservators would normally fill these voids in two stages — first by replacing the missing canvas with a fabric insert, and then by applying a filling putty from the front to compensate for lost image layers. The latter step generally requires a certain amount of overfilling followed by levelling off, shaping and texturing to best match the original surface. Number three’s unvarnished acrylic surface was too sensitive for this more traditional approach. There were also many areas where the termites had eaten the cellulose-rich canvas but had left the paint layers intact. What remained were incredibly vulnerable fragments of original paint requiring reinforcement from behind.

Making a scaled mock-up for experiments / Photograph: Anne Carter © QAGOMA

Making a scaled mock-up for experiments / Photograph: Anne Carter © QAGOMA / View full image

Detail of damage from the back including areas where termites had eaten the canvas but left the paint layers intact / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

Detail of damage from the back including areas where termites had eaten the canvas but left the paint layers intact / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

Consequently, filling from the front was not a viable option. So the conservators developed an innovative ‘back-filling’ technique. Here, the facing tissue would act as a barrier creating a three-dimensional space in which filling material could be applied and levelled from the reverse. Losses in canvas and paint layers could be filled with a single application and a neat and level fill achieved without disturbing the sensitive surface on the front.

Back-filling had to be done before the painting was restretched, both to provide critical structure to the perimeter margins of the canvas and in order to access losses which would be subsequently blocked by the stretcher members. Many of the filling materials conservators would normally use are too brittle to withstand subsequent stretching so a more flexible material was required. This posed a significant challenge but after extensive testing, a suitable conservation-grade filling putty was developed using cellulose fibres and a synthetic co-polymer binder.

The back-fills were applied in small sections and dried under weight to limit shrinkage which provided the opportunity to impart fill texture through impression. A sample of original studio linen canvas supplied by Leanne Bennett that closely matched Number three was placed underneath the work during filling. Horizontal and vertical threads from the impression canvas and the original canvas were lined up as closely as possible for a seamless effect.

Applying the back-fills with impression canvas beneath / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA

Applying the back-fills with impression canvas beneath / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA / View full image

Fill texture on the front after weighted drying before facing removal, raking light / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing

Fill texture on the front after weighted drying before facing removal, raking light / Photograph: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

In preparation for restretching the painting, a strip-lining of fine polyester fabric was heat-set onto the perimeter margins of the canvas to support the fills and weakened edges of the work. With this approach the original canvas and artist inscriptions remain visible.

The painting’s original damaged stretcher was well beyond repair, but the conservators were lucky enough to source an unused stretcher of the same size from Bennett’s studio. This allowed consistency to be maintained across both diptych panels. With help from QAGOMA’s Conservation Framing Technician, the bottom member of the new stretcher was substituted with a custom-shaped replacement to allow for careful alignment of the distorted perimeter enabling original fold lines to be retained. This was crucial because the fold lines represented the limit of the painted image.

After restretching, areas of loss were inpainted to match the original surface as closely as possible. In this way, the damaged passages visually recede and the diptych can once again be viewed as the artist intended. All inpainting was done with dry pigments and a reversible water-soluble medium.

Restretching / left – tracing the distorted fold line to enable custom-shaping of the bottom replacement member / right – pinning the work to the stretcher before stapling / Photographs: Anne Carter © QAGOMA

Restretching / left – tracing the distorted fold line to enable custom-shaping of the bottom replacement member / right – pinning the work to the stretcher before stapling / Photographs: Anne Carter © QAGOMA / View full image

Inpainting detail: before treatment (left) raking light; after filling (middle); and after inpainting (right) / Photographs: Madeleine Ewing

Inpainting detail: before treatment (left) raking light; after filling (middle); and after inpainting (right) / Photographs: Madeleine Ewing / View full image

After treatment

It took only two weeks for the termites to inflict their damage to Number three. Thankfully, the infestation was quickly detected and damage was confined to one panel only, illustrating the importance of vigilance and regular monitoring of artwork storage areas.

Following its conservation treatment, Number three was acquired as a gift of Leanne Bennett through the Queensland Art Gallery / Gallery of Modern Art Foundation 2020, donated through the Australian Government’s Cultural Gifts Program. You can see the diptych on display in ‘Unfinished Business: The Art of Gordon Bennett’.

Madeleine Ewing is Graduate Paintings Conservation intern, QAGOMA, working with QAGOMA paintings Conservators Anne Carter and Gillian Osmond.

Number three on display after conservation treatment / Gordon Bennett, Australia 1955-2014 / Number three 2004 / Synthetic polymer paint on linen / Diptych: 152 x 182.5cm (each); 152 x 365cm (overall) / Gift of Leanne Bennett through the Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art Foundation 2020. Donated through the Australian Government’s Cultural Gifts Program / Collection: Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art / © The Estate of Gordon Bennett / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA

Number three on display after conservation treatment / Gordon Bennett, Australia 1955-2014 / Number three 2004 / Synthetic polymer paint on linen / Diptych: 152 x 182.5cm (each); 152 x 365cm (overall) / Gift of Leanne Bennett through the Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art Foundation 2020. Donated through the Australian Government’s Cultural Gifts Program / Collection: Queensland Art Gallery | Gallery of Modern Art / © The Estate of Gordon Bennett / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA / View full image

Gordon Bennett

In his lifetime, Gordon Bennett was widely regarded as one of Queensland’s, and indeed one of Australia’s, most perceptive and inventive contemporary artists. Queensland-born, Bennett (1955–2014) was deeply engaged with questions of identity, perception and the construction of history, and made a profound and ongoing contribution to contemporary art in Australia and internationally.

Bennett voraciously consumed art history, current affairs, rap music and fiction, and processed it all into an unflinching critique of how identities are constituted and how history shapes individual and shared cultural conditions. Working closely with the artist’s estate, the exhibition gives a new sense of Bennett’s aims, ideals and objectives, offering insights through a focus on the serial nature of his practice.

Number three on display in ‘Unfinished Business: The Art of Gordon Bennett’ / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA

Number three on display in ‘Unfinished Business: The Art of Gordon Bennett’ / Photograph: Natasha Harth © QAGOMA / View full image

Featured image: Madeleine Ewing, Graduate Paintings Conservation intern inpainting areas of loss on Gordon Bennett’s Number three 2004

Related Stories

  • Read

    Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec: An astute observer of life

    Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (24 November 1864-1901) moved to Montmartre, Paris in 1882 and was instantly drawn to the city’s demi-monde — famous for its cabarets where people would go to enjoy music, dance, and shows; the cafes and circuses; the racetrack; a place for escape, pleasure, entertainment, and sexual freedom. Montmartre became a part of Paris in 1860, it was an area populated by artists who mostly could not afford the rents of Quartier Latin, but also attracted writers, poets, and performers. Toulouse-Lautrec found his subjects in the fleeting crowds and urban spectacle with the opening of the Moulin Rouge in 1889. Montmartre c.1890 Already passionately fond of drawing, Toulouse-Lautrec was an astute observer of life and a talented drafter. His career coincided with the emergence of modern printmaking and poster production, as well as the emergence of Parisian nightlife and entertainment when the young provincial aristocrat launched himself into the bohemian world of Montmartre. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec ‘Tete de fille (Head of a girl)’ 1892 In a brief and brilliant career of just over a decade, he produced some of the best-known images of Paris and its nightlife in the form of lithographic posters and prints, inspired by the formal elements of traditional Japanese print-making: flat colour surfaces; asymmetrical, cropped compositions; and pronounced outlines. Working en plein air in the manner of the Impressionists, the artist was drawn to the people on the fringes of so-called respectable society. Toulouse-Lautrec rejected the conventional cliché of fallen women, he frequented the brothels and clubs, befriended the women who worked there, and produced a sensitive and profoundly human portrait of their world in a series of lithographs known as ‘Elles’. This oval portrait Tete de fille (Head of a girl) 1892 (illustrated) is one of fifteen the artist made of women who worked at a brothel on the Rue Amboise. Prostitution was a way of life in the ninetheenth century and like Toulouse-Lautrec, the theme was utilised by a number of artists including Edgar Degas (19 July 1834–1917). Toulouse-Lautrec regularly took up residence in brothels, he commented: ‘Brothel. Well, what of it? Nowhere else do I feel more at home…’.
  • Read

    The visible & invisible evidence in Tintoretto’s ‘The risen Christ’

    The collaborative research of curator and conservator can deeply enhance our understanding and evaluation of works of art. The curator seeks to define a works’ art historical and other contexts, provide a reading of its iconography and a description of its stylistic character, while the conservator focuses on the material analysis of the work, interpreting both the seen and unseen evidence of its physical development. Cristo risorgente (The risen Christ) (illustrated) by Jacopo Tintoretto (1518-94) depicts Christ rising from his tomb, triumphant over death and illuminated by a rising sun. The staff in Christ’s left hand holds up a banner celebrating the resurrection, while his right hand delivers a gesture of blessing or benediction to the awakening soldier. In its original church setting — likely as an altarpiece placed above the faithful — the foreshortened figure of Christ would have delivered an even more dramatic sense of the miracle of life defeating death. Tintoretto is one of the masters of the Venetian Renaissance, although he painted portraits of eminent Venetians, he was best known for his religious works, many of which were commissioned by churches. Tintoretto ‘Cristo risorgente’ c.1555 Tintoretto is a prominent figure within the history of sixteenth-century art. Principally self-taught, he is said to have spent a short time under Titian (1488–1576) and, later, Schiavone (1510/15–1563). One of the earliest critical commentaries on Tintoretto occurs in a letter from Pietro Aretino (1492-1556). Aretino admonished Tintoretto for his fa presto (his speed of execution) and his lack of ‘finish’. The biographer, Ridolfi (1594–1658), who published a life of Tintoretto in 1642, described the artist’s working method in considerable detail, noting that he kept a motto fixed to his easel: II disegno di Michaelangelo ed il colorito di Tiziano (The design of Michaelangelo and the colour of Titian), one to which he evidently held fast as he worked on Cristo risorgente (The risen Christ). We know from Ridolfi that Tintoretto: ‘trained himself also by concocting in wax and clay small figures which he dressed in scraps of cloth, attentively studying the folds of the cloth on the outlines of the limbs. He also placed some of the figures in little houses, and in perspective scenes made of wood and cardboard, and, by means of little lamps, he contrived for the windows he introduced therein lights and shadows.’ Tintoretto chose to work in a studio that admitted little natural light studying, drawing and painting from these small and dramatically illuminated modellos. Ridolfi continues: ‘He also hung some models by threads to the roof beams to study the appearance they made when seen from below, and, to get the foreshortening of figures for ceilings, creating by such methods bizarre effects, or capricci (capricious effects). Through such means Tintoretto was able to build the dramatic narrative and theatrical force of his paintings. The original size of the composition can be reconstructed by closely examining an X-radiograph of the painting (illustrated). The structure of the current wooden stretcher can be seen in the X-radiograph, which probably dates from when the painting was last lined during the nineteenth century. Two sets of handmade tacks suggests that the painting has been lined twice on this stretcher. A row of 1cm diameter holes, spaced about every 10-12cm down the left edge of the painting, relate to the original method of stretching, probably by means of lacing. X-radiograph of ‘Cristo risorgente’ An impression of the original stretcher can also be seen from the X- radiograph, showing a structure with corner braces. Extrapolating from these impressions assists conjecture on the original size of the painting. It seems apparent that the work has been trimmed, losing approximately 2cm from the left and bottom edges (about the amount one might expect to lose in the course of a glue lining), approximately 4 to 5cm from the top edge and as much as 8 to 9cm from the right. The painting’s original dimensions would, therefore, have been approximately 206cm high x 148cm wide. Ridolfi also delineates the role of drawing in Tintoretto’s work: ‘He set himself to draw the living model in all sorts of attitudes which he endowed with the grace of movement, drawing from them an endless variety of foreshortenings. Sometimes he dissected corpses in order to study the arrangement of the muscles, so as to combine his observation of sculpture with his study of nature. Taking from the first its formal beauty and from the second unity and delicacy.’ X-radiography, infrared examination and cross-sectional analysis have revealed that Cristo risorgente underwent numerous changes in its compositional structure. Drawing played an important role throughout, from charcoal drawing on white gesso, lead white on brown imprimatura, to lines drawn in the final surface. Pigments bound in (presumably) linseed oil were also used inventively. For example, very large clusters of lead white were bound in the azurite and ultramarine blues of the sky. These would catch the flickering candlelight in the painting’s chapel setting, to create a shimmering, silvery dawn sky. Pigments used in The Resurrection were consistent with the sixteenth-century palette and included lead white, azurite, ultramarine, (probably) ultramarine ash, copper resinate-type green glazes, green earth, various red lake pigments such as cochineal, red lead, red and yellow ochres, charcoal black and bone black. From the six cross- sections analysed, no lead-tin yellow was found. Evidence of the initial idea for the composition can be seen in infrared where the charcoal drawing on gesso suggests an initial tomb position in the mid-ground, perhaps similar to a version of this theme by Domenico Tintoretto (Gallerie dell’Accademia, Venice). This original tomb position was actually painted in brown before having the background landscape painted over it, and this shows through in many areas. The brown used in this area is comprised of palette scrapings. It is suggested that this general brown underpaint is the imprimatura on some of Tintoretto’s later works, produced by scraping off the...