Carol Petravage has what antique lovers would consider a dream job. She’s a treasure hunter. Her latest finds include a 14th century Chinese Ming celadon censer (an ornamental incense burner) and an ornately carved 19th century French bracket. As part of a team of staff curators for the Harpers Ferry National Park Service’s Division of Historic Furnishings, Petravage researches appropriate furnishings for historic structures and then acquires the period artifacts and reproductions that will be used in these exhibits. So whether you’re visiting Abraham Lincoln’s Springfield parlor or The National Prisoner of War Museum in Andersonville, Georgia, the furnishings and exhibits you see have probably at one time or another been handled by the Harpers Ferry team. These experts provide national parks with services that include research, planning, acquisition, installation and post-installation support.
The hunt
Petravage’s latest project is Gray Towers, the late 19th century home of Gifford Pinchot, located in Milford, Pennsylvania. Pinchot (1865-1946) was an American conservationist and politician. Working from historic photographs, Petravage carefully studies the home’s interiors and creates a “want list” of furnishings and decorative accessories before beginning her treasure hunt. Based upon an appraised value of the items, she searches for exact replacements at antique shows. She also asks for assistance from many of her experienced contacts. “We all have our niches and help each other out.”
In the case of Gray Towers, Petravage’s quest has included items such as Italian lanterns, a Federal drop leaf table, a dome document box, an empire-style sofa, an elaborate candelabra, and even a moose head complete with large rack of antlers. And this is just a partial list of one room’s contents. Petravage is in charge of five of the home’s historically furnished rooms.
“What’s your best price?” Petravage inquires when – Bingo! – she finds a perfect replacement piece. Although she is not using her own money, the art of the deal is very important, and Petravage has learned to dicker. She also has learned the thrill of the hunt, and gets a definite sense of satisfaction from an acquisition.
The rescue
Judy Bischoff, a research chemist, carefully examines a Civil War era bronze belt buckle using infrared spectroscopy. She’s looking at the corrosion material to find out whether the corrosion is active or passive. She has just finished determining the original color of the First African Baptist Church on Cumberland Island in Georgia by looking through the various colors of the submitted paint chip. She gets to the bottom layer and finds out that the original color was gray. She realizes that the small Georgian community around the church might not be pleased with her findings – most people like to think of a crisp bright white on an old wood frame church. But if they want to be historically correct, this one’s gray. Bischoff sighs and smiles, remembering the time that she had to inform a group that the original colors of their 1880’s barber shop were lime green, orange and greenish black.
Bischoff belongs to the team of expert scientists specializing in paper, fabric and wood conservation. These highly trained conservators study artifacts to determine original quality, to arrest any further deterioration and to guide curators on conditions that must be maintained to secure the welfare of the exhibits. Sometimes restoration is involved.
This team has seen artifacts ranging from George Washington’s campaign tent to John Wilkes Booth’s diary which describes Booth being “chased through the night like a dog.”
In today’s Antiques Roadshow mindset, the artifacts beg the question “how much are these things worth?” A question that makes Martin Burke, NPS Associate Manager of Conservation and former conservation manager of the Smithsonian, visibly uncomfortable. Explaining that these cultural documents have a high association value and are quite important to society doesn’t answer the monetary question. But Burke says that “it’s almost a conflict of interest (for a conservator) to think of value in terms of a pricetag.”
Tattered textiles, ornately carved dark wooden furniture, yellowed paper decorated with a fretwork of elaborately embellished script -- all gently placed amid modern high tech equipment in a sterile environment. Some rooms are darker than others, some downright frigid. All in an effort to protect history.
Some of the items have almost a “religious power to them,” says Burke. When asked which items he has personally responded to the most, he refers to the makeshift diaries written by POW’s that are now exhibited in the Prisoner of War Museum in Andersonville, Georgia. The prisoners’ accounts are written on the backs of cigarette labels, any paper product they could get their hands on. These, in Burke’s experience, have been the “most powerful objects in the sense of evoking a response to the story.” That’s the value – either the emotional response of certain items such as the POW diaries, or the high association significance such as George Washington’s inaugural coat.
Al Levitan, conservator of furniture and wooden artifacts, recalls a shaving mirror from Abraham Lincoln’s home as his most emotional piece. The mirror was one of several Lincoln pieces that the Harpers Ferry staff worked on. “Looking into that mirror and thinking of Lincoln looking into that same mirror was moving.”
Levitan’s job can be moving, intriguing and sometimes downright humorous. He remembers a Santo – a saint figure – that was temporarily in his charge. It was presented to his team as Saint Joseph, complete with beard, mustache and masculine cloak. But high-tech x-rays revealed that the statue had originally been a wasp-waisted female figure with very feminine facial features.
One of the 1,400 projects that the historic furnishings laboratory currently houses is the moose head from Gray Towers. Its problem is a typical problem that the staff faces when dealing with many of their fabric pieces – bugs. Pest control is a common issue here. Combating carpet beetles and other microscopic organisms without hurting the fabric means traditional methods of extermination, e.g., spray, are off-limits. So what do they do? “We freeze to kill,” says Burke. “You don’t want (the bugs) to be dining on museum exhibits.” Rapid freezing and warming is essential so that the pests don’t just go into a state of hibernation.
So the Gray Towers moose head sits wrapped in layers of plastic in a cool, dark room amid corroded military accoutrements, water damaged Victorian-era furniture, yellowed documents. Hundreds of exhibit casualties waiting to be nursed back to health and respectability. Waiting to tell their stories.
