As a conservator working with each of these artists, the sometimes conflicting working methods and points of perspective were a challenge to manage while remaining flexible.  Conservators work within a set of principles, such as light is damaging too many artworks, handling should be kept to a minimum, and the interior environment can often be hazardous to the preservation of artifacts.  Conservators need to have great hand skills, have an attention to detail, be creative problem solvers, and above all else, respect the object.  Artists work within another set of principles.  Everything is significant, details matter, experience must be illuminated, and all objects and materials can be put towards this purpose.  Creativity is grand and ever changing and needs continuous feeding.

Do you see how there could be some conflict here?

Many of the period rooms were installed in the 1950’s and 60’s when museum best practices were much less formulated than they are today.  The condition of the objects having been on continuous display since that time are often fragile and unknown as museum condition records were not what they are today.  The first step in preparing for the installation was to get an overall plan from each artist as to what their intervention into the rooms would be.   What did I say about creativity being grand and ever changing?  The Curators did their best to wrangle broad concepts from the artists, and the Registrars compiled lists of the items coming and did their best to make sure that everything arrived safely and was accounted for.

Mary Lucier works with her team to film in the Dining Room of the Nicholas Schenck House.

The installation worked a bit differently for each artist.  Mary Lucier with a video component needed access to the Schenck rooms well in advance of the other artists.  The challenge was to prepare the rooms, and safeguard the collection while having actors, props, and the artist filming within the often cramped and tightly installed space.   The plan of what to film was fluid and responsive to events as they happened.  This meant that the conservator working with the artist needed to also be fluid and responsive to allow space for creativity while setting appropriate limits and boundaries.

Betty Woodman works with art handlers to install her ceramics in the Hall of the Cupola House.

Betty Woodman and Ann Chu proved challenging in that it was impossible to know which collection objects would work well with the artist’s objects until the artist arrived and began to arrange in each room; Cane Acres, Rockefeller, Russell, Cupola, Worgelt, and two dioramas.  The difficulty was assessing on the spot whether a collection object could safely interact with the artist’s object.  Is that vase too heavy for this piece of furniture?  Is the ceramic cup stable on the period table?

Anne Chu works with art handlers to install her work in the Moorish Room of the John D. Rockefeller House.

Ann Agee’s was the most labor intensive installation.  The artist made several pre-visits to the Milligan rooms as part of formulating what she wanted to transform the room into.  Discussions about what was and was not impossible to remove from the room were fruitful.  The compromises fed the creative process.  With this installation, Ann much like a conservator had to be a creative problem solver too.

Ann Agee works with art handlers to install her work in the Library and Drawing Room of the Milligan House.

I think the experience in the end was fruitful for all and that the activations spark new illuminations on your experience.

A future blog post will take a more detailed look at the different projects and a behind-the-scenes look at their installations, but first we want to reach out to our online community on behalf of one of the participating artists, Mary Lucier. She is descended from a Dutch family from the same 17^th century colonial period as the original occupants of the Brooklyn Museum’s Schenck Houses, where her works will be installed. For part of her project, Lucier wants to add a few new branches to her family tree.  If you are a Brooklynite from WAY back, Mary Lucier wants to hear from you:

Joris Jansen de Rapalje and Catalyntje Trico and…you?

During the 1600s and 1700s, severe persecution and even massacres by Catholics, forced many Huguenots (French Protestants) to leave Europe for what was then “New Netherland,” an area including Manhattan, Brooklyn, and land farther up the Hudson River.  Included in this migration were numerous Dutch families as well, and as they established life in various colonies, they began to intermarry.

The Terpenning family, Dryden, New York area, c. 1895. Sarah Rapalje's 6th and 7th great grandchildren. Photograph courtesy of Drew Campbell.

In 1624, a young refugee couple, both around 19 years old, left Amsterdam aboard the Eendracht, bound for New York harbor.  Their names were Joris Jansen de Rapalje and Catalyntje Trico.  Upon arriving in New York, they sailed up river to found a new colony, which would eventually become Albany.  After hardships and skirmishes with the Mohawks, the Rapaljes decided to return to New York two years later, settling in Wallabout, an area in what is now Brooklyn. They brought with them an infant girl named Sarah, reputed to be the first European child born in New Netherland (1625).

Sarah married twice (once to Hans Hansen Bergen, who died at age 27, and then to Teunis Bogeart) and had a total of 15 children, setting in motion a vast lineage of descendants that includes Humphrey Bogart, Tom Brokaw, Gov. Howard Dean, myself, and possibly you!  By now there are estimated to be at least a million descendants of these lines, many of whom may know little about their Dutch/Huguenot ancestry and nothing about the people to which they are purportedly related.

For my “activation” in the Schenck Houses of the Museum’s Period Rooms, I will create a mixed-media video and sound environment that will investigate the subject of cultural identity through a personal exploration of my own ancestry, using recorded performances in situ, references to literature and other historic texts (including various family trees such as the Schencks), and audience participation.

To that end, I am appealing to all Rapaljes, Rapeljes, Raplees, and all descendants (regardless of the name) to send me information that I may use in my museum installation.  Please let me know your particular connection or line of descent and please send a high-quality photograph (tiffs or jpegs only please; I can’t use or return original prints) of yourself, your grandparents, family groups, whoever you like, for me to display on the mantel in one of the Museum’s period rooms.  Please also indicate that you give me, Mary Lucier, and the Brooklyn Museum, permission to use these photos for this purpose.

Please send all material to marluc@aol.com.

Left: American. Wainscot Chair, second half 17th century. Painted oak, 48 1/8 x 26 3/4 x 23 1/2 in. (122.2 x 67.9 x 59.7 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Dick S. Ramsay Memorial Fund, 51.158.  Right: Replica chair created for the Brooklyn Museum by Peter Follansbee, joiner.

Mr. Follansbee visited the Museum in March of this year to examine the chair and take measurements.  His goal:  accurately recreate the work of 17^th-century craftsmen, whose techniques can be observed on the chair in details like original handmade pins and joiner’s marks on the legs.

Detail of original hand carved pins and joiner’s marks from the original.

Details of the replica chair during construction at Peter Follansbee’s workshop. Images courtesy of Peter Follansbee.

While Mr. Follansbee started replicating the chair, conservators began an examination to determine the original paint scheme.  Although many of these chairs are now painted black or other dark colors, it is unlikely that this was done by the original craftsmen.  We wanted the completed replica chair to accurately reflect what the original would have looked like before centuries of use.

Several paint samples were taken from various locations on the chair and made into cross-sections.  Cross-sections are an important tool for conservators, allowing us to view the different paint layers and coatings and the order in which they were applied to the surface.  Paint samples are mounted in resin, polished and examined with a polarized light microscope.

The cross-sections revealed that the chair had received several applications of paint and varnish.  The earliest paint layers appeared to be a bright red and a darker brown followed by multiple applications of the black paint. Red paint was also observed underneath the black paint on the surface of the chair.  Natural resin varnishes, which appear green under ultraviolet light illumination, are also visible as later applications in the cross-sections.

Left: Detail of paint cross-section in visible light from the back of the chair showing the lowest red and brown paint layers, followed by multiple layers of varnish and black paint.  Right: Detail of paint cross -section in ultraviolet light from the back of the chair showing the lowest red and brown paint layers, followed by multiple layers of varnish (which appear bright white/green) and black paint.

According to Chief Curator, Kevin Stayton, and Curator of Decorative Arts, Barry Harwood, these chairs could have been painted or left unpainted after manufacture.  In addition, painted surfaces may have been applied shortly after construction but not by the craftsmen who built them and reflect the history and use of the chair.  Although the earliest application of paint is red, it could not be determined when this layer was applied.

Following a discussion between conservators, curators and Mr. Follansbee, the replica chair was not painted.  We hope that the contrast between the natural and wonderfully hand carved oak of the replica and the patinated original will highlight the intricacy of the handcrafted details, create a closer representation of the chair’s original appearance and accentuate the historic changes that objects such as the Wainscot chair can undergo before entering the Museum’s collection. The replica chair has been coated with oil & turpentine to protect the wood so that it can be appreciated by Museum visitors.

Newly on view on our 4th floor: Italian Post-World War II Design

The Brooklyn Museum has been at the forefront of collecting Italian twentieth century design since the mid 1950s. One pivotal event made consumers in the United States aware of the diversity and accomplishments of modern Italian design and initiated the collecting of this material at the Museum—the exhibition Italy at Work, which traveled to twelve venues between 1950 and 1954. The exhibition was initiated by the Art Institute of Chicago in partnership with two organizations devot­ed to the promulgation of Italian design, Handicraft Development Incorporated in the United States and its corresponding institution in Italy, CADMA. Italy at Work included hundreds of objects by more than 150 artisans and manufacturers and featured furniture, ceramics, glass, textiles, metalwork, jewelry, shoes, knit clothing, and industrial design. The exhibition opened at the Brooklyn Museum, and at its conclusion, when the objects were dispersed among the host institutions, the lion’s share, more than two hun­dred items, came to the Museum.

Carlo Mollino (Italian, 1905-1973). Table, circa 1949. Made by F. Apelli and L. Varesio, Turin. Laminated wood, glass, brass. Gift of the Italian Government, 54.64.321 a-c.

Some of the objects on view here have not been seen since 1954 when Italy at Work closed, such as the mosaic by Gino Severini and the table by Paolo di Poli. In addition, some of the more recently acquired works are having their debut Museum installation here as well, such as the chairs by Alberto Meda, Ettore Sottsass, Jr., and Joe Columbo.

Ettore Sottsass, Jr.  (Italian, b. Austria, 1917-2007). “Casablanca” Cabinet, designed 1981. Manufactured by Memphis. Milan. Wood, plastic laminate. Gift of Furniture of the 20th Century, 83.104.

Museum libraries and archives are rich storehouses of textual and visual information. This is very true of the Brooklyn Museum Libraries and Archives which function as the “story tellers” of the Museum by providing histories about objects in the collection of the Brooklyn Museum. Hidden within the Libraries and Archives are a myriad of stories concerning the Schenck houses, which were recently renovated and reinstalled on the fourth floor of the Museum.

Photograph by Reverend William Edward Schenck. From Account of my trips to Holmdel, N.J. & Flatlands, L.I. by William Edward Schenck.

One can find several fascinating books, photographs and other documents in the Libraries and Archives that tell about the Schenck family and the houses they lived in. Highlights include photographs from the Historic American Building Survey and an original journal by Jane Malbone Schenck who wrote about what her life was like in Brooklyn in the 1800’s. A selection of these documents are currently on view in the Library display cases on the second floor of the Museum.

These documents are of great interest to many, including architectural historians of Brooklyn who want to know what Brooklyn looked like when the Schenck houses were built more than 330 years ago. These documents tell us about the houses, the transfer of owners and families and the re-emerging of the architecture through refurbishments and significant structural transformations. The photographs tell us about the transformation of the surrounding landscape from sweeping meadows to a Brooklyn neighborhood. They also provide evidence of how the houses have looked as they have been installed at the Brooklyn Museum.

Jan Martense Schenck House reinstallation. Brooklyn Museum Archives. Records of the Department of Decorative Arts.
Exhibitions: Schenck House reinstallation, 1971.

2008 is the 185th anniversary of the founding of this institution as a library (the Brooklyn Apprentice’s Library) and we are planning a series of talks about the history of the Library and the rare and unique collections held in this repository. We will be focusing on the materials related to the Schenck family in this upcoming series. Please email us at library@brooklynmuseum.org if you would like to know more about the talk or Schenck related materials in the Libraries and Archives.

For a complete history on the Schenck Houses, see Kevin Stayton’s book, Dutch by design : tradition and change in two historic Brooklyn houses : the Schenck houses at The Brooklyn Museum, available in the Museum Libraries. Additional installation images of the Schenck house can be found in our online exhibition index.

These slides show the Jan Martense Schenck House as it is being installed in its new location on the 4th floor. In the first few slides, you see the side view of the Nicholas Schenck House, grandson of Jan Martense.

The first step was to lay out the floor boards on a new substructure The boards were originally white pine (Pinus Strobus).

The next step was to erect the posts and braces that form the structure of the walls. These were made from oak (Quercus).

The posts (vertical elements) and beams (horizontal elements) were joined with mortise and tenons that were pinned.

Rigging and scaffolding was used to lift and position the very heavy timbers.

After the wooden sub-structure was built, the interior walls and window frames were inserted.

The attic floor is held up by supports called H bends.

Because the ceiling in the new gallery is higher than its former gallery , a new roof substructure had to be built, matching the pitch of the original roof.

Because of the new height, new roof shingles needed to be added and painted to match the shingles from the 1960 installation.

After paint cross section analysis and on advise of the Curatorial Department, the house was painted red, including the trim as would have been the convention in the 17th c.

Lisa Bruno
Objects Conservator

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John has also provided several web resources:

Old Dutch Houses of Brooklyn, Maud Esther Dillard (Brooklyn, 1945)

Lefferts Historic House (Prospect Park Website)

The Wyckoff House Museum

Lott House Restoration and Information

In my own travels on the web for this project, I noticed that Christopher Gray wrote this article for the New York Times about John and his house:

Streetscapes/2138 McDonald Avenue, Brooklyn; Preserving a Sense of Dutch Heritage in Gravesend

The Brooklyn Museum Schenck houses are now open! Catch what Carol Vogel has to say in the New York Times.

The Brooklyn Museum’s Schenck family houses have had a profound personal effect on me. In 1990, I was the editor for a book on the Schenck houses called Dutch by Design, written by curator Kevin Stayton. I found that book and the houses it was about so fascinating that I not only taught myself Dutch but I also wound up buying an old Dutch Brooklyn farmhouse of my own.

The book had five chapters. Kevin had countless fascinating illustrations lined up for chapters 1,2, 4, and 5, the chapters dealing specifically with the houses themselves. But almost no illustrations were planned for the middle chapter, a general history of the Dutch in Brooklyn. I suggested that we find Dutch houses still standing out in the streets of Brooklyn and use photos of them as illustrations. “Sure,” said Kevin. “Go knock yourself out.”

Finding the houses was not as difficult as it might seem. A book published in 1945, Old Dutch Houses of Brooklyn by Maud Esther Dillard, provided pictures and addresses of all the Dutch Brooklyn houses standing then, and I had only to see if they were still there. Most, sadly, were gone, but some, miraculously, had survived—and in the strangest places.

Hubbard House, circa 1915

Take 2138 McDonald Ave., the so-called Hubbard House, an 1830 Dutch farmhouse down under the elevated tracks of the F train in Gravesend. There, in 1990, I met Theresa Lucchelli, a wonderful cat-fancying former cocktail waitress who had lived in the house since 1904 and remembered Gravesend as a rural paradise. I asked her if was okay with her if I approached the Landmarks Commission about making the house a landmark. “Sure,” she said. “Go knock yourself out.”

Hubbard House, 2002. Compared to the 1915 photo, the house looks somewhat different. The lean-to on the left side in the photo of 1915 had a second story added to it in 1924.

Theresa died at the age of 95 in 1997, and the Landmarks Commission never has done right by her house. But after her death I bought and renovated the place with help of a private group known as the New York Landmarks Conservancy, and now I sometimes sit by the fire there of an evening as the F train rumbles past and reflect that I owe it all to the Schenck family houses at the Brooklyn Museum.