A complex set of issues surrounds the competing demands of the preservation and use of cultural objects. Conservation and restoration are the two regimens followed in the care of such objects: conservation seeks the preservation of the status quo, and restoration seeks a return to working condition. The physical operation of any historic resource incurs maintenance, wear of moving parts, and the eventual replacement of components. Bringing a historic musical instrument into playing condition, and continuing its use, therefore becomes a source of contention when the processes and materials employed might mask or obliterate information on the original state of the instrument or its subsequent use. It is a tenet of museum practice that objects be preserved in the state in which they were acquired, and that intervention changing their condition be kept to a minimum. However, as musical instruments are among the most highly dynamic, interactive and evocative of artefacts, conserving them in a non-playing condition excludes the possibility of exploring their original intended function as producers of sound. Although the philosophies of conservation and restoration appear, therefore, to be polarized, it is nevertheless a mistake to assume that they share no common values. The ultimate intention of both is to ensure the continued existence of cultural resources; it is only in the methods adopted that differences of approach arise.
Conservation of musical instruments encompasses all attempts to arrest decay, stabilize structures, surfaces and components, and maintain intact as much of the original material of the instrument as possible. Its objective is to preserve instruments unaltered for both present and future generations. Conservation practices employ as little intervention as possible, requiring that, wherever feasible, materials applied to an instrument can be removed later without harm. Damaged parts are removed and replaced only where sufficient structural justification exists, or where the parts are clearly spurious and detract from or confuse the instrument’s information yield. All removed parts are accurately and completely labelled and kept either with the instrument or with its accompanying documentation. Much attention is paid to the condition of surfaces since they may elucidate previous phases of use: marks of wear are evocative of playing styles; indentations around hitchpins provide clues on earlier stringing; tool marks allow interpretation of manufacturing techniques; previous repairs and alterations give insight into weaknesses and design changes.
A large part of the conservation effort is focussed on the object’s surroundings because the stability and longevity of materials is related directly to the natural forces that impinge upon them. Environmental conditions conducive to the preservation of musical instruments include stable levels of relative humidity and temperature, low light levels, absence of pollutants and biological agents, and control of the many causes of physical change. Understanding the impact of the environment, and its monitoring and control, are key functions in conservation.
The practice of conservation is highly documentary. The condition of instruments, ongoing changes to them and features of their construction and past use are all recorded. Any proposal for treatment must be set out systematically in writing, with accompanying photographs or drawings, and approved by a second party to provide a system of checks and balances. Wide consultation during the formulation of treatment proposals is advocated. Treatment is recorded in such a way that both present and future scholars will have a clear understanding of what was done, how and why. Complete documentation minimizes repeated examination, which might cause damage; thus many museums have commissioned technical drawings of their more popular holdings. Advances in technology have provided a variety of new techniques. Photography and radiography are well established. The newer resources of electronic documentation allow precise measurement of such features as the width of bores and the thickness of components, the recording of acoustic spectra, and the analysis of materials and their condition. Advances in database management allow swift access to records and the compilation of comparative data.
Like the museum profession from which it emerged, conservation is supported by codes of ethics. However, the comparatively small number of practitioners worldwide precludes the systems of peer review and accountability encountered in the larger and more organized professions. The codes of ethics for conservation therefore provide guidance for practice, rather than enforceable rules of conduct. There is no code of ethics specific to the conservation treatment of musical instruments because the conservation profession regards them as no different in essence from the many other functional objects encountered in museums, and for which similar strictures concerning intervention apply.
The chief criticism of the conservation regimen, when applied throughout a collection, is that it silences instruments whose chief function is the production of musical sounds. This is offset by the emphasis on documentation, examination, analysis and preservation, which ensures that information embodied within the instruments remains intact and is accessible to scholars.
The aim of restoration is the return of instruments to playable condition so that their music-making function can be fully expressed and exploited. Restoration demands research into historical workshop techniques, an understanding of the materials of construction, and a knowledge of contemporary musical practices. It is essential that the restorer be trained in a variety of manual and mechanical production techniques, experienced in dealing with a wide range of raw materials, and fully conversant with the manufacture of the instruments under treatment. The documentation of treatment has become an important part of restoration, not necessarily as an emulation of museum practice, but rather with the more direct aim of recording and disseminating the increasingly intricate and sophisticated information derived from it.
It has been argued that much of what has been learnt about the historical techniques of musical instrument making has been derived from examinations conducted during the processes of restoration. This is especially true of keyboard instruments, which are very complex. Through disassembling an instrument, repairing and refurbishing it, and then bringing it back into peak working condition, insights and technical information are gained. But restoration practices are necessarily invasive, original joints are taken apart, weakened parts are strengthened, missing parts are reconstructed, and parts that no longer function are replaced. Thus, the yield of information derived from a restoration treatment must always be balanced by the net loss of integrity to the object itself.
Restorative treatment should be carried out only if its goals are very clearly established, and if a complete understanding of the original state of the instrument exists. An argument against restoration is that, as the acquisition of information is a cumulative process, a definitive understanding of any previous historical state can never be achieved. Thus, a treatment will always be based upon the best information available at the time, and as treatment is without exception irreversible, a permanent change of state will be imposed on the instrument. It is, indeed, possible to discern stages of fashion in the restoration of musical instruments, and a practitioner well versed in workshop techniques and practices can identify easily the period in which a particular piece of restoration work was done. A second argument against restoration lies in the lack of reliability of the results. As artefacts age their materials change inexorably by the processes of natural decay, while over time they are also transformed by human use. Because it is impossible to quantify these factors, the difference in performance between the instrument in its newly made state, and in the state following its deterioration and subsequent restoration, must remain obscure. And the more mechanically complex the instrument, the less reliable will be the information gained after its restoration. Thus the chief argument in favour of restoration, that of returning the instrument’s original voice and action, loses much of its persuasiveness.
The restoration of unique and previously unrestored early instruments was, at the end of the 20th century, becoming a thing of the past. Scholars had recognized the extent and value of information contained in unrestored instruments, and the news that a well-known early example was to be worked upon was greeted with consternation and alarm, in contrast to the anticipation and excitement of a few decades earlier. This change of attitude was occasioned by the realization that the majority of accessible early instruments had been subjected to much more manipulation in the previous few decades than at any time in their previous history, and that they were, indeed, a diminishing and non-renewable resource. Also, it was then agreed that enough was known of early instrument-making techniques that little of sufficient value could be added during a restoration.
In some collections a compromise position was often achieved whereby previously restored instruments, whose fund of technical information could already be said to be devalued, continued to be played under strictly controlled conditions. In this way musicians and scholars unfamiliar with the sound and feel of early instruments could have the experience of playing them, although it is impossible to state categorically that any information on a particular instrument’s original sound and dynamics could be gained in this way. The impact of playing such an instrument is purely aesthetic and very personal.
It is generally recognized that the aim of attempting to capture elements of particular musical instrument’s original disposition is better served by making an accurate copy. There has been much discussion over what constitutes an ‘accurate’ copy of an early instrument, and it is now generally agreed that an ‘accurate’ copy is an aspiration, not a goal. Organic substances in particular behave in unpredictable ways and some materials available to makers of earlier periods are unobtainable today. Also, standards of measurement and limitations of accuracy ensure that the original and the copy will differ. But beyond these physical limitations is a conceptual problem: the modern maker is not striving to emulate what exists now, but what existed at the time of manufacture. Thus, there is inevitably a degree of theorization, experimentation and trial and error in the process. Making a good working copy is as much a developmental process as the restoration of an original, with the obvious advantages that the original retains its documentary value and the cost of failure is more supportable.
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ROBERT BARCLAY