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How to Keep Kinetic Art Moving | Conservation Lab

Modern art conservator Lydia Beerkens prevents kinetic artworks from becoming still lives.
Image de Une : Jean Tinguely, Gismo, 1960. Photo : Gert Jan van Rooij. Collection Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, c/o Pictoright Amsterdam, 2016.

When kinetic art goes in for a tune-up, the mechanic may not get called in right away: Prior to action, there's a lot of talk. It's not simply about whether or not the object can be fixed, but whether it should. Is it too fragile for treatment? Will running the motor for long periods of time cause too much damage? And how essential is motion anyway—does this particular work still have meaning in its frozen state? "A fountain sculpture by Niki de Saint Phalle should preferably spray water, but the sculptures are really colorful and can speak for themselves," says Dutch modern art conservator Lydia Beerkens. "But kinetic multiples in boxes and reliefs, and lumino-kinetic works by Gruppo T (Grazia Varisco, Gianni Colombo…) more often really need the kinetic element to function, because otherwise one only sees a black frame or box."

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Struttura Tricroma, a 1963 work by Gruppo T's Giovanni Anceschi (1939-) made with an electric motor.

After thorough research and deliberation, conservators can establish a game plan in concert with curators. In comparison to this preliminary phase, though, "the final, actual treatment can often be a short intervention," comments Beerkens. After cleaning, retouching, and documenting the work as per their training, conservators bring in the other required experts: mechanics and electricians who can fix motors and broken connections.

Woody van Amen's Sex Bomb, with back mechanism at right. Lydia Beerkens repaired the work with the help of a cycle mechanic, but the motor was too weak to run for hours at a time—so it only ran for five-minute daily intervals during an exhibition.

Beerkens lectures internationally on the conservation of kinetic art, and has studied and conserved several artworks by Jean Tinguely, Woody van Amen, Martha Boto, László Moholy-Nagy, and Marta Pan, to name just a few. In preparation for the Jean Tinguely retrospective that opened earlier this month at the Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, she was a member of the committee of experts who advised on the conservation of the machines. The results of her prior study on Tinguely's Gismo were published in the 1999 book Modern Art: Who Cares?, and the article yields insight into the many subtle qualities that conservators must carefully consider when treating a work: "The machine was supposed to look rickety and wobble when it moved: it had always been this way—the roughly welded rods should grate and squeak on un-greased bearings," it reads. So one has to think twice before greasing those wheels: making the machine work "better" is not necessarily the end goal.

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In Gismo's case, those squeaks are an essential element to preserve not only because it's "always been this way," but because they so profoundly affect the viewer's experience. Beerkens' study recorded the impressions of a focus group that credited the expressiveness of the object to its "sprightly impression," to its "improvised and immediate, personal character," and to those characteristic sounds. "One feels inclined to identify with the work as if it is a living thing," commented one observer.

Exhibition "Rörelse i konsten" in the Moderna Museet, Stockholm, 1961, with Jean Tinguely's Le Cyclograveur (1960). Photo: Lennart Olson, c/o Pictoright Amsterdam, 2016

The study concluded that "Gismo has to move, otherwise it does not 'live,'" and luckily, its 31 wheels are spinning away—at least sporadically—at the Stedelijk today. Other kinetic works aren't so fortunate, however. If an object is too fragile, or if parts cannot be repaired or replaced, it goes into retirement. In some cases, replicas (that are often, in Beerkens' words, "widow-approved or foundation-approved") can be produced and exhibited—such is the case with the Tate's Standing Wave sculpture by Naum Gabo, for example. And if video of the functional object is available, a work can be exhibited as a static relic, alongside those recorded memories of its past life.

Watch several kinetic artworks in action below:

Davide Boriani's Magnetic Surface, a 1959 kinetic work triggered manually. Filmed by www.reprogrammed-art.cc

Giovanni Anceschi (1939-), Percorsi fluidi, 1961. Various materials, liquid. Courtesy of M&L Fine Art

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Martha Boto, Deplacements Optiques, 1968. Video by Luis Moure

You can learn more about the Jean Tinguely retrospective at the Stedelijk Museum here, and see clips of his machines in motion here.

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