Examination of painting verso under microscope.

When I decided to pursue a career in art conservation, I wasn’t just signing up to fix paintings—I was choosing to become a steward of history. There’s something extraordinary about breathing life back into a work of art, peeling back the layers of time to uncover the artist’s original vision. These paintings hold so much more than their surface beauty; they carry stories, knowledge, and the essence of the world they were created in. Keeping them alive is my way of honoring the past and ensuring future generations can learn from these incredible artifacts.

The Artist’s Perspective

Rhiannon Piper, Rembrandt Self Portrait Master's Copy, Unfinished (close up).

Having a background in Fine Art is like having a secret key to understanding paintings on a deeper level. As an artist, I know the materials inside and out—the pigments, the binders, the textures—and I can imagine the decisions the painter made with every stroke. It’s like solving a puzzle but with the advantage of knowing how the pieces were crafted. This perspective helps me appreciate the artistry while unraveling its challenges. And let’s not forget the steady hands—years of painting have definitely helped when working on fragile surfaces or cleaning tiny details!

Falling in Love with Conservation

What I love most about conservation is the detective work. Every painting comes with its own mysteries—why is the paint cracking here? What caused this discoloration? Is this original to the painting? When was this even painted? These questions keep me on my toes, and finding the answers feels incredibly rewarding.

Of course, it’s not all smooth sailing. There’s so much to learn, and the sheer volume of information can be overwhelming. Conservation blends art, science, and history, and many topics are completely new to me. But honestly, that’s part of the excitement. Diving into a subject I’m passionate about makes the long hours of research and writing feel worthwhile.

A Peek Into My Daily Life

My days start early—usually around 6 AM—with a workout to clear my mind and energize me for the day. After breakfast, I head out to the studio, where workshops typically run from 9 AM to 4:30 PM. These are intense days, packed with presentations, hands-on practice, and self-guided work. For example, a recent workshop focused on aqueous cleaning solutions. We learned how to adjust pH levels, use chelating agents, and even harness the power of surfactants to clean paintings. It’s a lot to wrap your head around, but it’s also oddly therapeutic—there’s something satisfying about rolling tiny swabs across a canvas, even if it does make you dream about them later!

Swab dampened with de-ionised water being rolled on test site.

On non-studio days, my schedule is more flexible, but still packed. Between art history lectures, science seminars, library visits, and lab bookings for microscopy or photography, there’s always something to do. My evenings are often spent writing up notes or working on assignments. Right now, I’m deep into my project painting, which has already been an adventure. I’ve examined, documented, unframed, and cleaned the verso (back), and now I’m preparing to consolidate areas where the paint is flaking. Watching it transform step by step is incredibly rewarding.

Balancing Hands-On Work and Theory

One of the things I appreciate most about conservation is how the practical and theoretical sides feed into each other. Every experiment, every test, every hands-on exercise builds a mental toolkit of approaches. For example, during cleaning tests I mentioned earlier, we explore how different solutions interact with paint layers. The knowledge we gain isn’t just theoretical—it’s immediately applicable to the challenges we face in the studio.

Facing Tissue and Adhesive Trails (close up)

That said, there’s no formula for conservation. What works for one painting might not work for another, and that unpredictability keeps things interesting. It’s all about adapting, experimenting, and staying curious.

The Joys and Challenges of Learning

Since starting this course, I’ve learned so much—not just about conservation techniques, but about problem-solving and critical thinking. No two paintings are alike, and every treatment requires a tailored approach. It’s a bit like being a doctor for art, constantly diagnosing issues and determining the best course of action.

I’ve also developed a new appreciation for the ethical questions conservation raises. How much intervention is too much? How do we preserve a painting’s history without compromising the artist’s original vision? These are questions we grapple with constantly, and they’ve deepened my respect for the responsibility that comes with this work.

Looking Ahead

As I look to the future, I’m excited to dive deeper into areas like pigment research and inpainting. I’ve always been a bit of a materials nerd (probably why I started making and selling handmade paints), and I can’t wait to learn more about how pigments and binders interact over time.

Me, cleaning the verso of a painting using a dry brush & vacuum.

For now, though, I’m focused on building a strong foundation—learning as much as I can, experimenting with new techniques, and soaking up every bit of knowledge my tutors and peers have to offer.

A Final Thought

If you’re considering a path in conservation, my advice is simple: embrace the challenges and stay curious. This field isn’t just about “fixing” paintings—it’s about preserving history, honoring artistry, and constantly learning. It’s hard work, but it’s also one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done.

For me, there’s no greater satisfaction than seeing a painting come back to life and knowing that I’ve played a part in its story. That’s why I get up every morning, ready to roll another swab or mix another solution—because every step I take brings me closer to keeping these incredible works alive for future generations.