Preview – The Gallery Guide – April-May 2007

BEHIND THE SCENES
Inherent Vice
This “Behind the Scenes” topic is not about the illicit
proclivities of gallery personnel that are hidden from
public view. No such luck.
“Inherent vice”, however, is somewhat akin to the
innate (bad and potentially self-destructive) behaviour
triggered by the bit of DNA that impels a person to
over-indulgence and, through excess, die prematurely.
A similar flaw exists in certain artworks. Because of
their inherent natures, such pieces will degrade over
time or suffer from conditions (or other factors) in
their surroundings that will diminish their effectiveness.
Art depends on professionals: to detect their
problems; to slow or stop the progress of their ‘maladies’
and where possible, to endow them with eternal
life.
Conservator Monica Smith of the Vancouver Art
Gallery is responsible for inspecting art objects. On
Condition Report Forms there is a box beside the
words “inherent vice”. If it is ticked, measures might be
taken to stabilize (or ‘cure’) the piece before it is put on
display or accepted into the collection.
BY ANN ROSENBERG
Ingrid and Iain Baxter, Bagged Landscape (1966),
vinyl, 73 x 58 x 8 cm
According to Rebecca Pavitt, another local expert in the field, inherent vice is a problem
because, “Artists make art out of the darnest things.” Every gallery worker has one or more
‘inherent vice’ story that they enjoy telling.
My eyes popped out when I saw ants marching towards an animal fat sculpture at the Surrey
Art Gallery to claim it as their prize. The insects were doing what nature compelled them to do in
response to the ‘scent’ of the lard—an ingredient more fitting for a pie. A more horrifying invasion
of picnic pests took place in Toronto’s Power Plant Gallery when two Mexican artists painted
a mural using human fat as ‘paint’. According to Vancouver curator Keith Wallace, by the
third day, the ‘goop’ was alive with ants and the smell was unbearable.
Artists sometimes encourage, accept and even accelerate the deterioration of a piece by shining
hot lights on the vegetation or bottom-of-the-food-chain creatures it includes. More typically,
however, artists don’t want anything too detrimental to occur. This was undoubtedly the case
with Liz Magor’s 1977 Time and Mrs. Tibor installation that the VAG exhibited just as the artist
was gaining prominence.
Time and Mrs. Tibor was an installation of Magor’s deceased neighbour’s wooden pantry that
had been part of her tumbled-down farm house. On its shelves were Mrs. Tibor’s own preserves
along with Magor’s newly canned jars of wild flowers. The sculpture was purchased by the
National Gallery of Canada and shortly thereafter some substances in the jars began to ferment.
Extraordinary measures were taken to eliminate the inherent vice so that Time and Mrs. Tibor
could have an eternal, problem free-life.
Many of the N.E.Thing Company’s ‘bagged’ vinyl landscapes, plastic inflatable abstract
shapes, low-relief vacuum-formed or crushed container sculptures that were produced in the
mid to late ‘60’s are not ageing well. This is due to the tendency of some plastics to bio-degrade,
especially when exposed to heat and light. Some, but not these works, have become brittle and
discoloured. Neither flaw can be reversed, but some pieces can be stabilized under certain conditions.
In this case, it is up to fate and conservators to determine how long the works survive.
COLLECTION OF THE VANCOUVER ART GALLERY, PHOTO: JIM JARDINE, VANCOUVER ART GALLERY
22 PREVIEW