The Fly Arts Initiative is a professional collections care company serving the Dutch national art community. The studio is primarily focused on the conservation and restoration of painted works of art, and its work includes activities that promote public knowledge and awareness of collections care. Lauren Fly, the founder and owner, is a trained paintings conservator who has worked with numerous international museums, galleries, and private studios over the past eight years, building a wide network of contacts and gaining experience in diverse areas of the field.
Lauren was drawn to conservation from a young age, and focused her studies accordingly. She graduated magna cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa with a dual Bachelors Degree in Art History and Historic Preservation (specialised in Architectural Conservation) from Mary Washington College in 2002. She then entered into the graduate program at New York University's Institute of Fine Arts, where she continued to study Art History and trained in paintings conservation at the IFA's Conservation Center. She gained additional experience during her training by working at various museums and private studios in Europe & North America.
In 2005 she took up a postgraduate internship at the Hamilton Kerr Institute and received a postgraduate certificate from the University of Cambridge, where she was a member of Trinity College. She continued at the HKI under a Kress Fellowship focused on French paintings from the Fitzwilliam Museum.
Following the completion of her time at the HKI, Lauren worked privately in London and Cambridge, and in 2008 moved to the Netherlands to take up a position first as a paintings conservator for the Instituut Collectie Nederland, and then in 2010 at a private studio in the Netherlands. In her training and subsequent experience, she has worked on a great variety of painted objects, from the sarcophagus of Ramses II to a 14th-century Greek icon to a 19th-century decorative scheme in a Nantucket house to a large contemporary piece in mixed media.
Lauren enjoys the challenges presented by such varied work, and her special interest is in the structural treatment of canvas paintings, which allows her to combine her personal passion for textiles with her love of paintings. She started her own studio, the Fly Arts Initiative, in 2011 to focus her work on the vibrant art scene in and around Amsterdam and work more closely with clients, both private and institutional, in caring for their collections.
The Fly Arts Initiative provides private, institutional, and commercial customers with art restoration and conservation treatment and advice. Restoration and conservation cover a wide range of activities, and services include:
Now you see them, now you don’t… The most recent project at the Begijnhof: an early 17th century panel painting of the Crucifixion. Commissioned for the newly built Sint Andrieshofje (the oldest hofje in Amsterdam, apart from the Begijnhof), the painting has been owned by the same caretakers for its entire history. Although it has been restored in the past, the painting had areas of severe tenting which required urgent treatment. The deformations visible in the photos above were caused by changes in relative humidity, which induced the ground layer used to prepare the wood support for painting to lift away from the panel. Although these dramatic areas of lifting were easily visible, there were also more widespread areas of blind cleavage which also required treatment. Fortunately, the structural problems affecting the ground and paint layers had not yet led to loss, and areas of lifting and cleavage responded well to consolidation. After consolidation, the painting was surface cleaned (as you can seen in the photos, it was also very dusty!) and a new layer of varnish helped restore depth the darker tones and colours of the composition.
I am excited to announce that I am beginning a period of tenure as Conservator in Residence at Het Begijnhof. Work will focus on restoring The Miracle of Amsterdam (the companion painting to Angels with the Shield of Amsterdam) and the stabilization and preventive conservation of the more than 20 portraits hanging in the Regentenkamer. More details and photos coming soon!
Progress at the Begijnhof: slow, but steady & immensely gratifying.
Initial photography, condition & examination reports, & cleaning tests finished at the Begijnhof… Here’s a taste of things to come! This is a surface cleaning test, about 2.5cm x 2.5 cm. As you can see, there is a significant amount of dirt and grime covering the painting. In this case, the colour and consistency of the layer (very dark black and fine, even particulate) indicates that it is made up mostly of soot. There was so much dirt that I needed about six or seven swabs like the one I’m holding in the bottom picture to adequately clean the area shown.
Today marks the beginning of project I’m working on for the Begijnhof, a cloistered community in the UNESCO World Heritage Site created within Amsterdam’s inner canal ring. The Begijnhof was founded sometime in the 14th century and remains one of the most beautiful, peaceful areas in the city. I will be restoring one of the paintings in the Chapel of Saints Joannes and Ursula, and am very excited to be doing the work on site, and open to the public. I’ll be posting project updates here but if you’re in the area, stop by to see how it’s going and witness a conservation project firsthand! For more information on the Begijnhof itself, visit their site at www.begijnhofamsterdam.nl/home-en.
Yet another article about the unrolling, this time with more information on the artist & the creation of the painting.
Another article about the van Bree, this time with video!
A hint of things to come… Unrolling Mattieu van Bree’s Intocht van Napoleon te Amsterdam with colleagues from the Restauratieatelier Amsterdam (Lauren’s at the upper right corner).
A news spot from Danish TV, a few months ago. Look for Lauren around 2:30, and if you don’t speak Danish, enjoy the behind the scenes look at an exhibit installation in progress!
Amazing candlelit jazz at the Portuguese synagogue
Creeptastically beautiful shadow puppets at the Museum van Loon. The soundtrack was amazing, though I wasn’t patient enough to take video.
Further down the Keizersgracht, Foam has something very important to ask you…
Autumnal foliage posing as fireworks for Bonfire Night! Starting Museumnacht right at Huis Marseille…
High levels of dutchitude on Falckstraat, near Frederiksplein.
Unusually & fantastically decorative brass posting points for markets stalls in Het Spui. Walked through thousands of times, only just noticed…
Hero de Janeiro update! It stopped raining long enough for me to get a decent picture of the Minuteman. He has either cruelly lost his legs in a battlefield accident, or is standing behind a bit of wall. Also, my military costume history isn’t perfect, and I know he’s a little formal compared to their traditional garb, so don’t judge me too harshly if it’s not a minuteman. He’s at the corner of the Lijnbansgracht & the Lijnbansstraat, standing at the ready.
One of the standouts in Galerie Ron Mandos’ current show, Best of Graduates 2011, is Gerrit Rietveld Academie alum Minke Nelissen. Quietly installed in its own room at the back of the gallery, her Oeverland is a study of layers: moments in time, slices through space, fragments of memory… It is a fragile piece that is pleasingly difficult to ignore. This is due in part to relationships of scale and space: the installation takes up the larger part of the room, and the viewer is forced to enter along its perimeter, skirting along a darkened border, drawn in by areas of light and shadow shifting in and out of each other. The video itself is a looped piece in two segments, showing men collecting rubbish along the shore, but the quiet simplicity of its content subjugates itself to the more complex visual effects of its installation. Bounded by a taut screen on one side and the back wall of the gallery on the other, Nelissen has hung rectangular panes of salvaged glass staggered across the distance and projected the video through its depth, to mesmerizing effect. The glass both reflects and permits the image to pass through it: the panes act as floating mirrors that separate out parts of the whole, while dirt and residues along the edges of the glass block shadowed frames on the back wall and create overlapping vignettes within the image. Colours are muted and washed out, although bolder and more striking on the solid support of the wall, more whispering on the translucent screen. The flickering interplay of these images and the contrasts of their surroundings (the imposing though delicate screen, the shiny but dirtied glass, the structurally solid yet visually divided wall) quietly lead the viewer into a contemplation of perception, the role of memory and the nature of the passage of time. Art is long and time is fleeting, and indeed the show comes down this weekend. So get to Ron Mandos (Prinsengracht 282) post-haste, but plan to stay a while once you’re there…
[NB My insubstantial video hardly does it justice, so please do go see it for yourself!]
This post started out just being a simple photograph of the memorial sculpture built into the wall along Balham Station Road commemorating the bombing of the station during World War II (now known to most people through the film adaptation of Ian McEwan’s Atonement). In the process of trying to figure out when it was installed and find any information on the artist responsible, I was pleasantly surprised to encounter the Art on the Underground site from Transport for London. What a treasure! This, folks, is a government initiative done right. It is literally packed with information on past, present and future exhibits, printed media, and permanent installations searchable by artist, date, station, line, etc. I could go on & on, but it’s probably best if you go and discover it for yourself. The click-thru is obligingly linked to the photo, so have at it, and let me know if you find anything more about the Balham work…
[This is very poorly photographed, as the sun was conspiring against me. However, actual sunny days have been rarely featured this summer, so I will not complain or apologize, but simply admit to low quality and soldier bravely onwards. Better photographs of the work abound on the Internet generally, and the artist’s site specifically.]
And now to business…. The ongoing projects to fill the empty Fourth Plinth in Trafalgar Square have been many things: record-setting (Whiteread’s Untitled Monument (2001), the largest object ever cast in resin), controversial (Quinn’s Allison Lapper, Pregnant), and dubiously successful (Gormley’s One & Other, which I did actually quite like). The artist chosen for the 2011 commission is Yinka Shonibare, a YBA who spent his early years in Nigeria before returning to London for art school. With a Turner prize nomination, MBE, and exhibits at the Venice Biennale headlining his CV, his Fourth Plinth effort is his first public art commission.
Although initially the sculpture creates a feeling of nostalgia and whimsy, this lighthearted first impression soon gives way to much deeper social commentary. Nelson’s Ship in a Bottle is a 1:30 scale model of Horatio Nelson’s flagship in the Battle of Trafalgar, HMS Victory. Its 37 sails are hand-stitched from vibrant, patterned fabrics traditionally associated with African dress, which the artist sources himself at Brixton markets. Although in their modern setting these fabrics specifically connote African identity and independence, their history is actually much more complex: their design is based on traditional Indonesian batiks, which were taken back to Europe by their colonial occupiers, the Dutch, who produced them on a large scale and then exported them to West Africa. It is these historical references (the connections of HMS Victory - Nelson[’s Column]-Trafalgar [Square], the cultural context of the fabrics, and the legacy of European imperialism (for England, aided in large part by Nelson’s victories) that begin to lead deeper consideration of what Nelson’s Ship in a Bottle means to the modern viewer. The artist himself considers the work a celebration of Britain’s rich multiculturalism and in the wake of this month’s riot and unrest, it’s good to be reminded of what London can be…
Cows on the roof & a bike on the wall @ the Phoenix Inn, Palace Street, SW1
When I was last in London, the National Gallery was doing a bit of building work and had come up with a highly unique way of (semi)hiding the necessary scaffolding: a living re-creation of one of their paintings. They chose van Gogh’s A Wheatfield, with Cypresses and installed over 8,000 plants on a large board covering the scaffolding. Their soft, rustling textures and verdant tonality create a lush contrast with the highly polished granite and classicism of the building and the surrounding Trafalgar Square. The installation’s somehow comforting scale and immediacy of access also makes the Gallery’s otherwise grand and imposing façade more relatable and inviting; the visitor feels drawn in by its natural elements and removed from the overcrowded and bustling Square behind them. The Gallery’s site for the project (http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/van-gogh-painting-brought-to-life-as-living-wall) has a little more information on the project and its sponsorship by GE: funding is a common problem in the arts these days, and I’m happy to see the NG and GE finding an interesting and engaging way of serving both their purposes.
The NG’s ‘living wall’ reminded me strongly of one of my favourite things in the new public library (the Openbare Bibliotheek Amsterdam): the textile wallcoverings by the artist Claudy Jongstra. Commissioned for the building’s construction in 2007, the wallcoverings have the same effect as the vegetal van Gogh; they soften the modern lines and hard building materials of the OBA’s clean construction. Although the OBA is full of great design, the placement of Jongstra’s textiles in the entry hall is particularly significant; it immediately tells the visitor that this building isn’t just about lines of texts and the stacked spines of books on a shelf, it’s for them, for the people who use these things. The textiles are welcoming and soft, and meld the physical properties of the natural world with the esoterica of human knowledge.
Short & sweet, since I didn’t have time to check any of it out while I was there: the British Museum is doing an Australian season. It’s an interesting change of pace and shows how the Museum has one of the more varied and interesting museum calendars in London.
The first Hero de Janeiro sample to catch my attention was a relatively large (80cm-ish) minuteman with a boombox on the corner of the Lijnbansgracht, just next to the stenciled boy’s face I photographed for an earlier posting. I wanted to stop and take a picture, but it was bucketing down rain (an all-too-familiar theme this summer in Amsterdam) so I scurried to sheltered safety, promising myself I’d come back to it another day. Only two days later I was strolling down the Weteringschans when I was confronted with an even larger Hero de Janeiro penguin. Click went my camera, and I went on my merry way. A few days after that, again walking down the Weteringschans, I saw the Kaiser himself supporting the de Janeiro cause. A bit of basic Googling tells me that Hero de Janeiro is an Amsterdam-based DJ, and though I can’t speak to his musical style, his guerilla marketing gets two very big thumbs up from me. More, please!
It’s not all sweetness & light & things I love… here’s something I don’t: the (pretty) terrible outdoor lighting lining the Nieuwemarkt. Amsterdam, what were you thinking? I like design that’s ‘of its time,’ but these are so 1980’s it’s killing me. I feel like I’m in Back to the Future, where they managed to make even the 1950’s look like the 1980’s…
My most recent trip to the UK was blissfully rain-free, and in celebration of this I made a point of traveling aboveground. Bus for the initial journey into town, but from there on out: walking. It is a revelation, one aided by technology.
[Ed. Slight detour here, feel free to skip onwards by two paragraphs if you like.] My previous experiences of London were almost entirely Tube-dependent. The layout of the city & physical relationship of one area to another are tricksy, to say the least, & the design- (rather than geography-) led layout of the Tube map does nothing to help. This is not an original comment, & I won’t go into the oft-quoted details & quibbles here, but the lack of relationship between what you see on the map & the reality of London’s geography mean that (at least initially) it’s much easier just to move around the city, Tube stop-to-Tube stop. Even with my A-Z, if I was in a rush (inevitable), it was better to not flip through pages of dense streetnames, & just stick with what I knew. This was maddening, as after living in New York I was used to knowing where I was & being able to intuitively figure out how to get where I needed to go (uptown, downtown, across the park, over the river… easy). I KNEW there must be a way of doing the same for London, but short of making flashcards of the A-Z & quizzing myself, I couldn’t figure out what that way might be. Until… the iPhone.
I’m not going to go all Apple-enthusiast here, so don’t worry. Although I’ve had an iPhone for a few years, the prohibitive data roaming fees and SIM-lockedness meant that I never used apps when abroad. That changed in February when I bought an unlocked iPhone & started making use of 3’s great deal which gives me 3000 texts, 300 minutes, & unlimited data when I top up with £15. Please can the Netherlands get a deal like that, sooner rather than later?! But I digress even further… Within about 5 seconds I knew exactly where I was, how to walk where I wanted to go, and if I missed a turning or wanted to make a little detour on the way for whatever reason, I was easily back on course. It was fantastic to actually see the city & how it was connected, & walking provided a context for what I was seeing that had been completely lacking previously. With the notable exception of when I was hoofing it from Victoria to the British Library, when Maps autocorrected my destination to the British Museum (where I’d been the day before) without my noticing, it never let me down & was an utter joy.
It was on one of these ramblings (Selfridges to the British Museum, Vietnamese coffee in hand) that I found the Paul Stolper Gallery (31 Museum Street, WC1). I initially just breezed passed, but was caught by a painting that pulled me through the doors of the gallery to see more by the artist. The artist in question is Andrew Hollis, & that’s his Interior with Dancers and Seated Figure at the top of this post. He has a few things hanging as part of the gallery’s group show, titled In the Flesh, which comes down August 27th. As is often the case, the photo does the painting no favours, but in life it is arresting. The collage-like juxtaposition of highly finished figures & the veiled environments they inhabit push the viewer in and out of physical space, while the emotional lives of the figures themselves continually engage the viewer & draw them further into the reality of the painting. The scale of the works is also compelling and relatable (the ones in the show are generally ca. 1.5m x 1m or so). I wish I had been able to see more in person (one of my other favourites from the show is Interior with Cots and Statue), but for now the online gallery will have to do, & hopefully sometime soon I’ll get to see Memory Darkness and Interior with Couple and Photographs) in the flesh, as it were.
The artist has a dense, philosophical explanation of the work, his influences, & viewing which although interesting, did not substantively add to my engagement with the work. I’m choosing to see this as a good thing: the works are strong enough to stand on their own and don’t need pages of text to support them (refreshing, in these modern times!). It’s good to see an artist actually spend the time to work things through and articulate what they’re thinking & where the art is coming from, but it is interesting to note that many of the ideas and feelings he talks about are much more effectively communicated through the paintings themselves.
No pointing fingers though, as this was dense, overlong, & probably in need of some editing itself, so… Just leave it to the paintings themselves to do the explaining & go see them or use the click through link to get more on Hollis & his other work.
London tease… Have returned from the UK full of things to say, but with not enough time to say them! So for now, content yourselves with a view from bus 3, travelling from Streatham Hill to Victoria, looking forward to what’s next…
Corner of the Hogewal & Noordeinde, Den Haag