Conservation and preparation of mummy cartonnages for ‘Making Egypt’ exhibition at Young V&A

Many of the V&A’s decorative art objects feature Egyptian inspired designs. Yet who would have thought there are also genuine Egyptian artefacts in the collection! V&A’s new exhibition Making Egypt has allowed some of these magnificent, yet fragile treasures, to be brought out of the stores, and to be carefully conserved and prepared for display.

I don’t often come across Egyptian artefacts in my day-to-day job within the museum’s conservation department, so you can imagine how thrilled I was to discover that I’d be able to prepare some of these amazing objects.

Early Inspiration

Like most people I too grew up with an interest in ancient Egypt. When I was a child, my grandfather told me endless stories about mysteries of the pyramids, paying special attention to their construction methods. I couldn’t really understand where he got his obsession, until later, when I realised that he would have been a young boy in 1922 when King Tutankhamun’s tomb was discovered by the British archaeologist Howard Carter and his team. Inspired by the worldwide ‘Egyptomania’ he would have read the Finnish author Mika Waltari’s 1945 book ‘Sinuhe the Egyptian‘ as well as Christiane Desroches-Noblecourt’s 1963 book ‘Life and Death of A Pharaoh Tutankhamen‘ which left me with an eternal fear of the Pharaoh’s curse. Eventually I travelled to Egypt to see the magnificent original sites, and was left with an everlasting passion for the country and its past.   

Preparing the objects for Making Egypt

The objects for the Making Egypt exhibition were divided between different conservation studios according to their materials and characteristics. Being based in the sculpture studio, I got to look after objects including ancient cosmetic palettes, a collection of rare Egyptian pigment samples, and three mummy cartonnages (2197-1900 to 2199-1900).

The cartonnages had not been displayed for many decades, and sat in an old frame that was no longer suitable. The frame was brought into the conservation studio so I could examine the objects closeup. As you can imagine, removing the objects from their frame was almost as exciting as entering an ancient tomb. 

Beginning the conservation process

The cartonnages were extremely fragile. Close examination revealed that they were constructed of one or two layers of linen which had been coated in gesso and painted on top. The red cartonnage had also gold leaf over the paint. They had been pinned onto their fabric covered backing board using metal pins. The inside of the case looked as it had been subjected to humidity, as the pins were covered in rust and the fabric behind the cartonnages was stained. Unfortunately, the rusty pins had pressed against the fragile paint and gesso along the edges, and it was a challenge to pull them out without damaging the objects further.

Once all the pins had been removed, I placed the cartonnages carefully on individually cut transparent Perspex sheets to assess their undersides. I had been hugely worried about their condition, but it seemed that they had been lined either fully or partially in the past to support areas that had been torn or were otherwise fragile.

I had previously overseen an exhibition installation at Los Angeles County Museum of Art where I had met an associate conservator from the J. Paul Getty Museum. She had kindly invited me to the Getty Villa to see their conservation facilities and it was there that I learned about their Egyptian collection and the amazing APPEAR Project which she had been working on. APPEAR stands for ‘Ancient Panel Paintings: Examination, Analysis, and Research’ and the project focuses on the understanding of the technical aspects of how ancient panel paintings, mostly mummy portraits, and related artifacts such as shrouds, shrines, and complete portrait mummies were made.

I was also kindly sent contacts to other specialists in the UK and articles to read. I was then able to discuss the materials and methods with other colleagues and trial suitable treatment methods to stabilise the objects.

The history and origin of the cartonnages

Since everyone who visited the studio was fascinated about the objects, I also wanted to understand more about their history and origin. The three sets of cartonnage panels originally lay over three different bodies.

Like so many ancient burials, when they were uncovered the cartonnages were possibly cut up there and then into multiple pieces, so they could be sold to several different people and therefore make more money. These panels would originally have been parts of larger compositions also including a mask and foot panels, whose location today are unknown.

Although they originally come from three different bodies, these three pieces were acquired at the same time and given to the museum together as part of the bequest of Major William Joseph Myers (1858-1899). He was a military officer, and amassed a huge collection of Egyptian objects that he bought during his time stationed there. Myers lent a large part of his collection to the V&A, and when he died, much of it (primarily 347 textiles and textile-related pieces) were left to the museum permanently, through the executor of his will Robert Taylor. The rest of Myers’ collection otherwise went to Eton College, where it remains today.

The symbolism within design

The designs on the panels reflect traditional Egyptian religious belief, depicting images and deities associated with death, regeneration and the afterlife. For example, gods on these panels include:

• The winged goddess at the top of the chest is Isis
• There are the sons of Horus (the four gods who protect the canopic jars, into which a dead person’s organs were placed)
• Anubis, the jackal-head god of mummification, standing over a depiction of the deceased as a mummified body
• The winged scarab, which pushed the Sun into the Sky every day, and was therefore a powerful symbol of the cycle of rebirth

On the yellow panel, there is a blank vertical strip down the middle; on some cartonnages, there would have been a spell here instead.

The Egyptians believed that after death, those who lived a good life entered the afterlife and were transformed into divine beings. Everything painted on the body and placed in tombs was ultimately to try and facilitate this process. Even mummifying bodies and placing them in coffins was intended to preserve them intact and enable their transmission into the afterlife. This, for example, is why so many coffins have gold faces – the Egyptians believed the gods had skin made of gold, so picturing yourself like this on your coffin was saying you had the attributes of a god. Painting gods associated with the afterlife on your cartonnage further encouraged the transfiguration of the deceased into a divine being.  

Stabilising and reinforcing the objects

Now that I knew more about the objects, I set off to stabilise them. I started with the painted and the gilded surfaces and applied adhesive on any fragile and lifting areas. Once the treatment had been completed, I was able to turn the objects around and treat the backs as well as the edges. Some areas of the linen had warped, and needed softening so I could reattach the objects onto a new backing board without damaging them.

To reinforce fragile areas, I applied Japanese tissue on the backs of the objects and along some of the edges. I also secured one of the beads at the back so it wouldn’t fall off during handling and transport. Once the treatment had been completed, I placed the objects onto a new fabric covered board which my colleague at the V&A mount making team had prepared for me.

The mounting process

Me and my colleagues had many conversations regarding the mounting of the objects and in the end, we concluded that they would sit securely and comfortably against the board if it was padded before the fabric was laid over it.

Once I had discussed the final layout with the curator, I pinned the cartonnages onto the board with new stainless-steel pins which I covered with plastic tubing. I ensured that the pins were placed in crucial locations to avoid any new damage occurring and that they were not too tight. I also placed some pins against Japanese paper which I had previously applied to provide extra support.

Once the pinning was completed, a pre-used Perspex hood was placed over the objects and the new display case was sent for packing so they could be transported from the conservation stores to the Young V&A.

My colleagues from the Technical Services team, Roman Aspeek Bloor and Francesca Penty, skilfully finalised the installation process so the display was finally complete.

Thanks

I would like to acknowledge all my colleagues at the V&A who contributed to this project, and Making Egypt’s curator Benjamin Hinson, who contributed to this blog. I would also like to offer my sincerest thanks to J. Paul Getty Museum and colleagues at the British Museum.