2B — Thursday, February 19, 2015 the b-side The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com There’s something undeniably alluring about the past. Even in our frenzied chase for the future — designing computers in our base- ments and making waves in the stock market — we somehow still find ourselves stumbling into vin- tage stores, lingering over dusty books and running our fingers through moth-eaten velvet. Part of it is pure nostalgia, an unshakeable longing for the retro, the rustic, the renaissance — but no matter if you are a multimillionaire or a whim- sical 20-something, there are no flights to ancient Greece or Paris circa 1950. Instead, we must learn our history through the artifacts left behind, dug up and dusted off. If you are Bill Gates, you may spend nearly $31 million on “The Codex Leicester,” the most famous of Leonardo Da Vinci’s scientific manuscripts. Or perhaps you are a literature fan like Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen, bidding $6 million on an original copy of Shakespeare’s “First Folio.” Or maybe you are just a whimsical 20-something with an empty wal- let and a hungry mind, reaching for the new and finding the old — as I did at the University’s Department of Preservation and Conservation at the University Library. If it sounds like the kind of place where old Egyptians bring their dead to be mummified, you’re not too far off base. Instead of preserv- ing artifacts to be buried, however, the University conservators are preserving ancient texts, books and photos to be brought back to life, either for circulation or restricted use in University libraries, as well as for personal requests. They are the behind-the-scenes wizards responsible for making documents legible under thick museum glass, keeping aged encyclopedias from falling apart on the Hatcher Grad- uate Library shelf and resurrecting panoramic photographs of Detroit circa 1860. “This is why we have the cool- est job in the world,” said Shannon Zachary, the head of the depart- ment of preservation and conserva- tion, smiling. “We get to do what no one else can.” I arranged to meet Zachary at the department lab on a frigid morning in early February — the hour when the conservators were usually the most busy. Despite its library affiliation, the lab is fairly far from campus, tucked behind Elbel Field and the train tracks. As I hopped the rusted tracks at sun- rise, I envisioned myself on the set of “National Treasure” — standing in a sterile white room, snapped into latex gloves and surrounded by peeling yellow documents whose secrets could be revealed only by magniscope. These dramatic expectations dissolved quickly as I entered the building and wasn’t met with a thick FBI-issued vault, but rather a homey workshop that hummed with the energy of an art studio. It was clearly still early. The large wooden work tables were mostly empty as I weaved around them, making my way to Zachary’s office in the back corner. Stretched from floor to ceiling of the work- shop were racks of material rolled up like wrapping paper, waiting to be sheared off and stitched onto battered books. Atop the tables were extensive collections of exacting knives and massive paper cutters, stiff boards and spools of thread for book spinal repair and an expensive-looking camera with a giant bulb. Jutting into the cen- ter of the room were makeshift cubicles designated to each conser- vator, cluttered with mismatched stacks of ragged books and grin- ning family photos. A flash of color from one desk caught my eye — at least 200 plas- tic figurines, in varying degrees of vibrance and age, peered out from the shelf. It was as if I had stepped into Santa’s workshop, except the toys were not flashy and new and looking to be loved — rather, they were well-worn and faded, waiting to be shined again. The objects that come to the Preservation and Conservation lab are divided into two categories: circulation and special collections. Falling under the circulation group are materials sent in for mainte- nance — specifically damage pre- vention or damage repair — for the primary purpose of extending their library shelf lives. The neces- sary repairs can vary greatly from book to book, making the conser- vators take them on a case-by-case basis. Though this attention to detail is a trademark of the depart- ment, with only two full-time book repairers and just eight worksta- tions, it seems impossible to main- tain every University book without some North Pole magic. “Every repair is handmade from start to finish, so we give priority to rare and special books, or those with spindly and complicated bindings,” Zachary said. She then picked up a red encyclopedia from the table. “Everything else — standard- issued books like this, with just a little wear and tear — are shipped to our friends at a commercial binding company in Cleveland, Ohio, where they usually repair some 35,000 books a year. You can understand why we don’t want to send our fragile books to that assembly line.” Another reason to keep the book in the lab is if there is a specific repair requested. Jeff Gilboe, one of the two full-time book repairers, works primarily with circulation materials — books needing damage repair and prevention, to be then put back on library shelves and into students’ hands. He was instructed to attach a pocket to the hard- backed interior of a University bird guide, slim enough to fit a book- mark. He demonstrates his process with expert precision: measuring the pocket dimensions onto sturdy paper, cutting, hinging the paper onto the cover flap securely. The request seemed strange to me — were there secret bookmark pock- ets all over University materials? I asked what other special orders he received. “The library folks love to add things to their books,” Gilboe said, laughing. “I have replaced pages, put in reading supplements and refurbished bindings in leather.” His eyes shone with the passion of someone who has been working for nine years, yet is still just get- ting started. “We have these weekly meet- ings where new stuff is brought in. There’ll be a really damaged book and everyone asks, ‘Should we commercially rebind it?’” Gil- boe recounted. “I’ll usually just tell them that I can do the whole book.” The other side of Preservation and Conservation, special collec- tions, is much more private in com- parison. Materials that fall under this category are, naturally, special: internationally treasured book col- lections, valuable manuscripts and scores of archival material. The Special Collections Library does not circulate, but some materials can be viewed in the reading room on the eighth floor of the Graduate Library. And unlike the “Restricted Section” of the Hogwarts library — which must be snuck into under the cover of an invisibility cloak — all students are welcome to view the special collections, though they must request materials ahead of time. Perhaps the most fascinating materials in special collections are the lengthy, tangled scrolls of papyrus, inked with ancient sym- bols and religious scripture. The University currently holds the largest papyrological collection in North America — roughly 6,500 linear feet of archival material. The collection was first introduced to the University in the 1920s, when Francis Kelsey, a former profes- sor of Latin, (for whom the Kelsey Museum of Archaeology was named) purchased large quanti- ties of ancient papyri from Egypt, much of which is still being held in a pressurized vault in the Graduate Library. Since then, conservators have been arduously working to piece together the papyri — a task so monumental, so fragile, that I’d imagine it would be similar to a painter unveiling a masterpiece composed completely of pricks of his brush. For Leyla Lau-Lamb, the other book repairer, conserving papyrus is an art — and she is unquestionably a master, albeit an unconventional one. Upon first meeting, Lau-Lamb struck me as an eccentric genius in the flesh: petite and bespeckled, long silver hair tied at the nape of her neck, wearing an oversized sweater emblazoned with a star and fuzzy striped tube socks. “I don’t wear gloves,” Lau-Lamb said, when asked to describe her process. “People are always sur- prised, since these are very old and fragile documents. But this isn’t a visual task; it’s a feeling one. The papyrus that comes out of the vault doesn’t look like a scroll — it’s more like a tangled knot of fibers, not a document. I use my fingers to feel my way into it, very carefully, dis- tinguishing between fibers making up the vertical and horizontal lay- ers of the page.” Lau-Lamb’s 25-year-old meth- od, though unconventional, works — so much so that 10 years ago she published a papyrus conserva- tion guideline for the Advanced Papyrological Information Sys- tem (known as “APIS”) that was printed in 25 countries and is still actively used. Lau-Lamb laments our society’s lack of proper school- ing in papyrological conservation, despite the abundance of archives to uncover. “There are hardly any places to study conservation, in today’s soci- ety and especially back in my day. Then, there were two places to go: England’s British Library and a conservation workshop in Berlin. So I went to Berlin for training,” Lau-Lamb said. She then grinned conspiratori- ally, “What we need is to grab the interest of more young people like you. Someone needs to keep resur- recting these old documents.” To help foster education for bud- ding conservators, the Preserva- tion and Conservation Department offers the Cathleen A. Baker Fel- lowship, an annual $10,000 award that enables conservators of vary- ing expertise to work in the lab and gain hands-on experience in the conservation of paper-based col- lections. The department receives applications from conservators across the country, with each appli- cant essentially pitching his or her project — past Fellows’ projects have included broad investigations of new conservation techniques, as well as the specific use of starch paste in book bindings — with the ultimate goal of benefitting both the Baker Fellow and the Univer- sity. This year’s Fellowship was awarded to Halaina Demba, whose project focus is on library and archive conservation. When we were introduced, Demba was hold- ing a thick, faded-blue cookbook titled “American Frugal House- wife,” for which she was recon- structing a binding. As she flipped through the aged pages to show me where the sewing in the spine had unraveled, I noticed that the pages were littered with splotches. I asked if she intended to remove the stains, figuring that it was common practice in paper preservation. “Definitely not,” Demba replied, surprisingly. “Especially in a case like this, where the words are still clearly legible. These stains — mostly oil stains, it looks like — are what give a book, particularly a cookbook, its character. I’ve found little bits of onion stuck to pages, and I keep them too.” I laughed, at once amused and slightly disgusted. “There’s a difference between an exhibit and an artifact,” Demba continued. “Documents that are on exhibit are there to be read — people want to know what the U.S. Constitution says. Here, we work with artifacts. We want them to maintain their utility, of course, but more importantly we want them to maintain their integrity. When you wash pages of their oil stains and onion bits, you lose this integrity.” What happens, then, if the pur- pose of the object is to be looked at? Senior conservator Tom Hogarth specializes in preserving 19th cen- tury photographs. Like Lau-Lamb, Hogarth beats his own path — dressing in a bright yellow Hawai- ian shirt to offset his shock of white hair, he introduces himself as a “black-and-white guy.” His current project is mounting an 1860 pan- oramic photo of the Detroit River, taken from the Canadian border, to an archival board. Like a sly magician, Hogarth pulled back the tissue covering the old picture for me, pointing out the tiny names of the ships and marvel- ing at the photographic details that were revolutionary for the time period. “Back then, people didn’t have smartphones that could take pan- oramic photos,” Hogarth said, a wistful tone in his voice. “They took photos shot by shot, then past- ed them together to make this — it took time. It was an art. Nowadays, my granddaughter can do it.” What Hogarth’s granddaugh- ter can’t do (at least not yet) is conserve the original panora- ma so it lasts forever. In reality, only a handful of people in the world can do what the staff at the Department of Preservation and Conservation do — preserve our history, close the gap a tiny bit more between the past and our fast-paced world of fads and for- getting. Perhaps our fascination with the past can be summed up by this question, the one I can’t seem to shake: Why does a graying pan- oramic photograph of Detroit bring me to tears, when a mod- ern version of the same picture wouldn’t get a second glance? VIRGINIA LOZANO/Daily A repairer works to restore a book at the University Library. NYFW: BADGLEY MISCHKA Inspired by the 1941 film “Blood and Sand,” Mark Badgley and James Mischka attempted to bring old Hollywood glamour to New York Fash- ion Week. Beehives and cat eyes walked down the runway doused in a varied combination of baroque ornamentation and clean silhouettes. Embellished details covered half of the line, while bare minimum covered the other. The collection was held together by a thin thread of inspiration, but fell apart through execution. Despite the overarching “muchness” of the col- lection, the outerwear pieces shined through. The loose red capes and structured tweed coats that adorned few of the models’ shoulders were a signifi- cant highlight, pointing to potential outerwear piec- es in future collections. A floor-length cream gown sparingly decorated with turquoise lace ornament- ed sleeves stood out as the most successful combina- tion of minimal and adorned in the entire line. Other highlights included an ornate tank top and pant combo and a “Mad Men”-style peplum tweed dress. The idea that a collection could provide more than one inspired style is compelling, and with more attention to subtle differences rather than overt dis- parities, the concept could work. Badgley Mischka is on to something new, which is exciting and fun to see on a runway where taking risks can be precari- ous (see Kanye West’s Adidas line). Here’s an A-for- effort on this collection and an encouraging nod in the hopes that the duo continues to pursue bold con- cepts in future collections. -KATIE CAMPBELL BADGLEY MISCHKA NYFW: THOM BROWNE The Council of Fashion Designers of Ameri- ca (CFDA) called Thom Browne the Menswear Designer of the Year in 2006, arguably the Oscar or Palme d’Or of fashion. Then, in 2008, GQ agreed. And just in 2013, CFDA decided to throw him another. If history should teach us anything, it’s that once your accolades need their own room in your atelier, you are permitted to take risks – weird ones, during Fashion Week. This year, for his F15 Collec- tion, Browne gave us less a show and more a fune- real future, one where the living don black and the dead white. In one of the Week’s stranger exhibitions, with Nicki Minaj agape in the front row, Browne sent his models down the runway with gender-neutral black veils over their Burtonesque top hats, tran- scending the dark into the sinister. High-rise lapels barely give the loosened ties breathing room, but it allowed for higher flaps and luxe ticket pockets that often accentuates a well-crafted suit. With the pockets so high (elbows and above), that leaves the remaining fabric to drape down uninterrupted to near-knee level. If families of Civil War casualties had the means — and the Satanism — at that time, they might occupy funerals with F15 Browne swag. And, now, for the weird shit. Breeches, stock- ings, Chelsea boots, rail-thin umbrellas, no pants at all, tapered driving gloves, ankle-length dresses — all black and all worn by men. There’s gall in what Browne is doing here, yet his nuanced eye erases any imagined disrespect he may hold for the dead. Even if he manages to upset the departed, they’re still dead, and we’re still looking. -ANDREW MCCLURE THOM BROWNE NYFW: BAND OF OUTSIDERS Scott Sternberg grew up a cinephile, snapping pictures and kicking off his professional career as an assistant at Creative Artists Agency in Los Angeles. After becoming an agent and spending time in fash- ion circles, namely with J.Crew founder Emily Scott, in 2003 he founded Band of Outsiders (the name- sake taken from Godard’s 1964 film). Not unlike the French New Wave cinema that inspires his work, Sternberg has found a liminal sweet-spot between classics and sex appeal. Peep at his Polaroid cam- paign with, say, Marisa Tomei, if you want to know what I mean — less is more as she reveals almost no skin yet exudes allure via Sternberg’s sharp cuts and calculated draping. In January we saw his hardware store-themed menswear line, including hunting jackets, slim-cut flannels and, uncharacteristic to the designer, denim — a denim jumpsuit. This week, for his women’s line, he also ventured a bit from his elongating, tapering silhouettes, opting for high-slit maxis, oversized- buttoned cardigans and Pilgrim-belted overcoats. He’s not trying to redefine the contours of his ideal consumer — nine-feet tall — but more interested in well-aged classics spruced up with contemporary, if not subtly abstract, detailing. A puffy all-denim parka with a coyote fur hood could thrive in the Alps or on Fifth Ave., its brighter indigo hue an unequivo- cal nod to Levi’s before they shacked up with depart- ment stores. The best summary piece was a soft-sheen, deep- navy bustier with matching fine-cut trousers — Sternberg’s auto-chic tidiness that expresses what everyone wants but with the humility to admit his derivations. -ANDREW MCCLURE BAND OF OUTSIDERS NYFW: J. CREW The typical sequins and party dresses appeared in J.Crew’s 2015 ready-to-wear collection, along- side the less expected tailored onesies and wide leg trousers that also came down the runway dur- ing Tuesday’s show. The J.Crew collection is only sold at select stores around the country, so what’s shown at Fashion Week is not necessarily what you may see at your typical mall. For the autumn/winter show, though, womens- wear designer Tom Mora created voluminous wool trousers and multi-colored feather minis for a line that differs from the traditionally preppy collections in the past. However, the clothes are better fit for creative director Jenna Lyons rather than an over- achieving college student. Bright yellows and blush pinks showed up in random pops of fur and luxurious turtlenecks. Geo- metric designs and stripes in navy and white com- plemented structured groutfit. Even the denim and sequins were revamped into maxi skirts and uncon- ventional blazers. The coats and jackets were the highlight of the show, ranging from dramatic furs to patterned double-breasted classics. Of course, navy sweaters over button-down dresses were spread throughout and a clean camel coat also popped up. But even the classic pumps and sandals featured cheetah print or eye-popping yel- low tassels. The collection was not a total standout, but the deliberate choice to include dramatic silhouettes and unexpected colors was an important move for J.Crew. The classic turtleneck has never looked so cool. -MARA MACLEAN J. CREW PRESERVATION From Page 1B “Every repair is handmade.” “Here, we work with artifacts.”