Picasso would laugh

Carol Vogel has an article in The New York Times about fixing Picasso's paintings:

Since 1952, The Actor, a rare Rose Period painting by Picasso, has hung prominently at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, along with other examples of early paintings by the Spanish master. But on Monday it could be found in a new, temporary home, the Met’s conservation laboratory, where experts there are trying to determine the best course of action for this 105-year-old painting’s brand-new feature: an irregular, six-inch tear running vertically along the lower right-hand corner.
On Friday afternoon a woman taking an adult education class at the museum accidentally fell into The Actor, causing the tear. Officials at the museum said that since the damage did not occur “in the focal point of the composition,” they expected that the repair would be “unobtrusive”, according to a statement released on Sunday.
The accident recalled another human-canvas run-in involving a Picasso. In 2006 the Las Vegas casino owner Stephen A. Wynn put his elbow through Le Rêve (The Dream), a 1932 Picasso of the artist’s mistress Marie-Thérèse Walter, leaving a sizable hole that has been so artfully repaired that the untutored eye would never know such a fate had befallen it.
But it is difficult to compare a 1932 Picasso with one painted in 1904-5. The early canvases are more delicate and the oil paint is thinner than the enamel-based kind the artist was known to have used later in his career. And then there is the question of whether there’s only one image involved.
The Actor was painted when Picasso was only 23. “He was very poor, and these canvases were expensive,” said John Richardson, the Picasso biographer. He explained that if Picasso made a mistake, he couldn’t afford to throw out the canvas, but rather painted over it. “Nearly all these early canvases have something painted underneath,” Mr. Richardson said. He added: “There are few major paintings from this period and (at four feet by six feet) this is one of the biggest. It’s very important.” Dealers say a painting of this scale and period could be worth well over $100 million.
It’s an image — a tall, gaunt actor, dressed in a commedia dell’arte costume, leaning out across the footlights — that has often been puzzling to viewers, Mr. Richardson said, adding, “People seem to miss out on the fact that the actor is on a stage, which is unusual.” Also unusual is that the prompter’s hands are visible in the right-hand corner.
Whether those hands are now torn, nobody at the Met is saying. Nor are museum officials talking about how they plan to repair the painting. They did say that since the incident happened only on Friday, it will take time to decide the most prudent and effective treatment available.
David Bull, a Manhattan conservator, has not seen The Actor since its tear, and therefore would not talk specifically about the painting, but he said there were all kinds of things that could be done nowadays. “We have many more choices of materials than we used to and many new approaches,” he said. Mr. Bull and several other conservators who have not seen the tear say the next steps depend on many unanswered questions. For starters, is the canvas lined? “In the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s there was a passion for lining, but now whenever possible we try to avoid lining because there is always a chance it could destroy the original canvas or make the surface seem dull or heavy,” Mr. Bull said. “If it’s not lined, it will be easier to repair.”
Some experts also wondered whether the canvas had a depression in it from the woman’s fall, and if the tear was straight or branched. And then there was the issue of whether there is a second painting underneath The Actor or on the reverse side. Recent research has revealed that Picasso took an old canvas with a landscape on it, the work of another artist, flipped it over and painted The Actor. (He also painted out the original image.)
Like a gifted plastic surgeon, a seasoned restorer has many options these days and a host of materials and instruments at his disposal, even acupuncture needles. They are not used as they would be in Asian medicine, to puncture a surface, or to sew a canvas, but rather are applied from behind to keep a tear flat. Such needles were used to repair Le Rêve, said William Acquavella, the Manhattan dealer who was involved in an attempt to sell that painting on behalf of Mr. Wynn and who has shown Le Rêve at his gallery since it was torn. “It’s amazing what can be done these days,” he explained, adding that when they are finished restoring The Actor, the tear “will probably only look like a tiny pencil line, if that.”