small group of people at the Walters Art Gallery have embarked on a long and cautious journey. They are painstakingly making their way across the cracked and dulled surfaces of "King Jugurtha Brought Before Sulla," the magnificent historical painting by Giovanni Battista Tiepolo that hung over the gallery's marble staircase for years.
Last week, art conservator Catherine Rogers inched her way up a ridge of buckled paint that formed a piece of sky and succeeded in smoothing the heavens. Next week she will "mend" the cloak and upper body of a Roman soldier with the help of a new technique that allows brittle, 18th-century paint to relax onto the canvas without cracking.
Ms. Rogers proceeds with cotton swabs, a scalpel, a microscope and an infrared camera. She is part of a four-person conservation team that is cleaning the painting, reattaching loose paint, thinning discolored varnish and removing the effects of past restorations.
This kind of work usually takes place in the private areas of a museum, but visitors to the Walters' third floor gallery can watch the painting being restored to beauty through a window.
Over the centuries, "King Jugurtha" has weathered its share of troubles: Previous restorers have "improved" facial features and "enhanced" colors. It has been transferred from one canvas to another by a severe stripping procedure. Legend claims it fell off a boat in the New York harbor and floated ashore just before entering the Walters collection in 1902.
Then last year, it fell victim to a fluke roof leak caused by the March blizzard.
But after the Walters conservators finish, the monumental work will be closer than ever to the painting Tiepolo created for a
palazzo in Venice.
"What people were seeing for years and years when they saw this Tiepolo was the restoration on top of it," says Eric Gordon, senior conservator of paintings at the Walters. "It was incredible to find this real painting underneath that was so completely different from what everyone was seeing. The color, the brushwork, the design, the composition: It's strong all over. We've uncovered a masterpiece. Do you know how rare it is to find a masterpiece hiding in your collection?"
The masterpiece is being restored by Ms. Rogers, who is joined two days a week by conservator Peter Nelsen; and Mr. Gordon and Karen French, assistant paintings conservator.
A two-year project
The painting is so large -- roughly 9 feet by 16 feet -- that it didn't fit through the doors of the museum's conservation lab. So the Walters transformed its medieval tapestry gallery into a temporary conservation studio. The project, which began last fall, is estimated to take two years. In order for the conservators to reach problem areas more easily, the painting is currently placed upside-down.
"King Jugurtha Brought Before Sulla" depicts an obscure episode from Roman history in which the conquering Sulla spares the life of the Numidian king. Because Sulla was known as a scoundrel, this scene was perceived as an allegory about changing behavior and fortune.
Monumental historical paintings, especially ones about the Greco-Roman period, were much in demand during the 18th century, according to Dr. Joneath Spicer, the museum's curator of Renaissance and Baroque art. She says they dealt with ethics on a scale that not only spoke to the magnificence of the virtues but also of the palatial homes in which the paintings were displayed.
At the time Tiepolo painted "King Jugurtha," he was in his 20s and en route to the top of his profession. "In a way, these monumental paintings are performance art," says Dr. Spicer. "Artists placed a big premium on being able to paint quickly and with a virtuosity that could turn their small drawings into bravura performances."
"Tiepolo painted very boldly," says Ms. Rogers. "His brush strokes are quick and direct. For the most part, he does not have a lot of layering. Sometimes artists overwork an area, and the work becomes muddy, but Tiepolo didn't have that problem.
"Other artists of his time used to say that while they were still trying to mix their palettes and figure out the colors, Tiepolo had already finished his painting. He was known for being very quick. Now you can see it."
For most of its life at the Walters, "King Jugurtha" was considered something of a wallflower. It was thought such an unremarkable example of Tiepolo's work, in fact, that some scholars attributed the work to his assistants.
A test of patience
Re-animating it requires patience, dedication -- and a lot of scientific knowledge.
In the past, conservators learned their trade primarily through apprenticeships. Today's professionals must master studio art, art history, chemistry and several years of graduate school at art conservation training centers such as New York University and Winterthur, in Delaware.
This is a field with few absolutes and lots of opinions. Although the conservators' course is set by the needs of the painting, each work presents a unique, unpredictable journey which often requires revising original plans.
"Another team of conservators would have treated this painting differently," Mr. Gordon points out. When he called in half a dozen outside conservators to survey the damage on the Tiepolo, each suggested a different restoration approach.
"One of the tenets of modern conservation is to be as reversible as possible," he says. "Whatever we put on a painting now can be removed very easily with mild solvents. We can camouflage losses so that when this painting is finished, you will see a unified painting. However, we're not going to try to make it look any prettier than it originally looked . . . It's up to us not to make something look new."
The Walters conservators gather regularly in front of the painting to discuss the next stage of treatment. From the public window, the artisans resemble a team of medical specialists re-evaluating the details of a particularly complicated case.
Rob Newton, a 20-year-old mechanical engineering major at University of Maryland Baltimore County, peers at them with awe.
"I don't think I'd ever have that kind of patience," he says.
The sight is even more arresting to artists.
"I can't imagine anyone working at restoring my watercolors," says Ohio painter June Carver Roberts. "I think Tiepolo might find this whole thing a bit funny, too. Artists don't necessarily think their work is so precious."
A close look at genius
The conservators have no doubts, however. They talk about this painting with its multitude of problems as fondly as if they were discussing children, pets or other life-consuming projects. They are working closely enough with this Tiepolo to inhale the excitement of its genius.
"When you think of the person giving his energy to create this -- and there's so much energy here -- it becomes very personal," says Mr. Gordon. "You're face to face with this artist and you kind of give yourself up to that."
"We get intimately involved with every square inch," says conservator Peter Nelsen. "For instance, I can see where Tiepolo put one, two, three colors on his brush and made a single turn of form that has a richness that would only have happened at that moment.
"Working on this is like falling in love with painting again," he continues. "This painting has a vivacity, a joy that speaks of the young artist rapidly ascending into the greatest period of his life."
The next 100 years
"There's a great deal of satisfaction when the project is finished," points out Ms. Rogers. "You feel like you've helped this painting get through the next 100 years. A lot of people will still appreciate it after you're dead and gone."
The conservators balk at the suggestion that their work should receive more public acknowledgment.
"We're hoping that people will look at this painting and say 'OK, so what did you do?' " Mr. Gordon says. "That means it's a good job."