14. The Collection of Nicolas Schöffer: From the Artist’s Studio to the Museum

Into the Artist’s Studio: From Kinetic to Cybernetic

With more than 600 objects, the collection of Nicolas Schöffer (Hungarian, 1912–1992) is nearly complete. Currently installed in his Paris studio, it contains most of his unique artworks and at least one work from each of his series. In addition to paintings, drawings, archival materials, and plans, the collection is composed of kinetic, but mostly cybernetic, sculptures by the artist (fig. 14.1). His widow, Mrs. Eléonore de Lavandeyra Schöffer, manages their maintenance and exhibition and offers guided visits of the studio.

As early as 1948 Schöffer incorporated space into his sculptures with what he called spatiodynamism (fig. 14.2a), a dynamism creating a sensation of dematerialization through the perception of movement. He opened them to light with luminodynamism (fig. 14.2b), which unfolds energy and aesthetic potential, and to time with chronodynamism (fig. 14.2c), in which artworks move in space, light, and time with a precise program and with almost infinite and unpredictable possibilities (Citation: Ligier and Mangion et al. 2004 [Ligier, Maud, and Eric Mangion et al. 2004. Nicolas Schöffer. Paris: Les Presses du Réel.]).¹ To do so, he introduced cybernetics—the science of self-regulated systems (Citation: Pierre 2011:116 [Pierre, Arnauld. 2011. “La machine à gouverner. Art et science du cyberpouvoir selon Nicolas Schöffer.” Les cahiers du MNAM (119): 41–61.])—into his art via interactions with external factors such as light, movements, or sounds. With this purpose in mind, he integrated into his works the most innovative contemporary technology available, with the support of the Philips company. In fact, this kind of permutational system delimits a broad field of possible combinations and produces a finite but immense number of potential works (Citation: Moles 1970 [Moles, Abraham. 1970. “Art et ordinateur.” Communication et langages (7): 24–33.]). Schöffer’s artworks must continuously communicate practical information using aesthetic language with no repetition: they must constantly differ and have a societal impact (Citation: Schöffer 1970:19–21 [Schöffer, Nicolas. 1970. Le nouvel esprit artistique. Paris: Denoël Gonthier.]).

Museum Project

The idea of a Schöffer museum has existed since the 1980s, with its first project—Espace Dynamique Schöffer—developed by Nicolas and Eléonore Schöffer.² Recently, there was an opportunity in Belgium to assemble the artist’s collection around his first permanent cybernetic achievement: the Cybernetic Tower in Liège. The artist’s collection is to be transferred to the Fédération Wallonie-Bruxelles of Belgium, where it will be preserved in the city of Liège. The ongoing project involves the transfer of the artist’s entire oeuvre to a new public museum, which differs from an artist’s studio-museum,³ for enhanced access and study, allowing for specific interpretation and analyses.⁴

The project was initiated after the artist’s widow was contacted about the conservation of the Cybernetic Tower. As a native of Liège and a conservator of contemporary art, I (Manon D’haenens) quickly became a mediator.

The first task was to bring both parties together. The concept of the transfer project already existed, thanks to an old contact between Mrs. Schöffer and the Fédération Wallonie-Bruxelles, and it was now set in motion. I made the project accessible to institutional officials in practical terms by identifying and inventorying the artworks, as well as studying the basic needs for financial evaluation, transport, buildings consideration, and so on. If they had doubts about my broader role at this early stage, they nonetheless retained me as mediator: my competencies as a conservator for understanding art, and artists (as much as possible) on the one hand and institutional museum challenges (as much as possible, too) on the other, provided them with a realistic view of the situation and the needs of the artworks. Of course, many other stakeholders are involved in the project to address the legal, institutional, architectural, and management issues. If it is commonly agreed that a good contract for the artist’s and the museum’s intents and rights is required from a conservation perspective prior to the acquisition of contemporary art (Citation: Beunen 2005 [Beunen, Annemarie. 2005. “Moral Rights in Modern Art: An International Survey.” In Hummelen and Sillé 2005: 222–32.]; Citation: Huys 2011 [Huys, Frederika. 2011. “The Artist Is Involved! Documenting Complex Works of Art in Cooperation with the Artist.” In Scholte and Wharton 2011: 105–17.]; Citation: Quirot 2007 [Quirot, Chantal. 2007. “De la nécessité du contrat d’acquisition” In Restauration et non-restauration en art contemporain 1, Actes des journées d’études: Du refus ou de l’impossibilité de la restauration, et Répliques et restitution, École Supérieure des Beaux-Arts, Tours (1): 73–75. Tours: ARSET.]), this is especially true when working with a complete collection of functional, variable, and interactive artworks. Such a contract involves exploring implications at both relational and practical levels.

The Musiscope, a representative artwork in Schöffer’s oeuvre, is used below as a case study exemplifying these implications (fig. 14.3). Created in 1960, this work is a visual organ with an electronic keyboard and a screen (2 × 2m) in front of a complex installation of visual elements moved by engines and illuminated by lights. This unique artwork is composed of functional electronic components as well as handmade aesthetic elements in plastic and aluminum sheets for light effects; it requires a person’s interaction to be operated.

Transmission and Interpretation

When entering the studio, the visitor is immersed in the universe of the living and evolving works of Nicolas Schöffer. Eléonore Schöffer passionately runs the space full time; she is closely linked to the artworks because she completed some of them with her husband and continually maintains their existence, following his desire to actualize his works with new technologies. From a museum perspective, a form of collaboration is needed to ensure the future variability of these contemporary artworks (Citation: Sommermeyer 2011 [Sommermeyer, Barbara. 2011. “Who’s Right, the Artist or the Conservator?” In Scholte and Wharton 2011: 143–51.]). The trust and confidence (including empathy and emotion) of artist, or the artist’s proxies, in the conservator are helpful when considering interventions that may need subjectivity or, in part, continuity of the artwork production (Citation: D’haenens 2016 [D’haenens, Manon. 2016. “The Conservation of the Cybernetic Tower of Nicolas Schöffer: Between the Continuity and Historicity of the Production.” In Authenticity in Transition, Changing Practices in Art Making and Conservation, Proceedings of the NeCCAR Conference, Glasgow, December 2014, 46–53. London: Archetype.]) and to understanding the context behind the display (Citation: Szmelter 2011 [Szmelter, Iwona. 2011. “Shaping the Legacy of Krzysztof M. Bednarski: A Model for Artist/Conservator/Curator Collaboration.” In Scholte and Wharton 2011: 119–30.]).

While working on this transmission process, the relationship aspect is significant at a personal level. Even when I have questions prepared for Mrs. Schöffer, our interviews are more a discussion of part of her life with Nicolas. Unlike a formal artist’s interview, informal discussions and a relatively close relationship appear to induce trust and give access to deeper knowledge. This is probably also due to the different approaches of the artist and the artist’s widow. When we discussed the Musiscope, she explained not only the different stages of the artwork but also how she met Nicolas for the first time during Musiscope’s single public presentation. This story contains the fact that it was presented only once outside the studio and has never been moved since, providing the context of its presentation.

There is an equal demand to maintain a necessary distance to work efficiently. Becoming too involved could risk exceeding the limits of the professional conservator’s role, or favoring certain values over others. Indeed, Mrs. Schöffer also has objectives, and privileges as rights holder, on how she wants the artworks to be presented, used, fixed, reedited, or produced. Implementing these actions with different stakeholders, she also tries to transmit different aspects of the oeuvre to each of them. She invests her time in us so that we may transmit this knowledge after her. She has built a team and has specific expectations. In this case, the artist would mostly consider the current effects of his artworks, while the rights holder thinks of the best visibility for the artist. The conservator, thinking forward to the future conservation of the artwork, must be aware of these differences (Citation: Davies and Heuman 2004 [Davies, Laura, and Jackie Heuman. 2004. “Meaning Matters: Collaborating with Contemporary Artists.” In Modern Art, New Museums: Contributions to the Bilbao Congress, September 13–17, 2004, 30–33. London: International Institute for Conservation.]; Citation: Huys 2011 [Huys, Frederika. 2011. “The Artist Is Involved! Documenting Complex Works of Art in Cooperation with the Artist.” In Scholte and Wharton 2011: 105–17.]; Citation: Szmelter 2011 [Szmelter, Iwona. 2011. “Shaping the Legacy of Krzysztof M. Bednarski: A Model for Artist/Conservator/Curator Collaboration.” In Scholte and Wharton 2011: 119–30.]).

I strive to analyze these discussions and relationships, taking a step back to meet conservation objectives. According to the literature, the conservator is often considered to possess the ethics and skills to ensure that the artworks are respected, to manage the subjectivities of the different stakeholders, and to process information with the focus on the artworks (Citation: Caple 2000 [Caple, Chris. 2000. Conservation Skills: Judgment, Method and Decision Making. New York: Routledge.]; Citation: Sommermeyer 2011 [Sommermeyer, Barbara. 2011. “Who’s Right, the Artist or the Conservator?” In Scholte and Wharton 2011: 143–51.]; Citation: Davenport 1995 [Davenport, Kimberly. 1995. “Impossible Liberties: Contemporary Artists on the Life of Their Work over Time.” Art Journal 54 (2): 40–52.]; Citation: Van Wegen 2005 [Van Wegen, D. H. 2005. “Between Fetish and Scores: The Position of the Curator of Contemporary Art.” In Hummelen and Sillé 2005: 201–9.]). This collaborative work has also emphasized that the artist’s close relations may have a natural blind confidence in every small trace of the artist. For example, a simple note that said “red” on a spotlight in the Musiscope structure becomes sufficient evidence that it has to be changed to a red light. While the artist’s relatives have a deep knowledge of the context that allows interpretation of each sign of the artist, as a conservator, I still need to systematically question everything. Combining discussions with Mrs. Schöffer with a study of the archives, the plans and documentation of the artworks, books by and on Nicolas Schöffer, and meetings with other stakeholders, I have tried to increase the number of sources to verify information through cross-referencing prior to the intervention: the practical interpretation. The process of investigating the artist’s intent in contemporary art conservation, considered as a basis for interpretation in decision making, also participates in the artworks’ variation in the future museum.⁵

Preservation and Functionality

A collection transfer to the museum implies practical challenges. I began by identifying the artworks spread throughout Schöffer’s whole apartment and making a comprehensive inventory: comparing the physical state of the artworks in Paris, in another storage location, and in the archives with the previous partial inventory and historical information found in a handmade catalogue by the Galerie Denise René. The collection comprises more than two hundred graphic works, approximately one hundred works in relief, and about three hundred functioning artworks creating light and/or movement effects in space and time. There are also pieces to be reassembled, documentation for nearly every artwork, and old, functional parts that had been replaced (like light filament bulbs). Each artwork created by Schöffer is an improvement on the previous work, the development of his idea one step further, and having full access to the entire collection helps us to better understand and manage these artworks. For example, the current Musiscope, which had already been conserved and modified by Mrs. Schöffer under the artist’s supervision, has a piano-type keyboard—a replacement from a more technological keyboard—for the effect of a more intuitive aesthetic transition. It is important to grasp the different creation and/or conservation steps to understand the current work.

The transport of the artworks is also a delicate operation, as some extremely sensitive handmade technological pieces have rarely, if ever, been moved. The Musiscope is made of gelatin sheets attached with paper clips to a metal support maintained in a wood structure and connected to engines and lights (fig. 14.4). While some artworks are made with more stable industrial or traditional methods, others, like the Musiscope, are handmade and not very stable, with risks of falling or breaking. The gelatin and aluminum sheets are very fragile, and the electronic components have to be consolidated and protected. A classic crate is not sufficient; every piece must be stabilized before transport, with an appropriate solution for crating them.

If some obsolete technological industrialized parts are considered replaceable, with caution and documentation (Citation: Dazord 2013 [Dazord, Cécile. 2013. “Conserver à l’heure du consommable.” Techné: Conserver l’art contemporain à l’ère de l’obsolescence technologique 7 (3): 11–19. Paris: Centre de Recherche et de Restauration des Musées de France.]; Citation: Imbert 2000 [Imbert, Nicolas. 2000. “La restauration et la conservation des oeuvres animées, problèmes de méthodes illustrées par deux cas pratiques.” Conservation-restauration des biens culturels (16): 33–37.]), these handmade parts are not. They require more traditional conservation practice that preserves the materials but allows functionality. The readability principle—allowing the public to “read” the artwork—of conservation applies here to function (Citation: Gagneux 2007 [Gagneux, Dominique. 2007. “Doit-on entretenir le mouvement d’une oeuvre cinétique?” Coré: conservation et restauration du patrimoine culturel 19 (December): 13–18.]), as the artist wanted to preserve the intangible effects of his works. The whole contemporary art conservation process of decision making and investigation of artwork and the artist’s intent allows these effects to be respected and conserved. To achieve this aim practically also involves electromechanical engineering, which is not typically part of a conservator’s training. However, this was once true of chemistry as well and that discipline has been slowly introduced into conservation curriculums, with the help of conservation scientists. Why not electromechanical engineering at some point? Considering Derek Pullen’s question about the role of the conservator (Citation: Pullen 2005 [Pullen, Derek. 2005. “Electronic Media: Thinking the Conservator’s Role.” In Hummelen and Sillé 2005: 300–301.]), I think that I need to do more than simply know the artist’s intent, but I cannot be a specialist in each process used in complex and variable contemporary artworks; artists also ask for the help of engineers.

In this context, “studio knowledge” is an important part of the transmission, and it is attained by collaborative conservation work in the studio. Keeping a step back to remain analytical, I needed to adapt my understanding to their practice in order to document it. The aim is also to learn the specificity of the works, such as value of the cybernetic parameters of Schöffer’s artworks or the effects of obsolete parts, but not to become an artist’s assistant. We discussed our differences in practices during conservation of the Musiscope. Artist and assistant Santiago Torres wanted to preserve the original materials as much as possible, and made an aesthetic intervention for better light effects, also required by Mrs. Schöffer. I was looking for a more reversible or limited intervention in a long-term perspective. This approach, as well as learning from previous examples, experiences, and failures, helped us to understand each other: we both had the same aim, simply different ways that could be combined to reach it. It helps to specify the values and key parameters of the effects of the artist’s works on one side and highlight the input of the conservation profession on the other.

From the Artist’s Studio to the Museum: The Conservator’s Role

Artworks owned by an artist, or even by his rights holder, are still connected to a creation process and have both moral and property rights. When these artworks enter a museum, the institutional process will stabilize them and change their relation to time, with historical values and the need for long-term conservation (Citation: Rodriguez 2013 [Rodriguez, Véronique. 2013. “Exposition d’oeuvres d’art et variation, pratique des artistes post-studio” In Variations et pérennité des oeuvres contemporaines?, edited by Francine Couture, 7–44. Montréal: Éditions MultiMondes.]). This raises and will continue to raise many issues, like those discussed here, between the conservator and the widow but also helps define the transfer contract. The process highlights that variability may be preserved within a museum framework that is discussed with the artist and based on ethics about interpretation and replacement. It is more difficult to consider the sales, production, or reedition of artworks based on plans (for which Mrs. Schöffer has moral rights) for works that were never sanctioned by the artist and differ greatly from reproduction. More in-depth documentation is also needed, beginning with the archives and a project on different documentation types, including electronic programs. Finally, presentation and use of artworks will make them accessible to more people although in a more restrictive way, even for artworks that require essential public interaction such as the Musiscope, which has to be played to perform the artwork.

The conservator’s involvement at the beginning of a museum project offers an opportunity to preserve the continuous existence of these artworks in their new environment. The specific position of the conservator in this situation has highlighted how professional competences could have both expected and unexpected impacts on the collection.

An important aspect has been recognition of the collection. The communication skills with the artist’s rights holder and the social approach have led to trust that has allowed the project to be relaunched. Contact with the different stakeholders has been and remains crucial to draw attention to some aspects through better understanding of the collection. Both archival and practical research were needed to build the inventory, which was a necessary document for various officials’ recognition, for judicial negotiation, and for such pragmatic considerations as building needs, among others.

Ethical and theoretical knowledge is also required to make connections and find a balance between the artist and the museum’s standards. A common language is needed, and an awareness of long-term issues in contemporary art conservation, particularly of variable media, to contemplate production, replacement, movement conservation, the artist’s intention, and the rights holders’ interpretation.

Finally, practical skills and approaches remain essential for these extremely fragile artworks with specific needs. Conservation of pieces with industrial and handmade components is delicate and requires an interdisciplinary approach. Both studio and conservation knowledge is essential to the safe transport and presentation of these works, which have to function, and to the performance of regular preventive measures.

The transition of this cybernetic collection from the artist’s studio to the museum—wherever it will take place—is a complex exercise of transmission in which the role of the conservator, working with the different stakeholders, is critical in a global, upstream, and integrated approach.

Notes