Decoupage: a poor man’s art no more
Paul Joseph Walkowski
Decoupage: a poor man’s art no more, the medium comes alive in the hands of an artist whose palette is nature’s gift.
Guilds are sprouting in the United States and Europe, and people, art buyers especially, are beginning to take a second look at the offerings contemporary artists are bringing to a profession that was once a rich man’s, then a poor man’s, and for a time, nobody’s choice of art.
In the late 17th century, intricately painted and lacquered furniture and porcelain vases from China were in such high demand among European kings and nobility, and original works of art were so expensive and hard to come by, that the demand for less expensive reproductions soon flooded the world marketplace.
Those who couldn’t afford original works of art by popular artists, gladly settled for copies that were often cut out or traced, enhanced, glued to furniture, then covered with dozens of layers of lacquer to look like originals under glass. While the pieces were beautiful, the originality and quality of workmanship that went into the images was not that of the decoupeur.
The practice became even more popular during the 18th and 19th centuries when interest in the art form was revived and the proliferation of mass produced cut paper, floral collages and fanciful silhouettes for everything imaginable came onto the market. Accomplished and amateur artisans were kept busy copying and producing a high volume of what became known as a poor man’s art, or in some places "lacca contrafatta" on everything from lamp shades to jewelry boxes. Even Marie Antoinette and her court ladies are said to have passed the day trying their hand at creating memorable pieces.
Like inexpensive polyester, however, decoupage was oversold and devalued by less than predictable workmanship. By the late 19th century the art form fell out of favor. Lacquered works of art, except for the true originals, never got the respect they deserved from the art community and, hence, languished.
How times have changed:
Today, decoupage in its many forms is attracting a large, enthusiastic and artistic following. Guilds are sprouting in the United States, Japan and Europe, and people, art buyers especially, are beginning to take a second look at the offerings contemporary artists are bringing to a profession that was once a rich man’s, then a poor man’s, and for a time, nobody’s choice of art.
A new breed of decoupeur is emerging. They are creating unique, intricate works that are both artistically meritorious in their own right and eminently collectable. One such artisan is Massachusetts resident Susan A. Cicconi. Her work, Spirit of Flowers draws from over two decades of experience as an art restorer and paper conservator, as well as her work as an accomplished photographer and artist. Her palette is not dabs of colorful paint, but the lily, the rose, a sunflower, mums, coreopsis and pansies, to name a few. Her canvas is a crystal bowl or vase or hand blown glassware.
Spirit of Flowers is comprised of pressed and dried, authentic flowers secured with archival adhesives and affixed to crystal and glassware. "All pieces," Cicconi stresses, "are meticulously sealed in multicolored acid-free and lignin-free Japanese rice papers, sanded to achieve a desired smoothness, then coated with a non-yellowing protective sealant."
A decoupeur emerges:Upon graduating from Manhattanville College in 1978, with degrees in Art History and French, Cicconi traveled to Paris to pursue her art education. While attending the Ecole du Louvre, a chance meeting and subsequent invitation from Dianne O’Neal, an American who had been restoring fine art both in New York and Paris and who also happened to be the chief paper conservator at the Museum of Modern Art in Paris, changed Susan’s life forever. "Dianne was looking for an apprentice and since we shared several common interests," Cicconi says, "I expressed a desire to pursue the profession." After a four week intensive trial period Cicconi was offered the position. "I have this perfectionist, detail-oriented nature and I knew I could do it."
Soon she was assisting in restoring 36 original drawings by Pablo Picasso – work that was eventually shown as part of a centennial retrospective in Munich in 1981. "All of the drawings," she says, "were the opening focal point to the exhibit and the reward and satisfaction was truly tremendous."
Cicconi returned to New York in 1981, and was called upon again to work with her mentor, O’Neal, this time by the government of France. "The French government had possession of an 18th century watercolor scroll that needed complete restoration." The scroll had been left in its original box, measuring 2 feet long by 4 inches square. Cicconi describes the scroll as "dirty and torn in several places with many missing pieces." When it was completely restored, one year later, it measured 8 feet long. It hangs today in the office of the Mayor of Bordeaux, France.
In 1982, Cicconi returned to Boston and was referred to William Sarill by The Fogg Art Museum in Cambridge. The introduction was serendipitous. Sarill, owner of The Restoration Lab and considered by many to be the pioneer in comic book conservation, asked if she would join him in his work. "I was not interested in it at first," Cicconi says. "To me it was just newsprint." Little did she know it would turn into a career. She worked with Sarill for a couple of years, "learning the properties and specifics of comic books: paper fiber, mending and filling holes and color inpainting."
Her knowledge of paper conservation and fine art restoration, as well as her skill as an accomplished artist, resulted in her becoming internationally known over the next ten years as a premier restorer of vintage American comic books. She purchased the business from Sarill outright in 1986, and by 1991 was selected by Sotheby’s as their restorer of choice for their historic collectible auctions.
So how did this gifted artist, who has restored everything from Picasso to Superman comic books end up in decoupage? "It started 15 months ago" she says, "while watching an artisan show about the art of applying dried flowers to glass bowls." Her interest was piqued and within a few months she was shopping for hand blown glass and authentic crystal in a wide variety of shapes and styles. Although she sometimes buys two or three of the same piece, she is careful not to duplicate the work or color scheme. "I am blessed with a photographic memory," she says, "so my visual skills are very intense. Every piece is unique."
"To begin," Cicconi says, "pressing out flowers is a very meticulous task. I have to be very careful to lay all of the petals flat within a book." Weeks and sometimes months go by before they are chosen for display. Only then, she emphasizes, are they applied to the glass area "with a swift yet smooth stroke of the brush." Rice papers are then torn carefully in order to bond with the adjacent pieces. "On occasion," she says, "I will add a paper cut-out such as a Japanese silk screen or decorative floral pattern to accent a particular design." On other projects she will add a touch of watercolor, "to enhance the character of a particular piece."
"I love coordinating colors and, of course, creating these terrific compositions – some light, some dark, some simple and some complicated." Often she’ll combine three or four flowers in one composition. "I do consider my work as ephemeral on the one hand, because the flowers are organic, nature’s beautiful gifts, but because of the skill and workmanship involved, each piece is also eternal."
One creation, she says, required that she spend the better part of a day pressing flower petals into position, ensuring a proper bond to the crystal’s surface. "The tendency is for the petal to retract from the glass as it dries," she explained, adding, "You have make sure that the bond is firm around every flower. If you split a petal, or press too firmly," she says, "the entire effect can be lost."
Cicconi says the piece "really shines" when the finished detail is completed. "Edges are carefully scalpeled so as not to chip the paper or glass." She completes each piece by sandpapering, "alternating coats of protective sealant to achieve the desired texture, smoothness and gloss."
Cicconi says she views her form of decoupage as on the cutting edge of the art form, "with an awesome sense of detail, expertise in paper conservation, manual dexterity and perfectionism." Her work, carried exclusively by Winstanley-Roark Fine Arts Gallery in Dennis, MA, has generated interest from buyers who find the use of flowers to create the colorful presentations intriguing. This is the first step, she says, in introducing the art buying public to decoupage as an art form, instead of just a pretty decoration. "I would like, first, for art buyers to be captured by the beauty of the piece, but I also want them to understand the skill and workmanship involved. I believe they will then fully appreciate it as un vrai objet d’art."