Surrounded by artworks in various states of ravage and disrepair, art conservator Rick Strilky surveys his latest project, propped upright on roller wheels in the corner. He shakes his head disgustedly as a smocked assistant delicately wipes at the painting’s disfigured faces with a solvent-soaked cotton swab. Even though this painting was already treated to weeks of water-and-aerosol “surfactant” cleaning, its blemishes cling stubbornly.
City officials hope Harlem Station can be reinstalled this spring, but Strilky’s reluctant to promise to meet a deadline. “This isn’t like a museum exhibit,” he says. Besides, he’s more accustomed to dealing with creeping villains like water damage and time decay than with deliberate defacement.
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One thing is certain: when Harlem Station is finally returned to the el platform, the mural will be behind a protective glass case. When Strilky sealed the restoration bid from the city, he said he wouldn’t go through with the project unless the CTA agreed to budget in some tamper-proof protective measures.
But Walker’s far-northwest-side campaign had an ulterior motive: to generate cash. The city can’t afford restoration funds, and getting the mural back on track, he says, will cost about $60,000–$30,000 for renovation, moving, and storage and $30,000 for a new protective glass case. The city hopes to get half the amount through private donations and the other half from the National Endowment for the Arts. (Donations are being accepted by the Katz Restoration Fund, c/o the Public Art Program, 78 E. Washington, Chicago 60602. Groups or individuals donating $500 or more will be listed on a bronze plaque to be installed next to the refurbished mural.)
Born in New York City in 1927, Katz is widely considered one of the most significant American artists to have emerged since 1950. His work, primarily portraits, is characterized by radically simplified, dramatically cropped oversized heads that recall movies, advertising, and billboards. Early in his career, he did a series of paintings based on people he saw riding the New York subways. (Author Ann Beattie wrote her only nonfiction book, Alex Katz, following the artist’s 1986 retrospective at New York’s Whitney Museum.)
In May 1990, Harlem Station was boarded up with plywood panels to protect it from further damage. “Don’t let the Katz stay under wraps,” beseeched an advertisement from the city placed on Congress-Douglas-O’Hare trains beginning in April 1991. “The painting stands as a jewel in Chicago’s collection, and needless to say, one well worth preserving,” said the poster, “but we need community involvement and financial support.”
Back in the studio, Strilky inspects the friendly but defaced faces. As his assistant continues to swab a white woman’s marker-marred face, he points to a swastika that had been key-etched into a black businessman’s cheek. He says he’ll soon be using a microscope to “in-paint” these etched gouges.
