During the first day of an international conference of experts who love and study giant cylindrical panoramic paintings -- we call them cycloramas in the U.S. -- one attendee asked a question informed by equal parts wonder and envy:
Why? she wanted to know. Why would a wealthy donor give $10 million to save Atlanta's own cycloramic painting, the "Battle of Atlanta"?
She asked the question during a Thursday presentation by Gordon Jones, military historian at the Atlanta History Center, where the newly-restored monumental painting was the center of attention.
About 35 professionals from the U.S., Canada, Europe and Russia were gathered at the center's new Lloyd and Mary Ann Whitaker Cyclorama Building.
Credit: Copyright 2019 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. Copyright 2019 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. Copyright 2019 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Credit: Copyright 2019 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. Copyright 2019 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. Copyright 2019 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
During the three-day meeting of the International Panorama Council they will tour the restored painting, learn about its rebirth and study the techniques that made its resuscitation possible.
Perhaps they won’t learn the secrets of the heart, the reason that a Buckhead businessman and his wife decided to dedicate $10 million to keeping the painting alive. But raising cash is among their chief concerns.
“The only place where you can find $25 million for a restoration is here,” said Dominique Hanson, curator at the Royal Military Museum in Brussels, Belgium. Hanson’s meaning was clear: “here” is here in the U.S.
Hanson has two enormous panoramic paintings in storage back home, where they are waiting for an 8 million-euro infusion to come back to life.
Irina Gribova came from Moscow, where the “Battle of Borodino” is on display in a state-run museum. She said her audience enjoys this large-scale rendering of Russia’s climactic 1812 fight with Napoleon’s army.
But since it belongs to the state, the visitors believe the state should pay for its maintenance, she said, and those costs are prohibitively high.
Attendees at the conference were impressed with Atlanta’s treatment of its gargantuan canvas.
“Remarkable,” said Hanson.
“We face many problems,” said Gribova. “I wanted to see the best experience.”
Not every American panorama has it easy. Liz Crooks, director of the University of Iowa’s Natural History Museum, attended the conference to seek advice about caring for a unique artifact. Housed in a Beaux Arts building at her Iowa City museum is a 148-foot painting of a scene from Laysan Island, a tiny speck of land in the Pacific Ocean, once home to 8 million birds.
During an early 1900s trip to the island by naturalists and muralists, 100 of those birds were killed, stuffed and brought back to Iowa to serve as part of the painting’s diorama. (That was the way they studied nature in 1914.)
Problem: The painting is in an unheated building, coated with coal dust and needs care. The stuffed birds could also use a bath. “If we don’t act in the next five years it will be too late,” said Crooks.
The visiting panoramic experts envied Atlanta’s climate controlled building, its perfect lighting and the meticulous care given to the painting. But mostly they envied the city’s ongoing emotional connection to the painting, a connection that made its resurrection possible.
Jean-Claude Brunner of Austria, an independent researcher attending the conference, bemoaned the fate of a panoramic painting in Prague, featuring a battle from the Hussite Wars. It sits in what is essentially an amusement park, next to a hall of mirrors.
During Jones' presentation, he discussed the early history of cycloramas which were, indeed, created for the amusement. He pointed out that the very few surviving cycloramas (including one at Gettysburg National Military Park) have now become treasured artifacts, windows into the sensibility of a vanished time.
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