Preserving Lacquer One Paper-Thin Layer at a Time

Lacquer as a decorative art form is so ancient and versatile that archaeologists are still uncovering when it began.

The craft, in which an object is covered in a hard coating made of tree sap, first emerged in East Asia. Some of the earliest known lacquerware pieces—food utensils, ceremonial vessels, carriages and harnesses, bows and arrows, and musical instruments—date back millennia.

Lacquered artifacts have been found in burial sites in Japan estimated to be up to 9,000 years old. This makes the technique older than writing. Today, lacquer artworks are featured in prized collections around the world, including Getty’s.

Artworks containing lacquer can be centuries old and require careful conservation. For over 15 years, Getty’s work in this field has ranged from scientific analysis into the composition and condition of various forms of lacquer, to treating its own lacquered art using emerging techniques, to bringing together the world’s leading lacquer experts—all to help keep the art and craft alive.

But first: what is lacquer?

Traditional Asian lacquer is made from the sap of several trees within the Anacardiaceae family (which are known to contain the same toxic skin irritants found in poison ivy). Converting the raw tree sap into a hard coating is a delicate and lengthy process, one transmitted by lacquer artists and restorers through generations.

After the sap has been harvested, processed, filtered, and prepared with other materials, it is carefully applied onto a surface one paper-thin layer at a time, with each coat cured in a humidity chamber before the next is added. Lacquer is often used to create intricate designs of nature, scenes of everyday life, or seasonal motifs. Wet lacquer may be sprinkled with gold or silver powders (such as in the maki-e technique), or iridescent shell may be cut into shapes and set into the lacquer surface. Carved lacquer can require up to 100 coats, and each layer can take days to cure, before the layers are carved in sculptural, deeply textured patterns.

Once the process is complete, the resin forms a hardy shell that can survive for ages. It’s no wonder this craft has endured for so long, and that it reached and inspired cultures far beyond Asia. In France, for instance, fascination with lacquer began in the 17th century, as part of a broader interest in Asian artistry, and grew so fervent that craftsmen developed their own imitation of Asian lacquer.

One example is the decorative technique Vernis Martin, invented by the Martin brothers, master lacquer artists of Paris. To emulate the lustrous sheen and rich colors of East Asian lacquerware, European artisans used materials available on the local market. The Martin brothers were renowned for perfecting their imitation lacquer and collaborated with cabinetmakers to decorate furniture that appealed to the refined tastes of the European elite.

As lacquer traveled across cultures and continents, its composition evolved, giving rise to many variations. The way lacquer ages depends on what it’s made of, and understanding those differences is vital for conservation. Until recently, that knowledge was incomplete.

Responding to this gap in the field, researchers at Getty developed protocols for sampling and analyzing organic and inorganic materials in lacquer. Using the procedures to study nine pieces of 18th-century French lacquered furniture from Getty’s collection, the research team—led by scientist Michael Schilling of the Conservation Institute and conservator Arlen Heginbotham of the Museum—successfully determined whether the materials in each layer derived from Asian or European lacquer. The studies also revealed unusual ingredients in the Asian lacquer, such as wood oil, fermented persimmon juice, and shellac.

To share these findings with the field, Getty initiated the workshop series Recent Advances in Characterizing Asian Lacquer (RAdICAL). More than 100 scientists and conservators have attended workshops since the inception of the series in 2012. The most recent gathering was held in Beijing in April 2024, and plans are underway to hold an event in Japan.

Now, researchers are building on this work with a new investigation into an 18th-century French commode from the Museum’s collection. The object is raising challenging questions and leading to new insights.

Uncommon commode

In 18th-century France, merchants regularly imported lacquered objects (such as screens and cabinets) from China and Japan, dismantled them, and incorporated their cut-out sections into French furniture. Craftsmen would thin the panels and use heat to conform them to the shape of the furniture.

One Rococo commode in Getty’s collection exemplifies this practice. Crafted by Bernard II van Risenburgh around 1737, it incorporates Japanese lacquer panels—salvaged from the doors of a dismantled cabinet—which were carefully thinned and cut to fit the chest’s curved oak frame. The design features Japanese black lacquer decorated with landscapes in the maki-e technique.

French craftsmen framed the central Japanese panels with imitation lacquer (Vernis Martin) made from pine resin mixed with oil and black pigments and decorated with Japanese-style illustrations, then ornamented the ensemble with gilt-bronze mounts, resulting in an object that merged Asian and European cultures and craftsmanship.

“The French were fascinated by the exceptional quality of Asian decorative arts, and they also had one of the most sophisticated cabinetmaking traditions in the world,” says Heginbotham, whose background is in furniture conservation. “This cabinet brings together the best of both worlds. It is a remarkable hybrid masterpiece that celebrates the artistic cross-pollination between Europe and Asia in the 18th century.”

This blend of traditions has created some remarkable pieces. But it has also complicated their treatment and care.

Getting it down to a science

Over time, the commode has lost its original luster. Various protective varnishes were applied to the object, but they have degraded and darkened. Getty conservators are working to recover some of the initial vibrancy and contrast in the lacquer’s golden tones. But first, they had to understand the object’s restoration journey and the materials used in its creation.

Over several months, a team from across the Conservation Institute and Museum, along with an external consultant, examined the commode using ultraviolet light, X-ray, and X-ray fluorescence (XRF) scans, the last being a method used to identify the elemental composition of an object. XRF mapping revealed that the Japanese lacquer contained gold and silver, while the European lacquer used copper and brass. The team could also see European restorations over the original Japanese lacquer.

Identifying these layers raised a crucial question: what should be removed versus preserved?

Stéphanie Auffret, furniture conservator at the Conservation Institute, explains: “You don't want to take away all the restoration—there are some restorations that are very old, very high quality. You don’t necessarily want to come back to the original surface.”

When conserving art, it’s important that the history of the object be preserved as well. In the case of the commode, materials that may be interpreted as restorations could have been part of the creation of the object or related to damage made to the Asian lacquer panels when they were applied to the French piece.

“This is one of the most difficult conservation projects I have ever done in my 25 years at Getty,” says Heginbotham, who is in charge of the treatment of the commode. “The restoration history is very complex, so we’ve been doing everything we can to understand what was added and what was lost at each stage of its history. Then we have to make very carefully considered decisions about exactly what restorations to remove now and how to compensate for losses.”

The team has even consulted outside experts from France and Japan to help repair the nearly 300-year-old commode.

Currently, the conservators are testing gels to reduce darkened varnishes on sensitive decorative surfaces. These gels have been shown to be safe for the users, the environment, and the object. The results from this work will benefit both Museum visitors and the broader conservation field, particularly those working with lacquered objects.

A living tradition

To ensure the future of the craft, Getty organized a global exchange of expertise. Last spring, over a dozen lacquer experts convened at the Getty Center to explore how to protect this precious art form while honoring its diverse cultural roots. The meeting brought together specialists representing Asian, European, and Latin American lacquer traditions. Participants discussed conservation challenges, research and training needs, treatment approaches, and how to address the international decline in specialists of lacquer conservation.

“I think this was the first time that we had an event with experts representing these three types of lacquer,” Auffret says. “To my knowledge, that had never been done before.”

The gathering reflected lacquer’s transcontinental journey. Beyond its Asian origins and European adoption, lacquer traditions also took root in Latin America: in colonial Brazil, European-inspired lacquer appeared in baroque church interiors, while in Mexico and Colombia, artists used local resins for their designs. Preserving these diverse objects requires preserving the art form itself, but how do you do this when different regions approach it so differently?

In Asia, a lacquer restorer is a lacquer artist first, since the craft requires extraordinarily difficult techniques. In addition, the region also has a tradition of apprenticeships, where students gain hands-on skills by training closely with a mentor. Mastery of the art form is a crucial aspect of learning how to conserve it.

“You look at Chinese red lacquer carved objects where you have a hundred layers of lacquer thick enough that you can carve, and the level of craftsmanship is just phenomenal,” Auffret says. “It’s an insanely high level of craftsmanship that I don’t think many people can still do today.”

Japan places high value on preserving such rare expertise. One of the experts who attended the meeting, Tomoya Murose, comes from a well-known family of lacquer artists. His father, Kazumi Murose, is what the Japanese call a Living National Treasure—someone with exceptional craftsmanship and knowledge who receives government funding to train the next generation.

In North America, by contrast, conservation professionals are trained in academic programs that emphasize scientific analysis. “This is not a bad thing,” Auffret says, “except, in the process, we’re losing a lot of connection with the objects and the people who made the objects.”

Perhaps the solution lies in learning directly from artisans who have preserved the art of creating lacquer alongside the knowledge of restoring it—traditions as old as lacquer itself. By combining this craft knowledge with scientific analysis, researchers at Getty are working to develop conservation treatments that honor both the material and its long history of masterful artistry.