An anonymous reader writes: Last summer I polled the great art houses of Europe with a seemingly straightforward question: Had they had any recent experiences with mold in their collections? Mold is a perennial scourge in museums that can disfigure and destroy art and artifacts. To keep this microbial foe in check, institutions follow protocols designed to deter the familiar fungi that thrive in humid settings. But it seems a new front has opened in this long-standing battle. I’d recently heard rumblings that curators in my then home base of Denmark have been wrestling with perplexing infestations that seem to defy the normal rules of engagement. I wondered how pervasive the problem might be.
My survey did not make me popular. Some museums responded quickly—too quickly, perhaps, to have checked with their curators. Ten minutes after receiving my inquiry, the press office at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence assured me unequivocally that there was no mold at the Uffizi. The museum declined to connect me with the curatorial team or restoration department. Many institutions—the Louvre, the British Museum, the Musée d’Orsay—didn’t respond to my calls and e-mails at all. I eventually came to suspect the Vatican Museum had blocked my number. Frustrating though it was, this is the reception I expected. Asking a curator if their museum has problems with mold is like asking if they have a sexually transmitted disease. It’s contagious, it’s taboo, and it carries the inevitable implication someone has done something naughty.
Consequently, mold is spoken of in whispers in the museum world. Curators fear that even rumors of an infestation can hurt their institution’s funding and blacklist them from traveling exhibitions. When an infestation does occur, it’s generally kept secret. The contract conservation teams that museums hire to remediate invasive mold often must vow confidentiality before they’re even allowed to see the damage. But a handful of researchers, from in-house conservators to university mycologists, are beginning to compare notes about the fungal infestations they’ve tackled in museum storage depots, monastery archives, crypts and cathedrals. A disquieting revelation has emerged from these discussions: there’s a class of molds that flourish in low humidity, long believed to be a sanctuary from decay. By trying so hard to protect artifacts, we’ve accidentally created the “perfect conditions for [these molds] to grow,” says Flavia Pinzari, a mycologist at the Council of National Research of Italy. “All the rules for conservation never considered these species.”
These molds—called xerophiles—can survive in dry, hostile environments such as volcano calderas and scorching deserts, and to the chagrin of curators across the world, they seem to have developed a taste for cultural heritage. They devour the organic material that abounds in museums—from fabric canvases and wood furniture to tapestries. They can also eke out a living on marble statues and stained-glass windows by eating micronutrients in the dust that accumulates on their surfaces. And global warming seems to be helping them spread. Most frustrating for curators, these xerophilic molds are undetectable by conventional means. But now, armed with new methods, several research teams are solving art history cold cases and explaining mysterious new infestations...
