GOLD STANDARD PRESERVATION: ASSESSING THE EFFECTS OF FREEZING GILDED INSECTS FOR INTEGRATED PEST MANAGEMENT, AND A CRITICAL DIALOGUE ON ART–SCIENCE COLLABORATION
Abstract
In 2018, artist Cole Swanson created Monument, an evolving installation of reclaimed insects gilded in 24-karat gold leaf. Ahead of its 2024 exhibition at the Canadian Museum of Nature, Swanson partnered with conservator Erika Range to explore whether these delicate, composite specimens could safely undergo the museum’s integrated pest management (IPM) freezing protocol. Nine insects were selected and examined before and after freezing using high-resolution imaging and scanning electron microscopy (SEM). No physical damage was observed, suggesting freezing may be viable for similarly constructed bio-artworks. Beyond its technical findings, this project emerged as a dialogue between artist and conservator. Through an exchange of perspectives, this article reflects on risk, reversibility, and the shared ethics of care that underpin both artistic and scientific practice. Monument not only prompted procedural adaptation within the museum, but also became a site of interdisciplinary meaning-making. This collaboration demonstrates how material studies can be enriched through art–science partnerships, and how institutional practices may evolve through openness to experimental objects and unconventional knowledge sources. By combining studio and laboratory, aesthetics and analysis, Monument serves as both subject and catalyst for rethinking how we care for the natural world and its representations.
Introduction
In 2022, the David Suzuki Foundation and Rewilding Magazine created the inaugural juried Rewilding Arts Prize. According to the Foundation, “Art can be a powerful tool to educate, advocate and inspire. Given the climate and biodiversity crises, we need the ingenuity and creativity of artists more than ever to help meet the profound challenges we face” (The David Suzuki Foundation 2024). The Canadian Museum of Nature (CMN) exhibited the work of both the winners and the runners-up in an exhibition that opened in October 2024. Conservators at the museum are involved in exhibitions on many levels, from establishing appropriate lighting, climate, case design, and mounting for a range of materials, objects, and specimens. At a natural history museum, collections are especially prone to insect and pest infestations, which can cause irreparable damage. At CMN, conservators have established an integrated pest management (IPM) program aimed at reducing the risk of museum pests infecting the collection and exhibition spaces. The program includes extensive trapping and monitoring of pest activity and protocols around food in offices and galleries. Freezing incoming specimens, exhibitry, and event materials for 7 days at −20°C in large walk-in freezers is common practice to reduce the risk of bringing unwanted pests into the exhibition spaces. When materials are deemed too vulnerable to freeze, they are carefully inspected by conservators.
The CMN’s IPM process raised a few questions for Cole Swanson’s 2018 installation titled Monument. It features hundreds of insect specimens carefully hand-gilded with 24-karat gold leaf (Giusto Manetti Goldbeaters, 24-karat gold, double thick). This initial work was a culmination and continuation of 5 years of collecting and gilding and is still evolving, with new insects being added for the 2024 installation at the CMN. Gilding any surface creates a laminated structure of substrate, adhesive or size, metal, and sometimes a varnish (Hartin 2017). All these materials react to environmental changes slightly differently, which is why freezing laminated composite materials like gilding is often not recommended by conservators (Michaelski 1991, Raphael 1992, Carrlee 2003, Beiner and Ogilvie 2005, Sawicki 2017).
Because Monument is one of the few installation pieces in the world that incorporates insects and the element gold (Au), conservators were faced with a challenge in preparing for this installation. Research was undertaken to seek a precedent and to understand the risks and anticipated outcome for freezing gilded insects better. In Insects in Oral Literature and Traditions, Barrett Anthony Klein (2003) provides a comprehensive summary of examples of insects and arachnids as art media, and lists only one example of combining insects and gold: Artist Hubert Duprat “collaborated with” caddisfly larvae in his work Trichoptères to create tiny gold sculptures held together with silk. Duprat gave the larvae gold flakes, rods, and small precious and semi-precious stones to build their protective houses (Duprat et al. 1998, Jobson 2014, Kelham 2021). Looking further afield, conservators became acquainted with The Gilded Vectors of Disease (Datta 2019), a work composed of gilded bronze animals, eight of which are arthropods, that decorates the exterior of the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine (UK); the Ueno Toshogu shrine in Tokyo, Japan, erected in 1627, which showcases polychrome and gilt depictions of insects and other animals (Cali et al. 2013); and George Sellers’ large-scale sculptures of insects, which he gilds in gold (Sherman 2012). An internet search yielded numerous commercial artists with gilded or imitation-gilded insects for sale; however, all found examples postdate Cole Swanson’s Monument. The uniqueness of this piece exemplifies the need for research into its construction and its preservation.
Our research explored the effects of freezing a small representative sample of the specimens in Monument and analyzing them before and after treatment using scanning electron microscopy (SEM) and high-resolution imaging microscopy to identify any visible changes and perceived damage to the gilded surface, sizing, or insect specimens. This paper also explores an intersection of natural science and art, a long-practiced but rarely examined juncture. These gilded insect specimens epitomize this convergence. Through this fusion, they serve as both scientific specimens and objects of aesthetic contemplation, capturing the imagination of observers. The intricate details of each insect, highlighted by the gold, evoke a sense of wonder and appreciation for the complexity of the natural world. In their gilded form, these specimens bridge the gap between disciplines, inviting viewers to ponder the interplay between artistry and scientific understanding. In addition, this collaboration subverts hierarchies within nature by showcasing the complexity and beauty of specimens and species that are typically rejected or ignored by a modern public. This research fills a void in conservation and natural history literature, exploring the effects of freezing for pest management on atypical, gilded surfaces.
Monument
Monument is an artwork that never ends. Cole Swanson has been collecting most of the insect remains he has encountered in daily life since 2013—a practice he continues today. Based in Toronto, he has been growing a collection that demonstrates ecological flows in the insect world as they relate to situated encounters with human movements and habitation throughout the province. Unsurprisingly, house flies (Musca domestica) make up the majority of specimens in the artwork, but a striking array of other species is also present. Because they were collected serendipitously, reclaimed specimens were not chosen based on their level of intactness; rather, most insects in the artwork have tattered wings and missing limbs. To explore grief in the wake of extraordinary declines in common insect populations worldwide (Entomological Society of America 2019), Swanson ritually applies 24-karat gold leaf upon the wings, elytra, abdomens, and eyes of his specimens. After gilding, Swanson creates geospatial maps based on multiple scales, marking the time and location of each insect’s death. Threaded together in gold silk and mounted on gallery walls in shifting arrangements across its iterations, Monument (Fig. 1) demarcates the rapidly changing nature of human–insect relations and is ever-evolving as insect populations transform and decline into the future.
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Gilding carries rich historical and cultural associations, symbolizing divinity, imperial power, and capital (Bernstein 2000, Swanson 2023) and therefore can shift perceptions of particular insect bodies toward resplendence. Typically reserved for religious texts, spiritual icons, or imperial monuments, gilding in pure gold suggests that the humble insect is worthy of contemplation in death. It is extremely difficult to gild the wings of a desiccated housefly. When applied to common, introduced, and invasive species, insect illumination is a careful gesture that subverts ecological hierarchies.
Gold also holds transcultural aesthetic significance, transforming even the everyday insect into an object of desire. When patrons experience Monument, feelings of wonder and attraction eclipse the impulse to turn away in disgust. This momentary attraction may induce personal reflections on the sobering reality of the ongoing insect apocalypse (Entomological Society of America 2019, Wagner et al. 2021). In such an arrangement, both the artist and patron share equal responsibility to reflect inwardly, and through acquiring heightened multispecies attention, consider unlikely forms of kinship in the future.
While elegiac in nature, Monument does provide ecological insights that may be of interest to science practitioners. Swanson has demonstrated the changing presence of insects in Ontario over the past decade plus, which includes the recent proliferation of invasive species like the European firebug (Pyrrhocoris apterus) in Toronto. The nature of Swanson’s work’s materials comprising organic, inorganic, and petrochemical constituents provides a unique opportunity to study the material effects of museum conservation practices on sensitive bio-artwork.
Linear Expansivity
Understanding the dimensional change, or linear expansivity, of the materials involved is a key factor in this research. Materials respond to changes in temperature by expanding or contracting. This is particularly important whenever different materials are in close contact. Severe mechanical stresses can occur whenever composite objects are exposed to temperature fluctuations (Selwyn 2004:73–80). This is because different materials will respond at different rates and by different amounts, causing uneven expansion and contraction of an object. Table 1 shows the hypothetical linear expansivity of a 1-m length of gold, acrylic adhesive (such as in water-based gilding size, which Swanson used), and chitin (the primary material in insect exoskeletons) when changing from 20°C to −20°C, such as what would occur during pest treatment at the CMN. The change of length (ΔL) of a piece of material in response to a change in temperature (ΔT) is calculated by the equation ΔL = α ΔTL, where α is the coefficient of linear expansion (The Engineering Toolbox 2003, Selwyn 2004, Rumble et al. 2024). We can see by these calculations that acrylic and chitin behave similarly, and although the differences are fractional, the acrylic and chitin contract more than the gold.
Despite their disparate compositions and traditional “functions,” all three of the main materials demonstrate relatively low, and very similar, linear expansivity coefficients (The Engineering Toolbox 2003, Selwyn 2004, Wada and Saito 2021, Rumble et al. 2024). This shared characteristic suggests very similar dimensional changes in response to fluctuations in temperature will occur.
Methodology
Specimens
Nine insect specimens were shipped to the Canadian Museum of Nature in the winter of 2024. The species included were three common house flies (Musca domestica), two horseflies (Hybomitra lasiophthalma), two carpenter bees (Xylocopa virginica), one Japanese beetle (Popillia japonica), and one three-lined hoplia beetle (Hoplia trifasciata). The specimens arrived in a 4 × 3 in. (10.16 × 7.62 cm) white cardboard specimen box, lined with Volara, a closed-cell polyethylene foam, in the bottom. The insects are pinned using entomology pins and spaced evenly in the box (Fig. 2). Some of the insects are upside down on their pins (belly up), intended to highlight the veins in a specimen's wings. In this manner, the gold illuminates the anatomical structures in the same way you might observe color through a stained-glass window (Swanson 2023).
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Gilding
The insects in Monument were gilded using traditional methods and contemporary media. The artist used 24-karat gold leaf (Giusto Manetti Battiloro 2024) and Dux water-based acrylic gilding size applied directly to the insects. The size is applied to a surface and allowed to dry slightly, but it remains tacky for a brief window of time to receive the gold. Gold leaf is applied to the sticky size layer with a squirrel-hair paint brush and tweezers. Gold leaf is often applied to frames, architecture, or other larger substrates. Gilding a small, delicate insect wing, elytra, thorax, or other body part requires an incredible amount of patience and skill. Figure 3 shows a part of this process.
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Imaging
Before freezing, the specimens were photographed and examined visually using a Leica Z16 APOA macroscope with a Leica DMC5400 20-megapixel camera. The photomicrographs served as excellent “before treatment” status photos, capturing details not easily seen with the naked eye. Typical magnification for these images was 80–100 ×. The Leica software for the macroscope stacks images with narrow depths of field to produce very-high-resolution images. Figure 4 shows a typical before-freezing image using this technique.
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Four specimens were chosen for further imaging using SEM after initial imaging and examination. The CMN uses an FEI Apreo with an Oxford X-Max 20 EDS with Aztec analysis package. Images were obtained using low vacuum mode, low vacuum detector, a spot of 8.0 and an accelerating voltage of 15.00 kV. Typically, samples at CMN are sputter coated using gold or carbon to avoid charging. Charging is the accumulation of electrons on the surface of nonconductive materials, which can create bright spots, image drift or distortion, streaking, or even sudden contrast reversals. Specimens for this study could not be gold or carbon coated, as this would irreversibly alter the appearance of the artwork, nor could they be removed from their specimen pins. This prevented the insects from being attached to sticky carbon-coated stubs, as is usual practice. To troubleshoot this issue, a “bridge” was made using two taller stubs and the entomology pins, which could stick to the carbon disks on top of the stubs. The specimen could remain untouched on the pin—bridged between the tall stubs. This new technique is an adaptation developed by Glenn Poirier, a Senior Research Scientist in the Mineralogy Division at the CMN. A thorough literature review has not revealed this technique being used in an SEM before. Once the specimen was bridged between two stubs, the SEM table could then be angled so a top view of the wing could be viewed. Figure 5 shows one of the carpenter bees about to be loaded into the SEM.
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
The four specimens chosen for SEM analysis had visible areas where the adhesive sizing, gold, and insect body intersected. These intersections were expected to be clearly observed under magnification. One housefly, one horsefly, one beetle, and one bee were chosen, as these also spanned the four different types of insects sent to the CMN. Low vacuum mode was used, as organic specimens often have an issue with charging of the electron images, and the small increase in water vapor in the air can aid in reducing this.
Freezing
Once imaging was completed, specimens were returned to their box to be frozen. The specimen box was placed in a sealable polyethylene bag to maintain and control the relative humidity while in the freezer. All the specimens were frozen at −20°C for 7 days (168 hours) to follow the CMN’s IPM program, which is standard practice for incoming specimens. Once removed from the freezer, specimens were left sealed in their bag over the weekend (48 hours) at room temperature (approximately 20°C) to acclimatize, and for all condensation on the exterior of the bag to evaporate.
Final Imaging and Comparison
The imaging process was repeated after freezing. All nine specimens were imaged using the high-resolution imaging microscope, replicating the same orientations and magnifications to ensure accurate comparisons. The same four specimens that were run through the SEM were again imaged with the best attempt made to find the same location and angle. Images were then compared to their before-freezing photos and changes, if any, were observed.
Results
SEM images and high-resolution photomicrographs taken before and after freezing were compared. Analysis revealed no significant alterations in the surface morphology or structural integrity of the gold gilding, adhesive sizing, or insect surfaces postfreezing.
Photomicrographs
Images captured with the Leica Z16 APOA macroscope before freezing provided detailed views of the specimens' overall appearance and the intricacies of the gilded surface. Postfreezing imaging microscopy using the Leica macroscope was performed to scrutinize the specimens further for any subtle changes. The images obtained after freezing confirmed the preservation of fine details and surface integrity, comparable to the before-treatment images. The high-resolution photomicrographs did not reveal any evidence of structural deformation, surface roughening, loss of gilding or delamination, cracking, or other forms of degradation that could be attributed to the freezing process. Figures 6–8 show before-and-after comparisons of three different specimens.
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
SEM Micrographs
Initial SEM analysis of the specimens revealed intricate details of surface morphology and the fine structures of the insects. The gold gilding appeared relatively uniform across the specimens' surfaces, with folds, cracks, and rough patches observable, while adhering tightly to the exoskeletons without visible defects or irregularities. Although it was difficult to replicate the images exactly at the same angle based on how the specimens are loaded into the SEM, very similar images were obtained, allowing for the best possible comparison of features. Comparative analysis between prefreezing and postfreezing SEM micrographs showed no discernible differences in the surface features of the specimens. The gold leaf remained intact and exhibited the same level of adherence and uniformity as observed before freezing. Figures 9–11 show before-and-after comparisons of SEM images for three different specimens.
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
Citation: Collection Forum 36, 1; 10.14351/0831-4985-36.1.40
The results observed are not surprising, considering that the linear expansivity of the three main materials is so similar. Both the imaging microscope and SEM analysis picked up the same details before and after freezing. The SEM images differ slightly from the before-and-after views because of the angle in which they could be viewed in the machine, and because uncoated organic material experiences a certain degree of charging, which can affect image clarity.
Discussion
In the spirit of art–science collaboration, the following discussion is a conversation between authors Erika Range (conservator and scientist) and Cole Swanson (artist). Reflecting on various dimensions of our research and experience, we highlight how this experiment and its process contribute meaningfully toward advancing specific material concerns in artifact and natural history conservation, while reflecting on the new knowledge generated through interdisciplinary collaboration. To provide a nimble apparatus for exploring these multidimensional contributions, an author-to-author/scientist-to-artist dialogue follows.
CS: I am so pleased to know that my artwork, Monument, has become a catalyst for understanding materials in an expanded way. So, let’s cut to the chase. Was this experiment useful to your discipline and research practice? Are there knowledge applications that might help us better understand emergent natural history collections, museum artifacts, or even artworks as they become integrated into the contemporary museum?
ER: This collaboration and experiment, while simple in methodology and practice, has been and will be useful to natural history conservators as well as artifact conservators. For one, natural history collections are often strictly scientific; their value largely lies in the scientific value they bring to the study of species, populations, climate, and biomes. This project has been wonderful in branching out of that norm. In social history and decorative art collections, we see many gilded objects, but the gilding of insects as an art piece has not been seen before, and therefore any research into your piece is valuable information to share with the art and conservation communities. However, I love that your piece is also scientific; you collect specimens from an urban biome and place them in geospatial maps (Swanson 2023). You highlight what are sometimes considered “pests” and shine a light, both literally and figuratively on them, making viewers look closely at something they might never have examined before.
While the positive results obtained from research cannot universally be applied to all gilded surfaces, it can open doors to further research in natural history conservation science and preserving art pieces which use natural specimens and materials in new and innovative ways. There are likely a few reasons we had success with freezing these particular laminated structures. For one, the linear expansivity is very similar between the three main materials of gold, acrylic sizing, and chitin. The simple calculations done before the experiment predicted the results well. These three materials also have similar moisture content—the insects and adhesive being very dry, as they were prepared in 2018 or earlier. Perhaps if the specimens were more recently prepared, the results would have been different, as they might have a higher moisture content which could affect the outcome. Future research could involve testing some of Monument’s more recently added specimens, or looking at other gilded materials with larger discrepancies in moisture content.
The results from this research certainly augment what is known about treating gilded surfaces using temperature. While the application of gold in Monument is incredibly unique, it overlaps many disciplines within art and object conservation. Preventive conservation measures, such as treating with hot or cold temperatures for possible pest infestations, are fundamental in nearly every cultural institution. Preventive conservation practices save money and time and help maintain the overall health of a collection (Graham 2009, Bülow et al 2018). This research is just another drop in that knowledge bucket.
CS: Whenever a scientist extends an invitation my way toward some sort of collaboration, I feel duly surprised and humbled. Perhaps this is because art is still considered a dubious contender within most institutional research contexts in which the gold standard is predominantly defined by science methods (Daichendt 2012, MacLeod and Holdridge 2006, McNiff 2013, Nelson 2013, Cazeaux 2017). Yet, I have noticed over the past few years that many scientists are enthusiastic allies and companions in expanding the way we think (and feel) about marginal species and their futures. What motivated you to make that initial leap toward collaboration? Why is interdisciplinary research or relationship-building important at this time?
ER: I was so inspired by your piece—it's beautiful! I think I’ve found your commentary in this piece about urban environments—so often understudied by natural history museums that focus on more “wild” populations—along with your discussion of so-called “pests” and the paradoxes you present, to be truly enlightening! I knew that this type of work had never been studied before in conservation literature and knew if we collaborated, we could fill a needed, but unknown, gap. Our IPM program rarely has specimens we cannot freeze, especially in the entomology collection—we have had great success freezing our specimens. However, your piece needed to be treated differently, as the value of your piece (on a few levels) would be affected if any damage occurred from our treatments and process.
I am also always looking for a good reason to use our SEM; the microscopic world is fascinating, and this project presented a great opportunity to look at any possible changes (however small) on a very small surface. I also knew this piece would challenge our methods for the SEM. SEM analysis is a somewhat destructive form of testing and sampling; a carbon or gold coating is usually deposited on the surface of samples to be imaged to avoid charging. This can dull surfaces to the naked eye, and is not reversible. Specimen preparation for the SEM also usually involves placing samples on a sticky carbon disk where it would remain indefinitely, for future research. One of the basic tenets of the modern field of conservation is the principle of reversibility and retreatability, and is found in the Code of Ethics for the American Institute for Conservation (AIC) and the joint Code of Ethics for the Canadian Association for Cultural Property (CAC) and the Canadian Association of Professional Conservators. Any intervention done to an object should be able to be undone (AIC 1994, CAC and CAPC 2000). Of course, there are some treatments that may not be fully reversible, but we still focus on minimizing long-term impacts on objects. Coating Monument’s specimens with carbon or gold would alter their appearance and would not be easily reversible; therefore we were faced with the challenge of uncoated organic specimens in an SEM, which we could not affix to the carbon disks typically used.
Glenn Poirier, CMN’s SEM lab manager and senior research assistant in the Mineralogy department, has seen his fair share of unique specimens. He cleverly adapted his methodology and came up with this wonderful new way to bridge entomology specimens between two SEM stubs, without having to remove them from their pins or coat them. I was thrilled that he was open to respecting the integrity of the art and rose to the challenge.
Though uncommon for those specializing in natural history, conservators sometimes have the chance to collaborate with living contemporary artists. These opportunities are always exciting for me, as they deepen my understanding of materials, processes, and creation, and they provide valuable insights for the care of artworks, specimens, or objects. What has working with a conservation scientist been like from an artist's perspective? Has it changed how you look at the materiality of your work or the natural world?
CS: It occurred to me very early in the process of collaboration that conservation science and art are not polarized practices in the pursuit and creation of knowledge. You made it clear that this kind of project would require unconventional approaches to technology and media with an element of risk to test subjects. Similarly, media manipulation, experimentation, risk, and the possibility of failure are vital mechanisms in a generative art practice. You seemed genuinely excited to work together, and I really admired your openness to place art and science on equal planes while taking up a multimodal approach that builds interspecies care, empathy, and aesthetics into the realms of conservation research and publication. I shouldn’t be surprised by the excitement and fluidity propelling this collaborative process; prior to the Western modern period, science and art occupied the very same intellectual and creative space before being cleaved into distinct and unevenly situated disciplines. It was also clear that we both had a shared investment in preserving both the artwork and more broadly, the ethical lives of insect-others. This commitment was demonstrated through our respective methods in which specimens were shown a considerable amount of care. After they were safely collected, stored, pinned, and gilded, insects were packed, shipped, and received by your team, who designed and employed improvised photo-mounting systems to mitigate physiological harms. Each stage of the artistic and scientific process involved forms of tenderness rarely afforded to common insects, suggesting that even the most battered and broken housefly is worthy of mindful attention.
The SEM images produced through this collaboration have expanded and complicated my own understanding of Monument as an artwork. While they lack the chromatic luster of the insects’ gilding, they showcase significant structural clarity. Appearing flawless to the naked eye, gilded planes that have been magnified to extremes appear rough and clumsy in their execution. Crumpled and torn fragments of gold leaf ooze size along their jagged edges. In contrast, areas beyond sites of human intervention—those occupied by the insect body itself—reveal topographies of incredible beauty and complexity. In short, the gold does very little to build upon the beauty and sophistication of the arthropods' biological designs. If anything, the gilding seems like a vanity tied too firmly to a human preoccupation with specific materials and their cultural-semiotic values. The SEM images might even be called “sublime” in nature; they are simultaneously beautiful, strange, and intimidating in their posthuman corporeality. Viewers can imagine running their fingers through the hair-like projections covering a carpenter bee’s hardened flesh. We can almost feel the insect fur tickle our skin in synesthetic waves. The images invite sensual engagements that are impossible to imagine in the artwork before our interdisciplinary consummation. This form of the sublime is unlike that which was wielded by 18th- and 19th-century Romantics, who coveted nature’s beauty and power toward feats of colonial conquest (Cronon 1996, Lutz 2020). Instead, we are reminded that human tactics and technologies can only ever deliver a microscopic view of so-called nature (pun intended), which can never be fully comprehended, let alone mastered or conquered. Instead, this work is a critical celebration of art and science in their inherent limits while recognizing their potential for co-generative meaning-making.
This project has asked me to re-think my relationship to knowledge itself, where it comes from, and what forms of knowing are valued above others. Has your relationship to knowledge changed in any way? How might you imagine things shifting in your research practice as a result of this kind of knowledge collaboration?
ER: Absolutely, this project has also caused a lot of reflection on my relationship to knowledge sources. Museum work—even that of natural history museums and conservation practice—are deeply rooted in colonialism (Davidson 2017, Das and Lowe 2018, Dudley 2020). Museums traditionally collected and displayed artifacts from colonized regions, framing them within a context that emphasized the superiority of the colonizers (or science experts and knowledge holders). Even science museums like natural history museums are rooted in these colonial practices. You will still find many natural history museums still display non-European human cultural material alongside animal, plant and geology materials and other wonders of the “natural” world (Das and Lowe 2018, Davis 2024). Another example is taxonomy—a foundation of natural sciences—which involves the scientific practice of classifying organisms into hierarchical categories. The act of categorization was not, and is not, neutral; it reflects the power dynamics of the time, and positions science as the authority over all knowledge of the natural world (Gillman and Wright 2020, Smith and Figueiredo 2021). This does not mean we cannot classify organisms—it just highlights the roots of the practice and brings a level of cultural awareness to the scientific process which is sometimes lacking.
I’m grateful to be part of the field of artifact conservation, and to contribute to a profession grounded in thoughtful, evolving practice. As conservators, we’ve always worked at the intersection of art, history, culture, and science, and I value how we increasingly draw from diverse sources of knowledge to guide our work. As the professionals responsible for the preservation, restoration, and care of scientific and cultural heritage objects, conservators must navigate a delicate balance between understanding the material properties of artifacts, their scientific, cultural and historical significance, and the ethics of our treatments. This holistic approach places conservators at the forefront of interdisciplinary work, drawing on fields like chemistry, history, anthropology, and fine arts. It hasn’t always been so, as conservation as a career grew out of the chemistry field. Although the conservation field has far to go, I like to think it has been an early leader in interdisciplinary work and decolonizing museums. Many conservators, especially in Canada and in response to demands from source communities, have pushed for practices that include consultation with source communities, the inclusion of Indigenous knowledge systems in conservation approaches, and the recognition that preserving an object’s cultural integrity is just as important as preserving its physical condition. This shift reflects a broader movement in museums toward decolonization, where the authority over cultural objects is shared with the people and cultures to which they belong.
I feel I’ve drifted somewhat from your original question, and perhaps this response has been too philosophical for our simple research project; however, in so many of our conversations during the project, the topic of colonialism throughout science, academia and museums surfaced, and I have valued the space to look at your specimens through many different lenses (pun intended). I think acquiring our first SEM images was one of my favorite collaborative moments—I was so focused on getting crisp, clear images, and was thrilled by the details we could achieve with our modified technique, whereas you were so thrilled about how it changed the way you looked at your specimens, how the way you viewed the gold, luminescence and the near-perfect structures of the insects. The immediate feedback during the process allowed me to reflect instantly on how we each perceived the information, and in a way, gave the project more value for me. Limiting knowledge sources or remaining intellectually closed to other approaches can significantly hinder the research and learning process. Relying solely on one type of source—be it scientific literature, a single expert, or a narrow field of expertise—can lead to a narrow perspective, potentially overlooking important insights or alternative approaches. For example, if a researcher only uses peer-reviewed journals and ignores industry experience, they might miss practical considerations that could affect the feasibility of their findings. Conversely, focusing only on nontraditional experts without grounding the research in established science can lead to unverified or anecdotal conclusions.
This project stemmed from the treatment of insect-themed art for the control of introduced pests (insect or otherwise) in our natural history museum, and even mentioning it to colleagues and associates raised a few eyebrows. How does your artwork, in its interaction with museum conservators, patrons, and even insects, act as a subversive or transformative agent?
CS: I like the idea that Monument has “invaded” the museum. On the one hand, my specimens (which include pests and invasive species) might have harbored contaminants that could compromise the institution’s own collection. On the other hand, the piece has infected the everyday operations of the museum toward more responsive and improvisational procedures. Similarly, the conservation research process has introduced risk into my work, physically of course, but more interestingly because our SEM images introduced depth and tension into the interpretive dimensions of the work. Yet, this subversion is not dissonant with the intention of the original installation; in both cases, art and science deepen our appreciation for, and understanding of, our arthropodal neighbors. This study reminds us that art is never static in its commentary or relevance; rather in coupling with the technologies and processes of science, new critical tensions in how we experience, imagine, and/or value the so-called natural world are brought to light. In all cases, these “invasions” are generative, introducing new knowledge within and across disciplines spontaneously, while transforming all agents in the collaborative event—scientist, artist, patron, insect, machine, etc.—in some meaningful way.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the study demonstrated that freezing a representative sample of nine gilded insects from Cole Swanson’s Monument for 7 days at −20°C did not adversely affect their surface morphology or the integrity of the gilding. By comparing high-resolution macrographs and scanning electron micrographs, we observed that the gold leaf, acrylic adhesive, and chitin exhibit similar thermal behaviors. Because of these similarities, the samples exhibited no signs of dimensional stress. The lack of surface deformation, cracking, or loss of gilding after freezing suggests that freezing can be a viable option for preserving such composite objects without altering their appearance or otherwise compromising their integrity.
In addition to technical findings, this research prompts broader reflections on the intersection of art and science. Swanson's Monument, with its gilded insects, not only invites viewers to reconsider the natural world through an artistic lens, but also challenges scientific methods to adapt and engage with creative works in novel ways. The collaboration between conservators, scientists, and artists exemplifies how art can inspire scientific inquiry, while scientific rigor can, in turn, safeguard and enhance artistic expression. This collaboration illustrates how art and science can reshape our perceptions of nature and of one another, respectively, while encouraging a deeper appreciation of the complex relationships between materials, processes, and the environment.
Monument (installation detail), reclaimed insects, gold leaf, entomology pins, and gold thread, as displayed in Glimmers of the Radiant Real curated by Ruth Jones and Sam Mogelonsky at The Robert McLaughlin Gallery, Oshawa, 2018. Photo: Cole Swanson 2018.
Image of the nine insect specimens sent from Cole Swanson’s Monument to the Canadian Museum of Nature for testing. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
Cole Swanson gilds a wasp (Sphex ichneumoneus) in his home studio in Toronto. Gold leaf is delicately applied to the abdomen, which has a coating of a water-based gilding size. Photo: Cole Swanson 2024.
The before-freezing photo of a Japanese beetle (Popillia japonica). Photo: Erika Range 2024.
A carpenter bee (Xylocopa virginica) on an entomology pin, spanning the gap between two SEM stubs to avoid damaging the specimen while in the microscope. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
High-resolution images of a housefly (Musca domestica) before (left) and after (right) freezing. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
High-resolution images of a carpenter bee (Xylocopa virginica) before (left) and after (right) freezing. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
High resolution images of a horsefly (Hybomitra lasiophthalma). Detail of the head and thorax show residue of adhesive and no change in appearance after freezing. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
SEM micrograph of a wing joint of a housefly (Musca domestica) before (left) and after (right) freezing. The adhesive appears like a smooth film obscuring the features of the fly’s wing, and no changes were detected before and after. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
SEM micrograph of a Japanese beetle (Popillia japonica) elytra, along the peripheral edge on the proper left elytra. Before (left) and after (right) freezing. The stark contrast between the seemingly rough gold application and the smooth and sublime beetle features is apparent. Differences in brightness of a few features is due to charging. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
SEM micrograph of a horsefly (Hybomitra lasiophthalma) wing. Before (left) and after (right) freezing. In this area adhesive is on top and below the gold leaf, and gold flakes lie on top. Although the angle of the image is slightly different, identical features can be seen. Photo: Erika Range 2024.
Contributor Notes
Associate Editor.—Genevieve Tocci