Gilding and Decorative Surfaces: Conservation Experience at Brighton Pavilion

Image of all the gilded objects taken from the music room in various stages of treatment and condition ready to be assessed.

Seeking more experience in the conservation of easel paintings, I recently undertook a three-week placement with the conservation team at Brighton Pavilion. My training so far has been rooted in the conservation of flat painted surfaces—canvas, panel, and the associated materials of oil painting. This placement marked the first time I had worked intensively with gilded decorative objects, and the shift in scale, materiality, and context proved both challenging and rewarding.

The objects in question had been removed from the Music Room—one of the most opulent interiors in the Pavilion and a testament to the extravagant taste of George IV. Designed in the early 19th century as part of the building’s Indo-Chinese decorative scheme, the Music Room is characterised by its ornate surfaces, layered materials, and extensive use of gilded ornamentation. Working with objects from such a space was not only technically demanding but also historically significant; these were not merely gilded frames or embellishments, but integral elements of an immersive decorative environment.

Image of the music room inside the Brighton Pavilion.

Although I had some familiarity with the visual language of gilded surfaces from my painting background and occasional frame analysis, this was my first direct engagement with the conservation of both oil and water gilding. These techniques, require distinct handling strategies due to their differing composition and surface behaviour. My time at the Pavilion introduced me to both systems in situ, as well as the underlying materials they were applied to—primarily wood and plaster, sometimes layered or modified through historical repairs.

Image of the doorways in the music room showing the oranments in place (left) and after removal (right)

The treatment process itself was highly object-specific. Each surface had to be read carefully: assessing its structural stability, the condition of the leaf, the nature of any previous interventions, and the object’s place within the larger decorative scheme. Cleaning and stabilisation procedures were determined through small-scale tests and constant adjustment. Even with minimal intervention approaches, the sheer sensitivity of the surfaces required considerable precision.

Two objects stood out for the level of care and judgement they demanded. Object ‘A’ was an original wooden element, water-gilded, and among the most fragile surfaces I’ve encountered to date. The gold leaf, delicately bonded to a gesso ground and bole layer beneath, was extremely responsive to moisture and abrasion. Any action, however minor, needed to be precisely controlled. Even the gentlest cleaning methods had to be approached with caution, and the process underscored the importance of restraint in conservation, particularly when working with water-gilded finishes.

Image of ‘A’, a gilded wooden decorative ornament from the music room, before (left) and after (right) treatment.

Objects ‘C1’ and ‘C2’, by contrast, were later plaster additions and behaved entirely differently despite occupying the same room and appearing visually consistent from a distance. The surface incorporated two different types of gold leaf, possibly applied during separate campaigns of redecoration or repair. This variation became evident during testing: one area absorbed moisture differently, another became tacky under the same conditions. The composite nature of the object challenged any assumption that treatment could be uniform, and instead required a carefully localised approach, both materially and ethically. It was a timely reminder that no two objects, even when created for the same interior, can be treated identically.

Image of ‘C2’, a gilded plaster decorative ornament from the music room, before (top) and after (bottom) treatment.

These two examples, among others, provided an invaluable opportunity to refine my observational and decision-making skills. Beyond the technical learning, I began to appreciate how objects that appear materially similar often carry layered histories, and how surface behaviour can reflect complex interactions between original craftsmanship, environmental exposure, and historical restoration.

The experience also revealed how transferable some of these skills will be as I return to the field of easel painting conservation. Decorative frames, in particular, frequently incorporate gilded surfaces, often oil or water gilded over both wooden and composite substrates. The practical experience I gained at the Pavilion, reading the signs of deterioration, handling friable surfaces, and working with highly reactive leaf, will directly inform future treatments I carry out on frames accompanying paintings.

Image of ‘the process of regilding ‘C1’

More broadly, this placement reinforced the value of hands-on experience and learning through direct engagement with objects. Working alongside conservators actively treating historically significant materials allowed me to see how knowledge is applied flexibly, and how treatment decisions are continuously negotiated through testing, dialogue, and close looking. These are lessons that cannot be fully absorbed through reading or discussion alone.

The placement also highlighted how conservation is rarely a static or prescriptive process. Instead, it requires sensitivity to context—material, historical, and institutional. The fact that the Music Room’s decorative scheme includes both original and later-added components, sometimes indistinguishable at first glance, made clear how important it is to approach each object on its own terms. Even within a single room, conservation approaches must remain dynamic and object-led.

In stepping beyond the boundaries of easel painting and into the world of historic interiors, I have expanded not only my technical toolkit but also my understanding of conservation as a responsive and interdisciplinary practice. The gilded surfaces of Brighton Pavilion, with their splendour and fragility, offered a compelling site of learning, one that will continue to inform my thinking as I move forward in the field.

Thank you to the conservation team who took me under their wing and shared all their knowledge with me, this expirience was truly valuable.