Since graduating in art conservation in 1996, I immersed myself in the structured world of museums and institutions, where an extensive network of resources and colleagues supports art conservation and research.
Then, in 2011, I became a mother. As an immigrant far from my support network of family and friends, I had little choice but to quit my job and move to where my husband lived and had a better-paying job than me.

In 2012, I embarked on a new chapter, joining a local private company with a small team of under 10 people. This transition to private conservation practice demanded a new set of skills, including small business savvy. I had to navigate funding opportunities, such as the Greater Hudson Heritage Network (GHHN) Conservation Grants, which made possible projects that would be financially out of reach of clients. I had to learn to navigate requirements and deadlines, assist clients with applications, and encourage them to apply. Each step was a challenge. The impostor syndrome off the charts.
Throughout my career, I have recognized the value of professional associations. They are important collective bargaining vehicles but at this time became of great value as credibility marks. Attaining the American Institute for Conservation (AIC) Professional Associate and later a Fellow peer-reviewed status became a significant milestone for me. I also applied to become a CAP Assessor, not only for the potential assessment jobs it offered but as sources of future work.
I was acutely aware of the need to stay relevant in the field. Volunteering in AIC Committees played a pivotal role in maintaining and expanding my professional network. These professional involvements also proved beneficial when applying for funding to attend meetings and continued training, as they demonstrated my commitment to the profession.
One of the most significant skills I had to develop was talking to clients effectively. I remember the first time my boss handed the phone to me and told me to speak with a client about the proposed treatment. I was absolutely paralyzed. Unlike institutional settings, where funding is managed by development departments, private practice demands that conservators handle financial matters. I developed strategies to interact and discuss costs with potential clients, such as efficiently conducting simulations over the phone. These conversations would help gauge the client's willingness to invest in my services and were also an advocacy opportunity. Explaining the conservation process step-by-step became a way to explain treatment costs. Laying out each step entailed in proper conservation treatment - documentation, exam, testing, reports - abiding by a Code of Ethics and standards of practice, all added to the final cost and were nonnegotiable. The open discussion about the process created a bond of trust with clients. But it took me several years to feel comfortable interacting with people this way, especially when discussing money matters.
Navigating the private practice sector relied greatly on communal resources such as those available through AIC. The Conservators in Private Practice (CIPP) group has been a tremendous support, offering tools and a network of peers who understand our unique challenges. They provide support in aspects such as liability insurance (many conservators in the US use Huntington T. Block Insurance) or applying to RFPs.
With increasing opportunities for continued education online, I have been able to keep up with new research. I have lost count of how many International Academic Projects online workshops I have attended, and the possibility of watching conferences online has saved me a lot of money.
Isolation is a harsh reality of working independently. The Private Project: An Art Conservation Podcast, created by Kelsey Marino, has an excellent series of interviews with private conservators that aims to inform on how to start and navigate the private practice sector while discussing current issues within the field.
I found private practice to be the hardest kind of conservation work. Most clients want to keep costs as low as possible, and one ends up doing a lot of unpaid work on one’s own time. We are constantly meeting our own skills and knowledge limits and having to surpass them. I used up my goodwill quota on many colleagues, mentors, and friends with phone calls about treatment proposals. I scoured the AIC wiki for treatment options, I watched AIC videos as a form of continued training (and am so grateful for all they put out as free resources!)
I never aspired to private practice for many reasons that include an inability to comprehend business matters, but greatly, to my shame, due a personal bias towards private practice. I had to work through deep personal bias during this time, and I am still processing it. My personal bias was that the "best" conservators end up in positions in world-renowned museums and institutions. When I chose to live where I do, in a city with no positions in my specialty, because that was what my family required, I gave up pursuing my dream job. And it still nags at me. What would it have been like for each position I didn't apply for? Would I even have gotten it? (Now there’s a nagging thought…) I should accept that I am just as good as I am. And I made the choices I thought were right each step of the way.
There is one more thing. The pressure. Private conservators have to deal with treatment failures in a particular way. An error in their case may imply substantial financial losses. For me, dealing with my mistakes, not being fast enough, chasing after billable hours, and holding myself to impossible standards, all had a devastating effect on my mental health. Last year, I made the significant decision to leave the group practice and become an independent conservator, focusing primarily on non-bench projects (teaching, surveys, etc). This step back was a necessary one, but it was also a step forward in my personal growth and learning. Despite the challenges, I can confidently say that I have learned more in the last 10 years in private than in the previous 16 years of working in institutions or doing research.
My decade in private practice was a period of growth and adaptation. The skills I acquired, and the connections I made have enriched my life in ways I could not have anticipated. I worked with exceptional colleagues in a high-demand environment that was incredibly supportive and like the most comically dysfunctional family I have ever been part of. I had colleagues always there to help, even if it meant slowing their hour tally down. A client shed tears of joy when picking up her mom's photograph after treatment. I heard stories of families cobbling together money for a sealed package. I received thank-you gifts, including an envelope with a 50-dollar bill tip (I wanted to return it, but a colleague persuaded me we could use it for a new office coffee machine) and a box of smoked salmon! I dealt with rude people on the phone and learned to stand my ground. I had to maintain a consistent level of care approaching each object - a toy paper bear or an Ansel Adams print - although you know I was much more anxious about treating the Adams!
I did all this with a clean lab coat, washed, dry hands, and a humble mindset. I miss my colleagues but not the stress of it. And I'm very excited about this new chapter.
PS: I just saw this announcement and promptly registered:
The Great Lakes OSHA Education Center is offering the following live, virtual course on workplace stress and mental health:
1. Essentials of Workplace Stress and Mental Health: 06/03/2024 at 8am-11:30am EST.
Pre-registration required. Register here:www.greatlakesosha.org/event-registration/?ee=9132
2. Essentials of Workplace Stress and Mental Health: 06/21/2024 at 8am-11:30am EST.
Pre-registration required. Register here:www.greatlakesosha.org/event-registration/?ee=9133