
Museums across the country are working to get flame candles and lamps out of their historic buildings.
For obvious reasons! Near-miss stories abound--"Do you remember the year Sandy almost bumped over a candle and lit the garland on fire? Whew! We really dodged a bullet on that one!" In 2005, this nightmare came true for the Lewis and Clark National Park when a reproduction building was burned down, possibly by a hearth fire that got out of control. Thankfully, no historic structures were damaged, but the loss of resources was still painful.

Even when candles or hearth fires do not light anything aflame, the risk of damage from wax drips or smoke (think of the cumulative damage to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel) or even scorch marks from a flame placed too close to an artifact is very real.

The benefits range beyond peace of mind and safety of the artifacts; without the need for supervision (someone always had to stand beside a lit candle in New York historic sites to ensure that it was safe), we can plug them in for other holidays or even just cloudy ones. The candles are so convincing that once when I turned on the dining room table lights (the best of the bunch), a coworker came to find me in a hurry to see why we had candles burning in the house.

Not to mention the possibility of attracting mice! Clermont had already been avoiding the use of nuts, which, even when shellacked and hot glued to decorative items, proved too inviting for the resident rodents. The little vandals attacked anything edible that was not stored in our refridgerator in the basement.
The most common damage from plants came from live spruce, boxwood, and other evergreens that shed bits of organic matter everywhere as they died slowly inside the building. These acidic bits get into the cracks between the floorboards or the joints in furniture and, over time, do cumulative damage to once-glossy finishes. It was more than just enough to break a curator's heart; it was enough to put us into action.

What does that mean for our
dedicated decorators? It was hard to give up the romance of live greens. A sizeable portion of the decorating budget this year went to an investment in high-quality faux greenery. Pine and spruce garland, boxwood, and ivy, along with a good dose of new faux fruit while we were at it, have "spruced" the place up for Christmas. We even found good quality faux poinsettias (a major fabric store chain carries them).

But the "fringe" benefits of the faux greens soon made themselves aparent. First, our pine-allergic administrative assitant (who is a major decorator every year) thanked us for rescueing her. But most importantly, the greens are not in danger of dying off. In the past, the end of the season was punctuated by a sound like rain whenever anyone brushed against the greens as cascades of acidic pine needs rattled to the floor. Green garland was soon replaced by bare twigs, and woe to he who hung up the greens too early! Christmas weekend could be brown and twiggy if we miscalculated.
The truth is that we love the flicker of a real candle flame and the smell of pine and spruce as much as anybody, but as a museum, our concerns always have to be ballanced with protection of the artifacts. Treating potentially-fragile 18th century artifacts with kid gloves may seem obvious, but it is equally important for us to be gentle with our twentieth century artifacts. We are charged with maintaining them for the public in perpetuity, and even the smallest damage can add up over that length of time. In the interest of the artifacts, we have to accept a little faux in our "Ho ho ho."