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A working diary on cleaning techniques, lime mortars, and the patience of preserving an inherited surface. With photographs and one regret.
A working diary on cleaning techniques, lime mortars, and the patience of preserving an inherited surface. With photographs and one regret.
The façade in question is mid-nineteenth-century, locally quarried, and carries the marks of three earlier interventions — one of them well-meaning, two of them regrettable. We took a position on the building eighteen months ago with the understanding that the surface itself would be the most expensive line item in the works programme, and that the slowest part of the work would arrive after the scaffold went up.
We trialled four cleaning methods on a single elevation before settling on a combination of misting and poulticing for the soiled areas, with hand work on the carved details. Anyone who has worked on listed fabric will recognise the iteration — the protocol that looks correct on a sample panel rarely survives the first ten square metres.
A short list of decisions that mattered:
The regret, for the record, is that we replaced one of the cornice stones rather than consolidating it. The replacement is honest, the replacement is dated, and the replacement matches the surrounding stone within the agreed tolerance. It is still a replacement we would not make again. The lesson we carry forward is that the threshold for intervention should sit one degree higher than the structural argument would justify in isolation.
We will publish the photographic record once the scaffold comes down.