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What happens when a love for chemistry meets a passion for art history? For ľ¹Ï¸£ÀûÓ°ÊÓ College Utrecht alumnus '18, the result is a career that combines cutting-edge science with the timeless beauty of 17th-century masterpieces. Now Technical Art Historian and Research Associate Heritage Science within the scientific team at the , Paul uses advanced imaging techniques to explore the materials, methods, and mysteries behind historic works of art.

But his journey started at UCU, where an experimental 'Chemistry and Art' lab course opened Paul’s eyes to the possibilities of Technical Art History. From groundbreaking research at the Rijksmuseum to his current PhD on the blue pigment smalt, Paul’s work reveals how science can deepen our understanding of cultural heritage. In this profile, he shares his experiences of blending disciplines, breaking boundaries, and bringing hidden layers of art to light.

Your career blends chemistry and art history seamlessly. What sparked your interest in this intersection, and how did UCU play a role in shaping your path?

To be honest, there is not a chance I would be doing the interdisciplinary work I’m doing now without UCU. Ever since I was young, I had a profound interest in both the visual arts and chemistry. The former was slowly instilled by my father – a sculptor and art historian who would drag me to churches and museums all over Europe – the latter was brought about by a chemical intuition that I first noticed in high school.

However, it wasn’t until the lab course ‘Chemistry and Art’ was piloted at the end of my second year that I became aware that there was any overlap between the two. Imagine the shock when we were taken to the labs of the , and a new world opened before my eyes: approaching artworks and objects through chemical analysis! UCU’s support and focus on interdisciplinarity afterward, allowing me to explore this new passion in essays and my thesis, was invaluable in shaping my path.

Could you share some insights into your work at the Fitzwilliam Museum, particularly your role in scientific imaging and projects like ?

Since November, I’ve been the new permanent researcher responsible for scientific imaging at the , which so far has taken me from examining 3,000-year-old sarcophagi and 18th-century ceramics to my specialisation: 17th-century Dutch painting.

I was very lucky to start in the middle of the preparation for , a special display of four monumental still lifes by Jan Davidsz. de Heem, one of the most renowned 17th-century Dutch still-life painters (you might recognize his vibrant flower arrangements from tote bags in just about every tourist shop in Amsterdam!). When he moved to Antwerp from the Northern Netherlands in the late 1630s, he started painting these enormous canvases on a scale he had never done before. The museum had the opportunity to bring four of these incredibly rare works together, for the first time ever. 

We’ve successfully scanned two of the paintings, and one will remain for further study after the exhibition. What excites me most is that the display incorporates our technical research, explaining the scientific imaging techniques and showcasing preliminary findings. Visitors can engage with the science behind the art, which is atypical—most museums conduct this research behind the scenes, and integrating it into exhibitions is only slowly emerging.

If you’re in London or Cambridge before April 14th, don’t miss the chance to see these extraordinary works and learn about the research happening here!

Your PhD research on the blue pigment smalt sounds fascinating. What drives your interest in this topic, and what impact do you hope your research will have?

Much like the discovery of Technical Art History, my interest in smalt is tied to UCU in the same way. For my thesis, I reached out to the lecturers from the Chemistry and Art lab course for topic ideas, and Thijs Hagendijk suggested exploring recipes from a handwritten source in Alkmaar’s municipal archive. I chose a recipe for smalt somewhat randomly from a shortlist we made, and the reconstruction results turned out to be unexpectedly exciting—and they’ve shaped my career ever since.

Later, during my Master’s in Technical Art History at the ľ¹Ï¸£ÀûÓ°ÊÓ of Amsterdam, I connected with Professor Erma Hermens, who had been researching smalt for years. Our collaboration has taken us from Rembrandt’s Night Watch to exploring smalt’s origins in the glass and enamel industries.

The main issue with smalt is its tendency to degrade in oil paint, turning from a vibrant blue to a murky brown. This explains why there’s so little blue left in paintings like Rembrandt’s. While it’s clear that some brown areas, like Mary’s drapery, were originally blue, the picture is less certain when smalt is mixed with other pigments. Was it meant to contribute blue, or was it used for another purpose?

My research aims to answer these questions by analyzing paintings, studying historical recipes, and reconstructing fresh smalt paints to understand its original properties – all in the hope to come a bit closer to the original intent of an artist at work.

Looking back on your work at the Rijksmuseum and now in Cambridge, what have been some of the most exciting challenges or breakthroughs in combining science with art history?

One of the most exciting and challenging aspects is navigating the true interdisciplinary nature of the work. Teams often include more traditional scientists and art historians who approach research with very different terminologies, priorities and ways of communicating results. As a technical art historian, with a background in both, I hope to be able to help to bridge those gaps, even if it isn’t always easy. In this sense, however, UCU was an excellent preparation – its interdisciplinary environment taught me the value of bringing together diverse perspectives to solve complex problems.

I’m particularly passionate about ensuring that the discoveries we make don’t remain confined to the academic bubble.

I’m particularly passionate about ensuring that the discoveries we make don’t remain confined to the academic bubble. Whether it’s sharing findings with colleagues in other disciplines or presenting them to a broader, interested audience, communicating science in accessible and engaging ways is a key part of the job to me.

One standout project was the , which I contributed to during my Master’s thesis. Being part of the scientific team for such a landmark event was incredible. I had the chance to collaborate with scientists and curators I had long admired, engage in meaningful discussions, and contribute to research that’s still unfolding and leading to new publications.