Behind the scene at the museums

WITH a steady, patient hand, conservationist Paul McAuley lifts one of dozens of shattered porcelain pieces which once made up a priceless Ming vase and fixes it into the three-dimensional jigsaw in front of him.

The 17th century green and red floral-patterned antique, which is slowly re-emerging thanks to Paul's painstaking work, stood for around 100 years on a mantelpiece at Lauriston Castle library. That was until an owl tumbled down the library chimney and, in its frenzied panic at finding itself trapped inside the building, flapped into the delicate vase, causing it to shatter on to the floor.

"I have specialised in ceramic repair but this is still a difficult one," sighs Paul as he studies the 60 or so pieces laid out in front of him.

Paul works at the Museums Collections Centre – a treasure trove of more than 20,000 historical items that relate to Edinburgh's rich heritage and fascinating past. As a member of a three-strong team, Paul keeps careful watch on the artefacts that are preserved within special containers and stored on dust-free metal shelves in temperature -controlled rooms.

There they remain until the curators of Edinburgh City Council's museums – including the Writers' Museum, the People's Story and the Museum of Edinburgh – dream up new exhibitions and approach the centre for any pertinent items in storage.

"Every object has a history or story attached to it," enthuses Paul. "The City of Edinburgh has received all these things for its museums so the history of the city and its people is preserved."

Today, Paul is in the centre's conservation workshop where a bold sign on the door yells "Restricted Area – Authorised Personnel Only". Around him are bottles of adhesives, glass chemical containers and little drawers that contain items like curtain fringes, needle threaders, microscope bulbs and scalpel blades – the bits and bobs needed to preserve things when they become worn or, in the case of the Ming vase, when they require extensive repair.

Paul carefully lifts another piece of ceramic and secures it firmly in place.

When the vase is complete, he will use a cocktail stick to delicately drop a liquid adhesive between the cracks.

Lauriston Castle is in the trust of Edinburgh City Council, which is why the vase has come to Paul's attention. Remarkably, this is the third time Paul has put the valuable antique back together – previous attempts were painstakingly undone when they proved to be far from perfect.

"When I've finished there's always been a couple of steps where the joins have not been flush because the pieces have slipped slightly," he explains.

"This is one of the fundamental things about conservation repair – whatever processes we use need to be reversible."

The task in hand would certainly try the patience of most people but, having been a conservation officer with the council for more than a decade, Paul is used to keeping his head. The 51-year-old, of Newhaven, is enthusiastic about his job and he describes conservation as a "marriage of art, science and history".

When the centre enjoys a rare public open day tomorrow, Paul is likely to show visitors another project that awaits attention – a bizarre papier-mâché rabbit's head that stares out, unblinking, from the corner of the room. Although the origins of the head are a mystery, it was thought to have once been part of a party costume.

When it was donated to the Museum of Childhood, the rabbit's left ear was damaged and it is up to Paul to find a way of restoring it so it can go on display.

When he's not in the workshop, Paul works on a project that will eventually see 12 city monuments restored to their former glory.

In the last year, the council, together with Edinburgh World Heritage, has completed work on the Melville Monument at St Andrew Square, the Duke of Buccleuch statue at Parliament Square, the Black Watch war memorial on the Mound and the Bow Well in the Grassmarket.

In the next year, Paul and the team will work on the National, Nelson and Burns monuments in the city.

It is the monuments and wartime collections that particularly capture Paul's imagination and he points out an antiquated copy of a map which depicts a panoramic view of Edinburgh and Leith from 1560 – a time when they were under siege from the English and Dutch navies. In this area of the centre there are also card files containing the names of thousands of Edinburgh soldiers who lost their lives in the First World War.

Pulling on a pair of white gloves, Paul also delicately turns the pages of a ledger that dates back to 1794 where local men signed their names, pledging to volunteer for the Peninsula Wars.

"This is them literally signing up," whispers Paul. "I think these are really poignant things as they are items specifically attached to the city that shows the tragedy of war."

Next, Paul opens a cupboard that houses a selection of items belonging to the Edinburgh-born First World War commander General Douglas Haig.

Earl Haig was a controversial figure due to the huge casualties that his military strategy produced but the centre boasts stacks of Freedom of the City certificates from throughout the world, honouring him as a war hero.

As well as his horse's saddle, his sword and photographs that have all been donated to the city by his family, the centre is also the guardian of Earl Haig's death mask. This, however, is an artefact that Paul says remains under wraps at all times and so will not be on display at the forthcoming open day.

"It's not something we pull out to show to people as the family would be unhappy if it appeared in this kind of context," he explains.

Away from the misery of war, there are also objects that depict more innocent times – shelves of porcelain dolls, of miniature houses and of brightly coloured pedal cars from the 1950s and 60s.

"While not everyone is interested in Ming vases," says Paul standing in the children's section, "everyone has been a child so there's something here for everyone, no matter what generation they are from."

In another corner is a range of beauty treatment machines – hairdryers and steam devices to set perms – that date from the 1930s and have all come from Edinburgh salons.

Alongside them is an electrolysis machine for hair removal that, with its knobs, buttons and voltage gauge, looks more like an instrument of torture.

"They do look very scary but women have always suffered for their beauty," Paul shrugs.

Here, visitors will also find more modern items – the moulds of the bronze Leith Walk pigeons that found infamy when they were repeatedly stolen. Indeed, one of the original birds rests, balanced without feet, waiting to be restored to its outdoor home when the tram works are finally over.

"We hope people will come along to get an idea of what goes on behind the scenes at the council's museums," says Paul. "We are trying to preserve the heritage of the city for the people of the city."