The front rooms of The Limited Edition Art and Antiques shop are an homage to things that have lasted through the ages. There is an eclectic mix of Victorian and Edwardian antiques, clusters of delicate Lladro figurines, vintage toys and original pieces painted by co-owner Betsy Proctor in an American Folk Art style.

At the back of the shop, however, there is a gallery of work that was never meant to last. Hanging on the high walls of a more than 1,500-square-foot space are dozens of vintage posters.

"These posters were never meant to be long-lasting," Harry Proctor said, gesturing at the collection adorning the walls.

The paper quality and the lack of care with which posters were often handled, shorten their lives. The art of poster making, itself, is not what it once was.

One of the walls of the gallery features a collection of hauntingly evocative posters from World War I and World War II; another displays one from 2001: A Space Odyssey and a variety of other classic films; yet another has a selection of quirky circus posters.

The Proctors specialize in preserving such images. They remove the acid in the paper, repair the tears, flatten out the folds, and touch up lines and blemishes.

The fixes they make are not permanent because that would destroy the value as an original work, so glues and paints can all be removed if need be.

Posters, such as a vibrantly colored Pan American "Havana" advertisement from the 1950s, present some challenges.

"It came to us in an envelope with about 50 pieces," Harry said. "We had to assemble it, de-acidify it, replace the paper that was missing and then fill in the design. It was in pretty sorry shape."

But the finished product is now a relic of a fleeting era in American history.

"Pan American didn't fly to Havana very long before we couldn't go there at all anymore," Betsy said. "For that reason, a poster like this in good shape might get more than $5,000. Because of the shape of this one, however, it might sell for half of that."

The linen backing takes about a week for one poster, Harry said. The process takes up more room than is available in the shop's gallery, so the couple works from another space off-site.

"We have to stretch the canvas first and put on the acid free paper, wait a couple days for it to dry, then mount the poster on it and stretch the canvas and the paper together," he said. "Any retouching or restoration that has to be done happens at the end of all of that."

Betsy, who is a longtime painter and artisan, often does the retouching at the shop.

About a year before Harry retired from his work as a geologist in the oil and gas industry, his son found a poster he wanted to use as the start of a collection.

"He paid 50 bucks for the poster and $600 to have it linen backed," Harry said. "I thought to myself, 'Wow, if you're going to start collecting posters, you're going to have to figure out how to do this.'"

Since then, the couple of more than 35 years taught themselves the process. They started reading about various techniques and learned through trial and error. The techniques are similar to other activities they already do, including refinishing and painting antique furniture as well as re-canvassing, cleaning and retouching oil paintings. They also have shared an interest in collecting old engravings.

Still, the process is a challenging one.

"I destroyed a lot of posters early on," Harry said. "Even now I'm still learning because every poster is on a different kind of paper, and every paper behaves differently."

Posters and process

The linen backing process was originally developed for cartographers to carry maps into the field, co-owner Harry Proctor said.

"But it wasn't called linen backing at that time," he said, "It was just called 'making a map.'"

When poster collecting began to grow in popularity in the 1960s—movie posters in particular—the linen-backing system was developed.

The Limited Edition

5717 Second St.

Katy (281) 391-1993

www.limitededitionartandantiques.com