Why (Ancient) Art History feels different (UNEDITED)

 The starkest stylistic differentiation of the art history courses that I took was the clear linearity throughout each of them. Many history courses are built around wide-ranging scopes. Stage 1 courses generally had the largest. One, a Pacific history course “focussed” on the last 1,000 years of the Pacific region, but began with a quick overview of prehistoric developments, such as Sunda and Sahul. Another, even more general course, consisted of a rapid cruise through numerous touchstones of the last 500 years from around the globe, starting  with European arrival in the Americas through a number of revolutions and wars and other generally unconnected happenings. Stage 2 and 3 courses generally had a little more restraint, with some courses focussing on events in one country (such as Japan or Ireland) with a period of less than 300 years. For both, the course was structured by political developments (the Tokugawa shogunate and the ongoing relationship with England) during this period, although neither was confined to it, especially in the case of the course on Japan. Another course was even more constrained, focussing in on post-Mao China, while a course on the French Revolution was the most concentrated in terms of time period. Medieval history courses, by comparison, tended to be more wide-ranging. One looked at monotheism and conflict during medieval times, which meant three distinct religions and how they met (in more violent cases) over vast stretches of both time and land. Another looked at medieval worldviews in Western Europe more broadly, which similarly used a broad chronological scope.

 

These courses, for the purposes of comparison to the ancient art history courses I found within the Classics department, come in two different groups. The first, generally focussed on a smaller region (in these cases, a single country – of varying size) were structured around political narratives, whether that was more ongoing developments or the impact of major events. Ancient history courses that I took had been developed in similar fashion. While not necessarily confined to tight time periods or small borders, they were noticeably less ranging than the themed courses (both of which happened to be focussed on medieval times). These could bring together much more scattered events and ideas, loosely connected by the themes of the course. Interestingly, the art history courses felt a lot more like the latter while being structured much more like the former. I won’t discuss how courses on ancient literature fit into this comparison, because they didn’t quite function the same way; they were more disparate and scattershot, a little like the themed courses but without themes. At a glance, the sweeping stretch of (vivid!) vases, architecture and statues (among other artefacts) analysed in these classics courses is merely grouped by theme, jumping from era to era and art form to art form. But during these courses it is undeniable that they are structured around linear narratives of artistic developments (as opposed to political changes); ideals are emphasized and re-emphasized, techniques are created and improved, differences are clearly pointed out. The history of artistic culture was much more clearly laid out than that of political culture in many of the history courses.

 

It’s a bitter sort of irony that the clarity produced by such linearity obscures so much of my professed ideals. Where I would normally be explicit in the need for properly communicating the development of one’s ideas about a subject in history into a well-structured historical argument, that’s an approach that I would stress far more in individual pieces than courses. Courses are an opportunity for synthesis, to branch out, to explore the totality of (a) historical field(s). Art history courses, while more unified, often felt more like a single book: here is the development of Greek vase painting, here is the development of Egyptian temple-building. Furthermore, they offered relatively little outside of the subject at hand. There was time for brief discussions of myths that were being depicted, the practical function of buildings, or contemporary issues such as the Sea Peoples or changing pharaohs. Overall, though, this was far less than in history courses. Whether this is more a result of the focus of the lectures/course or the viability of branching out from politics compared to art and culture is hard to say. In discussing life during the Edo Period, for example, the ascension of the Tokugawa to the positions of shogun could be linked to developments in regional politics, religious life, social life and urban shifts. While art and archaeology could be used for similar forays, this was not done so often, and when it was it lacked the linear narratives that made the art history aspects of these courses so clear. Although more linear overall, they gave a far more disparate, scattered and useless impression of the societies discussed.

 

There’s one final point that I have to make here: the focus on minutiae. In the grand scheme of historical happenings, artistic moments and trends like the career of Exekias or the incorporation of Contrapposto poses might be seen as nothing. They aren’t really that important to anyone interested in studying ancient societies, they don’t say too much of interest outside of the world of art. Far more important are things like subject matter (the interest in myth, in gods, in history), social function (such as political organisation, events ranging from symposia to athletics, worship or burial) and materials used (what resources were available, what was valued – and by whom) and other such topics that can be used to gain a fuller picture of societies. But there’s always been something about the minutiae that’s kept knocking at my brain, the idea that even the trivial is a necessary part of the whole, the idea that if it was then it should be known today. In any other context, I’d probably appreciate a focus on so much that seems like nothings. There is a part of me that appreciates how art history operates, and the space it provides for all the little things from all the little artefacts. It might be a shame that these courses always felt more like art courses than history courses, but it might be more of a shame that I couldn’t appreciate what they did do more.