Excerpt from my upcoming article on nautical iconography methods and theory:
WALKER VADILLO, V. & WALKER VADILLO, M.A., (2022) Frozen in Time: iconography, visual analysis, and the study of nautical activities in maritime archaeology, in Walker Vadillo, V. Mataix Ferrandiz, E. & Holmqvist-Sippilä, E. (eds) Down by the Water: interdisciplinary approaches to the study of water transit points in past maritime societies. Oxford: BAR
The words “down by the water” conjure a vision of people gathered on the banks of a river, or the sandy shores of a coastal town, some sprawling on land, others on board vessels. We think about women or men, perhaps surrounded by children, sitting by the sea, fixing the nets that will be used in the next fishing expedition; we think about fishermen returning home from the catch. We think of religious communities gathered by the water to cleanse or purify their souls. We think of summer nights and bonfires celebrating midsummer’s Eve. Whatever we may be thinking about, it involves people in the midst of an action, the water and boats being but the stage where some of these activities take place. Yet these actions are just moments in time, many of which leave very little trace of evidence behind. Think about the Royal Barge Parade of Thailand celebrated in 2019 to complete King Maha Vajiralongkorn’s ascension to the throne, or the annual fluvial procession of the Lady of Peñafrancia in Naga (Philippines), or the floating markets of Southeast Asia. None of these leave tangible remains in the location where they take place, the water, and yet they are important aspects of culture. Current archaeological methods are clearly designed for the terrestrial environment, where we expect remains of human activities to leave some traces in the soil that can be observed, analysed, and interpreted. We have become very good at this, but the terrestrial bias renders past nautical activities similar to the Royal Barge Parade of Thailand or the Lady of Peñafrancia procession in the Philippines somewhat invisible. How then, can we “see” activities that take place down by the water?
Maritime archaeology is a discipline that places its attention on our watery environments, having boats and other associated remains at the forefront of our research interests. The theoretical underpinnings of this field have evolved quite rapidly to provide some answers to the problem of understanding the way humans behave in waterscapes. Yet maritime archaeologists are also limited to archaeological material that is far removed from human action, making it hard to fully understand the activities that took place in these spaces. In this context, nautical iconography presents a strange privilege that allows us to peek into a moment frozen in time. A figure in the midst of a gesture, a mouth with a word left mid-sentence, these representations give us a rare glimpse of the actions that took place on the shores or aboard vessels, but just like de Garis Davies pointed out almost a century ago: “if the study of written documents and that of excavated objects have their special difficulties and limitations, the interpretation of pictured records, forming a third division of historical research, also offers scope for philological and archaeological knowledge, as well as wide experience and some psychological sense. We may ask then what measure of truth can be reached in this third field [i.e. pictured records]” (De Garis Davies, 1930: 29). For all the benefits that maritime archaeologists can exact from pictorial representations, this type of data is surrounded by controversy (see discussion below). In this chapter, we will discuss the state of the art on the use of nautical iconography in the study of maritime communities of the past, and set forth a methodology for the use of this type of material that is rooted in Art History theories. This approach is relevant in as much as it recognizes the importance of breaking disciplinary boundaries when dealing with imagery found in archaeological contexts. We will then provide an example of what can be achieved if we approach the study of nautical iconography in a systematic and critical way using a nautical scene depicted in the temple of Bayon dated to the height of the Khmer Empire of Angkor in Cambodia (ninth to fifteenth centuries CE).
- Interpretive narratives through iconological analysis
Nautical iconography has been widely used in maritime archaeology, but its use has proven to be highly controversial (see for example Farrell 1979: 227; Basch 1987: 38-39; Wachsmann 1998: 3-5; McGrail 2004: 2-3; Flatman 2004; 2007: 22; Rey 2009: 9-14; Polzer 2011: 349-378; Wachsmann 2019). Many discussions centre around the lack of technological accuracy of the images, the subjective interpretation of the researcher, and the lack of comparative material among others (see for example Basch 1976; Wedde 2000; Flatman 2007). John Illsley went so far as to say that “the limited credibility of such sources is increasingly thrown into sharp relief by the hard edge objectivity of the naval architects, ship re-constructors, and nautical archaeologists” (Illsley 1987: 262). Illsley’s comments are symptomatic of a common ailment in nautical iconographical analysis: the assumption that the image is a blueprint of past nautical technologies (Basch 1976: 231). Illsley’s comments overlook the fact that nautical iconography was not necessarily conceived as a graphic tool for shipwrights; in fact, his response reflects how in the early stages of maritime archaeology iconography was more often than not used solely for the study of nautical technology, and the focus of the discipline was mostly concerned with ships as humanity’s most complex technological advancement in pre-industrial societies (Muckelroy 1978: 3). This approach superseded other aspects of maritime culture, including social factors that now we know deeply affect hull design and shipbuilding (see for example Adams 2001: Shearn 2020; Walker Vadillo 2020). It was only in 1992 when the discipline experienced a paradigm change with the publication of Westerdahl’s Maritime Cultural Landscape, a theoretical framework that refined the concept of maritime archaeology by extending the focus to all aspects of maritime cultures and recognizing the importance of tapping into different sources of data beyond archaeology (Westerdahl 1992). Iconography is one of the many types of sources that maritime researchers can tap into, but it is unique in as much as it can offer an insight into a culture’s idea of what boats should look like and, where available, even provides the social context of usage. Understanding how to interpret the data can prove decisive for the discipline; finding a way to reduce speculation and increase the robustness of the interpretive process is therefore paramount.
Although the data provided by nautical representations could be perceived as being straightforward, its interpretation is more often than not marred with speculation brought about by inappropriate methodology (Wedde 1996:121). The problem is not really the source but the way in which the analysis of the source has been conducted so far. Any interpretation of pictorial evidence incurs speculation brought about by the inevitable analogy, but this is true of any interpretation of archaeological material (Johnson 2010: 50). However, while methods and theories have been developed in archaeology to reduce speculation and provide plausible interpretations of the material, the field of nautical iconography has struggled to deliver a consistent methodology and accompanying methods that help support theories based on visual imagery.
Basch noted already in 1976 that boat representations should not be taken at face value because they could contain inaccuracies brought about by the lack of nautical knowledge of the creator (for a detailed study of this type of issues in Japanese art see Yamafune 2014, for a discussion on artist mistakes see Humphreys 1978; Tilley and Fenwick 1980; Friel 2011). We could add to Basch’s criticism that artists were likely limited by other issues, such as the nature and size of the material in which the iconography is depicted, or the motivation behind the selection of which features are depicted. For example, the image may force the attention of the audience on a technological innovation, or a feature that identifies the culture to which the boat belongs to while obscuring other features.
Basch proposed to examine each document critically and individually, and interpret their meaning taking into account the cultural context that it belonged to, and concluded that there is no golden rule that governs the interpretations of ancient documents (1976: 231-233). This was carried on by later authors such as Wedde, who proposed a rigorous analytical process in the interpretation of iconographic material that revolved around four main sections: 1) description of the methods used, 2) individual analysis of the images, 3) understanding the processes of creation of the iconography, and 4) the interpretation of the resulting typology (Wedde 2000: 16). The first section seems to rest on Basch’s idea that there is no way of homogenising the system, and implies that each author should define the methods ad hoc instead of seeking a methodology that can be replicated for any kind of nautical imagery. In section two, he rightly specifies that distorting factors like media, size, and technique should be taken into account (Wedde 1996: 124), but then he advocates an individual analysis of the images to classify them into clusters (Wedde 2000: 14). We would instead propose to conduct an internal analysis for each type of representation that may provide data that allows for the characterization of nautical representations in different media, size, and technique.
Wedde notes that the cultural baggage of the researcher needs to be reduced and that any interpretation of the images has to be based on their cultural context (2000: 25). Responding to the specific characteristics of Medieval Europe, where textual and iconographic sources abound, Flatman proposed an interpretive process that compared iconographic data with archaeological material (2007: 1-6). According to Flatman, the iconographic data has to be supported by at least another source of data, like for example from ethnography or archaeology (Ibid.: 5), something that was already postulated by other authors (Farrell 1979; McGrail 2001: 2). A different approach was taken by Rey da Silva (2009), who placed the emphasis on the role of boats as symbols following Kobylinski’s work on boat symbolism (1995). Rey da Silva’s work stems from the presumption that boats have a symbolic value without discussing the process of interpretation of the iconography that has led to this supposition. Some concessions are made to the study of boat representations within the landscape (Rey da Silva 2009: 7), but the value of the boat as a symbol takes precedence over alternative interpretations and it is assumed a priori. A similar approach is followed by Rodriguez Gonzales and Garcia Cardiel (2020), further entangling the study of boats as symbols with the study of boat iconography. These two, however, are very different things: symbols are images or signs that represent or stand for something else, while iconography is the broader study and interpretation of a subject matter in art. While boats have widely been used as symbols, not all the boats depicted in nautical iconography have a symbolic value. The iconographic analysis should precede attempts to understand the symbolic value of a boat in any given culture, as details in the representation of these items can provide clues to determine whether a symbolic attribution can be made.
Another iconographic study by Friedman (2011) discusses the material qualities of the media (mosaics) but does not provide a systematic approach to the interpretation of the iconography represented in them. Other authors recognize the need to be critical when using iconographic material (Waschmann 1998: 4-5), and the need to use secondary evidence from the same region/culture (McGrail 2001: 2-4), but apart from Wedde (2000), there are no real attempts to generate a meaningful framework to interpret iconographic material. A survey of iconographic articles on mediaeval ships published in the Mariner’s Mirror by Friel (2011) brings forth the heterogeneity of methods applied by maritime researchers but the author falls short from operationalizing his observations, while more recent examples of iconographic analysis show a focus on form without any discussion on the methods and theories applied in the analysis (see for example Tiboni 2016). Except for a handful of authors (Wedde 2000: 11; Flatman 2007: 3; Friel 2011: 95), most of the research that involves iconographic interpretation does not apply concepts related to iconographic analysis developed in the field of Art History and Visual Studies, an indication to broader issues related to a lack of interdisciplinary exchanges between the fields. Although not related specifically to nautical iconography, it is worth noting here the work of Vernon J. Knight, whose book Iconographic Method in New World Prehistory (2013) aims to bridge that gap by presenting an operational approach to the interpretation of iconography in pre-Columbian North- and Meso- America based on theories engendered in Art History and Anthropology.
There have been some recent efforts to incorporate some aspects of Art History and art production into the debate. For example, Shelley Waschmann in his article On the Interpretation of Watercraft in Ancient Art looks at the iconographic representations of ancient vessels as a fruitful avenue of enquiry to supplement the archaeological record in terms of the elements that do not survive, i.e. the upper parts and rigging (Waschmann 2019). He rightly argues that iconography should be used alongside textual, archaeological, and ethnographic evidence to create a more complete and accurate understanding of ships and seafaring in the ancient world. However, most of his focus is centred around a visual analysis of the “art ships,” emphasising the advantages and limitations of this approach. Unfortunately, Waschamann’s work is still mainly concerned with discovering the “truth” that would help with the reconstruction of the maritime vessels. This is a good example of how even when archaeologists successfully, but partially, apply methodological frameworks from other disciplines, like Art History, the results are limited because the research question is still restricted to a matter of form. This obscures other contextual information surrounding the actions or social aspects found in the iconographical description of boats.
This overview of iconographic analysis in maritime archaeology shows that there is a need for a methodological approach that can and should be consistently applied when studying visual imagery from any time period and by any discipline whose main area of study is not visual culture. While not without its faults, Art History has already developed a full system of visual analysis introduced by Erwin Panofsky in 1939 in his work Studies in Iconology (Panofsky 1939), which has been constantly applied, revised, and expanded by Art History and visual culture scholars to this day. At its core, Panofsky’s methodology is concerned with the analysis of a work of art to uncover the general history of the human spirit (Panofsky 1939) and in doing so he meant it to be universal. Panofsky’s methodology included an analysis of the formal aspect of a work of art (pre-iconography), the interpretation of the content (iconographical analysis), and the socio-economic and historical context of its creation (iconological analysis). In order to accomplish this, he suggested a system of checks and balances by which the final interpretation of the work of art could be evaluated.
The main criticism of Panofsky’s theory and a point that needs to be addressed if this theory is to be used in maritime iconography, is that the work of art or image in Panofsky’s theory is assigned a “terminal role” (Moxey 1986). This means that the work of art is studied in terms of the intention of creation by the artists, the commissioner, and the historical circumstances of the work when it was created. In this way, the work of art becomes a synthesis of the ideas that were current in the culture of the people who created it. It reflects the life of the times and in doing so it provides great insights into those times, becoming a useful tool for cultural analysis. Nevertheless, focusing only on this intention ignores, as Moxey suggested, ‘the function of the work of art as an actor in the development of cultural attitudes and, therefore, as an agent of social change’ (Moxey 1986: 271). This idea has led many art historians and visual culture scholars to not only study the art object in context following Panofsky’s theory, but also to take into consideration the reception of the image by the viewers –intended or not. This approach, named reception history, highlights the active role that the audience plays in meaning making (on reception history in Art History, see for example Kemp 1998, in Classics see for example Martindale and Hardwick 2008, in Cultural Studies see for example Machor and Goldstein 2001). This approach examines change of meanings through time. As stressed by Martindale and Hardwick, there is not one single ‘correct’ way of interpretation, but an ‘ever-changing ‘fusion of horizons’ between text and interpreter’ (Martindale and Hardwick 2015). Therefore, by understanding the life of a work of art beyond its creator and its form, we can better understand how that work of art has been interpreted, reinterpreted, used, reused, and appropriated both through time and by non-intended audiences (see Budelmann and Haubold 2008: 13-25). This post-creation analysis allows scholars to identify patterns of continuity in meaning or function that support the interpretation of the image beyond Panofsky’s original analytical framework.
Despite the shortcomings of Panofsky’s theory, its continuous use in contemporary visual analysis is a testament to its usefulness and sensible approach to the study and understanding of the art of the past, and the way in which it can provide a shared framework and language that can be used across time-periods, cultures, and disciplines. Embarking on a more in-depth and holistic approach by using this art historical theoretical tool could provide the archaeologist with information that, albeit not useful in terms of boat reconstruction in some cases, could become much more meaningful when taking into consideration other aspects surrounding the cultural attitudes towards boats and their reception/use. Acknowledging that image-making is intended in its most basic form as a means of visual communication, unraveling this visual language can provide groundbreaking results.
Our problem of interpreting these images lies in confronting the “otherness” of our position as scholars coming from a different historical moment and geographical area. The systematization of methods applying concepts from Art History and Visual Studies helps reduce speculation. This connects to the system of checks and balances that Panofsky proposed in his theory when he stated that to arrive at the correct interpretation one had to relate it to as many other works as one could find: ‘documents bearing witness to the political, poetical, religious, philosophical, and social tendencies of the personality, period, or country under investigation’ (Panofsky 1953, 16). In this respect the word “documents” can be taken as a blanket term for sources found in archaeology, literature, anthropology, ethnography, folklore, etc. Instead of seeing this as a disadvantage researchers should embrace the versatility of the data and engage in active interdisciplinary research, which is very much in line with Westerdahl’s Maritime Cultural Landscape (1992).
Based partly on Panofsky (1939), Wedde (2000), Burke (2010), and Knight (2013) we propose five rules or guidelines to conduct a critical iconographic analysis:
1.-Iconographic material must come from a single culture and has to be studied chronologically. Any interpretation must stem from its own cultural horizon and environment. Archaeological material should be used for correlation in the identification of the form.
2.-The research material should come from a single genre (architecture, sculpture, painting, etc.) and a single media (metal, ceramics, wood, stone, etc.). Only after an internal analysis has been conducted, the results from different genres and media can be compared. The more complex the images are, the more information can be obtained from them (Knight 2013: 86), and the larger the volume of images in the corpus, the stronger the argument can be made (Wedde 2000: 17, Friel 2011: 88). We should strive for this, and acknowledge the shortcomings of our interpretation in the absence of a strong iconographic corpus.
3.-The research should include a pre-iconographical analysis where relevant forms and artistic conventions are identified; an iconographical analysis where scenes are clustered in groups that narrow down the identification of the scene, and an iconological analysis that attempts to interpret the clusters taking into account the historical conditions surrounding the iconographical material.
4.-Once the internal analysis has been conducted (i.e. the pre-iconographical and iconographical analysis), any interpretive efforts (iconological analysis) must be correlated with other sources of data, such as archaeological material, historical accounts, ethno-historical accounts, folklore, or ethnographic data.
5.-Wherever possible, the iconographic analysis should strive to understand the image’s reception history, examining the way in which the audience has interpreted, reinterpreted, used and appropriated it over time. This may refer not only to the nautical scene per se, but also to stylistic choices found in the nautical design, like bow and stem decorations.
The use of these guidelines provide a much-needed baseline for standardized critical iconographic analysis, and can help determine the robustness of the analysis. It is by no means a definitive framework, but rather an idea that can be further developed and improved as we apply it to more case studies. A complementary reading to these guidelines can be found in Knight (2013) and Burke (2010). In what follows we produce an example of how this analysis is conducted using the case of the nautical scenes found in monumental remains from the kingdom of Angkor, which thrived in mainland Southeast Asia from the ninth to the fifteenth centuries CE. This represents an ideal case study, as there is a substantial number of (representational) nautical scenes with over one hundred depictions of boats, all of which are shown in social contexts of mythological or historical themes.