Simpleposie has a whole series of art history-minded questions up right now, including this one: "What would you consider to be the value of developing an historical imagination?" Having raised the idea, I suppose I should attempt an answer. First, I have to admit that my use of the phrase was more than a little glib in that all I know about Owen Barfield I learned from Howard Nemerov poems, and I've never read too deeply in Collingwood, either. So the particulars of their thinking don't necessarily concern me. What I suppose I meant was that studying the art of the past gives one a very direct apprehension that whoever made and first looked at these things was, while recognizable to us in all sorts of ways, going about things very differently than we do. What those differences are, what's within the implied scope of understanding of those past persons, what was possible or seemingly natural for them and what was not, what became possible at a different moment - these and a host of other questions come to mind. By seeing and appreciating the differentness of the past, and then to imaginatively attempt to mentally reconstruct it, is something bound up in all sorts of historical practice, but art history lays it out more plainly than most if only because it deals with what is seen.
What's the value of all this? In one sense, not much, if you're not planning to pursue further study in the field, or in a similar one. The usual bromides in favor of historical knowledge (doomed to repeat it, etc.) don't really apply. But developing one's historical sense and imagination does help when trying to understand, as one gets called upon to do, different people in the present. It fosters the qualities of judgement and tact, forbearance balanced by the ability to measure, not to mention an appreciation for the breadth and diversity of human experience, that are valuable in all sorts of ways. Not that it always works out, but nevertheless.
Too much earnestness! Time for some garage rock .mp3s, or if none are handy, Ravenna mosaics. Come on and ride on that fantastic journey. To summon up all of my imaginative power, let me say: cool.
Indeed, why not just leave it at the imagination? What is wrong with having one, I say, and finding as many possible ways to use it/ strain it/ give it exercise?
The study of history is incredibly stimulating - if you've got an imagination. And a nice reminder that the world is not centered all around you.
Posted by: eva | March 10, 2006 at 06:45 PM
Indeed, why not just leave it at the imagination? What is wrong with having one, I say, and finding as many possible ways to use it/ strain it/ give it exercise?
I'm all for the imagination, but what I think distinguishes the exercise of it in history (and some other areas) is the fact that one is talking about not just free mental roaming, but a subject that deals with other people, in this case often dead, even long dead. So there's a responsibility involved, one that we would want extended to us when gone as well. I guess my interest isn't only in imagination, but judgement, too.
Posted by: JL | March 10, 2006 at 07:04 PM
They're dead, and they're not dead. I've been to Ravenna twice and it keeps hitting me how Picassoid those heads are. We have history, and at the same time it's all happening right now.
I love Ravenna. The mosaics, the gelato, snappily dressed Italians going a giro at dusk. Christ depicted everywhere not in agony on the cross, but as Apollo seated enthroned on the universe, envisioned as a big blue ball. Heaven couldn't be any nicer. Blogtrip, anyone?
Posted by: Franklin | March 11, 2006 at 07:42 AM
I've been to Ravenna twice
I'm very jealous. I've never been. The mosaics there are some of my favorite works ever, especially the mausoleum of Galla Placidia.
I don't disagree with your larger point, though as you say, that's moving out of a historical concern and into a more purely artistic one. Nothing wrong with that - in fact, I'm sure you'll be delighted to know that it's a point frequently made by . . . 20th century French philosophers. Lascaux as contemporary art.
Posted by: JL | March 11, 2006 at 01:42 PM
Well, even a stopped clock is right twice a day. ;o)
Posted by: Franklin | March 12, 2006 at 12:06 PM