he word iconography comes from the Greek word ,; in modern usage iconography is a description and/or interpretation of the content

of works of art and therefore its history belongs to the history of human ideas. We propose, however, to distinguish between what one could call the intended (or implied) iconography and interpretative iconography. By the first we understand the attitude of the artist, the patron, or the contemporary observer toward the function and the meaning of visual symbols and images. Sometimes it was formulated in writing in documents like contracts (for example, Contract for Painting an Altarpiece of the Coronation of the Virgin for Dominus Jean de Montagnac by Enguerrand Quarton, 1453); in programs (known for several late-baroque ceiling paintings); in iconographical treatises (for example, Joannes Molanus, De picturis et imaginibus sacris, 1570); in utterances of the artists (for example, Giorgio Vasari's Ragionamenti, written 1567, published 1588), or of the patrons (for example, Abbot Suger's De consecratione ecclesiae S. Dionysii). Sometimes we can reconstruct it only by historical methods, by adducing philosophical, theological, or literary ideas contemporary with or current at the time. By interpretative iconography may be understood precisely that branch of historical study of art which aims at the identification and description of representations, and at the interpretation of the content of the works of art (this last function now preferably called iconology). Whereas interpretative iconography is a historical discipline of the study of art, the intended or implied iconography is an element of the general outlook and aesthetic attitude of the period. The degree of consciousness in approaching the problem of content in art varied at different times and places. In order to outline the changing relations of images and ideas, we shall in the present article discuss first the development of intended iconography, i.e., the attitude toward images and visual symbols as manifested in art and art literature in western Europe; the formation of what may be called systems of iconography: the medieval religious system, the Renaissance, and baroque humanistic system; the dissolution of systems around 1800, and finally, the new developments in the last hundred and fifty years. In the second part of the article we shall be discussing the development of interpretative iconography, i.e., of art historical studies concerning problems of iconography,

with a special stress on recent developments in that field. I 1. The origins of art are closely connected with religion and myth. The works of art of early civilizations were religious symbols, idols, expressions of fears and desires. An interpretation of meaning connected with these works of art is however uncertain due to a lack of reliable records. It is often impossible to say to what extent an idol or a religious symbol was considered as a representation of some divine

525 power and to what extent it was considered as embodying that power. The meaning of concepts like that of image (eikon) and of the corresponding Latin concept (imago) as well as of figura varied greatly; in general it evolved from that of substitution to that of representation (Auerbach, 1959; Bauch, 1967). In classical antiquity, due to the Greek tendency to anthropomorphic depiction of mythical divinities, an art world was created which was divine and human at the same time. Far from producing only representative statues of gods, suitable for cult worship, and adoration, or for the narration of mythical events, classical art soon proceeded to create an allegorical interpretation of myth (Hinks, 1939). The primitive mind is aware only of a generalized daemonic force outside itself, to which it is subject and which it must propitiate; and as it grows, the mythical presentation of its experience progresses from the undifferentiated daemonic power to the personal god, and from the personal god to the impersonal abstraction which is merely for convenience imagined in a human shape... (Hinks, p. 107). Just as the myth was provided with an aetiological explanation when it had ceased at length to be self-explanatory, so the image came to be interpreted allegorically when it had lost its self-evident character....As soon as philosophic reflection became self-conscious, the habit of furnishing straightforward mythical representations with allegorical

explanations made its appearance in iconographical as in literary criticism (Hinks, pp. 11f.). Hinks devoted a penetrating study to this problem. For the Greeks poetry and myth were more serious, more philosophical than history, since myth and poetry concern general truths whereas history concerns particular ones (Aristotle, Poetics IX. 3). Hence, there appeared a tendency to make mythical events express allegorically particular historical events; mythical wars of Greeks with Amazons, or of Lapiths against Centaurs, were represented instead of the historical struggle of the Athenians against the Persians. Mythical symbols were always preferred to historical images. This is a particular case of a general polarization which can be observed in iconography between the general and the particular, the mythical and the secular, the timeless and the historical, between the symbol and the story. The symbol corresponds to the mythical frame of mind, the image to the historical: ... even when, during the sixth and fifth centuries before Christ, the Greek mind succeeded in detaching itself from the object of its contemplation, and the mythical and logical forms of comprehension were theoretically distinguished, this immense intellectual advance did not disintegrate the plastic vision of the ancient artist, in the same way as the enlargement of the scientific horizon in the nineteenth century destroyed the coherence of the modern artistic vision (Hinks, p. 62). In this way forms of iconography originated which were to have a long life in European art, viz., those of personification and allegory. The classical gods received new, allegorical functions denoting natural phenomena or abstract concepts. On the other hand, abstract notions received personified form. There also appeared in classical art mixed, transitional forms, for example, what Hinks calls mythistorical representations, in which heroes and/or gods participated beside mortal humans and allegorical representations (Pnainos' Battle of Marathon). Since for the Greeks the essential meaning of an event was its moral sense, the only way to bring this out in art was to represent it in an allegorical way: the moral

situation must be personalized: the dramatic conflict of ethical principles must be represented by the concerted action of their symbols (ibid., p. 66). The greatness of the Greeks consisted in that they knew how to construct a mythical framework within which the movements of the planets and the passions of the heart are converted into symbols not merely comparable but actually to some extent interchangeable (ibid., p. 94). In the later periods of antiquity when irrational Orphic and Dionysiac religious movements prevailed over the reasonably organized world of Olympian gods, and when the Imperial Roman form of the state prevailed over the tradition of small democratic Greek states, there appeared new forms of iconography, which were to remain influential in the Christian period. Tomb decoration began to flourish, based on the allegorical interpretation of mythical imagery: Seasons, Bacchic myths, Venus Anadyomene, Sea-Thiasos (Cumont, 1942); imperial ceremonies gave form to elaborate triumphal iconography and they decisively influenced Christian symbolism. Late classical art elaborated also the representation of the internal dialogue of a man with his soul or conscience in the form of an external dialogue with an allegorical person, often acting in an inspiring way: a Muse, a Genius, an Angel, thus giving shape to a long-lived representation of inspiration, or of conversation with superhuman powers, current in art until modern times (Saxl, 1923; Hinks, 1939). 2. The history of iconographical attitudes in postclassical times is to a considerable degree a history of accepting or rejecting the classical tradition. Everything which recalled a heathenish idol-cult was rejected, and the meaning of imago was limited mainly to painted images, which being flat and therefore not similar materially to what they represented, suggested only the shape of divine figures. Nevertheless Christian art adopted various images and functions of images from the pagan tradition, developing, as it did, an

526 allegorical imagery of its own, a historical narration, and icon-portraits of Christ, of the Virgin, and of the Saints. The cult of the images seems to go back to a pagan tradition (images of the emperors, portraits of

the deceased) and most probably existed among the first generations of Christians (Grabar, 1968). That cult, which rose to greater importance in the fifth and sixth centuries, and the belief in the part of the holiness of their saintly prototypes being inherent in these images, became the object of a long theological quarrel, as a result of which attitudes towards religious iconography were differentiated in the West and in the East. In the Byzantine Empire the problem of religious images acquired an exceptional importance as the object of violent theological and political discussions and of decisions of the Church Councils (Grabar, 1957). At the Councils of 730, 754, and 815 images were prohibited, but at those of 787 (Nicaea) and of 843 they were again allowed. Although the partisans of the images triumphed, a very strict iconographic doctrine was established, which provided extremely precise regulations concerning religious imagery in the decoration of East-Christian churches. These regulations have been followed in the Eastern Church ever since. The traditional character of Byzantine iconography is demonstrated by the fact that the iconographic handbook by Dionysius of Fourna, Hermeneia tes zographikes technes, published by A. N. Didron (1845) was for a long time considered as a document of an early period of Byzantine art, and it was only in 1909 that A. Papadopoulos Kerameus proved it to be a work of the eighteenth century, obviously reflecting a very old tradition. In this static world of iconographical thinking little change is noticeable, although Eastern Christian art had its important artistic evolution and often absorbed Western influences, sometimes even in iconographic respects (e.g., the influence of German prints on the wall paintings in the Athos monasteries). 3. For medieval Christian thought everything in the world was a symbol. Things, persons, and events actual and historical, were considered as symbols of other things, persons, and events, or as symbols of concepts and ideas. The doctrine of universal symbolism originated in Saint Augustine (De Trinitate) and first of all in the Neo-Platonic philosophy of Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite, for whom visible things are images of invisible beauty. Thanks to John Scotus Erigena's translation, the ideas of Pseudo-Dionysius spread widely and it was Hugh of St. Victor who presented the complete theory of universal symbolism: all nature expresses God (Omnis natura Deum loquitur). For Hugh the universe is a book written by the hand of

God. Alain de Lille has given a popular, compact, poetic formula of universal symbolism: Omnis mundi creatura quasi liber et pictura nobis est et speculum (Every creature of the world is for us like a book and a picture of the world, and it is like a mirror). Saint Bonaventure finds that created beauty, being a sign of the eternal, leads men to God. Theologians discerned mainly two kinds of symbolism under different names but signifying two more or less basically similar divisions: (1) existing things endowed with meaning (res et signa) and (2) conventional signs (Chydenius, 1960). In the practical use of symbolism in art one can discern another diversity: an Aristotelian, rational trend and a Neo-Platonic, irrational, and mystical one (Gombrich, 1948; 1965). In the first case, the images were not considered as including any more content than their verbal equivalents; they constituted a code, a conventional language of signs used to communicate religious messages. In the second case, experience of symbolical images was believed to give the observer another, higher knowledge than that transmitted by words; it was meant to give a direct ecstatic, and enthusiastic contact with abstract ideas incorporated, as it were, in images. Medieval art used generally symbolic images conceived as a code transmitting its messages to everybody, also to those who were not able to read. The other attitude to symbols appeared in the Middle Ages in the mystical trends. The image which can be grasped in a sensual way was a means of transgressing the limits of the corporeal world, and of reaching the spiritual one. Such a function of images was formulated by various theologians. Jean Gerson, in the fifteenth century, put it in the following words: And we ought thus to learn to transcend with our minds from these visible things to the invisible, from the corporeal to the spiritual. For this is the purpose of the image (Ringbom [1969], p. 165). The didactic doctrine had been formulated already in the early period of the Church; according to that doctrine, images were considered as a form of writing accessible to those unable to read (Paulinus of Nola, Gregory the Great; also Thomas Aquinas considered images to be useful, ad instructionem rudium). This attitude lasted until the very end of the Middle Ages (later it was revived in the period of the Counter-

Reformation), and it found expression as late as the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in the early graphic imagery of such typological compendia as Biblia pauperum and Speculum humanae salvationis. The didactic aims encompassed not only the direct moral lessons which were transmitted through the imagery of prohibition and dissuasion, of the Last Judgment and of the Virtues and Vices, but also the visual repre-

527 sentation of sometimes complicated links among the events of sacred history, considered as prefigurations and fulfillments which were established between the figures and events of the Old and the New Dispensation. Thus typological thinking connected images into symbolic relations. Visual unity was established in the religious imagery through the large encyclopedic compendia, e.g., Glossa ordinaria (the large body of Commentaries to the Bible, until recently held to be a compilation by Walafrid Strabo), and Gulielmus Durandus' system of liturgy Rationale divinorum officiorum, or Vincent of Beauvais's Speculum maius, an image of the world seen in the symbolistic mirror. These books contributed to the realization of the tremendous iconographical programs of the great cathedrals of the high Middle Ages, where God, nature, and man were united into an exceptionally elaborated system of symbolic images, mirroring the model of the world current in the period of Gothic art. Art at that time followed the symbolistic way of thinking which prevailed in theology as well as in liturgy, in profane ceremonials, and in the other fields of life. Art gave artistic form to the abstract structure of the cosmos as seen by medieval theologians and brought it close to the understanding or to the imagination of every man. This does not at all mean that medieval symbolism was always understandable to everybody and everywhere. Very specific theological problems and controversies found their way into iconography, and when deciphered by modern iconographers they disclose often complicated religious and/or political situations (for example, the imagery of the Ruthwell Cross, which reflects the conflicting ideologies of Northern versus Roman Christianity in England, as revealed in an analysis by Meyer Schapiro, 1944). Neo-Platonic symbolism was developed especially under the impact of writings by Pseudo-Dionysius the

Areopagite. His influence promoted to a great extent medieval ideas about the symbolism of light. The symbolism of light found its highest achievement in the creation of Gothic architecture, dominated by the mysticism of light (von Simson, 1956). Abbot Suger, the auctor intellectualis of Gothic architecture, presented in his writings an excellent record of that attitude toward symbolism. In his De rebus in administratione sua gestis (XVII) he writes about the doors with gilt bronze reliefs: Bright is the noble work; but being nobly bright, the work / should brighten the minds, so that they may travel through the true lights, / to the true light where Christ is the true door /. ... The dull mind rises to truth through that which is material... (Panofsky [1946], pp. 46-49). Contemplating precious stones transports Suger's mind to a contemplation of the supernatural: Whenout of my delight in the beauty of the house of Godthe loveliness of the many-colored stones has called me away from external cares, and worthy meditation has induced me to reflect, transferring that which is material to that which is immaterial, on the diversity of the sacred virtues: then it seems to me that I see myself dwelling, as it were, in some strange region of the universe which neither exists entirely in the slime of the earth nor entirely in the purity of Heaven; and that, by the Grace of God, I can be transported from this inferior to that higher world in an anagogical manner (ibid., pp. 63-65). To a similar sphere of mystical symbols the specific symbolism of numbers also belongs. Numbers in the Bible and those referring to quantitative relations in architecture were considered as having a mystical meaning: the Divine Wisdom is reflected in the numbers impressed on all things (Saint Augustine, De libero arbitrio II, XVI). The belief in the mystical significance of numbers, which originated in Pythagoreanism and was revived by Neo-Platonism, was transmitted to the Middle Ages by the Fathers of the Church (Mle [1898]; English ed. [1958], p. 10). Complicated ramifications of this numerical symbolism in the field of medieval architectural iconography are studied by J. Sauer (1924) as well as by E. Mle (ibid., p. 10). The number eight, for example, connected with the idea of new life by the Fathers (since it comes after seven, the terminal number of human life and of the world), expresses the concept of resurrection and therefore that

of the Baptism; because of that early belief baptisteries and baptismal fonts are octagonal (Mle, ibid., p. 14). One may trace in such use of numerical symbolism a mystical rather than a didactic attitude. The general adoption of a symbolic attitude does not mean that in the Middle Ages no actual events were represented in art. However, since medieval art was very much traditional and remained faithful to exempla or compositional visual patterns, the actual events, when they were sometimes taken as subjects of representation, used to be transformed to fit preconceived traditional patterns. The written lives of the saints have been composed according to literary and mythical topoi. The same may be observed in art. When a new subject had to be represented it used to be molded according to existing patterns. As an example we may adduce the story of Saint Adalbert represented on the bronze doors of the twelfth century at Gniezno, Poland. The formerly executed European bronze church doors represented Christological narrative or allegorical figures or ornaments. The fairly recent hagiographic story had to be given visual shape. It is not surprising that the representations in most cases follow the patterns of Christological iconography (Kalinowski, 1959). Secular subjects, as for example,

528 the conquest of England by William the Conqueror and its circumstances, represented on the so-called Bayeux Tapestry, followed in the general idea the classical tradition. It seems that perhaps more of a direct experience of the actual medieval life found its way into art than is usually admitted, but the relative share of symbolism and realism, of system and freedom is still a matter of discussion among medievalists (Berliner, 1945; 1956). In the late Middle Ages the general system of iconography persisted, but new subjects, especially the representations of the most human episodes and relationships in Christ's life, namely of His infancy and His emotional connections (with the Virgin and Saint John) as well as His Passion and the episodes of Our Lady's life come to the fore. Although symbolical and didactic thinking maintained its importance, the means to communicate with the faithful changed: most subjects popular in the late Middle Ages appeal to the

beholder's emotions rather than to his reason. Scholars have selected a group of so-called devotional pictures as opposed to dogmatic and to historical representations, but the precise delimitation of such a group is still a matter of discussion, as is also the question of how much this art was influenced by literature and especially by pious poetry. With the development of the graphic arts new cheap pictures spread widely the typological imagery systematized in the Biblia pauperum, and in the Speculum humanae salvationis. Great collections of religious meditations, compiled in monasteries, like Meditations on the Life of Christ by Pseudo-Bonaventure (ed. I. Ragusa and R. B. Green, 1961), spread widely a new emotional approach to iconography. Also the religious theater had some influence on the way stories in art were told. 4. In the iconography of the Renaissance art history was shifted to the fore at the expense of symbolism. It does not mean that symbols ceased to exist. Pictorial allegory and symbolism played a very important part in the conception of humanistic art. But what was placed in the center of the new art theory was the concept of istoria. The first and the most important task of the work of art, according to L. B. Alberti (De pictura, 1435; Della pittura, 1436), is to present a story. This story had to be selected from authoritative literary sources, either sacred or profane; it should represent, in a possibly convincing and expressive way, an episode from the Holy Scriptures, from sacred or classical history, from mythology or legend. This new concept of istoria, which was to dominate iconographic considerations for more than three hundred years (the meaning of the term istoria or storia changed of course in that period) was one of the consequences of the Renaissance idea of the priority of literature over the visual arts. There were several reasons for that priority, one being a complete lack of known classical theory of art. In its stead the theories of poetry and rhetoric were adopted as guiding principles for the visual arts. Hence the dominating Horatian principle Ut pictura poesis, which subordinated the visual arts to the rules of literary theory. This identification of literature and art lasted until G. E. Lessing in 1766 revolted against it in his Laokon (R. W. Lee, 1940). In the humanistic theory of visual arts the concept of istoria took the central place. Istoria had to be chosen for its moral value (Alberti chose as his examples the subjects showing stoic moral firmness, as the Death of Meleager, the Immolation of Iphigenia, or the Calumny of

Apelles), it had to be represented according to the principle of decorum and costume, i.e., with regard to its dignity, and most truthfully to the literary prototype. Everything should be suitable in size, function, kind, color, and other similar things: Alberti stressed the necessity of varied and convincing expressions of emotions by suitable gestures. The dependence of post-medieval iconography on literature increased with time, and in the seventeenth century the truthfulness of the pictorial formulation of literary subjects became one of the most valued qualities of a work of visual arts. Read the story and the picture at the same time, Nicolas Poussin wrote to M. de Chantelou, one of his customers. In the French Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture lengthy discussions were going on concerning the relation of pictures to literary sources. To be able to represent well subjects taken from poetry, the artist had to be a doctus artifex, well-informed in various fields. G. P. Bellori (1695) stressed, however, the fact that not everything good in writing comes out well in painting. Therefore, the painter, to be able to transform the story, had to acquire an universal knowledge of things and he should contemplate precisely nature and realities. Some freedom was given to the artist from the beginning: Alberti was far from limiting the painter too much by this dependence on literature. He stressed the specific requirements of the visual arts, as for example, the necessity to limit the number of represented figures in order to keep a balance between copiousness and solitude in painting. This made it, of course, necessary to reduce crowded scenes to an easily graspable number of figures in order to avoid dissolute confusion (Spencer [1956], pp. 23-28). The interest of early Renaissance art theorists in iconography was not great. They concentrated their attention chiefly on the discussion of the means needed to achieve a convincing and beautiful representation of the istoria, and on the specific problems of representationcorrect (by adoption of the rules of per-

529 spective), and beautiful (by adoption of the rules of proportion). Leonardo da Vinci does not show a specific interest in iconography, but in some passages of his incompleted Treatise on Painting he gives literary

programs of pictures; remarkably, however, the pictures are not of stories, but of representations of powerful natural or human happenings, such as storms and battles. Here the naturalistic interests of the Renaissance come to the fore. An important achievement of the Renaissance, partly affecting iconography, was the reunionas noticed and described by E. Panofsky and F. Saxl (1932) and Panofsky (1960)of the literary and visual traditions of classical antiquity during the fifteenth century. During the Middle Ages the literary tradition of classical subject matter was separated from the visual tradition of classical artistic motifs, so that there was no awareness of their belonging together. The classical subjects, for example those taken from Ovid, used to be represented in contemporary medieval stylistic forms; classical artistic motifs, on the other hand, for example the forms of garment folds, human types, gestures, compositional patterns, and so on were used to represent Christian subject matter, as in the western portals of the Reims cathedral or in the pulpits of Nicola or Giovanni Pisano. It was only in the High Renaissance, e.g., in the works of Raphael, Titian, Michelangelo, and Correggio, that forms and iconography, themes and motifs became reintegrated. In this way the classical vision of classical subjects became sometimes so perfect that some works created around 1500 could have been taken for classical originals (for example, Bacchus by Michelangelo). The growing understanding of classical ideas and forms led to another specific Renaissance phenomenon, called by Panofsky pseudomorphosis: Certain Renaissance figures became invested with a meaning which, for all their classicizing appearance, had not been present in their classical prototypes, though it had frequently been foreshadowed in classical literature. Owing to its medieval antecedents, Renaissance art was often able to translate into images what classical art had deemed inexpressible (Panofsky [1939], pp. 70f.). In the north of Italy, beside the concept of istoria, poesia appears, a fact which also points to a dependence on poetry; this was understood mainly as referring to lyrical poetry, and not to epic or heroic. Mythological pictures by Titian were described in such a way (Keller [1969], pp. 24f.). The stress was on the poetical mood more than on an important human action; a

lyrical tonality was preferred to a heroic one. The archaeological interests then current in Padua and Venice, visible, for instance, in the works by Andrea Mantegna, were moderated by an elegiac poetic mood in reconstructing the classical world. Pictures by Giorgione, who worked for exclusive circles of humanists, were so hermetic in meaning that several of them, like the Three Philosophers (Vienna), or the Storm (Venice) are iconographic riddles up to our own day. The same is true of the enigmatic and poetic iconography of some pictures by Titian (Sacred and Profane Love, in the Borghese Gallery in Rome) by Lorenzo Lotto, or by the Ferrarese Dosso Dossi. The most important document of this romantic archaeological vision, which strongly influenced iconographical invention in Italy and outside of Italy, was a fantastic romance Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, attributed in the most plausible way to a Franciscan monk Francesco Colonna, and published, with beautiful woodcuts, by Aldus Manutius in Venice in 1499. Poetic visions of a dreamy classical landscape, full of ruins, in which the lovers Poliphilo and Polia wander, influenced the imagination of artists not less than the excellent woodcuts; their impact can be found as far and as late as in the gardens at Versailles. The illustrations to Hypnerotomachia also popularized hieroglyphic signs which make their appearance in iconography as a specific phenomenon of the Renaissance. 5. Art conceived as a language may be addressed to large or to small groups. It depends on the scope of communication. It can be intended as a message to a possibly large audience, but it can also be limited in its appeal to a small selected group of observers. In an extreme case the polarization could be that between a didactic art appealing to everybody and an elitarian cryptic message understandable only to the initiated few. Medieval art belonged by far to the first category; the art of the Renaissance to the second. Even in the monumental wall-paintings, decorating the most celebrated places of Christianity such as the Sistine Chapel, or the official rooms of the Popes, like the Stanza della Segnatura; even in the sepulchral chapels of the most important families like the Sassetti and the Medici, the iconographic programs and symbolism are extremely complicated. The meaning of the decoration of the great Gallery of Franois I at Fontainebleau is so cryptic that it was hypothetically explained only recently by the best specialists in icon-

ography (D. and E. Panofsky, 1958). Few works of medieval art have provoked such a number of interpretations as the well-known, and at first glance seemingly easy to understand, pictures like Botticelli's mythologies (Birth of Venus, Spring; The Uffizi, Florence), like Titian's Sacred and Profane Love, or like sculptures such as Michelangelo's Medici tombs. The same is true of works by Drer, Holbein, and Bruegel in the North. A deep symbolism, a complicated iconographyespecially current in the circles influ-

530 enced by Neo-Platonismbelonged to the perfection of the work. This idea had a long life: it recurs in 1604 in Carel van Mander's Book of the Painter, as well as in Bernini's utterances on the beauty of the concept which adorns the work. The more refined the concept, the more difficult the symbolism, the narrower the circle of those who can really understand the work. Art was considered, especially in the exclusive, court social groups, or among the humanists, as a secret language, accessible to the initiated. The visual sign was connected with words into a specific union of literature and art, which flourished at the time of the Renaissance, of mannerism, and of the baroque in the form of impresa, of hieroglyph, and of emblem. The roots of the impresathe personal sign and mottoare to be found in chivalrous devices and signs, popular in the late Middle Ages; it was brought to Italy from France and connected with Neo-Platonic speculation (Klein, 1957). Hieroglyphs became popular thanks to the discovery in 1419 of the Hieroglyphica by Horapollo Niliacus (of the second or fourth century A.D.), published in 1505. The humanists believed that this enigmatic image-script disguised a profound wisdom of the Egyptians: they supposed that the great minds of Greece had been initiated into these Egyptian 'mysteries'which in their turn, were of course one more prefiguration of the teachings of Christ (Seznec [1953], p. 100). Emblems originated from an erudite, intellectual play among the humanists, aiming however at a moral lesson and sometimes considered, in a NeoPlatonic way, as symbols revealing to those who contemplate them a higher knowledge of divine mysteries. Emblem included a motto, called lemma, an image,

and an epigram. Only the whole of the emblem can be understood, each element of it giving only one part of the meaning. All those cryptic codes of expression, connecting words and images, originated as secret and elitarian. The problem of the degree of obscurity was one of the main points discussed by the theorists of the emblematics (Clements [1964], pp. 191-95). Erasmus of Rotterdam stressed that one of the virtues of the impresa is that its meaning can be grasped only with an intellectual effort. Cesare Ripa (Iconologia, 1593) demands that symbolic images be composed in the form of enigma. Sambucus (1564) required obscuritas and novitas from the emblems. Paolo Giovio represented a reasonable middle: The device should not be so obscure as to require the Sybil to interpret it, nor yet so obvious that any literal-minded person can understand it. Later however, the cryptograms of hieroglyphics and emblem books began to be popularized and explained. Collections of emblems became widely known. New systematization of icon ography, now of a humanistic one, was inaugurated. In 1556 Vincenzo Cartari published the first modern handbook of mythological imagery: le imagini colla sposizione degli dei degli antichi (Venice, 1556). In the same year Pierio Valeriano produced a rich collection of Hieroglyphica (Basel, 1556). Earlier in 1531, Andrea Alciati had compiled the first emblem book (Emblematum liber, Augsburg, 1531). The influence of such books, which went through many translations and editions and which were imitated and continued all over Europe, grew at the close of the sixteenth and in the seventeenth century. In exclusive groups it happened much earlier that hieroglyphic, astrological, and emblematic imagery influenced the iconography of important works of art, as, for example, at the court of Maximilian I (M. Giehlow, 1915); sometimes this concerned works done by the most distinguished artists, like Drer's Melencolia I (Klibansky, et al., 1964). Emblematic principle of composition, uniting as it did the image with the verbal formulations, found great popularity in northern Europe, perhaps because, the importance of the word, so prominent in Protestantism, was stressed (Luther required fragments from the Holy Writ to be included in the Epitaph-pictures). Epitaphs and other religious pictures of the Protestant North connect words and images in the harmonious indivisible whole (Biaostocki, 1968).

In the Netherlands emblems played an important part in the development of realistic painting in the seventeenth century, since they furnished a rich repertory of imagery, charged with allegorical meaning (de Jongh, von Monroy). However, the meaning of those images, obvious to the viewer who remembered the original emblematic context, eluded for a long time later interpreters who were no longer conversant with the emblems. After Cartari and his followers furnished artists and patrons with images of classical gods, there was a need felt for another handbook, which would enable the artist to represent, and the patron to understand, the abstract, moral, philosophical, scientific, and other ideas symbolized. Only then was art able to express complex thoughts. This task was fulfilled by Cesare Ripa of Perugia, who in 1593 published his Iconologia, a handbook explaining how to represent all the incorporeal concepts. In 1603 Iconologia was republished with illustrations and became one of the most popular and influential art books. With Ripa in hand art historiansinitially mile Mle (1932)were able to decipher hundreds of allegorical statements in paint and stone, guided by this alphabet of personifications. Ripa's basic entity was a human figure, female more often than male, whose costumes, attributes, gestures, and other particulars express specific qualities of the

531 idea represented. With the publication of Ripa's work translated soon into many languages and frequently republished and revisedthe humanistic system of allegorical iconography was established: classical gods and personifications, hieroglyphic signs and emblems connecting words and images: this was the material used by the artists of mannerism and the baroque when they did not choose to keep to the historical world, i.e., to borrow their subjects directly from literature. When they did so, when they painted stories, they used to select them not only from Ovid and Vergil, but also from the more recent poems by Ariosto and Tasso, and also from the works of less known writers, ancient and modern. Valerius Maximus furnished them with examples of virtuous behavior. These historical examples were in general either connected with allegorical generalizations (in the big decorations of the late baroque the central fresco was often an allegory and the ac-

companying canvas-pictures presented historical examples of virtues; Garas, pp. 280-83) or conceived in an allegorical way. Ovide moralis was popular already in the late Middle Ages. Its influence persisted also in the time of the baroque. Myths and stories underwent allegorical interpretations along the lines of that moralizing commentary. What was considered necessary for an artist around 1600 can be seen from Carel van Mander's Book of the Painter (1604). It included a long, theoretical poem, a history of classical and modern Italian and Netherlandish artists, a translation and a moral interpretation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, and finally a description of personifications. There is no specific section on religious iconography, since artists were well furnished with books giving them rules in this respect. Against the humanistic conception of art the Council of Trent proclaimed rules, constituting a new system of religious iconography, which put an end to the live tradition of medieval art. These rules were published officially by the Church and they have been commented upon and elaborated in books by Joannes Molanus (1570), Saint Carlo Borromeo (1577), Gabriele Paleotti (1581), Federico Borromeo (1624), and several others. The rules of the Council governed the decoration of churches and other sacred buildings, and the character of pictures representing sacred subjects. A break between the religious and the secular iconography became obvious in theoretical literature, although there existed many emblem books of a very distinct religious character (G. de Montenay, 1571; B. Arias Montanus, 1571; H. Hugo, 1624). A new strictly formulated system of religious iconography coexisted in the seventeenth century with humanistic subject matter, symbolism, and allegory. The classical nude, introduced by the Renaissance into art, was strictly forbid den now in religious art, but found a free field of development in secular mythological and allegorical works. Many artists exercised their imagination in both fields; in some specific fields such as sepulchral iconography, cooperation between religious and humanistic symbolism was common. In the work of P. P. Rubens the various aspects of the new iconography found perhaps their best expression. In his art allegorical concepts, classical gods and heroes, triumphs of mythical beings as well as of secular rulers accompany martyrdoms of Catholic saints and the triumphs of the

Eucharist. What began to be separated in theory could yet coexist in harmony in the work of a great artist. 6. In northern European art (before Rubens) the renewal of the arts during the Renaissance took the form of the new study of nature and the elaboration of the most convincing means of representing the material world in an illusionistic way; traditional medieval symbolism was transformed in a specific way, producing what E. Panofsky called in 1953 disguised symbolism. The symbolic meaning connected with objects and qualities persisted, but a new mastery reproduced these symbolical objects with such a degree of realism that they did not differ any longer from other objects not charged with any metaphorical meaning. Sometimes the symbolical meaning of represented objects results from the traditional iconography in an unmistakable way, sometimes the meaning is hinted at by the inscriptions placed in the picture or on its frame. But in many cases the modern viewer remains perplexed without any sufficient clue to decide whether, in the picture he observes, he has to do with the beginnings of the representation of reality for its own sake, or whether the search for specific metaphorical meaning is justified. It is still always a matter of discussion to decide at which moment the representation of some objects or some scene in life without any symbolical (or historical) implications became possible (Gilbert, 1952). Observers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries to whom the meaning of old symbols was wholly forgotten took many images of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries for simple representations of life: Bruegel, for example, was considered as simply a painter of joking or working peasants. Recent studies in iconography have shown that these pictures are saturated with disguised meaning and that it is extremely rare before about 1550 to meet simple representations of nature in painting. In graphic arts the direct depiction of life and landscape began earlier, as in the works of Lombard draughtsmen or in the incredibly fresh, convincing drawings and prints by the Master of the Housebook. There are also early exceptions in painting like Albrecht Altdorfer's landscape without any human figures. But in general it was only

532 during the second half of the sixteenth century that landscape, genre, and still-life painting began to ac-

quire equal rights with religious and humanistic history and allegory, predominantly in Venice and in Antwerp. Even then, however, the representations of people working in fields (Jacopo or Francesco Bassano) followed the old traditions of Calendar-pictures and in the background of genre scenes, as in Pieter Aertsen's pictures, a biblical motif may be found, which transforms the whole composition into a storia, however unorthodox. With the development of realistic painting in the seventeenth century there appeared specific iconographic problems. New subjects slowly found convenient form. They entered the scene patterned after the venerable stories of sacred or of profane iconography. H. van de Waal described (1952) the process of the formation of national historical iconography in Holland. Scenes depicting recent happenings from a long struggle for national independence appeared first in forms assimilated to well-known religious or mythical scenes. This was not only an expedient facilitating their composition, for by this means the new subjects gained the decorum inherent in the adopted patterns formed to express traditional stories. Similar procedures may be seen in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when more and more sections of reality became interesting enough to be represented in art. The transfer of decorum from the sacred or allegorical figures to the humans represented is a means used in what modern iconographers call allegorical portraiture. Renaissance painters had represented real people under mythological or even sacred disguise; they gave actual faces of living people to the figures represented with all the attributes and characteristics of their mythical, sacred, or even allegorical qualities. Later it was only the pattern which remained: still in the eighteenth century English portraitists patterned the effigies of contemporary aristocrats after Michelangelo's Sybils or after allegories like the Caritas (Wind, 1937). J. B. Oudry represented the Polish King in exile, Stanisaw Leszczyski, with all the attributes of the allegory of exile, taken from Ripa, identifying him in this way with personification of his most prominent quality (Biaostocki, 1969). Dutch realistic painting of the seventeenth century is a document of an important iconographic conquest. Landscapes, seascapes, moonlit night scenes, snapshots of people skating in winter landscapes, views of market

places, church interiors, backyards, fishermen, old women preparing food, fashionable dishes ready for lunch, merchants and artisans, elegant gentlemen paying visits and folk-surgeons performing sensational street-operations: all this became subject matter for representation and continued to be considered worthy of depiction until the end of the nineteenth century. It was first considered as such in Holland only, then slowly everyday subject matter was recognized also by art-theorists in other countries, although it was regarded as much less dignified than religious, mythological, or allegorical subjects. Only in the nineteenth century did the vogue of realistic representation of everyday subjects become widespread. In Dutch pictures of the seventeenth century we are often confronted with nothing else than representations of picturesque reality. Sometimes however these genre pictures appear to be illustrations of proverbs, expressing moralistic folk-wisdom; sometimes they recall scenes from the popular threater of the rederijkers or rhetoricians, especially pictures by Jan Steen (Gudlaugsson, 1945); they contain allusions to emblems. Sometimes the elegant scenes from bourgeois life include quite indecent erotic allusions (de Jongh, 1967; 1969). The ambiguity of these pictures was certainly a source of specific pleasure for those who knew the key to their true meaning. 7. In Catholic countries allegorical art, sacred as well as profane, flourished. The twofold character of symbolic representations, mentioned above, persisted in the seventeenth century. Aristotelian rational symbolism, which used images as words, was widespread in the orthodox Catholic iconography of the CounterReformation, as well as in the humanistic visual language codified by Ripa and others. A mystical NeoPlatonic symbolism transcending reason reappeared too. Its outspoken document is the treatise by Christoforo Giarda, Bibliothecae alexandrinae icones symbolicae of 1626 (Gombrich, 1948). For Giarda symbolic images give the beholder a direct insight into the mysteries of religion, which are not accessible to reason. Thanks to symbolic images, the mind which is banished from heaven into this dark cave of the body, its actions held in bondage by the senses, can behold the beauty and form of the Virtues and Sciences divorced from all matter and yet adumbrated if not perfectly expressed in colours, and is thus roused to an even more fervent love and desire for

them.... Who, then, can sufficiently estimate the magnitude of the debt we owe to those who expressed the Arts and Sciences themselves in images, and so brought it about that we could not only know them, but look at them as it were with our eyes, that we can meet them and almost converse with them... (Gombrich [1948], pp. 188f.). Great allegorical compositions covering the ceilings of baroque churches are often realizations of this principle. For those however, who conceived allegory as a rational operation, as a language used for didactic aims, the main problem remained the clarity of the allegori-

533 cal message. The larger the audience to whom allegory was addressed, the simpler, more obvious its symbolism should have been. The banality of allegorical language provoked criticism in the eighteenth century. Francesco Algarotti (1762) prefers without any doubt historical representations to the empty allegories and complicated mythological allusions (Garas [1967], p. 280). Especially criticized was the obscurity of these allegories in which completely original, unknown symbols were used. Roger de Piles praises his favorite master Rubens, who introduced only such allegories, elements of which were already known from ancient art and opposes him to Charles Lebrun, who instead of taking symbols from some known source as the ancient fable and medals, has invented almost all of them and thus the pictures of this kind became riddles, which the beholder does not want to take the task to solve. To keep the balance between platitudinous redundancy and utter incomprehensibility was the crucial problem of late baroque allegorism. What is interesting, however, is that the idea of the picture as a riddle was not foreign to the seventeenth century. It appears in France as well as in Sweden, where David Klcker Ehrenstrahl (1694) proposed that pictures present riddles that could not be solved by everyone. In France, however, the painted enigma, fostered by the Jesuits in their schools, flourished especially well in the seventeenth century (Montagu, 1968). These painted enigmas lent themselves to various interpretations and gave interpreters an opportunity to show their ingenuity. These pictures and their inter-

pretations seem to prove that a considerable flexibility of meaning was intended. We might rather accept that a work of art was regarded in the seventeenth century as, in a certain sense, an open symbol, raw material like the myth or sacred story which it illustrates, on which the interpreter might exercise the power of his ingenuity, turning it into an allegory of Christian doctrine or a panegyric in honour of his patron

(Montagu [1968], p. 334). Such a situation probably existed only in some specific circles. It was a limiting case. The other extreme was to use in an uninteresting, routine way Ripa's symbolic images, or those of other popular symbolic handbooks. Such practice continued well into the eighteenth century. The general trend, fed by ideas of the Enlightenment was to make allegories more and more obvious. It is understandable that some theorists, like the Count de Caylus, looked for new subject matter, presenting as he did Tableaux tirs de l'Iliade (1755), or that J. J. Winckelmann tried to revive allegory and to give it a new force. It was, however, too late. In the eighteenth century, together with the whole system of humanistic tradition, the systems of iconography began to disintegrate. The great break in the tradition concerned not only style but also iconography. Emblematic roots may be discovered in Goya's symbolism as well as in the reasonable allegories of the Enlightenment, but generally speaking, there was a search for new, not known, or not used sourcesas in William Blake's biblical individualistic imageryor the new staging of the old ones, as in Jacques Louis David's classical subjects. The art of romanticism was a definite break with the past, much more in the field of ideas and iconography than in a stylistic respect, where romanticists retrospectively looked back either to medieval and pre-Raphaelite, or to baroque sources. Symbols and allegories yielded to an all-pervading mood, and the traditional repertory of religious, allegorical, mythological, and historical iconography gave way to a new iconography. Although several encompassing images of Christian and humanistic art survived, they received new content and essentially changed their character. New attitudes of the individual to the world of nature

and history, to society and destiny, to time and death, and new problems resulting from the striving after freedom (which was a new, perhaps most important principle of human behavior in all fields of human activity), found expression in new thematic fields and in new particular themes such as Storm-tossed Boat, Lonely Wanderer in the Mountains, A Death of the Hero (Eitner, 1955; Hofmann, 1960; Biaostocki, 1966). Romanticism has not formed and could not have formed an iconographic system, for, since they strived first of all for originality of individual conception, the romantics interpreted images in a subjective way as expressions of mood. Romanticism has, on the other hand, introduced new heroes and martyrs into art, instead of religious ones: the national, social, and artistic ones. It created a new image of history, seen now as a set of political and moral examplesas in baroquebut often put together now according to a very individualistic principle of choice. A correlative to pathetic and heroic romanticism was a bourgeois and intimate romanticism; its expression was, for example, the new imagery of the open window, which shows to the viewer wide perspectives, but shelters him at the same time from the dangers of the unknown (Eitner, 1955). When the world of ideas and images, created at the moment of the flowering of romanticism, began to be popularized for the use of the large bourgeois masses, the contentideological and iconographicalof romanticism lost its original authenticity and left behind not a new system of original images, but a dispo-

534 sition to melodramatic experiences and an inflation of a theatrical gesture (Hofmann, 1960; Biaostocki, 1966). The nineteenth century developed a realistic portraiture of man and nature and took over worn out clichs of the Renaissance and baroque allegories. It introduced new subject matter, taken partly from tradition, partly from observation of reality, tinted with vague symbolism, such as Forge or the Funeral of the Peasant, but it did not create a new system of iconography, in spite of short-lived revivals of symbolistic attitudes in such movementsincidentally not

limited to, and not initiated in, the visual artsas symbolism. New, ephemeral artistic movements, which constituted the history of European art in the last hundred years, show an interesting bracketing of style and iconography, in spite of a preponderant lack of iconographic interest. Their representatives chose subjects suitable to specific artistic aims and means which they developed and were interested in. Impressionists painted seaside scenes, landscapes, and genre pictures showing the life of artistic and intellectual milieus. Cubists introduced a specific repertory of still-life motifs, symbols of the artist's atelier and of the life of the bohme: bottles, musical instruments, books, fruits, flowers, newspapers. How much these motifs were connected with specific cubist style appears when one looks at works of artists foreign to the original cubist group, but imitating its style, as for instance several Czech artists like Emil Filla. They adopted cubist iconography together with cubist style. Abstract movements in general lacked iconography, although they were not foreign to symbolic tendencies, especially in sculpture (Brancusi, Moore). Only in the decades of 1950-70 can a revival of more articulated and programmatic symbolism be observed. One may suppose that this revival is at least in part brought about by the development of research in iconography and symbolism, which took place in the second and third quarters of our century. II 1. The origins of interpretative iconography may be seen in the descriptions (ekphrasis) of works of art known in classical literature. But these descriptions, like those by Philostratus the Elder or Lucian, are limited simply to description and lack in general any interpretation. Moreover, it is not certain whether they are descriptions of actual or fictitious works of art; at least opinions in this respect vary. Brief medieval tituli, which formulated in words the content of religious images were, to be sure, interpretative sometimes, but they were short and cannot be connected with the tradition of artistic erudition. We have to look to modern times to indicate the beginnings of iconographic interpretation and research. From Vasari's Ragionamenti, in which interpretations of the paintings decorating the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence are given, we learn how complicated and how undecipherable

iconographic concepts might have been, even to people living in buildings decorated by paintings expressing these concepts. But perhaps the first really to be considered as interested in iconographic research was the seventeenth-century archaeologist and art theorist Giovanni Pietro Bellori. In the introduction to his Lives of Artists (1672) Bellori stressed that he paid special attention to the content of the works of art he was talking about, and he even credited the painter Nicolas Poussin with having directed his attention to iconography. In his Lives Bellori presented short interpretative descriptions of pictures, and he sometimes developed these interpretations further in small iconographic essays; the influence of classical ekphrasis on him is a possibility. Sometimes his errors took deep roots in the subsequent history of art, as when he explained Poussin's Triumph of Flora (Dresden) by designating Ovid's Metamorphoses as its source. The true source, Marino's Adona, was finally found by R. E. Spear in 1965. What is interesting in Bellori's procedure is that he first identifies the motifs, tries to connect them with classical or modern literary sources, and then proceeds to find out the deep meaning, the general symbolic idea of the work. Therefore he may be considered as one of the pioneers not only of iconography as a discipline of research, but also of iconology, as formulated by its recent partisans. That even in the second half of the sixteenth century some observers were inclined to look for hidden meaning in each element of the work of art, we learn from Joannes Molanus (1570), who in De picturis et imaginibus sacris states reasonably that it is not necessary to ask for meaning of everything that can be observed in a picture: in such cases a lot of absurd things may result. But the consciousness of the importance of iconography increased and at the end of the seventeenth century Andr Flibien stressed that in order to attribute a picture to a painter it is not enough to know the way he uses his brush; one needs also to know his esprit, to learn his gnie, and to be able to foresee in which way he is able to form his conceptions. Thus iconographic analysis was considered necessary even for the purpose of attribution. Descriptive interpretations of the works of ancient art appeared in the big archaeological publications of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, such as Jacques Spon's Miscellanea eruditae antiquitatis (1679),

G. P. Bellori's Admiranda romanarum antiquitatum ac veteris sculpturae vestigia (1693), P. de Caylus' Recueil

535 d'antiquits gyptiennes, trusques, grecques et romaines (1752-67), and in an interesting endeavor (although very much criticized by Lessing) of Joseph Spence to explain classical poets through works of art and vice versa (Polymetis, 1747). Classical archaeology, however, has not been especially interested in iconography, and the use of the term itself by archaeologists was limited to portraiture. The first great development of iconographic studies was connected with the romantic movement, although an important prelude for it was hagiographical collections of sources such as Acta sanctorum published by the Bollandists (1643-1794, resumed later). Among the pre-romantic scholars in iconography the eminent German poet G. E. Lessing is to be noted. His study of the representation of death in classical times can be considered as one of the first essays in interpretative iconography, which is now called iconology. In Wie die Alten den Tod gebildet (1769) Lessing tries to interpret the classical iconographic type of Amor with the inverted torch and to find its intrinsic meaning by taking into account the religion, customs, and philosophy of the classical world. The work of art is interpreted by Lessing as a symptom of something else. While Lessing's predecessors (like B. de Montfaucon) explained the classical past by monuments he, for the first time, did the opposite: he explained the monuments by Antiquity (Maurin Biaostocka [1969], pp. 92-100). Pre-romantic and romantic interests in myth and symbol found their expression in publications and discussions by German philosophers and scholars like F. Schlegel, J. Herder, J. J. von Grres, and F. Creuzer. Creuzer's work, Symbolik und Mythologie der alten Vlker (1810), which shows the influence of mystical Neo-Platonic ideas on symbols (Gombrich, 1965), was the most influential in the romantic period in Germany. Under the impact of Chateaubriand's le Gnie du christianisme (1802), research in medieval iconography developed mainly in France. Works by French scholars, mostly clergymen, which were indeed concerned with Christian medieval art, dominated iconographical study in the nineteenth century. Since most of these writers were not professional scholars, their

work was often amateurish in character, but it is undeniable that books by A. N. Didron, Histoire de Dieu (Paris, 1843), the first part of a comprehensive, projected, but not completed iconography of Christian art; A. Crosnier, Iconographie chrtienne (Caen, 1848); C. Cahier, Caractristiques des saints (Paris, 1867); C. Rohault de Fleury, Archologie chrtienne: les saints de la messe et leurs monuments, 12 vols. (Paris, 1893-1900); L. Brhier, L'art chrtien: son dveloppement iconographique des origines nos jours (Paris, 1918); P. Perdrizet, V. Leroquais, and G. de Jerphanion have built up a solid body of iconographical knowledge, on which scholars of the twentieth century were able to erect a modern, comprehensive structure. In the field of Byzantine iconography, it was Gabriel Millet's Recherches sur l'iconographie de l'vangile aux XIVe, XVe, et XVIe sicles... (Paris, 1916; reprint 1960) that was basic for any further study. For Western, chiefly French art, a well-written and learned work, appealing to the general reader as well as to the scholar, was produced by mile Mle, who in his four volumes of the history of religious art (1898-1932) has presented a well-composed, synthetic image of iconographical development. A lexicographic summary of these studies of generations of French scholars is presented in the Dictionnaire d'archologie chrtienne et de liturgie, published from 1907 to 1953, and edited by F. Cabrol and H. Leclerq. A recent reference work is that by L. Rau, Iconographie de l'art chrtien (Paris, 1955-59). Russian scholars have done important work in the field of Byzantine and Orthodox iconography of religious art. The most prominent are: N. P. Kondakov, Ikonografia Bogomatieri (St. Petersburg, 1911; 2nd ed. 1914-15); D. V. Ainalov, Mosaiki IV i V vekov (St. Petersburg, 1895); and N. Pokrovski, Otcherki pamyatnikov christianskogo isskusstva i ikonografii (St. Petersburg, 1894; 3rd ed. 1910). V. Lasarev and M. Alpatov, belonging to the mid-twentieth-century generation of Russian scholars, discuss iconography in several works on religious art. German scholarship produced, in the nineteenth century, works by F. Piper, A. Springer, and H. Detzel. Useful compendia were produced in the early twentieth century by J. Sauer, W. Molsdorf, K. Knstle, and J. Braun. Dutch scholars C. Smits, J. B. Knipping, and J. J. M. Timmers contributed to iconographic studies in recent times; Knipping's book (1939-40) being the most important work on the iconography of the Counter-Reformation and supplementing Mle's volume of 1932. In the twentieth century, on C. R. Morey's initiative, iconographic

studies were inaugurated in North America. Focused on earlier medieval art, these studies developed at Princeton University. A new direction, characteristic of iconographic studies in the twentieth century, has been given to them by the international school of art historical research inaugurated by the Hamburg scholar Aby Warburg. At the International Congress for the History of Art at Rome in 1912 he presented a sensational astrological interpretation of the frescoes painted by Francesco Cossa and his collaborators in Palazzo Schifanoja at Ferrara. Warburg solved the secret of those representations which had puzzled the ingenuity of several former students, interpreting them as images of zodiacal signs and their decans. But he did not limit

536 his contribution to the presentation of his results. He wanted to stress the importance of his approach and of the method of study, which later became connected with his name. He said: I hope that through the method used by me for explication of the frescoes at the Palazzo Schifanoja of Ferrara, I have proved, that an iconological analysis, which does not allow itself to be diverted by the rules of frontier police from considering antiquity, Middle Ages, and modern times as interconnected periods, nor from analyzing the most liberal and the most applied works of art as equally important documents of expression, that this method, endeavoring, as it does, to throw light upon one dark spot, clears up at the same time great interconnected developments

(Warburg, 1912; Heckscher, 1967). Warburg's influence on the history of art was very great, although he himself did not write much. It was mainly the posthumous impact of his ideas, promulgated, as they were, by Fritz Saxl, which contributed to the specific direction of studies, concentrated in the library Warburg founded in Hamburg, and which Saxl succeeded in transplanting during the Nazi era to London, where it became the Warburg Institute of the University of London. While the object of study of the nineteenth-century iconographers was mainly religious

art in its relation to religious literary sources and liturgy, for Warburg, the study of images was a study of their relations to religion, to poetry, to myth, to science, and to social and political life. Art was for him closely connected with the polyphonic structure of historical life. Warburg's ideas had a great importance for the most influential theory of iconographic interpretation in our century, that elaborated by Erwin Panofsky. In Hamburg, where Warburg, Saxl, and Panofsky were active in the twenties, Ernst Cassirer built up his philosophy of symbolic forms, which constituted an additional background for Panofsky's system, being derived, as his own methodology was, from the traditions of Kantian philosophy. Around 1930 Panofsky's ideas ripened into a system, which found formulation in his book herkules am Scheidewege (1930) and later in a theoretical article of 1932. G. J. Hoogewerff was, however, the first to propose the word iconology as a name for the method of an analysis of content in a work of art (Warburg spoke of iconological analysis). In 1931 he proposed distinguishing between iconography, as a descriptive science aiming at the identification of themes, and iconology, aiming at the understanding of symbolic, dogmatic or mystical meaning which is expressed (or hidden) in figurative forms. He stressed that iconology deals with works of art without classifying them according to the technique used or to the achieved perfection, taking into account only their meaning. Hoogewerff saw the last aim of iconology in finding out the cultural and ideological background expressed by works of art, and the cultural and social significance which can be attributed to certain forms and to means of expression in the same time. Hoogewerff's part in the expansion of iconology was limited, because he did not endorse his methodical proposals with examples of historical interpretations. Erwin Panofsky, with whose name iconology has been connected ever since, not only developed its theoretical foundations, but contributed by his practical work in art history to the main triumph of iconology after the Second World War. The most influential book by Panofsky has been Studies in Iconology (1939), in which his masterly presentation of the method was connected with its equally excellent exemplification. 2. Panofsky considers the interpretation of a work of art as falling on three levels. On the first level, the

object of interpretation is the primary or natural subject matter. The function of interpretation is called pre-iconographical description. In order to be able to arrive at a correct interpretation on that level the interpreter must have a practical experience (familiarity with objects and events) common to everybody, at least in one cultural sphere. However, he has to control his observations by a corrective knowledge of the history of style (insight into the manner in which, under varying historical conditions, objects and events were expressed by forms). On the second level, the function of interpretation is called iconographical analysis; its object is the secondary or conventional subject matter, constituting the world of images, histories, and allegories. The interpreter's equipment in this case is obviously the knowledge of literary sources, giving him a familiarity with specific themes and concepts. The interpreter has to control his observations by the insight into the manner in which, under varying historical conditions, specific themes or concepts were expressed by objects and events. On the third level, the function of interpreting is called iconographical analysis in a deeper sense (1939), or iconological analysis (1955). Its object is the intrinsic meaning or content of a work of art. The interpreter's equipment on that level should be a familiarity with the essential tendencies of the human mind, and he has to control his interpretation by the insight into the manner in which, under varying historical conditions, essential tendencies of the human mind were expressed by specific themes and concepts. Thus, taking all the time into account what Panofsky calls the history of tradition, the interpreter has to aim at understanding the work of art, its primary as well as secondary subject matter, as symptoms of some fundamental tendency of the human mind, typical of

537 a place, a time, a civilization, and of an individual responsible for the creation of the work. Iconology for Panofskyis a method of interpretation which arises from synthesis rather than analysis. Trying to find the intrinsic meaning of a work of art, The art historian will have to check what he thinks is the intrinsic meaning of the work, or group of works... against what he thinks is the intrinsic meaning of as many other documents of civilization historically related to that work

or group of works, as he can master.... It is in the search for intrinsic meaning or content that the various humanistic disciplines meet on a common plane instead of serving as handmaidens to each other (Panofsky [1955], p. 39). The concept of intrinsic meaning of a work of art was elaborated by Panofsky much earlier (1925), when he interpreted in his own way the concept of Kunstwollen, introduced by A. Riegl to research in art. Panofsky understood this artistic volition as an immanent, ultimate meaning of a work of art, which is manifested in the way basic artistic problems are solved in that work. He used the same concept further to bring art closer to the other fields of human activity. Since the immanent ultimate sense of the work of art is nothing else than uniformity in the way of solving basic artistic problems, it is possible to compare that immanent sense with immanent senses of the other human works in various fields. Panofsky did it, for instance, when in one of his later works he compared the structural principles of Gothic architecture with those of scholastic thinking (1951). The system elaborated by Panofsky and exemplified by his own work in art history was the first consistent system of an integral interpretation of a work of visual arts, based on the analysis of content. In principle Panofsky's system takes into account all the elements of the work of art, since it takes as the point of departure the sensual, exterior shape of the work. It is, however, clear, that its main scope is not the interpretation of form as a bearer of meaning, but the understanding and interpretation of conventional allegories, literary themes, and symbols as symptoms of the history of the human mind. It was that method in the history of art which programmatically fostered a collaboration with all the other disciplines of historical studies. It was therefore one of the most influential methods, not only among art historians, but also among representatives of the other branches of humanistic studies. Although there were art historians who expressed a critical attitude toward iconology, as the new method was soon baptized, its influence was overwhelming. 3. It is not only, but mainly, due to Panofsky, that one can venture to call iconographical that period of art history as a historical discipline, which followed

the Second World War, and to oppose it to the stylistic one which preceded it. It does not mean, of course, that no iconographic research took place in the twenties or thirties: the works of Mle, Knipping, van Marle, Wilpert, Saxl, and of Panofsky himself would contradict such a statement. Neither is it true that purely formal research aiming at stylistic classification and analysis discontinued after World War II. It is evident that in the last decades (from 1940 on) iconographic interests came to the fore and became dominant in many countries. Iconographical studies grew so much in number and importance, that they made it possible to undertake and to publish new reference works of iconographic character, like dictionaries written by one scholar (Guy de Tervarent, Aurenhammer) as well as larger works based on a collaboration of several scholars (Encyclopedias of German art, of Antiquity and Christian civilization, of Byzantine art). Interest in meaning and iconography has appeared also among historians of political, social, and religious institutions. The symbolism of signs, ceremonies, costumes, and arms was studied by such scholars as A. Alfldi, Insignien und Tracht der rmischen Kaiser, Mitteilungen des deutschen Archologischen Instituts, Rmische Abteilung (1935), 1ff.; Die Geburt der kaiserlichen Bildsymbolik, museum Helveticum, 9 (1952), 204ff.; also by A. Grabar, Martyrium (Paris, 1943-46); by E. H. Kantorowicz, laudes Regiae... (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1946); The King's Two Bodies (Princeton, 1957); by H. P. L' Orange, Studies in the Iconography of Cosmic Kingship in the Ancient World (Oslo, 1953); Art Forms and Civic Life in the Late Roman Empire (Princeton, 1965); and by P. E. Schramm, herrschaftszeichen und Staatssymbolik (Stuttgart, 1954-56). In their studies iconography far transcends the borders of art, and it helps to build up a history of ideas by following their various visual expressions. Pioneering studies by K. Giehlow, F. Saxl, and E. Panofsky enlarged iconographical interests above all to encompass the large field of secular art, whereas they had been mainly limited to religious iconography in the work of preceding generations of scholars. The whole, complicated, and hardly known large body of meanings, disguised by the cryptic language of hieroglyphs, emblems, and iconologies, became one of the main topics of study.

This established a collaboration between historians of art and literature. Mario Praz's admirable study of emblems and his bibliography of emblem books (1939-47) belongs now to the foundations of studies in that field. Publications by W. S. Heckscher and A. K. Wirth, by R. S. Clements, E. F. von Monroy, and

538 H. M. von Erffa, E. de Jongh, and H. Miedema, and several other scholars, have elucidated the structure and meaning of emblems and have shown their tremendous influence on art, even in its most monumental and dignified forms. An uninterrupted flow of reprints of emblem books, which brought within the reach of modern students inaccessible volumes of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century emblem writers, were crowned by the monumental undertaking of Arthur Henkel and Albrecht Schne, who compiled an excellent volume including almost all the texts and images needed for the study of emblemsEmblemata, Handbuch zur Sinnbildkunst des XVI. und XVII. Jahrhunderts (Stuttgart, 1967). Research was under way on hieroglyphs (Erik Iversen), and on the imprese (the late Robert Klein), as well as on iconologies and allegories. These studies have disclosed meanings of the art of the Renaissance, of mannerism, and of the baroque not understood by nineteenth-century scholars. E. Panofsky deciphered extremely farfetched and individualistic programs of decoration of such famous ensembles as the Camera di San Paolo by Correggio in Parma, the Gallery of Franois I at Fontainebleau. Edgar Wind, Andr Chastel, and other scholars interpreted Raphael's decorations in the Pope's apartments. Michelangelo's art furnished material to detailed comprehensive studies by Panofsky, Ch. de Tolnay, H. von Einem, and Pope-Hennessy, in which the share of Neo-Platonic thinking in the ideological background of the celebrated works of Michelangelo was discussed. Innumerable studies have been devoted to Titian's mythological paintings. J. R. Martin presented explanations of the Carracci frescoes in the Camerino Farnese and in the great gallery of the Palazzo Farnese. Bruegel, considered in the nineteenth century as a drle painter of peasant life, has been shown by de Tolnay, Stridbeck, and others to be an allegorist expressing a skeptical, humanistic outlook. J. S. Held and W. Stechow contributed several articles to the under-

standing of mythological and allegorical contents in Flemish and Dutch art of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Rembrandt's iconography was put into new light by the two above-mentioned scholars as well as by H. M. Rotermund, H. van de Waal, J. G. van Gelder, H. von Einem and Ch. Tmpel. The intricate symbolism and subject matter of historical and mythological pictures by Nicolas Poussin were elucidated by such masters of iconographic research as E. H. Gombrich, W. Friedlnder, E. Panofsky, and above all by A. Blunt, who in his monograph on Poussin presented a new, deep, synthetic view of the ideas expressed by that artist's works. Goya's individualistic, secret symbolism was also studied with the help of emblems and the allegorical tradition. Bernini's works received iconolo gical treatment by R. Wittkower and H. Kauffmann. All of this research does not mean that there was a lack of interest in religious iconography. M. Schapiro, A. Katzenellenbogen, H. Bober, F. Wormald, and V. Elbern, among others, have contributed considerably to deepen our understanding of the not completely explained motifs and prominent works of medieval art. Panofsky has also shed a new light on several problems of sepulchral iconography; studies by such scholars as R. Berliner, G. von der Osten, L. Kalinowski, S. Ringbom, and T. Dobrzeniecki contributed to late medieval iconography in a new way; Berliner stressed the autonomous invention of visual artists or their patrons, while according to the traditional view, popularized by Mle, late medieval art should have followed strictly literary sources. The religious content of modern art, especially its allegorical form in the late baroque period, has been examined, and thanks to studies by such scholars as W. Mrazek and H. Bauer, has become better known, and understandable. A great change was introduced by iconology into architectural history. Buildings which were formerly interpreted from aesthetic and functional points of view only, have been shown to present allegorical, symbolical, or even emblematic ideas. Publications by leading art historians (R. Wittkower, B. Smith, G. Bandmann, O. von Simson, and G. C. Argan) have presented medieval and modern architecture as a bearer of meaning and have essentially changed the character of architectural history. The iconography of classicism and romanticism received a thorough treatment in books by W. Hofmann and R. Rosenblum, as well as in several studies

devoted to individual themes and pictures. G. Hersey has, for example, shown how much Delacroix's decoration of the library in the Palais Bourbon owed to Giambattista Vico's ideas about history. More recently, studies on Symbolism have been undertaken. Vincent van Gogh's symbolic language and iconography were the object of studies by J. Seznec, C. Nordenfalk, and other scholars. On Czanne's iconography interesting remarks have been published by M. Schapiro. Along with the development of iconographic studies the establishment of centers of documentation has advanced. The French stage in the development of iconography has not left any marked trace in this respect. It was in America, thanks to C. R. Morey, that the famous Index of Christian Art at the Department of Art and Archaeology of Princeton University was founded, at first limited to the early Middle Ages, then enlarged so as to include art up to the end of the medieval period. Copies of the Princeton Index are to be found also at the Istituto Pontificio d'Archeologia in Rome, and in the Dumbarton Oaks Library and

539 Collection in Washington, D.C. But that Index ends where art beginsas Panofsky used to say jokingly. The need for systematic iconographic files for modern art was strongly felt. In 1956, A. Pigler published a very useful book, Barockthemen, in which he listed thousands of works of art of the baroque period, according to their subjects. It was, however, far from being a systematic work. The first essay in establishing a systematic iconographic index for art of any time was done by The Netherlands Institute for Art History at the Hague, then directed by H. Gerson, which took the initiative around 1950 of publishing a postcard-size photographic index of its rich collection of photographs of Netherlandish art, ordered according to an iconographic principle. Once such an idea was formulated, the need for a comprehensive, consistent, and clear iconographic classification was urgent. H. van de Waal of Leiden University devised such a system of classification, based on decimal divisions, consistent and easy to read. He based his system on experiences of ethnology and on such elaborated systems of classification as that devised by Stith Thompson in his Motif-Index of Folk Literature, Vols. I-VI (Bloomington, Ind., 1932-36; rev. ed., 1955-58). Van de Waal has elabor-

ated a system in which the first five main sections classify five fundamental groups of portrayable things, namely: (1) The Supernatural, (2) Nature, (3) Man, (4) Society, (5) Abstracts. The last four classify specific subjects, such as: (6) History, (7) The Bible, (8) Myths, Legends, and Tales (with the exception of classical antiquity), (9) Myths and Legends of Classical Antiquity. Van de Waal combines the classification in the first and in the second group in order to classify general as well as specific subjects. Christ, in his system, is described with the sign 11 D (1 standing for Supernatural, 11 for Christianity, D for Christ); the adult Christ = 11 D 3; since shepherd on the other hand bears the signature 47 I 22.1, the adult Christ as a shepherd can be described in this system by the following formula: 11 D 3 = 47 I 22.1. Van de Waal has also provided means to describe more complex images, which he expresses by adding elements between brackets. The Annunciation with God the Father and a winged Angel is expressed by the following formula: 73 A 5 (+1 +41), 1 standing for God the Father and 41 for a winged Angel (van de Waal, 1952). This system elaborated for many years by its inventor, and prepared for publication in many volumes, has proved most useful in the practical arrangement of the Iconographical Index of the Netherlandish Art and, as the only one until now in existence, it became used more and more, in spite of some ambiguities and difficulties. As an endeavor to classify all portrayable things, persons, events, and ideas, and to create a consistent method to describe every possible image, van de Waal's system may be considered as one of the important achievements of the iconographical stage in the development of art history. Iconographic files exist of course in many institutions, as for example in the Ikonologisch Instituut of Utrecht University, one of the main centers of study in emblematics, and of course in the most venerable institution of iconographic research, the Warburg Institute of the London University and in other places. 4. What was the result of this iconographic turn in the development of the history of art? One thing is certain: that this discipline by necessity has come closer to other humanistic disciplines. Since the intrinsic meaningin Panofsky's terminologyof a work of art cannot be described in terms used by the history of art, but only in terms borrowed from the history of philosophy, of religion, of social structures, of science, and so on, the iconological method took

for granted and provoked such a collaboration. Art history was perhaps the first, or one of the first to show new interest in investigation of meaning. It was followed by similar developments in ethnology and in linguistics. We have mentioned above a parallel development in Byzantine and classical studies. Panofsky's influence has been considerable in the other fields of humanistic research. Since iconology aimed at discovering ideas expressed by a work of art, it awoke in art historians an interest in the history of ideas. This general shift of emphasis and of the direction of studies from mainly formal ones to studies aiming at ideas underlying art, was perhaps responsible, among others, for the fact that several contributions to the Journal of the History of Ideas have been written by historians of art. It is not difficult to see that such a development should have provoked criticism on the side of those who care about the purity and autonomy of methods. Iconology was criticized as far as its internal coherence, and also as far as its claim to be the integral method of the study of art are concerned (Biaostocki, 1962). Studies by R. Klein, E. Forssman, G. Previtali, G. Kubler, B. Teyssdre, C. Ginzburg, and G. Hermeren expressed critical opinions in one or the other respect. Iconology linked art with the rest of history, but it disrupted the links between the work of art and other things (Kubler, 1962). Concentrating on meaning, iconology neglected art as form, as individual expression. Iconology implied a rational relationship between intellectual content and artistic form. On the one hand, one spoke of iconological diminutions (Kubler, 1962)limitations of research to meaning only. But on the other hand, the overstatements of iconology were criticized: its representatives sometimes seemed

540 to assume everything symbolized something. And some iconologists seemed to consider important in art not that which makes art a different field of human activity, but that which connects art with other fieldswith the history of ideas. There were of course critics who had the opposite opinion. Since the end of the eighteenth century, a direct experience of art was more and more valued,

and its symbolical function considered as a burden. J. G. von Herder said: ein Kunstwerk ist der Kunst wegen da; aber bei einem Symbole ist die Kunst dienend (A work of art is there because of art; but with a symbol art is a service). Similar opinions were expressed by nineteenth-century art writers, and in this century they have been voiced by Benedetto Croce and by other Italian opponents of contenutismo, by which they meant interest in content. For such critics to put stress on iconography was to miss the essential in art and to focus attention on a subordinate function of art. Also among scholars who considered the function of representation and of communication as a legitimate and important function of art, criticism was expressed, not against the principle of an iconographical or iconological investigation, but against overstatements in their application. The introduction of the idea of disguised symbolism has created a danger, of course, of opening the way to fanciful interpretations. The allegorical and symbolical function of mythological imagery in classical art is also difficult to interpret precisely. Since no literary sources give a key to an interpretation of the iconography of the sarcophagi, very divergent theories have been expressed concerning their meaning. Some archaeologists, like F. Cumont (1942), believe that mythological and allegorical imagery (Anadyomene, Sea-Thiasos, Personifications of the Seasons) is to be read symbolically. The Sea-Thiasos, for instance, is to be interpreted as a symbol of the journey of the souls of the deceased to the islands of the blessed. Others, like A. D. Nock (1946), do not find enough evidence to accept other than a decorative function in such imagery. The intrusion of some representatives of psychology, e.g., C. G. Jung, into iconographic studies, giving them an unhistorical turn in their search for archetypal images, has complicated the situation, although art historians in general understandably have not accepted that kind of approach to symbolism (Frankfort, 1958; Gombrich, 1965). The fact that iconographic interpretations sometimes lack satisfactory proofs does not detract from the importance of such investigations, so long as they are conducted according to the requirements of historical methods, and take into account the corrective principles established by Panofsky. A correct acquaintance with the way of thinking of the artist, the patron, or the

viewer based on a satisfactory knowledge of documentary, visual, and literary sources, an awareness of the choice situations produced by historical developments, may enable art historians to discover the secondary meaning of a work of art as well as its intrinsic meaning. It is, of course, possible that the art historian will meet some works for which it will not be possible to reconstruct in a satisfactory way the world of ideas that would account for the meaning of those works. In such cases a reliable interpretation is simply not possible. R. Berliner (1945; 1966) criticized the widespread opinion according to which content of the works of visual arts in the Middle Ages had to be checked against the literary sources, considered as the only medium in which ideological innovations were permitted. Berliner pleaded for assuming a considerable freedom in the medieval artist and he considered iconographic innovation possible, even when no written evidence could be found. Meyer Schapiro (1947) presented proofs that sometimes purely aesthetic reasons decided the character of the work of art even as early as the Romanesque period. We can only touch on some specific discussions going on in the field of iconographic research. But iconographic research is far from being a closed system and the relative share of iconographic and stylistic criticism in the work of art historians is always a matter of discussion. It is certain that the iconographic period in the study of art has enlarged in a considerable way the understanding of the art of the past and that it has connected art history, in a way unknown before, with the other historical disciplines, and above all others with the history of ideas.

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ture (New York, 1964). E. Panofsky and F. Saxl, Classical Mythology in Medieval Art, Metropolitan Museum Studies, 4 (1932-33), 228-80. M. Praz, Studies in Seventeenth Century Imagery (London, 1939-47; 2nd ed., Rome, 1964). S. Ringbom, Devotional Images and Imaginative Devotions. Notes on the Place of Art in Late Medieval Private Piety, Gazette des Beaux-Arts, 6, 73 (1969), 159-70. Joseph Sauer, Symbolik des Kirchengebudes und seiner Ausstattung in der Auffassung des Mittelalters, 2nd ed. (Freiburg i. B., 1924). F. Saxl, Frhes Christentum und sptes Heidentum in ihren knstlerischen Ausdrucksformen, Wiener Jahrbuch fr Kunstgeschichte, 2 (1923), 63-121. M. Schapiro, The Ruthwell Cross, Art Bulletin, 26 (1944), 232-45; idem, On the Aesthetic Attitude in Romanesque Art, in Art and Thought, issued in Honour of Ananda Coomaraswamy (London, 1947), 139-50. J. Seznec The Survival of the Pagan Gods (New York, 1953). O. G. von Simson, The Gothic Cathedral (New York, 1956). R. E. Spear, The Literary Source of Poussin's Realm of Flora, The Burlington Magazine, 107 (1965), 563-69. L. Volkmann, Bilderschriften der Renaissance (Leipzig, 1923). Hans van de Waal, Drie eeuwen vaderlandsche geschieduitbeelding: 1500-1800 ('sGravenhage, 1952); idem, Some Principles of a General Iconographical Classification, in Actes du XVIIe Congrs International d'Histoire de l'Art, Amsterdam, 1952 (La Haye, 1955), 601-06. E. Wind, Charity: the Case History of a Pattern, Journal of the Warburg Institute, 1 (1937), 322ff. JAN BIAOSTOCKI [See enment; Renaissance also Allegory; Motif; Myth; Humanism; Baroque; Classicism; in Criticism; Art; Enlight-

Naturalism Romanticism;

Neo-Platonism; Tem-

Symbolism;

perance; Ut pictura poesis.]