How do we talk about art?: A Reflection on Words and Culture
The Cairo Workshop organized by the Global Past Research Initiative was miraculous and charming. It transcended the boundaries of individual disciplines, bringing together students and professors from different academic and cultural backgrounds in one of the most historical cities in the world. This gathering facilitated a series of conversations surrounding various forms of art, such as architecture, books, craftworks, and so on. Just thinking about the very concept of such an interdisciplinary expedition is thrilling. However, the workshop inevitably raised the question of how people from various backgrounds can discuss art in a meaningful way.
The relationship between words and artworks is a fundamental aspect of art history. While my expertise may not encompass Egyptology or Medieval Islamic art, the methodology of formal analysis consistently allows me to engage with artworks from various cultures. This approach, which involves description and comparison, has the potential to ignite profound questions about the visual experience, serving as a catalyst for further academic research. It’s important to note, however, that formal analysis may not be universally applicable. As I believe artworks are not only made for art historians, I am always curious about how people from other disciplinary backgrounds, such as philosophy, archeology, theology, and so on, talk about art in the context of their respective fields.
Indeed, words posed a challenge when we faced the objects encountered in Cairo. On the very first day of our trip, we encountered the problem of whether it was appropriate to use the word “art” to discuss a huge, Ancient Egyptian sculpture. Though I tried to legitimize the sculpture as an artwork by connecting art to its original meaning of “skill,” this was not persuasive enough for those who view artworks as intermediaries to inspire philosophical concepts: how can art (skill) be significant under the lens of conceptual thought? This discussion highlighted the tension in the definition of “art” within our conversation. Although we use the same word, it reveals different aspects — both physical and metaphysical — in various intellectual contexts.
As the workshop progressed, I not only encountered the inconsistency of meanings when using words to describe objects but also the challenge of whether certain words were suitable at all. For example, the medieval masonry architecture of Cairo reminds me of one of the earliest mosques in China, the Masjid al-Ashab (Figure 1). One unique feature of the architecture is the extensive use of stone in its construction, which differs from the other early Chinese mosques made of bricks and wood. The limited use of stone in premodern Chinese architecture gives the Masjid al-Ashab a particular connection to its original cultural environment in the medieval Islamic World and a stark contrast with the surrounding premodern architecture in China (Figure 2).
However, the Chinese are not entirely indifferent to stone as a substance. The long-standing interest in jade has been a prominent cultural characteristic of China since the Neolithic period. When I raised this paradox — that, in premodern China, people adored jades but seldom focused on masonry — with an archaeologist who studies jade, she surprisingly argued that it was inappropriate to treat jades as stones since they are two different things. Our later discussion led her to reconsider her initial definitions of jade and stone but also prompted me to think further about how premodern Chinese people understood and categorized these two materials.
The above discussion, which connected to my presentation on Sheldon Pollock’s article on cultural hegemony, deepened my thoughts on the hegemony of applying modern academic concepts to premodern works. Specifically, in “Comparison without Hegemony,” Pollock critiques the imposition of a hegemonic framework in comparative studies, often resulting in a biased eurocentric or western interpretation of non-western cultures. Pollock calls for methodological reforms that prioritize understanding cultural artifacts within their own historical and cultural contexts, advocating for a pluralistic approach that respects the unique perspectives of each tradition [1]. Through this lens, my archaeological colleague’s initial thought could be right that in premodern China, people categorized jade and masonry stone as distinct entities. However, my modernized mindset simply treated them as the same, overlooking the very different visual-making logic hidden under their surfaces.
My acknowledgement of the tension between premodern and modern applications of words to describe artworks deepened while preparing for my on-site presentation at the Salihiyya Madrasa in Old Cairo. We facilitated a discussion connecting the site with Pollock’s idea about cultural hegemony in art historical narratives. Thanks to Professor Ruba Kana’an’s suggestion, I was reminded to think about how people organize and utilize their mother tongues to discuss art in their minds, instead of relying solely on English, which often dominates academic discourse. This inspired me to consider how a classical Chinese scholar, who lives in a world without English, would describe Islamic architecture. Luckily, I found a text from the early 17th century written by a Chinese literatus after his visit to the Masjid al-Ashab [2]. The text shows that the literatus understood the function of the architecture and the rites of Islam. However, the most interesting aspect of his text is that his method of organizing words to describe the mosque was based on Taoism. He used words such as Yin, Yang, and Tai Chi to describe the locations of different parts of the building.
I then attempted to use his Taoist framework to analyze the Salihiyya Madrasa, imagining I was a premodern scholar facing this building for the first time. However, I quickly realized I could not fully adopt the Chinese literatus’ methodology, as I was unfamiliar with the Taoist terminology and concepts he used to discuss his visual experience. While modern scholars might critique the cultural hegemony in his text, it is clear that Taoist ideology served as an epistemology for him to understand the world. Here, he used concepts and terminology rooted in premodern Chinese culture, rather than modern formal analysis, to describe Islamic architecture, moving beyond hegemonic structures to foster genuine cross-cultural dialogue. This exercise highlighted the gap created by the conceptual hegemony of modern culture in my understanding and use of premodern ways of discussing art. By attempting to use a Taoist framework to analyze Islamic architecture, I was embodying Pollock’s vision of comparison without hegemony. But the difficulty I faced in fully adopting the methodology underscores Pollock’s point that overcoming ingrained cultural hegemony is a perpetual challenge. I will need to think further about how best to incorporate premodern visual concepts, terminology, and analytical frameworks in my own contemporary scholarship.
From the examples above, one can see the varying possibilities for describing artworks. People from different disciplines and cultural backgrounds may apply different strategies to describe an artwork. Finding a good way to discuss art — one that maintains the character of art history while also being communicable with other disciplines, reasonable in the modern academic world, and meaningful in the context of the artwork’s age — will be a continuous consideration for me. Like many experiences I have participated in, the Cairo workshop raises more and deeper questions for me rather than providing answers. Nevertheless, this is one of the workshop’s most valuable aspects.
NOTES
[1] See Pollock, S. (2010). Comparison without hegemony. In H. Joas & B. Klein (Eds.), The benefit of broad horizons: Intellectual and institutional preconditions for a global social science (pp. 185–204). Brill. DOI: https://doi.org/10.1163/9789004192874_012.
[2] This Chinese text, recorded on a stele preserved in the mosque, can be found at Robarts Library. See Wu, W. [吴文良], & Wu, Y. [吴幼雄] (2005). Quanzhou zong jiao shi ke [泉州宗教石刻] (Zeng ding ben, Di 1 ban. [增订本, 第1版]) (pp. 18-20). Ke xue chu ban she [科学出版社]. Permalink: https://librarysearch.library.utoronto.ca/permalink/01UTORONTO_INST/14bjeso/alma991106429457106196
Kai Wang is a PhD student in the Department of Art History at the University of Toronto. His research focuses on premodern Chinese art history. In addition to Chinese art, he has a broad interest in art from various cultural traditions. He enjoys using cross-cultural perspectives to think about art and visual experience.