Piero della Francesca and His Interpreters: Is There Progress in Art History?

Abstract

Burke and Sartre describe the French Revolution differently; F. R. Leavis and Frederic Jameson analyze Lord Jim differently. In history, as in literary criticism, when interpreters thus disagree we ask how it is possible for divergent interpretations both to be true to the facts and genuinely to conflict. Here there are two problems. 1) Since the facts often are in dispute, are the same facts appealed to in different accounts? 2) Do such arguments involve genuine disagreement about particular cases, or just general disagreement about how to interpret? Since Burke's politics differs from Sartre's, and Leavis and Jameson interpret literature differently, unless we can find some common ground in their accounts of 1789 and Lord Jim, what can we say except that their world views are different? These questions have recently been raised in the debate about Hayden White's work.1 If, as he asserts, the literary form of an historian's text influences how the content of that narrative is to be understood, then do such different accounts describe the same events? If in the historian's text, as in a novel, form and content are inseparable, how can history give us knowledge of the past? Hitherto art historians have not been very much involved in discussion of these problems. In posing and answering such questions about art historians' texts, my goal is to demonstrate that recent debates in historiography provide a muchneeded perspective on the present practice of art history. Since I seek an historical viewpoint, I initially pose these questions as questions about changing styles of interpretation in art history. I here focus on one useful test case, the painting of Piero della Francesca. Recent accounts of his work differ from earlier interpretations. How can we compare these texts, and what role does appeal to the facts play in that comparison? If styles of writing thus have changed, does art history give us knowledge about his art? Turning from Vasari's account of Piero to the modern interpretations is a startling experience. Vasari devotes but one long paragraph to the frescoes in S. Francesco, Arezzo (Figure 1)within walking distance of his home. He gives a seemingly random list of eye-catching details: