A while ago, I was involved in a debate regarding the historicity of a particular archery technique.
The specifics of that topic will not be the focus of this video. Rather, I want to open
a deeper discussion over a specific point of contention that was continually raised,
and that is how we should interpret historical art.
There were numerous statements made in defense of historical artwork as a reliable source,
including the very fact that numerous art pieces exist, therefore what they show must
be considered proof; that people back then were more familiar with the subject matter,
therefore the drawings are more accurate; and more specifically that everyone had to
do archery – at least in England – which means that medieval or English artwork must
be accurate depictions.
What we have to consider above all is the very definition of art: it is someone’s
representation of the subject matter. We cannot automatically consider them infallible just
because they come from that time period.
Take a look at this historical illustration. There is one thing that is undeniably wrong
in this picture – the bowstring. Everyone knows that bowstrings are straight. You put
the arrow on the string, pull it back, and the string is under tension all the time.
There is no way a string can be curved – and yet this is a very common way of illustrating
bows.
Now there are other illustrations that do show the string being straight. Following
a particular logic, one might argue that since artwork shows both straight and curved bowstrings,
both must have existed in the past. No, that is not possible. A bowstring is always straight
because the bow stretches it out under tension. That’s just how a bow works.
We can go further to highlight illustrations that present other dubious representations,
such as this illustration of a mounted archer holding the top part of the bow with the arrow
placed underneath; or how bows are often too straight – similar to their unstrung form
– while being drawn; or whatever this guy his holding.
Without delving into any ambiguous areas, it is undeniable that historical artworks
do contain mistakes. That is the fundamental reason why we cannot simply accept artwork
as fact.
Let me be clear: just because historical artwork is not 100% accurate doesn’t necessarily
mean that it is 0% accurate. Like in modern art, some artists strive to be more accurate
in illustrating the subject matter; some do not. We do not accept every single detail,
nor we do reject every single detail. The accuracy of artwork must be examined with
a nuanced eye for detail, an understanding of the historical context and corroboration
with other sources.
An example of a detail that we can ascertain as accurate is this peculiar posture, which
involves the archer learning forward, almost hunched over. While it may look exotic to
modern archers, its use is well documented and described. For example, in an excerpt
from a recollection by bishop Hugh Latimer in the 16th century:
[My yeoman father] taught me how to draw, how to lay my body in my bow ... not to draw
with strength of arms as divers other nations do.
This is further explained in the 18th century by William Gilpin in his text, Forest Scenery:
the Englishman did not keep his left hand steady, and draw his bow with his right; but
keeping his right at rest upon the nerve, he pressed the whole weight of his body into
the horns of his bow. Hence probably arose the phrase "bending the bow," and the French
of "drawing" one.
When seen in context, it is understood that shooting heavy draw weights requires a more
specific technique, as is the case with strength-based activities like weightlifting. In the case
of archery, the shooter tilts the pelvis, maintains a straight spine and effectively
puts their body into the bow. The biomechanics of this method are also examined in other
sources, including the Way of Archery by Gao Ying which have strikingly similar postures
Further discussion on the biomechanics of archery can be found in the article “Beyond
Strength” by Justin Ma and Blake Cole.
What this means for us is that the historical depictions of this posture checks out. We
can say with more certainty that this is not an artistic error, because it is corroborated
across numerous different sources, both visual and written, and its practice has been physically
replicated, analysed and is still in use today by war bow shooters.
What about the illustrations that don’t show this posture? Maybe it came from an artist
who didn’t practice this method or know about it, or maybe it was an artistic convention.
It doesn’t necessarily mean the artist was wrong, but that they weren’t trying to show
a specific or correct form.
Speaking of artistic conventions, we also must be mindful that historical art doesn’t
follow the same methodology as modern illustrations. Take a look at this illustration of a horse
from a side and a front view, one so appallingly bad that it’s turned into a meme. But surely
a medieval artist must know what a horse looks like. They even got the side view very well.
Did medieval horses look like that from the front?
Obviously not. So why the apparent failure to draw something so common? Because at the
time, it would have been a completely alien concept to draw an animal from the front.
Most medieval artwork is drawn with mostly side poses, with frontal positions being uncommon
and mostly reserved for kings and saints. The point of these illustrated panels is to
tell a story to someone who was most likely illiterate, not too different from a modern
graphic novel without text. The goal isn’t to depict the subject matter accurately, but
to illustrate it so that it is recognisable, including anachronisms such as using medieval
clothing and armour for biblical scenes. In this scene, to show that these men are using
crossbows, the artist shows them being held sideways. Does this mean that medieval crossbowmen
shot like modern gangsters, or did the artist feel that an accurate side-view was too ambiguous
for the viewer?
We also have to understand the process of creating artwork. Modern artists will go through
extensive and varying processes to create their pieces, including sketching with pencils,
using traditional or digital media and adding layers upon layers of detail – tools and
processes which would not have been available to a medieval artist. Even predicting the
order in which the artist drew details might reveal the intentional flaws.
What was going in here? Did the artist draw the hands first, then the arrow, then the
bow, and then realising that he had to draw a face that was going to be obscured by the
string, forcing him to curve the string to make space, then squeeze in the face with
a brave attempt to squeeze in the other eye?
This painting of the execution of St Sebastian is often praised for its detail and used as
a justification for specific details. However, looking closely at the bows, it’s clear
that the artist painted the hands and the arrow first and in amazing detail. The bows
were painted over the top. You can still make out the outline and highlights of the shafts
underneath the lighter paint of the bow, and the fingers don’t quite line up with the
bow stave.
Paintings like this have a bizarre mix of details that are right and wrong. The artist
gets the bi-colour heartwood and sapwood of the bowstave right, even the positioning of
the bracer is consistent with the rotation of the arm at full draw, but the placement
of the string on the fingertips is definitely not how you draw a bow of this weight. And
the alignment of the string is strangely modern, something we don’t see until modern Olympic
archery, but more likely due to the artist wanting to show the detail and expression
of the face rather than obscuring it with a realistic position.
We could go on forever dissecting artwork, whether we disagree over details or not. The
point is that artwork cannot be taken as literal truth. Again, the nuance is that there are
things we can gain from analysing artwork. It isn’t black-or-white where everything
is right or everything is wrong. Each artist may focus on specific details and artwork
can present vivid insights into very specific things. We can learn a lot about how they
carried their arrows, or what clothing they wore, or the activities they did. But we need
to look at historical art with the same level of critical analysis as we would for modern
art. Modern artists have access to more comprehensive information at their fingertips and can express
their work in far greater detail, but more detail doesn’t make everything they illustrate
accurate. They can and will get specific details right, and specific details wrong – sometimes
unintentional, sometimes purposeful.
To conclude, I’m not trying to tell you to completely ignore historical artwork as
a source, nor am I doubling down on pushing specific interpretations. Instead, I want
to end with some of the questions that you should be asking when analysing historical
artwork as evidence.
Is the artist aware of the specific details of what they are depicting?
Is the artist making a deliberate attempt to portray accuracy?
Does the style and construction of the piece affect what is being presented?
We have to remember that most artwork is meant to entertain rather than inform. These aren’t
technical guides, manuals of arms or blueprints. Being more detailed doesn’t necessarily
mean that the details are correct. Nor should we apply umbrella assumptions like how everyone
must have known how to use a bow – because not everyone did, and it doesn’t mean that
they could or wanted to illustrate it correctly. Not only is it fine to be selective with our
sources, we must be selective. We cannot give all artists the same credibility. That is
why some sources are regarded as being realistic. Others, not so much.