The image has priority, today more than ever. Who still reads commentaries, explanations, historical excursuses, or even entire books, when the image reveals everything “at a glance” (“d’un coup d'oeil”)? The question should immediately arise: What does the image convey... and what “more” does the (explanatory) text convey? Does one forget that the image, the drawing, is preceded by a process of understanding and implementation? Palladio describes it as the task of “comprendere & in disegno ridurlo.” One quickly recognizes that the even more urgent question should relate to the relationship between text and image; but just as quickly, one must realize that the two “media” very often prefer to go their own way “uninfluenced.” Either way! In any case, our interest is directed to the whole environment of mediation and formation of theory; comparisons come to mind.

Historically - in relation to explicit theory development since Alberti and the humanistic Vitruvius discussions - the question arises as to which is the “genuine” language of the architect. In De Re Aedificatoria (1452), Alberti dedicates the first book to the topic of the “Lineamenta”, through which the contents and architectural ideas are represented and implemented, entirely in the sense of the concrete task of “praescribere aedificiis et partibus aedificiis”, to which the form is given in this way. Dürer opens his introduction to geometry (1525) with the remark that he wants to give the (abstract) geometric line an extension by a stroke of the pen (“calamo facto”) so that it can be read. And Palladio lets us know: “Fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole”, but also just to keep it short. It is clear, for the architect everything is contained in the drawing, in the image; this is at least an option and a desire. Palladio's approach is then rewarded later, in 1752, by the observation of Charles-Etienne Briseux in his Traité du Beau, where it is said that in Palladio's buildings one would recognize “directly”, “at a glance”, the good proportioning: “... qui’ils ravissent au premier coup d'oeil.” The image communicates the rules of proportion directly without further long-winded explanations.

In Palladio's Quattro Libri (1570), priority is unmistakably given to the image. Even before that, Sebastiano Serlio in particular had systematically conveyed what the central positions of architecture were via the image, as these positions had developed, for instance, in the ambient of St. Peter's in Rome. In Serlio's work, as in Palladio's, authoritative exemplary ancient architecture is conveyed through the image, or more precisely through the geometrically based architectural drawing - with brief explanatory texts, often mere “image captions.” The arrangement of image and text in Palladio's Quattro Libri makes it unmistakably clear that the image takes precedence and that things are to be considered from this point of view. One may conclude from this that the image (the drawing!) has the primary theoretical weight and that what remains for the text is very often merely the supplemental function of footnotes.

But elsewhere, texts are in abundance! What about that? Does the architect read the great encyclopedia De expetendis et fugiendis rebus by Giorgio Valla? Who among the architects really knows Vitruvius and has access to such texts? Does this knowledge reach the practitioner, the “master builder”, who from Alberti to Scamozzi is relegated to doing based on a difference already explained in Aristotle (981b) at the beginning of Metaphysics.

So, this much is clear from the very beginning: the relationship between text and image concerns - in quite varied forms - the dichotomy of theory and practice, and even more directly, the question of the application of knowledge within the framework and conditions of possibilities that are given in different and varied ways among those directly involved in doing (the χειροτέχνοϛ, the one working with his hands, in contrast to the leading artist, the ἀρχιτέκτοϛ ).

In concrete terms, this means that it is worthwhile to pursue the relationship between image and text at different times and places, with their respective different building customs and “building cultures”. The question has never really been defused by the rise of education and continues to accompany us. On the contrary, the (privileged) treatment of the image has flowed directly into the modern understanding of “design” (project, Projekt, projet, progetto) and has - this too to this day - caused a certain aversion and resistance to explanatory texts and theory in general among many architects and their “teachings.”

Corresponding forms of “text-poor” “texts” have developed, keywords and catchwords that unerringly and pedagogically successfully convey architectural theory - or not! Do we stick with the equation “the language of the architect = drawing”? Absent long explanations and lengthy books? Has anyone critically observed that two of the most successful books of modern architecture, Le Corbusier's Vers une Architecture and Aldo Rossi's book on the city (Architettura della Città) are de facto collections of essays pieced together? Who reads books on architectural theory anymore? A professor officially appointed to a chair in history and theory of architecture has recently taken leave of architectural theory altogether and ostentatiously turned to - much more “inspiring” - art. So where do we stand today with the question of image and text and their relationship; does such a dialectical relationship still exist at all, or do the two ultimately go their separate ways?