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Any discussion of prehistoric art and design begins with the problem of interpretation, and a fundamental question: What are we to make of the work our distant ancestors left us on cave walls, rock surfaces, and in the form of artifacts such as the various examples of art mobilier? The answers to this question are complex, but they require consideration if we are to arrive at some useful method of understanding these works and placing them appropriately among the vast array of human creative expressions. In my lectures in both History of Art and Design History, I maintain that what we actually can know about any given image is little; in terms of facts, the following information is available to us: the medium, the age, the form of the image (as a recognizable animal, for instance), and certain statistical information (such as the facts that animal figures predominate, human figures are few, there are no women represented in parietal art, etc.). Further investigation might help us to locate the tools that were used, and other material evidence might help us to form a working explanatory hypothesis. Very often, such evidence suggests a ritual or religious purpose behind many of the works. But before we pursue this avenue it is important to remember some basic human tendencies. First, human beings are metaphor-makers; we learn by using what we already know in order to understand what we do not yet know. Cognitive theorists George Lakoff and Mark Johnson have made the foundational role of metaphor in human life clear in their book Metaphors We Live By, where they note that not only is metaphor “pervasive in everyday life,” but also, “our ordinary conceptual system, in terms of which we both think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical in nature” (Lakoff and Johnson 1). If we lack experience of our own, we rely on stories of others' experiences. In order to make sense of new information, we place it within a recognizable context, and employ our gift for seeing one thing as another to compare the new information with what we already know. For example, we rely on our knowledge of what rocks are and what they look like when we encounter a rock we've never seen. So whether or not we can identify the type of rock we're encountering, we immediately recognize it as a rock--or at least as rock-like. Human beings are also storytellers. The vast number of myths that pervade our own culture (and the equally vast number that pervade other cultures) provide ample evidence that narrative literature, whether oral or written, is "in our bones." The more stories we know, the richer our cultural experience, and the larger our "cultural pool of metaphor" (a concept I have borrowed from historian of science Gerald Holton)--the repository of examples upon which we can draw in order to understand a new situation. But how does all this affect the way we interpret the images left behind on cave walls, thousands of years ago? In the past, anthropologists and art historians tended to interpret cave paintings (also known as "cave art" or "parietal art"--which refers to art created on walls) as reflecting essentially "primitive" views of the world. But modern researchers have come to recognize that since human beings have not evolved physically in more than 150,000 years, the fundamental intellectual abilities of Paleolithic hunter-gatherers and ours are roughly equivalent. What they lacked, of course, is the rich veneer of technology that has developed between the end of the last glaciation and today. We would expect their world view, then, to be radically different from ours--but not "primitive" except in a technological sense. One difference, however, points to something we have given up in exchange for our technological sophistication. As cave art specialist Jacques Courtin notes in the Archaeology film "The Cave Beneath the Sea," the world of the Cosquer Cave painters was full of animals and almost devoid of people. Paleolithic peoples needed to know a lot more about the natural world than twenty-first century people do, simply in order to survive. What this difference ultimately leaves us with is a poor connection between their context and ours, which severely limits our ability to see the world as they saw it. Interpreting what we observe One of the most frequently discussed Paleolithic figures can be found in the most famous of all caves, Lascaux. The image includes what appear to be a male human figure and a wounded bison. Adjacent to these figures are a group of six marks, a rhinoceros, and what can probably most easily be described as a "duck on a stick." For a link to the image itself, click here (and get the "official" interpretation by following the arrows). This collection of images has probably generated more controversy than any figure in the history of art, with the possible exception of the "venus" sculptures from approximately the same period. The central question seems to be, What does it all mean? The short answer is, as I have mentioned, we can't possibly know for sure. But the short answer is not very satisfactory, and since human beings are both metaphor-makers and storytellers, we can--and have--come up with a variety of possible (but not provable) answers. By the late '60s, when I had begun to study archaeology and art history, science was becoming an increasingly important tool in cultural interpretation. As a result, the interpreters began to be a bit more reticent about assigning definite meanings to particular images. One of the first books I ever read on the subject of "cave art" was by Peter Ucko and Andrée Rosenfeld, called Paleolithic Cave Art. Clearly they were aware of problems with earlier interpretations, and their discussion of the man/bison image may prove illuminating:
Ucko and Rosenfeld go on to describe other interpretations, including one which assigns notions of clan identity to the figures (44). However compelling these interpretations might be, they are still by nature speculative. The best are based on cultural analogy with present-day hunting and gathering groups, such as the San people of Botswana, or the aboriginal peoples of Australia. The latter methodology is particularly attractive to those interested in trying to understand the cognitive development of human beings, and it may turn out to provide valuable insights. Current theories about shamanism and trances (see David Lewis-Williams, The Mind In The Cave, and Jean Clottes and David Lewis-Williams, The Shamans of Prehistory: Trance and Magic in the Painted Caves) based on similar analogical descriptions may also be helpful. They just can't prove anything. But as I am fond of pointing out to my Humanities students, science is not so much about proof as about telling the best story based on the evidence available at any given time. I'll give the final word on this matter to Paul Mellars, from a recent article on "The Upper Paleolithic Revolution":
The scientific clarity that both Mellars and I require as foundations for interpretation do not negate in any way the narrative possibilities of these images. It the case of the man/bison image, it seems probable that the artist was trying to convey information of some kind (one can certainly ask of all these works, If they weren't trying to say something, why would they create the images in the first place?). All I ask is caution, and respect for the people who created the images. We should not try to impose our own meaning on their art; we can, however, derive our own meaning from their art: for example, that human beings are not only storytellers and metaphor-makers, but artists and craftspeople as well. Bibliography Cunliffe, Barry. Ed. Prehistoric Europe: An Illustrated History. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998.
Clottes, Jean and David Lewis-Williams. The Shamans of Prehistory: Trance and Magic in the Painted Caves.
The Cosquer Cave. Ed. Jean Clottes and Jacques Courtin. 27 March 2001. Ministère de la culture et de la communication,
La Grotte de Lascaux (Lascaux Cave). Des. Sandrine Michoud. Ed. Norbert Aujoulat. 21 September 1999. Ministère de la
Lakoff, George and Mark Johnson. Metaphors We Live By. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980.
Lewis-Williams, David. The Mind In The Cave: Consciousness and the Origins of Art. New York: Thames and Hudson, 2002.
Marshack, Alexander. The Roots of Civilization: The Cognitive Beginnings of Man's First Art, Symbol, and Notation.
Mellars, Paul. "The Upper Paleolithic Revolution." Prehistoric Europe: An Illustrated History. Ed. Barry Cunliffe. Oxford: Oxford
Pfeiffer, John E. The Creative Explosion: An Inquiry into the Origins of Art and Religion. New York: Harper & Row, 1982.
Rigaud, Jean-Philippe. “Art Treasures from the Ice Age: Lascaux Cave.” National Geographic. Oct. 1988: 482-499.
Ucko, Peter J. and Andrée Rosenfeld. Paleolithic Cave Art. New York: World University Library, 1967.
Some useful links New: The PBS television series, How Art Made The World, offers some recent interpretive ideas (the shaman explanation of David Lewis-Williams) and the companion website is helpful in this regard. D. Andrew White, Prehistory of Art. A relatively brief consideration of the problems involved with interpreting prehistoric art, with a good bibliography. "The World's First Artistic Traditions", from a course on Buried Cities and Lost Tribes offered by Mesa Community College in Arizona. It includes a passage from Richard Leakey's Origins Reconsidered (1993), which offers his take on the Bison/Man figure under discussion, and discusses the trance/hallucination theory behind many current interpretations. The latest word on the shamanism theories comes from Jean Clottes, one of the current leaders in the field of cave-art interpretation: The Shamans of Prehistory: Trance and Magic in the Painted Caves by Clottes, David Lewis-Williams, and Sophie Hawkes (the link is to Amazon.com, where you can see a table of contents and excerpts. I'll order this for the LRC, but it probably won't be available at least until the summer). Here is a recent article by Clottes on "Paleolithic Art in France." Paleoesthetique is a page on aesthetic issues arising from the study of parietal art, by Emmanuel Guy, a French scholar in the field. The introduction is in English, but the essays (which are quite helpful) are in French. (Now aren't you sorry you didn't take it in high school?) Here's a BBC News article, Oldest lunar calendar identified, by David Whitehouse. The site is Lascaux. |