Their very names are evocative: Font-de-Gaume, Lascaux, Altamira,
Les Combarelles, particularly if you have had the good fortune to
visit one or two of them.
These are the caves, mostly in northern Spain and southern France
- some 350 of them are now known - in which prehistoric art,
paintings and engravings, have been discovered. That means works of
art that are up to 32,000 years old.
I'd challenge anyone not to feel stirred by the sheer age and yet
remarkable immediacy of these works. They mainly depict animals -
horses, bison, lions, mammoths, aurochs, cows, reindeer, and now and
then even a rhinoceros or an owl or a human. Works of art that are
shadowy, suggestive, bold, repetitive, full of energy and often so
skillfully exploiting the formations of the cave walls and ceilings
that they appear to have emerged from within them.
They are knowing works of art. Although baffling to us, they know
their purpose, and are practiced in the skill with which they are
painted or engraved.
And most impressively, they are works of art that have survived
eons of ignorance of their existence and now, in the past century or
so, have survived the doubts of skeptical scholars, the invasive
influx of curious tourists, academic arguments (sometimes prickly
and personal), prehistorical specialists' theories and speculations.
And in spite of everything, they retain their mystery.
In The Cave Painters: Probing the Mysteries of the World's First
Artists, Gregory Curtis, who is no dry academic (he was himself
emotionally overwhelmed by his first cave-art experience at Font-de-
Gaume and this book stems from that moment) offers a survey of the
history of response to Paleolithic cave art in Europe as it has been
discovered over the years - two caves most recently in the 1990s.
Curtis is a good storyteller, and he has good stories to tell
about eccentrics of all sorts of dispositions drawn to cave art,
often to the point of obsession. He also examines, fascinatingly,
the many theories about, and explanations of, the paintings that
have been constructed (and often, later, discarded) over the years.
One of the most intriguing characters in his tale is Andre Leroi-
Gourhan, who "dominated archaeology and anthropology in post-war
France in the way that Jean-Paul Sartre dominated philosophy."
Leroi-Gourhan was not a theoretician. He looked for patterns and
signs in the caves and what he found led him to hypothesize the
existence of "a religious system based on the opposition ... of male
and female values, expressed symbolically by animal figures and by
more or less abstract signs...."
Yet even though this conclusion was based on visual clues, it,
too, became an untenable theory to subsequent specialists. …