Friday, 12 April 2024

Walkabout and Whittles - connecting with nature


Walkabout is an Aboriginal word that has been appropriated pretty much globally, and, as Ray Mears says, "taken on a life of its own". The word has always been used in my family, presumably gleaned from that old novel Walkabout. As a young person I would often be walking with my father, and my mother would say, ‘the boys have gone walkabout.’ As I got older, I have continued to walkabout and have found it really important to connect with nature but also my sense of well-being, physical and mental health. The other aspect of this is my whittling and woodcarving, this has also become my hobby and a part of my self-care. I truly believe that the secret of life and the Universe, and our connection to the godhead is creativity, and that doesn’t mean painting a master-piece and being a famous artist and all that Ego stuff, but to engage with life in a creative way, whatever we are doing. 

You know, both walking and whittling has become a 'spiritual' thing for me. I don’t know much about other people’s spirituality, often it sounds like hippy-dippy bullshit to me, but what I have learnt, through my own experience in nature has become my own private and personal and pragmatic spiritual belief. And it works for me. I guess to a certain extent woodcarving has a place in religion, and in the Bible, according the Gospel Joseph was a carpenter, and if this is so, perhaps Yeshua (Jesus) was also trained to carve wood. As I carve wood and the grain appears, swirling,  it reminds me of the Universe and planets on their trajectories, and perhaps Super Strings or something of that quantum ilk.

Walking a path has a analogy of walking a spiritual path, a little like Dante’s pilgrim walking a path through Hell, Purgatory and Heaven, but it is also an analogy of walking Life’s paths. Along the path we find obstacles to overcome, and sometimes if we walk the same path over and over again, we can try different ways of overcoming the same obstacle. Because when we don’t learn a life-lesson we get the same cycle again and again until we do learn to deal with it in a different way. Likewise with whittling, it is like life, sometimes we create a wonderful woodcarving but sometimes that begins with a mistake. We make a bad mistake in the first few cuts and think it is ruined but as we work to fix the mistake, we find that often a bad thing can lead to a good thing. As such timelines and trajectories are often on my mind, can we jump to a different path and a different destiny? 


Wednesday, 10 April 2024

Return to Chauvet Cave


Some 35,000 years old, a small number of exceptionally skilled prehistoric hunter-gatherers walked into a cave in the present day south of France, and started to draw animals on the undulating walls, with breath-taking skill and dexterity. These representations include deer, bears, lions, rhinoceros, mammoths and horses. The French Inspector of Decorated Caves, the Archaeologist Jean Clottes believes that many of paintings are the result of just one talented individual, a so called ‘prehistoric Leonardo’, who is responsible for most of these images.[1] 

Why were the caves painted?

There have been many theories about the cave paintings, including that the animals represent clans within tribes; that it is a form of sympathetic magic; or it is simply art for the sake of art. These days the conventional anthropologist sees that the bear is important in its role as intermediary between Man and the Spirit World, and that the cave walls are some sort of spiritual membrane, and that the cave fulfilled some sort of initiation role, somewhat like a holy of holies, where the outer tunnels the profane entered and with the depths reserved for the initiated. (see for example David Lewis-Williams’ classic book The Mind in the Cave[2]). 

My old supervisor, Professor John Onians, prefers a totally neurological explanation, one of neurological spontaneity, where the initial result (of the bear) surprised our prehistoric artist and although they tried to replicate the effect, the results soon started to become jaded.[3] I have experienced the same sort of creativity myself, in carving wooden animals, only to find on trying to replicate the same effect a second time to find the result lacking.

From my understanding, the older theories are wrong and the new theories are only partially correct. There was of course a spiritual ritualistic element, and also there was also a neurological element as man ‘saw’ animals within the curves of the natural formations of the cave, under poor lighting. I know the latter to be true from my own experiences of running in the failing light through woodland, and in the total darkness with a head torch, where beasts and animals emerge from inanimate objects such as logs or bushes, broken branches or shadows: an optical illusion of sorts, formed within the visual cortex. It is the same method that Leonardo used in his sketches, to bring out ‘form’ from what could be a jumble of sketches and over-drawings on a sheet of paper, or him seeing landscapes in the mould growing on a wall. But there is more to it than that just being a process of neurology.

The location of Chauvet cave is in a horse shoe meander, called the Cirque d’Estre, a river that has cut deep into the limestone cliffs making a sheltered depression and with a naturally formed bridge called the Pont d’Arc. This landscape would have been both visually attractive to animals for its source of food and water, as it was to man (for food, water and also the aesthetics of the area) and therefore perhaps the area represented a sort of sanctuary in a dangerous landscape. It is possible that prehistoric man watched columns of animals walk across a tundra-like plain, dotted with Scots Pine, to this natural ‘oasis’ that would have attracted a plethora of animals for water and for grazing and for hunting, perhaps these prehistoric artists watched these animals cross the Pont d’Arc and down to the water’s edge, in a moving column. Man would have observed a coming together of nature in one place and one time which must have been an exceptional spectacle. In imagining the impact of such a vision, one may have the impression of Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book, with predators such as Bagheera, Akela and Baloo communicating together for some common good, and this impression, whilst a little naïve, may well have some relevance in the existence of an alternate reality of an animal spirit world.

Chauvet Cave contains a staggering amount of prey animals and predators, including rhinoceros, horses, lions, reindeer and bears; perhaps some of the oldest archetypes of spirituality in animal form. Indeed, if they are spiritual animal helpers as I believe, ask yourself the question: just how set apart these spirit animals are from what we would now consider ‘power animals’ from our knowledge of contemporary native wisdom? I believe very close. Indeed my contention is that the people who lived in the Eurasian continent 35 thousand years ago, which was, at the time, contiguous with America, were probably close in culture, and perhaps even ancestors of, the Native America Nations. Therefore I see it relevant to look at Native American Rock Art and culture to look for any similarities, particularly in a sense of hunter-gatherer spirituality.

The bear is very important in this sense of spirituality. As a spiritual animal guide, the bear is
almost human-like, and more so than we think. The note books of Leonardo da Vinci show that the bear’s feet are almost identical to that of a human foot, and a severed bear’s foot, denuded of fur and claws looks strikingly like a human foot, enough for Police in U.S.A., on one rare occasion, to begin a murder enquiry. The Native Americans also frequently carved bear foot prints according to the book Indian Rock Art of the Southwest:

‘In the Pueblo world, the bear track stands for the curing power of the bear and the paw is equal in power to the mask of other deities. When the Keresan shamans put on their bear paws, they “become bears”’[4]

I believe that the bear having human like characteristics, such as standing on two feet, made the bear a shapeshifter in the eyes of prehistoric man – a man-bear who can become either human or animal – and I believe this is integral in the prehistoric mind, later finding expression in the Viking Berserkers who were believed to change into bears on the battlefield. This idea of the close relationship between humans and bears lays dormant in our own minds today, to be inspired by literature and art. I think there is no coincidence that JRR Tolkien used a bear as a ‘skin-changer’ in his book The Hobbit, and later in The Lord of the Rings with a character called Beorn, akin to the Viking berserker, a man who changes into a bear. It is no coincidence that Russia uses the bear as it’s nation’s emblem, strong, intelligent and brave; or that we still feel an affinity to the bear and give our children ‘teddy bears’ to play with. Somewhere in our consciousness, in some deep tribal memory, is a deep understanding of the human like characteristics of the bear – a bear that communicates with us and becomes our teacher, companion and guide. 

 The bear is not just sacred in the West but also in the Far East. In the classic book The Golden Bough, J.G. Frazer records a wide spread veneration of the bear in the northern Japanese islands populated by the Ainu people, and a corresponding veneration of the bear in Eastern Siberia, the Eastern side of the Eurasian continent; here a young bear is taken and hand reared to maturity when it is ritually killed. In all cases the skull is separated from the rest of the body, attached to a tree, or added to a pile of bear skulls from other previous ritual killings.


Bears are also important to Chauvet Cave, at the Western side of the Eurasian continent, they hibernated in the cave, they left their claw marks in the cave walls and Man appears also to have venerated the bear and even placed a bear’s skull on a fallen stalagmite as a focal point of veneration or worship. The prehistoric artist also drew representations of bears on the walls of the cave; however, we will never know if bear cubs were raised to maturity for ritual killing.

The area of France where Chauvet Cave resides is now dry and hot, indeed the South of France with its arid warmth, vineyards and easy lifestyle has inspired many artists, who had the leisure time to indulge their fancies. Yet 35,000 years ago this was a harsh landscape and art was not produced simply for enjoyment, either in its execution or the viewing of the art by the beholder. There was an important reason to divert resources from hunting and gathering ‘life support’ tasks, to making this art. At this point it is important to consider an oft quoted saying of E.H. Gombrich, that there is no such thing as art, only artists[5]. In this context this idea is even more important to derive a solid conclusion of why this ‘prehistoric Leonardo’ painted in the cave. It is not to do with the ‘art’ but in the purpose and the intent of the artist. It is my belief that the paintings were created for what I refer to as an act of pragmatic spirituality or shamanism – a natural hunter-gatherer spiritual belief that is linked to the cultural and ecological environment in which they lived.

According to my own findings, the art work within the caves are not representations of clans or tribes as we might infer from Native American culture, or totems, they were not art for the sake of art, and they were not used as hunting magic; however, they are works of pragmatic spirituality. It is my assertion that these animals represent archetypes encapsulated in their animal form as spirit animals or animal helpers. In my own understanding the brown bear is the head spirit guide of the animal kingdom, the teacher, who imparts courage and ‘heart’ in times of adversity. The bear is the king of the spirit helpers, and a teacher. The bear is also a metaphor for Homo sapiens and so there is a direct link between the behaviour of the bear in the cave, for example clawing the walls (to make 'art') and humans going into the cave and being inspired to do the same. The bear is, like us, an omnivore, and will eat a combination of meat, fish, and plants. Anyone who has seen a bear in the flesh will notice the wicked looking claws that they carry around with them, always fixed protruding (as prehistoric hunter-gatherers carrying their knapped flint 'claws') and they can stand on two legs. They hibernate in caves…just as humans must at times become prone to their  mental health and retreat into the dark cave of depression...a  dark and moist space...womblike, nurturing and protective...

But for me, the cave is like the cranial cavity that holds the brain. As those prehistoric people entered the cave, in its dark, damp interior, they are able to remove the stimuli of the outside world and step back into their own minds, to explore their own neurology, to unwittingly conduct their own neurological experiments, to interact within the creative act of drawing animals, to interact with reality itself. These prehistoric ‘artists’, if I can paraphrase Semir Zeki[6], were the first neurologists, exploring their own brains through these unique brain processes, through the medium of ‘art’ in the unique atmosphere that the cave gave them, empowering themselves with the attributes of the animals spirits that they called upon themselves. Perhaps even 'becoming' the animals that they drew.


REFERENCES

[1] Clottes  J (2003) Return to Chauvet Thames and Hudson
[2] Lewis-Williams D (2002) The Mind in the Cave Thames and Hudson
[3] See for example Onians J 'The Neurohistory of Art: How Neuroscience Illuminates Individual Inspiration' in the seminar Why Music? Is Music Different from the Other Arts? Institute of Neurology, Queen Square 7th October 2011
[4] Schaafsma P (1980) Rock art of the Midwest University of New Mexico Press
[5] Gombrich E. H (1950) The Story of Art Phaidon
[6] Professor Semir Zeki (Neurobiologist) said that ‘all artists are neurologists, studying the brain with techniques that are unique to them.’ and that Muscians are also Neurologists, and that Wagner was the greatest of Neurologists (pers comms 2005)

Colour photos from Return to Chauvet (Clottes J ed. 2003)
B/W photo x 2 of rock art from Rock Art of the Midwest (Schaafsman P 1980)
Leonardo Bear Foot sketch from Leonardo da Vinci by Zoellner & Frank