Niaux cave (The breath of ancients)

Before the wheel, before myth itself, there was red and black on grey stone. A message sent forward through time. We don’t know what it means – but we can see and feel the need to create, and the longing to leave something behind.

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the walls of Neo are cold indifferent and silent but when people entered the void to survive they also made art our humanity and our need for expression was a revolt against time nature and oblivion before the pyramids before the wheel before myth itself there was a red and black on gray stone a message sent forward through time we don’t know what it means but we can see and feel the need to create and the longing to leave something behind the cave new is on the side of the hill it’s a part of a system of three caves oldest time 14 km long cold dark mysterious black outlines of bison horses and ibecks there were prayers stories warnings maybe instructions painted 70,000 years ago the Magdalenian people left their mark the cave was discovered in 1864 in 1869 the archaeologist mapped parts of the cave in 1925 a new gallery was discovered neo is still open to the public one of the last untouched caves no railings no polished floors just wet stone and black silence the entry gallery has symbols faint red on the stone as if some forgotten hand reached out once hesitated and drew a line to say that they were there the passage is quiet and the walls are mute they’re clever form signs red club shaped they resemble the letter P as if it’s written by someone who never saw an alphabet but dreamed of one anyway some lean to the left some to the right no one knows what they mean but they seem important they stretch from Spain to France an elegant ancient script in the red ochre most were drawn in the Magdalenian age but there is one older in the cave of Shia a tradition older than memory itself the passage narrows but once someone made it wider to let others through there are graffiti too made by idiots four long black lines vertical as towers dots again red and black some scattered some in neat rows short horizontal lines mark the wall the stone is rough near the floor a residue of time and water this gallery was flooded once long ago now is dry silent and eternal salon Noah this is the heart of the cave the walls are alive with art at the beginning there is a engraving of a trout or a salmon in the sandy clay of the floor in few strokes the artist has captured the essence of the fish two bison a heavy female a hulking male one lifelike one like a child’s dream above the right one a red P-shaped clevy form ancient defiant more bison a tail a leg a backline hitting at the Bristol hump one bison almost whole head and shoulders full of power thick neck heavy head faded but proud its line still there almost disappearing into the stone there’s a panel with the scene tangled with life two bison with thick beards four horses awkwardly drawn one over another as a ghost who wouldn’t wait his turn and a stag the stag is a 100 cm of grace from hooves to antler tip it should be noted that both bison have been drawn with the quite dark regions seen on the paintings of rhinoceros at Shia another complex panel bison horses and ibecks these bison are different fat furious creatures massive with tiny legs one looks back at you with a human face like some cave joke that outlive its audience notice the nose the ear the eyebrow the lips the chin even the beard is that of a human male it looks like Japanese manga drawing another with humanlike eyes a bison arrows pointing at its ribs like someone wanted to mark the kill spots or maybe just draw attention but then it turns brutal again a bison drove like menace this ibex is one of the most beautifully drawn of all the animals on the walls of new in my opinion the anatomy is perfect the pattern cold the well-drawn head and ears and the superb horns are a joy to my eyes a single engraving we don’t know its meaning some images are vivid a horse head delicately shade with the hatching to suggest a coat pattern there are more animals almost random horses bison all faded but enough to know they have run once a pair of bison one upside down a deer that exists only as antlers circling a natural hole in the wall there’s another panel with bison an isolated bison head a deer on the top and what might be the ibecks with the spears sticking out from it alive wounded but still standing this well-drawn bison has an eyebrow an eye as well as the nose and a beard two arrows are drawn on the bison with an isolated bison head facing it there are two clevs or a code we have forgotten how to read on another wall signs everywhere a mess of lines like the artist wasn’t sure what he wanted to explain the Salon Noah chambers reveals an extraordinary gallery of Magdalenian cave paintings executed with black pigments on the bare limestone walls neo was a ceremonial or symbolic space the people likely lived across the valley in the Gro de Lavash returning to Neo to record visions rituals or knowledge gallery Desar Press is modest and quiet there in the dark animal floats thinbodied with a thick neck nearby a symbol it feels accidental over Britain like a code or a confession whispered across centuries a horse elegant its presence feel uncertain and there are these idiots who wanted to put their names next to it gallery profont has a lone cone-shaped stellmite it rises from the floor like a monument to time silent and unchanging i find it pleasing for the eye this is an art form from the mother nature in 1949 they found the footprints over 500 of them pressed in the cave’s muddy floor most belong to children some lead nowhere others return retracing their own hesitant steps the footprints have outlasted the voices that have made them did they play games chased one another did they danced ran from the danger the walls are full of red ochre lines fading into nothing signs drawn with no one left to read them circles dots cleavforms the meanings gone no pattern no order just marks feathers or what looks like feathers drawn on walls elsewhere a smear of red no shape just the start of an idea that never got born deeper far from the light a bison lies shaped in the clay the artist fingers went into wet earth it’s big one meter from snout to tail the gallery cartel is not always there sometimes it disappears beneath the lake only in drought or when the water is drained the passage opens inside the gallery the rock bears images ibecks or a deer with high antlers red ochre marks stamped again and again the wall offers its own memory what they meant we do not know but someone long ago made them they understood its meaning better than we ever will lines drawn in charcoal torches burned down to stubs this place was perfect undisturbed untouched they think the artist used to come from the cave further down it’s blocked off now the cave does not speak it remembers everything is still now water is gone the painter is gone only art and silence it’s like a sentence half whispered by somebody you love in the dark and you don’t catch all the words but you catch the warmth if you watched this much thank you please subscribe comment and if you want you can support me for $1 per month the links 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