Prehistoric Art

Jean-Marie Chauvet is no scientist and certainly no archeologist. In fact, he left school at the age of 14, worked as a stonemason, a hardware-store clerk and, finally, as a caretaker on the government payroll. But the 42-year-old Frenchman has devoted nearly every weekend for the past three decades to his life's passion: digging inside the sheer rock faces of the Ardeche Gorge in southern France in the faint hope of discovering a path back through time in dark, hidden caves.

DUDE, where's my mammoth? R. Dale Guthrie, professor emeritus in the Institute of Arctic Biology at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, has turned to crudely drawn images of such prehistoric beasts as the woolly mammoth, the giant bison and the auroch (an extinct bovine species) to support his theory that -- as is the case with today's graffiti -- testosterone-fueled boys produced virtually all cave art.

Painting on walls, while mainly a child's pastime today, was high art in prehistory. Depictions of mammoths, bison and even hand prints dot the walls of French and Spanish caves, drawn by prehistoric artists. Travelers can see such art on two small-group expeditions offered by Past Times Archeological Tours.

Deep within the limestone hills of the Ardeche region lies the secret entrance to Chauvet, the 34,000-year-old grotto called "the Sistine Chapel of prehistoric art." Ft. Knox-grade technology protects its opening. Inside are the oldest paintings now known to man, works so important and so fragile that the elite team of researchers assigned to study them is obliged to work under draconian conditions.

The big stone needed a little rocking. So the homeless man gently nudged it left and right, and then front to back. The basketball-size hunk of granite seesawed for a moment before coming to a stop--perfectly balanced on top of a delicately stacked pile of stones. Fernando Anglero carefully pulled away his hands and slowly stepped back. "It gives me such pleasure when I find the center," he said. "It brings me peace."

Conflict between the needs of 21st-Century Portuguese and the unique testimony of their Ice Age ancestors is starkly written on the rock walls of a desolate river valley. Hundreds of newly discovered rock engravings hewn 20,000 years ago in what may prove to be the world's largest outdoor gallery of prehistoric art are facing death by drowning in the valley of the Coa River in northern Portugal.

The city dwellers reached the granite bluff in the Mojave Desert just before dawn. Moments later the winter sun spilled over the southern Sierra Nevada, illuminating wall paintings of animals, celestial objects and medicine men, drawings that were old before Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel. "I felt an immediate connection," said Rowena Jeans of Palos Verdes, who had risen at 2 a.m. to visit the Indian rock art site as part of a UCLA archeology class.

Sierra de San Francisco, Mexico THE air was clear and fresh. Heat from the sun radiated from volcanic rubble, intensifying a midday temperature in the high 70s. Some nights were mild; some were frigid. But always, as the winter light waned, a concert began. Doves sang plaintive songs from the red willows or palms that lined the pools. Frogs started croaky calls, so loud at times that our tent vibrated in the echoes. Owls occasionally swooped up the canyon, hooting softly.

Deep within the limestone hills of the Ardeche region lies the secret entrance to Chauvet, the 34,000-year-old grotto called "the Sistine Chapel of prehistoric art." Ft. Knox-grade technology protects its opening. Inside are the oldest paintings now known to man, works so important and so fragile that the elite team of researchers assigned to study them is obliged to work under draconian conditions.

Archeologist Daniel F. McCarthy is trying to learn as much as possible about a mystery he believes will never be solved. McCarthy, 42, has recorded and photographed 50 Indian mazes he estimates are up to 3,000 years old in Orange, Riverside, Imperial and San Diego counties. "I know of no other similar aborigine carvings anywhere else in California, in America or in the world," said McCarthy, a scientist on the faculty of UC Riverside.

Sierra de San Francisco, Mexico THE air was clear and fresh. Heat from the sun radiated from volcanic rubble, intensifying a midday temperature in the high 70s. Some nights were mild; some were frigid. But always, as the winter light waned, a concert began. Doves sang plaintive songs from the red willows or palms that lined the pools. Frogs started croaky calls, so loud at times that our tent vibrated in the echoes. Owls occasionally swooped up the canyon, hooting softly.

Five visitors stand in the bright daylight outside the extraordinary cave. A guide switches off the yellow floor lights and slams the heavy metal door, sealing the entrance for another day. It is rid of body heat and contaminating breath. Pitch black. Cool. The only sound is water dripping from stalactites. The cave is at rest again, just as it was for 14,000 years until a hunter stumbled upon the entrance 132 years ago.

For hundreds of years, the eerily grinning visage of Tsagiglalal has kept watch over the Columbia River. She is a Northwest mystery. No one is certain who painted her or why. Yet she is a powerful force, even in modern times, evidenced by the thousands who come to gaze upon her rust-red image and perhaps also by those who stay away, considering her too sacred to look upon.

The big stone needed a little rocking. So the homeless man gently nudged it left and right, and then front to back. The basketball-size hunk of granite seesawed for a moment before coming to a stop--perfectly balanced on top of a delicately stacked pile of stones. Fernando Anglero carefully pulled away his hands and slowly stepped back. "It gives me such pleasure when I find the center," he said. "It brings me peace."

Conflict between the needs of 21st-Century Portuguese and the unique testimony of their Ice Age ancestors is starkly written on the rock walls of a desolate river valley. Hundreds of newly discovered rock engravings hewn 20,000 years ago in what may prove to be the world's largest outdoor gallery of prehistoric art are facing death by drowning in the valley of the Coa River in northern Portugal.

Jean-Marie Chauvet is no scientist and certainly no archeologist. In fact, he left school at the age of 14, worked as a stonemason, a hardware-store clerk and, finally, as a caretaker on the government payroll. But the 42-year-old Frenchman has devoted nearly every weekend for the past three decades to his life's passion: digging inside the sheer rock faces of the Ardeche Gorge in southern France in the faint hope of discovering a path back through time in dark, hidden caves.

Five visitors stand in the bright daylight outside the extraordinary cave. A guide switches off the yellow floor lights and slams the heavy metal door, sealing the entrance for another day. It is rid of body heat and contaminating breath. Pitch black. Cool. The only sound is water dripping from stalactites. The cave is at rest again, just as it was for 14,000 years until a hunter stumbled upon the entrance 132 years ago.

DUDE, where's my mammoth? R. Dale Guthrie, professor emeritus in the Institute of Arctic Biology at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, has turned to crudely drawn images of such prehistoric beasts as the woolly mammoth, the giant bison and the auroch (an extinct bovine species) to support his theory that -- as is the case with today's graffiti -- testosterone-fueled boys produced virtually all cave art.

A cave covered in 300 Stone Age paintings of animals, apparently untouched for about 20,000 years, has been discovered in southern France in one of the archeological finds of the century, officials said Wednesday. The perfectly preserved paintings of bison, reindeer, rhinoceros and other animals are comparable to those in the world-famous caves of Altamira in Spain and Lascaux in France, Culture Minister Jacques Toubon told a news conference.

A 7,500-year-old, tiny stone bear discovered by a group of archeology students from Cypress College could become the state's first official artifact. A bill introduced by state Sen. Ralph C. Dills (D-Gardena) would make the designation official and honor the contributions of native peoples. It has passed the Legislature and will become law if the governor signs it.