Cave of Forgotten Dreams
In late December of 1994 a group of cavers led by Jean Marie Chauvet were exploring the Ardeche Gorge in Southern France.
The area is well known for its numerous cave systems and surface features of weathered limestone. Chauvet and his companions detected air movements emanating from a pile of rubble at the base of a collapsed cliff and suspected that they may have discovered a new cave system. Removing the delicately balanced rubble they cleared a hole through which it was possible, with difficulty, to squeeze. The sense of anticipation about the formations, shafts and chambers they might find in this new cave would have been immense. Imagine then, if you will, their reaction to the words of one of the party who breathlessly exclaimed, “They were here!”
They had discovered what was to become known as the “Chauvet Cave” and although they were unaware of this at the time, they were the first for millennia to see the finest and oldest known prehistoric cave art. As their lights penetrated the enveloping darkness they looked at the walls of the cave across an unfathomable abyss of time – the human beings who made this art had done so some 34,000 years ago.
Werner Herzog, in his documentary Cave of Forgotten Dreams, never sets out to bridge this temporal barrier because he understands the impossibility of such a task. He does, however, allow the art to ask the unanswerable questions for itself.
While there is a commentary (by Herzog himself) and interviews with various experts, most of the film is taken up with the exquisite, haunting and dynamic images of the cave art itself. This is as it should be because the art will, if allowed to persist on the eye and in the mind for long enough, begin to speak across a thousand generations.
There comes a glimmer of an understanding of the spirituality of the Aurignacians1 who drew animals on the cave walls to bring the rock to life and drive life back into the rock so that eventually it is not easy to separate one from the other. The heaving flank of a rhinoceros is depicted by a bulge of limestone and the rock breathes sympathetically. A herd of auroch is drawn on layered limestone deposits making it appear to recede into the distance. A female form, rare in cave art, merges seamlessly with the head of a bison.
The original soundtrack, composed by Ernst Reijseger, is discordant and ethereal. Its collection of sounds triggers distant memories of music, memories that are uncertain yet tantalising. The cinematography is remarkable for the way in which it makes such varied use of limited lighting and even more limited space. In some theatres it is possible to view this film in 3-D and, for once, it is possible to understand why this technology might enhance the viewing of this compelling film.
Herzog’s Cave of Forgotten Dreams requires active engagement of the senses. It is thought provoking and, setting aside the unnecessary postscript, highly relevant to the human condition. It also requires patience since the images and their impact will resonate long after the film is over.
Above all it is a film suitable for all those members of the species Homo sapiens who wish to briefly glimpse the soul of their long departed forebears.
Stuart Machin
1Aurignacian: A cultural period, characterised by certain types of stone tools, extending from 45,000 to 30,000 years ago.
