Dreaming With Open Eyes: The Shamanic Spirit in Twentieth Century Art and Culture

by Michael Tucker

Between fifteen and twenty thousand years ago, the cave painters of the Upper Paleolithic period created some of the greatest art the world has ever seen. The representational skills with which these artists depicted the power of the animal realm have never been neither has the mystery of the more free-ranging marks which flank the naturalistic images of bison and bull, reindeer and rhinoceros, horse and cow. While such marks may represent the hunting traps or magic formulae of prehistoric cultures, to a twentieth-century mind they can seem like the origins of abstract art. The art of the prehistoric caves was first brought to the world's attention towards the end of the nineteenth century; the paintings in the Altamira caves of Spain, for example, were discovered in 1879. Such discoveries continued well into our century. In 1940, four boys from Montignac in southern France followed a dog down a large hole which had perhaps been left by an uprooted the artistic treasures of the cave of Lascaux lay in wait for them. The richness of this completely unexpected find was such that Lascaux has come to be known as the Sistine Chapel of prehistoric art. Deep in a well, somewhat aside from the main galleries of Lascaux, there is one of the most extraordinary images in all art. A stick-like figure, with a bird-like face, outstretched arms and what appears to be an erect penis, is shown either falling or leaping in front of a large wounded bison. To the side of the figure, near its right hand, stands a rod, or staff, with a schematic bird's head affixed to its top. The meaning of this image has been debated for many years. Scholars now agree that it can be seen as a stylistically distinct cousin, so to speak,

464 pages, Paperback

First published November 1, 1992

Reviews

[Kerfe · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first half of this book was interesting, and it felt like the emphasis was on the art. The second half really dragged, with less art and more philosophy. I skimmed over much of it. I took it out of the library for the art references, and on that level I enjoyed it. Tucker made some good connections and introduced me to artists and writers that I will take a closer look at.

But Tucker has an agenda. He is not trying to be neutral about the shamanic elements of art: he's on the side of creation as necessary connection to our ancient lost mythic transformative (and better!) selves. The tone becomes more and more new-agey and worshipful as the book goes on.

I don't disagree that there's plenty to cause angst and alienation in the modern and post-modern world. But I do think that to idealize ancient cultures in the way Tucker seems to does not really make sense as an agent for change. We don't have to call in a shaman to know that the profit motive is bad for people, that governments and corporations are ruining the earth. Unfortunately, drumming and chanting and retreating from civilization are not going to stop them, and there's no way short of apocalypse that the world is going back to a pre-technological state.

Perhaps on a personal level this art can help to connect us to our lost spiritual selves. But if we want to change the world, it's going to take action, courage, and hard work.

[David]

Highly recommended.

[Kendra · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good read on how shamanism isn't really lost in the modern day period, but is showing up in art and paintings, some intentionally, and others subliminally.