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Preface

Small engraved and painted horses,
partially obscured by the Great Black Cow, Nave.
I first visited the Lascaux Cave on a
winter's day in 1970. It was late afternoon, and the massive bronze door
that formed the entrance to the cave obscured the diffuse light as it
closed behind me. The visit to this prestigious site would take place in
semi-darkness, relieved only by a few infrequent hidden lamps emitting a
discreet, scattered light. There were five of us on the tour, guided by
Jacques Marsal, one of the four men who had discovered the cave back in
1940.
We squeezed through the narrow entrance
hall, which had arched, stone-lined walls, and proceeded through a
second door to a similarly constructed hall known as the 'pediluvium',
or footbath. There, before we entered the cave, we had to rinse the
soles of our shoes several times, a ritual designed to eliminate any
bacteria, pollen or spores and thus prevent the introduction or
proliferation of harmful foreign bodies inside the cave.
As we continued, the formalin fumes of
the airlock were replaced by smells that were more characteristic of the
subterranean environment - those produced by the rock, the clay in the
soil and the constant high level of humidity. The ground sloped, marking
the beginning of the underground system, and the impression of the
natural shaft that had provided access to the deeper part of the cave at
the time of its discovery was visible in the roof.
Heavy precipitation over the past few
days had led to the formation of a small natural drain in the highly
fractured upper layer of the ceiling. The noise of the water pounding on
to a tin sheet-metal cover, which acted as a channel, faded and then
disappeared as we shut another door behind us. Passing through each of
the different compartments on this fragmented route, there was a
perceptible rise in temperature, which finally stabilized at around 12ºC.
The gallery widened appreciably as we
approached the final door from above. Only twenty-odd steps now
separated us from the cave's natural floor and the entrance to the
decorated chambers. We remained in total darkness for a few minutes in
order to let our eyes grow accustomed to the feeble lighting of the
halls and to enable us to discern the colours and contours of the images
on the walls more effectively. Only the discreet vibration of the pumps
below - used to keep out the water - disturbed the moment somewhat. We
opened the second bronze door, decorated with polished stones bearing
floral motifs, and entered into the Hall of the Bulls. Silence replaced
the sound of falling water, the slamming of doors and the shuffling of
feet. The following half an hour was to have a profound effect on the
course of my career.
In May 1980, the Superintendence for
Archaeology of the Ministry of Culture decided to set up a unit - the
Department of Parietal Art - for the research and documentation of
prehistoric cave and rock-shelter art at the National Centre of
Prehistory. The Department of Parietal Art, which I have headed up since
the very start, effectively extended my area of responsibility to
include all decorated Palaeolithic sites in France.
I resumed my study of Lascaux in 1988,
following in the footsteps of a succession of illustrious predecessors.
Strict conservation regulations restricted the amount of time I was able
to spend collecting data in situ. Being forced to regulate my visits
into a number of relatively brief episodes prolonged my research
considerably, but it also had its advantages. It enabled me to adjust
the methodology applied to the study and the various interpretations of
the results, and I was able to develop methods of recording and analysis
that were more specifically adapted to this environment.
Above all, this was a field study. Its
principal goal was to identify the natural factors that may have
contributed to the formation of the cave and to evaluate the ways in
which the paintings on the cave walls were structured. The spatial
organization of figures in the paintings and their chronological order
were thus assessed in detail. I also needed to explore space and time in
order to identify and understand the behaviour and motivations of
Palaeolithic man.
I approached the analysis of these works
of parietal art with the eyes of a natural scientist, basing my findings
on research disciplines such as karstology [1] and ethology. [2]
Extending the field of study beyond the site of Lascaux itself to the
entire drainage basin of the lower Vezere enabled me to place the cave
in its geological and archaeological context.
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