Artists of the Dordogne

Mike and I just returned from a few days in the Dordogne region of France. There’s a reason we chose that area. A couple of years ago, I was mediating – one of my favorite treats - at home in Annapolis. Sometimes when I meditate it’s like dreaming but not being completely asleep. This time I saw the inside of a cave with paintings on the walls. Shortly after this I learned of the caves of Lascaux and discovered that they were in France! Perfect. Those caves went on the short list of places to visit while we were living here.

Off we went to see the caves, only to discover that the Dordogne area is home to not one, but many caves, as well as other works of art ranging from the architecture to the food.

We stayed in the little town of Les Eyzies. It was clear that autumn had arrived. The trees were tinged with gold and russet and the numerous corn fields were filled with golden stalks topped with deep orange tassles. Our hotel overlooked a tributary of the Dordogne River that sparkled as it ambled past. Each morning a thin mist whispered along the surface of the water. We enjoyed the setting. I spent a relaxing late afternoon sitting on the hotel terrace, sipping wine, listening to the amiable French chatter floating by like the thousands of tiny flies backlight by the sun. One afternoon we had a picnic of foie gras and cheese along the river bank. Les Eyzies is built literally underneath and into a shear cliff wall. Buildings seem to morf out of the stone, sometimes precariously so. The Dordogne region is characterized by these long, shear rock cliffs along with rolling green hills– nature’s art.

But it was the drawings in the caves that brought us here. We learned that Lascaux is only one of many caves. Indeed, the area is filled with caves due to its unique geologic history that allowed the caves to form and to be preserved for thousands of years – like 15,000 years and that’s the minimum date. And, there’s a maximum number of people who can be accommodated inside. The ancient people weren’t exactly thinking about the tourist potential when they started drawing on the cave walls.

Thankfully, I was able to get advance tickets (sometimes it pays to be a planner!) to a couple of the most restrictive caves: Font de Gaume and Combarelles. Font de Gaume was our first stop and my favorite. It is one of three polychrome (multi-colored) caves in the world, and it happens to be the only one still open to the public. Mike and I arrived at the appointed time with me secretly wondering if this could possibly be worth the hassle and the seven hour drive from Cotignac. I mean, really – these are cave paintings after all. How much can one expect from cave paintings? But the magic started right away.

The mouth of the cave was slotted into the base of a shear rock cliff with rock hanging over head. It was a sunny cool day as our guide explained about the cave. It’s felt strange knowing we were walking a pathway taken by others thousands of years before into a place that some say is sacred. Our guide gave us the rules (including no photos, so I'll supplement the story with other photos from the area) about not touching anything….at all….so there was no risk of damaging the artwork. And, here’s the thing, it was art - in every sense of the word. We and ten others walked single-file into the dark narrow passage way, ducking under rocks as our eyes adjusted to the dimness. When we stopped, our guide asked us to observe the rock wall in front of us. The first thing I saw was a dark blob. As I gazed further, I had that flash of realization - the blob became a bison. Once we learned how to “see” the drawings, they appeared everywhere - in front, behind and above us. There are more than 200 paintings in this cave alone. We were literally standing in a 15,000 year old art gallery.

And there were so many things that I’d misunderstood. First, the people didn’t live inside the caves. They came here to paint their masterpieces – by firelight. I also thought the cave paintings would be simplistic – they weren’t. The subject matter was predominantly bison and reindeer but it was the rendering of the animals that made it art. It took reflection to truly appreciate their work. For one, the animals were drawn on rock – no erasing the lines – and there was no “practice cave” for the beginners! The art wasn’t realism but impressionism. Stylized antlers of reindeer swept upwards to frame beautiful compositions. And, the animals were eerily three dimensional. Color, shading and minute etching created detail, perspective and volume. But here’s thing - the animals were painted in harmony with the rock forms. The artists took advantage of the rock shapes to give the animals relief. A rock edge became a bison’s shoulder. A rounded stone was a reindeer’s rump. Of course, the artists were painting by the light of flames. It sounds limiting but, in fact, it opened their art to movement. The forms were more visible in the dim light with strong shadows than in the flat electric light. And when viewed by the flickering light of a flame, the animals moved! Static paintings came alive as light and shadow gave them ever changing animation and life. I felt like my breath had been taken away as I gradually grasped the complexity and sheer beauty of this art form. This alone was worth the trip.

Our next appointment was at Combarelles, just two kilometers down the road. Here the colors washed away years ago, but left behind were thin, detailed etchings, one overlaid on top of the other. Only eight could go into this cave at a time. The opening was under another rock ledge that naturally restricted access. Once again, our guide carefully led us through the narrow and dark passage with a small flashlight. She turned on isolated lights as we arrived at each area. We stopped along a seemingly nondescript section of wall. As she played the light along the wall, a jumble of delicate lines became visible. It was only with her explanation that we were able to decipher the animals – bison, reindeer, mammoth, horses. Each intricately carved into the stone with lines the width of a pin. A young deer was frozen in time with its head up- stretched eating leaves. A horse still ran with its mane flying. The detail was astounding but the trick was to sort out all the lines. The etchings were literally one on top of the other; there are more than 600 in Combarelles. It takes years of training to see and understand the etchings - particularly without the benefit of the original paint. Our guide was adept at picking out the drawings from a seemingly endless array of lines. Mike remarked that she’d be good at picking out “the Pope's face in the pizza.” He also entertained us with shadow puppets. That’s my guy!

We finished our tour of the caves the following morning at Lascaux II - the Sistine Chapel of prehistoric art. But here’s the thing – small caves could not handle the ventilation needs of loads of tourists. The change in the air damaged the paintings, so much so that the original cave was closed to visitors. A reproduction was constructed – taking 10 years to build and recreate with minute detail. It was the reproduction – Lascaux II – that we visited. The reproduction is beautifully done. This cave is far larger than either Gaume or Combarelles, and the animals are huge! One bull was 5.5 meters from horns to tail. Horses and bulls chased each other across the high ceiling. (There are no hunting scenes in any caves – simply the animals.) The colors were rendered using the same materials as the original and the cave surface is contoured so that the animals take the shape of the rock walls. Again, the art was simply astounding – and yet – somehow, it was different. There was less magic with the large crowd of people and the knowledge that it wasn’t really real. Maybe it would have been different if we hadn’t already been inside the real thing. Like other great works of art, there’s no substitute for the emotion that is transmitted by the original work. Real hearts and minds used real hands on those very walls to communicate their experience of their world for others to feel. It’s what art is.

While the prehistoric artists were the stars of the show, the Dordogne region and towns provided a worthy setting. We had seen the chateaus in the Loire valley but we were unprepared for the chateaus here…and they were around every bend in the river. The only things more numerous than chateaus were walnut trees and foie gras shops. (That's not technically accurate but you know what I mean!) We filled our fist day with a scenic drive through the villages along the Dordogne River. Each village was a part of the rock outcroppings. They were either on top of or built into the side of the rocks. The stone here is a soft golden-yellow color that glowed in the sunlight. The golden houses and shops were roofed with black stones or flat clay tiles weathered to deep grey, and windows were finished with natural wood trim and shutters stained a deep brown. The shallow river flowed lazily by with a gold and grey pebbled bottom visible between the waving green moss. Such a peaceful scene. We spent hours wandering the streets of La Roque, Domme, and Beynac. We drove to the top of Castelnaud where their chateau is perched high above the river with the town tumbling down below it. The town is so steeply perched that one roof top had a sign stating that it was a roof and not a place to sit! No one was around and the only sound was a single leaf blower of an optimistic restaurateur.

We ended that day’s excursion with a visit to Rocamadour. Rocamadour is a spectacularly terraced town built on three levels clinging to a shear cliff. The chateau is on top, the church in the middle with the town at the base and the river far below. It is one of France’s main sights. Maybe it’s just us, but we don’t seem to enjoy the “main sights” so much. Rocamadour is truly spectacular, but while the crowds had lessened, it still felt like the place had lost its sense of self. It is a tourist destination ….only. We saw no evidence of “real” life – no grocery shop, no bar, no local hangout. But there were tons of souvenir shops selling everything and nothing. I’m glad we saw it but we were equally glad to return to our little village for the evening.

Our last day was for exploring the region. This area is known for walnuts, chestnuts, duck, cassoulet, and, of course, foie gras. Walnut groves were spread out along every road with the round green shells ready to break open. But foie gras is the main attraction. There must have been six foie gras shops in our tiny village, and the roads were papered with signs to local foie gras farms. We wanted to learn more about its production. So – we set off in search of a real farm that would give us an education.

It was not to be. With advice from two different tourist offices we tracked down at least four “leads.” With my trusty map in hand, I sent poor Mike, at a moment’s notice, down tiny two-way roads barely wide enough for one. We followed every lead but the closest we came was photographing a few geese. It was (forgive me)….a wild goose chase. We had to settle for a lunch of foie gras prepared a variety of ways, and an Internet search. Nonetheless, we came away with a better understanding of the great pride and history that the French have in this unique specialty. It, too, is an art form.

Finally, our drive home took us through Albi and the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum. Toulouse-Lautrec was born in Albi, and his family donated the work in his studio to the city. The museum was exceptional and I gained a new appreciation for both the artist and his art. Albi is also the home of a stunning cathedral. Mike, having been raised Catholic, always notices the details like the pricing scheme for the candles. Bigger must be better!

We continued to Carcassone for the night - a real treat. Driving up to Carcassone was like stepping back into the Middle Ages. I felt like we needed armor just to enter. Instead, we rolled luggage past the moat, across the draw bridge, and through the cobbled streets of the medieval village. The original walls, chateau and church of Carcassone were restored in the 1800s and they are a marvel. There are two rows of walls that encircle the town. I walked around the city between the walls to view the towers with their narrow slits expecting to see a damsel in distress atop the castle walls. The church features beautiful stained glass in rich, deep colors of blues, reds and golds, and an organ built in 1522. We had an unexpected treat. Shortly after we arrived, five men began singing in .....hmmmm, heavenly harmonies. The music stopped us in our tracks. All we could do was find the closest bench to sit mesmerized. Mike said it was like an ecclesiastical barbershop quintet. We toured the chateau (after a brief delay due to a nationwide strike) and saw the defense systems of that day. There was a murder hole at the entrance gates where boulders could be dropped on invader’s heads – definitely ruining their day. On top of the stone walls, wooden structures allowed invading armies to get close enough to the stone walls to give archers overhead a clear shot from above. This chateau was so well constructed that no one ever tried to invade it. Now, it’s a wonder to see ….and a useful film set (Robin Hood, The Prince of Thieves).


After seeing prehistoric masterpieces, gold-stoned villages, the art of Toulouse-Lautrec, and the mastery of the walls of Carcassone, we returned to Cotignac and our own little work of art – our home away from home.