The Old Diocesan Issue 12 - Magazine - Page 82
EPIC
I always enjoy sharing these
beautiful rock paintings with
the boys during the Bishops
Epic. I believe they help to form
an experience at the very heart of
what the Epic is about: the start of
an appreciation and understanding
of our rich geological, natural
and cultural heritage. In particular,
they learn about the legacy of
the San, descendant of the First
People of our country – indeed,
the first Homo sapiens, ancestors
of modern humans. We are all
Africans by origin, I tell my pupils.
In these paintings, we can begin
to appreciate the aesthetic
dimension and spirituality
in human culture – and their
centrality in education.
I often draw the boys’ attention
to a figure to the right and slightly
above this image of the Cederberg
hunter, his upper body bent back,
his arms flailing in the air – a
shaman participating in a trance
dance. The painting shows him
at the very moment he enters
a trance to draw on supernatural
powers to cure illness, ward off
danger, attract game or conjure
rain. The figure’s almost prone
position is similar to that of
the image of a shaman on the
famous Linton Panel at the Iziko
South African Museum, who is
depicted with hooves instead of
feet, representing a healer taking
on animal form in order to enter
the spirit world – becoming a
therianthrope. The therianthropes
in the San paintings represent
something of a universal human
desire to find the sacred within
ourselves, as well as a yearning
for transformation.
Having foregrounded the
aesthetic dimension, creativity
and spirituality of the rock art,
I like to combine the in-situ lessons
with a more analytical, scientific
discussion of human origins. In
particular, I spend time discussing
78 | THE OLD DIOCESAN
“Between eight and ten thousand years ago, Cederberg people
began drawing images on the rock faces of their shelters – groups
dancing, individuals holding weapons, families walking somewhere
in lines of five, or six, or 38 men, women and children. They drew
animals that they ate, animals that they revered, animals that they
feared. They started before there was any written human history,
long before Sumerians had etched any squiggles in clay. We know
almost nothing about these artists, but their art speaks to us,
echoing down millennia that we can’t begin to grasp – art that
attracts us, that begs for interpretation that we cannot make.
It draws us to it, into it, as it fascinates. There’s an elephant.
This might be a zebra. Look! That man is carrying a bow!”
–Peter Slingsby, Cederberg: The Book
ABOVE The “fine line image” of
a hunter drawing his bowstring.
LEFT Nearby, a shaman is
depicted entering a trance.
RIGHT A similar scene is shown
on the famous Linton Panel
in the Iziko South African
Museum in Cape Town.
