Reading IDS 3336- Assignment #1

Instructions

1. Answer each separately in a specific manner by making specific connections between this week’s assigned readings/ videos and your reflection. Please add in-text reference when necessary.

Reading Questions

1. Why does Ken Robinson believe Art is less valued in our education system than subjects like Math and Science? Do you agree? Why/Why not?
2. Ken Robinson and Csiksentmihalyi talk about (in different ways) the role of the body and movement in facilitating creativity:
   a) What do they specifically say?
   b) Does bodily movement affect creativity in your experience? 
3. Csikszentmihalyi describes some forms of entertainment as keeping us from creativity (bottom of p 348).
   a) What is his argument? Do you agree?
   b) Can forms of entertainment also encourage creativity?
   c) What role does a person’s environment have on creativity?  Give examples.
4. Based on the reading from Spivey, how are imagination, art, and creativity related?
5. Csikszentmihalyi describes a relationship between creativity and the struggle against problems and obstacles:
   a) What does the author specifically say?
   b) Do you agree? Why/Why not?

VIDEO REFERENCES:

READING ATTACHED

C R E A T I V I ТY

Flow and the Psychology of

Discovery and Invention

Míhaly Csikszentmihalyi

£? , a%

H A R P E R P E R E N N I A L

johapere
Underline

3 4 2

C r e a t i v i t y

a cell’s behavior, or a way to make better microchips for less money ‘
an exhilarating experience in its own right, even if no one e’;;
knows about it, and no rewards follow. Almost аД of our responden
spoke eloquently and spontaneously about the importance of thes’
intrinsic rewards. If they did not feel this joy, external rewards woul
not have been sufficient to motivate them to extend their efforts int;;

uncharted regions. –
But whereas experts in a discipline usually Love what they do, this

emotion is generally not available to students or young practitioners
Especially in the sciences, beginners see only the drudgery of the dis­
cipline. Teachers rarely spend time trying to reveal the beauty an ,
the fun of doing math or science; students learn that these subjects
are ruled by grim determinism instead of the freedom and adventu-‘
that the experts experience. Not surprisingly, it is difficult to motil
vate young people to master aspects of the culture that seem cold an*
alienating. As a result, knowledge in these areas might become

eroded and creativity increasingly rare. i
So one obvious way to enhance creativity is to bring as much ás

possible of the flow experience into the various domains. It is exhila
rating to build culture—to be an artist, a scientist, a thinker, or á
doer. AU too often, however, the joy of discovery fails to be commu-V
nicated to young people, who turn instead to passive entertainment
But consuming culture is never as rewarding as producing it. If’
were only possible to transmit the excitement of the people we inter
viewed to the next generation, there is no doubt that creativi

would blossom.

F O U R T E E N

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l

C r e a t i v i t y

Г he major purpose of this book was to describe how creativity
works, how culture evolves as domains are transformed by the
çuriosity and dedication of a few individuals. But another goal was to

learn, from the lives of such men and women, how everyone’s life
eould be made more creative. How can our days, too, be filled with
¿wonder and excitement? To answer this question I move from objec­
tive description to prescription. I present my own reflections on
•what we have learned so far and try to derive from it some practical
¿advice. Just as a physician may look at the physical habits of the most
healthy individuals to find in them a prescription that will help

everyone else to be more healthy, so we may extract some useful
¿ideas from the lives of a few creative persons about how to enrich the
jives of everyone else.
į You probably already have formed some ideas about how to experi­
ence life more creatively. At the very least, you have learned about the

obstacles that creative individuals have to surmount and the strategies

»they use to increase the likelihood that they will accomplish original
.¿work. In this chapter I will distill these insights and present them as
¿explicit suggestions for how to apply them to everyday life.

3 4 4 C R E A T I V I T Y

These suggestions hold no promise for great creative achievement;’
As is clear by now, to move from personal to cultural Creativity otr
needs talent, training, and an enormous dose of good luck. Withou’
access to a domain, and without the support of a field, a person has*
no chance of recognition. Even though personal creativity may no*’
lead to fame and fortune, it can do something that from the individf
ual’s point of view is even more important: make day-to-day experi-:
enees more vivid, more enjoyable, more rewarding. When we live>
creatively, boredom is banished and every moment holds the promise
of a fresh discovery. Whether or not these discoveries enrich the/
world beyond our personal lives, living creatively links us with they

process of evolution.
Most of the suggestions derived from the study of creative lives can:

be implemented by anybody regardless of age, gender, or social con­
dition. Some of the steps, however, are more appropriate to parents ■
or other adults who want to provide, optimal conditions for develop-į
ing the creativity of children. We cannot change conditions in our/
own childhood that would make us more curious and hence enhance;
creativity; but we can change conditions for the next generation.1
Instead of pointing out each time which suggestions are for adults, .;
and which for children, I trust the reader’s judgment to make the

appropriate distinctions.
I am assuming that each person has, potentially, all the psychic ;

energy he or she needs to lead a creative life. However, there are/
four major sets of obstacles that prevent many from expressing this ?
potential. Some of us are exhausted by too many demands, and so··;
have trouble getting hold of and activating our psychic energy in
the first place. Or we get easily distracted and have trouble learn­
ing how to protect and channel whatever energy we have. The:
next problem is laziness, or lacking discipline for controlling the
flow of energy. And finally, the last obstacle is not knowing what
to do with the energy one has. How to avoid these obstacles and
liberate the creative energy we all have is what I review in this

chapter.

The Acquisition op Creative Energy

With our present knowledge, even an expert neuroanatomist could
not tell Einstein s brain from yours or mine. In terms of the capacity

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 4 5

pi processing information, all brains are extremely alike. The limits
©n how many bits of information we can process at any given time
-e also similar. Nor is the speed of information processing noticeably

Jlifferent from one brain to the next. In principle, because of the
similarity in cerebral hardware, most people could share the same

Knowledge and perform mental operations at similar levels. Yet what
Enormous differences there are in how people think and what they
.think about!

In terms of using mental energy creatively, perhaps the most fun-
(damental difference between people consists in how much uncom­
mitted attention they have left over to deal with novelty. In too many
; cases, attention is restricted by external necessity. We cannot expect a
/man who works two jobs, or a working woman with children, to
/have much mental energy left over to lèàhTâMoTKâiíC leť áloñemñb-
; vate in it. Einstein is supposed to have written his classic papers on
‘.die kitchen table of his small apartment in Berne, while rocking the
‘pram of his baby. But the fact is that there are real limits to how
-many things a person can attend to at the same time, and when sun­
yival needs require all of one’s attention, none is left over for being
creative.

; But often the obstacles are internal. In a person concerned with
protecting his or her self, practically all the attention is invested in
►monitoring threats to the ego. This defensiveness may have very
/understandable causes: Children who have been abused or who have

experienced chronic hunger or discrimination are less likely to be
.curious and interested in novelty for its own sake, because they need
all the psychic energy they have simply to survive. Taken to the

¿extreme, a sense of being too vulnerable results in the form of neuro­
ns known as paranoia, where everything that happens is interpreted
jas a threatening conspiracy against the self. A paranoid tendency is

■pne obstacle to the free deployment of mental energy. The person

who suffers from it usually cannot afford to become interested in the
¡world from an objective, impartial viewpoint, and therefore is unable
to learn much that is new.

Another limitation on the free use of mental energy is an exces­
sive investment of attention in selfish goals. Of course, we all must
ifirst and foremost take care of our own needs. But for some people
îthe concept of “need” is inflated to the point that it becomes an
(obsession that devours every waking moment. When everything a

3 4 6 C r e a t i v i t y

person sees, thinks, or does must serve self-interest, there is
attention left over to learn about anything else.

It is difficult to approach the world creatively when one is hungt
v or shivering from cold, because then all of one’s mental energy v:

focused on securing the necessities one lacks. And it is equally diffif
cult when a person is rich and famous but devotes all of his or h-
energies to getting more money and fame. To free up creative ener
we need to let go and divert some attention from the pursuit of th:
predictable goals that genes and memes have programmed in ош
minds and use it instead to explore the world around us on its own

terms. ■■■’*
■■’4

Curiosity and. Interest
So the first step toward a more creative life is the cultivation о
curiosity and interest, that is, the allocation of attention to things
for their own sake. On this score, children tend to have the advari¿
tage over adults; their curiosity is like a constant beam that high
lights and invests with interest anything within range. The obje:;
need not be useful, attractive, or precious; as long as it is mysteri ‘
ous it is worthy of attention. With age most of us lose the sense ò*
wonder, the feeling of awe in confronting the majesty and variety,
of the world. Yet without awe life becomes routine. Creative indi;’
viduals are childlike in that their curiosity remains fresh even
ninety years of age; they delight in the strange and the unknownî
And because there is no end to the unknown, their delight also ’

endless. /
At first, curiosity is diffiise and generic. The child’s attention *

attracted to any novelty—cloud or bug, grandfather’s cough or ‘
rusted nail. With time, interest usually becomes channeled into

specific domain. A ninety-year-old physicist may retain childho-
curiosity in the realm of subatomic particles but is unlikely to haw

enough free attention left over to marvel at much eke. Therefo”
creativity within a domain often goes hand in hand with conformi

in the rest of life. Einstein at the peak of his breakthroughs Li
physics played traditional music on his violin. But narrowing atten,
tion to a single domain does not mean limiting the novelty one ^

able to process; on the contrary, complex domains like poetry, his

tory, physics, or politics reveal constantly expanding perspectives t
those who venture to explore them.

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 4 7

if So how can interest and curiosity be cultivated, assuming that you
feel the desire to do so? Some specific advice may help.

.i/V

Ţry to be surprised by something every day. It could be something you
.ree, hear, or read about. Stop to look at_the..unusual car parked at
the curb, taste the new item on the cafeteria menu, actually listen
lo your colleague at the office. How is this different from other
.’milar cars, dishes, or conversations? What is its essence? Don’t

‘assume that you already know what these things are all about, or
that even if you knew them, they wouldn’t matter anyway. Experi­
ence this one thing for what it is, not what you think it is. Be open
,to what the world is telling you. Life is nothing more than a stream
hf experiences—the more widely and deeply you swim in it, the
richer your life wifi be.

Try to surprise at least one person every day. Instead of being your pre­
dictable self, say something unexpected, express an opinion that you

ave not dared to reveal, ask a question you wouldn’t ordinarily ask.
break the routine of your activities: Invite a person to go with

;ou to a show, a restaurant, or a museum that you never visited
efore. Experiment with your appearance. Comfortable routines are
,reat when they save energy for doing what you really care about;
ut if you are still searching, they restrict and limit the future.

‘ľ:rite doum each day what surprised you and how you surprised others.
fost creative people keep a diary, or notes, or lab records to. make

Leir experiences more concrete and enduring. If you don’t do so
Iready, it might help to start with a very specific task: to record each
vening the most surprising event that happened that day and your

‘ ost surprising action. This is a simple enough assignment and one
“u will find is fun to do. After a few days, you can reread what you
-ve written and reflect on those past experiences. One of the surest

|rays to enrich life is to make experiences less fleeting, so that the
pst memorable, interesting, and important events are not lost for­

mer a few hours after they occurred. Writing them down so that you
an relive them in recollection is one way to keep them from disap­
pearing. And after a few weeks, you may begin to see a pattern of
-terest emerging in the notes, one that may indicate some domain
-t would repay exploring in depth.

3 4 8 C r e a t i v i t y

When something strikes a spark of interest, follow it. Usually, wir
something captures our attention·—-an idea, a song, a flower—
impression is brief. We are too busy to explore the idea, song, ;
flower further. Or we feel that it is none of our business. After all,
are not thinkers, singers, or botanists, so these things lie outside о/
grasp. Of course, that’s nonsense. The world is our business, and ..’
can’t know which part of it is best suited to our selves, to our poten
tialities, unless we make a serious effort to learn about as man*

aspects of it as possible.
If you take time to reflect on how best to implement these fo

suggestions, and then actually start putting them into effect, yo’
should feel a stirring of possibilities under the accustomed surface о

daily experiences. It is the gathering of creative energy, the rebirth о

curiosity that has been atrophied since childhood.

Cultivating Flow in Everyday life
The rebirth of curiosity doesn’t last long, however, unless we lear
to enjoy being curious. Entropy, the force behind the famous Sec­
ond Law of Thermodynamics, applies not only to physical systems
but to the functioning of the mind as well. When there is nothing-
specific to do, our thoughts soon return to the most predictable
state, which is randomness or confusion. We pay attention and coos
centrate when we must—when dressing, driving the car, stayiir
awake at work. But when there is no external force demanding that
we concentrate, the mind begins to lose focus. It falls to the lowest
energetic state, where the least amount of effort is required. Whe-‘
this happens, a sort of mental chaos takes over. Unpleasant though;/
flash into awareness, forgotten regrets resurface, and we beconri
depressed. Then we turn on the TV set, read listlessly the advertis-;
ing supplement of the newspaper, have pointless” conversations—-
anything to keep our thoughts on an even keel and avoid becoming;
frightened by what is happening in the mind. Taking refuge in pas4
sive entertainment keeps chaos temporarily at bay, but the attention
it absorbs gets wasted. On the other hand, when we learn to enjoy,
using our latent creative energy so that it generates its own internal,
force to keep concentration focused, we not only avoid depression
but also increase the complexity of our capacities to relate to the’

world. 1
How can we do this? How can we relearn to enjoy curiosity so

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a e ‘ G r e a t j – v i t y — – 3 4 9 – — — ; ■ ·

-t the pursuit of new experiences and new knowledge becomes
“-sustaining?

7ake up in the morning with a specific goal to look forward to. Creative
¡chviduals don’t have to be dragged out of bed; they are eager to

the day. This is not because they are cheerful, enthusiastic types,
¡or. do they necessarily have something exciting to do. But they
‘!eve that there is something meaningful to accomplish each day,
d they can’t wait to get started on it.
Most of us don’t feel our actions are that meaningful. Yet everyone
– discover at least one thing every day that is worth waking up for.
could be meeting a certain person, shopping for a special item,
tting a plant, cleaning the office desk, writing a letter, trying on a

sy/ dress. It is easier if each night before falling asleep, you review
e next day and choose a particular task that, compared to the rest
/the day, should be relatively interesting and exciting. Then next
~rning, open your eyes and visualize the chosen event—play it out
efly in your mind, like an inner videotape, until you can hardly
;t to get dressed and get going. It does not matter if at first the
als are trivial and not that interesting. The important thing is to

the easy first steps until you master the habit, and then” slowly
rk up to more complex goals. Eventually most of the day should

nsist of tasks you look forward, to, until you feel that getting up in
e morning is a privilege, not a chore.

you do anything well, it becomes enjoyable. Whether writing a poem
.cleaning the house, running a scientific experiment or a race, the

i ality of experience tends to improve in proportion to the effort
•ested in it. The runner may be exhausted and aching, yet she also

exhilarated if she is putting all her strength into the race. The more
vities that we do with excellence and style, the more of life
omes intrinsically rewarding.

The conditions that make flow possible suggest how to transform
ryday activities so that they are more enjoyable. Having clear goals

” expectations for whatever we do, paying attention to the conse-
nces of our actions, adjusting skills to the opportunities for action

die environment, concentrating on the task at hand without dis-
tions—these are the simple rules that can make the difference
veen an unpleasant and an enjoyable experience. If I decide to

3 5 0 . C r e a t i v i t y

learn to play the piano or speak a foreign language but feel frustrate
or bored doing so, the chances are that I will give up at the firi
opportunity. But if I apply the flow conditions to the learning tas1′
then it is likely that I will continue to expand my creative potenti*

because doing so is fun. S
It is easier to start with the most mundane activities all of us ha**

to take care of. How can you get more enjoyment from brushin
your teeth? Taking a shower? Dressing? Eating breakfast? Getting
work? Take the simplest of these routines and experiment with engi­
neering its flow potential. How do you apply flow conditions t
loading the dishwasher? If you take this question seriously and try
answer by testing various alternatives, you will be surprised at ho
much fun brushing teeth can be. It will never be as enjoyable as ski­
ing or playing in a string quartet, but it might beat watching mat
television programs. f

After you have practiced improving the quality of experience in
few everyday activities, you might feel ready to tackle somethin
more difficult—such as a hobby or a new interest. Eventually yo
will master the most important skill of all, the metaskill that cons: ”
in being able to turn any activity into an occasion of flow. If th
autotelic metaskill is developed enough, you should be able to enjo
any new challenge and be on the way to the self-sustaining ch·’

reaction of creativity.

To keep enjoying something, you need to increase its complexity. A
Herodotus remarked, we cannot step in the same river twice. No
can you enjoy the same activity over and over, unless you disco

v

new challenges, new opportunities in it. Otherwise it becomes bo$
ing. Brushing teeth cannot stay enjoyable for very long—it’s an activ ,
ity that just does not have enough potential for complexity. True
one can preserve the challenge of even the simplest activity by сощ?
bining it with something else—for instance, while brushing tee-1

you might plan the coming day or reflect on what happened yester­
day. But generally it is more satisfying to become involved in activi-‘
ties that are inexhaustible—music, poetry, carpentry, computers, gat;;
dening, philosophy, or deep personal relationships.

Most domains are so complex that they cannot be exhausted in ‘
lifetime, not even the lifetime of the human race. It is always possibl-
to learn a new song, or to write one. It is always possible to .find

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 5 1

tter way to do anything. That is why creativity—the attempt to
~*and the boundaries of a domain—makes a lifetime of enjoyment
ossible. – – –

abits of Strength

frer creative energy is awakened, it is necessary to protect it. We
;ust erect barriers against distractions, dig channels so that energy
n flow more freely, find ways to escape outside temptations and
’ erruptions. If we do not, entropy is sure to break down the con-

’:ntration that the pursuit of an interest requires. Then thought
pirns to its baseline state—the vague, unfocused, constantly dis-
Icted condition of the normal mind.
|It is often surprising to hear extremely successful, productive peo-
le claim that they are basically lazy. Yet thenrlami is believable; It is
ot that they have more energy and discipline than you or I; but they
p develop habits of discipline that allow them to accomplish seem-
-gly impossible tasks. These habits are often so trivial that the peo-

who practice them seem strange and obsessive. At first many peo-
i1e were mildly shocked that the great Alfred Einstein always wore
’’*e same old sweater and baggy trousers. Why was he being so
;eird? Of course, Einstein wasn’t trying, to upset anybody. He was

tist cutting down on the daily effort involved in deciding what
iothes to wear, so that his mind could focus on matters that to him
:ere more important. It may seem that choosing slacks and shirts

‘kes so little time that it is pretentious to worry about it. But súp­
ose it takes only two minutes each day to decide how to dress. That
äds up to 730 minutes, or twelve hours a year. Now think of the
ther repetitive things we have to do throughout the day—comb
‘air, drive cars, eat, and so on. And then think not only of the time

takes to do each of these things but of the interruption in the train
f thought they cause, both before and after. Having to choose a tie
uld derail a whole hour’s worth of reflection! No wonder Einstein

referred to play it safe and wear the same old clothes.
• At this point, some readers may smell a contradiction. On the one

d I am saying that to be creative you should be open to experi-
*e, focus on even the most mundane tasks—like brushing teeth—

make them more efficient and artistic. On the other hand I am

ng that you should conserve creative energy by routinizing as

ch of everyday life as possible so that you can focus entirely on

3 5 2 C r e a t i v i t y

what really matters. Isn’t this contradictory advice? Not really—b’
even if it were, you should by now expect a certain amount of p’

dox in creative behavior.
The reason it is not a contradiction to be open and focused at dr

same time is that these contrary ways of using psychic energy share ‘
similarity that is more important than their differences. They requr
you to decide whether at this point it is better to be open or to b ‘
focused. They are both expressions of your ability to control atten?
don, and it is this, not whether you are open or focused, that mac
ters. Before you have discovered an overriding interest in a particula’
domain, it makes sense to be open to as much of the world as possi*
ble. Affér you have developed an abiding interest, however, it may
make more sense to save as much energy as you can to invest in that;
one domain. In either case, what is important is not to relinquish
control over creative energy so that it dissipates without.direction.

A few more words may be needed here concerning the concept о
“control” as applied to attention. It should be realized that one waţ
of controlling is to relinquish control. People who meditate expan
their being by letting go of focused thought. This way they aim t
achieve a spiritual union with foe energy behind the world o.
appearances, the force that drives the universe. But this way of givirf
up control is itself directed, controlled by the mind. It is very differ?·:
ent from just sitting and gossiping, passively consuming entertain*

ment, or letting the mind wander without purpose.
“What can you do to build up habits that will make it possible ter,

control attention so that it can be open and receptive, or focused and!
directed, depending on what your overall goals require? Щ

Take charge of your schedule. Out circadian rhythms are to a large!
extent controlled by outside factors’: the rising sun, the commuted
train schedule, a job’s deadline, lunchtime, a client’s needs. If it workŞ
for you, it makes perfect sense to abandon yourself to these markers?
so that you don’t have to decide what to do when. But it is also pos-Į
sible that the schedule you are following is not foe best for your pur-|
poses. The best time for using your creative energies could be early!
in the morning or late at night. Can you carve out some time foil
yourself when your energy is most efficient? Can you fit sleep tal
your purpose, instead of the other way around? 4

The times when most people eat may not be the best for you. You|

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 5 3

ght get hungry earlier than lunchtime and lose concentration
cause you feel jittery; or to perform at the top of your potential it
;y be best to skip lunch and have a midafternoon snack instead,
ere are probably best times to shop, to visit, to work, to relax for

‘h one of us; the more we do things at the most suitable times, the
-re creative energy we can free up. ^

‘Most of us have never had the chance to discover which parts of
e day or night are most suited, to our rhythms. To regain this

towledge we have to pay attention to how well the schedule we

Low fits our inner states—when we feel best eating, sleeping,
rking, and so forth. Once we have identified the ideal patterns,

;e can begin the task of changing things around so that we can do
;ngs when it is most suitable. Of course, most of us have inflexible
mands on our day that cannot be changed. Even John Reed has to

ep to an office schedule, and Vera Rubin has to adapt her curiosity

times when telescopes are available for observation. The needs of
ildren, spouses, and bosses must often take precedence. Yet time is
ore flexible than most of us think.
.The important thing to remember is that creative energy, like any

er form of psychic energy, only works over time. It takes a certain
inimum amount of time to write a sonnet or to invent a new
chine. People vary in the speed they work—Mozart wrote con-
d much faster than Beethoven did—but even Mozart could not

cape the tyranny of time. Therefore, every hour saved from
dgery and routine is an hour added to creativity.

rake time for reflection and relaxation. Many people, especially those
ho are successful and responsible, take the image of the “rat race”
-ously and feel uncomfortable, even anxious, if they are not busily

¿work. Even at home, they feel they must be always cleaning,
rking in the yard, or fixing things. Keeping constantly busy is

inmendable and certainly much better than just lounging around

eling sorry for yourself. But constant busyness is not a good pre-
option for creativity. It is important to schedule times in the day,
e week, and the year just to take stock of your life and review what
u have accomplished and what remains to be done.
These are times when you should not expect any task to be done,
у decision to be reached. You should just indulge in the luxury of
flection for its own sake. “Whether you intend it or not, new ideas

\

3 5 4 C r e a t i v i t y

and conclusions will emerge in your consciousness anyway—and th
less you try to direct the process the more creative they are likely
be. It may be best to combine these periods of reflection with sorfi
other task that requires a certain amount of attention, but not all ­
it. Preferably this should involve some physical or kinesthetic comp:

nent. Typical activities that facilitate subconscious creative process ‘
are walking, showering, swimming, driving, gardening, weaving, ац

carpentry. ,(
Neither constant stress nor monotony is a very good context ft

creativity. You should alternate stress with periods of relaxation. В
remember that the best relaxation is not doing nothing. It usual!
involves doing something very different from your usual tasks. Soia
of the most demanding activities like rock climbing, skiing, or sky­
diving are relaxing to people who have desk jobs because they pro
vide opportunities for deep involvement with experiences that
completely different from the usual.

Learning to control one’s sleep patterns can also be very impOf
tant. Some very effective businesspeople and politicians pride theni
shelves on sleeping very few hours each night, and they claim th*
short sleep makes them feel more energetic and decisive. But creati*;
individuals usually sleep longer and claim that if they cut down ö;
sleeptime the originality of their ideas suffers. It is impossible
come up with a single amount that is ideal for everyone. Like every*
thing else, the important thing is to find the length of time that b*
fits your own requirements. And don’t feel guilty if you sleep a fc.
hours more than is considered normal. What you lose in wakiri
time wifi probably be made up in terms of the quality of experieir
while you are awake. ·

Shape your space. We saw in chapter 6 that surroundings can have
influence on the creative process. Again, it is not what the enviro
ment is like that matters, but the extent to which you are in
mony with it.

At the macro level, the question may be whether you feel yö
would be happiest if living at the seashore, surrounded by mountai
or plains, or in the bustle of a big city. Do you like the change of se
sons? Do you hate snow? Some people are physically affected by Ion
sunless periods. There can be many reasons why you might fr‘
trapped in the place you live, without a choice to move. But it’s;

\

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t T v i t y 3~55‘………………………………..

at waste to spend your entire life in uncongenial surroundings,
e of the first steps in implementing creativity at the personal level
о review your options of life contexts and then start thinking

put strategies for making the best choice come true.
At the midlevel, determine what sort of community you want to
‘ roots in. Every city and rural area have neighborhoods that are

‘¿flfied in terms of price, centrality, type of activities available, and
•forth. As with everything else, we are limited in the choice of
*;cdy where to live—very few can afford to live near the Pebble

“ach golf course in California, the Lionshead ski run in Vail, Col­
ado, or on Park Avenue in Manhattan. But even as redundant
using developments are slowly swallowing the landscape, there is

‘” much choice left of where one can live, more than most of us

re to exercise. And it is important to live in a place that does not
¡ė up a lot of potential energy either by lulling the senses into com-
;cency or by forcing us to fight against an intolerable environment.
|At the micro level the choices are much more readily available to

Vyone. We all can decide what kind of environment to create in

^ home. As long as there is a roof overhead even the poorest
-png us can organize space and collect things that are meaningful

’J conducive to the use of creative energies.
■The house of a Hindu Brahman or a traditional Japanese family is
-ęly to be bare of almost all furniture and decoration. The idea is to

pvide a neutral environment that does not disturb the flow of con-
pusness with distractions. At the other extreme, a Victorian home

“ts with dark, heavy furniture and knickknacks. In this case, the
»jner’s sense of control is bolstered by lavish possessions. Which is

è best way to go? Obviously none of these environments is better
:an absolute sense. What counts is which solution allows you to use
ention most effectively. It is easy to find out which microenviron-
ęnt best fits your self: Try different kinds and pay attention to your
“lings and reactions.
■Another way space can help creativity is by following the maxim
4 place for everything, and everything in its place.” Developing a

‘tine for storing such things as car keys and eyeglasses repays itself
~re than a hundredfold in time saved. If you know your home and

’’се so well that you can find anything even if blindfolded, your
“įn of thought need not be continuously interrupted to look for
iriething. This doesn’t mean that your desk or living room should

3 5 6 C r e a t i v i t y

always be neat. In fact, the work space of creative individuals is o j

messy and it tends to put off more ordered souls. The importar
thing is that they know where everything is, so they can work wřL’
out too much distraction. Many can find papers and organize the;’
work better when their desk is covered with clutter than when thin1′
are properly filed away. But if a clean desk makes you feel and wor
better, then by all means keep it clean.

The kind of objects you fill your space with also either help ó
hinder the allocation of creative energies. Cherished objects remiri
us of our goals, make us feel more conñdent, and focus our atten
don. Trophies, diplomas, favorite books, and family pictures on th
office desk are all reminders of who you are, what you have accom­
plished, and therefore what you are likely to achieve. Pictures an
maps of places you would like to visit and books about things yo
might like to learn more about áre signposts of what you might do * ;

the future.
And then there are the objects that we carry and that help create ”

personalized, portable psychic space. In most traditional societr1

people always took along a few special objecte that were supposed ť ‘
increase the power of the owner. This “medicine bundle,” or tališ’
man, might include the claws of a bear killed in the hunt, soni
clamshells found on the beach, or some herbs that revived the weare
from a difficult illness. Having these objects hanging from one’s nee’
provided a feeling of strength and identity: We also tend to keep ‘ ‘
our purses and wallets items that represent our self and its values. Pic
tures of our children, friends’ addresses, a book or movie tide seri’
bled on a napkin—these all remind us of who we are and what w
like. Choosing carefully what to carry with us makes it easier to b
comfortable with ourselves and therefore to use psychic energy eSec

rively when the opportunity arises.
Another space that is important to personalize is our car. Cars hav

become important extensions of the self; for many people, the car ‘
more like a casde than the home is. It’s in the car that they feel mos
free, most secure, most powerful. It is where they can think with tir
greatest concentration, solve problems most efficiendy, and come u
with the most creative ideas. That is why it is so difficult to get peo;
pie to use public transportadon instead of their cars. Of course, it1

possible that in the near future cars will be as obsolete as eating be
and for the same reason—shortage of fuel. In the meantime, how

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 5 7

■ г, it makes sense to learn to use one’s vehicle in the way that is

ost conducive to the environment as well as to the expression of
native potential.

ïind out what you like and what you hate about life. It is astonishing
ow litde most people know about their feelings. There are people
’ho can’t even tell if they are ever happy, and if they are, when or
here. Their lives pass by as a featureless stream of experience, a
ing of events barely perceived in a fog of indifference. As opposed
this state of chronic apathy, creative individuals are in very dose

~uch with their emotions. They always know the reason for what
1 ey are doing, and they are very sensitive to pain, to boredom, to
?~y, to interest, and to other emotions—They- are -very-quick to pack-
p and leave if they are bored and to get involved if they are inter­
red. And because they have practiced this skill for a long time, they
eed to invest no psychic energy in self-monitoring; they are aware
f their inner states without having to become self-conscious.

How can you learn the dynamics of your emotions? The first
—g is to keep a careful record of what you did each day and how

–u felt about it. This is what the Experience Sampling Method
ccomplishes—pagers are programmed to signal you at random times

during the day, and then you fill out a short questionnaire. It is possi­
le, after a week, to have a good idea of how you spend your time
~d how you feel about various activities. But you don’t need an

4 borate experiment to find out how you feel. Be creative and
-vent your own method of self-analysis. The basis of ancient Greek

hilosophy was the injunction to know thyself. The first step toward
‘elf-knowledge involves having a clear idea of what you spend your
fe doing and how you feel while doing it.
f·

‘tart doing more of what you love, less of what you hate. After a few
veeks of self-monitoring, sit down with your diary or your notes
-d begin to analyze them. Again, it takes some .. creativity, but it
’ ould not be very difficult to draw out the main patterns, of daily
fe. It’s not more convoluted than planning comparison shopping or

tudying stock market graphs. And it is so much more important in
ė long run.

You may find that, contrary to what you had thought, the few
mes you were with your spouse during the week you had great

3 5 8 C r e a t i v i t y

conversations and felt relaxed. That at work, despite stress and hassles
you felt better about yourself than when watching television. O“
conversely, that most of the time when you were at work you fe’
listless and bored. “Why were you so irritated with your children? S~
impatient with the people you work with? So cheerful when walkin ”
down the street?

You may never find out the deep reasons that answer these ques­
tions. Perhaps there are no deep reasons.. The point is that once yò
know what your daily life is like and how you experience it, it is easf
ier to begin getting control over it. Perhaps the pattern of feeling1

shows that you should change your job—or learn to bring more flow
to it. Or that you should be outdoors more often, or find ways to d;
some more interesting things with your children. The importan*1

thing is to make sure that you spend your psychic energy in such , ,
way that it brings back the highest returns in terms of the quality q
experience.

The only way to stay creative is to oppose the wear and tear
existence with techniques that organize time, space, and activity
your advantage. It means developing schedules to protect your tirrr’
and avoid distraction, arranging your surroundings to heighten con .
centration, cutting out meaningless chores that soak up psychi;
energy, and devoting the energy thus saved to what you really car1

about. It is much easier to be personally creative when you maxiroiz;
optimal experiences in everyday life.

‘fį.

Internal Traits ă

The next step, after learning to liberate the creative energy of won^
der and awe, and then learning to protect it by managing time, space,
and activity, is to internalize as many of these supporting structures
into your personality as possible. We can think of personality as «į
habitual way of thinking, feeling, and acting, as the more or less*
unique pattern by which we use psychic energy or attention. Sony*
traits are more likely than others to result in personal creativity. Is im­
possible to reshape personality to make it more creative?

It is difficult for adults to change personalities. Some of the habits;
that form personality are based on temperament, or the particular^
genetic inheritance that makes one person very shy, or aggressive, or
distractible. Temperament then interacts with social environment-^

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 5 9

ts, family, friends, teachers—and some habits are strengthened,
’ ers weakened or repressed. By the time we are out of our teens,

jmy of these habits are strongly set, and it is difficult to invest atten-
on—to think, feel, or act—in any other way than what our traits
~w.

lit is difficult, but it is not impossible. Strangely” m our culture we
v-nd billions of dollars trying to improve our looks, but we take a
glistic attitude toward our personal traits—as if it was beyond our

bilities to change them. If all the energy expended on dieting, cos-
-etics, and dressing up were turned to other uses, we could easily
:lve the material problems of the world. Yet most of that energy is
-*ted because how we look, or how much we weigh, is more diffi­
di to change because it is more dependent on genetic instructions
an are personality traits. And, of course, improving who we are is a

i-eat deal more important than improving how we look.
’Ίο change personality means to learn new patterns of attention,

p look at different things, and to look at them differently; to learn

think new thoughts, have new feelings about what we experience,
hn Gardner was by temperament extremely introverted. He was

y and retiring, undemonstrative and unemotional. This worked
•ell for him up to a certain point, but when in his forties he became
” foundation officer he realized that he was intimidating the appli-
änts who were coming to ask him for support. As they described
;eir projects, they were hoping to get some reaction, some signal

m him, and all they got was noncommittal silence.
.»At that point he decided to become more extroverted. He forced

himself to smile, to make small talk, to show some vulnerability in
pnversation. It wasn’t easy to change these deeply ingrained habits,

t every little success made him a much more effective leader and
pmmunicator—the domains in which his creativity eventually

erted itself most strongly. He never became an out-and-out extro­
vert, but he now impresses an interlocutor as warm and caring—

‘ hich was always potentially a part of his personality, but he had
pen unable to show it.
I If we go through life with habits that are very rigid, or inappropri­
ée to the kind of job we do, the creative energy gets dammed up or

pasted. Thus it helps to consider how to apply what we learned
about the personalities of creative individuals to the traits that may be
useful in everyday life.

3 6 0 C r e a t i v i t y

Develop what you lack. All of us end up specializing in some
which usually means that we neglect traits that are complementary
the ones we developed. For example, if someone learns to be v~_
competitive, he or she probably has a hard time cooperating; an i-·
itive, subjective person usually ends up mistrusting objectivity.
though Aristode figured out twenty-five centuries ago that virr
consists in the golden mean between such opposite traits as cour
and prudence, we still take the easy way out, which is to be’ o;

dimensional.
As we know, creative individuals tend to be exceptions to this rut

In chapter 3 I presented the ten main dialectic poles that descri
their personality. The point here is that everyone can strengthen
missing end of the polarity. When an extrovert learns to experien
the world like an introvert, or vice versa, it is as if he or she disc~.
ered a whole missing dimension to the world. The same happens if
very feminine person learns to act in what we consider a masculin
manner. Or if an objective, analytic person decides to trust intuiti
for a change. In all of these cases, a new realm of experience ope t

up in front of us, which means that in effect we double and dr
double again the content of life.

To start, it makes sense to identify your most obvious character·”
tic, the one that your friends would use to describe you—such ; ”
“reckless” or “stingy” or “intellectual.” If you don’t trust your от*,
assessment, you can ask a friend to help. When you have identified^
central trait, you can begin to try its opposite. If you are basically
reckless, take a future project, or relationship, and instead of rushih
into it plan your moves carefully and patiently. If you are sting
splurge. If you are an intellectual, get someone to explain to you w
football is such a great sport and try watching a ball game in light –
this knowledge. Keep exploring what it takes to be the opposite о
who you are.

At first it won’t be easy and will seem like a waste of time. Whr

try to save money when you enjoy being spendthrift? Why trus
intuition when you are so comfortable being a rational person
Breaking habits is a little like breaking your own bones. What shoul
keep you trying is the knowledge that by experiencing the wori.
from a very different perspective, you will enrich your life consider

ably.

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y ‘ 3 6 1

Ift often ftom openness to closure. Perhaps the most important duality
‘creative persons are able to integrate is being open and receptive

j^e one hand, and focused and hard-driving on the other. Good
tists, like good artists, must let their minds roam playfully or

– will not discover new facts, new patterns, new relationships. At
same time, they must ako be able to evaluate critically every nov-
jthey encounter, forget immediately the spurious ones, and then
“entrate their minds on developing and realizing the few that are

‘mising.

ecause this is such a central trait, it is particularly important to
price it. Take some task you often do at your job—for instance,
‘Iting a weekly report on a project you are involved in. Start with
;xmg your mind; look out the window if you can, or let your eyes
‘m unfocused over the desk and the office. Now try to grasp what

most important issues about the project. Grasp not only intel-
ly but also at a gut level, emotionally. ‘What’s really important?

…ŕt gives you a good feeling about it? What scares you? Or try to
; images in your mind, like scenes in a film. Picture the people
ived in the project. What are .they doing? What” are they saying

pach other?

ien start jotting down some words on a pad, or on the com-
‘. Any word that comes to mind concerning your feelings about

project or the movie in your mind. Words that describe facts, or
■, or persons. When you have a few words down, see if you can

them together into a story—it should not be too difficult. The
you glimpse at this stage represents your strongest feelings about
is happening on the project.

is at this point that the emphasis might shift from openness to
cipline. Begin to choose words carefully, keeping in mind the
als of your department, division, or the corporation as a whole, as
-11 as the interests, tastes, and prejudices of the bosses who will read
e report. You want to be effective and convincing. So muster all
ur skills to write a report that conveys your beliefs as clearly and
ccinctly as possible. If you manage to be intuitively receptive at the

ginning, and rationally critical later on, the report will be consid-
:Ыу more creative than if you relied exclusively on one of these

«•egies.
[Shifting from one of these poles to the other is important ako in

v

3 6 2 C r e a t i v i t y

relationships—between friends, spouses, or parents and children. F
a relationship to work, it is essential to listen to the other person,·
try to imagine why she says what she says, what she feels, how .s’*
sees the world. It is essential to change perspectives when necess*
to compromise, to understand the world and to act different’
because this is what the other person’s reality requires. Yet it is jus*
important to remain in touch with our own beließ and perspectiv*
In a relationship we should be able to shift moment by moment fro’
our own viewpoint to that of the other. We can see depth oní
because looking with two eyes gives us slightly different perspective
How much deeper can we see when instead of two eyes we rely о
four! This dual vision again doubles the riches of the world we exp*/
rience and makes it possible to react creatively to it.

Aim for complexity. The ability to move from one trait to its oppositr
is part of the more general condition of psychic complexity. Com
plexity is a feature of every system, from the simplest amoeba to th
most sophisticated human culture. When we say that something
complex we mean that it is a very differentiated system—it has mauw
distinctive parts—and also that it is a very integrated system—the?
several parts work together smoothly. A system that is differentiated!
but not integrated is complicated but not complex—it will be¡
chaotic and confusing. A system that is integrated but not differenti:
ated is rigid and redundant but not complex. Evolution appears tof;
favor organisms that are complex; that is, differentiated and inte-?
grated at the same time. ;f

Complexity also is a feature of human personality. Some реорЦ,
are integrated but not very differentiated: They hold on to a few:
ideas, opinions, or feelings. They are predictable. They come across,’
as boring, one-dimensional, rigid. There are others who express*;
many opinions, who are changeable and constantly striving tet’
accomplish something new and different, but who give the impress!

‘· sion that they have no center, no continuity, no ruling passion. They?
have a differentiated consciousness that is not well integrated. Nei-|
ther of these ways of being is very satisfying.

As we have seen, creative individuals seem to have relatively com­
plex personalities. Neither the centrifugal nor the centripetal force
prevails—they are able to keep in balance the contrary tendencies;,
that make some people turn inward until each becomes a hard shell, !

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 6 3

^others fly outward at random. A creative person is highly indi-
“íalized. She follows her own star and creates her own career. At
same time, she is deeply steeped in the traditions of the culture;
/learns and respects the rules of the domain and is responsive to
łppinions of the field—as long as those opinions do not conflict
‘ personal experience. Complexity is the result of the fruitful

ction between these two opposing tendencies,
ut psychological complexity is not just a luxury reserved for cre-

~ individuals. Every person who wants to realize fully the poten-
:ty of what it is to be human, and who wants to take part in the
Tution of consciousness, can aim for a more complex personality,
■’¿do so we need to explore and strengthen those traits that are now
:lting, to learn to shift from openness-to .discipline, within a-con-
?nt of curiosity and awe for the miracle of life. The notion of com-
şjdty adds a deeper layer of understanding of why it is important to

■hieve this. By fully expressing the tendencies of which we are
-able, we become part of the energy that creates the future.

he Application of Creative Energy

p to now I have said nothing about the role of thinking in personal
-cativity. The reason is that if motivations, habits, and personality
-:ts are in place, most of the job is done. It is inevitable that one’s
eative energies will start to flow more freely. Nevertheless, it is also

-•ful to consider what kind of mental operations expedite novel
Tutions to problems in the domain of daily life.

gobiem Finding

įeative people are constantly surprised. They don’t assume that they

’ derstand what is happening around them, and they don’t assume
at anybody else does either. They question the obvious—not out

^ contrariness but because they see the shortcomings of accepted
“lanations before die rest of us do. They sense problems before
ey are generally perceived and are able to define what they’are,________

The reason we consider the artists of the Renaissance so creative is
at they were able to express the emancipation of the human spirit
m. the shackles of religious tradition before the humanist scholars
anyone else did. The use of perspective in painting broke down

e flat hierarchical order of Byzantine composition. The introduc-

3 6 4 C r e a t i v i t y

don of expression,’ movement, and everyday subject matter into pi ;
toriai art lifted human experience to the level of importance prev1’
ously occupied by static representations of religious ideas. Witho*
expressly intending to, without a dear understanding of the cons;
quences of their actions, the Renaissance artists changed our p*
spective on the world.

The creativity of artists in this century also consisted in formula
ing a new visual perspective on the human condition, albeit a muer

more pessimistic one this time. The experiments with cubis ~
abstraction, and expressionism in the visual arts, in music, and in lit(
erature were precursors of relativism in. the social sciences an
deconstructionism in philosophy. They expressed in visible form th1

problems of our age: The lack of a common set of values, the suspi­
cion of ultimate beließ, the loss of faith in progress brought about by
two world wars and their horrors—these were prefigured in the dis
torted, anguished, and random representations that populate mode ”

art.
If you learn to be creative in everyday life you may not change

how future generations will see the world, but you will change the
way you experience it. Problem finding is important in the daily;
domain because it helps us focus on issues that will affect our expen’i
enees but otherwise may go unnoticed. To practice this skill you;
might try the following suggestions.

Find a way to express what moves you. Creative problems general·
emerge from areas of life that are personally important. We have seen»
that many individuals who later changed a domain were orphaned as·
children. The loss of a parent has a huge impact on a young person’s
life. But what, exactly, is this impact? Does the sadness include a fed,
ing of relief? Of heightened responsibility? Of freedom? Of increase·*
closeness to the surviving parent? Unless one finds words, ideas, o’
perhaps visual and musical analogies to represent the impact of th:
loss on one’s experience, it is likely that the parent’s death will caus”
violent pain at first, a generalized depression later, and with time ï’
effects will disappear or work themselves out unconsciously, outside:
the range of rational control.

Other problematic issues in early life include poverty, illness,
abuse, loneliness, marginality, and parental neglect. Later in life th*;
main reasons for unease may involve your job, your spouse, or th~

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 6 5

” te of the community or of the planet. Lesser concerns may derive
;m a temporary threat: the scowl of a boss, the illness of a child,
e change in the value of your stock portfolio. Each of these is likely

0 interfere with the quality of life. But you will not know what ails
*u unless you can attach a name -to it. Thefirst stepi in-solving a

joblem. is to find it, to formulate the vague unease into a concrete
roblem amenable to solution.

nok at problems fiom as many viewpoints as possible. When you know
ţ you have a problem, consider it from many different perspec-

‘ves. How you define a problem usually carries with it an explana­
ron of what caused it. Our first impulse is to label problems by rely-
ig on tried-and-true prejudices. If we have a disagreement with our

pouse we immediately assume that we are innocent and the fault is
ťth the other party. This may be true some of the time but certainly
ot always. The most realistic assumption is that both parties are at

‘ult, and the question is to understand what motivated each partner
о take his or her position in the argument.

Also, although the argument may be ostensibly about one thing,
r instance, money, don’t assume that appearances are true. The dis—

-reement really may be about financial decision making and hence

bout power; or it might be about lack of respect or about inequality

the amount of psychic energy invested in the relationship. How
u identify the nature of the problem is critical for the kind of solu-

on that will eventually work.
Creative individuals do not rush to define the nature’ ofproblems;
ey look at the situation from various angles first and leave the for-
ulation undetermined for a long time. They consider different
uses and reasons. They test their hunches about what really is

oing on, first in their own mind and then in reality. They try tenta­
ţie solutions and check their success—and they are open to refor-
-.ulating the problem if the evidence suggests they started out on the
?rong path.

‘V A good way to learn problem finding in everyday life is to stop
ourself when you sense you have a problem and give it the best shot

t a formulation. If someone has been promoted ahead of you, you
ght define the problem as “This happened because the boss dis­

hes me.” As soon as you do this; reverse the formulation: “It happened
ecause I dislike the boss.” Does this way of looking at the problem

3 6 6 C r e a t i v i t y

make sense? Could it be at least partly true? And then immediate!*
consider a few more alternatives: “It happened because I haven’t kep;
up with the changing job as much as I should have” or “Lately ;
have been too distraught by what happens at home, and it affecte,
my performance.” Which formulation comes closest to representin1

the problem? Perhaps each is true to a certain extent,, and your col ‘
league’s promotion was overdetermined by several unrelated causes. ;T

It is possible that you eventually decide that the fact that you didn’t
get promoted is no problem at all. Being passed over may give you:
more time to spend at home, to learn something new, to devote your;
psychic energy to some other task. You may come to realize that thé
problem was your competitiveness, your ambition, the fact that yo\|;
invested all your energies in advancing on the job rather than doing
good job for its own sake, or living more fully. So the failed promo^
tion, instead of being the problem, is really the first step to the soluti
don of a more fundamental problem. J

‘ Perhaps none of these formulations is “right” in the sense that it-i
identifies correctly the causes of the event. Nevertheless, it щ

extremely important to identify the nature of the problem, because;
what you will do next depends on it. By naming the problem and
attributing a cause to it you will shape not only the past but, more;
important, the future. It is in this sense that the lives of creative indii,
viduals are less determined than most of our lives. Because they pause?
to consider a greater range of possible explanations for what happens,;’
to them, they have a wider and less predictable range of options Щ

choose from.
. ‘4

Figure out the implications of the problem. Once you have created ц
formulation, you can begin to entertain possible solutions. Q£
course, solutions even to a simple problem like “Joe was promoted;
ahead of me” vary incredibly depending on how you formulated i*
and therefore what causes you attributed to it. Solutions mighf
include finding interests outside the job, or learning to understand?
and to like the boss, or catching up on job skills—or a little of
each. y

At this stage, too, it pays to consider a variety of solutions, to;
entertain different possibilities. Creative individuals experiment with;

·, a number of alternative solutions until they are certain that they haw?
Д found the one that will work best. Again, as soon as you think of ^

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 6 7

ood solution, it is useful to think of an opposite one. Even the most
Experienced person is often unable to tell in advance, just by think-
jug, which solution will do die trick. So first trying one way of
oing about the problem, then trying another tack for a while, and
en comparing results often yields the most creative result. It is good

!o be quick and consistent. But if you wish to be creative you should
‘ e willing to run the risk of sometimes seeming indecisive.

J„«V ‘

^implement the solution. Solving problems creatively involves continu­
ous experimentation and revision. The longer you can keep options
pen, the more likely it is that the solution will be original and
ppropriate. Artists who do more original work change their tech-
; -que as they are painting, and their paintings develop on the canvas
&i less predictable ways than those of less original artists. This is
ecause the original artist is more ready to learn from the emerging
“ork; he or she is alert to the unexpected and is willing to go with a
etter solution if one presents itself. Similarly, creative writers often
tart a story without knowing how it will end; the ending emerges as
key follow the logic of the evolving story.
\ How does this apply to creativity in the domain of everyday
‘e? To take an absurdly trivial example, if you are giving a party

want to make sure that the seating arrangement around the
;-ner table is the most appropriate for a good mixing of the
ests, it makes sense to prepare a seating plan. But if by the time

’nner is ready you notice that some of the guests whom you had
-heduled to sit side by side seem cool toward each other, you may

hnt to change the plans at the last moment. And if the dinner
ms out to be dull, you should try to match up people in differ-

nt combinations for coffee and dessert.
Such flexibility works only if you keep paying close attention to
e process of solution and if you are sensitive enough to the feed-

âck so that you can correct the course as new information becomes
” ble. The reason most people prefer routine, tried-and-true solu­

ns to their problems is that this requires less psychic energy. In
ct, we could not afford to be creative all the time because we
ould soon stretch the limits of attention and collapse. Routine
-ults in great savings. But it makes good sense to know how to

rae up with a creative solution when we need one and can spare
e effort.

3 6 8 C r e a t i v i t y

Divergent Thinking
Not ail thinking involves the solution, of problems. Sometimes ~
are asked to respond to what other people say, or to produce ide
in response to events, without having a particular problem th
needs to be formulated and solved. There are more or less creati:
ways to pursue these less focused mental tasks. In talking to a frien
I can use trite phrases or I can try to say things in a fresh, topics
way that more closely represents what I feel at the moment. I c-
use stock images or try for more vivid ones, based on comm-

experiences. ¿
Most commercial programs designed to increase individual creati’

ity focus on this particular aspect. They try to enhance three dim·*”

sions of divergent thinking that агеч generally held to be important С
creativity: fluency, or the knack for coming up with a great numfr
of responses; flexibility, or the tendency to produce ideas that are di
ferent from each other; and originality, which refers to the relativ

rarity of the ideas produced. Brainstorming programs are ways *
stimulate people to increase the fluency, flexibility, and originality .^

their ideas and responses. You can obtain the same results by tal ‘ ‘
things in your hands and following these suggestions..

Produce as many ideas as possible. If you have to write a thank·
note, a report, or a letter, identify a key word and then try to genep
ate as many synonyms for it as possible. If you get stuck, turn to:f
thesaurus. Or instead of words that mean the same thing, shift t‘
meanings that are similar but lead in different directions. At first g;
for quantity; later you will be critical and edit for quality. :

If you are planning a weekend or a vacation, do the same thin’
First, come up with as many options as you can think of, even ■ ’
they are not all very sensible. A crazy suggestion may jolt you im ‘¿

thinking in new directions and lead to more acceptable alternativ-1

you would not have considered otherwise. If you are shopping £b
clothes in a department store, don’t just go straight to the familia
floor but try on the greatest variety time allows. Browse for boo’ ”
outside the accustomed categories. If your boss aslö for an opinio*·
don’t give only the predictable pet viewpoint based on your inter
ests. Surprise her with a whole range of ideas, options, and possi,
bilities—how wild you can afford to be depends on how conserva;

tive she is.

E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 6 9

eve as many different ideas as possible. Quantity is important, but try
■;avoid redundancy. Variety in conversation, in the selection of
usic, in a menu, is generally appreciated. It pays off to learn how to
temate topics of conversation, types of restaurants, kinds of shows,
ays of dressing. Robert Galvin of Motorola trained himself to do a

■’■pie mental exercise: Whenever someone says something, he asks
mself, What if the opposite were true? Imagining alternatives to

at others hold to be true is probably going to be useless 99 per-
‘ “t of the time. But that one other time the practice of flipping to a

vetgent perspective might generate arrinsigfrt~that is not only Origi-
г-] but also useful.

()y to produce unlikely ideas. Originality is one of the hallmarks of
eative thinking. If asked to come up with names for a baby, or ways

* use a paper clip, or things to do at a party, a creative person is
¿:ly to give answers that are different from the answers of the
jority. But these answers won’t be bizarre. Once people hear

-em, they are likely to say, “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it
;yself?”

¿■It is more difficult to learn how to think in original ways than to
—n how to be fluent and flexible. It requires cultivating a taste for
r ality that is not necessary for the other two. One exercise involves
king a random paragraph from the paper each day and seeing if you

■an find unique, more memorable ways of expressing the same ideas,
‘the paragraph is too dull or obscure, substitute another. Or you
iin look at your office or your living room, and ask yourself whether
reflects your personal taste, and if not, what you could do to bring
in closer harmony with your unique self.

f If your job involves frequent meetings and conferences, you might
’tivate the habit of jotting down brief summaries of what the oth-
aroimd the table have said. Then you can quickly generate alter­

ative positions to those that have been expressed, or integrate the
ious perspectives in a more comprehensive perspective. Instead of

titing views that are based on your previous positions, use the lines
f force emerging in the meeting to suggest new ways of thinking
out the issues.

To think in a divergent mode requires more attention than think-
ş in the usual convergent style. As usual, it takes more energy to be

3 7 0 C r e a t i v i t y E n h a n c i n g P e r s o n a l C r e a t i v i t y 3 7 1

creative than to be a routine thinker. Therefore, you must choo-
when to try for creativity and when not to; otherwise you mij ‘
burn yourself out in a blaze of intense originality.

Choosing a Special Domain
If creativity consists in changing a particular domain, then person?’
creativity consists in changing the domain of personal life. We call:;
physicist creative if he or she changes the way physics is practiced;
person who can change his or her own life we call personally ere*,
ative. The domain of personal life consists of the rules that constrain
psychic energy, the habits and practices that define what we do da;
in, day out. How we dress, how we work, how we conduct our rela¿
tionships define this domain, and if we can improve on it, the quality
of life as a whole is improved. The suggestions in this chapter hay/;

been about how to increase creativity in the domain of everyday lifoį
But even though personal life can be very complex, it is also limj

ited in scope. Much of what makes life interesting and meaningful
belongs to special domains: Music, cooking, poetry, gardening
bridge, history, religion, baseball, and politics are symbolic systems,
with their own special rules, and they exist outside any individual’s
life. They and thousands of other such systems make up culture, an ‘
we become human by seeing the world through the lenses they pro*
vide. A person who learns to operate by the rules of one of thes;
domains has a chance to expand enormously the range of his or hr’
creativity. ■?’

Too many people assume that most of the world is off-limits to
them. Some consider art as being beyond the realm of possibility*
others sports or music. Or dancing, science, philosophy—the list of
things that are “not for me” can be endless. And it is true that sonu,,
domains just don’t agree with some people. But generally the prob­
lem is that cultural resources are underutilized. Either because о
ignorance, low self-esteem, or habits of thought established early, wei
discount the possibility that we could enjoy and be good at many о
the things that make others happy. It took several years of jail fo
Malcolm X to realize the power of religion and of, politics, and t”

discover that he had gifts for both. о
Few of us know in advance what domains we may have an affini

for. Prodigies are children who from an early age show a definite gi_‘
in some direction, but most of us are not prodigies and it takes u-

‘ecades of trial and error to find out what we are best cut out for.
/ven in our sample, some individuals did not realize what their voca-
’ons were until they were middle-aged. And often the realization
/as forced on them by outside factors, such as a war or the necessity
’-‘do something that then turned out to-be-just right. – —‘—“■
ii lt is important to try as many domains as possible. Start with
lings you already enjoy and then move to related domains. If you

’’ e to read biography, you might try history. Swimming may lead to
kin diving, to scuba, and then—why not?—to skydiving. Learning
6 operate within a new domain is always difficult, and love at first
:ght is rare. A certain amount of persistence is necessary. On the

-{her hand, it makes no sense to persevere in an activity that gives no
oy, or the promise of it.
I Eventually you should be able to find one or more domains that fit
*our interests, things that you enjoy doing and that expand your life,
“deally we should be able to do so in as many domains as possible,
ut in practice the limits on psychic energy make it impossible to

e on more than a few discrete activities seriously.
i There are two dangers as you become involved in a domain. The
jrst is addiction; some domains are so seductive that you may invest
о much attention into it that you have none left for your job and
*amily. Some chess players become so taken by the game that to all

tents and purposes they become zombies; the same can be true of
4ting on horses, collecting art, studying the Bible, or cruising the
-ternet.

•V The other danger is the opposite: You can become so diffuse,- so
‘ -’ectic, that what you feel in different domains ends up being the
me superficial experience. Like the traveler who goes everywhere

/id is still the same boring, provincial soul he was before he left,
any people seem to gain nothing from sampling the best that the

ulture has to offer. As is usually the case, the best solution does not
e with the extremes.

As you learn to operate within a domain, your life is certainly
-ing to become more creative. But it should be repeated that this
oes not guarantee creativity with a capital c. You can be personally
; creative as you please, but if the domain and the field fail to coop­

te—as they almost always do—your efforts will not be recorded in
íe history books. Learning to sculpt will do wonders for the quality
fyour life, but don’t expect critics to get ecstatic, or collectors to

372C r e a t i v i t y

beat a path to your door. The competition among new memes is
fierce; few survive by being noticed; selected, and added to the cult
ture. Luck has a huge hand in deciding whose с is capitalized. But if;
you don’t learn to be creative in your personal life, the chances of:«
contributing to the culture drop even closer to zero. And what really .|g
matters, in the last account, is not whether your name has been Ц
attached to a recognized discovery, but whether you have lived a full Щ

and creative life. .·;. Ц

A p p e n d i x a

Brief Biographical Sketches of

the Respondents Who Were

Interviewed for This Study

4dler, Mortimer J. Male. b. 12/28/02. Philosopher, author. ‘American.
.ecipient, Aquinas Medal, American Catholic Philosophical Association
-1976). Honorary Trustee, Aspen Institute for Humanistic Studies (1973-).
uthor, How to Read a Book (with Charles Van Doren, 1940); Six Great Ideas
1981); The Paideia Program (1984). Chairman of the board of editors, Ency-
-pcedia Britannica (1974—). Associate editor, Great Booh of the Western World
945-; editor in. chief, 2d ed., 1990), Syntopicon (1952, 1990); editor in chief,
he Annals of America (21 vols., 1968). See his Mortimer J. Adler: Philosopher at
«rge (1977). Interviewed by Kevin Rathunde (1/17/91). Age 88.

v Anderson, Jack. Male. b. 10/19/22. Journalist, author, writer. Ameri­
en. Recipient, Pulitzer Prize for national reporting (1972). Author, The
hderson Papers (with George Clifford, 1973); Fiasco (with James Boyd,
;983); others. See his Confessions of a Muckraker (with James Boyd, 1979).
interviewed by Kevin Rathunde (5/6/91). Age 68.

Asner, Edward. Male. b. 11/15/29. Actor. American. Recipient, five
“Iden Globe awards; seven Emmy awards. President, Screen Actors Guild

1981-1985). Roles in theater, motion pictures, and television, including
~,ie Mary Tyler Moore Show (TV series, 1970—1977); Roots (TV miniseries,
Í977); Lou Grant (TV series, 1977-1982). Interviewed by Kevin Rathunde
4/30/91). Age 61.

THE
BIRTH
OFTHE

IMAGINATION

DAY IN THE ACTUMN OF 1879 a Spanish nobleman and his daughter set Out on a

little ad\·enture. They were going to explore a cave not far from the family estate at

Puente San Miguel, in the Cantabria region of northern Spain. The nobleman’s name

was Marcelino Sanz de Sautuola, and his daughter — not yet in her teens — was called

Maria. Together they made for the hillside of Altamira, which had lately been reported

as a site of prehistoric occupation. To use the language of the time, Altamira was the sort

of place where troglodytes or ‘people before Adam’ were thought to have sheltered.

As a keen amateur archaeologist, de Sautuola had high hopes of what he might find

at Altamira. The bones of strange animals might be scattered around; perhaps traces of

fires kindled long ago. With any luck, and close investigation of the cave floor, some

rudimentary tools or implements might also be retrieved.

De Sautuola was not merely hunting for curiosities. When it came to publishing

his discoveries at Altamira, he gra\·ely noted that his ultimate motive for making the

expedition with Maria was to ‘tear away the thick veil that separates us from the origins

and customs of the ancient inhabitants of these mountains’. Once he and Maria were

inside the cave, he crouched dO\Yn and began to examine the ground by lantern light.

It was cool and damp in the caYe, but spacious too. While her father was poking and

7 —

6 t, t’ct.ail ofthe <:ctv'e: p.iirittngs at Al'-..amira, Spain. c. i1,000 oc, whicn M?ria .a."ld J"f-.at(el ,10 de Sautuola diS

at the floor, Maria wandered off to do some exploring of her own. Ir was nut

long before the darKnesb of :\.ltamira echoed with a ‘-hild’s wondrous cry.

“Luok, Papa — pamtings ,,f 0xcn!’

So a young girl was the first modern human to set eyes upon the ·gallery’ of

prehistonc pamrmg, tur which Altamira would bec,,me ren mmed (Fig. 61.

Being small, !vlana had a bener \’iew 0f the caYe\ low ceiling than her father.

Ho\\ever, her re~ogniti,in ufthe animals whose image~ were ranged over Altarnira\

natural vaulr was not quite accurate. These were aur0chs — a rype of bison that had been

extinct for thousand~ 0f years. Herds of them were depicted — standing, grazing, running,

sleeping .• -\nd ar,Jund these aurochs there were otht.:r fuur-legged – beasts: horses, ibexes,

boar. Gazing up at what his Jaughter had found, de Sautuola was almost ~peel·hless

with excitement. He i<.nc:w instin..:nvely that this art was \'ery old indeed; but 1t was more

than instinct th;,,t told him so. The cn•e was littLn:d with debris belonging lo what would

bu:ome known as che Stone Age — or, in an:hae,1logical parlance, the Upper Palac,1lith1.:

period ( 1 ‘i,000-1 – 0,000 years ago) . .½orec’l\’er, dt’ Sautunla l.. llUld see sirnuarities between

the bisc,n depicted here at Altamira and some heme ..:an-ings of animals lately discl1n:red

in ca,·es in France.

The gentlc:nan-scholar – lost no time in communicating rhe ne,Ys. It created a

sensation, understandable even to chis day, although, for reasons of presef\’ation, visitors

.ire now ·1dmittcJ only to a replica of the can:. Gazing on:r Altamira ‘s rocky ~urfacc:b-

the vie\\’er soon Jpprcciarc, that the word ‘painting’ 1s inadequate here. The unev~n

contours c,f the rnck ha\’e been ingeni<:'usly inwrporat.:d w give the animals a bulky,

almoc;t three-dimem1onal – presence. Big bo\’ine shoulders L.J0m up in the half-light: – and,

while the cxaLt ~pcc1es l,f bison depicted is no longer to be seen, we cannot fail to he

struck by the quality ,,t dose observation on display. How the animals stood while ar

pasrure, how thev coll,1psed when recumhent or wounded — the Altamira depictions are,

as we should say, convincing. The colours, too, are memorable: predominantly red and

black, hur \\’ith s:1adings 0f form also picked out in brown, purple, yellow, pink and white.

These strong, rgamc pigments, deri,·ed from ,·arious uxides and carhons, play their

part in gi,·ing the work a p iwerfully earthy depth anJ ,ub,rnnce. All in all, it m ight be

concluded that the pamtings here arc to(, good w be true.

Sadly for de Sautuola, many of his comemrnraries thought just that. After an

initial acc()]ade from the press, ro~al visits tn the cave and so on, douhts regarding rhe

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

authenticity of the art at Altamira hegan co he voiced, Nothing comparahle to their scale

and piccorial delicacy had heen found at prehistoric sites then known ro archaeolog1cal

connoisseurs. One premature explanation of Altamira suggested that the paintings

had been done during the Roman occupation of the Iberian peninsula. Within a year of

de Sautuola ‘s announcement of the find, however, more poisonous rumours were

circulating. An artist was seen going into the cave (de Sautuola had commissioned him

to make copies of the ceiling): word went round that he was the one who had painted

1t in the first place. At home and ahroad, de Sautuola found himself mocked as a dupe,

nr suspected of perpetrating a hoax. He died in 1888. a deeply disappointed and widely

disbelieved man. His friends said he was brokenhearted by the whole affair.

Young Maria would live to see her father’s honour thoroughly redeemed. But before

,ve lament the scepticism that brought misery to a pioneer explorer of prehistoric art,

let us admit our own primary reaction to what we see at AJtamira, and at other great

underground sites subsequently revealed in Spain and southern France — most notably

the cave~ of Lascaux and Cham·et. ‘Amazing’; ‘incredible’; ‘astonishing’: we reach for

1he cliched language of admiration, and for once it denotes a genuine mystery. No

s.imple of early human handiwork is more perplexing than rhe large-scale – cave paintings

of Palaeolithic Eurnpe.\Vhat follows here is an attempt to make sense of what the images

might mean, and why they were painted on subterranean walls. A particular cheory is

pursued, and other theories rejected — but they are theories all the same. In the end,

amazement may remain the proper respon~e. What we can establish for certain, however,

is that these paintings are not localized miracles. Altamira belongs to a wider process of

human development, and it is all the more exciting for that.

THE CREATIVE EXPLOSION

Radiocarhon dating of the pigments used in the Altamira paintings has established that

rhe cave investigated by Maria and Marcelino de Sautuola was decorated between

13.300 and 14,900 years ago. This more or less confirms the notional antiquity assigned

to the images by de Sautuola hack in 1879. Rut beyond the element of forgirnhle

surprise, why w~1·e the karned comemporaries of de Sautuc1la so reluccant to believe himJ

The answer is that Altamira simply did not fit with prevailing scientific and popular

\·iews about the origin and development of the human species. Charles Darwin may have

— 20 —

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

caused theological controversy in Victorian Britain with his theory of evolution by

natural selection — a process often summarized as ‘the surviYal of the finest’, though

Darwin himself did not coin that phrase — but so far as it confirmed stereotypical

Western attitudes to the prehistoric past, Darwin’s model was widely accepted. If

evolution favoured the sur\’ival of the fittest, and humankind was set on an upward

curve of progress in adapting to understand and control the world, then those humans

left behind — especially those left behind many thousands of years ago — must be

congenitally backward, ignorant and clumsy.

Already in 1651 , the English philosopher Thomas Hobbes had fastidiously

described the ‘ill condition’ of humans living in a pre-civilized – ‘state of nature’. It was

a situation, he declared, of’continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of

man solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short’. At the time when the paintings at Altamira

were found, most people \Vould have imagined the typical ‘ca\’eman’ as some shaggy,

low-browed – creature, his ground-scraping – knuckles clamped to a knotty club. This savage

might have chased bison to fill his belly, but to represent the animal in delicate profile,

with careful, sensitive hues — such fine aesthetic capacity was surely beyond belief?

So went the logic of orthodox opinion. However, even the most tenacious

upholders of this view were forced to reconsider as further painted caves came to light,

especially in France. In 1901 , for example, two major sites near Les Eyzies in the

Perigord region — Les Combarelles and Fom-de-Gaume – – — were confirmed as bona fide.

The follm\·ing year, a major shift in attitudes was signalled when Emile Cartailhac, one

of the French experts who had dismissed Altamira as a prank, published a penitential

essay, accepting that his doubts had been in error: the paintings at Altamira, and others

like them, really did belong to ‘the dawn of time’. In the summer of 1902, Cartailhac

joined other delegates from a scientific conference at Montauban in making a tour to

inspect the se\’eral painted ca\·es in the area. A consensus was declared: art indeed

existed in prehistory, and the science of understanding it had only ju st begun.

Discoveries of further caves proliferated throughout the twentieth century. France

yielded not only examples of painted surfaces, but also relief figures, such as the ‘frieze’

of animals brought to light in 1909 at Cap Blanc, again near Les Eyzies, and the two

bison moulded in clay at the end of the deep ca\’e atTuc d ‘Audoubert in the Pyrenees.

lvlost stories of modern discoYery contain a ration of drama. Appropriately,

perhaps, it was ,vhile searching for a lost dog that se,·eral schoolboys came across the

— 2

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

splendid menagerie painted within the cave at Lascaux, near Montignac, in 1940 (Fig. 7).

And while the finding (in 1994) of even more remarkahle animal scenes in France’s

Ardeche Gorge came about from deliberate underground exploration, the subsequent

dispute over ownership of rhis site — named Chauvet Cave after the potholing enthusiast

who first flashed a torch hearn over it — is something of a legal soap opera.

A pair of rhinoceroses lock horns for a fight; a natural event recorded with swift,

confident brushstrokes. A set of feline profiles o,·erlap, as if casuaJly anticipating the

draughtsman’s rules of depth and perspecti\·e by many millennia (Fi~. 8). Astonishing’

Indeed. But not absolutely incredible — because the paintings of Chauvet Cave, firmly

dated to over 30,000 years ago, pro,·ide merely the most spectacular indicarors to date

of what some archaeologists refer to as a general ‘Creative Explosion’ occurring in the

Upper Palaeolithic period (c. 40,000-Jn.000 – years ago). The phenomenon is not

confined either to France or to continental Europe. Essentially, it marks the ascendancy

of a particular biological species, Homo sapiem, the ‘knowing human’ type that has come

to dominate the Earth’s surface.

A summary of the background to this arrirnl of anatomically modern humans may

he found in a separate section of this book (see page 14). Here, it is enough to observe

that paintings on cave walls belong to a catalogue of telltale relics left hy the ingenious and

creative Homo sapiens c. 40.000-30,000 – years ago. Among these relics are the following:

1 Flint tools, produced in such a way as to be exquisitely symmetrical. Such

symmetry may have assisted their function (if, for example, axes were thrown

as missiles): otherwise it exists rn invest a functional obJect with aesthetic value.

2 Perforated teeth and shells, collected for the sake of bodily ornament. Items of

jewellery, such as the neck.lace of shells found at Mandu Mandu in Western

Australia, are sure signs of personal embellishment; possibly alsn indicators of

social status.

3 Depositions of food and gifts aking with burial of the dead. Excavated burials

at the Cro-Magnon – shelter near Les Eyzies and at the site of Dolni–Vestonice in

the Czech Republic may not qualify structurally as tombs, but the presence of

grave goods is suggestive of ritual , and some concept of an afterlife.

4 Scratchings on bone and antler that seem intentional and ordered. Several

examples of such markings from the site of Zhoukoudian, near Beijing in China,

7 (top) Detai l of the Salon o!the Bulls’ at Lascaux. ‘1ear Montgnac, France, c.18,000 BC

8 (above) Tre masterfully depicted feline faces 1n the L io n Panel ’of Chauvet Cave, France, c. 32– 30,000 BC.

‘

THE BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

remain open to interpretation, while an ingenious case has been made for reading

nolches on the handle of a rool found at Jshango, in central equatorial Africa , as a

notational system of rallie~ that marked time according to phases of the moon.

Certain aspects of this culrural ‘lake-off’, – such as vocal communication (singing included),

dance, and painting done directly on ro bodies, can never he known. Much small-scale –

or portable art may have vanished. And in many parts of the world there are markings

on rncks that simply cannot be securely dated by archaeokigists. These are reasons why,

in any im·estigation of the origins of art, attention focuses upon the cave-paintings – of

Palaeolithic Europe. Accepting that they are the best-preserved – and most visible signs

of the global creative explosion, how do we ~tart to explain their appeanmce:-

ART FOR ART’S ‘ SAKE7

Pahlo Picasso, arguably the most illustrious artist of che twentieth century, seems to have

paid a visit to the newly discovered Lascaux cave in 1941. ‘We have learnt nothing!’ is

reported as his awed, almost indignant comment, implying that che anonymous Stnne

Age draughtsmen of Lascaux had miraculously anticipated the representational aims

and achievements of art within modern, ‘ civilized’ society. Uncannily (as it must have

seemed to him) , the prominent animals at Lascaux were hulls — favoured subjects nf

Picasso, and indeed, featuring in one of his earliest paintings as a boy. Also, some of the

animals depicted at Lascaux have their form emphasized in thick black outline. This is

also uncannily similar to a pictorial device favoured at one time hy Picasso and his post­-

lmpress1onist contemporaries, some of whom would be nicknamed in 1905 as lesfauves

(the wild ones). It must have unnerved the Spanish painter, to see a stylistic invention

pre-empted – by many thousands of years: ‘the shock of the old’, we might say. Later, at

a Parisian exhibition in 1953, Picasso re-created – for his own work the flickering, torchlit

experience of viewing a prehistoric cave — such was his empathy for ancestral comrades.

Picasso·s reaction is one that many of us would share. Identifying the precise species

of bison, ibex or mammoth might be beyond us. But, like young Maria at Altamira, we

have lirtle essenrial difficulty in seeing what these ancient artists were trying to represent.

Instinctively, then, we may \\·ant to ‘update’ che earliest human artists by assuming

that they painted for the sheer joy of painting.

— 2~ —

THE BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

The philosophers of Classical Greece recognized it as a defining trait of humans

to ‘delight in works of imitation’ — to enjoy the very act and triumph ofrepresentation.

lfwe were close to a real hon or snake, we should feel frightened. But a well-executed –

picture of a lion or snake will give us pleasure. Why suppose that our Palaeolithic

ancestors were any different?

This simple acceptance of cave-paintings – as art for art’s sake has a certain appeal.

To think of I .ascaux as a gallery or salon allows it to be a sort of special viewing place

where the handiwork of accomplished a1’tistes might be displayed. And at Lascaux, the

evident care with which individual animals have been abstracted from any natural

background or landscape makes it tempting to suppose that the painters sought to create,

as it were, ‘life tudies’ of their subjects Plausibly, daily existence in parts of Palaeolithic

Europe may not have been so hard, with an abundance of ready food, and therefore the

leisure time for art.

The problems with this explanation, however, are various. In the first place, the

proliferation of archaeological discoveries — and this includes some of the world’s

innumerable rock art sites that cannot be dated — has served ro emphasize a remarkably

limited repertoire of subjects. The images that recur are those of animals; and,

commonly, similar types of animal. Human figures are unusual; and when they do make

an appearance, they are rarely done with the same attention to form accorded to the

animals. If Palaeolithic artists were simply seeking to represent the beauty of the world

around them, would they not have left a far greater range of pictures — of trees and

flowers, of the sun and the stars?

A further question to the theory of art for art’s sake is posed by the high incidence

of Palaeolithic images that appear not be imitative of any reality whatsoever. These are

geometrical shapes or patterns consisting of dots or lines. Such marks may be found

isolated or repeated over a particular surface, but also scattered across more recognizable

forms. A good example of this may he seen in the geologically spectacular grotto of Pech

l\1\erle, in the Lot region of France (Fig. 9). Here we encounter some favourite animals

from the Palaeolithic repertoire — a pair of stout–bellied horses. But O\’er and around the

horses’ outlines are multiple dark spots, daubed in disregard for the otherwise naturalistic

representation of the animals.What does such patterning imitate?

There is also the factor of location. The ca\’erns of Altamira and Lascaux might

conceiYably qualify as underground galleries, but many other paintings have been found

— 25 —

9 The ”Spotted Horses· ’ 1n the caves of Pech Merle, France. c. 20.000 BC, wrth the 1ntrigu1ng patterns of dark spots
around the horses’ ‘ outl•nes. The hand stencils may be later touches.

THE BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

in recesses totally unsuitable for any kind of viewing — ught nooks and crannies that must

have been a\\’kward even for the artists to penetrate, let alone for anyone else wannng

to see the art. For example, a painted cave adjoining Pech Merle, called Le Combe!, can

only be reached by squeezing through a narrow cleft in the rock and crawling along on

one’s stomach; there was never any room to admire the handiwork in comfort.

Finally, we may doubt the notion that the Upper Palaeolithic wa, a Garden of Eden

in which food came readily, leaYing humans ample time to amuse themselves with art.

For Europe it was still the Ice Age. An estimate of the basic level of sustenance then

necessary for indiYidual human survival has been judged at 2200 calories per day. This

consideration, combined with the stark iconographic emphasis upon animals in the cave

art, has persuaded some archaeologists that the primary m otive behind Palaeolithic

images must lie with the primary acth·ity of Palaeolithic people — hunting.

ART AND HUNTING

Hunting is a skill. Tracking, stalking, chasing and killing the prey are difficult, sometimes

dangerous activities. What if the process could be made easier — by art?

In the early decades of the twentieth century, an influential French archaeologist,

Abbe Henri Breuil ( 1877-1961 – ), made this suggestion the basis for his theory that

the cave-paintings – were all about ‘sympathetic magic’. The reason why Palaeolithic artists

so often depicted animals was that the business of hunting animals preoccupied them

and their contemporaries. And the artists striYed diligently to make their animal images

evocative and realistic because they were attempting to ·capture the spirit’ of their prey.

As Breuil stressed, these debutant human artists clearly did not draw like children.

What could have prompted their studious attention to making such naturalistic,

recognizable images? For Breuil, it had to come from some extraordinary helief about

the power of images. If a hunter were able to make a true likeness of some animal, then

that animal was virtually trapped. Images, therefore, had the magical capacity to confer

success or luck in the hunt.

As with the interpretation of cave-paintings – as art for art’s sake, there is a general

element to the theory of hunting magic that is immediately attractive. After all, anyone

who has ever kissed a photograph knows that images can serve the purpose of wishful

thinking. Mam· instances are known of societies in which images arc honoured as

— 27 —

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

potential surrogates of reality. Voodoo-type – superstitions, for instance, rely on the belief

that sticking pins in a wax effigy of someone will make that person feel pain. An thereby

hecomes a medium for magic. And while we might accept that the image of a lion or

a snake does not terrify us like the real thing, it is also well documented that we are quire

capable of responding to an image as if it were real. Being a Catholic priest, Rrcuil knew

well enough that many people of his rime could stand before a picture or ~tatue of the

Virgin Mary with all the respect due to an animate presence.

Breuil could point to further specific features of the ca,·e-paintings – chat favoured

his approach. In numerous images, an animal was shown apparently struck by arrows

or spears, or else marked as if wounded or snared (Fig. 10) . As for the many animals not

shown as direct victims of the hunt, they could belong ro art’s magical purpose

nonetheless. T .arge herds, with well-fed – or pregnant beasts signified yet more wishful

thinking on the part of hunters hoping for me hountiful increase of their prey. And, of

course, it was the mysterious or occulr function of the paintings that, for Rreuil,

explained why they were located deep under ground. Magic had to he performed in

dark places, out of sight; it was a <;ecret operation.

Rreuil’s theory appealed rn i:hose who emisaged the Ice Age in Europe as a period

of hard survival. when mammoths roamed the land, and fierce bears competed with

humans for rocky shelters. And the element of superstitious or irrational belief suited

anyone whose view of the past was shaped by the sort of desk-hound – anthropology so

eloquently presented by JG. Frazer in his multi-volume – compendium, The Golden Bough

(1907–15). Subtitled’ A Study in Magic and Religion’, Frazer’s work seemed, frcirn

the poet T.S. Eliot’s admiring point of view, to create ‘an abysm of time’. Yet the Frazerian

pursuit of data from ‘primitive’ societies relied upon an ideal of progress characteristic

ofVicrnrian Britain. Frazer himself styled it as ‘the long march, the slow and toilsome

ascent, of humanity from savagery to civilisation’. Trust in magicians was, for Frazer,

a key defining feature of ‘savage’ societies.

Anthropology has moved on from such complacency. But the main objection to

Rreuil’s theory arises not from ideological disdain; rather from more attentive

archaeological examination of the ancient debris within the caves — in particular. analysis

IO (previous pa~e) Wounded bison from Ni aux caves. ~ear Ariege. France. ( 4.000 BC

— 30 —

food remains left around hearr:hs or in middens I rubbish dump~ ). If the paintings

were created for the purpose of ~uccessful hunting, it would be logical tu expect that the

animals depicted on the cave walls werL chose featuring in the daily diet of the cave’s

mhabirants. But this correlation does not hold. At Lascaux, the animals painted were bulls,

horses and red deer. 1v1ost of the bones discarded in the cave, however, were of reindeer.

At Altamira they drew his,m, hut the associated bones were those of deer, goat and wild

hnar, with ~hellfish adding a little variety. Mammoths appear with some frequency in the

caves of the Ardeche and Perigord region~, but not in the reL·• ,rd l’f human subsistence

at that time. As one archaeologist puts it, ‘the Cpper Palaeolimic painters had horses and

b1~on on their mind, whereas they had reindeer and ptarmigan in their stomachs’ .

If nor propelled by hunger, why did they paint? Although me science of

neurophysiology wa~ in its infancy, Brem! and his contemporaries sensed mat it \’ia~

fundamentally unnarural for the human mind to produce and use representational

images in the first place, citing the reporred case of a Turki~h Muslim who, having had no

\C’.Xperience of picturc::s or drawings, failed to idemify a nvo-dimensional – image of a horse

because he could not ,valk around it. The 1.,apacicy for images, though quickly acquired,

did not seem to be innate. Ifwe need to have s,,mt’ mental expenem:e or training in order

to rewgm:o SYmbols, how did we l’.Ver acLJuire me ability to ~reati: them in the first place?

So the quc~t .:ontinucd — the quest to explain how this peculiar human habit of

representation began.

Ar

Anyone who .:onsider, the practicalitie, of interior decorntion at Altamira and Lascaux

will suppose thal some system uf ~caffolding mmt han been l’.rected for the painters.

Experts confirm the suppositilm. Image~ were not casually scrawled on the walls, but laid

out as part of a considered programme or scheme of decoration.

It is to the credit of another French ~cholar, Andre Lerni-Gourhan – (1911-86), –

that the theory he offered as an alternative to art-for-hunting – – was based on an acceptance

or Palaec lithic imagery as a grand project — anything but random sketches. Strongly

influenced by the Structuralist school of anthropology (see page 89) , Leroi-Gourhan –

proposed considering Lhe cave-paintings – as a symbolic system based on binary

oppositions er pairing,, with the essential Ji vision being that between man and woman.

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

Notoriously, there are very few images of humans in the caves. But what if certain

animals were to be associated with males, and others with females) With reasons ranging

from the elementary tC) the sophisticated, Lerni-Gourhan – argued that horses, ihexes and

deer were symbolically masculine, while aurochs and bison were feminine. H is analysis

defies summary: hut ultimately — as might be guessed — it leads ta the supposition of

some kind of fertility rite staged in the caves, for which the images must serve as liturgy.

Some would say that Leroi-Gourhan’s – approach was music to the ears of anyone

raised on the psychological doctrines of Sigmund Freud. Cenainly there were Freudian

overtones to the way in which T ,eroi-Gourhan – explained the geometric motifs that

recurred in the caves. Again he identified a male-female – gender divide. Straight lines

and dots signified male, while circular or enclosing forms were emblematic of female

form. Other archaeologists had already noted certain painted shapes or graffiti suggestive

of one particular part of female anatomy — the \·ulva — which favoured this sexually

symbolic reading. Leroi-Gourhan – himself, howe,·er, remained reluctant to specify the

implied fertility rite.

Today it may be hard to resist being amused by the sort of interpretation that sees

every straight line or spear as phallic, every circle as a womb. Yet, as even his critics agree,

Leroi-Gourhan – was surely right to persevere in his assumption that the Palaeolithic

artists worked intentionally; that there was a method and a m eaning to their work as a

whole. But if one problem with his theory is that it depends upon a modern obsession

with sexuality, then the general question arises of how we should proceed. We still need

some explanation of how the knack or capacity for representation fir st clicked into plat.:e .

Can any analysis bridge the distance between modern dewers and ancient artists?

OUT OF AFRICA

In the age of our great–grandparents — the generation for whom the work of J.G. Frazer

was enlightening — there was little objection to making comparisons bern;een the

prehistoric past and communities of so–called ‘primitive peoples’ that had survived

(by isolation) into the industrialized world. Today, it would be thought offensive and

misleading to describe, for example, the existence of Australian Aborigines around

1800 An as equivalenr to the Stnne Age. And yet the impulse to draw some analogies

between a surviving or documented society of hunter–gatherer~ and the hunter-gathe- ring

— 32 —

1 IF P,1RTH o r THE IMAGINATION

existence of people in the Palaeolithic past is difficult to resist, even if the distance is

measured not only across time, but also across continents. Just such a non-judgemental –

explanation by analogy has lately emerged, injecting fresh energy in to rhe debate about

the beginnings of humanity’s gift for representation. The theory comes from Africa,

and how it evolved is worth tracing in some detail.

The Drakensberg mountains are the main contours of southern Africa. To the east,

beyond a coastal plain, lies Durban; due north is Johannesburg and the interior plateau

or veldt; within the range, geologically, is the small, snow-topped – Kingdom ofLesorho.

Most of the Drakensberg peaks now belong to the province of KwaZulu–Natal. In and

around this area are many place-names – that resonate in South Africa’s modern history,

sites of conflict berween Boer settlers, British colonists and Zulu tribesmen: Spion Kop,

Ladysmith, Rorke’s Drift and more. But before the British, the Boers or the Zulus

impacted on this landscape, it had been long occupied by a people whose official place

in history is so uncertain that no one is quite sure what to call them. They used to he

referred to collectively as ‘Bushmen’; lately ‘rhe Sao· has been preferred. In fact, both

names have pejoram·e connotations, but since there is no ready alternative, we shall use

the term ‘Bushmen’ here, for the sake of convenience and without disrespect.

The Bushmen’s modes of hahirntion and subsistence in the Drakensberg changed

very little over thousands of years. The men hunted animals, using spears and arrows

tipped with poison; the women gathered plants, grasses and roots, with no other tool

than a weighted digging-stick. – Small communities moved from upland to lowland areas

as seasons changed, making use of natural shelters where available. Like other nomadic

peoples, the Drakensberg Bushmen needed very few possess10ns, so one might have

guessed that they left few traces of their presence in this territory. This is, indeed, the

case — except in the crags and cre\’ices of the sandstone escarpment there are thousands

of painted images.

Comparable in quantity to the rock art sitc::s of the Kakadu area in northern

Australia, the Bushmen paintings of the Drakensberg are not catalogued; unlike the

Kakadu images, they are entirely anonymous and impossible to date. Paintings done only

200 years ago may look brighter than work done 20,000 years earlier, and certain scenes

(such as men shown carrying guns) appear to be rcfcrc:nccs to the colonial intruders.

Essentially, howe\·er, the numerous images seem very similar and coherent within the

region, and similar to paintings left in some other places occupied by the Bushmen.

THE BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

These were not always recognized for what they were. In 1918 climbers exploring

the Rrandberg Massif (of modern Namibia) came across rock paintings in a certain

ra\ine. Coloured copies were duly made and shown some years larer to Henri Breuil,

then attending a conference in Johannesburg. The Abbe pronounced that no indigenous

people had made these images, hut foreigners of’Nilotic-Mediterranean – origin’ —

perhaps emigres from Bronze Age Crete, whose style seemed apparent in a particular

figure duhbed by Breuil as the ‘W.hite T ,ady’. Ir has since transpired that this figure is

male, and typical Bushman work; but to upholders of the apartheid system — whereby

white and black people in South Africa were kept apart — Breuil’s verdict was welcome

proof that the earliest inhahitants of this land had been Europeans. The notion was

so pleasing to the country’s colonial administrators that, during the Second World War,

they gave academic refuge to Breuil in Johannesburg — sponsored by none other than

the country’s premier,j.C. Smurs.

Breu il’s preposterou~ gloss of the ‘White Lady’ is perhaps sufficiem indication of

how little specialist attention wa~ de”oted to the images left by the Bushmen — images that

were, of course, gradually fading from modern view. The neglect more or lc::ss persisred

until the early 1960s, when a young local schoolmaster started to explore the Drakensberg

paintings more studiously. His name was David Lewis-Williams, – and what began as

a teacher’s pastime led first to a doctorate, then a professorial chair, and ultimately a

dedicated Rock An Institute (at the University ofWitwatersrand in Johannesburg).

The conspicuous subjects of Bushmen paintings throughout the Drakensberg

are animals ( Fig. 11) . Often enough it seems there is a scene in which some four-legged –

prey, such as an antelope, is surrounded by figures armed with bows or spears. Casual

viewers might readily suppose that these were characteristic reflections of daily life

among the Bushmen, to whom hunting was supremely important (their disputes with

the settlers arose mosrly from access to game or cattle raiding). Bue, as Lewis-Williams –

showed, one does not have to look very hard at the Drakensberg paintings hefore

realizing that these depictions of hunting are not so straightforward as that. Some of the

human figures, on closer examination, appear to have hoofs for feet, and animal heads.

Other figures. seemingly realistic at first glance, have their necks represented in lines

of many white stipples. A certain large sort of antelope, the eland, did indeed appear

often and prominently in the paintings. Rut the Bushmen had many other sources of

food, four-legged – or not. Why so much emphasis upon the eland? As for rhese hybrid

— 34 —

11 (above) A scene from the
main frieze ofthe Game Pass

Shelter. Kamberg, South Africa.

Date uncertain.

12 (right) A drawing of a detail
from the main frieze of the

Game Pass Shelter. showing a

dying eland and a figure with

hooves and an animal head.

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

human-animal – figures — therianthrop1c is the official descriptive term for them — why

were some of them appearing to snatch at an eland’s t;ciil?

Lewis-Williams – aired all these queries, which arose from interpreting the

Drakensberg images as scenes of everyday life among the Bushmen. He was also aware

that while hunter-gathering – peoples may seem, in Western eyes, to be leading remarkably

simple lives, at one with nature, anthrnpological research invariably demonstrated

otherwise. Hunter-gatherers – around the \’l.’Orld tended to organize their lives around

very precise and prescriptive systems of ritual and supernatural belief. Why presume

any less of me Bushmen?

Answers to questions abnut the meaning of the Drakensberg images would, naturally,

lie with the Bushmen who painted chem. Despite near–genocide in the past, and the more

recent imposition of horders and pas1,ports, Bushmen have survived in the Kalahari

Desert, especially in parts of Bomvana and northwest Namibia. But the problem for rnose

trying tn track down the meaning of Bushman art is that since their displacement from the

Drakensberg to the Kalahari over a century ago, the Bushmen have not been able to sustain

the artistic tradition. The Kalahari is a very different terrain from the Drakensberg: it

offers few rock surfaces or shelters suitable for painting. What did persist among the

Kalahari Bushmen, however, was a powerful strand of religious practice and belief thar

could he connected to previous images; also, the rare testimony of Bushmen voices

recorded during the nineteenth century and kept in an archive at Cape Town. Combining

these two sources, Lewis-Williams – was able to make a convincing case that the thousands

of Bushmen images in the Drakensberg were far from being scenes of daily life; rather ,

they belonged to the surreal experience of minds and bodies in a state of ecstasy.

An eland is in the rhroes of death (Fig. 12): its head hangs heavy; its dewlap — the

thick fold of skin below the neck — is sagging; and its hind legs are crossed. The Bushmen

say that the crossed hind legs of the eland are a clear sign of poisoned darts taking effect.

Here, however, we notice something else The therianthropic figure holding the eland ‘s

1ail in one hand, and a spear in the other, appears to ha\’e h£s legs crossed too. H e has an

animal’s head and hoofs. Can it be, then, that he is also dying? If so, is he a figure who

not only connects between the realms of human and animal, but who also interacts

between the Jiving and the dead?

Transcripcs of Rushman beliefs and practices point to the reality of just such a

figure in the person of a shaman: a senior individual esteemed as a healer, a rain-maker, –

36

THE BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

an inspiration for the hunt, and someone with access to the spirit world. This is not only

the stuff of archives: to this day, shamans exist among the Kalahari Rushmen. Being

good-natured – about visits from inquisitive researchers, tourists and film crews alike, the

Bushmen have repeatedly confirmed the central significance of shamanic rituals to their

society. Bushman shamans have their own metaphoric ways of recounting how they

experience their connection with the supernatural; they speak in terms of being stretched

on ropes, lines or threads to an almighty creator or some netherworld of ancestors. But

(again thanks to an open disposition on the part of those concerned) it is also possible

to witness a ‘trance dance’, in which a Bushman shaman performs.

This was how it happened in a small kraal or village not far from Tsumkwe in

northwest Namibia. At dusk a fire was lit, around which the women of the village, with

their infants, sat in a circle. They began to set up a rhythm of chanting and clapping.

Various of their menfolk were around, including the aged headman of the village; some

began to tread around the circle, humming along with the songs. The star of the show

THE BLEEK AND LLOYD ARCHIVE

DEFINED BY one anthropologist as ‘the ‘ the archive kept at the Un,versity of Cape Town.

harmiess people’, ‘ the Bt.,shmen communities Others, however. provide a nch verbatim account

of southern Africa were persecuted throughout of hunting techn ques, stargazing. medicine and so

the nineteenth century by white sett lers and Bartu on. It s from this record that we comprehend the

pastoralists alike. Many were exterminated; some centrality of ritual in the lives of the Bus1men.

were kep, as convicts in Cape Town. It was among Christian m,ss1onaries thought them irreligious

these pr soners that Wilhelm Bl eek ( 1827 –75) On the contrary. the fT’0st powerful figures in any

did his research. Bleek was a philolog1st, with a Bushman clan were its spiritual leaders, its ritual

primary inte’est in the clicking language of the specialists. They have their ow,, local titles: to term

Bushmen. Aided by his sister–in–law Lucy Lloyd. he them ‘shamans· ‘ is, for the sake of converience. at

fil led numerous notebooks with transcript ans of 1east preferable to ”witch doctors’. ‘ Whatever we call

interviews covering al i aspects of Bushman life and these elders, the Bleek and Lloyd papers suggest

folklore. Alas, two notebooks carrying information that they were very likely to have been :he artists of

about Bushman pair.ting are listed as m·ss1f1g from the Drakensberg and other Bushman-painted – sites.

— 37 —

13 A Bushman dance at a village near Tsumkwe. northwest Namibia, ,n the summer of 2004.

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

then arrived: a diminutive, sinewy old man, wearing only a loincloth and a set of rattles

about his ankles. He now led the stamping around the circle; and for the next two hours

or so he hardly paused as lord of the dance. Sometimes he reached for the heads of those

sitting down, as if to transmit some of his energy to them. Occasionally, he staggered

away into the shadows, doubled up and gasping for breath; at one point, while weaving

across the circle, he fell into the fire and had to be pulled out: sand was heaped over him

to cool him down. Some of the women rose up and followed him. There was no

weariness from them in clapping and singing. It seemed the ceremony could go on as

long as the fire glowed under the stars (Fig. 13).

It is in such situations that a shaman can go imo an ‘altered state of consciousness’.

Physically, this manifests itself in various ways: loss of balance, stomach cramps,

hyperventilation and nosebleeds. Mentally, it can lead to hallucinations, the intense

visionary experience of travelling out of body into strange yet connncing places. No one

could draw or paint while in the midst of this sort of emorional seizure. But revealing

or recalling what had come imo vision during an altered state of consciousness .. . that

would be truly marvellous, and proof, as it \Vere, of the shaman’s special status.

For several decades now, David Lewis–Williams has argued the case that the

thousands of Bushman images left in the Drakensberg are best explained as ‘shamanic’ :

directly derived from the hallucinatory experiences of shamans while in an altered state

of consciousness. There are, to begin with, clear signs that physiological effects of tl1e

trance dance are depicted: figures doubled up with abdominal spasms; figures with red

lines (blood ) streaming from their noses. The marked elongation of many figures may

reflect the reported sensation of being stretched.

Rock surfaces, such as the Game Pass Sheher, became interfaces between reality

and the spirit world, on which the imagery of the trance was recorded and displayed.

To call these interfaces ‘membranes’ is not inappropriate. Figures of animals might

emerge from cracks in the stone (as they do), and placing a hand upon the stone, too,

might give some sense of its potent access ro the domain of spirits and ancestors.

No summary matches the eloquence with which L ewis-William- s has pursued

and published this theory: we may simply state here that many experts worldwide accept

it. Anthropologically, it is not an isolated or eccentric phenomen on. Parallels can be

drawn, for instance, benveen the Bushman shamans and those among various indigenous

tribes of North America, such as the Yokuts and Numic of California, whose use

— 39 – –

H F BIRTH OF T I—- E IM /•.GI NtCIOI’.

of hallucinogenic substances can be traced in petroglypl1s (rock markings) left in sites

of sacred significance Evidence also suggests that shamam or ‘clever men’ among

the Aboriginal communities of northern Australia played a particular role in creating

the millennia-old – imagery of thar region. European colonists may have dismissed it

all as so much mumbo-jumbo, – although the} were happy to accept stories (and images)

of a man who could cure lepers with his touch and undergo an agonizing death

without dying .

What, hmvever, ha5 this to do with the cave-paintings – of Europe in the Upper

Palaeolithic period?

THE NF LJROPSYC: 1″‘1010GICAL MODEL

Readers may already haYe guessed the next move in the Lewis-Williams – argument. It is

not to suggest that Bushmen, Native Americans and Australian Aborigines are wlturall_, .

comparahle to people of the Stone Age, but to point out that all anatomically modern

humans — including those of the Palaeolithic — share a brain that is hard-wired – (pre­­

programmed) in a certain way. What occurs within this brain when we enter an altered

state of consciousness is therefore predictable — a common human experience, as like!)

to have the same visual and visible effects today as it would haYe done 35 ,000 years ago.

There are many ways of inducing the ahered state of consciousness: drugs,

dancing, darkness, exhaustion. hunger, meditation, migraine and schizophrenia are

among them. In the Western tradition it is by no means confined to hippies and a fashion

for the mind-expanding – substance known as LSD. Opium takers of the Romantic

period, notably the English writers Thomas De Quincev and Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

were generous in pro\·iding \’erbal descriptions of their visions. And in our own times

sc1ent1srs ha\’e disco\’ered simple procedures of sensmy deprivation that enable research

into the brain ‘s function when it comes to seeing things ‘. The research goes on, but

already it is clear that the human nervous system exhibits certain features of response

that can be generalized — prm·iding , for archaeologists. 3 so-called – neuropsychrilogical

model fur explaining the \ erJ- beginnings of symbolic representation.

!vligraine sufferers do not need to be reminded of the fact that , even in a completely

darkened room, and with their eves firmly shut, they are persecuted by flashing lights.

It is a common symptom of an altered state of consciousness: the sensation of brightness,

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

often framed in kaleidoscopic patterns — dots, lozenges, blocks, appearing in multiple

units as netvlOrks, tessellations and suchlike. These patterns may be construed as cercain

objects in the world — a spider’s web, or a honeycomb. In addition, the subject of an

altered stare of consciousness may feel that he or she is airborne, or in water, or plunging

through some vortex or tunnel. Patterns slide one into another, and shapes are fluently

transformed; in some hypnagogic (half-asle- ep) or dreaming moods we may see animals

appear: to follow Shakespeare’s phrasing, we will think a cloud to be very like a whale,

or mistake a bush fm· a bear.

What characterizes all these sensations is how vivid they are. The nightmare victim

wakes with a scream; the LSD addict maims himself terribly, convinced that his fingers

are extending over the windowsill and on to the road outside. No external reality is there.

Our reaction is entirely to what we see without any direct perception of the world around

us. Such images have been termed as entoptic, ‘within the eye’.

The Lewis-Wi- lliams hypothesis, then, is nor just that Palaeolithic cave-painting –

was shamanic or shamanistic in origin. It is even more momentous; suggesting that the

human knack of representational imagery was itself initially triggered by this

neuropsychological process. In other words, the Palaeolithic painters were not making

observations of the world around them; they were transferring on to cave walls the

images they already had behind their eyes. They were displaying what had come to them

in an altered state of consciousness; recollecting powerful visions; trying to recapture

what they had seen in their hallucinations — even when these had flashed by as a series

of abstract patterns (Fig. 14).

The acceptance of this model does nae reduce all other cave-paintin- g theories to

nonsense. In societies where shamans are or ,vere esteemed as authorities — including not

only the Bushmen and other groups already mentioned, but also the Inuit or ‘Eskimos’

of Canada, tribes of Amazonian South America, and nomadic societies of Siberia, where

the t.erm ‘shaman’ originates — shamans claim power from and over animals. The trance

dance of the Bushmen may celebrate a successful hunt, or serve to bring good fortune

to an imminent expedition; either way, then, a measure of ‘hunting magic’ is implied by

the shaman’s central role. From shamanic lore, too, it is evident that certain animals

can be invested with extraordinary power and significance. (For the Bushmen, the eland

has such special status.) Siberian shamans would say that their souls were entrusted

to animal guardians, or chiim some personal familiar or daemon in four-legged – form.

— 41 —

— … -•

,. –

14 Abstraci: ~l'”‘e Mar< rgs ,n -:.,e CuevJ. : ~ ;i Pil~;i Ancfah,r,.:i, Spiiin, r; 13.000 :l-:~Sue~ rrn-;rk•1~ ::1:.: lyp,,al of ~.1tc.,ptic pa.t.eM£ gere.'::.ted wthin :l'e m 1d CJr r.g Jfl a tere: !..ate o' CC"IS<: ousreS$.

BIRTH O F THE IMAGINATION

So it may be right to suppose that certam animals possess symbolic value, full of luck and

fertility, regardless of whether they feature as regular prey. But can we claim that

. hamans existed in prehistory?

‘Let me tell you how I became a lion. It was a good dance several years ago . . .

I felt the pull of the fire .. . and danced while staring at it . . . I saw the fire become

very large .. . I saw a lion in it. I trembled when I looked at it. Then the lion

opened its mouth and swallowed me. The next thing I remember seeing was the

lion spitting out another lion. That other lion was me. I felt the energy of the lion

and TOared with great authority. The power scared the people.’

The recorded experience of a modern Bushman shaman while m an altered state

of consciousness may directly illuminate, by analogy, several three-dimensional – images

discovered in the Jura region, the mountainous borderland between Switzerland

and France. They evidently served as pendants or amulets, and their form is

therianthropic — with the bodies of humans and the heads oflions (Fig. 15). The

material from which they were made is of an animal source — the tusk of a mammoth.

At the risk of bemg over-fanciful, – we might say tl1at the images were ‘spat out’ from

me mammoth.

A number of caves contain paintings or engravings mat seem to show hybrids

of humans and animals, or human figures with animal masks and attributes. At Chauvet,

for example, there is depicted a composite creature made up of a bison’s head and

body, and a pair of human legs. Is mis some kind of minotaur or, as the discoverers of the

cave preferred to call it, a sorcerer? Abbe Breuil had used me same term for an antlered,

furry figure with human legs and feet among ilie images in a recess of the cave complex

known as Les Trois Freres, in the French Pyrenees. Since it is well documented that

much shamanic practice worldwide expresses itself in just such animal guise, me

temptation to suppose that shamans operated in Palaeolithic Europe is hard to resist.

Hard to resist, and hard to prove. Conceptually, however, shamanism offers a

persuasive route towards the neuropsychological model. The image of a lion-man – was

fashioned because it had been vi\’idly imagined during an altered state of consciousness.

The onus is upon sceptics to produce a more plausible alternative explanation. So far,

none has been formcoming.

— 43 —

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

FROM ART TO AGRICULTURE

The cave-paintings – atAltamira were once disbelieved because they seemed too ‘early’.

In turn, archaeologists who accepted the earliness of such cave-paintings – were faced with

a problem of succession. In Europe, at least, the practice of painring in caves apparently

came to an end abour 12,000 years ago. We know that the emergence, several thousand

years later, of the great ci\’ilizations in Egypt, Mesopotamia and the Indus Valley, was

accompanied by an increasing use of, even reliance upon, the symbolic resource of images:

this hook makes further reference to that process in due course (see, for example,

page 61). Rut in the meantime, what happened to the human ability to create images?

Until recently, there was no satisfactory answer to that question. 1t was possible,

admittedly, to claim that in some parts of the world — notably Australia — the habits

of representation that commenced about 40,000 years ago never lapsed. But this was

impossible to prove. In terms of archaeologically stratified evidence, a definite gap

existed, between tl1e end of the Old Stone Age (the Palaeolithic) and the early phases

of the New Stone Age (the Neolithic). Then a certain hilltop in southern Turkey

disclosed its secret.

T he Turkish–Kurdish town of Urfa ( or Sanliurfa), near the Syrian border, is

touristically billed as ‘historic’. Here Abraham, the patriarch of the second millennium BC,

venerated by Jews, Christians and Muslims alike, is supposed to have sojourned on his

way from the city of Ur to the land of Canaan. Rut it now transpires that religious

activity around Urfa pre-dates – Abraham by thousands of years.

An archaeological survey in the 1960s observed in the hills around Urfa a particular

site where several knolls of reddish earth arose from a limestone plateau. These knolls,

and the rocky area nearby, were covered in the debris of flint-knapping – — the flakes

and chips of flint left by the prehistoric manufacture of tools and weapons. Some large

man-made – slabs of stone were also noticed, hut assumed to be of much later date than

the Neolithic debris. No further investigation was carried out until 1994, when Klaus

Schmidt of the German Archaeological Institute visited me site and established that the

knolls were not natural, bur part of an artificial hill, heaped as a prominent mark in the

local landscape. With experience of other sites in tl1is ancient area of Upper Mesopotamia,

Schmidt was immediately able to classify the site as a lepe or mound, datable to the early

Neolithic phase before the use of ceramics (sometimes referred to as the Pre-Pott- ery

— 44 —

15 A lion–man statuette from Hohleste1n-Stadel. – south west Germany

c. 32– 30,000 BC. possibly used as a pendant or an amulet.

‘ –

16 (top) Aerial v,ew of a stone c, rel e at Gobekli Tepe, Turkey, c. 9000 BC

17 (abo~e) Animal detail — probably a fox– from GobeJ

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

Neolithic). He also suspected that the limestone slabs on this hill — henceforth known

as Gobekli Tepe — belonged to some large prehistoric structure.

Digging imo the mound not only confirmed Schmidt’s intuitions, but revealed

a dimension of Pre-Ponery – Neolithic that no one expected.

The excavations at Gobekli Tepe are ongoing, with scope for more surprises.

What has come to light so far is a series of walled enclosures, of which about 20 are

built around massive stone pillars set in a circle (Fig. 16). Two separate pillars occupy the

centres of these circles. Each of the pillars is fashioned out of solid rock into a T-shape –

about 7 metres (23 feet) tall . Rectangular carved doorways once provided marked

or tunnelled access to the enclosures, and in the floor of one circle a small inset basin

has been found, with an anached channel — possibly, as the excavator suggests, for the

collection of blood. Food was consumed here, as indicated by many animal bones,

but nowhere on the hillside are there signs of domestic habitation. So this was not, it

seems, a place where people li\’ed, but rather a special assembly point — some kind

of sanctuary in the mountains that attracted people from a radius of settlements some

80 kilometres (50 miles) or further afield .

Like other prehistoric monuments, such as Stonehenge in Britain and the menhirs

of France, GobekliTepe retains an enigmatic sense of unfathomed r itual significance.

But not only is it much earlier than Stonehenge — by 7000 years — it is also much

different in one key respect. The \Yell-trimmed – pillars of Gobekli Tepe are not just

megaliths (big stones) . They are decoraced– embellished with images either engraved on

to the surface or else picked out in shallow relief (Fig. 17) .

It may come as no surprise that the principal subjects of this decoration are, once

again, animals. Foxes and snakes dominate the repertoire, but gazelle, aurochs, wild

boar, wild ass, cranes and a lion also feature . Spiders, too, are shown. In addition one

block carries the image of a woman squatting in a sexual posture, though this may be

of later date.

The pillars themselyes appear schematically anthropomorphic or human-shaped, –

the shaft standing for legs and rnrso, the T-bar – equating to shoulders and head. Carved

arms are added to one of them, as 1f to confirm the intention. This in turn encourages the

presumption that the images ser\’e to harness forms of wildlife whose power belongs tn

these pillar-figures, – or perhaps protects them. The foxes bare their teeth, the tusks of the

boar are pronounced, and the snakes have been identified as venom-loaded – \·ipers.

— ◄7 —

BIRTi. CF Tr-1E IMAG N AT ION

The possibility that the decoration of the pillars at GobekJi Tepe is shamanic has

heen seriously considered by the excavators. Rut, as they point out, the scale of

structural enterprise at this site points to a society in which ritual was mediated not so

much by shamans as by ‘true priests’. The images, after all, were the ultimate phase,

or finishing touches at least, to what had been a massive collective effort. At a small

distance away from the main ‘temple’ area is the natural limestone amphitheatre from

which the pillars were quarried. In the upper reaches of this quarry there i~ a marked

ca\’ity left by the removal of one T-shaped – pillar much larger than any so far brought

to light at the site; and right next to this space is a stone of similar size abandoned

in a cracked and therefore unfinished state. Had it been successfully removed from the

bedrock, it would have measured some 6 metres {20 feet) , and weighed about 50 tonnes

To shift it across to the mound would have required the combined traction power of

about 500 people.

Given that the mound itself i~ man–made, built from thousands of tonnes of earth

and rock brought up from the plain below, we are bound to 5peculate that the measure of

human organization required to build Gobekli Tepe was some way towards that required

to build the Egyptian pyramids. Gobekli Tepe, in the words of its exca\’ators, therefore

stands at ‘the dawn of a new world. ::i world with powerful rulers and a complex, stratifiecl,

hierarchical society’ .

So this is a maJor revelation from current archaeology; and unlike the fir,t ‘reveal’

of Altamira , it causes true wonder, not ciishelief. And for thosP who like to regard art

as an optional luxury in life, a pastime to be indulged only when the necessary business

of survival and subsistence has been completed, Gdbekli Tepe offers a particular

challenge — with which we shall conclude .

For more than half a century, archaeologists have agreed that farming — the keeping

of domesticated animals and the cultivation of crops — began in the Near East during the

early ]’..;eolithic period, c. 9000 BC. Sheep and goats were the principal animals featuring

in this agricultural revolution, while wheat and barley were the principal crops. Key sites

providing evidence for animal enclosures and domesticated grains include Jarmo, in

northern Iraq; <;::atalhuyiik, in western Turkey; and Jericho, in Palestine. The Jordan valley

and the reaches of Upper Mesopotamia have also yielded specific clues regarding the

transition from nomadic hunting and gathering to settled farming. The debate then arises

about which came first: a demographic shift to settled communities, lead mg to a reliance

BIRTH OF THE IMAGINATION

upon farming for food, or the intensive exploitation of certain livestock and cereals,

leading to settled communities?

In the book of Genesis, the change occurs as a direct consequence of the expulsion

of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. The sons of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel,

are specified as a tiller of the soil and a shepherd respectively, fulfilling God’s edict that

mortals should henceforth survive ‘by the sweat of their brow’. Gobekli Tepe raises an

alternative possibility — that what instigated the first production of food was art.

About 30 kilometres (20 miles) south from Gobekli Tepe lies the Karacadag range.

Research among these hills has shown that they are home to the closest wild relative of an

early species of domesticated grain, einkorn wheat. The suggestion is that wild grain was

brought from the Karacadag, and cultivated around Gobekli Tepe in order to feed all the

hundreds of people building or simply frequenting the site.

So there is the momentous conclusion: that some 11,000 years ago imagery had

become so powerful in the minds of human beings that it helped to bring about the

greatest transformation in human history.

— 49 —

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