Venus Figurines Research Articles

Red, black or white? The dawn of colour symbolism

In this paper the use of the pigments in the Paleolithic is presented, and some ideas of the symbolic meaning of colours are suggested. The colour red might have been a symbol of transformation, and as such, it was used in burials and for painting the Venus figurines. In the Slovenian Paleolithic, there is scant evidence of importance of colour and only a few finds of stones used for the grinding of the red pigment have been found.

The Venus figurines

I read with interest the recent letter by entitled “Obesity, Hippocrates and Venus of Willendorf” [1] and wished to add some comments about the interpretation of the group of figures termed collectively “Venus figurines”. Found throughout Upper Paleolithic Europe, the so-called “Venus figurines”, of which the Willendorf Venus is a famous example, are frequently represented as corpulent or pregnant female figures, though they exist in many shapes and sizes and in small numbers, male. While it may be reasonable, as some scholars have, to interpret the images as an early depiction of obesity, myriad interpretations abound as to the meaning and function of the figurines.

Foreword: A Sense of Place

Foreword:A Sense of Place Speer Morgan The start of our twenty-ninth year is marked by the beginning of The Missouri Review as a quarterly and by the winners of the Jeffrey E. Smith Editors' Prize. The winners in all of the genres—poetry, nonfiction and fiction—are all first-time publications. This hasn't happened in sixteen years of the contest, which confirms what we have lately suspected—that, if anything, there's an increasing amount of writing talent waiting to be discovered in this country today. Interestingly, two of the contest winners are writing from experiences that they had as Peace Corps volunteers. In her essay "Obedience," Erica Bleeg struggles to understand differences between cultural attitudes in Africa and America. Joanna Luloff's story "Let Them Ask" is about not just Sri Lankan culture but also the cruelty and sincerity of childhood, as school girls turn against one of their own for not maintaining a feminine mask. Shimon Tanaka's story "Favor" concerns the miracle and idiosyncrasies of a lifelong friendship, to some extent paralleling [End Page 9] the oddity of existence itself—with its obligations and not wholly pleasant chance and circumstance. In his memoir "If You Could See Me Now," taken from an upcoming book of the same title, to be published by Unbridled Books, Michael Mewshaw tells the fascinating story of a complicated early love and of the woman's choice to put up an illegitimate child (by another man) for adoption. In later life, the mother served in public roles, including that of a presidential adviser, and the daughter would seek out her parents. This issue also includes James Schiff's excellent interview with Jonathan Lethem, author of books including The Fortress of Solitude, Girl in Landscape, and Motherless Brooklyn, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award. Lethem reveals his lack of confidence as a young author, his commitment to learn how to write, as well as discussing his choice to work in an experimental style that bends and conflates fantasy, absurdist and pop writing. "The Cosmic Uroboros" by Joel R. Primack and Nancy Ellen Abrams, taken from their upcoming book A View from the Center of the Universe (to be published by Riverhead Books) is about today's cosmology, which they depict as surprisingly graspable and established. Primack is one of the scientists behind "Cold Dark Matter" theory, one of the central ideas in current observational and theoretical cosmology. Among the intriguing points the authors make is that while at times we may imagine ourselves to be specks in a too-vast-to-comprehend universe, humans are in fact fortunate winners in scale, being exactly the "right" size. One of the major themes of this prize issue is winning not money or power but, more importantly, a sense of place and belonging. Understanding where one is, fitting in, finding roles, connecting with others and with the rest of nature—these are primordial themes not just in literature but in all of art. Recently I was reading about the history of archaeological ideas concerning the earliest significant bodies of art, the portable and cave art of the Paleolithic Period. Early theorists portrayed such art as a way of thinking and feeling visually about the world and about nature, a kind of "doodling" about humans and their relationships to the rest of nature. Later theories became more complex, describing early human art as the possible tools of shamanism, initiation, religion and social organization. Interestingly, several recent archaeologists and anthropologists are effectively going back to a modified early view, saying that while we may surmise social or religious uses in some cases, there simply [End Page 10] isn't enough evidence to support meaningful conclusions. For example, fifteen- to twenty-five-thousand-year-old Venus figurines have been found in widely dispersed places in Europe. Given their typically enlarged breasts and bellies, it is reasonable to speculate that they have something to do with fertility or reproduction. But disagreement about what the figurines represent, as well as contemporary awareness of the surprising variety in human behavior and ideas, makes today's anthropologists wary about casually declaring that the Venus figurines are the tools of...

Art and medicine 2: Pethidine by Dr Matthew Clark

This curvaceous carving in English lime on Pacific koa wood (16 × 6 cm) won second prize last July in the Brooke Epidemiology Art Prize, arranged jointly by the Section of Epidemiology & Public Health and the Medical Art Society. But why the title Pethidine and how did it fit with the theme of inequalities chosen for the 2003 prize? Dr Clark's commentary on the work explains: 'Earlier this year I became a father. My knowledge of childbirth before this had been rather limited. Other than a couple of mandatory deliveries during an obstetrics attachment as a student, my main experiences had come from a medical elective in Papua New Guinea. In that country, the limited medical resources are complemented by traditional 'alternative' medical beliefs. While working in Wewak General Hospital on the North coast, my wife and I were continually amazed by the tenacity and toughness of the local women giving birth. Often they had walked for days to reach the hospital, and the maternity ward was a simple wooden building kitted out with little more than unmattressed metal beds lined against one wall. Running above these, so that it was within reach, was a long metal pole. Its function became clear. It was the pain relief. The hospital had such a limited supply of drugs that pain relief for women in labour was considered frivolous. Instead, the pole was gripped tightly by way of distraction and childbirth progressed with the slightest fuss or noise. Our recent experience here in the UK showed us how different the process can be. There was a bombardment of choice—various analgesics, alternative therapies, TENS machines, aromatherapy and calming music, to name but a few. In memory of our PNG experiences, I carved Pethidine. Its shape is designed to fit comfortably into the grip of the hand, with the thumb in the curve of the back. Thus, it could perform the function of the pole from the PNG maternity ward. And when my wife, at the height of labour, screamed for the pethidine, I could turn to the midwife with a knowing smile and say that what she really wanted was my sculpture to grip'. In the event, Dr Clark did not pursue this 'tongue in cheek' pain-relieving option for his wife's labour. His real aim was to show, in this sculpture, the contrast in care between the two cultures, neatly symbolized by the use of both English and Pacific woods. The design also draws on Venus figurines and prehistoric palaeolithic carvings thought to be symbols of fertility.

The Iodine Factor in Health and Evolution

Iodine is essential for modern humans and may have been essential for Neandertals as well. Today about 30 percent of the world's population is at risk of iodine deficiency disorders (idd), 750 million people suffer from goiter, 43 million have idd‐related brain damage and mental retardation, and 5.7 million are afflicted by cretinism, the most severe form of idd. Distinctive Neandertal skeletal traits are identical to those of modern humans who suffer from cretinism. Cro‐Magnon Venus figurines also exhibit distinctive traits associated with cretinism among modern humans. This new evidence, coupled with recent mitochondrial dna findings, suggests that a single genetic alteration, which improved the ability of the thyroid gland to extract and utilize iodine, may account for differences between Neandertals and modern humans. Late Pleistocene human evolution, consequently, may be explained by several alternative interpretations involving iodine pathology and/or biological adaptation. Speciation may have resulted from the geographical isolation of inland populations.

Can We Interpret Figurines?

Figurines—miniature human representations modelled in clay or stone — are one of those key categories of prehistoric material which no archaeologist who finds one can ignore. Whether working in central America or southeast Europe, or in any of the many other contexts in which figurines abound, they form a central class of material which generates a heightened level of interest and attention. But however numerous and how-ever intriguing, prehistoric figurines have another crucial quality — that of ambiguity. Without the help of textual evidence, can prehistoric figurines be confidently interpreted or understood? Can we ever hope to know what an individual figurine was meant to represent, or why it was modelled in the way it was? Yet the challenge of interpretation can hardly be refiised. For figurines illustrate self-awareness, which is a unique human characteristic. It is this dilemma — the impulse to interpret, but the difficulty of doing so convincingly — which is the focus of the present Viewpoint.Figurines are found in many (though not all) regions and periods of prehistory. The earliest — the female forms once referred to as ‘Venus figurines’ — date back to the Upper Palaeolithic. At the other end of the scale, figurines are still in active production today, in the form of dolls, models and statues. In a prehistoric context, figurines have multiple dimensions of interest and meaning. In first place, there is the issue of sex and gender. Many figurines are clearly female, yet their gender significance, in both social and cognitive terms (rather than in simplistic notions of Mother Goddess or sex object), has only recently begun to be considered in a serious and critical way. Then there is the aspect of human self-awareness which the figurines so vibrantly express. Figurines also encode important cognitive elements in the modelling and representation of the human form, their makers frequently exaggerating some features or concealing others. Nor, ultimately, can we avoid the question of belief, and the ritual context in which so many figurines were made or used.The contributors to this Viewpoint feature all believe that figurines can indeed be interpreted. But they also lay stress on the vital importance of context and definition. Prehistoric figurines cannot be understood as isolated artefacts, but must be seen as products of particular societies. How far we can penetrate into their meanings — and into the minds of their prehistoric makers — is the fundamental question which underpins this discussion. Can we interpret figurines? And if so, how should we go about it?

Diversity of the Upper Paleolithic “Venus Figurines and Archeological Mythology”

Meanings attributed to Upper Paleolithic female figurines in the past have been based on the assumption that they are all alike in important ways. Attention is called here to the diversity of the figurines, and possible alternative interpretations.

Identification of hallucinatory themes in the Late Neolithic art of Hungary.

A number of factors that coalesced in the Venus figurines of the Late Neolithic culture from Hungary have been identified with dominant hallucinatory themes, suggesting the crucial role of ecstatic religion in this culture. This article provides a review of the nature and role of hallucinogens in the ecstatic religion of contemporary and historical cultures in order to establish a background for analysis. Analysis of these Late Neolithic artifacts indicates the presence of a number of themes associated with hallucinogen use: the presence of iconographic elements similar to eidetic forms; the use of red color; anthropo- and theriopomorphic figurines in seated postures; and specific patterns of breakage with disposal. The discussion illuminates the crucial features as well as the role and significance of these factors in ecstatic cults.

Prehistoric Venuses: Symbols of Motherhood or Womanhood?

Upper Paleolithic Venus figurines are traditionally explained as symbols glorifying female fertility. This study suggests the hypothesis that Venuses represent women throughout their entire adult life, not just when they are pregnant; therefore, it is womanhood rather than motherhood that is symbolically recognized or honored. First an estimate is made of the age group (pre-childbearing, reproductive, post-childbearing) of each of the 188 extant Venuses. Contemporary hunter-gatherers are then used to estimate the age structure of Upper Paleolithic groups. A comparison of the proportions of both Venuses and contemporary hunter-gatherer women estimated to be in the three reproduction-related age groups results in statistically significant support for the womanhood hypothesis. Motivations for sculpting the figurines, and their functions, are suggested by considering the probable economic, social, and reproductive roles of Paleolithic women.

Jim Stark: Sculpture

Sculpture has always been the characteristic medium of artistic expression of all that is archetypical and elemental in human form. From the Venus figurines of pre-history, through the semi-divine and heroic statues of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, the figures of Sluter and Michelangelo, and the modern works of Maillol, Lachaise, and Henry Moore, sculpture has served as the essential vehicle for statements about the basic expressive properties of corporeal form. No matter what the illusionistic capabilities of graphic representation, the sculptural form has never been displaced in its directness of association with the primal and magical: the mask, idol, totem, and amulet are all works of sculpture. The sculpture of Jim Stark is, above all, an exploration of the qualities of the fundamental forms of nature. Stark's forms are primarily anthropomorphous, but animal and vegetal forms are also to be found, sometimes simultaneously. Stark's real subject matter is biomorphic form the forms of life.