It's December: into the caves
Cave temples, cave churches, and cave art that sings
Every winter I find myself back in the caves. It’s not a conscious decision, but at some point they just arrive in my mind. For a number of years, that meant returning to my books, images and ideas about Ajanta; caves which I had never been to but which had haunted my imagination for decades.
The first example I ever saw of a cave temple being carved into a hill was an image of the temple at Ellora, in Maharashtra, India. I could scarcely believe that humans had carved this by hand from one enormous rock.

For a while I was fascinated by the shapes of the cave temple ground plans, cut deep into the rock. I traced their outlines, played with them; made them interact with related and unrelated things.
There are cave temples like this all over India; Hindu, Buddhist and Jain.
Later I found out about cave churches. The ones that first caught my imagination were those in Ethiopia, some of which can only be reached by scaling a sheer rock face.
There are cave churches in Armenia:
and Cappadocia, Turkey:
There are also churches that have been set up in more recent times in caves, such as this one, the Callao cave, in the Phillipines:
Perhaps the most surprising to me were churches that have been actually constructed inside caves; this one at Perigord in France…
…and this one in Valadier, La Marche, Italy:
Caves have provided refuge from the weather and wild animals, from persecution, and from the temptations of the world, for as long as we can see back in time. They’ve been used not only for solitary retreat, but also for larger group rituals and devotional practices. Richard Lannoy, who I discussed in my essay on South Indian mural painting, speculates about practices that he believes may have taken place in caves such as Elephanta in India, and the effects he imagines being created by hallucinogens, flickering candles and sonic effects.
I’ve often wondered if there was any actual evidence that pointed towards what he describes. A recent article in the New Scientist, however, suggests that not only does it seem likely that sound would have been part of early cave ritual practices all over the world, but that visual art in prehistoric caves is often located in parts of the cave that have unusual sound-enhancing capacities.
Apparently this is an idea that was first suggested decades ago, which has only gradually been supported by more research.
‘The oldest painted sites have this low, strange resonance, where if you sing, suddenly the cave sings back at you’…
The Artsoundscapes project leaves little doubt that prehistoric artists deliberately painted in places where echoes, resonance, and sound transmission created otherworldly sonic effects… ‘Before the paintings there was barely any reverberation, but as soon as we reached the paintings, the sound changed immediately’.
Steve Waller at the American Rock Art Research Association… recorded echoes of up to 31 decibels at some decorated spots in deep caves in France, while unpainted walls were acoustically dead.
New Scientist, 22nd November, 2025
Ancient paintings made on mysteriously echoing, reverberating walls of underground caves… I see groups of people gathering underground, their flickering torches lighting up the dark, making the drawings leap around above their heads in the shadows. Perhaps there’s the sound of hard surfaces being struck with tools, perhaps there are human voices mingling with harsh echoes that shock and surprise as they seem to come from all directions. Add a sense of being at the mercy of powerful natural forces, held by shared ritual, and accompanied by the possible ingestion of hallucinogenic substances….my imagination explodes.
From the cave of deep winter, Happy New Year!



















So much I didn’t know and intend to reread this as a quick look is all I have time for just now. Looking forward to time to ponder
Caves are raves!