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Ancient nomads created the larger-than-life image perhaps as long as 7,000 years ago by filling their mouths with red ocher-tinted paint and spraying it out with a mighty burst onto the sandstone. The “Holy Ghost” is the focal point of the Great Gallery, a vast mural 300 feet long and featuring some 200 images, located a five-hour drive southeast of Salt Lake City in Utah’s Horseshoe Canyon. No one knows for sure what the images represent or why they were painted.
David Sucec calls the Great Gallery “the Sistine Chapel” of Utah’s Barrier Canyon—as this style of rock art is called — and says the men and women who painted it were true artists. “It’s clear they weren’t just making images,” he says. “They liked to paint and probably had a tradition of painting and what we would consider masters and apprentices.”
But unlike Michelangelo’s ceiling, the Great Gallery is exposed to the elements. And while many Barrier Canyon paintings remain resplendent, time is dulling them, natural rock spalling is gnawing at them and vandals are desecrating them. The Holy Ghost and others like it are vanishing.
Fourteen years ago, Sucec, 67, a former professor of painting and art history at Virginia Commonwealth University, began to document the thousands of Barrier Canyon images hidden throughout Utah’s labyrinthine canyon country. He enlisted Craig Law, a photography professor at Utah State University, to join him. The two men journey into Utah’s canyon country each spring and fall. Extreme temperatures prohibit field work the rest of the year. The pair hope to produce a complete record to be used by museums and scholars.
Back when they began, there were thought to be just 160
More than 500 million years ago, most of what is now the Colorado Plateau, a landscape of colorful buttes, palisades, rock arches and slender red-rock canyons was covered by ocean. Although mountains began to rise above sea level some 300 million years ago, they were eroded by wind and water to form massive dunes. One example is the San Rafael Swell, where soaring canyon walls became stunning palettes for Barrier Canyon artists.
From about 7500 B.C. to about A.D. 300, according to Navajo Nation archaeologist Phil R. Geib, small bands of peoples traveled this harsh landscape, surviving on vegetation and whatever small mammals, fish and birds they could catch with net-like traps and snares. Spears and atlatls (devises used to launch long-shafted darts), were used for deer. Artifacts recovered from a cave in southern Utah in 1975 include pendants and bracelets made from bones as well as painted stones and clay figurines.
Some archaeologists who have studied the Barrier Canyon images believe they were created between 1,900 B.C. and A.D. 300, though Alan Watchman, a research fellow at Australian says radio-carbon analysis dates some of them to the Early Archaic period, from about 7,430 B.C. to 5,260 B.C. Archaeologist Phil Geib also believes the earliest may date to the Archaic Period. He notes that a figuring similar in style to Barrier Canyon rock art was recovered in a cave in Utah above a layer of soil dating to around 7500 BC. A distinctive style of sandals directly associated with the figurine, he says, dates to around 5400 B.C.
It’s an early spring morning when I follow Sucec and Law, cradling his tripod like a carbine, into the San Rafael Reef. We slip through a 150-foot-deep cleft in the canyon barely an arm span wide in some places. The walls, fluted by flood waters, are white, pink, bronze and yellow. After perhaps a quarter mile, we come to an expansive rock-rimmed amphitheater where creosote bushes bloom with yellow blossoms on the canyon floor and canyon wrens flit here and there, alighting briefly in pinion and juniper trees that have somehow found purchase in the sandy soil.
Twenty minutes deeper into the canyon takes us around yet another bend and to the base of a cliff perhaps 1,000 feet high. There, about 200 feet above us, I spy the ancient images. Clambering up a slope of rubble from past rockfalls, we work our way up to the paintings, very possibly retracing the steps of the artists who made them.
The main panel bears a red rectangular block, an anthropomorphic character with antenna, and what
Edging closer to them, Sucec raises his hand above several streaks obviously made by the artist. “You can actually see how big this person’s hand was. My hand is bigger than his,” he says. “You can actually see in the smears up here a fingerprint.”
One day, as we rest high above the sandy floor of Wild Horse Canyon, I ask Sucec if he thinks he and Law will ever find all of the artworks.
“Probably not all of them — maybe 90 percent,” he answers. There are simply too many sites in too many canyons. And too often, Sucec tells me, the slant of the sun has to be just right for an image even to be spotted. “Sometimes you have to go back two or three times to do a canyon.” he says. “This canyon is six miles long. It will take us 10 to 12 days to do this. And there are 10,000 canyons.”
Copyright Kurt Repanshek 2005 |


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Barrier Canyon image in Horseshoe Canyon
Photo By Kurt Repanshek |