Art and shamanism are connected because shamanic art is almost never decoration. A shaman’s costume, a spirit vessel, a painted vision: each one is made to do a job, carrying power, recording a journey, or calling a spirit into a specific object. Across very different cultures, from Siberia to the Amazon, the image exists to work, not to be admired.
| Tradition | What the art actually does |
|---|---|
| Siberian and Mongolian | Costumes, mirrors and ongon (spirit vessels) carry and house spirit power for ritual use |
| Amazonian ayahuasca traditions | Icaros (songs) and visionary painting record and direct what is seen in ceremony |
| Upper Paleolithic cave art | Possibly linked to trance states, but this remains a contested interpretation, not a settled fact |
| Modern Western practice | Art-making itself sometimes used as a trance or journeying technique |
Does cave art prove that shamanism is 40,000 years old?
No, and this deserves a straight answer, because the “40,000 years” claim circulates constantly without the caveat it needs. The oldest burial that researchers widely read as a shaman’s is about 12,000 years old, at Hilazon Tachtit in what is now Israel. Cave art, including the famous paintings at Chauvet in France, reaches back tens of thousands of years further than that, but reading that art as evidence of shamanic practice is an interpretation, not a documented fact.
The strongest version of that interpretation comes from the archaeologist David Lewis-Williams, whose neuropsychological model proposes that certain abstract geometric shapes recurring in Upper Paleolithic art, found independently in trance states across cultures today, reflect what early humans saw during altered consciousness, and that painting them onto cave walls was part of ritual trance practice. It is a genuinely compelling theory. It is also contested within archaeology, resting on comparison rather than direct evidence, since nobody alive watched a Paleolithic painter at work. The honest position is that cave art might show the oldest shamanic images we have. It does not prove it.
What makes shamanic art different from decoration?
Shamanic art is built to be used, not looked at. In Siberian and Mongolian traditions, a shaman’s costume, hung with mirrors, metal discs and animal imagery, is not a performance outfit. The mirrors are believed to see spirits approaching from any direction, the metal pieces carry protective and summoning power, and the whole costume is treated as a working tool that can fail, need repair, or need to rest. Alongside the costume, many Siberian and Mongolian practitioners keep ongon, physical vessels, often simple wooden or felt figures, made specifically to house a particular spirit so it can be called on when needed. An ongon that is beautifully carved and one that is plain can carry exactly the same power. Craftsmanship is not the point. Function is.
What do ayahuasca-visionary paintings actually show?
In Amazonian ayahuasca traditions, visionary art is treated as a direct record of what was seen in ceremony, not an artist’s invention. The Shipibo people of Peru weave and paint intricate geometric line patterns onto textiles and ceramics, patterns said to be perceived during ceremony and understood as the visual form of the icaros, the healing songs sung to guide a session. The pattern and the song are two expressions of the same thing.
The best-known individual painter in this tradition is Pablo Amaringo, a Peruvian visionary artist whose densely detailed paintings depict ayahuasca ceremonies exactly as he experienced them: spirit beings, plant teachers, cities of light, and the other practitioners present, all rendered with the specificity of a report rather than the ambiguity of a dream. Amaringo’s work, collected in the book Ayahuasca Visions with the ethnobotanist Luis Eduardo Luna, is widely treated as one of the clearest first-hand visual accounts of what these ceremonies can produce. It is testimony rendered in paint.
Can making art itself be a shamanic practice?
Yes, for some modern practitioners, though this is a Western adaptation rather than an ancient method. In some neo-shamanic and transpersonal art therapy approaches, the act of drawing or painting while in a light trance, often drum-induced, is used the way journeying itself is used: as a way to let something arrive on the page that the conscious mind did not plan. The image produced this way is treated less as a finished artwork and more as a message, similar to how a journey report is treated, something to sit with and interpret rather than simply admire.
How do you tell real shamanic art from a marketing label?
Ask where the image came from. Genuine shamanic art, in every tradition above, comes out of an actual practice: a costume used in real ceremonies, a painting of a vision the painter actually had, a pattern tied to a specific song and a specific lineage. “Shamanic art” sold purely as a style, loose spirals and animal silhouettes with no practice or lineage behind them, borrows the aesthetic without the function. That does not make it worthless as decoration. It does mean it is not doing what the word shamanic claims it is doing.
If this has you curious about the practice behind the images rather than the images themselves, the drum-led journey is where that practice actually starts, and I teach it from the beginning in the Elements of Shamanism training. For how these visual traditions sit inside the wider picture of the world’s shamanic cultures, see Shamanism Was Never One Thing.
Frequently asked questions about art and shamanism
No. Some researchers, most notably David Lewis-Williams, argue that certain Upper Paleolithic cave paintings depict trance visions linked to shamanic ritual. This is a respected but contested interpretation within archaeology, not a documented fact, and should be presented as such.
An ongon is a spirit vessel used in Siberian and Mongolian shamanic traditions, typically a simple carved or felt figure made to house a particular spirit so the practitioner can call on it when needed. Its power comes from its function, not its craftsmanship.
Pablo Amaringo was a Peruvian visionary artist who painted detailed depictions of his own ayahuasca ceremony visions. His work, published in the book Ayahuasca Visions, is widely regarded as one of the clearest visual records of what these ceremonies can produce.
Some modern practitioners use drawing or painting during a light, drum-induced trance as a way to let an image arrive without conscious planning, treating the result as a message to interpret rather than a finished artwork. This is a contemporary adaptation rather than a technique drawn from any single ancient tradition.
About the author. Carolin Mallmann is a shamanic practitioner and teacher and the founder of One Shamanism. She trained in Mongolian and Siberian lineages and in Core Shamanism with the Foundation for Shamanic Studies, and teaches practitioners internationally.
Shamanic work supports, but does not replace, medical or psychological treatment.
