Desert Labyrinth Lines, Landscape and Meaning Nazca PER

Desert labyrinth: lines, landscape andmeaning at Nazca, PeruClive Ruggles1 & Nicholas J. Saunders2

The shapes drawn out by the famous Nazcalines in the Peruvian desert are at their mostevident from the air—giving rise to somefamously fantastic theories about their origin.The new understanding offered here is theresult of a piece of straightforward brillianceon the part of our authors: get down on theground, where the original users were, and seewhere your feet lead you. Using stratigraphicand taphonomic reasoning to decide whichlines were contemporary, they discover anitinerary so complex they can justify callingit a labyrinth, and see it as serving ceremonialprogressions.

Keywords: Peru, Nasca, Nazca, first millennium AD, geoglyphs, landscape

IntroductionLandscapes are concepts as well as physical places. As we move through them we engageour social and cultural precepts, inventing and elaborating, emphasising or disregardingnatural features, and bestowing ever-changing meanings on the arbitrary configurationsof significance that we perceive. Topography becomes toponymy, reflected in, andacknowledged by, a layering of material traces. Few places epitomise these processes ina more palpable—or a more contentious—way than the desert of coastal southern Peru.

The Nazca pampa, 220km2 in extent, is one of many arid desert plateaux that separatethe habitable river valleys of the region. The part known as the Pampa de San Jose is famousfor its palimpsest of pre-Columbian geoglyphs (lines, geometric designs, and zoomorphicfigures). In fact, geoglyphs extend over the entire Nazca pampa, making it a unique exampleof the social construction of landscape, and of landscape as ongoing social process. Yetits status as an icon of international cultural heritage (Dıaz Arriola 2000) is matched byits nature as one of the world’s most fragile archaeological landscapes, and exacerbatedby endless speculation on the origins and purpose of its enigmatic desert markings. Tensionsbetween investigation, preservation, development and tourism, existing since the 1970s,

1 School of Archaeology and Ancient History, University of Leicester, Leicester LE1 7RH, UK2 Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, University of Bristol, 43 Woodland Road, Bristol BS8 1UU, UK

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resulted in access to the pampa being restricted, and also help to explain an almost 20-yearabsence of in situ investigations after the mid-1980s.

The geoglyphs are primarily associated with the Nasca culture (c. 100 BC–c. AD 700) andwere produced, broadly speaking, by picking up or sweeping aside the oxide-darkened desertpavement of small stones to reveal lighter, sandy soil beneath (Silverman & Proulx 2002:172). The theories that have attempted to explain these designs on the desert are a roll call ofshifting twentieth-century obsessions, von Daniken’s (1969) supposed alien landing stripsbeing by far the most notorious example, albeit globally influential in heightening publicawareness. Reiche’s (1968) astronomical-calendrical interpretation remains a dominantpublic narrative at local and national levels within Peru. More reasoned interpretations,grounded in Andean material culture and world-view, postulate connections to water andirrigation, walking, ceremonial activity, ritual clearing, kinship, and concepts of radiality, aswell as astronomy in limited measure (Reinhard 1987; Aveni 1990, 2000; Rodrıguez 1999;Johnson et al. 2002).

Clusters of hill-top geoglyphs in the nearby Palpa valley area, north of the Nazca desert,have recently been mapped from the air (Sauerbier 2009; see also Arnold 2009) and,significantly, investigated on the ground using a range of archaeological techniques (Lambers2006; Reindel et al. 2006). This important advance has tied Palpa’s geoglyphs to materialculture (Reindel & Wagner 2009), and revealed both to be typically Nasca, and thus coevalwith the almost identical, though larger-scale and more densely-packed, desert designs ofthe Nazca pampa.

Our investigations seek to explain this scale and density. While we acknowledge in generalterms that the Nazca geoglyphs were in some way a vivification of indigenous concepts ofobligation to create and maintain ritual and social space (Silverman 1990a: 451–52; Urton1990), we have not followed exclusively any prior theory. Instead, we adopted two distinctyet complementary approaches—one sensorial, the other technological.

Reconnaissance began in 2004, and established an 80km2 study area towards the southand west of the Nazca pampa bordering the valley of the Nazca River, where the ceremonialsite of Cahuachi is located (Silverman 1993; Orefici 2009a). Over a period of five years from2007 we conducted an intensive and systematic investigation of the geoglyphs in this area,south of the most sensitive parts of the Pampa de San Jose but still a fragile landscape withrestricted access.

As Nazca’s desert drawings were created and used by people who walked on and hadan intimate relationship with the pampa, we attempted to develop our own equally haptic(tactile) familiarity with the landscape in order to appreciate the physical and perceptualrelationships that may have influenced geoglyph production, use, and abandonment. Theauthors have spent more than 150 days in the study area walking over 1500km in theprocess. To make scientific sense of our subjective experiences, we gathered and analyseddata on the physical structure of the geoglyphs and their cultural and environmental context,following well-established practice pioneered by investigators such as Clarkson (1990). Inshort, we combined an experiential mode of inquiry with satellite digital mapping and adetailed scientific examination of the material evidence.

During the first fieldwork season we relocated a remarkable and previously unreporteddesert drawing, initially encountered by CR in 1984 and still undocumented. This provided

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Figure 1. The labyrinth in context: features in the wider landscape and covering a broader chronology. All mapped geoglyphfeatures are shown, but footpaths are omitted for clarity. Dots mark rows of small stone piles. Lighter lines indicate the sidesof washes. Drawing: Deborah Miles-Williams.

some unique insights into the placement of geoglyphs in the landscape, and their designand intended use. In this paper, we focus upon this design and its broader implications forunderstanding the human use of the Nazca pampa and the cultural significance of its desertmarkings.

Experiencing the unexpected: a labyrinth recognisedLine Centre 51 (LC51; Figure 1) is one of a cluster of nine ‘line centres’—prominent pointsin the landscape from which many linear geoglyphs radiate—noted by Aveni (1990: 48,68–69). It is situated at 486736 8366376 and elevation 416m, about 4km north of theC© Antiquity Publications Ltd.

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Figure 2. Plan of the ‘LC51 labyrinth’ showing washes. Drawing: Deborah Miles-Williams.

Nazca River valley and almost directly across the valley from Cahuachi. However, LC51 isanomalous. It has only one narrow radiating line, to the south, plus a triple line—one wideline flanked by two narrower ones—extending to the NW.

On 5 June 1984, while investigating LC51 as part of a statistical investigation of radialline azimuths (Ruggles 1990), CR began walking the central line of the triplet to the NWout from the centre, and in doing so began what might be described as a personal rite ofpassage. This central line (A in Figure 2), narrowing steadily from some 5.5m wide at thestart (O), reaches a point 230m to the NW beyond which a 40m-long section has beencompletely washed away. However, the very end of the line—now only 1.1m wide—justsurvives beyond the far side of the wash (B). Here it turns two right-angled corners to theleft and then returns as the parallel line on the SW side (C). Following this line revealed thatit does in fact turn left again at its SE end, passing directly in front of the start of the wideline (see Figure 3) and then turning again to form the other parallel line on the NE side (E).

Continuing to follow the line, a succession of sharp corners was encountered, each ofwhich suddenly revealed a further straight segment heading off in a new and unexpecteddirection. Ever-longer segments led progressively further away from the central focal pointand then back again tantalisingly close. After 15 such corners came a unique feature: a tightcurve (16). Beyond this were three long straight segments which, breaking the ‘out and


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Figure 3. The view northwards from the central mound O. Wide line A can be seen stretching off to the left, with a narrowsegment (D) passing directly in front. Photograph: Clive Ruggles.

back’ rhythm, swept out beyond and around the remainder of the figure before revealingthe final unanticipated element. After suddenly narrowing down to a mere 0.5m inwidth, the path transforms into a tight spiral (X), winding into the centre and out again andleaving the walker, after traversing a little over 4.4km, just 60m from the original startingpoint (see also Figure 4). The plans in Figures 1 and 2 are based upon survey data collectedin 2007. Tables 1a and 1b list the basic data on length and orientations.

DiscussionThe term ‘labyrinth’—in the sense of a single path leading to and from a centre, constantlydisorientating the walker along the way, as opposed to a branching maze with choices ofpath and direction (Kern 1982: 13; Aveni 2000: 220)—seems wholly appropriate here. Thelabyrinth was clearly designed as an integral whole. It was evidently built with great careand consistency, every part constructed with a level surface of small stones and a regularbank of larger stones on each side. The width remains a constant 1.1m throughout, apartfrom where it widens out on approach to the central focal point (O) at one end and narrowsthrough the spiral (X) at the other. All the segments are straight apart from V–W, which hasa slight kink, suggesting perhaps that the final corner (18) and spiral (X) were built beforebeing joined together. The whole figure is situated on relatively flat ground between 414 and418m in elevation, the only significant undulations being two low mounds, one that formsthe focal point (O) and the other at the turning points of the inner paths to the north-westC© Antiquity Publications Ltd.

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Figure 4. Aerial view of the central and SW part of the labyrinth, showing the central mound O and paths A, C and Eextending to the WNW; the spiral X; segments G, H and J passing ‘behind’ (to the south of ) the central mound; and accesspath e extending away to the south. Photograph: Clive Ruggles.

(B, 5, 6). As a result, the labyrinth as an entity is invisible, and therefore ‘hidden’, in thelandscape.

Yet its overall design is asymmetric and, as viewed ‘externally’, is completely unaesthetic—at least to Western sensibilities. It is certainly not representational in any obvious sense, anddoes not correspond to any motif known from Nasca iconography (Proulx 2006). A ‘bird’seye’ view, such as Figure 2, is therefore useless for understanding the meaning of the design;a sense of participating in a meaningful activity only emerges by walking. The design itselfdirects the walking experience, while the structure (i.e. the width of the path and the natureof the surface) shapes that experience for the mind and body (e.g. Ingold 2004: 321).

Was the labyrinth unique? Probably not. Nevertheless, it is clearly unusual: within theimmediate surrounding area of several square kilometres, where narrow lines and pathsare typically between 0.4 and 0.7m in width, wider lines and trapezoids are several metreswide at least, and we have found no other curves or spirals. Fragments of comparable linesegments are, however, found in an area some 700m to the south (around x in Figure 1),which indicates the likely existence of a similar construction or constructions, now almostunrecognisable. This emphasises how fortunate it is that the integrity of the LC51 labyrinthhas not been compromised. All but one of the corners survive, including the unique curvedcorner 16, despite the fact that over 10 per cent of the figure has been washed away. Theoriginal position of corner 18 can easily be deduced from the two straight path segmentsleading up to it.


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Table 1a. ‘LC51 labyrinth’ basic data: corners.

Location ElevationPoint E N (m asl)

Central terminal 486732 8366385 417Corner 1 486563 8366595 419Corner 2 486558 8366588 419Corner 3 486724 8366376 418Corner 4 486742 8366392 418Corner 5 486563 8366607 419Corner 6 486540 8366586 418Corner 7 486717 8366329 416Corner 8 486787 8366361 417Corner 9 486626 8366678 420Corner 10 486636 8366688 420Corner 11 486789 8366414 417Corner 12 486802 8366422 417Corner 13 486647 8366795 420Corner 14 486661 8366802 420Corner 15 486811 8366427 417Start of curved segment 487086 8366559 419End of curved segment 487088 8366567 419Corner 17 486666 8366821 421Corner 18 486439 8366598 415Slight kink 486516 8366491 412Start of spiral 486679 8366326 412Last surviving part 486684 8366341 413

The labyrinth in context

The LC51 labyrinth does not exist in isolation. The wider area (see Figure 1) is strewn withgeoglyphs, pathways and other features such as rows of small, regularly spaced stone piles orcairns (as distinct from clearance piles), marked by dots in the figure. Several straight linescross the path of the labyrinth and a number of crossing points exist where the horizontalstratigraphy is sufficiently well preserved to indicate the relative chronology: for example,where one line cuts across another at a crossing point, with its side banks unbroken, it clearlypost-dates the other. There are three main points of interest:

� The line marked a in Figure 1 is a segment of a long narrow line running directlyacross the pampa to the Mirador, a substantial hill and major line centre some 8kmaway to the NNE. The horizontal stratigraphy at the three crossing points showsthat the labyrinth post-dates this. It is possible, therefore, that the labyrinth alsopost-dates many, and perhaps all, of the long lines joining line centres on oppositesides of the pampa.

� Six faint lines, bunched in pairs, radiate out westwards from a line centre (LC48) some200m to the east. Four of these cross the labyrinth several times while the re-maining pair run up towards its northernmost corner (17). It is evident from the


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Table 1b. ‘LC51 labyrinth’ basic data: segments. All angles are in degrees and lengths are in metres.

Orientation (True azimuth)End point End pointSegment (inner) (outer) Length Width Outward Inward

A Centralterminal

Corner 1 269 5.5 –> 1.1 321 141

B Corner 1 Corner 2 8 1.1 221 41C Corner 2 Corner 3 270 1.1 142 322D Corner 3 Corner 4 24 1.1 49 229E Corner 4 Corner 5 280 1.1 320 140F Corner 5 Corner 6 31 1.1 227 47G Corner 6 Corner 7 312 1.1 145 325H Corner 7 Corner 8 76 1.1 66 246J Corner 8 Corner 9 356 1.1 333 153K Corner 9 Corner 10 14 1.1 46 226L Corner 10 Corner 11 314 1.1 151 331M Corner 11 Corner 12 15 1.1 59 239N Corner 12 Corner 13 404 1.1 337 157P Corner 13 Corner 14 16 1.1 65 245Q Corner 14 Corner 15 404 1.1 158 338R Corner 15 Start of curved

segment304 1.1 64 244

S Start of curvedsegment

End of curvedsegment

11 1.1 Curved segment

T End of curvedsegment

Corner 17 492 1.1 301 121

U Corner 17 Corner 18 319 1.1 226 46V Corner 18 Slight kink 132 1.1 144 324W Slight kink Start of spiral 232 1.1 135 315X Start of spiral Last surviving

part122 0.5 Curved segment

Total length 4405

horizontal stratigraphy at the crossing points that four of these radial lines, and byimplication all six of them, also predate the labyrinth.

� A 900m-long line c joins the labyrinth centre to a large line centre (LC53) to thesouth. It runs straight except for a small but significant (c. 7◦) change in directionon the intervening ridge (point d)—the only place from which both ends aresimultaneously visible. It is tempting to see this path as a ‘means of access’ to the centreof the labyrinth.

Line c appears to connect the labyrinth to a broader contemporary network of geoglyphsand thereby back to the Nazca Valley and in particular to Cahuachi, some 4km to the south.The various lines at multiple line centres such as LC53 were clearly added and elaboratedin stages, and the horizontal stratigraphy indicates that line c was a relatively late addition.The broader chronological evidence in the area suggests a sequence of construction in whichsuccessive geoglyphs were built extending out from existing ones, but connected back to theexisting line centres.


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The east–west ridge containing points a, c, d and x represents the northern extentof the Cahuachi viewshed—points in the landscape intervisible with Cahuachi’s tallestpyramids. The LC51 labyrinth represents an incursion onto the wide flat pampa out ofsight of Cahuachi that stretched northwards and eastwards towards the Andean foothills,the direction of the main source of flash-flood water flow down onto the pampa.

Very little diagnostic pottery, or indeed pottery of any kind, was found either on orclose to the various segments of the labyrinth. This stands in stark contrast to the relativefrequency of sherds on some of the longer lines, pathways and line centres in the surroundingarea. Indications from the ceramic analysis within our study area—for example, the fact thatsome of the earliest Nasca sherds have only been found at line centres—seem to confirm thechronological sequence suggested by the horizontal stratigraphy and we tentatively concludethat the labyrinth should be assigned a date during or shortly before the Middle Nasca period(c. AD 450–550).

Walking and viewing

If the labyrinth was built to be walked, who walked it? The lack of surface ceramics mightbe taken to imply that very few actually did. However, this absence may indicate that thelabyrinth was scrupulously cleaned, in contrast to those geoglyphs that were abandoned inthe process of construction or elaboration—where utilitarian ceramics are commonplaceand mollusc-shell food waste is present—or later used as pathways.

The labryrinth’s width presumably constrained walkers to single file, and the lack ofdamage to the sides of the path (and especially to the narrower spiral) demonstrates that itwas walked with extreme care. This argues against any form of ‘mass walking’. The physicalintegrity of the labyrinth is better explained by occasional walking, by an initiate, pilgrim,shaman or victim. It is also plausible to suggest, though impossible to prove, that thelabyrinth’s significance lay in metaphysical correlates associated with spiritual beliefs, ratherthan repeated use by humans. A final possibility is that its cognitive integrity was compro-mised at an early stage, and that it was abandoned or forgotten soon after construction.

A conceptual understanding of labyrinth walking is certainly worth attempting (cf. Aveni2000: 212–22). For instance, in the case of the LC51 figure, it is remarkable that, despite thelack of symmetry, there is a complete avoidance of the cardinal directions (to within about23◦), and furthermore that in the case of the E–W axis the zone of avoidance coincideswith the arcs of sunrise and sunset. This implies that it was important to avoid walkingdirectly north or south, or towards sunrise or sunset, perhaps for ideological reasons relatingto cosmological principles. If this testable pattern is repeated elsewhere, then it argues insupport of purposeful sky-oriented cultural activity (cf. Ziolkowski 2009).

A more fundamental question is: ‘which way should the labyrinth be walked?’ Walkingthe figure today provides no clear answer, since an equally impressive, if different, sequenceof unexpected experiences results from walking the whole figure in the opposite directionto that described above. For those progressing ‘inward’ (i.e. from X to O in Figure 2), thespiral could have provided a rite of passage into the ‘world’ of the labyrinth (cf. Ingold2007: 56), while the widening central line provided the climax as the central mound wasfinally approached. The widening is evident only when the line is walked, since it countersC© Antiquity Publications Ltd.

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Figure 5. The view SSE-wards along line A towards the central mound O. Photograph: Clive Ruggles.

the apparent narrowing due to perspective and creates an optical illusion of parallelism (seeFigure 5). Whatever the intended direction— and both could have been equally important—the low central mound was clearly the focus of the construction. Anyone standing on itwould have had a clear view of people moving round the whole labyrinth and, conversely,the eminence itself can be seen from any position on the labyrinth.

The terminus of the labyrinth is physically a ‘dead end’, cut off from the focal point onthe hill by segment D (not labelled in Figure 2), which passes immediately in front. Perhapsthis served to emphasise the perceived separation between someone standing on the centralmound and someone walking the labyrinth. This would imply that the only ‘open access’to the focal point was by the direct path from the south (c in Figure 1), a route that, ofnecessity, crosses the labyrinth (at point e), at what appears to have been an open crossing.

Like the labyrinth, the central mound is devoid of pottery. In this, it contrasts stronglywith other small mounds in the landscape and in particular with line centre LC48, a mere200m to the east, which contains numerous smashed pots. It is also unusual in not havinga hard ‘crust’ (‘desert pavement’) of small or moderate-sized stones, something that typifiesnumerous small natural mounds. This raises the possibility that it is an artificial structure,something that invites investigation by excavation.

Chronology, taphonomy and use

It is not straightforward to make a clear distinction between lines and paths. Many ‘lines’ onthe Nazca pampa are in fact well-worn paths, trodden down to a compacted sandy surface


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without well-defined edges; they are ‘basically’ rather than ‘purely’ straight (Lambers 2006:71), sometimes with sinuous meanderings. In many cases, only their ‘basic straightness’ givesany reason to suppose that they were pre-constructed as opposed to simply being created bywalking. Within our study area we have identified several instances where well-worn pathsdeviate around topographic undulations, while the direct route preserves traces of a perfectlystraight ‘pristine’ line—avoided, presumably, because it was difficult or impossible to walk.This suggests that some lines later became exclusively used as footpaths while others, onceconstructed, were left relatively untouched.

It is reasonable to assume that footpaths crossed the Nazca pampa before the appearanceof Nasca culture: indeed, there is mounting evidence (e.g. Lambers 2006: fig. 32) thatsome straight-line geoglyphs may have been constructed as early as the Late Paracas period(c. 400–100 BC), characterised more typically by various distinctive biomorphic figuresfound in the Palpa–Nazca region (e.g. Orefici 2009b: 96–99). Thus it was onto an existingnetwork of functional trails that Nasca people laid out a framework of ‘straight lines’ andgeometric designs which, while undergoing constant elaboration, appear not to have beeninitially designed or used for everyday cross-pampa traffic. While it is likely that somepre-Nasca footpaths were integrated into this framework, given the need for traversingthe pampa, the evidence suggests that pristine straight lines were conceived and laid outso as to form what might be termed an ‘ideological grid’—in many cases connectingradial line centres located at conspicuous points around the pampa but in themselvespurposefully ignoring the topography. Furthermore, their cultural value may have residedas much in the process of construction, maintenance and elaboration as in their role asloci for ‘ritual’ activity. If so, then the ‘linear perfection’ of such ideological lines waspart of the grid’s conceptual coherence, and demanded a pristine preservation that all butstrictly controlled ‘use’ would have compromised. (Furthermore, their state of preservationsuggests that even the use of contemporary footpaths was carefully controlled, as we arguebelow.)

It cannot even be assumed that similar ideas and associations motivated the productionof geoglyphs during the 800-year Nasca period—in this sense, it is clearly unproductiveto regard them as a coherent entity (Silverman & Browne 1991: 209). Ideologicalconsiderations would have continued to dictate how every new geoglyph creation orelaboration should relate to what went before, but it is reasonable to assume that as timeprogressed elaborations and superimpositions started to compromise rather than reinforceits integrity.

By late Nasca times, however, it is likely that segments of the pristine lines had startedto be integrated on an ad hoc basis into the network of footpaths. The Nasca geoglyphscan certainly be assumed to have lost their culturally specific ideological dimensions by AD700, a point reinforced by the fact that after Wari influence (c. AD 700–900) declined, thepeople of the Nazca region nowhere returned to Nasca symbols and styles (Silverman &Proulx 2002: 280). It can also be assumed that throughout the period of local polities andthe Ica culture (AD 900–1438), the area’s still (mainly) ethnic Nasca population re-usedcertain Nasca-period ‘straight lines’ as footpaths across the pampa, as well as continuing touse age-old routeways, while perhaps forging new ones across larger geoglyph designs (seealso Urton 1990: 179).C© Antiquity Publications Ltd.

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The Wari and Inka (AD 1438–1532) were Andean mountain cultures, whose intrusivepresence into Nazca’s coastal region was marked, at least for the latter, by the imposition ofthe Inka road system, whose geo-political imperial nature had little in common with localNasca trans-pampa footpaths. The co-existence of such footpaths and the Inka road wouldhave been unremarkable inasmuch as the latter would likely have been available only forthose engaged on official Inka business (Hyslop 1984: 2, 248).

Spanish conquest and colonisation from 1532 onwards imposed a non-indigenouspolitical economy and transportation technology on the Nazca region, which graduallyreconfigured and re-valued at least some of the functional aspects of trans-pampa traffic.From colonial times to the present, transportation moved away from that based solely onwalking, to one focused on horses and wheeled transport.

During the twentieth century, the discovery of the geoglyphs focused attention on thezoomorphic figures and lines of ‘obvious’ astronomical significance in the Pampa de SanJose area. The cleaning, tidying, and emphasising of these markings added another layer tobe interpreted, and their international fame attracted uncontrolled tourism which left itsown ‘line system’ in the innumerable tyre tracks cutting into the pre-Columbian geoglyphs.Ironically, these and other disturbances were then fossilised into the landscape by lawsrestricting access, and have now become part of the archaeological record.

Working within this broad interpretative framework, our project has generated a detailednarrative in the southern portion of the Nazca pampa based upon a large matrix ofchronological relationships at crossing points informed by the analysis of ceramic andother surface artefacts. This adds time depth as well as a considerably improved level ofdetail to existing plans such as Aveni’s (compare Figure 1 and Aveni 1990: 48). (At the timeof writing, many wider geoglyph features can be identified on GoogleEarth, but narrowlines and paths remain for the most part invisible.) In the immediate vicinity of the LC51labyrinth we can identify several distinct episodes of geoglyph construction, starting withthe long-distance narrow ‘pristine’ lines passing right across the area; followed by line centreLC48, built on an existing long-distance line, and the construction and elaboration of LC53within clear sight of Cahuachi to the south; and finally the construction of the labyrinthitself with a single ‘ideological line’ connecting it back to LC53.

A key issue that, surprisingly, has received little or no attention in the literature is thatmany of the Nazca pampa’s lines and footpaths appear to be so little damaged. If we setaside damage related to the passage of motor vehicles in recent decades, and also damageby flash floods caused by successive El Nino episodes, it is notable that many centuriesof movement across the pampa have failed to destroy the physical integrity of numerousnarrow linear features. During Nasca times, in particular, when thousands of people mayrepeatedly have crossed the pampa en route to the Nasca pilgrimage centre of Cahuachiover decades or centuries (Silverman 1990b, 1993: 311–17), this would have representeda significant challenge to the integrity of both lines and footpaths. This implies that aconsiderable degree of control was somehow exercised over the ‘styles’ of movement of socialgroups that presumably included children, the elderly, dogs, and llamas. Even comparativelyslight damage to a pristine straight line (such as a segment of the LC51 labyrinth) inprehistoric times would have left traces plainly visible today. Such a tightly controlledlandscape, with a clear differentiation between meandering footpaths and an ideological


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grid of pristine straight lines and geometrical figures, itself suggests social differentiation interms of knowledge of and access to certain areas of the pampa. The LC51 labyrinth itselfis an epitome of controlled walking, and as such it clearly reinforces this general argument.

ConclusionsDeserts, like all landscapes, have their own languages that archaeologists must master ifthey are to provide plausible accounts of the interactions between culture and nature. TheNazca pampa is geologically distinctive, its own fragility having preserved substantive anddelicate surface traces of past cultural activity for at least 2000 years. For Nasca society, thedesert markings of those who had gone before—the ancestors— remained plain to see foreach successive generation or social group. The intensive superimposition of the pampa’sgeoglyphs suggests that for the Nasca, in a unique way, landscapes were woven into life, andlives were woven into the desert (Tilley 1994: 29–30).

The practice of creating new geoglyphs over earlier ones was an ongoing processwhich stopped, possibly suddenly, and for unknown reasons, leaving a variety of themin different stages of completion. In attempting to discern the temporal sequence oftheir construction, we suggest that an ‘ideological grid’ of pristine straight lines andgeometrical designs was superimposed upon pre-existing footpaths, and elaborated overtime. However, it also began to deteriorate, its integrity compromised by natural eventsand also, increasingly, by processes of abandonment, superimposition, and partial re-use asfootpaths.

The LC51 labyrinth serves, we suggest, as an analogue for the wider Nazca pampa, wheremany straight lines and geometrical features that are not visibly associated from one locationare nonetheless ultimately recognised as being connected as one moves along or aroundthem. The form of the LC51 labyrinth was not apparent, and its design and size were inno way obvious because it was, and remains, ‘hidden’ within the local landscape. Apartfrom being told of its existence, the only way of knowing and appreciating the location andextent of the labyrinth was, and still is, to walk its entire 4.4km length: in other words, tosublimate vision to embodied movement across the pampa, in a confusing and disorientingsequence of direction changes, until one arrives virtually back at the beginning. The LC51labyrinth may be a microcosm of a larger organising principle similarly ‘hidden’ on the widerpampa, and whose conceptual significance emerges only from a combination of prior ritualknowledge, styles of movement and glimpses of intervisibility.

It is clear that understanding the Nazca pampa’s confusing palimpsest of desert markingscannot be achieved by importing Western notions and ‘big scientific ideas’ that purportto unlock an enigmatic mystery. More useful, perhaps, is what Ingold has called “a moregrounded approach to human movement, sensitive to embodied skills of footwork, [which]opens up new terrain in the study of environmental perception . . . and landscape formation”(2004: 315). Vision is the dominant western sense of knowing the world, but for the LC51labyrinth, and presumably other geoglyphs as well, it was partly elided in favour of physicallysensing the pampa by moving in single file along a continuous narrow line or pathway. Onlythrough in situ study of geoglyph taphonomy, and a constant adjustment of our theoreticalengagement with it, can a more nuanced appreciation be gained of an aspect of Nasca cultureC© Antiquity Publications Ltd.

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that has hitherto been unrecognised. Negotiating the space between sensoriality, technology,and the ‘archaeology of the surface’, begins this long-overdue process.

AcknowledgementsWe are indebted for financial and logistical support to the Asociacion Cultural Peruano Britanica, Lima, andparticularly to the Cultural Director Marıa Elena Herrera. Hearty thanks are due to our field collaborators IvanGhezzi, Marilyn Herrera, Jose Antonio Hudtwalcker, Johny Isla, Alberto Urbano and Gerald Zubiaga, as well asto Alejandro Bocanegra and Ruben Garcıa for their invaluable local assistance. CR also thanks Anthony Avenifor introducing him to the pampa and, unwittingly, to the LC51 figure, back in 1984. We are most grateful forthe helpful comments of the referees.

Note: we follow authors such as Silverman and Proulx (2002) in using the term ‘Nazca’ for the modern place but‘Nasca’ for the ancient culture. Locations were determined with Trimble Pro-XRS equipment using real-timedifferential correction from OmniStar. Horizontal positions are quoted in UTM co-ordinates (zone 18S) on theWGS84 datum, while all elevations are above Mean Sea Level (defined Geoid EGM96 [Global]). Where a pointis archaeologically well defined, both the horizontal co-ordinates and the elevation are considered accurate towithin 1m (68 per cent precisions as determined by the GPS being typically 0.3m in the horizontal and 0.5min the vertical).

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Received: 29 October 2009; Revised: 26 January 2012; Accepted: 19 March 2012


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