Mad genius or mountain desecrator? The jury’s out but Claudius Cap de Blanc’s work is nothing if not original. He has certainly left his mark on the Ariège. 

On summer walks in the high mountains of the Ariège, France, I had seen the sign. Generally carved onto a prominent rock, it looked somewhat like an eye, a vertical, elongated ovoid with a slash in the middle.

When I thought about it, if I ever thought about it at all, I vaguely assumed it must be some old way marker, since superseded by the gaudy splashes denoting the more modern hiking trails. 

Occasionally I even noticed one on a tree, but it was not until my 14th visit to the region that I finally discovered the story behind these enigmatic symbols – and it was far weirder than anything I could ever have imagined! 

The Vulvographer

In 2007 an obscure local artist known as Claudius Cap de Blanc decided to pay homage to the mother figure. The symbol when viewed in context is actually one of the oldest, if not the oldest, known to humankind: a vulva! 

Dating back some 38,000 years, the ancient sign denotes fertility, pleasure and femininity. Having had a eureka moment following a lecture on the subject by a palaeontologist, Claudius set forth. 

His initial phase in November and December 2007, not in my mind his most subtle and verging on graffiti, consisted of painting the symbol 100 times in red on various rocks within a relatively small area.

However his imagination really took flight in the next couple of years. He progressed to building 400 natural stone temples in the mountains dedicated to the vulva: basically small scale rock dolmens shielding the symbol below, which was still largely painted on a rock, although one original version was made of snow. 

In the same period he was also busy engraving the sign into 4000 tree trunks as well as working on a giant version in the earth which he intended to seed with flowers, thus emphasising the fertility of the land.

Next came the actual engraving on the rocks of the Ariège. Nowhere was sacred; in fact the more iconic a place, the more vulvographs it merited: Les Trois Seigneurs,  a distinctive summit overlooking three important valleys,  Mont Valier, the lofty emblem of the Couserans region at 2,838 m and Montcalm, the highest of the Ariègeois peaks at 3,077 m, were all embellished. 

Nowhere was safe as Claudius hiked the popular, and some not so popular, walking trails. Several thousand vulvae now litter the Ariège, quietly fading into obscurity under the effects of weather and lichens.

Extending into 2010, he started incorporating the symbol into everyday objects – I will never view a box of tissues the same way again! He photographed trees and rocks which seemed to display it naturally, engraved stones en masse and piled them into various designs, slapped stencils onto public signs, telegraph poles and the like. 

Also in 2010 – I don’t know how he found the time – he inserted 443 engraved stones into 332 communes, placing them on local war memorials, lavoirs and crosses. He was so prolific that he soon had to delegate with the aim of placing 100 of the engraved stones into 100 countries (supposedly still ongoing!) 

It is an amazing story – only in the offbeat climes of the Ariège could someone run around etching thousands of vulvas into the rocks. I can only imagine the conversations that occurred at the local Mairies! 

A Little Background

Claudius at least has the merit of being a  local man. He was one of 10 children and was born Jean Claude Lagarde in 1953 to a peasant family in Oust. 

Apparently he worked as a photographer and in hotels in his early life before travelling extensively. Finally he returned to the Ariège and renovated a barn near Foix before finding the perfect workshop in Mas d’Azil in 2003.

The disused furniture factory which Claudius bought and turned into his workshop has now become the Affabuloscope Museum. It is tucked around the back in a rather nondescript part of town and entry costs 8 euros. On a Saturday afternoon in September, we were the only visitors.

Unfortunately Claudius is no longer in residence. After being fined 6000 euros and sentenced to 2 months in jail for decorating the historic Mas d’Azil cave in his usual fashion, Claudius was strapped for cash. 

Having stated that he never sold anything when Michel Malbec asked if he could help out by buying a piece, he then flipped to say ‘Everything!’. Malbec, an architect with a self professed love of ‘weird things’ has reconfigured the workshop into a startling new museum with 650 of Claudius’ works. 

The Affabuloscope 

The first floor is probably the most original and displays the early works: a plethora of wood machines with cogs, levers, chains and secret doors where Claudius invented the  machines that history had overlooked – who could not fail to see the need for the ‘The Machine to Make Ends Meet’, the ‘Balance to weigh the Pros and Cons’ or the ‘Brake on Expenditure’?

He examines the alternative reality of historical happenings such as if no one had invented God or if Gavrilo Princip had decided to stay at home rather than assassinate the Archduke in 1914. His parallel universes are nothing if not thought provoking. 

There is a scarily versatile torture machine, and intricate wooden bicycles which do apparently work. 

On the second floor, one finds Média-toc which has an astute dig at the media and shows how people are fed futile information which they come to believe as essential – it is a good thing he predated social media.

In a similar vein are the machines to dry one’s tears in order to find happiness, an ingenious mix of fans and brushes.

Gradually his mind seems to have found its groove: we move on to a vast display of erectographs which were used to measure the virility and erections of everyone from Casanova to Castro.

Also on this floor, I found the Cloud Bottler which is a rather lovely idea, as well as a stake fitted with collars so that one could safely leave one’s children in order to visit the third floor.

This riotous journey through his oeuvre culminates in the Sign of the Vulva on the 3rd floor. The vulvae are shown in their various incarnations throughout history. There is a section for the promotion of public hair and his giant notebooks are on display – each vulva etching foray into the mountains is minutely documented. 

Last but not least are the works of an entire lost South American tribe! My head was spinning by this point and I wondered if I were any closer to understanding the maelstrom of Claudius’s mind. 

Still Going Strong

This may be the time to point out that Claudius is still hard at work on vulva representations on the hills above Foix, and still annoying the powers that be – check out his Facebook page for the latest irate letter from the Forestry Department threatening further action if he doesn’t restore the site to its original natural state.

I think history will be kind to Claudius. His juxtaposition of vulvae within nature can be startlingly original and the sheer longevity of his oeuvre displays a certain doggedness. 

There is a unique humour and insight to his work and though much is tongue in cheek, he does get some very fair points across whilst gently mocking our modern manners. 

He is undeterred by the constraints of society. For over 40 years he has been a prolific creator of original works and continues undeterred. He deserves wider recognition rather than derision and the Ariège should embrace such an original artist living within its borders, one indeed who rather encapsulates the individuality of the region. 

Somehow, I feel Claudius will enjoy the last laugh, long may he continue!

NOTES 

The Affabuloscope Museum can be found at Mas d’Azil in the Ariège. Whilst there, it is worth taking a walk through the gigantic cavern which is very impressive with both a river and a road running through it. It is possible to explore further on a guided visit which covers the prehistory of the cave – it is not a cave for formations – as well as a local museum which displays objects found within it.

The vulvae can be found in any of these places (be prepared to walk!) :