Irene Emery Roundtable on Museum Textiles 1974 Proceedings: Archaeological Textiles

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Citation preview

IRENE EMERY ROUNDTABLE ON MUSEUM TEXTILES 1974 PROCEEDINGS

ARC H A E 0 LOG I CAL

T EXT I L E S

Edited by Patricia L. Fiske

The meetings at which these talks were presented were held at The Textile Museum 2320 S Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20008

April 18-20, 1974

Library of Congress Catalogue Number 75-21585 Copyright © The Textile Museum 1975 2320 S Street, Northwest, Washington, D.C. 20008

i

TABLE OF CONTENTS Introduction by Irene Emery

1

Acknowledgements

2

1974 Planning Committee

3

1974 Roundtable Participants

4

GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES Panel Chairman: Mary Elizabeth King

7

Archaeological Textiles by Mary Elizabeth King

9

An Introduction to South American Archaeological Textiles with Emphasis on Materials and Techniques of Peruvian Tapestry by William J Conklin • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ••

17

Mesoamerican and North American Textiles by Kate Peck Kent • • • • • • • • • • •

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Archaeology and Medieval Textiles by Anne E. Wardwell • • • • • •

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Coptic Textiles by Deborah Thompson

44

..................

PRESERVATION OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES Panel Chairman: Mark D. Burnham

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Cleaning of Archaeological Textiles by Mark D. Burnham • . • • . . • Mounting of Archaeological Textiles by Eva Burnham-Staeh1i • • • • • .

47

•

•

•

•

•

•

it

•

•

•

•

52

Handling of Archaeological Textiles by Pat Reeves • • • • • • • • • • •

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Conservation of Textiles by Nobuko Kajitani

57

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P,RECOLUMBIAN SOUTH AMERICAN TEXTILES Panel Chairman: William J Conklin

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The Archaeological Looms from Peru in the American Museum of Natural History Collection by Mi1icia D. Skinner • • • . • • •

67

Pampa Grama10te Textiles by William J Conklin

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Archaeological Textiles by Eduard Verstey1en

····..···········... in the National Museums in Peru ·········... ····

Archaeological Textiles in Peru and the importance of establishing a National Textile Museum by Eduard Verstey1en • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • ••

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95

The Analysis of Weaving Patterns: Examples from the Early Periods in Peru by Dwight T. Wallace • • • • • • • • • • • .

101

The Ethics of Acquisition by Mary Elizabeth King

117

ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES OF MIDDLE AND NORTH AMERICA Panel Chairman: Kate Peck Kent

123

Seventh Century Basketmaker Textiles from Northern Arizona by Elizabeth Ann Morris • ••• • • • • • • • •

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Archaeological Fabrics from the Lower Missouri Valley by Amy E. Harvey • • • • • • • • • •

133

Prehistoric Great Basin Textiles by James M. Adovasio

141

····..···········

Textiles from the Cueva de 1a Media Luna Chiapas, Mexico A Preliminary Report by Alba Gpe. Mastache de Escobar

142

Weft-Wrap Openwork Techniques in Archaeological and Contemporary Textiles of Mexico by Irmgard W. Johnson (with additional notes on Southwestern Weft-Wrap Openwork by Kate Peck Kent) • • • • • • • • • • ••

148

···········

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ASIAN TEXTILES Panel Chairman: Dorothy G. Shepherd

151

Techniques and Problems Encountered in Certain Han and T'ang Specimens by Krishna Riboud

153

Textile Pseudomorphs on Chinese Bronzes by John Vollmer • • • • • • • • • • ••

170

The Archaeology of the Buyid Textiles by Dorothy G. Shepherd • • • • • • •

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The Physical Characteristics of Silk Generally Classified as "Buyid" by Nobuko Kajitani • • • • • • • • • • • • •

191

LATE ANTIQUE AND MEDIEVAL TEXTILES FROM EGYPT AND THE NEAR EAST Panel Chairman: Deborah Thompson

205

Textile Findings from the Aswan Region by Christa Mayer-Thurman

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Garden "Carpets" from Upper Egypt •••• by Charles Grant Ellis

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Observations on Some Monumental Egyptian Tapestries by Deborah Thompson • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

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INTRODUCTION Late in 1972, a group of curators and conservators from several museum textile departments were asked to meet at the Textile Museum in Washing.ton to consider the possibility of establishing regular meetings of museum textile professionals. Working, as they too often do, in comparative isolation in their various institutions, curators and others involved with textiles have long been aware of the lack of opportunity to meet and discuss common problems, interests, and experiences. At these meetings at the Textile Museum, plans were evolved for a three-day Roundtable on Museum Textiles whose purpose would be to provide such an opportunity. It was agreed that the concept of a "roundtablel f was important, implying as it does the principle of contribution by all participants and a size sufficiently limited to encourage discussion by the group as a whole. The first Roundtable on Museum Textiles, held in April 1973, focused on general problems encountered in working with textiles in the museum environment. Panels were arranged to deal with six specific topics: "Handling of Museum Textiles", "Analyzing and Recording of Textiles", "Environmental Control", "Textile Storage lt , "Exhioit.lnstallation of Textiles", and "Analysis as Communication lt • At the close of the first Roundtable, it was agreed that the idea clearly had considerable merit, both actual and potential. It was decided that in succeeding years, each Roundtable would explore in detail some specific groups of textiles, considering such aspects as time span, area, technique, fiber, design, and use. The Planning Committee met and chose "Archaeological Textiles" as the subject for the 1974 Roundtable on Museum Textiles. This publication contains material presented by the participants at that lIleeting. Irene Emery Curator Emeritus of Technical Studies The Textile Museum

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS It is with great pleasure that the Roundtable on Museum Textiles acknowledges its debt to Irene Emery, Curator Emeritus of Technical Studies at the Textile Museum, who originally proposed the concept of a forum for museum textile professionals. She has been consistently generous with her time and advice on all aspects of the planning of the Roundtable meetings, and we are further indebted to her for her thorough and patient reading of the manuscripts contained in this publication. Her invaluable suggestions greatly added to the clarity and accuracy of the text. The Roundtable also owes special thanks to Anthony N. Landreau, former Executive Director of the Textile Museum, who undertook to implement Miss Emery~ idea and without whose enthusiastic support and committment the Roundtable might never have become a reality. To the Planning Committee and the entire staff of the Textile Museum, the Roundtable is most grateful for concrete ideas and considerable assistance in the preparation and running of the meetings. Sincere thanks are also due Richard Robinson who generously provided us with a superb taping system, enabling us to include every talk in our publication, whether or not a manuscript could be provided, to Linda Robinson who undertook the laborious task of transcribing the tapes, to Connie Colom who prepared the final copy and to Marjorie Stoller for editorial and administrative assistance. The Roundtable on Museum Textiles wishes also to express its gratitude to the National Endowment for the Arts, a Federal Agency, for financial support in the form of matching funds which enabled us to contribute toward the travel expenses of important participants who otherwise would have been unable to attend and which has, in addition, made this publication possible. Patricia L. Fiske Coordinator for the Roundtable on Museum Textiles The Textile Museum

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1974 PLANNING COMMITTEE

Mark Burnham, Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto Irene Emery, The Textile Museum, Washington Barbara Fertig, The Textile Museum, Washington Patricia L. Fiske, The Textile Museum, Washington Nobuko Kajitani, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York Mary Elizabeth King, Museum of Texas Tech University, Lubbock Anthony N. Landreau, The Textile Museum, Washington Louise W. Mackie, The Textile Museum, Washington Clarissa Pa1mai, The Textile Museum, Washington Ann P. Rowe, The Textile Museum, Washington Larry Salmon, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston Milton Sonday, Cooper-Hewitt Museum of Decorative Arts, New York

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1974 IRENE EMERY ROUNDTABLE ON MUSEUM TEXTILES PARTICIPANTS Mark Burnham 421 Eglinton Ave., W Apt. 5 Toronto, Ontario M5N 1A4 Canada

Elizabeth Ann Coleman Brooklyn Institute of Arts & Sciences The Brooklyn Museum Eastern Parkway Brooklyn, N.Y. 11238

Eva Burnham Staehli Royal Ontario Museum 100 Queen's Park Crescent Toronto, Ontario M5S 2c6 Canada

Joseph V. Columbus National Gallery of Art 6th & Constitution Ave., N.W. Washington, D.C. 20560

Ruth M. Boyer Lowie Museum of Anthropology 171 Crest View Drive Orinda, Calif. 94563 Elizabeth P. Benson Dumbarton Oaks 1703 32nd Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20007 Anne H. Blinks Rt. 3, Box 522 Carmel, Calif, 93921 A. Alice Blohm Metropolitan Museum of Art 106 West 13th St. New York, N.Y. 10011 Margaret Kimball Brown 1002 Austin Apt. 4B Evanston, Ill. 60202 Karen Clark Department of Conservaation New York State Historical Assoc. Cooperstown, N.Y. 13326 Paul A. Clifford Duke University Museum of Art 6877 College Station Durham, N.C. 27708

Barbara Conklin American Museum of Natural History Central Park West at 79th St. New York, N.Y. 10024 William Conklin Conklin & Rossant, Architects 251 Park Avenue New York, N.Y. 10010 Vera B. Craig, Curator Textiles and Costumes National Park Service Harper's Ferry, W.Va. 25425 Elizabeth S. Cuellar Museo Universitario de Ciencias y Arte Martin Mendalde 766-12 Colonia Del Valle Mexico,12, D.F. Phyllis Dillon Metropolitan Museum of Art Fifth Ave. at 82nd St. New York, N.Y. 10028 Charles Grant Ellis 186 Fair Street Kingston, N.Y. 12401 Irene Emery The Textile Museum 2320 S Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20008

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Margaret Fikioris The H.F. DuPont Winterthur Museum Winterthur, Del. 19735 Patricia Fiske The Textile Museum 2320 S Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20008 Carina Fulton Ladywell Studio Dunkeld Perthshire Scotland

Glen Kaufman Department of Art University of Georgia Athens, Georgia 30602 Kate Peck Kent Department of Anthropology University of Denver Denver, Colo. 80210 Mary Elizabeth King The Museum of Tex. Tech Univ. P.O. Box 4499 Lubbock, Texas 79409

Veron ike Gervers Royal Ontario Museum 100 Queen's Park Crescent Toronto, Ontario M5S 2c6 Canada

Ernst Ki tzinger Busch-Reisinger Museum Harvard University Cambridge, Mass. 02138

Peggy Gilfoy Indianapolis Museum of Art 1200 W. 38th St. Indianapolis, Ind. 46208

Ann L{{vondi 39 Long Branch Ave. Toronto 14, Ontario Canada

Nancy Haller Metropolitan Museum of Art Fifth Ave. at 82nd St. New York, N.Y. 10028

Louise W. Mackie Textile Museum 2320 S Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20008

Amy Harvey Science Department Stevens College Columbia, Missouri

Jean Mailey Metropolitan Museum of Art Fifth Ave. at 82nd St. New York, N.Y. 10028

Mary Hunt Kahlenberg Los Angeles County Museum of Art 5905 Wilshire Blvd. Los Angeles, Calif. 90036

Christa Mayer-Thurman The Art Institute of Chicago Michigan Ave. at Adams Street Chicago, Illinois 60603

Nobuko 'Kajitani Metropolitan Museum of Art Fifth Ave. at 82nd St. New York, N.Y. 10028 Dena S. Katzenberg Baltimore Museum of Art Art Museum Drive Baltimore, Md. 21218

Elizabeth Ann Morris -Dept. of Anthropology Colorado State University Ft. Collins, Colorado 80521 Clarissa K. Palmai Textile Museum 2320 S Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20008

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Hilda Delgado Pang Anthropology Department Indiana State University Terre Haute, Indiana 47809

Dorothy G. Shepherd Cleveland Museum of Art 11150 East Blvd. Cleveland, Ohio 44106

Krishna Riboud Musee Guimet Par i s 54 Avenue de Breteuil Paris, France 75007

Steven M. Spivak University of Maryland College Park, Md., 20742

Pat Reeves Los Angeles County Museum of Art 5905 Wilshire Blvd. Los Angeles, Calif. 90036 Ann van Rosevelt Kelsey Museum of Medieval & Classical Archaeology 434 S. State St. Ann Arbor, Michigan 48104 Ann P. Rowe Textile Museum 2320 S Street, N.W. Washington, D.C. 20008 Larry Salmon Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Mass. 02115 Milton F. Sonday Cooper-Hewitt Museum of Decorative Arts 9 East 90th Street New York, N.Y. 10028 Anne Louise Schaffer Dumbarton Oaks 1703 32nd St., N.W. Washington, D.C. 20007 Lynn Springer The St. Louis Art Museum Forest Park St. Louis, Missouri 63110 Milica Skinner American Museum of Natural History Central Park West at 19th St. New York, N.Y. 10024

Sandra Shaffer Tinkham 2800 Wisconsin Ave., N.W. Washington, D~C. 20007 Deborah Thompson Dumbarton Oaks 117 NorTolk St. Bangor, Me. 04401 Edouard Versteylen Museo Nacional de Antropologia y Arqueologia Pueblo Libre Lima, Peru Anne E. Wardwell Cleveland Museum of Art 11150 East Blvd. Cleveland, Ohio 44106 Dwight T. Wallace State University of New York 1400 Washington Ave. Albany, N.Y. 12205

7

GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES

Panel Chairman:

Mary Elizabeth King Curator of Anthropology The Museum of Texas Tech University Lubbock

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ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES by Mary Elizabeth King, Curator of Anthropology The Museum of Texas Tech University, Lubbock The study of archaeological textiles is rather recent. If one glances at the bibliography of almost any book on the subject, one may find some references from the late 1800's, but most will be from the 20th century. Perhaps because textiles are such ephemeral creations under most conditions, it was apparently common for ancient authors to ascribe the invention of weaving to their reasonably immediate ancestors (Forbes 1956: Iff). Today we know that weaving is at least 10,000 years old and suspect that mat..,.making, netting, and other textile techniques are far older. Thanks to the techniques of modern archaeology, and probably to a more optimistic approach in looking for textile remains, we now have actual fragments from at least 8,000 B.C. in the New World and about 6,500 B.C. in the Old World. There was clearly some interest in ancient fabrics in the past. A German nobleman named Wieckmann, who lived from 1617 to 1681, collected "Coptic" textiles now in the Museum at Ulm (Volbach 1969: 31). In the late 18th and early 19th centuries Napoleonic officials also collected Coptic textiles that are now in Turin. Even in the New World, the late 18th century Bishop of Trujillo, Baltasar Jaime Martfnez de Campa~6n y Bujanda, commissioned drawings and water colors of various aspects of Peruvian life, which included archaeological textiles. None were published, however, until 1936, when five of the original 12 plates devoted to textile sketches were included in a collection (Dominguez Bordona 1936: PIa 92, 93, and 94). The beginning of real interest in archaeological textiles and the history of textiles appears to date to the 1840's, a time when there was an awakening of interest in archaeology and ancient history in general. An important work of this period was James Yates' Textrinum Antiguorum (1843), subtitled: "An Account of the Art of Weaving Among the Ancients." Only a little later (1845), The History of Silk, Cotton, Linen, Wool, and Other Fibrous Substances by Clinton Gilroy, was published. In 1851, the first book devoted to Peruvian archaeology, Antiguedades Peruanas by Mariano Eduardo Rivero and Johann Jakob von Tschudi, included four examples of textiles (1851: PIs. 37, 38). Between 1856 and 1863, Bezon's Dictionnaire General de Tissus Anciens et Modernes, in eight volumes, became perhaps the first attempt to produce a comprehensive work on the subject of textiles. In the 1860's a number of more specific works on textiles, such ~Fanny Palliser's A History of Lace, attest to a growing interest in the subject. In the next decade, a number of travellers' accounts included mention of textiles both ancient and modern, and in 1875 two Germans, Wilhelm Reiss and Alphons Stubel, excavated tombs at Ancon, in Peru. The resulting three folio volumes, published between 1880 and 1887 included numerous plates of textiles in color. In Egypt, Maspero Graf, Bock, and Gayet excavated during the 1880's and 1890's producing numbers of textile specimens (Kybalova 1967: 33).

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As nearly as I can determine, the first attempt to analyze the structure of archaeological textiles was made by William H. Holmes, who published, in 1882, Prehistoric Textile Fabrics of the United States Derived from Impressions on Pottery. Holmes continued to publish widely on the prehistoric textiles of both North and South America through the late 1800's and early 1900's. From this point on, a growing interest in both archaeology and material culture led to numerous pUblications, in the 1920's, '30's, and '40's, on archaeological textiles and their analysis. Even Irene Emery's encyclopedic work on The Primary Structures of Fabrics (1966) had its beginnings in the 1940's. After a brief period of less interest in the 1950's and '60's, textile studies are now having something of Renaissance stirred by the current widespread interest in crafts and their histories. Good summaries of the early history and prehistory of weaving are rare. Only two come to mind: Grace Crowfoot's (1954) "Textiles, Basketry, and Mats," in Volume 1 of A History of Technology, and R. J. Forbes' (1956) history in Volume 14 of his Studies in Ancient Techno~. Neither is all-inclusive nor pretends to be. Forbes deals only with the Old World. Crowfoot devotes one paragraph to Peru. Both are now somewhat out of date. The world history of textile technology has not yet been written. In the 18 years since Forbes' publication, a number of finds have pushed the dating of the oldest extant textiles back at least 3000 years. The textiles found at Qatal HUyUk in Anatolia by James Mellaart (1967: 218ff};Burnham (1965) appear to represent plain weaves, twining and twill, as well as matting and coiled basketry. They date in the range of 6500 B.C. They are apparently not wool, as first suggested, but are important nonetheless. A single, carbonized textile fragment was found at Bagh-No in Iran by Frank Hole and Kent Flannery (Hole, private communication April 1974). A radiocarbon date of 4250 B.C. for the level in which it was found is probably too young. In the New World, plain weave occurs as early as 2000 B.C. from Desert Cave, and other basketry techniques date to 8000 B.C. (Jennings 1957; Adovasio 1970). Recent discoveries in Guitarrero Cave in Peru (Advasio and Lynch 1973) push twining and interlinking to between 8600 and 8000 B.C., while plain weave dates to 5780 B.C. In Mexico, Kent Flannery's excavations in the Oaxaca Valley have produced knotted netting and coiled basketry with dates between 7000 and 6500 B.C. and even older cordage, some of which may date to before 8000 B.C. (King, in press). A number of other Mexican textiles date between 7000 and 5000 B.C. (MacNeish 1958; MacNeish personal communication March 1973; Johnson 1971). None of us has any feeling that any of these textiles are the earliest in the world. All must have been preceded by many years of manipulation of plant fiber. All of these early finds appear to be of non-cotton plant fiber of one sort or another. Amazingly enough there must now be more than several dozen textile fragments in the world that date to at least

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5000 B.C. I have no doubt that this number will be multiplied many time in the next few decades, and even earlier finds may be made. I would assume that by the Upper Paleolithic, man was making cordage, probably netting, and perhaps interlaced matting and twining. I would also be willing to hypothesize that some such textile techniques were brought across the Bering Straits to the New World by early man. The study of archaeological textiles is a rather special field, requiring, if not special talents, at least a very particular kind of patience and persistence. The textiles themselves also present special problems in handling, cleaning, preserving, restoring, and storage. No one who has never worked on an almost microscopic fragment adhered to bronze or a few centimeters of charred fabric that becomes powder when touched can ever truly understand the difficulties and frustrations encountered by the student of ancient textiles. The very problem of preserving archaeological textiles in the field long enough to excavate and study them has led, I am sure, to many archaeologists simply throwing up their hands in defeat. I sometimes wonder about the sanity of those of us who have chosen to spend our professional careers trying to decipher the structures of these minute and fragile bits of only a small portion of the past. Even if we were sane to begin with, our field of study would probably leave us somewhat demented. I think of a number of examples: the hours that Milica Dimitrievitch Skinner spent over a microscope tracing warp movements in pre-ceramic twined textiles, whose color contrasts were long since lost, in order to reproduce the original, now invisible, patterning; Vivi Sylwan and others who somehow managed to recover structure and design from tiny fragments of Chinese silks adhered to bronzes; and even my own struggles with one square centimeter of an ancient Great Lakes textile that proved to contain four different techniques or technique variations. Nonetheless, in recent years, long after I began to study archaeological textiles, I have come to regard them as perhaps the most culturally revealing of all categories of artifacts. These tiny fragments with which we so tediously struggle, once were a very important part of the lives of individuals in the past. While textiles can serve purposes, most of their uses are highly personal. Perhaps the most common use is for clothing; the second most common is probably for household purposes, both decorative and practical. The intimacy of man's association with his textile production is far greater than that with pottery, tools, or other items he manufactures. Clothing becomes an extension of one's body and personality. Sociologists, psychologists, home economists, and anthropologists have long pointed out the enormous range of values, attitudes, techniques, and functions that are associated with dress. Consequently, archaeological textiles could and should tell us a great deal about the behavior of people in the past. Few studies actually relating textiles and culture have been done, though anthropologists and others have suggested possible lines of investigation. In 1948, Walter Taylor suggested,

12

in A Study of Archaeology (1964: 157ff), that what he calls "cultural configurations" (a term borrowed from Clyde IQuckhon) might be derived from yarns, basketry, and textiles. As an example of cultural configurations, he cites the concern for design related to structural wholes among the San Juan Basket-Makers and contrasts this with the total lack of concern for over-all patterning and regularity displayed in textiles from a burial cave in Coahuila. In a second example (1964: 160-161), cordage from Lovelock Cave in Nevada was compared with that from Coahuila. The Lovelock cordage showed a pattern of S final twist for twoply cordage, and S-Z for what Taylor calls "compound" cordage (he records no initial spin). Coahuila cordage, on the other hand, had a final twist of Z in two-ply, but was plied S-Z in compound yarns. Taylor (1964: 161) interprets this as indicating that the Coahuila people "would seem to have had an ideal pattern for string, and they saw to it that the final product conformed, whether it was two-ply or compound." All of us can think of other examples of configurations of this sort . • • the use of crude sewing stitches on beautifully executed Peruvian embroideries for example. In a brief paper presented at last year's roundtable, William Conklin hypothesized that archaeological textiles might form the basis for a study of ancient numerical systems and presented illustrations suggesting that the Mexican counting system had a vigesimal base and Peruvian a decimal base. Conklin's paper has forced me to realize that no other category of material culture depends so strongly and so obviously on counting. Much more research can clearly be done on this fascinating subject. These are only two areas of research which could profitably be pursued. Others which come immediately to mind are studies of color systems, psychological factors, environmental relationships, religious practices, economic behavior (including trade, tribute, and manufacturing practices), status and rank, both enculturation and acculturation, the use of textiles as temporal and geographical markers, and so on al~ost to infinity. Another highly significant area for research is in the testing of anthropological hypotheses about human behavior, for the past provides almost our only laboratory for experimentation. I do not wish to ignore or downgrade the historical and aesthetic studies that can be profitably made, using archaeological textiles, nor the purely technical studies. These, however, have been the traditional approach to ancient textiles. I suggest that we need not limit ourselves to them. We perhaps tend to regard archaeological textiles in an impersonal manner, when they represent highly personal artifacts. We should value them as much for what they can tell us about their creators and owners as for their own intrinsic beauty and complexity. Our discussions for the next few days will cover a wide range of topics relating to archaeological textiles, their collection, study, and conservation. Perhaps for the first time in history,we have a conference devoted to the archaeological textiles of both the Old World

13

and the New. Certainly, many of the problems we encounter in our studies are mutual ones. lam sure that the interchange possible in a roundta~le of this sort will furnish all of us with new ideas in the crucial areas of handling, preserving, and analyzing archaeological textiles and will make us all aware of the present stage of knowledge in each of the geographical areas represented. Some aspects of the study of textiles will not be dealt with in any depth here, notably the special techniques of fiber and dye analysis. These topics will, however, be discussed in a symposium. entitled, "Current Applications of Scientific Analysis to the Study of Archaeological Materials: Some Examples from Pre-Columbian Meso- and South America;" to be held on Saturday, May 4,9:00 to 12:00 A.M., as a part of the Society for American Archaeology annual meetings. A "rap session" on the same topic will be held at 8:00 P.M. on the same date. Although this symposium covers all aspects of analysis, at least two papers will deal specifically with textile analysis. Our panelists this morning have agreed to make brief presentations on the state of archaeological textile research in four areas. Each of these individuals will later chair a panel on these topics. William J. Conklin, trustee of the Textile Museum, will present "Pre-Columbian South American Textiles"; Kate Peck Kent, Chairman of the Department of Anthropology at the University of Denver, will speak on "Archaeological Textiles of Middle and North America"; Anne Wardwell, Assistant Curator of Textiles at the Cleveland Museum of Art, will deal with "Islamic Textiles"; and Deborah Thompson, Advisor in Textiles at Dumbarton Oaks, will speak on "Coptic Textiles." I regret only that, owing to distances and economics, we have no panel on early European textiles. After the presentations, we will be delighted to have questions from the roundtable participants.

14

Literature Cited: Adovasio, James M. 1970

"The Origin, Development, and Distribution of Western Archaic Textiles, " Tebiwa, Vol. 13, No.2, pp. 1-40. Idaho State Univ. Museum, Pocatello, Idaho.

Adovasio, James M. and Thomas F. Lynch 1973

"Pre-ceramic Textiles and Cordage from Guitarrero Cave, Peru," American Antiquity, Vol. 38, No.1, pp. 84-90. Washington, D.C.

Bezon, Jean 185663

Dictionnaire Lyon.

~enera1

des Tissus Anciens et Modernes.

Burnham, H. 1965

"Cata1 Huyuk - The Textiles and Twine Fabrics," Anatolian Studies, Vol. 15, pp. 169-174. London.

Crowfoot, Grace. 1954

"Textiles, Basketry, and Mats," A History of Technology, edited by Charles Singer, et a1., Vol. 1, pp. 413447. Clarendon Press, Oxford.

Dominguez Bordona, Jesus, ed. 1936

Trujillo del Peru a fines del sig10 XVIII; dibujos y acuare1as que mando hacer e1 obispo D. Ba1tasar Jaime Martinez Companon. Madrid.

Emery, Irene 1966

The Primary Structures of Fabrics. Washington.

The Textile Museum,

Forbes, R. J. 1956

Studies in Ancient Technology, Vol. IV.

E.J. Brill, Leiden.

Gilroy, Clinton G. 1945

The History of Silk, Cotton, Linine, Wool, and other Fibrous Substances • . . Harper and Bros., New York.

15 Holmes, William H. 1882

"Prehistoric Textile Fabrics of the United States, derived from Impressions on Pottery," Smithsonian Institution, Bureau of Ethnology, 3rd Annual Report, pp. 393-425. Washington.

Jennings, Jesse D. 1957

"Danger Cave," Memoirs of the Society for American Archaeology, No. 14. Washington, D.C.

Johnson, Irmgard W. 1971

"Basketry and Textiles," Handbook of Middle American Indians, Vol. 10, edited by Gordon Ekholm and Ignacio Bernal, pp. 297-321. University of Texas Press, Austin.

King, Mary Elizabeth In press "The Prehistoric Textile Industry of Mesoamerica," The Junius B. Bird Pre-Columbian Textile Conference. Dumbarton Oaks and the Textile Museum, Washington. Kybalova, Lundmila 1967

Coptic Textiles.

Paul Hamlyn, London.

MacNeish, Richard S. 1958

"Preliminary Archaeological Investigations in the Sierra de Tamaulipas, Mexico," Transactions of the American · Philosophical Society, Vol. 48, Ft. 6. Philadelphia.

Mellaart, James 1967

Catal Huyuk.

McGraw Hill, New York.

Palliser, Fanny 1869

A History of Lace, 2nd ed. London.

Sampson Low, Son and Marston,

Reiss, Wilhelm and Alphons Stubel 188087

The Necropolis of Ancon in Peru.

A. Asher and Co., Berlin.

Rivero, Mar; l'I.no Eduardo and Johann Jakob von Tschudi 1851

Antiguedades Peruanas.

Vienna.

16

Taylor, Walter W.

1964

A Study of Archaeology. Carbondale.

Southern Illinois University Press,

Volbach, W. Fritz

1969

Early Decorative Textiles.

Paul Hamlyn, London.

Yates, James

1843

Textrinum Antiquorum: An Account of the Art of Weaving among the Ancients. Taylor and Walton, London.

17

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOUTH AMERICAN ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES with Emphasis on Materials and Techniques of Peruvian Tapestry

by William J Conklin Research Associate, Institute of Andean Studies Berkeley, California

Archaeological textiles from Argentina, Chile (Bird 1943), and Ecuador (Marcos 1973) have been discovered and recorded, but the primary body of textiles which we have available are those which come from Peru. Hundreds of thousands of textiles with that general provenance exist, scattered in collections and museums throughout the world. They constitute a set of diagnostic artifacts of great value in the archaeologist's effort to reconstruct ancient cultural history. Archaeological textiles, in this context, are considered to be all those which were buried, preserved, and subsequently discovered and recorded. Although there is no technical reason why colonial textiles could not have been preserved and subsequently discovered by excavation, there is virtually no record of any such discovery. This presentation is limited, therefore, to Pre-Columbian texti1es--that is, those that were created by the indigenous cultures in South America prior to the conquest by the Spaniards in the 16th century. The known ancient Andean cultures occupied a large geographic area which included many different climatic conditions and covered a time period in the coastal areas of more than 4000 years, beginning in the third mi11enium B.C. Highland cultures, as yet poorly understood, may well prove to be more ancient. The complexity of this cultural history can be compared to that of the Mediterranean world of a similar time period. Archaeologists have divided this complex history into geographic areas and into time periods. The coastal region has a Northern, a Central, and a Southern section, with the highland areas also divided into regions. These inland mountain areas were the focus of many phases of ancient Peruvian culture; however, very few textiles have been preserved from the highlands. Our understanding of the textile traditions of these highland cultures can only be inferred by their influence on the coast, predominantly a desert region where buried textiles are often in a state of astonishing preservation. The shaded areas on the chart (Fig. 1) indicate the presence within coastal areas of recovered archaeological textiles. The 4000 year cultural history has three distinct time markers which are called "Horizons". These three--Ear1y Horizon, the Middle Horizon, and the Late Horizon--denote those brief periods in Peruvian history when much of Peru underwent a profound but coherent cultural change. The Preceramic and the Initial Period precede the Early Horizon, and time between horizons is called an Intermediate Period. These generalizations have been largely based on the all-pervasive evidence of ceramics, although weaving history also shows clear evidence of ' the same time markers.

18

In order to illustrate the possible value to cultural history of this large body of textiles, this survey focuses on a single technique, that of tapestr~ and traces its materials and structural history. The illustrated examples are not always the most common textiles for the periods, but may be textiles that demonstrate special temporal and spatial relationships, or that mark turning points in the textile history. It should be noted that the way in which the detailed structure of Peruvian textiles was organized appears to be quite specific to the originating culture. In general, the more complex the structure of the weaving, the more diagnostic the textile. Plain weaves, for example, have little distinct cultural identity. Tapestry is perhaps intermediate in this scale of complexity, but was a widely used weaving technique and thus serves well for a discussion of archaeological textiles and cultural relationships. The North Coast On the North Coast of Peru an astonishing record of early textile technology exists in the 9000 fragments excavated at the Huaca Prieta and now in the American Museum of Natural History. (Bird 1951-52 and 1962.) The earliest of these textiles from the Preceramic period are of spaced weft twining construction. A wide variety of early twining and subsequent weaving techniques for both decorative and structural purposes were found and provide us with remarkable insights into the art and technology of this early period. Patterning in the Preceramic textiles and in the Initial Period textiles, however, is created by manipulation of warp and weft, with no evidence of the use of discontinuous or supplemental elements. A few Early Horizon textiles, apparently from the highland-centered Chavin culture, have been found on the North Coast(Bird 1964 and Conklin 1971). Some of these textiles show the earliest North Coast use of supplemental weft techniques and others are of tapestry with discontinuous weft. But it is not until well into the Early Intermediate Period that the textile record begins to become more complete. The earliest recorded use of wool (camelid) on the North Coast occurs in a Gallinazo textile fragment (Fig. 2 ) (Bird 1952). The Gallinazo culture occurs in the time period after the end of the Early Horizon but before the beginning of thp. Moche Culture. The textile has a combination of techniques, including tapestry, creating an overall pattern of mUltiple headed snake-like figures. One set of figures is constructed of lxl cotton plainweave with discontinuous weft. The other is constructed of discont~nuous weft also; but the weft is wool, pale yellow or pink, and is compactly woven over pairs of the cotton warps creating a weft-faced surface of wool. White cotton, weft faced and on paired warps, is used to outline the eyes of the figures woven in wool. These ringed eyes resemble the eyes on Gallinazo ceramics. In the use of both cotton plain weave and weft-faced wool, the textile suggests the way in which wool tapestry must have begun. The structural technique must have been a familiar one, derived from the Chavin cotton

19

textile precedents. The pattern, found also as a relief on Gallinazo walls (Lumbreras 1969), dates from the old maritime preceramic culture long before Chavin. The wool has been imported and introduced for the colors which wool dyeing could produce, being more intensive than the old cotton colors. This first North Coast use of wool, in being restricted to only a portion of the textile, clearly suggests that highland wool, for the Gallinazo culture, was a precious commodity. A small bag found in a burial on Huaca del Sol by the Chan ChanMoche Valley Project and now in the Museo Nacional de Antropologia y Arqueologia in Lima is the earliest known textile from the subsequent Moche Culture. The bag is cotton double cloth with dyed wool supplemental discontinuous weft. The hues of the wool dyes are still the old Chavin colors, pale yellows and pinks, used against natural cotton backgrounds. Highland wool was apparently still precious. Tapestry, with cotton or wool weft, must have existed in early Moche times, but none is yet recorded. The earliest known examples of Moche tapestry actually come from the very end of the culture from the site of Pacatnamu (Ubbelohde-Doering 1967). This fragment, (Fig. 3 ) now in the Museo Nacional de la Cultura Peruana in Lima, is constructed in a slit tapestry technique, using primarily wool for the weft. Cotton weft is used only for the small white areas of the design. The Moche culture, after complex changes during the Middle Horizon, evolved into the highly organized state called the Chimu Empire with its capital at Chan-Chan on the North Coast. An indication of textile specialization during this period is a group of hundreds of miniature textile samples and costumes found in a single grave and now in the Bruning Museum in Lanbayeque, Peru. Each sample of cotton plain weave differs slightly in its colors and weave. Miniature ponchos in multi-colored wool slit tapestry suggest the richness and variety of actual Chimu costumes. Textile beads from the same grave lot show the diversity of purposes for which the weaving arts were used. Chimu weaving in general follows Moche precedents, but adds elaborate supplemental decorative material such as feathers, metal, beads, and tassels. The Central Coast Excavations in the Central Coast have provided an extensive record of Preceramic and Initial Period twining and p'lainweaves (Moseley 1967 and Engel 1963). The earliest examples of tapestry though date from the Early Horizon, and were found at Supe (O'Neale 1954). Each of the two tapestry fragments found shows a condor head, characteristic of Chavin art. Each fragment is actually a plain weave with the tapestry portion 'limited to the representation of the condor head. The tapestry technique utilizes eccentric weft with weft dovetailing around a common warp. These textiles, now in the American Museum of Natural History (41.2/5517), are entirely of cotton. Several groups of textiles have also been recorded from the Central Coast during the following Early Intermediate Period. Wool wefts have

20

been recorded in a single textile from a group which were otherwise entirely of cotton, and were associated with Miramar material (Harner 1973). From Playa Grande, and associated with Lima 4 style material, though, has come the earliest Central Coast wool weft tapestry (Harner 1973). At Maranga, a few all-cotton tapestry fragments as well as some wool tapestry have been recorded, also from the last phase of the Lima Culture (Wallace 1954). Various forms of weft interlocking occur in these late Lima textiles. The presence of all-cotton tapestry as late as this time period suggests that wool was still not available in quantity. But many Central Coast textiles remain from the Middle Horizon and will eventually help us to plot the complex cultural influences which interacted during this time period. A major influence on this Central Coast area was the highland Wari Culture, whose most superb textiles, although found on the coast, were undoubtedly made in the highlands. A fragment-found at Huarmey and now at the Amano Museum in Lima (Fig. 4) is typical in its bright colors, abstract iconography, and superb technique. The hawk head is a frequent motif in Wari iconography. Although we have no real record of how the highland iconographic tradition was transmitted over the 2000 years which separate Wari from the Early Horizon, a strong cultural continuity exists. Another influence on the Central Coast during the Middle Horizon was the Moche Culture. A detail from a tapestry shirt, probably from the Central Coast and now in the Museum of the American Indian in New York, shows both Wari and Moche influence (Fig. 5). In its colors, general planning, and in its use of slit tapestry with the slits sewn together to resemble the interlock technique, this shirt shows evidence of having a Wari model. Its iconography, however, is distinctly Moche--a representation of the Moche crab diety holding a weapon in one hand and a Moche goblet in the other. This garment must have been woven by coastal people during a period of interaction between these two alien and competing Middle Horizon cultures. After the Middle Horizon, however, slit tapestry from the Moche tradition became the most prominent technique used in the late Central Coast cultures, with the Chancay Valley, for example, containing many thousands of such textiles well-preserved (Versteylen 1971). A slit tapestry poncho from the Late Intermediate Period of the Central Coast now in the Textile Museum (1960.6.3) shows birds which became prominent motifs in late coastal cultures. Realistic and sometimes humorous representations of these coastal birds replace the demonic highland condor. The South Coast The South Coast textile history also begins with a Pre-ceramic and an Initial Period of twining and weaving (Gayton 1967). In all three coastal areas the textile record for Periods also includes sing1e-

21

element construction with the knotted fishnet and single-element looping frequent constructions. Twining and weaving, both of which involve two sets of elements, continued without the use of discontinuous weft or supplemental yarns until the introduction of a whole range of such techniques with the Chavin cultural influence during the Early Horizon. The most famous Peruvian textiles are undoubtedly those of the South Coast from the Paracas and early Nazca Cultures. Paracas textiles were highly dependent upon the introduction of wool. Their rich weaving technology seems to stem directly from the supplemental and discontinuous yarn techniques introduced by the Chavin textiles, but tapestry itself is rare (King 1965). Embroidery using brilliantly dyed wool on a cotton base is perhaps the most characteristic technique. One of the Early Horizon examples of all~cotton tapestry found on the South Coast is a textile fragment which contains a flying bird with late Chavin design elements and Chavin colors (Fig. 6). It is more regular in its technique than the Early Horizon condor head found on the Central Coast, but has no interlocking or dovetailing. The tapestry technique is confined to the bird figure. One of the somewhat later wool textiles of the South Coast Early Horizon is a fragment (Fig. 7 ) from a group of tapestries now in the Haffenreffer Museum of Anthropology in Bristol, Rhode Island. This early tapestry used paired cotton warps with colored wool weft in a slit tapestry structure. The iconography is closer to Chavin than Paracas. This first use of wool weft tapestry on the South Coast occurs at least a thousand years before a similar product appears on the North Coast. The introduction of wool to the Central Coast falls midway between the two. The time differences are especially remarkable because of the roughly parallel textile development of the three coastal areas during the Preceramic and Initial Periods. Further, the identical impetus was given all three areas by the introduction of the Chavin technical weaving inventions. The South Coast's early and continuing access to quantities of highland wool indicates strong trade connections between the highland and the South Coast. This wool trade seems to have developed later on the Central Coast, and still later on the North Coast. Also this South Coast access to wool gave a stimulus to its textile development which lasted until the general leveling of such regional differenees during the Middle Horizon. But wool tapestry apparently received only minor emphasis amongst the proliferation of techniques that rapidly developed in early South Coast weaving history. In the latter part of the Paracas Culture and the beginning of the Nazca Culture, intricate three-dimensional iconographic representation was created by using a cross-knit loop stitch and crossknit looping. The famous and complex Paracas mantle now in the Brooklyn Museum in New York (38.121) uses these techniques as well as a directly derived Chavin technique called "warp wrapping" (Conklin 1971).

22

The latter part of the Nazca Culture continued early Nazca and Paracas techniques, although in less elaborate forms. Slit tapestry was used for belts and bands and occasionally for large textiles. The art styles and techniques of the Nazca Culture end with the multiple influences of the Middle Horizon. An extraordinary tapestry glove, now in the Brooklyn Museum (58.204), portrays the cross-cultural influences of the Middle Horizon. Reportedly found on the South Coast near Ica, the glove shows strong l-Ioche iconographic influence; but it is very fine interlocked wool weft tapestry, the weaving technology of highland Wari. In the Late Intermediate Period, the weaving on the South Coast did not continue the use of fine interlocked wool weft tapestery. Not many textiles survive from the South Coast for this time period, but one technique that is characteristic has been referred to as underf10at weft tapestry (A. Rowe 1970). This technique sometimes results in textiles that seem to be in imitation of the highland interlocked tapestry tradition of tne Middle Horizon. The Highlands But Incas, a areas of nique in 1973).

during the Late Horizon, just prior to the Spanish conquest, the highland people, reintroduced fine interlock tapestry to the the coast which came under their control. The use of this techtheir official garments is an indication of its prestige (J. Rowe

An Inca shirt which is now in the Dumbarton Oaks Collection (B-518. PT) utilizes this highland weaving technology, and contains in its patterning a myriad of geometric motifs, each of which may have been derived from a tribe or culture conquered and incorporated by the Incas. The renaissance of the technique suggests continuity from the Wari Culture, but as yet that continuing highland trad,ition is without textile evidence. The design of this Inca shirt, with its federation of motifs and its renewed statement of the ancient highland interlock tradition, represents a kind of final document of South American Pre-Columbian weaving history. However, this vast quantity of recovered Pre-Columbian textiles which makes possible this tentative outline of tapestry history comes exclusively from coastal areas. Our knowledge of invention and change in the local weaving traditions of coastal areas may become quite complete with new archaeological work and with analysis of existing collections. But our knowledge of highland weaving remains ,extremely tentative. The partial evidence which we do have, though, suggests that highland weaving developed much earlier thaa coastal weaving and apparently always carried extraordinary prestige and quality. Each of the three Horizons brought highland people into coastal areas, and in each case their weaving was brought with them and was inventive, prestigious and influential. These brief glimpses of highland tradition consistently suggest quite independent and advanced weaving technology. In 1973 two archaeologists (Adovasio and Lynch 1973) reported on the discovery of plain weaves, twining, and single element constructions from a highland cave, with

23

radiocarbon dates of nearly 6000 B.C. or more than three thousand years earlier than the appearance of such textiles on the coast. No discontinuous or supplemental techniques, though, were present. Such a discovery, however, only increases our awareness of how little archaeological knowledge we have concerning this extremely important sierra weaving tradition.

24 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE PERUVIAN COAST Master Sequence I ca !South CoasU North Coast Central Coast

Comments

Archeol ogical Text i les

I III 1111

-,

-

,

I

,

,

,

-I

10

I ca

,

' 0

Relative Chronology

·· ·, ·,

,

Colonial Period lWl

2

1000

1

;

a h

a

Wool Tapestry

••

0

v

.

, -

v

a

,

a

, ;,

, ;

IV

I

,

I

~ rff

Salinar

Tembladera !Tecapa)

c

~' ~r

rl~

1

·• ·,

500

1

7

3

,

,

s

A. D. B. C. I-

I~h~_c~!~c~

Early Intermed iate Per iod

3

1

1

·•

Middle Horizon

•

· ·

0

?

-

.

·

D

-

Miramar

,

Late Intermediate Period

"

·,,

7

~1

• • ~~llrab.ll4I

Disco ntinuous W eft

,

~

j

II

Cotton Tapest ry

..

Hor;lon

1

;-

,

7

IHII!tli.1iUIIII Wool weft

;v

l O ll!

• ~, Ie ,

7

500

10

·· · · 7

~jlt1r~ 1IIIIff[hlllllllllllllllll:

1000

___ ____ l ______

1500

Early Horizon

s

3

2 1

Con sue lo Guaiiape

Haldas

Initial Period

i Weav ing

Twining

cott~~ cultivated

Fig. 1

2000

it

i

)

2500

Preceramic

3000

Chronological Table of the Peruvian Coast, with Added Textile Information

This table, based upon the one developed and published by Rowe and Menzel (1967) contains information concerning textiles which has been added by the author. The shading covers those areas from which textiles have been recovered. The small dot .row represents the earliest known use of wool in textiles within a given coastal zone. The large dot row represents the earliest known use of all wool weft tapestry, within a given coastal zone. New data can be expected to produce earlier dates.

25

Fig. 2

Gallinazo Cotton Textile with Wool Weft Tapestry Pattern

The wool weft, much of which is now missing, formed a brightly colored snake head pattern with the cotton plain weave. This use of wool is the earliest recorded for the North Coast of Peru. The ringed eyes are somewhat like those used on Gallinazo ceramics. warp: single ply, S spun cotton, l4/cm. cotton weft: single ply, S spun, II/em. natural white color. wool weft: 2 ply, S spun, tapestry woven over paired warps, colored pink and yellow. Collected by W.D. Strong, Viru Valley Project, Site V.5l, Cat 1, Level 2.75-

3.00.

AMNH Fig. 3

Moche Tapestry from Pacatnamu

This Moche V tapestry band is constructed of many colors of wool weft on cotton warps, except for the white parts of the design which have cotton weft. The slit tapestry technique uses stepped diagonals with occasional use of eccentric white cotton weft outlining. The obscure iconography appears to portray a supernatural mountain scene. warp: 2 ply, S spun cotton, 8/cm. wool seft: 2 ply S spun or single ply S spun, in many shades of yellow, re~ crown, and gray. Excavated by Ubbelohed-Doering in 1938. Burial E-l. Museo de la Cultura Peruana, Lima. Conklin Photo.

26

Fig. 4

Wari Tapestry

This detail shows the side selvedge of an all wool weft interlocked tapestry poncho found on the North-Central coast at Huarmey. The condor head and geometric tail pattern are perhaps the most common repetitive pattern found in highland Wari textiles. The use of wool in the warp, the quality of sewing at the join of the selvedges and the fine and compact weft are also characteristics of the highland tradition. warp: 2 ply with one ply Z spun cotton and one ply Z spun wool, 11/cm. weft: 2 ply Z spun with numerous brilliant colors. Museo Amano, Lima.

Fig. 5

Moche-Wari Tapestry

Motif from an all wool weft tapestry poncho, provenance unknown, but probably from the Central Coast. The layout of the poncho indicates Wari influence. The construction is slit tapestry but the slits have been sewn together. Eccentric weft outlining occurs. The representation is that of a Moche crab diety. warp: 2 ply, S spun cotton, 8/cm. weft: 2 ply, Z spun wool. colors: red, blue, orange, pink, brown, black, and white. Museum of the American Indian. Conklin photo.

Conklin photo.

27

Fig. 6

Early Horizon Cotton Textile

Probably from the South Coast site of Chucho. The design of the bird is related to both Chavin and to ParacasNazca, but the technical aspects of the weaving relate to Chavin. The figure is colored cotton slit tapestry set in a plain weave ground. warp: 2 ply, S spun, natural white cotton, 21/cm. weft for the plainweave: single ply, S spun, natural white cotton. weft for the figure: paired, single ply S spun, colored over pairs of warp. colors: pink, yellow, brown, and white. Private Collection. Conklin photo.

Fig. 7

Early Horizon Wool Weft Tapestry

Probably from the Paracas area of the South Coast. The design is of Chavin derived figures, but the selvedge to selvedge use of wool weft indicates a date subsequent to the cotton tapestries. Slit tapestry with occasional dovetailing. wavp: 2 ply, S spun cotton, natural white, II/em. weft: . single ply wool, S spun over warp pairs. colors: brown, yellow, orange, red, gray Haffenreffer Museum.

Photo by Conklin.

28

BIBLIOGRAPHY Adovasio, James M. and Lynch, Thomas F. 1973

"Preceramic Textiles and Cordage from Guitarrero Cave, Peru," American Antiquity, 38:1, pp. 84-89. Washington, D.C.

Bird, Junius B. 1943

"Excavations in Northern Chile," Anthropological Papers, American Museum of Natural History, 38:4, pp. 71-318. New York.

1952

Appendix 3. Textile Notes in Cultural Stratigraphy in the Viru Valley Northern Peru by Strong, W.D. and Evans, C., Jr. Columbia University Press, pp. 358-360. New York.

"Art and Life in Old Peru: An Exhibition," Curator, American Museum of Natural History, 2:147-210. New York. Bird, Junius B. and Bennett, Wendell C. 1962

1964

Andean Culture History. American Museum Science Books, Garden City, New York.

Bird, Junius B. and Mahler, Joy 1951-1952

"America's Oldest Cotton Fabrics," American Fabrics, 20:73-78. New York.

Conklin, William J 1971

"Chavin Textiles and the Origins of Peruvian Weaving," Textile Museum Journal, 111:2, pp. 13-19. Washington, D.C.

Dwyer, Edward 1973

"Early Horizon Tapestry from South Coastal Peru," Abstract, Junius B. Bird Pre-Columbian Textile Conference, Textile Museum and Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D.C.

Engel, Frederic 1963

"A Preceramic Settlement on the Central Coast of Peru: Asia, Unit 1," Transactions of the American Philosophical Society, New Series, 53:3, Philadelphia.

29

Gayton, Anna H. "Textiles from Hacah, Peru," Nawpa Pacha, 5:1-14, Berkeley, Calif.

1967 Harner, Sandra

"An Early Intermediate Period Textile Sequence from Ancon, Peru," Abstract, Junius B. Bird Pre-Columbian Textile Conference, Textile Museum and Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D.C.

1973

King, Mary Elizabeth 1965

"Textiles and Basketry of the Paracas Period, Ica Valley, Peru," Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Arizona.

Lumbreras, Luis Guillermo 1969

Antigua Peru. Lima, Peru: Editores Asociadas, Moncloa-Campodonico.

Marcos, Jorge G. 1973

"Two Loomed Textiles in a Late Valdivia Context (Ecuador)", Abstract, Junius B. Bird Pre-Columbian Textile Conference, Textile Museum and Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D.C. Moseley, M. Edward and Barrett, Linda K. 1969

"Change in Preceramic Twined Textiles from the Central Peruvian Coast," American Antiquity, 34:2, pp. 162-5. Washington, D.C.

O'Nea1e, Lila M. 1954

"Textiles," Early Ancon and Early Supe Cultures by Willey, G.r. and Corbett, J.M. Columbia University Press, pp. 84-130. New York.

Rowe, Ann P. 1970

"A Group of Late Intermediate Period Textiles from Ica, Peru," M.A. Thesis, University of California, Berkeley.

Rowe, John H. 1973

Peruvian Archaeology: Selected Readings. cations, Palo Alto.

Peek Publi-

Ubbe1ohde-Doering, Heinrich 1967

On the Royal Highways of the Inca. Praeger, New York.

30

Versteylen, Eduardo C. 1971

Tecnicas Textiles del Valle de Chancay. de San Marcos, Lima, Peru.

Univ. Nac. Mayor

Wallace, Dwight T. 1954

Appendix II: "Proto-Lima Cloths from Maranga" in ProtoLima: A Middle Period Culture of Peru by Kroeber, A.L. Fieldiana: Anthropology, 44:1, pp. 127-148. Natural History Museum, Chicago.

31

MESOAMERICAN AND NORTH AMERICAN TEXTILES

by Kate Peck Kent Department of Anthropology University of Denver, Denver

The Panel on Mesoamerican and North American archaeological textiles is weighted on the side of findings from north of the Mexican border. Two of the five papers, however, deal with Mexican material. These will be read in their authors' absence and, hopefully, will elicit discussion from the floor on Mesoamerican finds. It seems appropriate by way of introduction to the papers on North America to give you a very general picture of aboriginal textile arts north of the Mexican border. Textiles were fabricated in a variety of techniques by Indians from Mexico into southern Canada, and along the west coast of North America to southeastern Alaska. Fibers varied in accordance with the resources of the area, of course. Plants such as apocynum (Indian hemp), nettle, yucca, cedar and elm bark were used. Human hair and several kinds of animal hair and wools have been identified--buffalo, bear, mountain goat, rabbit, fox, muskrat, dog and others. Of these fibers, only human hair and the dog hair used in archeological horizons of the Southwest, and probably prehistorically in the Puget Sound area, could be called domestic. Everything else was gathered from nature. The evidence at hand indicates that textiles employing these fibers were woven by non-100m techniques. There are several kinds of twining, braiding, plaiting, netting, looping and coiling. It is probable that some weaves involved fastening warps rigidly on a frame. We have accounts of Paiute Indians in the Great Basin making rabbit fur blankets on a frame, sometimes described as lying flat, just above the ground and horizontal, and sometimes discribed as vertical. We also have a very sketchy account of early historic Cherokee using a horizontal frame. The Salish two-bar weaving frame may also have been employed in pre-European times. There is no good evidence, however, for the Use of a true 100m with heddles controlling warp sets, in conjunction with non-domestic fibers or dog hair in prehistoric North America. We do find the cotton plant and loom with heddles appearing sometime around 700 A.D. in the Southwest, as an introduction from Mexico, to be superimposed on the earlier non-loom tradition. Onc~ established, loomweaving became a major art which survived ,among the historic Pueblo peoples of the Southwest, with modifications largely in terms of the use of wool and commerical dyes, into recent times. Indeed, it is still practiced by the Hopi of northern Arizona to some extent. (This pre-Spanish Pueblo tradition furnished the source for contemporary Navajo weaving.) The picture I have given is logocial findings. We should not dept a date in a given tradition what we call ethnographic. Much

based on ethnographic as well as archeoforget that there may be no difference exbetween what we call archeological and of our best evidence for North American,

32

and I am sure for Mexico and perhaps South America, is the ethnographic data, on the basis of which one can project back into pre-European times to help fill out the archaeological record. Turning more specifically to the subject of the pane1--archaeo1ogica1 textiles per se--we have three papers which give considerable information on the nature of North American finds. The first, by Dr. James Adovasio, deals with material from the Great Basin (essentially the states of Utah, Nevada, southern Oregon and Idaho), some of which dates as early as 8000 B.C. Dr. Amy Harvey's paper deals with textiles from three sites in the Lower Missouri Valley. Although they are limited, we do have textile remains from the Ohio, lower Mississippi,lower Missouri, and Arkansas River Valleys. Dr. Harvey's paper discusses some examples of such finds. The Southwestern United States (that is, the states of Arizona and New Mexico, southeastern Utah and southwestern Colorado) offers the richest archaeological finds because of the dryness and the presence of many protected cave sites. Dr. Elizabeth Morris' paper gives information on pre-100m (Basket-maker) textiles from northern Arizona, dating between 500-600 A.D. Since we have ho panelist charged with defining the prehistoric cottonweaving industry of the Southwest which followed the period she discusses, and because the industry is so significant artistically and historically, I propose to describe it very briefly at this time. lEd. note: All the pieces referred to below are illustrated in the author's monograph: "The Cultivation and Weaving of Cotton in the Prehistoric Southwestern United States," Transactions, vol. 47, part 3. American PhilosoPhical Society, Philadelphia, 1957.] Our best evidence of cotton weaving dates between 1100 and 1450 A.D., although there are some finds much earlier (700 A.D.) than these. Whereas one finds thousands of pieces of cloth in Peruvian sites, only about one thousand examples from Southwestern sites were available to me for study prior to 1957. There may be, in private collections, 500 or so more specimens, and cotton textiles are present in sites excavated in the years since my study was made. Nothing that I have seen since, however, has significantly modified the original findings. In spite of the limited material, there is a fascinating variety of techniques and designs. There appear to have been regional and temporal stylistic differences. The finds include tools on the basis of which technical processes can be reconstructed. An example is a spinner's kit from central Arizona, a yucca leaf basket containing ginned cotton; and a spindle of the type used by Hopi men today. The whorl is almost at the center of the shaft, and thread had been spun off the shorter end, as is done by modern Hopi. Weaver's tools found on a rock ledge in southern Utah, and probably dating to about 1100, include a long batten, a smaller batten (probsb1y for

33

a belt loom) and a couple of sticks which might have served as heddle rods or as finishing needles. The latter are long, thin sticks to which the weft may be fastened in order to draw it more easily through the last few picks of the web where there is no longer space for heddle and shed rod. Other tools which have been found include finishing needles and ginning tools, or cotton beaters. The prehistoric beater consists of six willow sticks about 24 inches in length, bound together at the butt ends to make a sort of fan. This resembles precisely the contemporary Hopi cotton beater shown beside it. Cotton was ginned by beating it lightly with the sticks. The fibers fluff up, and the seeds fall to the ground. Evidence for both a wide, upright 100m and a narrower belt 100m comes from many sites in the central and northern parts of the Southwest. Belt 100m rollers and 100m anchor loops have been found. The latter were set in t~e floor of a room where weaving was done, and served as anchors to which the lower beam of the 100m was fastened. The upper beam was secured to the ceiling. Such loops, or holes which formerly contained them, are found in rows of four or five, and furnish information on the width of upright looms--generally around 48 inches. In sites where no actual cloth has survived, 100m holes establish the fact that weaving was once done. Most of the examples studied were small, incomplete scraps. The range of colors is not great, and dye sources have not been satisfactorily analyzed. One finds a pale brick red, pale blue, yellow, brown'~nd black. There is no evidence of indigo. Some of the browns apper to be natural cotton. Occasionally one does find complete pieces, such as a braided shirt from Canyon de Chelly in northeastern Arizona and an equally elaborate twine-plaited shirt from central Arizona. These, of course, are finger techniques. It is apparent that the finger techniques which were in use prior to the introduction of cotton did not die out. Cotton was simply substituted for the coarser fibers in many cases. Looped shoe-socks, for example, would seem to represent a carry-over and elaboration of the human hair and yucca fiber looped leggings of pre-100m Basketmaker times. The cotton has been plied into heavy cord with bear hair and mountain goat hair worked between the plies so that you have, in effect, a wool yarn. Such articles are found in the northern part of the Southwest, where winters can be severe. Small tapestry-weave bands are found in pre-loom Basketmaker sites and continued to be made from cotton yarns after 700 A.D., but not on a 100m, in all probability. Examples are the waistband of a girl's fringed apron and a small band used to fasten a baby to its cradle. The latter piece has designs strongly reminiscent of Basketmaker work, which would take it back before 700, serving as evidence for the presence of cotton in northeastern Arizona earlier than we are able to substantiate so far. The piece is , however, not well documented, and so loses its value as key evidence.

34

Some complete, or nearly complete, 100m-woven cotton articles have been found such as the plain weave cotton kilt with tapestry insets from Hidden House in central Arizona, and a lovely pale blue, brown, and white tapestry weave quiver from the same site. A plain weave sash from southern Utah measures 9" by 96" in length. Plaid cloths may have been shoulder blankets for men or boys as they are traditionally among the Hopi. In central Arizona worn out plain weave cotton cloth garments were reutilized by tearing them into strips, rolling these and using them for wefts. A well-known brown tie-dye blanket from southern Utah measures almost 53" square. Although there is not much tie-dye in the Southwest, one or two pieces are patterned exactly like Peruvian finds. Painted cloth brings to mind archeological textiles from Mexico, where this method of decorating material is also found. Although there are several examples in northern and central Arizona, the designs used are always strongly angular--woven textile patterns transferred to a new technique. No advantage is taken of the fact that painted lines need not follow the right angle disposition of warps and wefts. Off-set quartering of the design field, a method of pattern distribution found also on some Southwestern pottery, is seen in a painted blanket from Painted Cave. Very little has been done with comparisons between pottery and textile design. It might be possible through such a study to enrich our knowledge of weaving in areas where perishable cottons have not survived. A black-on-white painted blanket from Hidden House in central Arizona was found in the same burial as the tapestry-weave quiver and the kilt with tapestry insets mentioned above. One feels that the grave's occupant must have been an important man to have such elaborate possessions. The design on the blanket tells us something of the role of textiles in trade, since it copies pottery decoration characteristic of the Kayenta area many miles away. The northern material, from the Four Corners area, is interesting to me because it includes such a high percentage of twill weave, principally in the form of cloth patterned by simple stripes in brown or black, red and white. This type of cloth evolved directly into contemporary striped Pueblo textiles, and also was translated into the early striped men's and women's shoulder blankets of the Navaho. Twilling is rare in Peru, and within the Southwest is oriented at the northern extremities of the weaving area. (It is common in Mexico, however, according to Mary Elizabeth King--comment from the floor.) Twills were sometimes woven with interlocking wefts. The heddles were rigged for twill, but wefts were manipulated as in tapestry weaving, yarns of different colors being interlocked where they met. The lines of the tapestry pattern follow the diagonal ribs formed automatically by the twill weave. Some of the designs created in this fashion are extremely complex and must have required extensive finger manipulation in spite of the presence of heddles controlling warp sets., One is impressed with the

35

fact that prehistoric loo~ stand in the way are angular, which is this single stricture

weavers seldom let the mechanical character of the of creating the pattern they had in mind. Patterns a function of the technique of course, but with weavers exercised great imagination.

Black and white painted blanket from Hidden House, central Arizona, dating to about 1250 A.D. Arizona State Museum #20511 [This photograph appears as Fig. 87 on page 571 of the author's monograph cited earlier and is reprinted by permission of the author.]

36

GENERAL DISCUSSION QUESTION: Have you been able to study at all the width of your fabrics? If I understand correctly, there haven't been very many selvedges which have been present. KENT: We do have selvedges on many of these pieces. is 53" wide with a selvedge on each edge. Q:

The biggest blanket

And you believe really that it was a finger technique?

K: No, by that time (1100 A.D.) the 100m was in use. After 700 A.D. a vertical upright 100m, a belt 100m, and a horizontal staked out loom were in operation. There is evidence for the latter in southern Arizona. Q:

How do you distinguish the belt 100m?

Is there any indication?

K: I would say that some of the narrower pieces would have been woven on the belt 100m. The finding of belt 100m rollers also indicates they had such a thing. Q: And the ones which you showed which were all-over twill with interlocking wefts. Do you have any idea of the widths on those? What would be the maximum widths? K: Yes, the big blanket from Grand Gulch, Utah that had been cut into two pieces would be at least 40" wide. It would have to have been done on a 100m bigger than a belt 100m. In all probability an upright wide 100m was employed. Q: I was very intrigued by the tie and dye. You said that it would date somewhere between 1100 and 1300 A.D. and you mentioned its being rather similar to Peruvian tie and dye. Can anyone tell me what is the earliest date of Peruvian tie and dye? William CONKLIN: We don't have an exact date for it, but I would think you would be referring to tie dyed textiles that characteristically we'd call Middle Horizon textiles. They probably date from 800 to 1100 A.D •. Very same time period. Mary Elizabeth KING:

Some have an earlier time period even than that.

Q: You mentioned that 2 x 2 fragment from Tonto that was unique, but if you said what the technique was, I missed it. KENT: I think it was done on a plain weave set up, but in places the weft crosses over two, under two, and in other places over one, under one. The over one, under one areas pucker out, the warps being drawn in closer in the over two under two picks.

37

ARCHAEOLOGY AND MEDIEVAL TEXTILES by Anne E. Wardwell, Assistant Curator Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland Archaeology in the field of medieval textiles is a slightly different matter from archaeology in other fields where objects are literally dug out of the ground. For in the case of medieval textiles, the archaeological sites are primarily tombs, reliquaries and extant church buildings all of which are still above ground. This realm of archaeology has contributed -- together with whatever can be gleaned from extant documents -- most of the information and knowledge we have about the textiles from this very important period of production. This morning, I would like to speak briefly first about the interesting and valuable information about individual textiles which is sometimes provided by archaeology, secondly about certain historical groups of textiles which we knpw about primarily because of archaeological research, and thirdly about whole collections of textiles in churches which have been discovered archaeologically. One of the most interesting textiles which falls into the first category -- that is, individual textile finds -- is the veil of Saint Anne in the Church of St. 'Anne in Apt, France. l Until the early part of the 20th century, the veil remained in almost total obscurity in a narrow necked jar. Although no one knows just when the veil was confined to its receptacle, we may assume that it was a long time ago, and, from the nature of the jar, that the veil was intended to be kept as a relic in a reliquary and not exhibited openly. The earliest reference to this Egypto-Arabic textile occurs in an 18th century manuscript which illustrated in a summary drawing the two upper medallions of the central band and which included, as well, a description of the design and materials. Although the manuscript was scarcely noticed in the 18th century, it was a source of great interest in the 19th century to Quatremere who deciphered the inscription, and to Gay who published it in his book, Le P~erinage de Sainte-Anne d'Apt, in 1851. Suprisingly, the history of the veil's origins and its transportation to France are not as obscure as one might expect for an object so hidden away until only recently as was this textile. For it so happens that the band of inscription names the city of Damietta as the center of manufacture, refers to the Fatimid Kalif Musta'il along with his minister Afdal Shahanshab, and then provides a date. Although a small part of the date is missing, i t must read either 1096 or 1097. This textile, then, was made in the royal factory at Damietta only two-or three years before Jerusalem fell in the First Crusade. Interestingly enough, accounts of this crusade report that its participants included two noblemen from Apt as well, as the Bishop of Apt. Undoubtedly, the textile was acquired by one of them during the First Crusade either as a gift or as booty and was brought back to Apt where it came to be known as the veil of Saint Anne. Not only does archaeology sometimes shed light on an isolated textile, but it also provides practically all that survives of certain en-

38

tire historical groups of textiles. One such group is the HispanoIslamic silks consisting of 20 odd pieces which are technically and stylistically similar. The silks of this group whose provenances are known have come from tombs and reliquaries of the 12th and occasionally the 13th centuries. For instance, one fragment which is in Cleveland came from a reliquary in Siquenza Cathedral, a reliquary which belonged to St. Librada whose remains had been brought from Almeria to Siquenza in 1147 by Alfonso VII.2 Two fragments of the so-called "Salamanca Eagles" silk were found attached to two documents in the archives of Salamanca Cathedral: one was a document of Fernando II and dated 1183, while the other was a document of Alfonso Nono and dated 1199. The so-called cushion of Alfonso VII who died in 1157 was found in his tomb when it was opened in about 1948. 3 The 12th century date of the Hispano-Islamic silks is established by a fragmentary chasuble which comes from the reliqua~y of San Juan de Ortega in the church of Quintanaortuna near Burgos. This silk happens to have an inscription which reads, "Victory from God to Amir al-Muslimin 'Ali." Ali, the Almoravid ruler of North Africa and Spain, reigned from 1106 to 1142. Evidently the Hispano-Islamic silks were highly prized in their day and were often taken as booty in the wars between the Christians and the Moors. James I, king of Aragon, tells of taking silks after the fall of Montcado in the early 13th century; and this same king, when Valencia fell into his hands in 1238, divided the lands among the bishops and barons who were with him, one of whom was Bernardo Calvo, Bishop of Vich. It so happens that, at the end of the 19th century when Bernardo Calvo's tomb was opened, several Hispano-Islamic silks were found, one of which is the Lion Strangler silk now in Cleveland. 5 In all probability, these silks were part of the booty he acquired after the fall of Valencia. Another group of textiles for which the only extant examples are those that survived because they were preserved in church treasures, reliquaries or tombs is that from the Levant dating from the 11th and 12th centuries. In many cases, specific textiles of this group have long been associated with certain saints, clerics, or kings without supporting archaeological evidence. But fortunately, some of the Levantine textiles have been found recently in tombs and therefore establish a sound core of datable textiles against which the validity of tradition surrounding other textiles of this group can be tested. One of the most important finds of this kind was the textiles found in the tomb of Pope Clement II at Bamberg Cathedral. 6 Clement II had been Bishop of Bamberg before becoming pope, and therefore, after his sudden and untimely death in 1048, his remains were placed in a tomb in the Peters Choir of the cathedral. When the tomb was opened in 1942, in order to remove its contents to a safer location, the pope was found to have been buried not in papal attire, but in the vestments of a bishop: he wore a cope, a chasuble, a belt, a stoIa, a pallium, gloves and stockings. These burial robes of Clement II are the most complete set of vestments dating before the middle of the 11th century to have been preserved. And moreover, they are a superb document of the different weaves and uses of

39

patterns among textiles produced in the Levant at the turn of the millenium. As I mentioned before, archaeologically datable textiles such as those found in the tomb of Clement II provide important comparative material for textiles associated through tradition with historical personages. An interesting case in point is that of the so-called fragment from the skirt of St. Elizabeth in Andechs which has a design of paired panthers and paired griffons in roundels. 7 According to the oldest records of Andechs, the twelve rectangular fragments that survive were originally from a tunic which Queen Gertrude of Hungary wore at her coronation in 1205. The tunic was later made into a skirt for Elizabeth, the daughter of Queen Gertrude and King Andreas II of Hungary. At some unrecorded point in time, perhaps after the tragic death of Queen Gertrude, Elizabeth gave the garment to the Church of Andechs where it was mare into a cope. With time, however, the cope wore out and was then cut up into rectangular pieces to serve as wrappings for relics. Apparently, the pieces were found in this condition as early as 1388. In the inventory of 1457 describing the reliquary of St. Elizabeth (she had been canonized for her kindness to the poor and sick) there is recorded "half of her frock which men in earlier times found to have healing powers." That the fragments surviving from her reliquary are indeed from the original garment made for Queen Gertrude and given by Elizabeth to Andechs is supported by the fact that one of the rectangular pieces has a seam proving that the textile was originally a sewn garment. Moreover, the 11th century style of the design is similar to the stockings of Pope Clement II and also to fragments from the tomb of Edward the Confessor of England who died in 1066. A third group of medieval textiles known largely from archaeological finds comprise the 13th and 14th century silks woven in the Mongolian controlled regions of Hither Asia. One of these is the burial garment of Duke Rudolph IV of Austria wHich was discovered only in the early 1930's when the grave was opened. The textile, ornamented with vertical bands of Arabic inscriptions, and with bands of running animals of cartouches and birds, is similar to striped silks of the early 14th century which were formerly in the Marienkirche, Danzig, and to vestments in Brunswick and Regensburg. The inscription is in honor of the Persian sultan Abu Sa'id Ilkhan who reigned from 1316 to 1335. Unfortunately, nothing is recorded of Rudolph's relations with the Orient; but we do know that the extensive travels of his chief game warden, Friedrich von Kreusbach, included much of Europe, north Africa, and three journies to Jerusalem. Very likely, he acquired this textile abroad and brought it back to Austria as a gift to the duke. One of the most unexpected finds of this century was the collection of HitherAsian ~ilks found in the tomb of Cangrande della Scala in Verona in 1921. The find was surprising because, in the first place, those who were excavating the tomb were not even interested in Cangrande's

40

remains, but rather were hoping to find therein relics of Dante who had been patronized by Cangrande. (You may recall that the year 1921 marked the 600th anniversary of Dante's death.) Although the venture was a total failure so far as finding relics of Dante was concerned, it brought to light the splendid and unusual curial roces of Cangrande della Scala who had died in 1329. The various silk and gold textiles which formed his garments are oriental in style and often show strong Islamic influence as is typical for this group of textiles generally. Not only is this the most varied and extensive single collection of these textiles to have turned up in Europe, but it is also a document of the variety of oriental textiles which were being imported into Italy in the early 14th century. Turning now from historical groups of textiles whose existence today is largely due to archaeological finds, there is a third aspect of medieval archaeology which is important to consider, namely the discovery of entire collections of textiles. If one were asked which single collection of textiles in European teasuries contained the most representative collection of medieval weaving, one would think first of Sens Cathedral. 10 Sens was one of the very early episcopal sees of Europe. Although the year in which it was founded is not known, we do know that by 475 Sens had its 13th bishop which means that the see was probably founded in the second half of the 3rd century orat the beginning of the 4th century. During the course of centuries, many important donations in the form of treasure and relics were given to the cathedral and the abbey churches under its jurisdiction. For instance, in the 9the century Charlemagne gave a large treasure to the cathedral, and the Archbishop Ansegise received as a papal gift the head of St. Gregory the Great as well as the arm of Pope Leo. Moreover, as was very customary in the middle ages, relics often made their way from one church to another either for reasons of safety, or as booty or as gifts. Throughout the centuries, Sens Cathedral and its abbey churches were recipients of such relics. The importance of relics in terms of the preservation of ancient textiles can hardly be overstated: not only were saints, clergy and nobility buried in costly textiles, generally silks, but small relics in reliquaries were kept wrapped in cloths which were cut from worn-out vestments. By the end of the 12th century, according to cathedral records, there were 133 different relics at Sens, which means that there must have been a large collection of early medieval and Romanesque textiles. Unfortunately, many of the relic wrappings were discarded in the 17th and 18th centuries when it became fashionable to display relics in glass reliquaries. During the French Revolution, although precious gold reliquary caskets were lost, much of their contents were fortunately saved. The textile collection of Sens Cathedral as we know it today surfaced only in the middle of the last century when a chest with a label identifying it as the "casket of anonymous relics" was found to have been preserved at the Abbey church of St. Pierre. The chest was returned to the cathedral, and the textiles therein placed in the cathedral treasury. Although the identifications

41

of most of the relics in the chest were uncertain, and although most of the textiles had long since parted company from the relics to which they had originally belonged, this remarkable collection of early Christian Byzantine and later medieval textiles remains, nevertheless, one of the most important and unusual among European treasuries. Another very important collection discovered only within the last century is that of the Marienkirche,ll a church which was founded in 1343 in the Hanseatic city of Danzig. Within a period of 150 years, the church managed to acquire an enormous number of vestments and paraments some of which were made of Italian, Mamluke, and Chinese weaves, and others of which were the work of Northern German embroiderers. The Marienkirche had 123 clergy and 50 altars each of which had its own set of vestments and paraments. A total of 229 copes, 30 dalmatics, 50 humerals, and 33 altarfrontals were recorded in the inventory of 1552 made by the canon Martin Cromer. This and the detailed inventory made of three of the altars in the Marienkirche in 1569 are the last records of the church's collection of paraments and vestments. For, in the middle of the 16th century, Danzig became a Protestant city and the Marienkirche a Protestant church. What happened to that remarkable collection when the Protestants took over was only revealed in the last century when, on three different occasions, the church custodian discovered vestments hidden away in wall cupboards and chests in the tower and sacristy. Again, in 1937, more paraments which had been mentioned in the 16th century inventory but which had not yet been found were discovered by Professor Mannowsky where they were concealed in the dark recesses of other wall cupboards. Although the fate suffered by these textiles since their discovery is indeed heartbreaking, they formed until the Second World War the single largest existing collection of Gothic vestments. One final collection of textiles only recently recognized, but different in nature from those of the Marienkirche, are the textiles found at Sta. Maria de Las Huelgas de Burgos in Spain. 12 This Cistercian convent, founded in 1187 by Alfonso VII and his wife Eleanor of England, served as a mausoleum until the 16th century for the royal family of Castile. The tombs unfortunately were plundered more than once. But by far the worst of these ravages occurred during the Napoleonic Wars when the French troops were stationed at the convent. Entertaining themselves by plundering the tombs for gold, the soldiers ripped shrouds and garments out of the caskets and strewed them about the convent. When the troops finally left and the nuns were able to return, they did their best to restore the textiles to their original tombs. But many pieces could not be identified and were therefore placed in the wrong tombs. It was not until 1944 that the tombs were once again opened, this time for scientific study of the textiles. At that time, it was discovered that one tomb, that of Fernando de la Cerda who had died in 1275, had not been plundered. His coffin was found covered with a rich gold and silk fabric and lined with a Moorish

42

fabric. Four silk pillows were under his head, and he was dressed in three garments of the same fabric. On Fernando's head was a cap embroidered with precious stones. The best preserved of the women's tombs was that of Leanor, the wife of Jaime I of Aragon, who had died in 1244. In spite of the fearful plunder inflicted by Napoleon's troops and the confusion of textiles and tombs which resulted, the collection of some 81 pieces of weaves, embroideries and knitting provides extensive evidence of the textile industry in 13th century Spain, together with important stylistic connections between this period and those preceding and following it. In conclusion, one can begin to realize the tremendous importance of archaeQlogy in the field of medieval textiles when one considers where we would be today had these discoveries not been made. How limited would our knowledge be of the Italian 14th and 15th century silks had the vestments of the Marienkirche never been discovered hidden away in the walls! How could the history of the 12th and 13th century Spanish textile industry possibly be put together without the fragments of. Hispano-Islamic silks preserved in assorted reliquaries and tombs, and without the textiles found in the tombs of Sta. Maria de Las Huelgas? Our indebtedness to archaeological research for surviving textiles as well as facts about them pertains as well to the textiles from the Levant and to the Mongolian silks from Hither Asia, to say nothing of other textiles which time does not permit us to consider. Yet in spite of the archaeological discoveries that have so expanded our knowledge of medieval textiles, enormous art historical problems still remain. One can only hope that archaeological finds will continue to be made in the future enabling some of these problems to be resolved.

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NOTES 1.

G. Marcais & G. Wiet, "Le 'voile de Sainte Anne' d'Apt," Fondation Piot, Monuments et M~moires, 34 (1934), pp. 177-194.

2.

D.G. Shepherd, "Two Hispano-Islamic Silks in Diasper Weave," Bulletin of the Cleveland Museum of Art (January 1955), pp. 6-10.

3.

M. Gomez-Moreno, "El arte arabe espanol hasta los almohades arte mozarabe, " Ars Hispaniae, III (1951), Fig. 408b.

4.

D.G. Shepherd, "A Dated Hispano-Islamic Silk," Ars Orientalis, II (1957), pp. 373-382.

5.

D.G. Shepherd, "A Twelfth Century Hispano-Islamic Silk," Bulletin of the Cleveland Museum of Art (March 1951), pp. 59-62.

6.

S. Muller-Christensen, Das Grab des Papstes Clemens II im Dom zu Bamberg. Mllnchen, 1960.

7.

Bayerischen Nationalmuseum MUnchen, Sakrale Gewander des Mittelalters (Ausstellung 8 Juli bis 25 September 1955), Mtinchen, 1955, Kat. 30.

8.

H.

Zeutsch fur Pfle Kunst, V 9.

G. Sangiorgi, "Le stoffe e le vesti tombali di Cangrande l'della Scala," Contributi allo studio de11'arte tessile, Milano, n.d., pp. 35-57.

10.

E. Chartraire, "Les tissus anciens du tresor de la Cath~drale de Sens," Revue de l'art chretien, LXI (1911), pp. 261-280, 371-386, 452-468.

11.

W. Mannowsky, Der Danziger Paramentenschatz, kirchliche Gewander und Stickereien aus der Marienkirche. Berlin, 1931-33. W. Mannowsky, "New Discovery of Textiles," Embroidery, VI, no. 1 (December 1937), pp. 4-6.

12.

M. Gomez-Moreno, E1 Panteon Real de ' las Huelgas de Burgos. Madrid, 1946. D.G. Shepherd, "The Textiles from Las Hue1gas de Burgos," The Bulletin of the Needle and Bobbin Club, 35 (1951), pp. 3-26.

44

COPTIC TEXTILES by Deborah Thompson, Advisor in Textiles Dumbarton Oaks, Washington Abstract of talk given for the Panel: Archaeological Textiles."

"General Introduction to

The combination of ruthless wholesale excavation of Coptic cemeteries in the late nineteenth century and neglect of archaeological method and publication in most subsequent excavations of Coptic textiles constitutes what is probably the sorriest chapter in the history of archaeology. Properly conducted future excavations may cast some light, in the form of comparative material, on the hundreds of thousands of extant Coptic textiles, but they are unlikely to replace th~ missing information from major centers such as Antinoopolis and Akhmim, which were virtually destroyed by archaeological pillaging. The writer feels, however, that by the rigorous application of the principles of art historical study, together with close attention to the technical peculiarities of the different groups of Coptic textiles, it is possible to arrive at a chronology of Coptic textiles. Examples of this kind of detailed examination of the material can be consulted in the forthcoming Catalogue of Late Antigue and Mediaeval Te~tiles at Dumbarton Oaks. In the interval, two cautionary principles should be kept in mind by the student of the field. One concerns already existing chronologies that are found, for example, in the catalogues by A. F. Kendrick (for the Victoria and Albert Museum), O. Wulff and W. F. Volbach (for the Berlin Museums), or Pierre du Bourguet (for the Louvre). As in every other discipline in which dating is the intention of the scholar's work, these chronologies should be taken as tentative and open to amendment by those who use them. Even one's own work should be subjected to periodic reconsideration and revision where necessary. Secondly, the major contribution of Father du Bourguet and John Beckwith in developing a chronology of Coptic textiles in recent years has been towards the recognition that large numbers of well known groups of textiles are of Islamic date, 6th century and later. The result of this important contribution has sometimes been to overlook textiles that are genuinely early and may date from the fourth to fifth century. One final word again concerns the vast size of the field. Those who work with Coptic textiles should keep careful records of true stylistic and technical parallels, which should be published in reference to the examples which they are studying. Although this may result in what appear to be cumbersome lists, if the comparative textiles are genuine parallels, over the years, a kind of useful ordering will be produced of the thousands of textiles and the various groups that comprise them, for the use of curators and scholars alike. Concordances by museum collection will make such comparative material relatively easy for other scholars to use.

45

PRESERVATION OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES

Panel Chairman:

Mark D. Burnham Conservator The Royal Ontario Museum Toronto

47

CLEANING OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES by Mark D. Burnham Royal Ontario Museum Toronto I would like to discuss first of all a cleaning method that we have developed for doing very fragile fragments. It also can be used on larger pieces, not huge ones, but large ones. With this method, you do not need a sink. All you need is a good distilled water supply and a sheet of glass (you can use plexiglass if you like) and filter paper (chromatography paper). The process is very simple. Just lay the fragment out on the piece of glass. It is better to use one single piece of glass rather than several placed side by side to avoid getting lines forming in the fragment which make an awful mess. First soak the fragment letting it get really wet (Fig. 1). Next, take the filter paper. Usually, depending on the thickness of the fragment we use two or three pieces at a time and remove the excess water by just laying them very carefully at one end of the fragment, lowering the edge and running the hand over it (Fig. 2). A little pressure can be applied but it is usually not necessary. The paper sucks the water right out and brings the dirt with it. After this it should be lifted up very carefully (Fig. 3). Quite often on the inside edge, the fragment will stick to the paper and if it is very fragile, the way to get it off the paper is not just to take a needle and pull it off as you might think. Instead, put more filter paper on top, pick up more moisture and this will release the fragment. We found this method works very well for almost anything, I did a piece of Chinese silk which I think was supposed to be 13th century. It was just a pair of fragments, and they were powdering allover the place and dusting onto everything and it looked as though the only hope would be to consolidate them with something. But we found by using this method that they regained flexibility and now can even be picked up carefully. Although you would not want to do that, it could be done. Question: Do you use just water and nothing else? Mark Burnham: Just distilled water. If you need to, you can add, a little wetting agent if the fragment is a bit greasy. Once I put a bit of Orvis in, and I regretted it, because it is so hard to get out again. Somethimes you can use this as a preliminary method to start something and then as the piece regains its strength, you can do something more with it; use standard washing or a slightly more vigorous treatment. Q: You use only clear 'water--no detergent or anything else? MB: No, no detergent; it is too hard to get it out again by this method because you are not really submerging the piece so that things go into solution. It takes longer. It can take a week to do a piece, you know, going at it off and on. You can run six or seven pieces at a time if you have the space, just working on a table top. Sometimes some water gets on the floor, so it is better to use a workshop. Q: Do you think that that method is better than having the piece sandwiched between two pieces of a net or screening?

48

MB:

I started this on pieces that were so fragile and so frayed out that a net was almost impossible to use because it was wo crumpled.

Q: MB:

If you are working on a piece for a week, do you let it dry? I let it dry overnight.

Q:

How do you decide whether to use this method or do something else to a piece? MB: I only do this if the fragment is very, very fragile and I am scared to submerge it. I like to do this if I really feel that the piece needs a solid support underneath it when I am cleaning it.

Q: Do you vacuum first or do you do anything first? MB: No, no vacuuming. Somethimes if the sample is dusty, which they very rarely are, I will brush it off very lightly with a water color brush, a very soft one.

Q:

Were the little plexiglass pieces at the end intended to weight down the edges? MB: They hold down all the loose threads on the edges so as the piece dries off the glass, the threads do not pop up. On heavier things, some quite heavy Coptic fragments, for instance, use covered lead weights. (Fig. 4).

Q: Is your purpose in washing to enhance preservation or to enhance visibility? What is the purpose? MB: Preservation is the principal aim because the dirt attracts microorganisms and a piece can become terribly damaged If you'leave the dirt. We established the policy at the Royal Ontario Museum of trying to wash as much as we could and worrying about mounting later. My wife and I ended up specializing; I did the washing and she did the mounting. Q: Would you ever use the method you described on both what would happen if the moisture caused the dirt to go and then come back? MB: It does sometimes. Sometimes if you let the piece up very carefully, clean the glass off and even turn it back.

sides? For instance, down to the bottom dry you can lift it over and go at the

Q: With fabrics such as you have shown, what would you do if you could not mount them once you had done this much to them? MB: We mount using a Creplin method which my wife is going to describe. Q: And how are these particular pieces kept before you work on them? And what prompts your actio~which I gather is a temporary action? MB: It is not really a temporary action. Q: Just one step in a continuous process? MB: Yes, eventually the piece will be mounted. Q:

Do you have any trouble with the object adhering to the glass after it dries? Any difficulty removing it?

49

MB: Usually it does not just slide right off. You usually have to take a dissecting needle or something and just work very carefully around it. However, it usually sticks only on the very outside edge and sometimes on the inside of a hole, and the rest comes off quite easily. I use a spatula quite often to lift things.

Q: Does the washing have any particular effect on silk? MB: The Chinese damask fragment that I washed was all silk, and it regained its flexibility. I washed another piece of silk which I think is probably Middle Eastern and was very dessicated and dry and hard. When I used this method on it, it did not change much. A lot of dirt carne out of it and it brightened the colors up, but it still was in pretty bad shape. Q: Was it brittle? Was the Chinese piece brittle when you washed it? MB: Very! It dusted allover the place. You could not pick it up without losing bits. Q:

Have you ever tried washing a piece with this technique and found the piece to be so brittle that when you put water on it, the weight of the tissues, the weight of the filter paper, was enough to crack it? Or does it regain enough flexibility? MB: It regains its flexibility. You can rub on top of the filter paper a little bit but you do not use any pressure. The reason you lay your paper down in the precise way I described is that it sort of pulls the moisture to it as it is going down. You are not just adding the weight of the paper, but are removing the weight of the moisture.

Q:

It seems to me that there would be instances when archaeological textiles in their dry condition would contain information that could be lost in the washing process: for instance, a pattern of holes that might have been left from a previous set of threads that had totally disintegrated or evidences of sewing to another textile along the edge. You know that the formation, if you will, is lost in the washing process. MB: I agree with you.

Q: What is your thought on that subject? MB: As a conservator, when the decision on treatment was left up to me, I have tried to preserve the sewing and, of course, not pull threads out. I found using this method, actually, that sewing holes and things like that usually stay. Q:

I would like to go back to the si1ks,'because when a silk has been washed, it loses certain characteristics that it has acquired through age. Therefore, when dealing with the authenticity of a group, washing may make the problem more complicated. MB: Yes, it gets pretty difficult sometimes. I agree with you. I do not know what the answer to the problem is because, as a conservator, I am often not in a position to have anything to say about that situation. Q: Yes, I need guidance on this type of thing basically. I just wanted to confirm that it could and would happen.

50 MB: I would just like to add in this connection that we have had very small samples of Han Dynasty silks which we have washed exactiy according to this process and we have not lost anything. As a matter of fact, silk is supposed to have a very subtle texture and can become very brittle through time, sometimes because of adhesive which was applied for pasting down. And truly if washing is done with great precaution, you find as a matter of fact it revives all its original qualities, I think. This has very definitely been our feeling on very fragile and aged material.

Q:

I would like to say that it seems to me that a piece should be thoroughly catalogued before it ever goes to a conservator and then it should be almost recatalogued again because, for instance, all the colors come up. It is going to change at least that part of your catalogue sheet. Any museum object, before it is ever treated, should be thoroughly photographed and catalogued-just as a patient in a hospital is x-rayed before they start messing around. MB: That is what we have tried to do if we possibly can. We take black and white, color, and even microscopic photographs sometimes.

Q: And if the antique aspects of the fabric are so important, it seems to Ee that should be weighed against the damage that the dirt is doing and decide which is the more important value of that particular piece. Q: MB:

Do you maintain photographic records? Yes, we do.

Q:

Under whose direction, or by whose authority, is washing done? Let me ask this in two ways. Tdeally speaking how should it be done and how has it been done in your experience? MB: This has been fairly disorganized generally, as you well know.

Q: By what authority do you establish your guideline and what do you think would be the best approach in dealing with fabrics as fragile as the Tiraz, for instance? ME: I think this should be a decision made between the historian and the conservator and I think even if you are both, that other people should be consulted about it. If an impasse is reached, I think it would be best to leave the piece alone. MB: I would now like to say a couple of words about consolidation. It is a bit of a pet peeve of mine that at the moment soluble nylon, Caliton CA, is under rather a lot of attack. A lot of places are claiming that it Rhrinks very seriously, (which it can do on solid objects). I have used it maybe in the last five years about five times on textiles in very weak solutions, both 1 and 2% solutions; (normally on a painted surface you would use it 5-10%) and I have had a lot of luck and very few complaints with it. It does tend to darken but I do not think the shrinkage factor with textiles is as bad as some people like to think it is. And I really feel that it has been around for so long and has given so many good results without too many backfires that it is probably a good idea to keep it in mind if you want a consolidant. Finally, just a short note on removal from the field. I have had occasion to talk to people who are going to be in that position and we have discussed the problems. What we have established in Toronto, at least for North American archaeolog~ is: as policy, if you find a textile or piece of basketry

51

or something, especially if it is waterlogged, you do not really try to do anything with it in the field. If it is waterlogged, you keep it wet. If it is dry, you keep it dry. And you pack it up very carefully and do it under the ideal circumstances. A lot of damage has been done to certain things by trying to clean them off too much in the field.

Figure 1

Figure 2

Figure 3

Figure 4

52

MOUNTING OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES by Eva Burnham-Staehli Royal Ontario Museum Toronto I am going to talk about the mounting of archaeological tex~iles. Let us first consider a certain Tiraz fragment which has a wool warp and weft. This fragment was very hard and encrusted and brittle before washing and was only slightly better after washing. It was mounted on linen by sewing with very fine real silk using a couching stitch. After mounting on the linen, the fragment was taped onto the back section of a solid mount using a linen tape with a water soluble glue, the type which is used for mounting large prints and drawings. And then the front section of the mat was pasted down around the outside edge using metal cellulose paste. And the mounted fragment was placed in a press until dried with three sheets of chromatography paper, filter paper, on the front and on the back. A Coptic fragment which was also very fragile we decided to mount using a variation on the standard Creplin method. This amounted to stretching the backing material over a piece of acid free mat board, laying the fragment out on this and then tacking it down to the backing with a few small stitches. The Creplin was placed on top and the fragment was mounted by going around the outside edge, the outside edge to the inner circle and to the inner square with a standard surgical needle, taking very small stitches. A Peruvian fragment was bought by the Royal Ontario Museum in 1972 mainly as a study piece. Although we are a large museum we have a very weak pre-Columbian textiles collection, so any piece that can be made to show up is therefore doubly important. When we mounted this fragment, even though it was quite strong, it had weak areas. We mounted it on linen using silk thread. Because the back had to be accessible for examination, we left a window in the backing behind one of the stronger areas. These windows can also be left behind weak areas but then a flap of backing should be placed over the window.

Q: Didn't I read somewhere that linen has fallen out of favor as a backing material? Mark Burnham: It see,ns to have in the United States, but we have found it better than cotton in Canada. It is also more accessible. We can still buy it quite easily and we have a lot of trouble buying cotton.

Q: MB:

Q: MB:

Q: MB:

Do you pre-shrink the linen? Oh, yes. What are the objections, besides the shrinking aspect? The linen attracts moisture more than any other fabric. Doesn't it also develop some acid spots and break down in areas? So far we have had no problems of that sort.

Comment: I think the chief objection to linen is the fact that it is not a very stable fiber and it will react much more to changes in humidity and

53

particularly if you are dealing with a museum which does not have humidity control. I think that linen can be quite dangerous whereas cotton is much more stable. Comment: We have not rejected linen at all in Boston, and I would not reject it out of hand anyway. Certain textiles we have found that are mostly linen, especially large textiles such as tapestries, are themselves very much subject to changes in humidity. It works well to use a linen backing or strapping because they will move more together. MB: That is what we find with our climate. I think it depends on the climate of the area that you are in too. If you get very high humidity in the summer and next to nothing in the winter, then I do not think you would want to use linen. Comment: I would suggest that the source of the linen fabric you buy should be very well checked, because these days in processing the fiber out of flax or any other stalks and grass, an awful lot of chemicals are used which can mean very high alkalinic processes. Very often I have noticed that pieces which were lined about ten or fifteen years ago are in bad condition while those lined thirty or forty years ago are still in good condition. Therefore, if you decide to use linen, buy a very good one, check the source of it, and how it is processed. MB: We use pH tests on all the acid free cards we use and on the backing material. Comment: If tensile strength is necessary, of course linen is best. For instance, if you want to cover exhibition panels, and I am sure that the panels would be prepared for long term use, then linen is preferable. There is a certain way to stretch linen. You can halfway wet the linen and then stretch it, so that after it dries it shrinks and will be absolutely straight and flat and it will never sag. MB: The other thing to do after you have stretched it is to soak it again. It makes a big difference, evening up the tension inside the material.

54

HANDLING OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL TEXTILES by Pat Reeves Textile Conservator Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Los Angeles So far Mark and Eva have talked about archaeological textiles as though they come by magic from a hole in the ground to one's work table. Unfortunately, they usually have passed through many hands, sometimes with loving care, but often with a lack of experience in handling. At times I feel they must have been handled with real spite and malice. One of the terrible problems I find in handling archaeological textiles is undoing what has been done to them. The favorite thing handlers do, it seems, is to get a nice sticky glue that will harden and hold all the pieces together. In such cases, the first thing the conservator has to do is remove the glue. Another unpleasant, frequent situation I have found is that the person who has put the fragments together (possibly a dealer who wanted to make a sale) and found a lot of empty spaces in his piece must have just fished in his bag and indiscriminately found pieces from other textiles to use. A museum may buy or be given what seems to be a fairly intact piece but by the time the conservator has removed the glue and taken off the backing, we often find that we have pieces from three different fabrics, each with no relationship to the other. In good conscience one cannot mount them together, so much less of the original piece is left than thought. I think the greatest problem I have is in getting off adhesives, and I have run across everything--from animal glue to rubber cement, surgical tape, electrical tape, all kinds of things. I guess the simplest one to deal with is old-fashioned animal glue because in time it will dissolve in water. Among the worst ones are PVA's. When PVA first began to be used, everyone thought "this is the answer to everything." PVA's have proven to be almost insoluble. You can soften them with different chemicals but I do not know of anything that will actually dissolve them. I usually have to resort to forceps and scalpel, and very carefully pick the softened adhesive off. Of course, there comes the time when you have to decide whether to leave a little glue or have the fabric left. I think the decision should be to keep the fabric. When I received a fragile piece which has been glued or sewn to a backing (hopefully sewn, but usually glued)', I know that once released from its backing it will be in many, many pieces. I put it face down on a water-proof work board, covered with nylon net. If it has been sewn, I clip the stitches and remove them with forceps. If it has been glued, I begin steaming the back and very carefully peel it off, using dental tools and forceps to hold the fibers. Then I put net down on top of it and sew the textile very carefully between the two layers of net so that all the loose fibers are held. There, I never handle that piece; I have never picked it up with my hands; it has always been protected, first by the hacking, then by the net. At this point I usually soak the piece in a solution of glycerin and water, which I find very helpful in softening

55

fibers which have stiffened. This is not a permanent effect, but at least it helps during the time the piece is being handled. Secondly, the glycerin acts as an emulsifier which loosens and floats the dirt. Many times, after soaking a piece, I pour off glycerin water which has loosened so much grime it has become the color of coffee. My washing process then becomes simple, because the glycerin has very gently removed dirt and it is rinsed off. All this happens while it is still encased in net. I am very interested in what Mark and Eva said about their way of washing because I have never found a piece that I could not encase in net and actually submerge. Recently, I had an experience with some Coptic material. At least three of the pieces have beEn published. I received them in the condition they were when they were published. One of them is the head of a woman, very Greek in appearance: she looks like Medea just before she cut her children's throats. Mad, you know. One half of her face was sunken. After blocking her properly, aligning the warps and wefts, her face no longer droops and she no longer looks like an insane woman. Another was the head of a man. One side of his neck was much shorter than the other. Obviously, anatomically, he had to be bending his head, but he was not. His head is properly aligned now. The third piece was much larger, a figure surrounded by an arch. In published literature it looks quite Grecian. We took it apart and looked at it and realized someone had put the top part of the arch upside down. This was a pile fabric, and instead of pile coming down the pile was going up. In one corner it had been bent around. There was another piece that had been put in sideways--the warp was going the wrong direction. We called the curator to explain (this piece did not belong to us) and said, "This may be a little embarrassing because this piece has been published. People are used to seeing it looking like this, but really it does not belong that way." He of course said to do it properly. In many cases there are certain arbitrary decisions we make. I know that this fragment is from this piece. I cannot swear positively that it came from that particular section if it is a plain fragment and there is no design to match. You judge by the amount of wear and the general feel of things. You want to fill in a hole but you also want it to be pleasing aesthetically. You really cannot put things upside down and sideways or bend them around corners. So we must go ahead and do the piece as it should be done. But, as I say, this can be embarrassing when people are used to seeing the design; unless you look at the photograph under magnification, you are not aware of the inconsistency. So, I think my worst problems in dealing with archaeological material are- the things that people have done to them in the past. They say that the textile conservator's prayer is "Please, God, give me the first mending job." And I heartily concur. By the way, I have found that glycerin which I formerly used only on woolen materials works extremely well with silk. We were dealing recently with a lot of Islamic pieces (these were not archaeological, but they were quite old), and I began soaking them in glycerin before washing and found that it worked just as well. The amount of dirt that came out was unbe-

56

lievable. Instead of having to wash them twice, often I had only to wash them once after the glycerin.

Q:

What solution do you use?

Pat Reeves: It depends on the brittleness of the piece. I usually use about 4:1 and if it is quite brittle I will use 3:1 and of course I wash it out at the end. I do not leave it in.

Q: What silks should you not subject to water? PR: The only time I do not wash is if the color is not fast, and of course I make extensive tests before doing it. Q: So the only test that you would apply practically is the color fastness? PR: Yes, that is what I mean. And it is also important if you are working on something that has had previous restoration, not only to test every color of the original, but to test every color of the restoration. If you do not, you can run into a lot of trouble. Mark was talking about soluble nylon. I used that recently on a fragment of a tapestry, a European tapestry where one of the colors in the restoration was not fast in water. It was quite a small area, so I painted with a sable brush, painted it front and back with a very thin solution until it was waterproof. Then I proceeded to wash the tapestry with no problems at all. I could have removed the soluble nylon or I could have left it, but we decided to leave it because in ten or fifteen years, twenty years, somebody may wash it again and not test as carefully as we did. So, since the nylon does no harm, I left it on. Mark Burnham: It is also very difficult to get out. Pat Reeves: Yes, but it can be done. MB: With almost all consolidants, once you have got them in, especially if you put them in a very thin solution, they are almost impossible to get out again. You always have to bear that in mind. Last year there was a lot of talk about color meters and measuring color. A friend of mine gave me an article out of an old Popular Science on how to build your own color meter and I know someone who built one and he seemed quite happy with it. So if anyone want this thing, I can probably organize getting a copy made. It is quite simple.

57

CONSERVATION OF TEXTILES

by Nobuko Kajitani, Associate Conservator Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Preservation of collections is the primary function of a museum. Sound planning of preservation fitted to the requirements of the collection in exhibition, storage and study areas should be discussed and understood. Local climatic conditions, economic situations, available personnel, daily handling, physical characteristics of the objects, security and safety are some of the many factors to be considered in preservation. The preservation of fabrics takes place in all areas in the museum where they are 10cated--in store rooms, in transit, in galleries, in study rooms and in the conservation laboratory. Often more emphasis is placed on conservation work, which should be considered the second step of our task in preservation, rather than on daily care and handling, which is the first step in preservation. If this first step is more seriously thought out and practiced, the life of the object will be lengthened and laboratory work lessened. This alone is a great protective measure for any work of art. We can not fight against natural deterioration, but if a fabric is kept flat and physically undisturbed, in an air-controlled area with no light, its life will be lengthened. However, we constantly have to expose fabrics to light and often to physical action. Though not easily visible, all fabrics respond in varying degrees to physical handling, climatic conditions, and exposeure to light. The majority of fabric material is organic. Natural deterioration of fibers began as soon as they were removed from their natural habitat. It is incalculable to what extent fibers have oxidized and been damaged by the processes of preparing them into yarns and fabrics with coloring agents and by use since preparation. The actual condition is not always apparent to the eye. We notice deterioration only after a long period and only when fibers finally disintegrate to the point that we can no longer restore them. Therefore, it is important to handle fabrics very, very carefully even when they appear to be sound. In preservation of fabrics the cause of most damage is the physical action which takes place during handling. Upon contact with our hands, fabrics change shape. This characteristic sh'o u1d be seriously considered, for each time a fabric is touched by our hands, whether it is to move it, to study it or to treat it, the fabric is subjected to possible structural and material damage. In addition, the adhesion of dust, hand grime and other unwanted matter takes place. When this becomes noticeable, fabrics must be treated by laboratory work. The removal of soils subjects fabrics to risk and some soils cannot be removed. To reduce the problem, each person in the museum who is authorized to touch fabrics should be trained to handle them as art objects. One of the "musts" in handling fabrics is frequent

58

hand washing. The hand washing basin should be in a convenient location close to work areas. Above all the situation should be accident proof. It is essential that fabrics be handled on a proper working surface. A padded worktable is essential equipment for handling fabrics. The size of the table should be determined by the size of fabrics, working habits and layout function of the room. The table should be covered first with a cotton padding and then muslin should be stretched tightly over it. The relatively soft and absorbent surface thus created is ideal for handling fabrics. The cotton muslin, being an absorbent material, will itself pick up hand grime. Once settled on cotton, unlike other non-absorbent surfaces such as plastic, glass or polished wood, grime will not be transferred back to other museum textiles. This is the greatest advantage to having the padded table. It is essential that a fabric be supported while being handled. Carriers, such as boxes, trays, cardboards, and tubes to support fabrics for moving and storage are an important aid to lessen unnecessary strain and to avoid soiling. No fabric should be moved even an inch without such a carrier--in storage, in the conservation operation, or at any other time. Presentation of Fabrics There are four types of presentation of fabrics: (1) In exhibition gal1eries--permanent and short term special exhibitions for the general public. (2) In period rooms--in such areas visitors should be restricted to a few in a group accompanied by a museum guide. (3) Special fabric display--storage areas to be shown only to those visitors and students with special interests . Those specialists who would like to visit and study these fabrics should make a special appointment. (4) The study room. The study room should be conveniently located next to the storeroom. Here the curator, conservator and student will study fabrics brought out for them from the storeroom. A set of photographs or slides of all fabrics in the collection should be kept so that the student may decide through studying the photographs which pieces are needed for his further study. F6untain or ball-point pens should not be used in this room. Food, drink, and smoking should not be allowed. Illumination It is evident that light accelerates photodegradation of organic materials and dyes. The strength of the light and the length of exposure time affects degradation. The strength of the light should be 10 foot candles, never exceeding 15. Exposure time should be minimized. Though difficult to discern with our eyes, museum collections, particularly the dyes, are adversely affected by seemingly normal use of light. Direct sunlight should not come into the building. Every window and fluorescent light fixture in the building should have ultra-violet ray filters

59

which their duces tance

should be periodically checked and changed annually as they lose effectiveness. In case of the use of incandescent light, which proheat from infra-red rays, proper precautions such as keeping a disbetween the object and the light, should be taken.

In practice, lighting on the art objects in the galleries can easily lead visitors' movement in the galleries. Steps and other obstructions in the building should be lit with low wattage lamps placed as low as possible to the floor so that the illumination of the light will not interfere with light on the art objects. Storeroom, Introduction The fabric storeroom should not be combined with the curator's office, the study room, or the conservation laboratory. This is to avoid fabric's dust from covering other objects, th~ir unnecessary exposure to light and possible changes in atmospheric conditions caused by people going in and out often, as well as to discourage too easy access to the collection. It is essential for everyone to be concerned about providing stable atmospheric conditions, particularly in the storeroom where they will remain for most of their lives. By installing the lighting units alternately on two circuits, the amount of light can be controlled; one unit can be used for general entry or both units for special cleaning and checking. Otherwise the storeroom should be kept absolutely dark. The length and diameter of tubes, the sizes of flat supports, pos-sibly in standard sizes, and the bulk of costumes, whether to be kept flat or on mannequin, will be calculated. Each will be provided with separate units, aimed toward safekeeping and easy access. Rolled fabrics, provided their condition is sound, can be laid on a hard surface such as wood and cardboard, and even sometimes in multiple layers in drawers. It is very important that rolled fabrics be stored horizontally parallel to the one who is handling so that tubes will not be poked and jabbed when being taken in and out of the shelf. To store long tubes, units of shelves in a pullout unit would work well. This would provide the optimum amount of space for storage and safety for handling. Rolls should never be stored standing up on end. Certain fabrics cannot be rolled for various reasons. They have to be prepared according to the condition of each. Most of them will have to be stored flat on a supporting board in drawers, but not stacked. Those which are in the process of being studied or treated should always stay on their supporting board. Every object must be covered for protection against dust, handling and light. Covering material can be paper, polyethylene, tightly woven cotton or a combination of these. Physical Organization of Textiles Thorough physical organization of the collection will make it more

60

available and appreciated. First, the staff must understand the physical characteristics of the entire collection and classify the fabrics: (1) Classification as an object or as a fragment. For example, as a rug or a rug fragment, as a shawl or a fragment of a shawl. (2) Classification according to quality, e.g., first class and second class. (3) Classification according to condition, e.g., very fragile--those with breaking fibers; fair--often in consideration of their age. Conservation Work Conservation work often contributes to curatorial studies. Cooperation with the curator, conservator, and the restorer is important. When a fabric is presented to the conservation laboratory, in the presence of these three parties, the fabric should be studied and plans for its physical presentation be determined. The basis of good conservation is the presentation of an object in its proper physical form in exhibitions, research and storage. An understanding of the nature of the material, condition, and visual impact as a museum object, and preservation plans form the long range plan for conservation. Conservation work should be performed according to the availability of funds, proper personnel, with due consideratim of the condition of the fabric. Although there are exceptions, one rule in doing this work is "all or nothing under a long range plan." A fabric should not be subjected to repeated washings and sewings by various methods over a long period of time. The fabric should be treated only when the conservation methods are scientifically approved. Various factors such as local insect habits, climate and esthetics will affect the choice of materials to be used for mounts and linings. The conservator and restorer's knowledge and sense of fibers, dyes, physical characteristics and structures are important in treating objects. Eventually, laboratory work should be performed only to fight against natural causes such as fading or deterioration due to age. Strict administration of a good handling system directly reduces damage to fabrics. Conservation Laboratory The laboratory should be divided into' two sections: a humid area for washing and drying and a dry area for sewing and other work. A stereozoom microscope of 10 x 70 is essential in the laboratory. The power pod must be mounted on an extended arm such as universal stand to avoid placing on fabrics. It is best to have a high bridge on castors, which the microscope can be secured upon. The microscope itself can also be placed upon a castored base on the bridge which again moves. In this

61

way, for a microscopist, the microscope can be moved right to left and closer and away. The fabric being inspected need not be touched or moved at all. The bridge is also useful as one can place other equipment such as a pH meter on it. A polarizing microscope of 100x to 500 should be used for fiber identification. Without a pH meter no washing should be attempted. Regular litmus paper only measures the pH level of solution and not the absorbent fabric itself. The pH meter should have a solution electrode as well as surface electrode. Particularly since museum fabrics are not supposed to be washed as frequently as ordinary household garments, the alkaline or acid left in the fabric is in the long run adverse. Water supply must be distilled or demineralized and plentiful. The control of temperature (possibly up to 120 degrees F.) is needed in order to use detergents and provide the optimum condition for the fibers being washed. The washing sink or tub can be simple. It can be created on a wooden box-table with an opening in one end. The box-table can be tilted with drain opening resting on the edge of the built-in sink. With heavy polyethylene sheeting within the box-table, a bath is created the correct size for the fabric to be washed. The polyethylene film lining can be easily adjusted to the size of the object and to hold any amount of water. This polyethylene sheeting can be changed easily in very little time, in contrast to cleaning and scouring of a usual sink. Rusty nails and pins should not be in contact with washing water; therefore, it would be proper to use rust proof nails and to coat the wooden box-table with water proofing paint. Conservation Examination Accurate recording of physical and chemical characteristics of fabrics is an essential feature in conservation and preservation work. However, general visual estimations cannot be overlooked. It is our trained eyes which study and discover changes in the condition of the collection and which determine conservation and preservation plans and more importantly environment. Fiber identification: Ability in visual identification of fibers is vital to all those who are authorized to touch fabrics. Fiber content determines studies, conservation, care, and preservation. Dye Analysis: With a relatively simple and inexpensive set-up, thin layer chromatography can be done. To prepare for such studies, when any textile is treated in the conservation laboratory, a 2 cm. long yarn (more is needed if the color is light) of the warp and weft of every color and func-

62

tion in the fabric should be preserved and clearly identified in the file on the object. Dye Mordant Analysis: Mordants of metallic salts can be analyzed by X-ray diffraction. For this, an additional 2 cm. of yarn should be reserved. Fabric Finishing Analysis: Before fabrics were sold, some types of fabric received a finishing treatment. Microscopic and chemical analyses are needed. Classification of Condition: Condition of fiber, yarn, and fabric determines how the fabric will finally be presented and handled. Standards of condition should be set up in a museum by the conservator such as extremely fragile, fragile, fair, and good. Soils and stains or "matter out of place" on fabrics should next be determined. Physical changes caused by folding and sewing, as well as wrinkles and other distortions should be carefully examined. After understanding the fabric, conservation and preservation work may be decided on by the curator, conservator, and restorer. Determination of Soils: Soils have been defined as "matter out of place." For instance, soup in a soup bowl is soup, but if spilled on a rug it is a soil. This identification of the soil leads to determination of the state of its adhesion to the fabric. The state of adhesion of soil and the nature of the fabric determine laboratory work. In doing laboratory work there are six categories of soils: 1) 2) 3) 4) 5) 6)

air removable soil mechanically removable soil wet solvent (water) removable soil dry solvent removable soil special agent removable soil unremovable soil

Air removable soils, those where adhesion is not strong, will be removed by gentle blowing and by vacuum cleaning. Mechanically removable soils are those strongly adhering to the surface of the fabric, which are remains of starchy food, glue, and others. After a long time, they are often in a crystallized form. They can be removed by breaking or pricking the crystalline formation with a needle followed by other necessary treatment. Water removable soils are general airborne soils and other water soluble stains. Since most soils of this type have been on museum fabrics for

63

a long period, they do not normally come out with only water but with a special carrier such as phosphate, detergent and other agents. There are soils which respond to dry solvents. Wax from candles, oily body sweat, and other matters can be removed with dry solvent, if the removing operation is properly carried out. There are soils and stains removable with detergent, phosphate, acids, alkalies, enzymes, whiteners, and others combined with water. The operation requires good pH control and experience in handling aqueous solutions. There is a limit to what a conservator can do to revive a soiled fabric. If a soiled fabric can be revived even with loss of original surface appearance, one must decide if the loss outweighs the cleaning. For archaeological fabrics, preservation of original state is often more important than removing soils. Those excavated fabrics often should not be treated at all, or even straightened out. Conservation Treatment A fabric should be treated only once in its lifetime in the museum. This is the opportunity for it to be thoroughly examined and to be brought as close to its original beauty as possible. This is also the opportunity for it to be exposed to the greatest of dangers in undergoing major changes which are termed as "improvements" by the museum staff. Vacuuming: Vacuum cleaning is important in conservation work, removing so called air removable soil. This is a step taken to treat a majority of fabrics. Spotting: Spotting is a technique used to remove deposits of foreign matters on the fabric by working on the deposits from area to area. Though spotting itself is an independent cleaning method for an unwashable fabric, it is alsd an important cleaning procedure for washables. If spotting is not done prior to washing, a deposit of soil will be dissolved and dispersed in the washing solution, thereby giving it a chance to resettle on other parts of the fabric. Wetting: Water is effective in two ways: in its chemical action and in its physical action. For instance, when stains and severe wrinkles deter the value of a very fragile object which can b~ wet, the chemical action of water can be used to remove stains and a little physical action to remove wrinkles. Washing: Washing water must be filtered through a demineralizer system or an ion-exchange system. Without properly prepared filtered water in plentiful supply, and a control of temperatur~ no fabrics should be washed. The fabrics have to be supported and protected throughout the washing operation because the weight and flow of water damages the weak fabic adversely.

64

Drying: After draining the water from a washed fabri~ the drying operation takes place. First, with clean towelling, excess water and moisture have to be removed by gentle hand pressure. While drying, the fabric normally readjusts itself after swelling and relaxing in wetting. Depending on the condition of the fabric, by pinning it ona drying screen and pressing it by hand, the physical appearance can be adjusted. Sewing: If seen under high magnification, one notices the dangers of sewing through a museum fabric with needle and thread. However, most museum fabrics have to be sewn for conservation purposes--not only to preserve the fabric but also to maintain and emphasize its beauty. When mounting a fabric by sewing, attention should be paid to keep the fabric from being bent. Force should not be given to the fabric in order to put a needle through it. Mounting: There are two major methods of mounting: mounting on a fabric and mounting on a rigid support. Those fabrics that can be sewn and those with many accidental holes can be mounted by sewing to a new fabric backing. Those fabrics that are fragile have fabrics that can be sewn and those that sewn, can be mounted on stretcher frames. mount should be considered as part of the it. Every mount should either be covered in& depending on the type of the mount.

to be classified into two groups: cannot. Those that can be When the mounting is done, the museum fabric that is mounted on with polyethylene film or a lin-

Those fabrics that cannot be sewn will be handled in one of three ways: consolidated as it is, laid free on a solid board with protective covers, or sandwiched between layers of transparent solid material.

(The above material has been greatly condensed from the author's manuscript in which the ideas are more completely developed and the techniques fully described. Interested readers should contact the author directly for information about future publication of the complete paper. - Ed. Note.)

65

PRECOLUMBIAN SOUTH AMERICAN TEXTILES

Panel Chairman:

William J Conklin Trustee The Textile Museum Washington, D.C.

67 THE ARCHAEOLOGICAL LOOMS FROM PERU IN THE by Milica D. Skinner AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY COLLECTION American Museum of Natural History In 1947, after Dr. Junius Bird returned from Peru with over 9,000 textile fragments from the Huaca Prieta, he soon realized the great importance to archaeology of the technological study of textile production. He also recognized at that time the significance of studying ethnographic as well as archaeological looms; and, in order to understand more fully the problems involved, he learned to weave. It has been through his effort and interest that the American Museum of Natural History collections of ethnographic looms from allover the world, and archaeological looms from Peru in particular, have grown continuously to an impressive number. I started assisting Dr. Bird in his textile research in 1958. We have recorded almost all the looms in our collections, with technical analysis and detail, and we hope that a comprehensive survey of the world distribution, past and present, of various types of looms will result from these studies. At this time, the ethnographic collection consists of 189 looms of various types. Dr. Bird has already reported on the implications of the world distribution of backs trap looms at the Congress of the Americanists in Spain in 1964. The first fragments of ancient Peruvian textiles in the American Museum of Natural History collection were purchased and accessioned in 1869. They had been collected by E.G. Squier, the first North American to write on the antiquities and ruins of Peru. In 1901 the Museum obtained the first archaeological looms from Peru, a set of four, as a part of the Gaffron collection through the generosity of Mr. Morris K. Jessup. Three more looms were presented by Mr. A.D. Juilliard in 1915. Since 1955, as a result of Dr. Bird's interest, 54 more looms have been acquired, bringing the total number to 61 at this date. Unfortunately, many (27) archaeological looms in our collection were received without provenience data or any information on the grave associations. The geographical distribution of the collection, from whatever data we have, ranges from Pativilca (4) to the Ica-Nazca valleys (4), with the largest sample from Chancay (23) and three samples from the vicinity of Lima. Chronologically, most of the looms date from the Late Intermediate Period to the Late Horizon. However, we do have three examples from the Middle Horizon. One Middle Horizon loom (41.2/5602), perhaps the oldest in the collection, was received in almost perfect condition (Bird and Dimitrijevic 1964: Fig. 7). All the loom parts, except for the beater and a shed rod, were in place including the bobbin with the cotton weft. Thirty-two of the total 104 warps were broken, mostly those of brown cotton. These were repaired by rejoining breaks where possible and by adding sections of modern thread of similar tone where necessary.

68

The unfinished fabric on this loom is 26 cm. long and 5.6 cm. wide with 37 cm. of warp left unwoven. The band has three multicolored pattern units on a red background, and a fourth pattern had just been started when the weaving was interrupted. The motifs represent a bird's head in profile alternating with a double-headed snake, the figures clearly Middle Horizon in style. The technique used in the fabric resembles tapestry in appearance but differs in having a nearly hidden reinforcing or basic weft yarn in those areas where the patterns occur. The term "reinforced tapestry" was proposed by Dr. Bird some years ago for such pieces (1960: p. 278) and was discussed by Miss Emery (1966: p.89). The use of this technique is fairly common among Middle Horizon textiles and this loom is important in revealing how the work was handled. The fabrics of this technique are usually made with fine cotton warp with the same fine yarn used for the reinforcing weft. All the wool wefts are woven about paired warps, with the reinforcing weft interwoven 1 x 1. In the patterned areas two picks of wool weft alternate with one pick of the basic or reinforcing cotton weft except at the beginning of weaving where, in places, 4 picks of pattern weft lay between each pair of basic wefts. The loom has three heddles. No.1, that nearest to the weaver, controls uneven numbered warps, 1, 3, 5, 7 etc., counting from the left selvage. The next heddle lifts pairs of warp, warps 1 and 2, 5 and 6, 9 and 10 etc. Heddle 3 controls the opposing pairs, warps 3 and 4, 7 and 8, etc. Curiously, what appears to be the shed rod, a section of thin reed, has on top of it the same warp as lifted by heddle 1. Thus it could not have functioned as a shed rod in opposition to heddle 1 and we are forced to conclude that the original shed rod has been removed. In view of the fact that no beater or weave sword was present, it may be that a small beater or sword had also been used as a shed rod and that both were removed and kept by the weaver. The removal of valued loom parts from the little looms prepared as tomb offerings appears to have been a fairly common practice. One finds rough sticks, even broken spindle shafts substituted for the original loom parts suggesting that the work was contracted for and that such contracts did not include the valued tools and parts which the weaver used. Whatever the explanation, the rod or beater needed for the control of the even numbered warps, 2, 4, 6 etc., was missing. With this in place, the little rod with warps 1, 3, 5 etc. on top of it would have served only for keeping the odd and even numbered warps in correct relative order. The weaving had stepped after the insertion of the patterned wool yarns, none of which are on bobbins, in the shed opened by raising heddle 3. This was the second pick of patterned yarns after the last pick of basic cotton weft was inserted with even numbered warp raised. The next movement would have been to raise heddle 1 and insert the basic cotton weft from the left selvage. The bobbin with this yarn had been inserted, presumably only temporarily, between heddles 2 and 3 and lay under the warp controlled by heddle 1. In that position the bobbin would have interfered with the use of heddle 3 and the shed rod, hence, the deduction that it was placed in the warp only for storage.

69 The second 100m (41.2/7002) from the !1iddle Horizon has a fabric, perhaps intended for a head band, also made in the "reinforced tapestry" technique. The third 100m (41.2/5913) probably from Late Middle Horizon is an unfinished slit tapestry band. All three looms share a common technical aspect; that is, each has 2 picks of heading. All other looms in this collection with the exception of one from Pachacamac (B/7769) have only one pick of heading. This 100m (B/7769), although incomplete, is of interest because of the unusual lashing of the fabric to the 100m bar. The lashing is run over two picks of the heading between the warps; such density of turns makes the lashing loops vertical rather than spiral as is the case in the majority of the looms in our collection. The dense, vertical lashing turns occur on another example in the collection, a 100m from Paraiso near Lima, Fig. 1 (B/8742). A similar one from Pachacamac is illustrated by Schmidt (1929: p. 519). We cannot say at this time whether this manner of lashing was a regional characteristic. One might assume that the narrowness of the 100m product required such density of lacing, but in other looms with unfinished fabrics of similar width, this is not the case. Almost all types of weave are represented in the collection; namely, plain weave, tapestry, supplementary and complementary weft fabrics, gauze with supplementary weft pattern, interlocked warps and warp pattern. Two or more techniques are often combined, especially in what appear to be samplers (Bird: 1961, Fig. 8). Depending upon the complexity of the weave, one or several heddles are used. As always, there is an exception. The plain weave, 1 x 1 fabric with single and double-face weft pattern on the loom shown in Fig. 2 (41.2/5403) may have been placed in the tomb without a heddle; at least, no heddle lacing was found among the warp. There were a few scraps of very fine 2-ply yarn adhering to some warps, but they were scattered and not caught under any of the warps. There are, however, four sticks: three of flowering stalks of cattail; the fourth, nearest the weaver, of cana brava. The rod nearest to the weaver controls uneven numbered warps and works in opposition to the third rod, which takes care of the even numbered ones. The second rod lifts every other pair of warps used for the pattern; the fourth duplicates rod number 1. One 100m, (41.2/5478), with cotton double face warp pattern was received lacking all wooden parts except for one 100m bar, Fig.3. This weaving technique requires two heddles. There were enough remnants of lacing in this case to restore the heddles entirely. Heddle No. 1 separates all grey warps. Heddle No.2, which was in much better condition, and therefore was worked on first, controls alternate uneven brown warps. We have added the shed rod for the balance of the brown warps. Looms of this size appear to have been made specifically for tomb offerings. The dimensions of the planned fabric on this loom, for example, 36 cm. X 9 cm., could have been used as a shirt sleeve or a very narrow pouch. Since such articles are not known, at least in our collection, we suggest that this and similar small looms were constructed specifically for burial purposes.

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A 100m of interest in this respect is the one shown in Fig. 4 (41.2/5488). Half of the sampler was executed carefully and evenly in slit tapestry. In contrast, the other half shows that the warps were handled carelessly or maybe hurriedly in pairs, distorting the fabric. Was it that two different weavers used the 100m, perhaps one of them a novice? Or did one weaver ignore her own standards of craftsmanship in order to enter something on the warp, a product good enough for the other world? There are, however, looms buried with the dead that were not prepared for just that purpose. A pair of looms, Fig. 5a (41.2/5482;5483), with unfinished fabrics that match in size, pattern and color were obviously intended to be joined after completion of the weaving, probably into some kind of garment. The technique used is slit tapestry with a double face complementary weft pattern band. Both looms were initially warped with the same number of turns, totaling 116 warps, forming fabric widths of 26 and 26.3 cm. The identical number of warps and the different characteristics of each heading cord show that the warping of the two looms was done individually and that the turns were counted. The warp is made of a crepe twist cotton yarn. Thus it is difficult to measure warp lengths accurately without stretching, which should not be done to ancient textiles. The lengths as they now are differ by 3 cm. only. Originally they were probably identical. In both cases the weaving started at the end which would be at its present stage away from the weaver with 16 picks of plain weave of gray and white cotton weft in one case, and 15 picks of white cotton in the other, resulting in 0.6 and 0.8 cm. of fabric, respectively, The widths of the fabrics in these areas cannot be compared since in one case most of the weft has disintegrated. Once this initial weaving was done, the shed rods were reversed and the work started at the opposite end. After the weft pattern bands were well started, the weavers decided that each 100m should have 12 more warps. Each weaver then took six lengths of yarn, turning them over the heading cords at the upper loom bar without incorporating them into the initial plain weave., Fig. 5b. The proper shed order was maintained and a small individual loop was made for the added warps that had to be lifted by the heddles. The added warps occur at irregular intervals and at different points on each 100m. The increase in width of fabric is too negligible to assume the addition was made for that purpose. The only explanation for this careful incorporation of additional warps is that the design in the slit tapestry area required more warps than originally calculated. From the work completed it seems that the finished products were meant to be joined by sewing the right selvage of one to the left of the other. These two 100m products would seem hardly adequate for a shirt. The few picks of plain weave on the opposite end of the pattern area suggest that slit tapestry areas were Qot intended to run the full length of the warp and that eventually more of the plain weave was planned. Loin cloths were often made in this fashion, hence the suggestion that

71

this may have been the function of the finished product. A study of complete garments of the period should answer this question. The American Huseum of Natural History collection does not by any means consist of complete looms only. It includes incomplete ones and also unfinished fabrics that retain only bits and pieces of hedd1e lacing or some other feature that might lead to partial or total reconstruction or interpretation of the 100m. A good example is the unfinished sampler (41.2/5401) created in slit tapestry, gauze and supplementary weft pattern (Bird: 1961, Fig. 8). When received in the Huseum, all 100m parts were mi§sing except one 100m bar. By carefully examining and measuring the remaining hedd1e lacing, the heading cords, the number, length and the distribution of the lacing turns still in place, and by combining this information with a knowledge of comparative material, one could, with reasonable accuracy, reconstruct the missing wooden parts. A 100m with an unfinished warp and weft float fabric that required extensive restoration is shown in Fig. 6 (41.2/5477). This is the only example known to the author of this weaving technique in the course of production. Of the now complete 370 warps, 331 were repaired, some of them in two places. In spite of the condition of the 100m when received (Bird and Dimitrijevic: 1964, Fig. 6), during the course of untangling and repairing the warp, enough remnants of the three hedd1e lacings and lace cord were found to determine the exact original controls. Many days of tedious and time-consuming work were involved, justified only by its uniqueness. Some of these looms, at least the larger one, were probably used with backstraps while others might have been sustained by supporting poles or rods. There is only one 100m (41.2/7052) in the entire collection that has a yoke and backstrap. It is one of the small-size category with 100m bars less than half a meter long and a warp length of about 60 cm. For determining the manner in which the looms were operated, we have to depend on 'various sources of information, namely drawings on pottery, fabric assemblages, historic and modern sources, etc. The earliest depictions of backstrap looms appear in the Mochica Period. A well-known example is the vessel in the British Museum showing a series of weaving scenes. Tridimensional assemblages of cloth dolls engaged in various daily activities, including weaving, were popular during the Chancay Period. A charming example is in our collection Fig. 7, (41.2/5630). It represents a woman at a backstrap 100m with a child sitting by and helping to prepare the hedd1e lacing. Guaman Poma de Ayala, in the late 16th century, made two drawings of Inca women weaving on backs trap looms identical with the ones used today in the Cuzco area (Ayala: 1956, p. 152, 153). A model of what might be called an A-frame 100m is represented in

72 another Chancay group housed in the University Museum of Philadelphia. It shows a woman working ather 100m which is leaned against a tree (Kidder, II: ]963, p. 36). The only working example of an archaeological A-frame loom is in the Berlin VBlkerkunde Museum (Schmidt: 1921, p. 520). The frame consists of two lengths of cane, their upper ends touching. The lower loom bar is bound to the sticks while the upper bar is suspended by two strips of unspun hard fibers. The unfinished fabric appears to be a complementary weft pattern. In the same collection there is a tapestry fragment from Pachacamac depicting a woman working on such an A-frame loom (Schmidt:1929, p. 429), a unique theme in the textile iconography so far as we know. ~iniature models of looms made of metal, usually silver, are present among Chimu grave offerings. One such model in our collection (41.2/5872) is the A-frame type, while the Peabody Museum of Harvard has one with a crossed frame which could be referred to as X-type. In this case, the loom bars are secured to the upper and lower ends of the crossed supports.

The only representation of a vertical loom was reported by Ina Van Stan at The Junius Bird Textile Conference. It appears as part of a scene on top of the spout of a double chamber blackware jar which is in the possession of the Museo de Sitio de Pachacamac. The scene depicts two women working on opposite sides of the loom and a man· standing, observing the work. The loom consists of a horizontal bar resting on two posts with forked tops. This piece has inspired an antiquity forger in Lima to produce a similar scene in gold. The foregoing is not intended as a complete review of the American Museum of Natural History's archaeological loom collection. Its purpose is to point out the range of possibilities of their study and interpretation. Any ancient loom, regardless of seeming insignificance, can add something to our knowledge of weaving technology and merits care and attention.

73

Fig. 1

Archaeo1ogicar Loom B/8742

Slit tapestry with occasional interlocking weft. Warp length: 161 cm. Fabric width: 4.4 cm.

Fig. 3

Archaeological Loom 41.2/5478

Complementary warp pattern. Warp length: 36 cm. Fabric width: 8 cm.

Fig. 2

Archaeological Loom 41.2/5403

Supplementary weft pattern. Warp length: 41 em. unstretched. Fabric width: 33 cm.

74

Fig. 4

Archaeological Loom 41.2/5488

Slit tapestry. Warp length: 46.3 cm. Fabric width: 27.5-30 cm.

Fig. 5a

Archaeological Looms 41. 2/5482, 5483

S-lit tapestry and double face complementary pattern. Warp lengths: 107 cm., 110 cm. Fabric widths: 26 cm., 26.3 c~ Fig. 5b

Detail of loom 41.2/5482 showing added warps.

75

Fig. 6

Archaeological Loom 41.2/5477

Warp and weft float pattern. Warp length: 33.7 cm. ~abric width incomplete 22 cm

Fig. 7b Detail showing the child helping to prepare the heddle lacing. 41.2/5630.

Fig. 7a Two cloth dolls sitting on cloth-covered base made of a weaver's old work basket preparing heddle lacing on backstrap 100m. 41.2/5630.

76

Bibliography: Bennett, Wedell C. 1949 1960

and Bird, Junius B.

Andean Culture History, pp. 257-293. Inc., Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Lancaster Press,

Bird, Junius B. 1961

"Textile Designing and Samplers in Peru," Essays in PreColumbian Art and Archaeology, S.K. Lothrop and others, Pp. 299-316. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Bird, Junius B. and Dimitrijevic, Milica. 1964

"The Care and Conservation of Ethnological and Archaeological Backstrap Looms," Curator, Quarterly Publication of Amer. Museum of Natural History, Vol. VII, No.2, 1964, pp. 99-120. New York.

Emery, Irene 1966

The Primary Structure of Fabrics. Washington, D.C.

The Textile Museum,

Kidder, Alfred D., II 1963

"A Unique Peruvian Weaver," Expedition, Vol. 5, No.2, Winter. The Bulletin of the University Museum, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa.

Poma de Ayala, Felipe Guaman 1956

"Epoca Prehispanica," Part I of La Nueva Cronica y Buen Gobierno, Servicio de Prensa, Propaganda y Publicationes Militares, Lima, Peru.

Schmidt, Max 1929

Kunst und Kultur von Peru. Berlin.

Propylaen-Verlag, G.M.B.H.,

Van Stan, Ina 1973

"The Junius B. Bird Pre-Columbian Textile Conference," p. 21. Abstract, Washington, D.C.

77

PAMPA GRAMALOTE TEXTILES

by William J Conklin Research Associate ChanChan-Moche Valley Project

Pampa Grama10te is the modern name given to a set of 3500 year old settlement remains found on a coastal site in Northern Peru. This site was tested, and in part excavated, in 1973 by archaeologists working under the auspices of the ChanChan-Moche Valley Project. 1 The excavation produced an assemblage of textiles which contributes to the understanding of Initial Period textile techniques and which clarifies the relationship between twining and weaving. The site, located near Huanchaquito north of Trujillo, occupies about 20,000 square meters of coastal pampa and overlooks the Pacific Ocean. Although little is visible on the surface, the excavations revealed extensive remains of a late Initial Period settlement. A stone walled architectural complex was cleared and several test pits were excavated. Pottery fragments were present, organic preservation was good, and extensive subsistence data were obtained . All of the materials from the site seem to represent a coherent cultural unit. Padre Aban is the name given to a small Pre-ceramic Period cite near Pampa Grama10te. Netting fragments from this site are included in this report. The textile fragments with which this report is concerned were found both in the course of the architectural excavations and throughout the various stratigraphic test pits and cuts. The depth of refuse in places reaches about two meters, with weaving and twining present at both top and bottom. Although careful layer analysis was made, the textile sample is too small to convey technical changes over the time period involved, if any indeed existed. Processing and recording of the textiles were performed by the author with Bettina Rosenberg, Miz Becker and Barbara Conklin. Irene Emery has given invaluable aid in understanding the textile structures, but the author bears full responsibility for the descriptions except for directly attributed quotations. A few additional textiles were excavated after this analysis was completed, but they could not be included in this report. In general, the structural techniques and materials used in the textiles seem coherent with information available concerning other Initial Period textiles, both those from other North Coast sites and those from sites in the Central and South Coast. It is hoped that the data supplied in this report can facilitate detailed comparisons. The total number of textile fragments and fibers recorded from Pampa Grama10te is 313, with the following distribution: lThe ChanChan-Moche Valley Project is sponsored by the National Geographic Society and the National Science Foundation working out of the Peabody Museum of Harvard University. M. Edward Moseley and Carol Mackey are co-directors of the Project. Excavations at the site were under the direct supervision of Shelia Pozorski and Donald Weaver.

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TEXTILES Looping Netting Twining Plain Weave Twill

5 19 29 116 2

FIBERS AND MISCELLANEOUS CORDAGE Cordage 11 Cotton threads 84 Unspun cotton 27 Plant fibers 17 Hair 2 Sandal fragments 1

171 142 The number of textile fragments and fibers recovered from the nearby Pre-ceramic site, Padre Aban, totals 26: Netting Plant fibers Cordage Unspun cotton Cotton threads

4 5 6 1 10 26

Cotton Analysis The material used in the twining, weaving and single-element constructions is entirely cotton. No use of any other plant fiber or animal hair was detected in any of these textile types, although the fragments of basketry, cordage and a sandal fragment include other plant fibers. The different colors of cotton, ranging from near white to brown, are used for patterning in the textiles and are especially apparent in the larger samples of twining, such as Figure 1. Four samples of cotton fiber taken from variously colored cotton types have been analyzed by S. G. Stephens of the Department of Genetics, North Carolina State University (personal communication). This analysis has been undertaken in an effort to determine what characteristic differences exist among the fibers in addition to their color differences. One sample of fiber was taken from Pampa Gramalote knotted netting, presumably a fragment of a fishing net. Three other sample groups of fibers were taken from a weft twined fabric, similar to that illustrated in Figure 1, which used different colored cotton warps to create a warp-striped textile. One sample was from the brown warps; one, from t~e lighter-colored warps; and one, from the light-colored cotton used for the weft. Measurements were made by Dr. Stephens of the widths of the cotton fibers after flattening, and of the widths of the lumen, or internal canal fiber, also after flattening. From these measurements, the relative wall thicknesses of the various cotton types were calculated. In all, 160 measurements were made. Differences between samples with respect to fiber width did not seem to be significant; however, there did seem to be a difference in relative wall thicknesses. The cotton fibers from the netting had an average

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relative wall thickness of 54%;that of the brown warps, 44%;that of the light-colored warps, 36%;and that of the light-colored wefts, 34%. Stephens noted that the relative wall thickness in all samples was lower than that found in modern cotton. He also observed that the fibers with the lowest relative wall thicknesses, the light-colored cotton used in the warps and wefts, would be classed by modern standards as being very immature. Such fibers, he noted, would certainly have a softer texture and would not be very strong. Stephens also reported that the fiber widths measured in these samples were of the same order as those found in the Gaviota samples from Ancon (Stephens and Moseley, 1973) and in the Pre-ceramic samples from the Huaca Prieta, HP-3. Two observations from this analysis of the fiber wall thicknesses suggest that there was selective usage of cotton structural types at Pampa Gramalote. The first observation is the relative consistency of the wall thicknesses of fibers from a given cottQn type, as established by color and use; e.g., brown cotton warp. This suggests the degree of selectivity developed by Pampa Gramalote weavers in matching cotton types to special functional, color, or design requirements in the different parts of fabric construction. The second and more specific observation is that the thickestwalled cotton type among those measured was used in the sample of knotted netting. It seems reasonable to assume that in the construction of a fishing net, strength and durability would be dominant criteria, and this agrees with the evidence. Selection of specific cottons for various fabric constructions probably involved a whole range of factors in addition to strength and durability. Textile Use The fragmentary nature of the textile remains makes use analysis largely dependent upon an assumed correlation between structure and function. This structure of knotted netting is an example of a convincing relationship between form and function. Knotted netting is so constructed as to produce equal strength in all directions, making it appropriate to its aquatic function. Consider, though, the analysis of the one complete textile product excavated--a weft twined fabric rectangle, illustrated in Figure 1. The twined fabric from which the samples analyzed by Stephens were taken (H6l6B-l=7, 2 of 4), structurally virtually identical to Figure 1, has widely spaced wefts and very closely spaced warps. In a 10 cm. square section of textile, there are about 16 wefts and 120 warps. Although both warp and weft use plied elements, the individual warp threads have diameters 2 or 3 times as large as the weft threads. And as noted above, the cotton used in the warps, on average, has thicker walls than that used in the wefts. These three factors, each of which produces greater strength in the warp direction than in the weft, if combined, indicate that this textile would he about 75 times as strong in tension warp-wise as weft-wise. This analysis indicates that the

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textile was probably structured for a use which produced stress essentially in one direction, as for example would be the case in a wall hanging or in a shawl. It does not seem possible that this textile was designed to withstand the normal stresses of clothing. Many of the twined samples have this same structural asymmetry and their use, like that of Figure 1, remains unknown. Other twined fragments have much more closely spaced wefts, and would seem much more able to withstand the multi-directional stresses to which clothing is subjected (Figures 4 and 5). The woven samples characteristically have more nearly balanced warp and weft, and hence, structurally at least, could have been used for clothing. Certain fragments of weaving have attached fringes and some fragments are joined by simple overcasting stitches. The 100m widths of the weaving are very narrow, though, none recorded being larger than 24 cm., and there is a total absence of belts or cords. These factors make it difficult to suggest that any of the recovered weaving fragments were actually used for clothing. The only really definite textile use is that associated with burial. Fragments of single-element looping were found associated with the head of a burial. Pieces of plain weave around the body and face may have been mummy wrapping or clothing (Figure 7). Other than these meager clues, we have no identification of the uses of the textiles~ Fiber Preparation and Element Manufacture The presence of loose cotton, partially spun threads, and broken plied threads throughout the areas of the excavations indicates the ubiquitous nature of spinning in the Pampa Gramalote settlement. The only evidence of spinning equipment found, however, was a single ceramic spindle whorl (Bozorski, 1974). The whorl is cylindrical, 15 mm. long and 14 mm. in diameter, and is decorated around the circumference with a series of five cross-shaped (+) incisions. The direction of spinning is almost entirely in the S direction. Various explanations have been offered for the presence of S or Z spinning. It has been suggested that each plant fiber or animal hair has an inherent direction. It has also been suggested that if one spiuning direction is normal, the opposite may be considered to have magical qualities. "Right" and "wrong" spinning are referred to with the associations of "adroit" and "gauche". Our only Peruvian archaeological hard evidence, however, is that spinning direction is remarkably consistent within a given area and time period. North Coast textiles are virtually all S-spun, and Pampa Gramalote textiles are consistent with that tradition. Some of the exceptions, and possible explanations, are noted later. Element Construction A discussion of element construction involves an examination of the ways in which spun fibers were used directly, were plied, or were combined

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to form threads and groups of threads for the warp and weft elements of the faorics. Figures 2 and 3 record this information for the twining and for the plain weaves. The variety within such a small total sample is notable, as is the consistency within a given textile. This variety of types creates the impression that we are observing designed structural types, and not mere accidental changes. But because of the fragmentary nature of the samples, only rarely are there clues to the purposes of the different structures. The single most prevalent element is constructed of two S-spun threads Z-p1ied together. This element is used for 90% of the weaving warps and 50% of the warps of the weft-twined fabrics. This S-spun, Z-p1ied element is also used for all of the twining wefts but only 25% of the weaving wefts. In the twining shown in Figure 4, pairs of such elements were used for both the warp and weft. The next most common element is S-spun yarn used singly or in pairs. Such yarns, paired, form the most common weft in plain weave. Pairing of the S-spun yarns, rather than plying, produces a greater surface area of slightly weaker textile for a given quantity of cotton. The most puzzling combination, and the third most frequent, is an unequal pair of the S-spun yarn with an S-spun, Z-p1ied thread. This combination is used for the warp in more than a third of the twining samples. The asymmetry of the combination in many cases is accentuated by pairing a very large diameter Z-p1ied thread with a minute S-spun yarn. One twined fabric pairs a three-ply (z) thread with a tiny S-spun yarn. These combinations produce a herringbone effect visible, however, only under the microscope. No explanation for this combination of e1e~ents for warps seems apparent. The unp1ied yarns often are broken and have missing sections, while the plied threads remain strong. It is possible that the plied and unp1ied threads had color' differences that are not now apparent. The frequency and consistency of the construction, however, clearly implies purposefulness. Two Element Fabric Construction In weft twining, the wefts turn about each other as they enclose the warps, creating a more secure warp-weft connection than is created by the interlacing of warps and wefts in weaving. In twining, the security of the connection permits wide spacing of the weft rows. In the Pampa Grama10te fragments, twining far exceeds weaving in the variety and complexity of its fabric construction. The fabric construction of the twining samples varies greatly in the size, compactness, and color of the warps, presumably according to the specific purpose of the textile being created. Weft spacing also varies greatly, from compact weft-twining used for end conditions (Figure 1) and for decorative bands (Figure 6), to wefts spaced 2 cm. or so apart. Virtually all of the twining is in the Z direction, which does not seem logically coherent with the element construction. Since the twined wefts are created of two-ply S-spun, Z-p1ied e1emnts, the twining of the wefts around

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the warps normally occurs in the elements themselves. This means the plying, as would be expected twining of Z-plied elements will

same direction as the final plying of the that the twining action is not counter to in a process so similar to re-plying. Zactually tend to loosen the ply.

In addition to spaced weft-twining and compact weft-twining, several special forms of weft-twining are present in the samples. One of these, Figure 5, shows the construction of a twined textile that has warp-wise ribbing constructed by spaced weft-twining with interlacing. This effect has been created by full turns in the weft-twining to create warp-wise slits, followed by interlacing of the weft with groups of warps. Twining and weaving thus alternate sequentially along the weft axis of the textile. Because of the presence of the interlacing, it is possible that this twined textile was constructed with some form of heddling device. Other Pampa Gramalote twined fabrics demonstrate even more complex forms of patterned, spaced weft twining, in which warps move from face to face of the textile (H6l68A-2=92). The warps, however, in Pampa Gramalote textiles never move laterally, as reported for the related textiles from the Huaca Prieta (Bird, 1952). The warp patterning in these Pampa Gramalote twined textiles is also probably iconographic, but is as yet undeciphered. An entirely different form of combined twining and weaving is illustrated in Figure 6. In this fabric, compact weft-twining is used for patterned bands in an otherwise plain weave fabric. This use of weft for patterning is another feature which distinguishes Pampa Gramalote twined textiles from the Huaca Prieta twined textiles (Bird and Mahler, 1951-52). The weaving and twining constructions in this case (Figure 6), alternate sequentially along the warp axis of the textile. The stepped fret pattern has been constructed by two-strand full turn twining with paired weft elements, countered, and in two colors. The pattern also appears on the opposite side of the textile, with the colors reversed. The structure of these elaborate twined fabrics seems much more complex than that found in later North Coast textiles. Weaving constructions, however, are much simpler at Pampa Grama10te. In addition to the varieties of plain weave found, as for example Figure 7, patterning occurs and twill is present. The patterned fragment of plain weave ~llustrated in Figure 8 is colored red with material seemingly closer to paint than to dye. The pattern is a simple geometric repeat formed with weft floats and warp floats Irene Emery (personal communication) considered this "a natural way of patterning in plain weave, in fact one of the simplest, but one not seen before." She considered that it might be, in fact, "the first way of patterning in plain weave." Two samples of twill occurred amongst the fragments. Figure 9 shows structural patterning in the form of 2/2 horizontal herringbone twill with paired elements. The construction of twill virtually demands the use of a 100m and some form of heddling device. Irene Emery felt it most likely that this textile indicates the use of four-shed hedd1e weaving.

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Single Element Construction Knotted netting and looping are the two forms of single-element construction found at Pampa Gamalote. They were recovered from both the architectural excavations and from the various strata cuts. Nineteen fragments of knotted netting, presumably fish nets, were found, none with edge conditions present. All use simple overhand knots. Figure 10 shows the distribution of these samples according to the size bf the mesh and according to the number of yarns used in the construction of the netting element. The resulting groupings reveal the existence of two distinct types of netting characterized by the large or small scale of their mesh. The nets with the large mesh, over 3.5 cm. square, have from four to twelve S-spun single yarns used for the construction of the re-plied elements; while the nets with the small mesh use from two to eight S-spun yarns in the construction of their elements, and have a mesh size which varies between .5 cm. and 1 cm. These two net types must have had quite different functions. Re-plied elements were used in 80% of the nets, a kind of construction that certainly produced a stronger and more consistent element than the simple plying used for warps and wefts in weaving and twining. The fiber analysis of the netting, as noted above, also indicated the use of stronger cotton than that used in the textiles. All of these factors point to the priority which this sea coast culture placed on the construction of the fishing nets. The Pre-ceramic site of Padre Aban, near Pampa Gramalote, produced four net fragments; and although the sample number is tiny, they nevertheless hold considerable interest. Only two of the fragments had enough of the netting present to permit reliable measurement of the size of the mesh. Both fragments had a mesh size smaller than any of the 19 samples from the Initial Period site. Also, three of the four samples used Z-spinning, which is in considerable contrast to the Initial Period site where only four out of 145 samples used Z-spinning. Five fragments of looping occurred in the lot. All were of the same construction: Figure-8 looping, overlapping and interlaced. Two of the fragments used two S-spun yarns, Z-plied, while the other three fragments used four S-spun, Z-plied. Again, although the sample is tiny, it is interesting to note that the four-ply construction that occurs in these looping fabrics did nttoccur as a method of constructing thread in any other fabric type. . Conclusions The Pampa Gramalote textiles were created during the Initial Period, a time which, according to the records of textile fragments recovered, apparently saw the transition from twining to weaving. Although the Pampa Gramalote textiles are fragmentary and not great in number, they nevertheless provide us with a view of the truly correlative status of the two

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techniques, and the coherence of the spinning and plying characteristics of all the basic threads indicates common personnel and production processes throughout all of the textiles. In bulk, weaving far exceeds twining, but the woven fabrics are ordinary, and the twined ones are complex and highly specialized. It seems evident that when special fabric structures were called for, when iconography was to be represented, twining was selected. lihen an economical textile with multi-directional stress characteristics was needed, weaving was the choice. Establishing really specific relationships between type of textile construction and use of the finished textile would assist materially in understanding other aspects of the evolving culture of the Initial Period. This can only be accomplished when more complete textile information is recovered in the course of archaeological excavations. An examination of the structural distinction between twining and weaving can also assist in understanding the very close relationship of the two techniques. Twining is a fabric construction in which pairs of weft elements turn about each other consistently in one direction as they enclose successive warps. This turning can be either clockwise, producing Z-twining, or counter clockwise, producing S-twining; but it must be consistent to produce a twined textile. Weaving can be structurally described as a form of fabric construction in which pairs of weft elements turn about each other alternately clockwise and counter clockwise as they enclose successive warps. Weaving thus can be considered as merely a special form of twining, rather than an alternate or opposing form of fabric construction. In weaving, the wefts must be closely spaced if a stable fabric structure is to be produced. In twining, the wefts can be compact or widely spaced, providing a great range of possible structural characteristics. Weaving, however, is susceptible to the use of element set separators as aids in production, whereas twining is not. The presence of both techniques occurring in conjunction within textiles suggests that they were truly complementary, rather than sequential during this time period. The many examples of weft patterning in Pampa Gramalote textiles, the presence of twill, as well as the absence of lateral warp movements in twining, distinguish them from those from the Huaca Prieta, but it is difficult to know whether this represent~ spatial or temporal differences. It is possible that the limited time period represented by Pampa Gramalote fits into a gap in the long time sequence represented by the Huaca Prieta and its associated sites. . The S-spinning direction characteristic of the North Coast of Peru was thoroughly established by the time period of Pampa Gramalote. However, the few netting samples from Padre Aban suggest that during the earlier Preceramic time period, Z-spinning may have been common. Netting also shows an increase in mesh size from the Pre-ceramic samples to the Initial Period ones.

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In a broad way, the style of all Pampa Gramalote textiles could be called structuralism. Design always rigidly adheres to structural principles, and results from structural ingenuity. There is no trace of non-structural materials used for design purposes, no discontinuous weft, no supplemental elements, no painted-on designs. The entire process of textile production, from cotton type development and selection, through yarn and element construction, to design and fabric construction is impressively complex.

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Figure 1

Twined Textile with Warp-wise Striping

This textile, found near the bottom of one 'of the test pits at Pampa Grama1ote, is constructed of spaced weft-twining, with three colors of cotton used to form the striped pattern. The warp selvages have a looped fringe and seven rows of compact twining. The warps are paired, with one warp being a single ply S-spun yarn, and the other being 2-p1y, S-spun and Z-p1ied. The weft is S-spun, Z-p1ied. 44 cm. x 84 cm. (H6168B-1=60 #10)

87

Warp pair; each S-spun

Z-pliad

...... Q)

~

pair: each

S-spun Z-plied

pair: each S-SPW1

air: pair: one S-SPWl, one 5-spun one ~8Pun one Z-spun Z-p1ied

13

8

1

1

14

9

2

pair: each 5-spun

1

2

pair: four : one S-SPWl pair:S-spun one 3-ply pair:S- spun S-spun Z-p Z-plied

1

1

26

1

3

2

29

1 1 Construction of warp and weft elements in twining Figure 2 Twined Fabric Construction

The twined fabrics from Pampa Gramalote are all weft-twined; that is, a pair of weft elements twine about each other enclosing successive groups of warp elements. Only two types of weft pairs occur, but many types of warp were present. The twining fragments also differ greatly, one from another, in the spacing of the wefts, and in the size and color of the warp elements.

Warp sine1e:

5-spun Z-Dlied eil1&le: 5-epun pair: each 5-eplDl

pair: Qach four:eaeh single: 5-epun 5-spun 5-spun Z-plied Z-pl1ed

pa1r:8aeh 8111&1., 5-epun Z-epun S-~l1.d

3

3

59

62

3

four: each 5-spun

1

1

pa1r: one S-spun

1

on. 5-8Pun Z-pli ed 8111&1e, 5-epun Z-pl1ecl

pair: each 5-epun Z-pli ad

..

.... Q)

~

e i l1&le. Z-apun 5-pl1 ed

31

31 11

1

1

14

1

2

2

e111&18, Z-spun e1l1&le. Z-epun 5-pli ed

1

1 1

1 1

107 2 1 4 1 1 116 Construction of warp and weft elements in plain weave

Figure 3

Plain Weave Construction

The weaving fragments from Pampa Gramalote are almost entirely plain weave, But have a 'ride variety in the warp and weft element assembleges. The spinning and plying of the individual elements themselves though, is the same as for those used in twining. The most common plain weave type has plied warps and a pair of S-spun but unplied, wefts.

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Fig. 4

Detail of Spaced Weft-twining

A square inch of one of the most finely constructed spaced weft-twining fragments from Pampa Gramalote. The weft spacing is .4 cm. and there are eight pairs of plied warps per cm. The bottom three rows in the photographic detail are Stwined, the upper ones are Z-twined. The reason for the change is unknown. (H6168A-2=5, 2 of 2, #3a)

Fig. 5

Detail of Complex Twining A square inch of one of the complex twined textiles from Pampa Gramalote. The weft pairs twine around warp pairs and around single warps, and interlace with groups of warps to form a woven and twined textile which has warpwise ribbing. The weft spacing is .5 cm. Both single ply and two ply warps are used. The weft is all 2-ply, S-spun and Z-plied. (H6168A-2=5,2 of 2, #3c)

89

Figure 6

Plain Weave with Compact Patterned Twining

The horizontal band has a stepped fret pattern constructed by twostrand full-turn twining with paired weft elements, countered and in two colors, broWllcand near white. The stepped fret pattern occurs throughout ancient Peruvian history, though this is one of the earliest records of its use. The pattern in the upper band is constructed by the same technique. Plain weave forms the background body of the textile with weft, Sspun and paired, and warp, S-spun Z-plied. (H6168B-3=77)

Figure 7

Plain Weave with Heading Cord

This cotton textile covered the face in a burial excavated by Shelia Pozorski at the Pampa Gramalote site. The warps are made up of two S-spun yarns, Z-plied. The wefts, however, consist of pairs of S-spun elements. This represents the most common textile construction type found at the site. The warps, in groups of five, are tied around the heading cord which is itself constructed of five Sspun, Z-plied yarns. The count is square, six pairs of weft per cm. and 6 warp elements per cm. (H6168A-2=18)

90 Figure 8

Patterned Weaving

The reddish-pink color of the textile was not created by a true dyeing process, but rather by painting or dusting. The pattern is created by simple weft floats and warp floats, but represents the most complex weaving found at Pampa Gramalote. Warp and weft are 2-ply, S-spun and Z-plied. (H6l68B-l=44)

Figure 9

2/2 Horizontal Herringbone Twill with Paired Elements

This fragment of twill, and another of diamond twill, both found at Pampa Gramalote, represent a form of structural patterning most likely created by four-shed heddle weaving. Warp and weft are pairs of S-spun, Z-plied threads. (H6l68A-2=8l #5)

91

5 4

4

: 3 CI)