Carpets and Textiles from East Turkestan and Western China

1. Vase and Pomegranate Design

The oasis towns of Khotan, Yarkand and Kashgar are located along the southern branch of the fabled Silk Road in the Xinjiang region of north-western China. Since ancient times until the early decades of the twentieth century, they have been known to the outside world as trading centers with long histories of textile production. Near these cities, archaeologists have discovered fragments of pile-knotted carpets and other textiles preserved in the dry sandy soil. Some date back almost two millennia and new discoveries continue to be made.

Located at the crossroads of Central Asia, the three cities have been historically important during numerous periods. In a repeated pattern, local kingdoms flourished from trading activities for as long as a few centuries before passing away. The Silk Road and its many tributaries formed a tenuous link between ancient Greece and Rome and the land they called Serica. This was the unknown country of silk, located somewhere far to the east.

Old trading routes from Central Asia and China also penetrated south into Tibet and India through difficult mountain passes. More than two thousand years ago, one result of this commercial connection was the gradual conversion to Buddhism of the populations of Khotan, Yarkand and Kashgar. Trade in ideas and ways of life across formidable geographical boundaries produced a social transformation in the heart of Central Asia which would have major historical consequences.

The region played a crucial role in the development of the Buddhist religion after it expanded from its origins in India. During following centuries, numerous monasteries in the three centers were influential in the diffusion of new beliefs and practices. Carried by merchants and religious pilgrims along established trade routes, they found converts in China and as far as Korea and Japan. Intriguing cave paintings found throughout the region date from this time of rapid cultural evolution. With designs inspired by Buddhism and animist beliefs, they are convincing evidence of the achievements in visual art and religious exploration of the local cultures during this extended period.

In the study of Central Asian textiles, the older name East Turkestan has the advantage of being less definite than the Chinese province of Xinjiang which is the modern description. Unlike the modern borders of Xinjiang, the changeable boundaries of East Turkestan will never be known with great precision. They now exist in memory and imagination. However, the older description continues to be a useful reminder of the historical periods when these textiles were first woven and their designs evolved.

Although commonly referred to as rugs and carpets, the majority of East Turkestan pile weavings surviving from past centuries were intended to be used as wall tapestries. With few exceptions, the textiles were not designed for use as domestic floor coverings. They were usually made with relatively dry wool and fairly large knotting with multiple cotton wefts. The fine sand carried from great distances by desert storms would have given the weavings a short life if exposed to normal wear on the floor.

Like other products of the oasis cities, the textiles were more often made to order for local sale and especially for trading purposes. Many were designed as meaningful visual art to be displayed by eventual owners as tapestries or wall hangings in public and private spaces. In their origins, some designs were clearly motivated by ritual and religious concerns. Narrow carpets with no side borders in their designs were produced to cover wood and stone pillars in the numerous Buddhist monasteries of Tibet and northwest China.

Among East Turkestan textile patterns, the most famous is the vase and pomegranate design. Usually attributed to Khotan but made throughout the region, it is also the most easily recognizable. Representing hopes for fertility through its many seeds and expressing desires for renewal of nature’s abundance, one or more beautiful pomegranate trees are shown heavy with mature fruit. The initial impression made by the carefully balanced pattern is an abstract formal design requiring little interpretation. With patient attention, this first reaction may be replaced by a more complicated response.

In most examples of this conservative design, the tree grows from an improbably small vase which may be intended as an effective reminder of human presence. Other interpretations are equally possible. Despite its small proportions in the design, some believe the vase form is intended to symbolize the nurturing earth, the container from which life emerges. Like the pomegranate tree, materials for the vase emerged from the earth to be transformed by practised human hands. Alternatively, the vase may represent the unseen creative force which is the source and support of all life.

In pre-Islamic times, the pomegranate was associated in Central Asia and the Middle East with the Zoroastrian goddess Anahita who personified fertility and the generative powers of water. In an early Bible reference, the pomegranate is one of the fruits of the promised land of Israel. Some have suggested it was the forbidden fruit of the tree of knowledge in the Garden of Eden. From the Quran, we know that pomegranates like figs and dates are one of the cherished fruits that believers will find in paradise. In Chinese popular culture, pomegranates have been served traditionally at wedding celebrations for ritual and symbolic reasons that seem apparent.

A significant detail in the East Turkestan design may be interpreted as another sign of human presence and creative activity. The branches of the upward-growing pomegranate tree appear to have been pruned and grafted repeatedly. Weak or dying branches have been carefully removed at the correct times to maintain the health of the tree and allow new life to begin. This nurturing will ideally be rewarded in the same season and following years by continued growth with new blossoms and more fruit.

Considering another possibility, the vulnerable branches may have been broken by being damaged in repeated storms. They have then been repaired by skilled human hands. Both metaphorical interpretations communicate the core meaning of the renewal and continuation of life. The designs suggest an inheritance from the past has been preserved and a promise made to the future has been kept. This symbolic meaning is reinforced by the continued existence through time of the textile itself.

Whatever the original motivations of designers and weavers and considering the possibility of additional meanings acquired over time, the predominant themes of personal and cultural survival through all adversities have been preserved. From a different viewpoint, the theme expressed is the existence of an unconquerable life force. Human interventions should be sensitively timed to cooperate with and enhance this omnipresent force. From these images, we relearn the crucial lesson that natural and human forces may be combined. With this interpretation, the textile designs come to be understood as spiritually motivated.

The images are meaningful in every culture since they reflect fundamental beliefs in a concealed creative power beyond human comprehension. The designs motivate sensitive viewers to transcend usual perceptions of present reality. They are quietly encouraged to look past tranquil surfaces and normal routines of daily existence. They may then perceive how vase and pomegranate patterns attempt to make visible the universal force that underlies every experience and activity.

From the few details of the design, we observe a simple message. The pomegranate tree survives and flourishes when given attentive nurturing by human and divine hands. This transforming observation should not be confined to the regeneration of pomegranate trees. There seems to be a communication of a more general understanding that reaches beyond the image presented. The primary theme of care and guided renewal extends to include the many productive forms of plant life found everywhere in nature.

All forms of life have the capacity to renew themselves and continue to grow faithfully toward light and the sky. Modest resources of water, sun and soil combined with sympathetic human assistance will overcome any temporary adversities. In a deeper cultural understanding, there is an obvious metaphorical comparison made in the vase and pomegranate designs. Creating an imaginative connection to universal human experiences, they model the desire to endure all difficulties and find ways to overcome them.

Contemplating the intriguing patterns over time and discovering more about the social contexts of their creation bring to mind themes of birth, life and death. For willing observers, the designs do more than create a detached mood and pleasant sensations of abstract beauty. Their ambition to communicate meanings is only barely concealed by their conventional formal structure. They are better seen as poignant reminders of human presence and identity. The textiles express a fundamental message about the place of mankind in the natural world. They present an emotional vision of the cycles of growth and decay that characterize all life.

The fragile textile form already embodies this theme of decay and renewal. Recalling its creation from simple materials, we are reminded of its periodic requirements for small and major repairs. Whatever its present condition, viewers have some awareness of the original state and finite life span of the art object. The textile and the pomegranate tree share a primary quality. The time will come when there will be a need for their complete renewal by replacement.

This implied task of renewal and eventual replacement in the design recognizes a social obligation. Responsive viewers are being encouraged to contribute to the support and renewal of the positive qualities of the private and public domains. Without drawing explicit attention to this defining requirement of every coherent human culture, the continued existence of the art object is a simple reminder of this obligation. To the extent possible, the temporary possession of a valued cultural form should be accompanied by the willing acceptance of this primary responsibility to continue the chain of creation.

A treasured textile nearing the end of its useful life may be replaced by a copy or near copy. When made with sincere motivations and cultural awareness combined with technical accuracy, the copy carries the personal and social meanings associated with the original. In traditional cultures, respect for traditions and faithfulness of expression have been more valued than the recent Western concept of conspicuous originality in art. In a profound metaphor relating the static forms of art to the dynamic patterns of lived experiences, families and communities find ways to enact these more permanent values.

In their essential natures, textiles are like pomegranate trees. Both created forms have a finite life, but one that may be extended through good fortune, timely care and final replacement. Making another imaginative connection between outer form and inner content, viewers should recall the social circumstances prevailing during the creation of these textiles. To say the least, the turbulent history of all regions of Central Asia has known many succeeding periods of creation and destruction.

In times past, there were undoubtedly many motivations for repeatedly exploring what had become conventional vase and pomegranate designs. Beyond commercial motivations, there were other competing and cooperating influences contributing to the making of these objects. To an undetermined extent, the designs were recreated and reinterpreted over long periods in response to vital human concerns.

Most meaningfully for present purposes, the patterns communicate a powerful concealed message from the designers and weavers. By implicit visual means, these patterns act on the imagination. With patient attention, we may rediscover the shared emotions and common cultural meanings expressed in these old textile designs. To viewers susceptible to metaphorical communication, the designs present an idealized vision of pomegranate trees that may provide a model for human behaviour.

Reaching beyond the limitations of their medium of expression, the images quietly bring to mind an important truth. In a concise way, they suggest we will always have the ability to relearn and preserve the essential things of human life. The designs communicate an implicit message to responsive viewers. They suggest that a necessary re-education of the imagination may come from equally close observation of two very different domains, the dual worlds of inner feelings and external experiences.

We have already traveled some distance from usual approaches to East Turkestan textiles. Studies have tended to emphasize problems of identification and dating, analysis of technical details of weaving or appreciation of aesthetic and decorative values. Learning to read the designs as meaningful art forms, they become seen as expressions of central philosophical themes and moral concerns of the originating cultures.

One goal should be to recapture the cultural logic that led to the creation of these images. Sympathetic understanding is created in a continuous interplay between images and reality, between context and content, and between observers and observed. Repeated human interactions with historical, religious and natural forces are implied within the vase and pomegranate design. This memorable example provides viewers with a general model from what occurs during their prolonged interaction with the designs.

As with all challenging art forms, individual responses may not be foreseeable. There is a repeated experience of changeable interpretations and even reversals of meaning. This is a multidimensional experience oscillating between objective and subjective understandings, between detachment and involvement, and between the domains of reality and imagination. By learning to value these designs, connections are opened between the variable concerns of the moment and those that are timeless and unchanging.

The emotions and meanings communicated will often be very direct and simple. In other circumstances, they will be general and abstract with more elusive interpretations. A constantly shifting balance is created in the observer’s responses between emotional involvement and intellectual comprehension. On this journey to a common understanding, some meanings are learned from the insights of others. Meanings that are more personally significant we may discover for ourselves.

What is the essence of the Khotan vase and pomegranate designs? How do they bring natural and social forces into focus? At the times external resources become available, the faithful trees respond according to their inner natures by producing new growth and more fruit. Given modest opportunities and human intervention when needed, pomegranate trees reach beyond themselves in the direction of the source of light. Their abundant seeds are reminders of the continuation of life.

By their nature, real pomegranate trees are visible and tangible displays of both change and permanence. They effortlessly bring to mind profound thoughts of present and future, temporal and eternal. Our caring for them will be returned and rewarded by their caring for us. A visible pattern abstracted by unknown designers and weavers from an ordinary image came to express a shared vision of the external natural world. Beginning with direct experiences and observations, they translated this understanding into the forms of memorable textile designs.

Anonymous artists and artisans of past centuries were motivated to bring into being a cultural meeting place uniting their outer and inner experiences. Out of ordinary materials, they created a symbolic focus for universal concerns commonly expressed in social rituals and religion. Their creations now invite others to participate in their perceptions and understandings. What more can be said about the inner nature of the designs, the invisible patterns which contribute to their communication of human emotions and meanings? What active responses were the designs intended to evoke?

  

2. Two Travelers

Although it has always been difficult for travelers to reach until very recent times, East Turkestan may be found quite easily on any detailed map of the world. The small city Khotan is very nearly halfway between London and Tokyo. The entire region of the oasis cities is located near the midpoints between the Mediterranean and the Pacific coast of China and between the shores of the Arctic and Indian Oceans.

Despite its inaccessibility from Europe and inner China except to strongly motivated traders, followers of determined conquerors and the most fortunate travelers, East Turkestan has been closely linked to some of the great currents of world history. In fact, this natural meeting place of many different cultures had some rights in past centuries to be considered the geographical center of the known world.

Given a territory bounded by China and Mongolia to the east, Turkestan and Iran to the west, and Tibet and India immediately to the south, an interesting history with constant challenges was guaranteed. Willingly or not, the region was unusually open to outside influences and as a result played an essential intermediary role on the world stage. Changeable powers and interconnecting influences in surrounding countries and peoples repeatedly affected all aspects of life in East Turkestan. They certainly produced great changes in textile designs and other forms of creative expression.

Looking more closely at one of these major influences, the world-changing effects of the ruthless conquests of Genghis Khan (d.1227) in the early thirteenth century should not be forgotten. By the end of the thirteenth century, Mongol rule extended over the largest contiguous land empire in history. At its greatest extent, the powerful new empire reached into Southern Asia and Eastern Europe.

The best known contemporary European witness of these historical developments near their origins in Asia was Marco Polo (1254-1324). During his famous travels, he passed relatively uneventfully through Kashgar, Yarkand and Khotan on the lengthy route from Europe to China. His principal destination was the capital Khan-balik (now Beijing) of the great empire Cathay then ruled by Kublai Khan, the grandson of Genghis Khan.

Marco Polo had been tempted by the opportunity to accompany his father Niccolo and uncle Maffeo on their adventures in the little known eastern lands. They were already uniquely experienced as travelers and traders from Italy in that remote part of the world. By perseverance and considerable good fortune, they had survived the hazards of travel through unknown regions and managed to return from an earlier expedition to the center of the new Mongol empire.

Beginning at age seventeen from his home city Venice in 1271, the initial motivations for Marco Polo’s long journey may have been primarily the prospect of adventure together with the uncertain possibility of commercial rewards. They became considerably more complicated as the novice explorer matured when he went through a lengthy succession of transforming experiences. Marco Polo would not return to Venice until more than twenty-four years had passed. They were all to be years of continuous exploration and surprising discoveries.

Their legendary travels through the Middle East, Central Asia and China were made possible by the long period of relative peace and prosperity following the devastating Mongol conquests six decades before. Nicolo and Maffeo carried the gold tablet granted years before by the Khan to enable their safe return to his domains. Gold and silver tablets were the unique passports introduced decades before by Genghis Khan. A traveler’s possession of one of these tablets provided free passage and all forms of assistance through every part of Mongol territory.

The adventurers followed the more difficult mountain route from the south through what is now modern Afghanistan. There they discovered the unique source of lapis lazuli whose origin had been previously unknown to Europeans. When traded via the Silk Road to distant Europe, this rarest of minerals produced a brilliant ultramarine dye and pigment highly valued in contemporary religious paintings. Marco Polo and his companion then entered the relative ease and safety of East Turkestan. They admired the flourishing estates and fruitful soil in Kashgar which seemed to produce in great abundance everything needed to sustain life.

The young explorer observed that numerous merchants based in the region of Kashgar regularly set out to market their wares all over the world. Marco noted the atmosphere of tolerance that prevailed. This was indicated by the presence of Christian and other minority communities living peacefully among the majority Tartar (Turkic) Islamic population. Describing his similar experiences in the city and region of Khotan, he wrote, “It is amply stocked with the means of life. It has vineyards and orchards in plenty. The people live by trade and industry, and are not at all war-like.”

There was an earlier traveler to the region whose journeys are much better remembered today in China and India. In 629, the prominent Buddhist monk Hsuan Tsang (Xuan Zang) set out secretly and alone from the ancient capital Chang-an (now Xian). Like Marco Polo, he traveled during a period of great changes. Adding considerably to the risks of his journey, it was undertaken at a dangerous time of political upheaval and military expansion accompanying the beginning of the Tang dynasty (618-907). Decades of ruthless conspiracies, shifting alliances and military conflicts were required before the new regime’s supremacy was established in all parts of the empire.

During this unsettled period, all travel outside the boundaries of China had been strictly forbidden for the subjects of the new dynasty. Risking everything, Hsuan Tsang decided to ignore the imperial decree. Acting in the service of a greater ambition, he willingly accepted the hardships of solitary travel across great deserts and some of the highest mountain ranges in the world. Dissatisfied with the Buddhist resources and teaching then available in China, the earnest monk’s unwavering aim was to reach the oldest centers of learning in India. His plan was to live there for a long period in order to learn the languages and study the authentic religious texts which he believed would be found near the original sources of Buddhism.

Having successfully completed his self-assigned task, Hsuan Tsang passed briefly through Kashgar and Yarkand on the difficult return journey in 644 and 645. He then spent eight months in the small kingdom Kustana (later Khotan) which still maintained some independence from direct Tang rule. In that period, Kustana was an important center for the Buddhist religion with nearly one hundred monasteries and five thousand priests. There the monk continued his studies and translations while waiting anxiously for signs of forgiveness and reconciliation from the Tang emperor.

Despite his long absence from China, Hsuan Tsang was fully aware that he needed to receive official permission before re-entering the country with the many hundreds of books he had collected. Now that he had become well known for his courageous exploits in traveling to India, a more direct approach to this present difficulty was required. There was no longer any possibility to return unnoticed to China in the stealthy way he had left years before.

With unaccustomed leisure time in the temporary refuge of Kustana with its unique Indo-Persian Buddhist culture, the traveler helped to pass the interval by describing the small kingdom diplomatically in his journal. For future readers, he wrote a concise summary of the natural and human environments: “The climate is temperate, and the common people understand politeness and right principles.” With evident approval, he observed that the people of Khotan loved to study literature and pursue the arts. This social interest in high cultural expression included especially the different forms of music for which the country was renowned.

Showing once more his all-embracing curiosity and perhaps hoping to gain the future interest of the emperor, Hsuan Tsang also wrote about locally available resources which could be commercially exploited by a wise ruler. He found the available land suitable for cultivation, describing it as producing an abundance of fruits. Like Marco Polo centuries later, he noted the rich deposits of white and green jade which provided another basis for Kustana’s long-term prosperity. Of interest for future textile studies, he also described the manufacture of carpets and finely woven silk fabrics in both Kashgar and Khotan.

During his stay, Hsuan Tsang would have heard confused reports about great disruptions taking place far to the west. They were caused by the rise and sudden expansion of a new religion originating in the Arabian Peninsula. This potentially world-changing event had happened a few decades before. He would have learned potentially ominous news from conflicting accounts of disappointed merchants, anxious travelers and despairing refugees. Not for the first time or the last, completely new forces threatened to produce the most far-reaching changes. After years of confused rumours, the unsettling forces becoming visible on the horizon could no longer be ignored.

Less than four years before Hsuan Tsang’s arrival in Khotan, some ardent followers of the unknown faith had upset forever the established order in a neighbouring part of the world. Combining their religiously-inspired zeal with unconventional martial skills, they had defeated and overthrown the centuries-old Sassanian dynasty (224-641) in Iran. The new rulers were in the process of forcefully displacing the dominant role of the Zoroastrian religion long identified with Iranian culture and imperial rule.

There would soon be unpredictable consequences for the immediate and long-term religious, political and commercial interests of Kustana and the western regions of China. As would be repeated in the Mongol conquests centuries later, everything in the local way of life would be challenged and possibly destroyed. Throughout Central Asia in the ominous year 645, it was becoming increasingly apparent that the entire known world was on the threshold of changing again.

Because of their strategic location on an essential trade route, the fates of Khotan, Yarkand and Kashgar in all historical periods would never be entirely in their own hands. Unable to support large populations from local resources and without natural geographical defences, the region was permanently caught between the overwhelming powers of unpredictable military, economic and religious forces from distant lands in the East and West, North and South. Until modern times, its cultural forms including visual art and textile designs would reflect the unchangeable facts of geography and the frequent transforming effects of the unpredictable events of world history.

The patient determination of Hsuan Tsang over seventeen years of arduous traveling and study was to be amply rewarded by the emperor. Not only was he allowed to return to China from Khotan without penalties, a sizeable imperial escort was provided to ensure his safety and guard the prized possessions he had accumulated during his travels. In the capital Xian, his remaining apprehensions were soon overcome when he was received warmly at the imperial court.

He showed his independent spirit once again by declining an offer to become one of the closest advisers to the emperor. With the ruler’s encouragement and financial support, Hsuan Tsang founded instead a monastery near Xian which was dedicated to deepening the understanding of Buddhism.  There he devoted the last years of his life to training new monks and overseeing the laborious task of translating the old religious texts he had brought from India.

The final words of Hsuan Tsang in 664 were recorded by his followers: “Unreality is unreal.” These cryptic words seem to have been intended to summarize his unusual life experiences. They also served to reconcile those direct experiences with his deepest religious beliefs. Like much of Buddhist philosophy, they combine the opposite qualities of bare simplicity and baffling complexity.

We may ponder whether the last words of Hsuan Tsang say anything about the nature of reality. Their seeming contradictions are a test of the outermost limits of language and comprehension. In one interpretation, the words call for a heightened awareness of the actual conditions of existence. Comparable to the way of life chosen by the famous pilgrim, the three words seem to encourage a full mental and bodily response to reality.

The enigmatic proverb is experienced in the same way as an incompletely understood work of art. Like Hsuan Tsang’s long-delayed return to China, it recommends a return to the real in preference to remaining forever in the attractive illusions of imagined domains. Whatever the final interpretations, the three words represent a challenge from a great discoverer and philosopher in the seventh century to our more limited understanding in the twenty-first.

  

3. Influences and Identifications

Despite being isolated by great deserts to the north and east and almost impassable mountain ranges to the south and west, the three cities near the present western boundaries of China survived for more than two millennia as international centers of culture and trade. During more tranquil periods, they frequently prospered. The enduring constructive patterns of trade in commodities, social customs and ideas would prove to be as durable as the competing patterns of dislocation and destruction caused by recurring social divisions, wars and conquests.

In other ways and at other times, Kashgar, Yarkand and Khotan remained safely isolated by distance and the natural barriers of deserts and mountain ranges. There were long periods when the surrounding countries intruded less forcefully because they were distracted and weakened by wars and internal conflicts. The oasis cities then depended mainly on their own considerable human and natural resources. During these intervals, the local cultures of East Turkestan could develop relatively independently in more tolerant ways. Over the centuries, these ever-changing factors resulted in a resilient Central Asian culture that proved able to reflect and assimilate many external sources.

Some reminders of these internal and outside influences may now be found displayed in intricate combinations in the remaining textiles and visual art that have survived a turbulent history and the inevitable damages of time. The complex symbolism evidently present in many East Turkestan textile designs is derived from many co-existing influences including Indian and Tibetan Buddhism, Chinese philosophy (Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism), Central Asian and Mongolian animism or shamanism, Islam and other religious sources as well as regional folk beliefs.

The detailed interweaving of diverse cultural expressions and the transforming effects of dramatic historical periods are echoed in these compelling designs However, these influences remain to be adequately understood. Even precise dating and presumed local origins of Central Asian textiles are controversial. Judgments have been based on the limited numbers of published examples or on textiles available for detailed study in public and private collections. Presently-accepted classifications will undoubtedly be subject to modifications with further research and discoveries.

Adding to these difficulties, many old rugs and carpets from the weaving centers of East Turkestan have been identified in the carpet trade as originating in the larger cities Samarqand or Bokhara. This geographical error in attributions is understandable in historical terms. The great majority of East Turkestan textiles traded to destinations in the Middle East and West passed through these major commercial and cultural centers. This occurred increasingly after the two cities came to world prominence in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries when they were embellished with some of the boundless wealth gained by the conqueror Timur and his successors.

Similar errors of identification have been made in assigning particular nineteenth and twentieth century weavings to one of the three major centers Khotan, Yarkand and Kashgar. In the absence of definite evidence, it has been customary in carpet studies to attribute finer weavings to Khotan which did have the largest share of textile production. Other authorities prefer to nominate the larger city Kashgar which was wealthier during most historical periods and more subject to foreign influences. Still less helpful, the description Khotan has been commonly used in Western countries until recent decades as a trade term to refer to all East Turkestan carpets.

Since Yarkand is located midway between the two cities, it is available as a convenient compromise in any disputes between Kashgar and Khotan attributions. In the carpet literature, there has been little agreement on particular differences in materials and weaving techniques beyond general observations such as the preference in Yarkand for weavings with more vivid and contrasting dyes and the use of thicker wefts often in light-blue cotton.

Many memorable East Turkestan designs from Kashgar and Yarkand reflect more closely the dominant Turkic heritage of the region. They share the bolder linear geometries and stronger colours that have been characteristic of the great majority of West Turkestan textiles. Some designs made in East Turkestan were primarily intended as trade items to satisfy the traditional preferences of the wider regions of Central Asia This is another indication that current distinctions of the historical weavings of the Turkoman, Uzbek, Kazakh and Kirghiz peoples further to the west and the Tibetan people to the south from the productions of the majority Uighur group in East Turkestan are sometimes difficult to maintain.

The detailed scholarly classifications by origins, dating, materials, knotting techniques and evolution of designs that have proved to be elusive may not have been as meaningful in past centuries. We should remember the historical discontinuities produced by wars of conquest, lethal epidemics and the disrupting effects of unpredictable patterns of population movements. Throughout the region over many centuries, there were always new arrivals with different cultural expectations. As a consequence of these repeated dislocations and the more regular patterns of trading activities, there was a continual interchange of designs and techniques in all periods.

To add another complicating factor, commercial weaving activities and trading in textiles may not always have reflected closely the cultures and preoccupations of the local majority communities. Instead, they were often a source of employment for some of the minority ethnic and religious groups who were widely dispersed in the scattered populated regions of Central Asia. Differing regional characteristics of textile production in wool preparation, dye materials and weaving techniques provided an important means of self-identification for these minority groups

The lack of detailed knowledge of the production of these textiles and their designs is not only a recent phenomenon. It is reasonable to assume that traders following slow-moving camel caravans along parts of the ancient Silk Road in former times may themselves have had little reliable knowledge of the exact origins and ages of their wares. This would have become increasingly true after the textiles had passed through several hands on their long journeys to unknown destinations in distant lands.

In past centuries and even more recently, the merchants of woven goods in the towns and cities on the route very probably had sufficient commercial incentives to alter the descriptions of their goods and improve their presumed provenances. Responding to market requirements, the ages of their offerings may have been exaggerated or in other cases minimized. Following time-honoured practices in merchandising valuable textiles, various alterations and improvements would have been made by flexible merchants to satisfy current preferences of potential clients.

Other ambiguities in interpretation come from the significant role of these textiles as cultural meeting places where different personal and social visions came into focus. Through this medium of expression, the ideals and practical concerns of widely separated originating and receiving communities encountered each other. In those forgotten encounters, some temporary or lasting compromises were reached between different commercial and cultural traditions.

Historical conflicts and social changes necessarily found practical and symbolic expressions in changing cultural forms. For all these reasons, we must accept the prospect that many of our questions will forever remain unanswered. The failure to identify with any precision some of the important technical details of the creation of these textiles is unfortunate. However, it presents new viewers with some advantages.

Turning a negative into a positive, they encounter this unfamiliar form of art in a relatively unmediated way. Initially, viewers experience these textiles and images with their resources of sympathy and understanding. This way of response is very similar to that of most viewers at the times the textiles were created. If we admit the failure to identify some defining objective qualities of the designs, it does not necessarily follow that there will be a corresponding failure to subjectively identify with them.

Whatever the remaining uncertainties in producing systematic classifications, we should not be deflected from our more primary goal. This will be to find ways to bring to conscious awareness the social contexts and the meaningful themes that we imagine have found sincere and eloquent expressions in the historical textile designs of East Turkestan and western China. Perhaps tentatively at first, we should be willing to go beyond any detached or impersonal understandings. The final goal will be to gain a personally meaningful, sympathetic appreciation of a significant art form.

With the limited means available, we seek to participate in a different method of communication. The challenging goal of our journey is to take part in a meaningful conversation with an unfamiliar culture now separated from the contemporary world by great intervals of space and time. To generate a genuine participating response and join the timeless conversation in culturally meaningful ways, the first aim is to make possible a personal identification with the underlying individual concerns and social motivations that influenced the making of these textiles.

4. Kansu, Ninghshia and Paotou

East Turkestan carpets and tapestries were also traded in the eastward direction to the Chinese market. Until recent decades, they were generally identified commercially as Kansu weavings. Also known for textile production, the region Kansu (now Gansu) is the large province located immediately east of East Turkestan (Xinjiang) along the Silk Road into China. Wool needed for an indigenous weaving industry was obtainable from sources close at hand in Kansu province. It was supplied to the town weavers by merchants trading with nomadic peoples of the semi-arid region who followed a traditional way of life centered on raising sheep and breeding horses.

The great numbers of textiles from East Turkestan that found their way to markets in the distant cities of inner China were sometimes misidentified there as having originated in the areas of Ninghshia or Paotou. The city Ninghshia (modern Ningxia) is just beyond the historic Great Wall on the ancient northern border of China. The city Paotou (now Baotou) is the capital of Suiyan province, located further east in Inner Mongolia and north of the Great Wall. During the Ming dynasty (1368-1644) and the following Ching dynasty (1644-1912), Ninghshia and Paotou became well known as significant centers of textile manufacture and related trading activities.

In the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the word Ninghshia took on a secondary meaning in the carpet trade when it became widely misused as a more general descriptive term. There was widespread recognition of the generally superior qualities of Ninghshia textiles in every aspect of weaving standards including wool quality and designs. As a result, the term was commonly applied by traders and merchants to any better quality Chinese rugs whatever their exact origins may have been. This was especially the case when rugs and tapestries from other locations were later exported in considerable quantities to foreign markets.

Beyond the obvious commercial motivations of production and trade, there was another important link in these regions to the weaving activities of Kashgar, Yarkand and Khotan that should be remembered. Well into the modern period, many of the weavers and textile merchants in the province of Kansu and the regions of Ninghshia and Paotou of Inner Mongolia remained strongly influenced by their common inheritance of some forms of the Islamic faith.

They belonged to an old Chinese Muslim community of considerable size and influence with diverse Persian-Arabic-Turkic cultural roots. Widely dispersed throughout northern and western China, this has been a self-defined community notably engaged as traders, merchants and small manufacturers, and these diverse activities have continued until recent times. As one consequence, there has been a long history of connections of this group with the people and textile traditions of the oasis cities of East Turkestan.

With many interruptions due to historical dislocations, some of these distant connections have been periodically renewed and maintained over more than ten centuries. Although they would now be difficult to reconstruct in precise historical detail, these important links in every geographical direction came about in all periods through shared religious influences and recurring population movements as well as through the better known trading activities.

As a result, possibilities have remained open in most periods of the last millennium for meaningful contacts and exchanges between like-minded peoples. Until well into the twentieth century, the slow-moving camel caravans along the Silk Road carried with them much more than trade goods. In variable proportions, these significant historical factors may account for the direct and indirect interchanges of designs and techniques of weaving that have occurred between these geographically remote regions long before recent centuries.

There are some clear depictions of pile-knotted wool rugs in Chinese paintings which date from as early as the Sung dynasty (960-1279). Significantly, the known examples show designs that appear to be of Mongol or Turkestan origin. There are few other historical indications of a purely indigenous Chinese wool carpet production. This lack of strong evidence for Chinese-made wool rugs or tapestries produced in any substantial quantity before the extensive commercial activity which began in the nineteenth century requires some explanation.

The puzzling absence of a substantial wool rug tradition relates in the first instance to the understandable rarity of sheep-raising in the traditional practices of Chinese agriculture. For understandable reasons, the extensive grazing land and open migration routes required were not available. In addition, wool textiles were not favoured as meaningful decoration at the highest social levels since they were not generally considered as fine art. Counting strongly against them, they did not have the intricate craftsmanship, the aesthetic perfection and intellectual interest, or the precious materials that have been more valued in the major forms of Chinese art.

Beyond these factors, the rarity of wool rugs and tapestries was due to another major reason which may not occur immediately to Western observers. This neglect was at least partly a reflection of a strong traditional bias against wool and its symbolic associations in the majority culture of inner China. In times past, there was a widespread aversion at higher social levels to clothing and other textiles made from wool fabrics. Until relatively recent times, the use of wool textiles had strong negative associations in China.

Among cultural leaders, wool was far from being thought of as a precious material suitable for personal use or as a medium for high artistic expression. It was usually considered to be a foreign material which was inseparably connected in the popular imagination with the unattractive customs of unsettled and supposedly uncivilized peoples. To oversimplify greatly, it may be said that the Great Wall was constructed to keep out the uncontrollable sheep-raising people who lived to the north and west.

For good historical reasons and as a governing ideal of social behaviour, classical Chinese culture has always valued the peacefulness and predictability of a stable and harmonious way of life. According to the common Chinese viewpoint in that historical period, their inscrutable neighbours living somewhere beyond the Great Wall followed a mostly barbarous and war-like way of life. All too frequently and often without warning, brief incursions and long-lasting invasions of the wool-using peoples had produced devastating consequences for the sedentary and cultivated populations of northern China.

Eventually overcoming cultural resistance deriving from this disparaging view of wool fabrics, great numbers of wool tapestries with representational designs were made in Ninghshia and Paotou and also in Kansu and East Turkestan beginning in the nineteenth century. They departed from non-representational design traditions for an elementary reason. They were produced initially to meet new demands of a sizeable Chinese market and later in the century to satisfy growing demand from European traders and manufacturers.

For understandable historical reasons, this commercial activity happened with substantially increased volume in East Turkestan after about 1875. There had been several decades of social unrest and rebellion against the central authority during a prolonged period of weakness partly due to the military interventions of European powers in China. For a brief time, a rebel leader with oversized ambitions had seized power in the region. With little success, he attempted to gain international recognition for a new country Kashgaria.

Old trading patterns were quickly resumed and new textile enterprises begun when central Chinese government control was re-established in the different areas of the remote territory. The new aniline dyes traded from Europe were introduced at about the same time and they gradually displaced traditional plant dyes. This was another indication of the significant changes that were occurring. The new influences from outside the region in the last decades of the nineteenth century also help to date some of the later textiles with greater certainty.

Fortunately for present purposes, the intended meanings of the pictorial textile patterns produced in substantial quantities are relatively easy to interpret. This is despite familiar unresolved problems of precise dating and exact origins. It is understandable that designers and weavers of East Turkestan, Kansu, Ninghshia and Paotou worked with one constraining influence in mind. For compelling commercial reasons, they endeavoured to meet the strong preferences of distant clients. To achieve this in the new medium of tapestries with pictorial designs, they followed time-honoured practices and conventional themes from older mural and scroll paintings. The designers adopted the literal methods of symbolic communication characteristic of Chinese visual art.

 

5. Symbolic Language

 

Following long-established cultural conventions for pictorial representations, the visual images and motifs found in East Turkestan and western Chinese rugs and tapestries can almost always be assumed to have a double significance. They were intended to be appreciated not only for their obvious aesthetic and decorative values but equally as meaningful “words” in an elaborate symbolic language. With some basic cultural knowledge, these representational textile designs can be read as texts.

Birds, animals, flowers, trees, vases and many other objects interact visually and also conceptually as symbols. Elementary examples of this older way of communicating ideas and emotions are the images of storks, cranes and pine trees that appear frequently in textile patterns. They certainly have aesthetically pleasing forms individually and as components of carefully balanced compositions. However, their creators intended to convey definite meanings and mental associations. In the contexts of Chinese literary and visual culture, these images are traditional symbols of long life.

To focus on one significant example, pine trees were a frequently occurring visual theme in these woven pictorial designs. In the Chinese imagination, they possessed admirable qualities which were almost human. They were admired for their ability to endure difficult conditions. In many tapestries, pine trees are conventionally shown growing out of steep hillsides or from rocky ground. Their twisted irregular shapes have been acquired over long periods of time in response to adversities.

These distortions are purposeful departures from aesthetic ideals of symmetry and balance which are clearly intended to convey important meanings. They are to be understood as expressions of the true strength and beauty of the trees. Like bamboo plants which provide another subject commonly depicted in visual art, pine trees remain faithfully green in winter. They may bend in response to powerful winds and even lose some branches, but the great pine trees could outlast the hostility of the elements.

Although the trees may later show the marks of their struggles through their twisted shapes, they would accept their fate and still defiantly remain standing after the strongest storms. Within the conventions of Chinese visual communication, this should be understood as an unspoken metaphor for human resilience in adverse conditions. Whatever the dangers, the pine trees and bamboo plants have the inner fortitude to not completely break. With strong connections to the soil that nourished them, they do not become uprooted suddenly and fall to the ground.

In this highly developed visual language, the lotus flower is a conventional symbol for purity and the chrysanthemum represents longevity. The generous peony in full bloom brings to mind dignity, wealth and love. In contrast, the withered peony which has lost its scent expresses the less desired state of poverty.

The image of the flying bat fu denotes prosperity for an elementary reason. The written character for prosperity is pronounced the same way as the character that denotes bat. Among many symbols taken from the natural world of animals and plants, the deer lu is popular in visual art for a similar reason. The sound of the word suggests the welcome possibility of official recognition and rewards.

The infinite luck knot is a self-sufficient interwoven image where every part is visibly connected to every other part. Bringing to mind ideals of balance and complete self-knowledge, this familiar image in textile designs is to be interpreted as a sign of perfect happiness. The tying and display of very intricate knots in recognized patterns was a highly developed skill and form of art in traditional Chinese culture. It provided another method of symbolic visual communication

The swastika wan is the character for ten thousand which may stand for any very large indefinite number. For this reason, a repeated wan border had a universally recognized meaning. By playful exaggeration, it conveyed the idea of abundant happiness. To this way of thinking, the surrounding presence of many swastikas in the border pattern of a textile served to magnify the auspicious meanings of the main design.

Its ancient pictorial system of writing gives the Chinese language expressive advantages which have been carried over into visual art. Young children learn that abstract ideas may be conveyed by simple images. Single or combined, these images have over time acquired conventional interpretations, meaningful associations and metaphorical meanings. Following the example provided by the original formation of the characters of the written language and their gradual evolution over long periods, a different way of reading all visual images became normal and expected.

The image of a plum tree has many conventional interpretations in Chinese visual art. This cherished tree is the first to blossom at winter’s end which may happen even when snow is still on the ground. Plum trees in full blossom symbolize the renewal of life and return of joy after a time of adversity. In this imaginative way of creating connections, it is significant that the word mei for plum is a homonym of the word for spring.

The plum tree is remarkable for its quick passing through all stages of budding, flowering and setting fruit. When so beautifully in flower for a brief time in early spring, its many blossoms each with five petals become poignant symbols of transience. The number five has been associated with the essence of human identity and it recalls the humanlike appearance of the character in Chinese writing that represents man. For culturally aware observers, a plum tree in blossom brings to mind a universal human theme. In this insightful way of seeing, a beautiful image shows the fleeting nature of the pleasures of life.

In different circumstances, the image of a solitary plum tree may suggest something less general and more specific. In Chinese visual culture, a plum tree standing in isolation could represent a neglected scholar, an unappreciated artist or an unrecognized government official. Despite his great efforts, he failed to find a suitable position or win the support of a generous patron. As a consequence, he has finally abandoned what had become an unrewarding and unsatisfying life in the city.

Perhaps reluctantly, the disappointed scholar, artist or public servant returned to a more peaceful life. Unless his merits gain belated recognition, his remaining years will be spent in quiet contemplation of the human and natural worlds. After a prolonged period of difficulties, he has found a place of physical refuge and true mental solace in nature. The plum tree standing in proud isolation has acquired a definite symbolic meaning as a poignant representation of his fate.

A visual image may reveal what cannot easily be spoken directly. In the case of the plum tree, it may show the final acceptance by an individual of his unfortunate fate. At the same time, the image implies a balancing rediscovery of the consolations to be found in the natural world. The plum tree shows resilience and vital force by blossoming in the adversity of late winter. As suggested here, an image may hint at delicate themes such as personal pride and social injustice. This single eloquent example gives an indication of the countless ways one or more images may evoke both emotions and ideas.

Achieving a full understanding of the symbolic meanings of these representational designs will always require paying close attention to the surrounding personal and social contexts. Another example drawn from nature provides a reminder of the sometimes dramatic effects of the passing of time. The image of the budding lotus plant is intended in some circumstances to symbolize the past or perhaps to recall old memories. When the lotus is shown in full flower, it conventionally represents the vigour of life in the present time. When its flowers are shown to have withered, their symbolic meaning changes to indicate the inevitable future for all forms of life.

Red is the colour commonly associated in Chinese culture with vitality and happiness. In popular beliefs, this general association of colour and state of being becomes better defined and acquires more practical uses At times of difficulties, wearing or otherwise displaying the vivid red colour was believed to protect against evil spirits and demons. The word fu for fish has fortunate associations since it is a homonym of the word for excess or material abundance. The fish as a motif in visual art is a visual reminder that evokes the appealing concept of wealth.

Learning the extensive vocabulary of this visual language may take some time. Becoming reasonably fluent will take much longer. However, given basic comprehension of conventions of cultural communication through accepted symbols and verbal associations, a few suggestive images have already gained the latent ability to evoke a deep response in viewers. At unexpected moments, traditional cultural meanings of symbolic images come to full awareness. As their creators intended, the designs generate a range of emotions and produce almost a complete narrative in the imagination.

Beginning with imaginative awareness, responsive viewers will have the opportunity to make this discovery for themselves. Going beyond initial feelings of detachment and the first sensory or emotional responses, observers may be troubled to find these images presenting them with a major intellectual challenge and a correspondingly large opportunity. As with other forms of art, this deeper way of responding may happen with surprising force at sensitive times of heightened awareness and greater vulnerability.

Susceptible viewers encountering this form of expression should be willing to abandon preconceptions. While learning to read the designs, they may have the disconcerting feeling that the designs are learning to read them. At times of expanded perceptiveness, the designs provide a way of commenting on and comprehending the most significant personal experiences.

  

6. Vase and Table

In Chinese scroll paintings and tapestries, there are frequent images of vases which are often shown on tables or small wooden stands. Representations of these fragile material forms are appreciated immediately for their obvious beauty. They are also admired for less evident meanings that may be more significant. When paired together, they have a precise symbolic meaning in Chinese culture which accounts for their enduring aesthetic and intellectual appeal. The words for vase and table, p’ing and an, are homonyms for different characters which convey the meanings peace and tranquility.

From this example and many others, we may already draw an important conclusion. A high level of literacy and general cultural awareness were considered to be prerequisites for the ability to interpret the intended meanings of these silent images. Ordinary literacy and something more were requirements for full visual literacy. Given this necessary common level of understanding, seeing these very recognizable forms in reality or represented in a painting or textile design would have evoked a predictable response.

In knowledgeable viewers, the vase and table create momentarily a certain mental awareness. They generate a peaceful and tranquil state of consciousness, a serenity which is an eminently desirable ideal of human existence. Beginning to act at subconscious levels, the images have a further transforming effect. Through their culturally sanctioned powers of suggestion, they quietly bring to conscious attention an appealing ideal vision of personal and community behaviour.

This creative ability to make imaginative connections within recognized social constraints was highly valued. In a more subtle way, the small vases of the familiar vase and pomegranate design so closely associated with East Turkestan weaving will gain a new interpretation. To Chinese viewers, pomegranates have traditional symbolic associations with fertility and abundance. The less prominent vase form is an unobtrusive but essential element of the design. In this cultural context, it may acquire different meanings. It may suggest the simple message that peace is the first requirement for a meaningful and abundant life.

According to the common understandings in Chinese culture, a vase with a long neck in a textile design has a definite symbolic meaning. It silently suggests hopes for a lengthy period of peace. Given the turbulent history of all regions of China over many centuries, this would certainly have been a resonant theme for the original creators of these textiles and their eventual owners.

A more rounded vase conventionally expresses satisfaction of desires or completeness of knowledge. This mental association of form and idea has a major cultural significance. In some contexts, a round-shaped vase is an intentional reference to a core Buddhist belief. The word yuan meaning “round” has been used to translate the central concept of perfection of understanding (prajna in Sanskrit). This one example is a good illustration of the difficulties the monk Hsuan Tsang and his followers encountered in the seventh century when they attempted to translate Buddhist concepts and beliefs with some accuracy into the Chinese language.

When considered as one of the “eight Buddhist treasures” in another of the many old systems of symbolic communication, the accepted significance of the vase form is the visible expression or sign of this ideal of perfect wisdom. Of course, vases of great beauty made in earthenware, stoneware and porcelain have been a principal Chinese art form for millennia. Their undeniable aesthetic beauty and obvious decorative qualities may now be seen to be inseparably combined with significant dimensions of philosophical, religious and social meaningfulness.

Independently of the visual forms, the spoken sounds or the literal meanings of words, it may be fair to note that the continued existence of a delicate vase on a beautiful table already communicates an implicit but clear social message. This is comparable to the many representational designs of other textiles showing culturally recognized symbols of prosperity and longevity. This simple composition of the two familiar elements of a vase and table points to an ideal of behaviour. Their familiar presence is experienced as a hopeful sign which acts at ordinary levels of daily life in family and community.

Without need for lengthy explanations, the vase and table communicate in a metaphorical way. They symbolize the achievement of the universal social aspiration for a prosperous and cultured life. Their normal display in a place of honour in the home has a basic ritual quality which already implicitly indicates the assimilation of central cultural traditions. At fully conscious levels, the pairing symbolizes aware acceptance of these traditions and values.

Stating what should have become apparent by now, the vase and table theme must always indicate the presence in the home of a generally peaceful and tranquil environment. We may go further to read a primary message from the complex motivations for the design. The home is to be seen ideally as a place of personal dignity and mutual respect. It is a place of care and attentiveness, a sheltering domain where there is a willing conformity to humane ideals.

Whatever the true domestic situation may have been at any particular time, the vase and table act in this meaningful symbolic way. They suggest personal surroundings that have been freed from all dangerous passions. In imagination and we may hope also in reality, no outside influences will disturb or interfere with the peacefulness of the domestic environment. As a desired ideal, all unwelcome intrusions of arbitrary judgments and unreasoned power will have been excluded from the private domain.

Plants and flowers in beautiful arrangements are added elements taken from the external environment that emphasize and amplify these desired meanings. The addition of these more natural Taoist elements softens the possible rigidity and Confucian formality of the compositions. In the silent ways of the deepest communications, the vase and table compositions found in textile designs and other visual art should finally evoke a definite response. They project to perceptive and responsive viewers these primary understandings of traditional Chinese culture.

Finding expression in a beautiful material form, the designs bring to mind the sheltering quality of the domestic environment. Their expected presence in a well-arranged home adds to the reassuring aspect of these images. In a more general way, they display an ideal of correct human behaviour at the levels of individual and community. Their tranquil and sometimes unnoticed presence communicates this fundamental message of personal identification with the essentials of civilized life. Their continued presence in the private domain testifies to the needed attitudes of attentiveness and patient caring that are required for their preservation.

It is certainly possible that a particular vase and a certain table may have defeated the hazards of time to last almost indefinitely. The small numbers that have survived unchanged for centuries visibly represent the continuity of a culture’s values. Alternatively, material objects may be lost or completely destroyed at any moment. We are reminded in this way of the dual nature of humanly created objects which is their simultaneous possession of temporal and timeless qualities.

The simplicity of the messages being communicated does not diminish their importance. We cherish the presence of beautiful objects but learn to accept their inevitable loss. Adding to this central meaning, the display of the vase and table pair occurs at one remove from physical reality. It is represented within a fragile textile which also requires human care and attention for its continued existence. This may be intended as a symbolic analogy doubling by repetition the human theme of care and replacement.

By means of the persuasive cultural logic underlying these images, we are led to recall more generally the precariousness and unpredictability of all existence. We remember that it is not only valuable material possessions that may be destroyed at any time. In an unforgettable way, we are reminded and warned that the most important values may also be lost forever in the briefest moments of carelessness.

Within the frame of this conservative philosophy and its structured way of experiencing the world, the vase and table suggest the constant need for a responsible caring for the essentials of a developed human culture. Perhaps beginning at barely conscious levels of awareness, sympathetic and knowing observers should reach the same conclusions. From this seemingly inconspicuous display of valued objects, we are encouraged to contemplate their opposite qualities of fragility and permanence.

The central cultural concern revealed by this elementary showing is nothing less than the preservation of core human values in all aspects of personal and public life. Knowing well the ease with which these material cultural forms may be broken, we have an implied duty to assume a corresponding responsibility. To participate meaningfully in this social vision, we must at all times be willing to accept the task of repairing or recreating them.

We are encouraged to remain aware of the true values of human civilization represented by the display of valued material objects. In an unforced way, the fragile vase brings into focus our scattered thoughts on the implications of human fragility at the levels of individual and community. Most significantly, we are encouraged to reach an important conclusion. We should recognize and act on opportunities to participate in the renewal of central cultural meanings.

At times of need, we should be prepared and willing to contribute to the recreation of the physical forms of valued objects. There will be occasions when this unavoidable task requires considerable sacrifices. Going beyond narrowly defined duties of care and replacement, we must participate at a wider cultural level. We must share in the preservation and renewal of the common social vision that made the creation of these significant objects possible and contributed to their symbolic meanings.

In this way of perceiving, tapestry designs do more than represent the enjoyment of a refined way of life. When they are meaningfully understood, they stand for something more significant than the contented possession of wealth and power. They are cultural signs that give symbolic form to the central obligation of humane life, the duty to contribute to its continuance. With this moral awareness, the vase unites memories of the past to active concerns in present time. Even more, the cultural form projects an ideal understanding gained by previous generations into the unknown future.

Beginning with words and images, we eventually reach a state of mind without the pressing need for further words and images. By means of a quiet display of treasured objects in an unquestioned place of honour in the domestic environment, there has been a revelation of fundamental cultural values and a reaffirmation of them. When we have reached this inner understanding, more spoken words and additional visual displays have become superfluous and unnecessary.

For elementary reasons as we have seen, the images of vases and tables in textile designs suggest immediately the concepts of peace and tranquility. However when they are more deeply understood, they encourage viewers to go beyond any conventional initial responses of detached appreciation or a merely stoic response to the many challenges and disappointments of life. We should resist the ever-present temptation to respond only passively to their evident aesthetic and decorative elements. Seemingly inert objects and images have the power to bring to mind different possibilities.

They remind us of the conditions necessary to achieve qualities of peaceful interactions and true harmony that should characterize civilized life. In doing this, the vase and table draw attention to the transcendent values of the ordinary responsibilities and small observances of family life. When their concealed message is finally revealed, the vase and table composition serves to unite the peaceful inner life of the home with the dynamic activities of the public sphere. They recall the duty to find ways to participate in the ordinary activities of the shared culture.

These meanings themselves require renewal in each generation and every individual. A familiar image presents a constant encouragement to make all necessary sacrifices and find personal means to honour shared understandings. Participants in the common culture do this by finding conventional and creative ways to rediscover core values and seek to renew them. As their primary message, displays of vase and table compositions silently indicate that the humane ideals of an all-embracing Confucian order prevail within the home and throughout the empire. When properly understood, these mute displays proclaim the values of a developed culture. They invite first quiet contemplation and then active sharing in the rituals of a social vision that unifies experiences and gives them human meanings.

 

7. Yin and Yang

 

For many centuries, the bold image of the celestial dragon lung has played a predominant role in the Chinese imaginative universe. A dramatic large-scale representation of the dragon plays a familiar role in most public celebrations of the Chinese New Year. In symbolic terms, this mythical creature is to be understood as a primary representation of all the threatening forces of nature that were far beyond ordinary human control. In popular culture, the dragon was superstitiously believed to have the abilities either to release or to tame the destructive elements of nature.

According to time-honoured folk beliefs, the celestial dragon’s powers controlled the damaging effects of water when they took the forms of great storms and floods. Of course, the fear of these devastating effects has been a constant concern throughout Chinese history. In other contexts, the dragon conveyed something more peaceful and abstract. It was frequently invoked to express the ideal of resplendent glory, particularly in the major social and ritual activities of the public domain.

Most significantly in daily experiences, the dragon image was frequently used in a more temporal way. It was a pointed reminder in Chinese culture of the great powers and unquestioned sovereignty of the Emperor. More generally, the dynamic image has been used in the many forms of literature and visual art as a resonant symbol. In these contexts, it was usually intended to express the outward aspects of national character. It brought into imaginative focus the great power whose source was the common unified identity of the Chinese people that was personified by imperial rule.

The mythical bird, the phoenix fenghuang, is imagined as a composite creature which has sometimes been conceived to be a union of the qualities of stork, crane and pheasant or peacock. In visual art, this fabulous being is seen either alone in a natural scene or frequently as the central element of a dignified composition including other female birds. In some designs, the crucial symbolic cultural role of the phoenix becomes apparent when it is displayed as a balancing image to the more forceful dragon.

A common theme of Paotou rugs with representational patterns, the image of the fenghuang has long been associated with the Empress. Like the moon in relation to the sun, she reflects some of the greater light of the Emperor. With this well known interpretation, the symbolism of the designs showing the glorious phoenix has more than an aesthetic interest. They have frequently been seen to have an important social motivation. The presence of the fenghuang in a visual image may often refer optimistically to the imagined stabilizing role of the rarely seen Empress at the imperial court and throughout the nation.

If only in imagination, the calming influence of the Empress may have been revealed during troubled times. In the same way, the rare appearances of the fantastic bird were commonly said to bring peace and happiness. It was believed to have a benign power able to balance the potential destructive forces that arise during periods of crisis and misrule. For all of these reasons, the phoenix has been used by literary and visual artists to symbolize the peaceful essence of all activities. The enticing image represented the inward aspects of Chinese character and identity.

Many pictorial designs are partly or wholly inspired by the yin-yang duality of female and male qualities. This has been a fundamental concept in the many dimensions of Chinese thought including philosophy, social practice and all forms of art. The more passive female principle yin is traditionally associated with darkness, shadows and the earth. The complementary male principle yang is associated with vigorous activity and bright light, fire and the sky. At a more abstract level, this system of beliefs suggests that every force is met with or calls into being a complementary balancing force. Every quality requires an opposite balancing quality.

There were only a few exceptions to this requirement for some degree of balance in every object and activity. The blindingly bright unchanging sun that dominates the daytime sky is said to be fully yang. The variable moon with its pale reflected light seen during the dark night is completely yin. The sky and the earth were also conceived as totally yang and yin. In this creative method of perceiving essences, all other beings and objects were believed to possess variable proportions of yin and yang qualities. Animals such as turtles and snakes pass their lives confined to the ground. For this elementary reason, they are believed to have mostly yin properties.

Through its skilful mastery of the domain of the air, the image of a bird in flight is seen as a natural yang symbol. When pairs of birds are shown in a pictorial design, the more active or flying bird represents predominantly the male aspect yang. The companion bird resting on the ground, swimming calmly in water or quietly perched on the branch of a tree is intended to be a more restful image that represents primarily the female yin quality.

Pairs of male and female fo lions made in stone have guarded public spaces and buildings or private homes for more than two millennia. They were conceived as Buddhist symbols of protection although their origins may be even older. (The word fo means Buddha.) The snarling male lions are conventionally shown with a front paw resting on a sphere. This imagery represented the ideal of complete outer awareness. It gave visual form to the desire for confident self-assertion in all aspects of life.

The strong image was a symbol of the social reinforcement and protection of shared values. It encouraged an emulation of the lion’s power to bring control and order to all aspects of outer reality. The round sphere represented the earth and the external environment. Its roundness was a quiet reference in Chinese culture to the Buddhist ideal of perfect understanding. In contrast, the front paw of the female stone lion commonly rested gently on a defenceless lion cub. This poignant symbol communicated in a natural way the nurturing and protective qualities of the maternal role.

More generally, the appealing image of mother and child represented the continuing need for protection of the essentials for the continuation of life. At a different level of understanding, the female fo lion image suggested a meaningful contrast to the externally directed male lion. There is an obvious parallel meaning in the traditional pairing of the dragon and the phoenix. In the public imagery of classical Chinese culture, the female lion was a balancing force representing the inner domain of sensitive awareness.

In many areas of the common culture, there were countless expressions to be found of the always present duality of yang and yin. The colour red was understood to represent the yang qualities of fire and vitality and the full vigour of life. It was commonly paired with the colour black representing qualities such as the coolness of night, a still body or an unperturbed mind. However, the mental and physical states of quietude or passive inactivity symbolized by the colour black implied at the same time a restful creativity which would be productive.

Other examples of this way of perceiving the dual nature of existence are not difficult to find. They are provided by the familiar vase and table form and by all other humanly created objects. To state the obvious, they have been formed by purposeful activity of human hands. Removed from the vigorous circumstances accompanying their creation, the completed objects now exist in a calm state of quiet inactivity. In the home, they serve as a focus for quiet contemplation.

A red vase may be shown resting on a black table or stand.  In an unforced way, this visual image is a reminder of a centrally important theme of Chinese thought. A comparison can be made here to the symbolic roles of female and male fo lions, another inseparable pairing. The yang goal of a peaceful vitality free of destructive consequences depends on the balancing yin value of creative tranquility. Enclosed in their true natures, each object of the vase and table pair combines the opposing yang and yin qualities of permanence and fragility. In variable proportions, this observation may be extended to describe the essential qualities of all man-made creations. They share the competing yin and yang characteristics of great endurance and complete vulnerability.

Despite its subtlety, this way of reminding viewers visually of the dangers and fragility of human existence had considerable impact. In obvious ways, it complemented the conservative rule-based character of classical Chinese culture. At the same time, it reinforced the socially accepted method of communication of multiple meanings through writing. In its ideal vision of human behaviour, the traditional culture sought creative harmony and balance in every activity.

The yin-yang system in all its complexity was a major response to these personal and social concerns. It operated at different levels ranging from modest practical insights to profound philosophical speculations. For skilled literary interpreters and creative visual artists, it became a way of describing and comprehending the essence of the external world. It reached beyond details and disagreements to grasp the unity concealed behind the confusing multiplicities and contradictions of ordinary life.

In the absence of other means, this philosophical understanding was a method of observation and analysis that gave some insights into the mysterious world of human experiences. This is the ordinary world known imperfectly through language and culture and through the limited evidence acquired from the physical senses.

While seeming at first to describe a dual world of opposing forces, the yin-yang system emphasized their connectedness and interdependence. By imagining the reconciliation of opposite qualities, a more comprehensive vision of human possibilities was created. This larger vision of lived reality resolved potential conflicts before they occurred. A unity of understanding was encouraged that repeatedly broke through the boundaries between external experiences and inner awareness.

 

8. Woven Landscapes

 

Some of the most memorable Paotou weavings were made relatively recently in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They are the unique tapestries which are often quite large showing an idealized natural world with at most a few signs of human presence. These woven landscapes with their many cultural allusions drawn from Taoism and Buddhism as well as common folk beliefs were clearly intended for a philosophically and aesthetically sophisticated clientele in the towns and cities of China.

The depictions of evocative river and forest landscapes and atmospheric country scenes seem to have been partly inspired by the more familiar scroll paintings, long-recognized in China as one of the major art forms. In these Paotou textiles, there are depictions of rugged mountains boldly rising from the earth to challenge all winds and rains. These elements of an untamed nature are intended to represent the active male yang principle.

In contrast, lakes and rivers are usually conceived very differently in these evocative images. They are shown flowing passively in obedient response to changing external forces such as winds and sloping lands. The depictions of tranquil lakes and slowly moving rivers are intended to be expressive cultural images of the complementary female yin principle.

The widely practiced feng shui system of rules and observances governed many important personal decisions. Most well known, it was used to determine the best locations and acceptable designs for a home. The phrase meaning literally wind and water provides another cultural sign of the ever-present desire to achieve a harmonious balance of nature’s forces in every activity.

Expressing this balance, a house constructed according to strict rules of Confucian order would often be completed by a more natural garden expressing Taoist philosophy. The special art was to construct these spiritually meaningful gardens with no obvious humanly-imposed pattern. To repeat a familiar idea, the art of garden design and all forms of visual art in classical Chinese culture was to conceal the art.

Landscape paintings were commonly called mountain–water pictures. This is a further indication of the primary cultural significance assigned to the familiar yin-yang duality of earth and sky. This pairing of the greatest external forces will always dominate the visible natural world. The suggestive designs of landscape tapestries express this essential understanding. They capture a moment of temporary balance between tranquil water elements and the stronger potential powers of great mountains, the sun and the sky.

When responding to their influences at conscious and subconscious levels, the landscape patterns may create a mood that brings to mind some vivid memories. They will recall personal experiences during those fleeting times of great natural beauty and personal contentment. At those rare times, everything in inner life and outer experience seemed to coexist without conflict in a creative balance.

The familiar vase and table design represents the ideals of human control and Confucian order in the private realm of the home. The very different mountain-water pictures have another motivation. They evoke the complementary Taoist ideal in the way they imagine the untamed external domain. They imply a primary submission which is no longer to humanly imposed rules but to the overwhelming forces of nature. In a needed balance to formal Confucian understandings, these images express an eternally attractive idea. They hold out the possibility of achieving mental freedom liberated from the confinement of artificial rules and the imposed certainties of a rigid social order.

This is a true freedom disciplined only by a willing obedience to the laws and forces of nature that govern all existence. In the practices of Taoism, it was believed that this liberated consciousness could be attained in its fullest expression in the natural environment away from the regulations and artificialities of civilized life. To achieve this desired physical and mental state, it was necessary to be removed in body and mind from unnecessary distractions and selfish concerns.

The resonant theme of submission to nature’s forces is found in other textile designs. These great forces appear in border patterns representing the surrounding powers of waves, clouds and thunder. More than decorative details, these elements recall a fundamental truth. In this world, safety and protection cannot be found by following prescribed rituals or through blind obedience to rules. Partial explanations provided by elaborate systems of knowledge or illusions provided by the creations of the imagination can never become permanent refuges from the difficulties of existence. The textile designs display that all human life remains bounded by the untameable forces of nature.

Irregularly shaped stones usually with cloudlike contours on their surfaces and often pierced by holes were highly prized by connoisseurs for their artistic and metaphorical qualities. They were sought after and collected by the wealthy and powerful to display prominently in their gardens. The most valuable stones were sometimes brought at considerable expense from distant locations which were believed to have strong spiritual or mystical associations.

In contrast to the changeable flowers and trees in the gardens and unlike the constantly changing weather, the beautifully irregular stones were intended to be seen as durable symbols of the culturally admired qualities of stability and permanence. When carefully placed in Chinese gardens following all proper rules and rituals, these special stones provided a needed material and intellectual balance. They suggested the great yang powers of mountains to culturally aware observers. By means of a sympathetic magic, they were believed to have the ability to draw down helpful spirits from the sky.

Companion water elements such as pools and streams were essential features of these philosophically-designed gardens. They were needed to provide balance and complete their perceived meanings. Seen as symbols of peace and prosperity, they were believed to show or bring forth the balancing feminine yin powers. When placed together in a beautiful composition as in mountain-water pictures, they created a cosmic diagram that described in symbolic terms the eternal forces of nature.

These gardens were designed as refuges from the confusions and compromises of ordinary life. They were places of sincere contemplation for all spiritual and philosophical concerns. The complementary qualities of stones and water features produced in sensitive viewers strong feelings of living in harmony with the surrounding elements. In their imaginations, the irregular stones and passive water elements would have created at least temporarily the desired feelings of balance and peaceful coexistence with an unpredictable nature.

In Taoism, it was believed that coherent understanding could emerge if it was waited for quietly and patiently with few preconceptions. It seems apparent that ancient motivations for the thoughtful construction of Chinese gardens have again found eloquent expressions in the medium of textile designs. These designs continue to invite the contemplation of new viewers in ways that re-enact the central methods and understandings of Taoist philosophy.

A brief introduction to an unfamiliar art form should do more than document unemotionally a selection of the creative activities of another cultural tradition. Instead every effort should be made to value these creations by means of a genuine participating response. Towards this aim, we have sought to find ways of responding and valuing that share some of the special knowledge and modes of appreciation that have been meaningful in the originating cultures.

Will modern viewers in Western cultures be able to overcome the usual first response of defensive skepticism when confronted with an unfamiliar way of seeing? Will they choose not to limit themselves to premature aesthetic judgments without first acquiring the visual literacy necessary to judge these objects and images on their own terms? Will inexperienced observers be able and willing to go beyond decorative considerations and current preoccupations to allow themselves the intended experience of a gradual unfolding of lasting meanings?

Will they confront seriously the possible presence of ethical concerns as primary defining qualities of these designs? Does it then become more reasonable to speculate that surviving East Turkestan, Kansu, Paotou and Ninghshia tapestries have not lost their former abilities to trouble the aesthetic and moral imaginations? Susceptible viewers will find these effects of transformation of consciousness difficult to deny.

Within a sympathetic understanding, these responses may be especially strong from the intriguing vase and pomegranate patterns or from the mystical garden and landscape designs. Going much further, can new viewers learn to evoke some of the ancient magical powers of personal transformation that have now been recalled to memory and so movingly portrayed? Will they permit landscapes to become inscapes, personal visions of inner experiences? Finally, will viewers gain an active appreciation of the unity of aesthetics and ethics achieved in these designs? The silent textiles ask these questions.

 

9. Perception and Response

 

The incompleteness of our knowledge of the social contexts and cultural resources that influenced the textiles of East Turkestan and western China is a major part of their interest in textile studies. The relative importance of commercial concerns, aesthetic values and cultural motivations in the evolution of designs and their production for distant patrons continues to be controversial. Conventional practices for dating and origins of particular weavings have been followed. This is done with the understanding that refinements will be necessary with new discoveries and changing interpretations.

Whatever problems of objective identification remain, fewer difficulties are encountered in identifying with the universal themes expressed through this medium. Behind the symbolism of the designs, some primary motivations or unifying ideas have been detected. Like other forms of Chinese and Central Asian visual art, these textile designs implicitly convey the possibility of avoiding unnecessary conflicts. They encourage a turning away in the imagination from the confusions of daily existence. Indirectly, they display ideals of individual and social behaviour engaged in reaching beyond the narrow confinement and contradictions of present realities.

Whether abstract and geometrical or pictorial and representational, these designs may be interpreted to express lifelong goals found in every form of Chinese philosophy. Although achieved by different means, the central aims in Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism are similar. The common goal is emotional and intellectual harmony in a private life which is in satisfying and productive balance with the demands of the surrounding world.

We experience the evident harmony of the different elements of the designs and the strong impression they communicate of the profound cultural knowledge and personal sincerity which governed their creation. By continuing the creative process, our personal responses and experiences echo the transcendent goal in Chinese culture to achieve balance and harmony in every emotion and activity.

The patterns imply a constant striving towards the equilibrium of mind and body and the achievement of a balance of individual and community. According to the schools of philosophy, this becomes possible by attaining a comprehensive understanding. With this form of art, it is often necessary to observe pattern details closely and patiently to bring out possible religious motivations and concealed philosophical connections. An old Chinese proverb has obvious relevance here: “It is better to see one thing than to hear one hundred things.” The designs of East Turkestan textiles express this implicit understanding that it is necessary to look in order to see.

In this spirit, the communication of primary meanings may be achieved by modest means that are easy to overlook. In other cases, the meanings are not at all obscure. As one example, the common motif of a pair of mandarin ducks in a pictorial design is to be understood initially as a symbolic depiction of a married couple in a harmonious relationship. When shown swimming contentedly in the shelter of tall lotus plants, the paired ducks symbolize lasting togetherness. In an elementary way, these attractive images represent in Chinese culture the achievement of a union of yin and yang qualities. By a natural extension, amicable pairings of male and female ducks or other birds also symbolize possibilities of balance, harmony and permanence in every activity. Images of fish swimming in pairs are intended to evoke similar meanings.

If only for a brief time, the textile designs create a well-defined mood. They allow viewers to enter imagined domains of sincerity, reasoned behaviour, cultural awareness and inner peace. After more than seven centuries have passed since Marco Polo’s observations of life in East Turkestan, these designs still provide a visible echo of his words and perceptions. They seem to speak of people who have lived by trade and industry and were not at all war-like.

Almost fourteen centuries after the Buddhist monk Hsuan Tsang was observing the contemporary ways of life in Khotan, the tapestries of East Turkestan and western China made in relatively recent times convey a similar message. In his words, they continue to tell of people who have understood politeness and right principles. In their original contexts, the motivations for the creation of these patterns certainly valued personal sincerity and faithfulness of expression more than modern Western values of aesthetic perfection and conspicuous originality.

In an unobtrusive way, the designs should encourage in Western viewers what has been called a participating response to another culture. For many, this response initially takes the form of silent meditation. All meaningful forms of art have the ability to act on the imagination in unforeseen ways. Voluntarily or not, they lead to re-examination of accepted and unquestioned values. They find ways to impose their strong patterns on personal experiences.

The two Chinese characters that express “not” and “to see” combine to form a single character with the meaning “to be lost.” By making previously unsuspected symbolic connections, by learning to “see” in a more connected way, the patterns become moral diagrams enabling observers to find their bearings in a confusing world. Those who can truly see will find a way to safety and understanding. Transcending limitations of their physical forms, the designs evoke sincere philosophies of existence and older ways of experiencing our place in the world.

At first acquaintance, these images appear to convey little more than a tranquil simplicity. At a surface level of understanding, they express a passive response of stoic acceptance to the prevailing conditions of existence. However, they may have a secondary message that is not so neutral and accepting. Through the unexpected connections they create, they make it possible to see connections between inner and outer worlds with renewed awareness.

At deeper levels, the designs lead viewers to ponder the essentials of human life. They repeatedly encourage an active response to the conditions of existence which may lead eventually to personal and social renewal. Modern viewers may find themselves motivated by this encounter with an unfamiliar art form to go beyond accepted routines, conventional answers, and narrow focus on daily necessities for ordinary survival. Instead they are drawn to envision more lasting values. Whatever their present circumstances, they are reminded of the possibility of a more harmonious world.

When deciphering metaphorical meanings of the designs, viewers are invited to share a comprehensive cultural understanding. After prolonged imaginative exploration, they may experience a healing transformation of consciousness. Through the unifying powers of symbolic communication within and across cultures, there is the possibility of an expansion of the moral imagination.

Even without achieving the complete knowledge that is the Buddhist ideal of perfect understanding, sympathetic viewers have traveled some distance in this direction. They have found another way to affirm and create the connectedness of human experiences. This imaginative transformation is a personal journey from perception to response. It is a shared journey from outer experience to inner awareness, a journey with many others from the confusing multiplicity of perceptual experiences to the unity of a comprehensive understanding.

Discovering this fundamental connectedness of the world in the contexts of their unsettled times was the great achievement of the explorers Marco Polo and Hsuan Tsang. The stories of the journeys of the two travelers had transforming effects throughout Europe and China. As a result of these unprecedented travels, there was a dramatically changed perception of the range of human possibilities.

Echoing the challenging final words of the seventh century Chinese Buddhist monk, responsive viewers may have already concluded that the unreality of the images displayed in East Turkestan textile designs is itself unreal. After their own imaginative explorations, they may have reversed ordinary perceptions to conclude that the imagined reality the designs create is in meaningful ways the genuine reality.

In all activities of life, we seek the ideal combination of aesthetics and ethics, refined detachment and practical involvement, permanent and temporal, local and universal. These alternating dualities may be viewed as the primary subject matter of the designs. In all periods, achieving an accepted reconciliation of these concerns is the necessary task of every coherent, self-renewing community.

Like the countless writings and stories inspired by Marco Polo and Hsuan Tsang after their travels, the surviving textiles of eastern Turkestan and western China have become documents of human social history. They provide a record of the acceptance by a unique culture of the timeless task to do more than persevere. Seeing through their ambiguities and conflicting motivations, they are a surviving record of the attempt by individuals and local communities to create a lasting comprehensibility and social coherence.

Not least, these textile patterns have given lasting physical forms to feelings of identity and pride in the heritage of regional craft and art traditions. For centuries, anonymous designers and unknown weavers have adapted local customs and assimilated outside influences in sensitive ways.

Like the examples from nature provided by pomegranate and pine trees and by pliable bamboo plants, there have always been resilient individuals who may have bent submissively before forceful winds of destructive historical changes. Despite experiencing repeatedly the most unfavourable conditions, they did not completely break. After enduring hardships, they found sufficient internal and external resources to survive.

In difficult circumstances, artisans made creative use of indigenous and foreign forms of expression. Working with many material and social constraints, designers and weavers responded to deep human needs. They found imaginative ways to use textile designs to reaffirm and renew significant personal and cultural meanings. Using improbable means, there has been an effective communication of traditions and essential meanings between differing cultures over great distances of space and time.

It is not necessary to know all technical details of their creation or to be aware of the most recent scholarly interpretations before experiencing the enduring appeal of these patterns and images. As we have learned from our limited opportunities to observe, that personal reaction may come primarily from strong intuitive, emotional and intellectual responses to the timeless themes embodied in these unforgettable designs.

As their greatest achievement, the textiles in their diversity have accomplished what was a primary motivation for their creation. They make it possible for responsive viewers to participate in a rediscovery and transmission of human meanings. Beginning with some intuitions or suspicions about unfamiliar textile designs, we have ourselves ideally experienced an increasing desire to participate in their communication of emotions and meanings. They have come to represent an entry point to a more comprehensive cultural understanding.

This process does not continue indefinitely. We eventually reach a state of mind where we no longer feel the need to examine more designs and develop further explanations. We then return from the temporary refuge found in contemplating these images. Reluctantly, the imagined conceptual world brought into being by compelling designs must be left behind. Giving attention again to the ordinary world of direct experiences, we seek ways to continue a participating response to the textile designs. We do this by experiencing in lived reality what we have recently perceived through intellect, emotion and imagination. What had seemed remote from all-too-real preoccupations in the present time should now be viewed very differently.

In the expanded frame of mind that has been created, the symbolic connections uncovered will be rediscovered in the ordinary observances of daily life. With a newly transformed consciousness, they may be experienced as real connections. In this sense, our vision of reality has changed to reflect a more comprehensive understanding. Within this total way of responding, everything in experience comes into question. Responsive viewers will embody and enact the meanings encountered through viewing these tangible forms of art, contemplating the intangible philosophies they represent, and assimilating the wisdom of their patterns to their own concerns.

At an earlier stage, some challenging questions were asked. What is the essence of the Khotan vase and pomegranate designs or the many vase and table designs? What active responses were the designs intended to evoke? Asking these questions of seemingly inert textiles leads inevitably to considering a greater problem. What is the essence of human identity? This quest to reveal and display essential qualities was the philosophical motivation for the designs. The final answer or deepest response to this art form is the realisation that ethical concerns must always be the lasting essence or inner meaning of aesthetic appreciations.

After our return to everyday reality, we still remember what may be the most challenging words encountered on our journey: “Unreality is unreal.” Repeating the final words spoken by Hsuan Tsang in 664 could serve to conclude this brief introduction to textiles from East Turkestan and western China. Their condensed message may certainly be applied to the subtle themes the weavings so movingly communicate.

Some equally famous final words were spoken in 1324. On the last day of Marco Polo’s life, his Catholic confessor attempted to save the explorer from eternal damnation. He implored the traveler to abandon his exaggerations and falsehoods before it was too late. He urged Marco to seize this last opportunity and admit that the fabulous stories he had told about his travels were inventions of his fevered imagination.

Despite the skepticism encountered after his return to Italy, Marco Polo always refused repeated urgings to recant the greatly expanded conception of human reality he described. Not surprisingly, he remained true to the steadfast and unyielding qualities that enabled him to accomplish his arduous journeys. From hard-won experiences, he had learned never to accept common opinions without observing and questioning.

Using his last resources of strength and will, the explorer was defiant and unwavering. Turning aside the priest’s impatient entreaties, he increased the challenge to those who had doubted him. Marco urged them to repeat his journey if only in their imaginations. He asked them to participate in his enlarged vision of the greatness of the world and strive to complete it in their own experiences. He is reported to have said in response, “I have not told you half of what I have seen.”

—

James Turner & Iraj Nouraie

Copyright 2018

www.tabar.ca

info@tabar.ca