The dulemola panels in this blouse feature two women dancing together; however, they are not shown wearing the traditional Guna wrap-around skirt, but rather flaring European-style ones. It becomes clear that there are many levels to the interaction of local Guna and imposed outsider influences in these supremely creative compositions.
]]>The modern and contemporary women of the north coast and offshore islands of Panamá, the Guna (previously Cuna or Kuna), incorporated the European scissors and machine-made cloth in the 19th century to make a remarkable new “traditional” blouse. It mixes European-style gathered sleeves and yoke with a unique type of “cut-work” in which layers of cloth are pierced to reveal many colors and create intricate designs. Such a blouse, and the cutwork panel itself, is known in the Guna language as a dulemola.
The dulemola panels in this blouse feature two women dancing together; however, they are not shown wearing the traditional Guna wrap-around skirt, but rather flaring European-style ones. It becomes clear that there are many levels to the interaction of local Guna and imposed outsider influences in these supremely creative compositions.
In this khipu, the main horizontal cord is read from left to right. As in Western mathematics, the Inka used a base-ten numerical system. Hanging down from the main cord are variously colored pendant cords with different types of knots arranged in registers. These record numbers, here the largest being “160” and the smallest “1” (see attached diagram file). Numbers can and were used primarily as codes—much like the binary code of 0’s and 1’s in modern computers—to delineate many types of information.
Though the Spanish never learned to read khipu, they did record that the Inka used them to record the amount of food in storehouses, census data, tribute, history, astronomy, and even poetry. While scholars are still working on the existing 850 examples of khipu to decipher their meanings, new archaeological findings include some khipu piled on top of maize kernels and others on top of beans, providing a tantalizing clue that may begin to unravel the way in which the Inka used threads to record various kinds
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Writing—recording information in a format that others at the time and later can decipher—was accomplished by the Inka Empire of South America using thousands of knotted string devices known as khipu. In the Carlos collection there are two other examples of the knot writing (multi- and single-strand) that helped the Inka conquer more than 3,000 miles of territory and twelve million subjects in less than a century (1428–1534 AD).
In this khipu, the main horizontal cord is read from left to right. As in Western mathematics, the Inka used a base-ten numerical system. Hanging down from the main cord are variously colored pendant cords with different types of knots arranged in registers. These record numbers, here the largest being “160” and the smallest “1” (see attached diagram file). Numbers can and were used primarily as codes—much like the binary code of 0’s and 1’s in modern computers—to delineate many types of information.
Though the Spanish never learned to read khipu, they did record that the Inka used them to record the amount of food in storehouses, census data, tribute, history, astronomy, and even poetry. While scholars are still working on the existing 850 examples of khipu to decipher their meanings, new archaeological findings include some khipu piled on top of maize kernels and others on top of beans, providing a tantalizing clue that may begin to unravel the way in which the Inka used threads to record various kinds
The odd plant-fiber strand with unusual knots, has been scientifically dated to between 1508 and 1652 AD; therefore, it is an authentic Inka-to-early-Colonial object. Yet, unlike other khipu, it is entirely made of strands of Furcreae andina, a succulent whose stringy leaves can be made into fiber objects. Comprising only one cord, rather than a main cord with others hanging from it, makes it unique as well. Furthermore, the knots are made backwards.
All these strange features defy exact explanation, but its possible date, as late as 1652, may indicate that in the first century after the Inka downfall writing had changed dramatically without their strict control over communication. Clearly shifts in almost every aspect of the khipu had taken place soon after the Spanish takeover.
]]>A writing device—fulfilling the communicative purpose of recording and transmitting knowledge among trained individuals over time—the Inka khipu can take a number of forms (a mono- and polychrome example). In the ways that a handwritten poem and a printed technical manual differ, textile writing, too, was adaptable to a wide range of uses and audiences in Inka times.
The odd plant-fiber strand with unusual knots, has been scientifically dated to between 1508 and 1652 AD; therefore, it is an authentic Inka-to-early-Colonial object. Yet, unlike other khipu, it is entirely made of strands of Furcreae andina, a succulent whose stringy leaves can be made into fiber objects. Comprising only one cord, rather than a main cord with others hanging from it, makes it unique as well. Furthermore, the knots are made backwards.
All these strange features defy exact explanation, but its possible date, as late as 1652, may indicate that in the first century after the Inka downfall writing had changed dramatically without their strict control over communication. Clearly shifts in almost every aspect of the khipu had taken place soon after the Spanish takeover.
The single strand khipu measures approximately 2-3 millimeters in diameter and is constructed from a 2-ply bundled cord, which is wrapped with an additional bundled cord, which includes occasional blue fibers. Conservator Ashley Jehle examined small samples of these blue fibers using a polarizing light microscope and characterized them as animal fibers. The deteriorated condition of the scale pattern prevented identification of the species, which is likely to be camelid, given the date. Small samples from the bundled cord and wrapping fibers were sent to Dr. Simon Lægaard of Aarhus University in Denmark. Using microscopy techniques, Dr. Lægaard identified both as leaf fibers from Furcraea Andina, as identified in the Feather Fan. Jehle also sent approximately 0.01g of plant fiber from the khipu to The Center for Applied Isotope Studies at the University of Georgia, Athens for radiocarbon (C-14) analysis by accelerator mass spectrometry (AMS) and stable isotope ratio analysis. Dr. Alexander Cherkinsky reported the calibrated date as between 1508-1652 CE.
For more conservation information, please see The Threads of Time Conservation Project.
While it still could predate the 1534 conquest, a number of unusual features in comparison to solidly Inka ones (a single-strand and a polychrome) strongly suggest it post-dates the Inka Empire. This one records only the numbers between 1 and 5, unlike the classic khipu with numbers as high as 160 at far right. Its main cord has been cut in two places which would never have been done in ancient times; cutting thread or cloth was considered to be breaking its life force and disrespecting its integrity. These features suggest that this example is a later, simpler version of knot writing, as it was changing under the Spanish (who certainly cut cloth to tailor their clothing).
]]>It may seem odd that the distinctively Inka mode of writing in knotted threads would survive the Spanish invasion and colonization. Indeed, in 1581 the khipu was officially outlawed, although its use went underground and has not completely disappeared to this day. The large yet still fragmentary example very likely dates to the early colonial times, according to a Carbon-14 date that places it between 1489 and 1652 AD.
While it still could predate the 1534 conquest, a number of unusual features in comparison to solidly Inka ones (a single-strand and a polychrome) strongly suggest it post-dates the Inka Empire. This one records only the numbers between 1 and 5, unlike the classic khipu with numbers as high as 160 at far right. Its main cord has been cut in two places which would never have been done in ancient times; cutting thread or cloth was considered to be breaking its life force and disrespecting its integrity. These features suggest that this example is a later, simpler version of knot writing, as it was changing under the Spanish (who certainly cut cloth to tailor their clothing).
This khipu was completely stitched to a fabric-covered board in order to align and fully support each element. Small fragile fragments, such as the Wari-related tapestry fragment, were also fully stitched to wrapped boards. The secondary support board is a lightweight aluminum panel, padded with a layer of polyester batting and then covered with the cotton display cloth. When possible, objects were only stitched along one edge to permit viewing of the reverse. The stitched fragments will remain on the boards for future storage, examination, and display. Less fragile objects were temporarily placed on wrapped boards for this exhibition. These supports are made from archival corrugated and foam-core boards, padded and wrapped as the aluminum panels.
For more conservation information, please see The Threads of Time Conservation Project.
The letters for Jesus, whom the missionaries have told the Guna they will meet after death, are probably shown reversed to indicate that the scene with the Paliwiduru is taking place on the Other Side, in the Land of the Dead. In indigenous American cosmology, the afterlife is a reversed realm relative to the world of the living. Since the scene is looking from the point of view of “the Beyond,” the name of Jesus is written backwards. Although the missionaries and colonists imposed their system of writing and religion on the Guna, indigenous people incorporated it into their pre-existing worldview. European-style letters, and angels in Heaven are eclipsed by the overriding traditional concept of the Paliwiduru.
]]>Writing is incorporated into this contemporary cut-and-sewn dulemola made by the Guna people from the northern coast and Caribbean islands off Panamá. In the top center a version of the letters “IHS” can be seen, the monogram abbreviated from IHΣΟΥΣ, Greek for “Jesus.” However, it is important to note that the Christogram is shown backwards. The other imagery in this piece helps to explain why this might be so. Although they may look like Christian angels, the two winged, kneeling figures flanking the letters also have eagle heads and deer antlers. The Guna call these spiritual beings Paliwiduru and they believe that they call the soul of the recently deceased out of his or her body, instructing it on how to begin its afterlife journey. Thus, the artist of this piece has combined Christian elements with those of the ongoing indigenous religion.
The letters for Jesus, whom the missionaries have told the Guna they will meet after death, are probably shown reversed to indicate that the scene with the Paliwiduru is taking place on the Other Side, in the Land of the Dead. In indigenous American cosmology, the afterlife is a reversed realm relative to the world of the living. Since the scene is looking from the point of view of “the Beyond,” the name of Jesus is written backwards. Although the missionaries and colonists imposed their system of writing and religion on the Guna, indigenous people incorporated it into their pre-existing worldview. European-style letters, and angels in Heaven are eclipsed by the overriding traditional concept of the Paliwiduru.
Writing is incorporated into this contemporary cut-and-sewn dulemola made by the Guna people from the northern coast and Caribbean islands off Panamá. In the top center a version of the letters “IHS” can be seen, the monogram abbreviated from IHΣΟΥΣ, Greek for “Jesus.” However, it is important to note that the Christogram is shown backwards. The other imagery in this piece helps to explain why this might be so. Although they may look like Christian angels, the two winged, kneeling figures flanking the letters also have eagle heads and deer antlers. The Guna call these spiritual beings Paliwiduru and they believe that they call the soul of the recently deceased out of his or her body, instructing it on how to begin its afterlife journey. Thus, the artist of this piece has combined Christian elements with those of the ongoing indigenous religion.
The letters for Jesus, whom the missionaries have told the Guna they will meet after death, are probably shown reversed to indicate that the scene with the Paliwiduru is taking place on the Other Side, in the Land of the Dead. In indigenous American cosmology, the afterlife is a reversed realm relative to the world of the living. Since the scene is looking from the point of view of “the Beyond,” the name of Jesus is written backwards. Although the missionaries and colonists imposed their system of writing and religion on the Guna, indigenous people incorporated it into their pre-existing worldview. European-style letters, and angels in Heaven are eclipsed by the overriding traditional concept of the Paliwiduru.
Central America, Guna Yala (San Blas Islands/North Coast of Panamá)
When indigenous Americans were forced to adapt to European ways, one of the most novel ones was alphabetic writing. In a famous incident, Bishop Diego de Landa attempted to make a Maya scribe write their “alphabet” by saying the names of letters in Spanish: “ah” for “a,” “bay” for “b,” etc. Since the Maya mainly drew glyphs for words or for syllables, the poor scribe did his best to translate the strange request. In Mayan “ah” was the word for water, so he drew that hieroglyph, and so on. Both parties finally stopped in frustration, the scribe adding a sentence of complaint at the bottom “I don’t want to do this anymore.” Though the experiment in cross-cultural communication seemed a failure at the time, this table of glyphs and his comment actually helped modern scholars decipher the Maya hieroglyphic system beginning in the 1960s.
Centuries later, this Maya textile ingeniously incorporates Western words, now a prestigious appropriation of the foreign writing. In strings that were tied-dyed before they were woven, quite a technical and design feat, the weaver has spelled out a name: Mateo Yax. Mateo is Spanish for Matthew, while Yax is a time period in the Maya solar calendar (January 22–February 10). Individuals born during this time are considered gentle, peaceful, and harmonious. Thus, this man’s name blends the new and the old, a man living in the ex-colony of Spain and sharing a first name with the colonizers, yet simultaneously claiming ancient and ongoing Maya heritage. The surname being Maya links him to his origins through his father’s line, the way descent was claimed in both the ancient Maya and modern Spanish worlds. The weaver, most likely a woman, created this extraordinary cross-cultural mix of writing and ideas to celebrate a man between two worlds.