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The Art and Archaeology of Bodily Adornment
The Art and Archaeology of Bodily Adornment examines the significance of adornment to the shaping of identity in mortuary contexts within Central and East Asia and brings these perspectives into dialogue with current scholarship in other worldwide regions. Adornment and dress are well-established fields of study for the ancient world, particularly with regard to Europe and the Americas. Often left out of this growing discourse are contributions from scholars of Central and East Asia. The mortuary contexts of focus in this volume represent unique sites and events where identity was visualized, and often manipulated and negotiated, through material objects and their placement on and about the deceased body. The authors examine ornaments, jewelry, clothing, and hairstyles to address questions of identity construction regarding dimensions such as gender and social and political status, and transcultural exchange from burials of prehistoric and early historical archaeological sites in Central Asia, China, Korea, and Japan. In both breadth and depth, this book will be of interest to students and scholars interested in the archaeology, art, and history of Central and East Asia, as well as anyone interested in the general study of dress and adornment. Sheri A. Lullo is an Assistant Professor of Asian art history in the Department of Visual Arts at Union College in Schenectady, NY. Her research focuses on toiletries and clothing, as well as imagery of hairstyles and dress, in archaeological contexts of Warring States through Han dynasty China (5th c. BCE to the 3rd c. CE). Leslie V. Wallace is an Assistant Professor at Coastal Carolina University, where she specializes in the art and archaeology of early China. Her most recent publication is, “The Early History of Falconry in China and the Question of Its Origins,” in Raptor and Human: Falconry and Bird Symbolism throughout the Millennia on a Global Scale (2018).
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The Art and Archaeology of Bodily Adornment Studies from Central and East Asian Mortuary Contexts
Edited by Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace
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First published 2020 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2020 selection and editorial matter, Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Lullo, Sheri (Sheri A.), editor. | Wallace, Leslie V., editor. Title: The art and archaeology of bodily adornment : studies from Central and East Asian mortuary contexts / edited by Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace. Description: Abingdon, Oxon ; New York, NY : Routledge, 2019. | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Identifiers: LCCN 2019007107 (print) | LCCN 2019013960 (ebook) | ISBN 9781351268325 (Ebook) | ISBN 9781138576933 (hardback : alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Dress accessories–Asia, Central–History–To 1500. | Dress accessories–East Asia–History–To 1500. | Decoration and ornament, Ancient–Asia, Central. | Decoration and ornament, Ancient–East Asia. | Grave goods–Asia, Central. | Grave goods–East Asia. | Asia, Central–Antiquities. | East Asia–Antiquities. Classification: LCC NK4775 (ebook) | LCC NK4775 .A78 2019 (print) | DDC 391.00958–dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019007107 ISBN: 978-1-138-57693-3 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-351-26832-5 (ebk) Typeset in Sabon by Newgen Publishing UK
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Contents
List of figures List of tables List of contributors 1 Introduction: Dimensions of personal adornment
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S H E R I A . L U L L O AN D L E SL IE V. WAL L ACE
PART I
Gender and social status
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2 Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden: Perceptions of Early Jōmon hunter-gatherer gender and identities
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I L O N A R . B AUSCH
3 Some features of “Xiongnu” composite belts
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S.S. MINIAEV
4 Adornments of Golden Silla
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SA R A H M I L L EDGE N E L SO N
PART II
Transcultural contexts
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5 The Yayoi-Kofun transition as seen from the exchange network of beads in the Japanese archipelago
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A R I TA N I Z AWA
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6 Why wear dolphins? Greek imagery among the pastoralists along the ancient Oxus
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K A R E N S . RUB IN SO N
7 The power and authority of exotic accessories: Ornamentation of human and equine haniwa at Tsukamawari Tomb 4, Gunma, Japan
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K A R E N M . GE RH ART AN D KATH E RYN M. LINDU FF
PART III
Assemblage
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8 Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite
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E L I Z A B E TH CH IL DS-J O H N SO N
9 Does a feather in your hat a barbarian make? Headgear and hairstyles in Han dynasty tomb murals in the Ordos 161 L E S L I E V. WAL L ACE
10 Dressing the dead in Jin China
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SA R A H L AU RSE N
Index
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Figures
.1 Distribution map of East Asian sites mentioned in Chapter 2. 2 2.2 Overview of the representative adornment types at Odake. 2.3 Odake Tomb 14: male adult with wolf-tooth, shell, and antler pendants. 2.4 Odake Tomb 26: young male with two perforated bear-tooth pendants. 2.5 Odake Tomb 71: elderly female with bird-bone bead necklaces and Tomb 29: an adult female with a decorated bone pendant. 2.6 Odake Tomb 25: young female wearing a pair of stone slit earrings. 3.1 Burials 54 and 109. 3.2 Burials 106, 115, 127, and 130. 3.3 Burials 102 and 108. 4.1 Gogok from various Silla tombs. 4.2 Chestlace made of blue glass beads and gold. 4.3 Gold shoes soles from the Decorated Shoes Tomb. 4.4 Gold crown from the North mound of Tomb 98, Hwangnam Taechong. 4.5 Gold belt from the Heavenly Horse Tomb. 4.6 Kinship chart: Silla kings and queens. 5.1 Burials with beads during Late Yayoi (LY) and Early Kofun (EK). 5.2 Regional divisions. 5.3 The temporal changes of glass beads in western Japan. 5.4 Regional differences in the composition of round glass beads. 5.5 Beads in a burial in situ. 5.6 Variation of curved beads in the Yayoi period 1. 5.7 Comparison of shape variations in curved beads from the Late Yayoi and Early Kofun. 5.8 Regional differences in curved beads. 6.1 Regional map.
21 25 27 28 29 31 43 44 48 59 61 63 64 65 70 78 82 86 87 89 91 93 94 102
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viii List of figures 6.2 Babashov Cemetery, Group XIV, Burial 25. 6.3 Dolphin-amphora earrings. 7.1 Tomb 4, Tsukamawari site, Gunma Prefecture, early 6th century CE. 7.2 Map of kofun dispersement. 7.3 Haniwa group from Tomb 4. 7.4 Vessel in the shape of a warrior on horseback (one of a pair). 7.5 Haniwa horse. 7.6 Female shaman. 8.1 Major sites of the Liangzhu Culture. 8.2 Ground plan and overview reconstruction of the platform mound cemetery at Zhaolingshan, Kunshan, Jiangsu, and ground plan and view of the platform mound cemetery at Fuquanshan. 8.3 Standardized imagery of Liangzhu jades. 8.4 Cosmological symbols in pre-Liangzhu Hemudu, Lingjiatan, Songze, and Liangzhu period art, 3500–2000 BCE. 8.5 Adornment types of jades from Liangzhu tombs. 8.6 Hypothetical reconstruction of a Liangzhu leader based on jade paraphernalia within burials of Liangzhu Ancient City’s raised earthen pyramidal mounds (left) and an in situ burial, Tomb 19 from Fanshan. 9.1 Line drawing of the west wall of Fenghuangshan Tomb 1; figures riding in a chariot procession depicted on the west wall; herders in the hills depicted on the west wall. 9.2 Detail of a line drawing of a portion of the east wall of Fenghuangshan Tomb 1; detail showing the female figures in the courtyard on the east wall. 9.3 Detail of a line drawing of the center portion of the painted silk funerary banner from Mawangdui Tomb 1 showing the deceased and attendants. 9.4 Detail of the rear wall of Fenghuangshan M1. 10.1 A warrior, a shield, a groom, a female attendant, a male attendant, a tomb guardian, and a bull from M34 at Xingyuan village, Yanshi, Henan, Wei (220–265) or Jin (265–316) dynasty. 10.2 Stamped bricks depicting Xiang Xiu (228–281), one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove, from the tomb at Xishanqiao, near Nanjing, Jiangsu, Southern Dynasties (420–589). 10.3 Set of ten gilt bronze belt plaques, China, Western Jin dynasty (265–316), Metropolitan Museum of Art. 10.4 Nanjing University Tomb (tomb of Jin Chengdi and Empress Gongdu?), Gulou Hill, Nanjing, Jiangsu, Eastern Jin dynasty (317–420).
104 106 120 123 124 126 128 131 142
145 147 148 150
158 162 162 165 171
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List of figures ix 10.5 Gold and silver ornaments including bracelets, rings, leaves, and hairpins, M105 at Echeng, Hubei, Wu kingdom (222–280). 10.6 Gu Kaizhi (c. 344/5–406), The Admonitions of the Instructress to the Court Ladies, silk handscroll, late Tang dynasty (618–907) copy of an Eastern Jin (317–420) original, British Museum, London.
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Tables
.1 Jōmon periodization with dates. 2 2.2 Burials with in situ adornment funerary goods at Odake Shell Midden. 5.1 Relative chronological chart. 5.3 Subdivisions of IPB in the Japanese archipelago.
20 26 83 84
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Contributors
Ilona R. Bausch, Visiting Professor, Cultural Resource Studies, Graduate School of Humanities & Sociology, The University of Tokyo. Elizabeth Childs-Johnson, Senior Editor, Oxford Handbook on Early China. Karen M. Gerhart, Professor, History of Art and Architecture, University of Pittsburgh. Sarah Laursen, Assistant Professor, History of Art and Architecture and Curator of Asian Art, Middlebury College. Katheryn M. Linduff, Professor Emeritus, History of Art and Architecture, University of Pittsburgh. Sheri A. Lullo, Assistant Professor, Visual Arts, Union College. Sarah Milledge Nelson, Professor, Anthropology, University of Denver. Sergey S. Miniaev, Senior Science Researcher, Institute for the History of Material Culture, Russian Academy of Sciences. Karen S. Rubinson, Research Associate, Institute for the Study of the Ancient World, New York University. Ari Tanizawa, Assistant Professor, Kyushu University Museum. Leslie V. Wallace, Assistant Professor, Visual Arts, Coastal Carolina University.
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1 Introduction Dimensions of personal adornment Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace
Inquiry into the significance of personal adornment, along with dress, in the ancient and modern worlds by now constitutes a well-established field of study, particularly for material from Europe and the Americas. Personal adornment for this volume is inclusive of ornaments of the body (belts, various forms of jewelry, such as earrings or pendant necklaces, and beads) and the hair (including hairstyles, pins, and headdresses), many of which functioned visually against or alongside clothing to contribute to constructions of the social body. Current studies of personal adornment and dress are characterized by broad interdisciplinarity, combining perspectives spanning anthropology, history, art history, sociology, and philosophy. For example, the long-established series, Dress, Body, Culture, which commenced in 1997 and is published by Bloomsbury (formerly Berg), gathers a range of titles that offer multi-disciplinary approaches to the contextualized examination of the clothed body, with studies focused on specific cultures, time periods, and sartorial phenomena, as well as theoretical explorations of the topic. Despite the inclusion of titles from various regions of greater Asia in the Dress, Body, Culture series (for example, Cliffe 2017; Hume 2013; Wu 2009) and a growing number of other publications on adornment and dress in Asia (for example, Lullo 2016; Lingley 2010, 2007; Vicary & Vollmer 2010; Finnane 2008; Nelson 1998; Ebersole 1998), contributions from scholars studying this region are still quite limited, and more often focused on later historical periods or the present. Moreover, rarely have efforts been made to compile in a single publication the research of scholars of Asia whose work has been concerned with body adornments (for an exception, see Hiltebeitel & Miller 1998). This is one of the principle reasons why studies and perspectives from Asia are so often left out of ever-complex conversations about the multifaceted importance of the dressed body. This volume, therefore, represents a preliminary attempt to contribute material from Asia to such scholarly exchanges. Specifically, the essays that follow bring prehistoric and early historical material from Central and East Asia to the growing discourse on dress and adornment across the ancient world (for
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2 Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace example, Orr & Looper 2014; Loren 2010; Colburn & Heyn 2008; Gansell 2007; Green 2007; Cleland, Harlow & Llewellyn- Jones 2005; Marcus 1993; Barnes & Eicher 1992; Clark 1986). The contributed chapters in this book are written by archaeologists and art historians who examine material and visual culture relating to personal adornment from Central and East Asian mortuary contexts, including articles used to adorn the body in death and representations of adorned bodies in two and three dimensions. While the volume itself was conceived first, most of the authors (Bausch, Gerhart and Linduff, Laursen, Lullo, Nelson, Rubinson, Tanizawa, and Wallace, with the addition of Gina Barnes) gathered together in the summer of 2016 to present their preliminary research at the seventh worldwide conference of the Society for East Asian Archaeology (SEAA), held at Boston and Harvard Universities. The research work for this volume covers a wide geographic and temporal range: It includes, from west to east, late 1st century BCE and early 1st century CE sites along the ancient Oxus River (present-day Amu Darya River) from regions of Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, and Afghanistan; 3rd-and 2nd-century BCE Xiongnu burials from the Trans-Baikal region of Eastern Siberia; protohistoric and early dynastic materials (ca. 3300 BCE to 4th-century CE) from central, eastern, and northwestern China; mounded tombs of the early rulers of the Silla state (early 1st millennium CE) in Korea; and prehistoric and protohistoric contexts across Japan (3400 BCE to 6th-century CE). Approaches for individual case studies vary and are often determined by the fragmentary nature of the archaeological record and surviving archaeological, visual, or textual materials. All authors, however, utilize published archaeological information to consider the multiple ways ornamentation and adornment have functioned to define and gather social and (multi)cultural identities in mortuary contexts. As with studies for Europe and the Americas, for which early examinations of the clothed body (which often comprises personal adornment) occupied a subset of art history and were primarily concerned with tracing the history of dress and reconstructing the fully costumed body for specific cultural contexts and time periods (Cleland, Harlow, & Llewellyn-Jones 2005, p. xii; Entwistle & Wilson 2001, pp. 1–2), much of what has been published about personal adornments for Asia is primarily descriptive. Such publications are numerous and, at times, encyclopedic in format, and can be found published in languages appropriate to each context (for example, see Inoue, Tsuyuki, & Seki 2008; Nara Joshi Daigaku 2008; Sun 2008 [1990]; Hamamoto 2004; Gao 2001; Hua 2001). Personal adornment in Asian contexts has also been highlighted through museum exhibitions, and the accompanying catalogs have provided useful data and inspiration for further study (Lingley 2007; So 1995; White & Bunker 1994; Castile & Shangraw et al. 1992). These resources serve as a valuable supplement to detailed archaeological reports and references to adornment in the textual record (where available), thus enabling the more focused explorations of what it meant to adorn the
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Dimensions of personal adornment 3 body in specific ways (both in life and in death), as provided for the first time in the following chapters. One of the principal aims of this volume is to offer case studies from Asia that contribute to existing discursive models on adornment in the ancient world. First and foremost, the authors consider the sociocultural meaning of dress and adornment as a visual language for communicating information such as status and affiliation. Summaries of the development of approaches to dress and adornment abound in current scholarship outside of Asian Studies (ex., Lee 2015; Orr & Looper 2014; Entwistle & Wilson 2001). Our perspective draws partly from early analytical inquiries that approached dress as a kind of language. Semioticians of the 1950s and 1960s saw components of the dressed body as a system of signs to be comprehended akin to verbal communication (ex., Barthes 1983). Spearheaded by the work of Joanne B. Eicher and Mary Ellen Roach-Higgins (Roach & Eicher 2007, 1965; Barnes & Eicher 1992), anthropologists developed and refined these linear and abstract structuralist perspectives in two essential ways that form the core approach of contributors to this volume. First is a consideration of the particular social and cultural frames of the dressed body. In other words, social codes for dressing are culturally determined, and it is only from within those domains that we can begin to understand differentiation of adornment to reflect or determine, for example, one’s social or political role, worth, and rank (see, for example, Miniaev, this volume). This is especially significant when considering contexts of cultural exchange. Many of the authors in this volume (Nelson, Tanizawa, Rubinson, Gerhart and Linduff, Wallace, and Laursen) deal with burials of individuals living at the interstices of disparate yet conversant cultural traditions. Examination of the layering or combining of cultural references through adornment is asserted here as a central means to understand how individuals negotiated identity in the face of difference. Second is a consideration of the body. For all of the cultures addressed in this volume, the “body” was a clothed body, and thus inherently social. Yet merely considering social dimensions of garments or headpieces without reference to a body effectively renders these components of material culture as static referents to various facets of identity (Lee 2015, p. 23; Entwistle & Wilson 2001). Where possible, consideration of not just what was worn, but how it was worn, and how different components of appearance communicated messages in dialogue with each other and with the active body in particularized contexts has also served as an important contribution to our understanding of the dressed/social body (see Gerhart & Linduff, Wallace, and Laursen). Moreover, mindful of the fragmentary nature of the archaeological record, authors attempt to adopt a more humanistic approach to the data, imagining subjects not simply as male and female social actors following prescribed codes, but as men and women who had the ability and agency to make conscious choices about how they presented themselves to the world. That stated, where relationships between archaeologically
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4 Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace sexed bodies and culturally constructed notions of gender are still uncertain, authors default to the terms “male” and “female.” Given the above emphasis on culturally specific, yet multi-vocal clothed bodies, this volume also addresses the important roles that objects and processes of adornment play in the particular arena of mortuary contexts, and as part of flexible and fluid displays of identity in death. Authors approach the data with caution, mindful of the funerary context in which adornments were deployed and arranged, a setting that in many cases speaks more to the discourse of identity construction than to actual practices in life (Green 2007, p. 286). Still, reference in this introduction to the “social body” points to an awareness that bodies arrayed in burials were often composed according to both sociocultural and ritual standards but may also have served as occasions for challenging such norms. Moreover, where discussion shifts to the dressed body in life, supporting evidence is offered (ex. Laursen). The evidence presented in each chapter is often suggestive of the multi- dimensional significance of adornments, but we have chosen to frame these chapters around three different perspectives that overlap with issues relevant to cultural contexts across the ancient world: (1) those that challenge gendered and overly simplistic interpretations of articles of adornment in the archaeological record; (2) those that highlight the complicated, but central, role of adornment in contexts of cross-cultural contact and exchange; and (3) implications of understanding adornments as part of a larger assemblage forming the clothed body.
Part I: Gender and social status Gender and status are two of the most common facets of identity that can be understood through studies of adornment and dress (Sørensen 2006, 2000; Roach & Eicher 1965). The chapters in Part I work through some of the complex ways that these dimensions of social difference appear in the archaeological record. Early explorations of identity through appearance recognized ornaments and clothing as a kind of visual language of symbols or codes that served to communicate social messages (Bogatyrev 1971)— most readily information about gender and position or rank. For these reasons, the interpretation of gender in burials is predominantly driven by articles of personal adornment, especially where preservation of osteological and material remains are poor and/or additional visual or textual information is lacking, such as in prehistoric or less complex societies. However, the limitations that result from such interpretations are by now well heeded. To be sure, where burials can be sexed, distributions of objects that may appear to mark a deceased as male or female at times resist clear gendered distinctions (Joyce 2008, pp. 56– 57; Meskell 1999, pp. 77–83). Moreover, Judith Butler’s assertion of gender as performance (Butler 1990) has underscored the complexity of gendered identity, ideas particularly relevant to analysis of
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Dimensions of personal adornment 5 archaeological contexts, where dimensions of lived experience are oftentimes difficult to access (Sørensen 2006, pp. 112–113; 2000, pp. 78 and 133). Such is the case for burials of the Early Jōmon period in Japan, where gender figured along with a range of other facets of identity to distinguish individuals in burial. In “Adornments at Odake Shell Midden site: Perceptions of Early Jōmon hunter- gatherer gender and identities,” Ilona R. Bausch challenges assumptions that Early Jōmon ornaments, such as stone slit earrings and pendants, were markers of female fertility and male strength, respectively. She examines personal adornments recovered from the relatively well-preserved and sexed burials of the Odake Shell Midden site (ca. 3400–2900 BCE), located along the western coast of Japan’s Honshu Island. Her analysis shows that items of personal adornment can suggest more about status with regard to hunting skills or ritual identity than they do about gendered hierarchies. Particular types of ornaments may have even been gender neutral, and instead informative as symbols of protective or healing magic. Moreover, while Bausch limits her examination to the burials of the Odake Shell Midden, she notes importantly that the vast majority of items of personal adornment were recovered from other contexts of the site, which indicates that possession and display of such items may not have even been restricted to a select few. Thus, Bausch’s chapter, like recent work by others upon which she draws, reminds us that the discourse of identity construction in prehistoric, non-stratified societies may have been more complex than is often assumed. In addition, her study raises interesting questions about the roles women occupied in prehistoric cultures. Similarly, for particular categories of Xiongnu burials, Sergey Miniaev finds that ornamental accessories did not directly relate to the gender or social status of the deceased, and instead may have acted as markers of cultural affiliation. High-ranking members of the Xiongnu 匈奴, a political confederation that dominated the eastern portion of Central Asia from the late 3rd through the early 2nd centuries BCE, were buried in large barrows surrounded by accompanying, or satellite, burials. In “Some features of ‘Xiongnu’ composite belts,” Miniaev re- examines materials from these smaller accompanying burials at the Xiongnu cemetery at Derestuj, located in the Trans-Baikal region of Eastern Siberia, Russia. Miniaev focuses on belt sets that were buried with both men and women of varying ages. For different groups living across the Eurasian Steppe, belts were typically an important element of dress and acted as a kind of “social language” communicating individual status (Brosseder 2011, p. 349). Miniaev makes the claim that, in this case, belt sets were not primarily markers of age or sex. Nor were they reflective of high status, since the burials in question were all part of the “sacrificial” graves surrounding central barrows, with richer burials accompanying the larger and more complex barrows. Moreover, the “Ordos style” animal imagery featured on the bronze belt plaques of the sets may indicate that the deceased in these smaller burials were of a different ethnic origin than individuals buried in the larger central barrows.
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6 Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace In this case, particular items of personal adornment may have been deliberately included in such burials to assert the foreign identity of those sacrificed. Miniaev’s study presents a shift in focus from the grand barrows of privileged Xiongnu to the surrounding sacrificial burials, highlighting the ways in which adornments also served as a significant means to signal the identities of those intended to accompany leaders in death. As with Bausch, Sarah Milledge Nelson’s chapter, “Adornments of Golden Silla,” also sheds light on the way earlier gender- biased interpretations impacted initial analysis of gold crowns and related articles of adornment buried in the great royal mounded tombs (4th to 6th centuries CE) of the ancient Korean state of Silla. Nelson revisits materials that early archaeologists and historians associated with male kings. She links the form and material of these crowns to similar examples from cultures living along the Gold Road that stretched from the Caspian Sea to the Korean peninsula and also notes the acceptance of female rulers among these peoples, thereby enhancing our understanding of the close connections between adornment, leadership, and gender in the Silla polity.
Part II: Transcultural contexts Chapters in Part II, which survey materials from low-level and elite graves in Central Asia and Japan, attest to the importance of studying adornments in mortuary contexts evidencing transculturation. Transculturation, a term first coined by Cuban anthropologist Ferdinand Ortiz in 1940 (Ortiz 1995), and its related terms (transcultural; tranculturality) have been used across disciplines to deal with the integration and convergence of cultural elements. The case studies gathered here focus on articles of adornment from frontier or contact zones or demonstrate the incorporation and negotiation of material culture from points far afield into local contexts. All attend to the relationships between material culture and the mediation of internal and external forces in areas characterized by intense cultural contact and exchange and/or during periods of political and social transformation. Like other transcultural objects, articles of adornment were not in every case imported and/or copied wholesale. Instead, forms of ornament and clothing were often altered to incorporate new aesthetic and cultural facets and adapted to fit local contexts and needs. Rather than using traditional binary juxtapositions such as “familiar and foreign” to explain articles worn on the body, the strength of approaching these materials and burial contexts within a transcultural framework lies in the fact that it provides, the possibility of using a bottom-up strategy in order to approach archaeological evidence as the result of local creativity (and) … the chance to understand similarities and correspondences between local and distant
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Dimensions of personal adornment 7 material not in the traditional term of ‘external cultural influence’ but rather as an active practice of enhancement within local communities. (Sabatini 2015, p. 247) Sabatini’s study of pottery from the Early Iron Age necropolis of Sala Consilina is part of a growing body of archaeological research that uses tranculturality as an approach to avoid the unbalanced power dynamic and mono-directionality of paradigms like acculturation that suggest one dominant culture “influences” another; transculturality also gives greater agency to cultures incorporating new traditions or forms (Sabatini 2015, 2013; Bergerbrant 2013; Stockhammer 2012; Deagen 1998).1 As the following chapters demonstrate, studies of articles of adornment in transcultural contexts can provide a more nuanced understanding of how material culture associated with the body is part of multifaceted encounters and mediation between local traditions and external cultural forces. These explorations of body ornaments as bound up in contexts of cultural exchange demonstrate one way that scholars have progressed beyond approaching adornment merely as a set of passive symbols. In “The Yayoi-Kofun transition as seen from the exchange network of beads in the Japanese Archipelago,” Ari Tanizawa considers the role that exchange networks played in the emergence of imported glass beads and domestically produced curved beads (magatama) as status demarcating items in Late Yayoi to Early Kofun burials. Focusing on articles of adornment during a time of transition and state building in ancient Japan, Tanizawa shows how both the origin and movement of items of personal adornment affected their value and function in mortuary contexts. Tracing the parallel development of centralized distribution networks for different types of beads during a period of growing political and social complexity, she argues that changes in the placement and significance of beads in burials were linked to the establishment of a centralized distribution network focused on the Central Kinki region. Specifically, certain beads took on meaning as prestige items that were obtained from and associated with a central power and, in death, were part of the configuration of object assemblages identifying high- ranking individuals and their sociopolitical affiliations. Tanizawa’s chapter demonstrates the transcultural character of beads included in Late Yayoi and Early Kofun burials and the degree to which elites participated within networking systems that extended as far away as China and South and Southeast Asia. Karen S. Rubinson’s chapter, “Why wear dolphins? Greek imagery among the pastoralists along the Ancient Oxus,” considers the inclusion of earrings featuring imagery of dolphins and amphorae found in burials of females who likely belonged to mobile pastoralist groups living along the Oxus River (present-day Amu Darya) from the 1st century BCE through the 1st century CE. This was a period of political and cultural flux following rule by the Greco-Bactrian kingdom, which fell by 125 BCE and was the
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8 Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace easternmost extent of the spread of Hellenistic culture following Alexander the Great’s conquests of Central Asia. Rubinson focuses on these distinctive earrings, which are rare and probably not made locally but, instead, refer to the Greco-Roman world. Like other individuals buried in these cemeteries, she argues that these women adorned in death with dolphin and amphorae earrings were part of a larger group of people who were truly temporally and geographically “in-between,” members of steppe groups whose entry from the northeast brought an end to Greco-Bactrian kingdom and ultimately contributed to the consolidation of the Kushan Empire (ca. 1st century CE). In her preliminary study, Rubinson argues that these earrings would have been significant status symbols, referring back to the dominance and stability of the Classical world. Moreover, these striking items of personal adornment were likely used to assert complex social and cultural affiliations in a time and place when such facets of identity may have been contested. Like Sabatini’s study of pottery in burials from Sala Consilina referenced above (2015), Rubinson’s materials also provide interesting examples of connections between larger historical developments and local transformations. Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff focus on the clothing, weapons, equine trappings, and articles of personal adornment worn by a group of nine haniwa, sculptural terracotta figurines that were placed on top of kofun, or mounded tombs, during the first half of the 6th century in Japan. Focusing on the period directly following that surveyed by Tanizawa, Gerhart and Linduff’s chapter, “The power and authority of exotic accessories: ornamentation of human and equine haniwa at Tsukamawari Tomb 4, Gunma, Japan,” argues similarly that items of adornment were part of a modified assemblage of prestige items adopted by local chieftains. The adornments worn by human and equine haniwa from Tomb 4 at Tsukamawari refer to Chinese, Korean, and/or Steppe precedents, and were displayed by leaders to flaunt their power to possess exotic items, as well as their access to foreign military capabilities and spiritual connections (see Bausch and Tanizawa’s chapters in this volume). In addition, in form and arrangement, the haniwa appear to be presenting ritual offerings that were part of funeral and succession ceremonies to be carried out in perpetuity within the ritual space of the tomb mound. Thus, in this case, the authors were able to consider the adornments themselves, their relationship to bodies and body position, and the arrangement of figures in space in order to understand the deceased chieftain’s affinity with local mound-building communities and his political authority and ritual potency as derived from extra-local models. Gerhart and Linduff’s analysis of the haniwa as enacting rituals in perpetuity also allows us to think about the different ways in which the adornment of horses with heavily embellished tack worked in tandem with that of humans. All were part of a larger bundle of prestige items and knowledge sets important in both life and death across Central and East Asia (Miller & Brosseder 2013).
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Part III: Adornment as assemblage Early studies of adornment in ancient cultures have tended toward two approaches—investigations that focus on one class or type of artifact (Lee 2015, p. 27), or studies that examine the clothed body in its totality, without consideration of its individual components (Sørensen 1997, pp. 95–96). The first tendency leads to a fragmented sense of the clothed and adorned body, while the second obscures the relationships between individual components and the combined messages or impressions they may have been designed to effect (Sørensen 2000, p. 133). As Sørensen has noted, even when studying items of clothing and articles of adornment, it is therefore necessary to understand that specific meaning can be articulated and assigned through an object per se, through its form, design, and genealogy (object), through the manner in which particular objects are regularly found together as assemblages (combination), and the ways in which the objects are physically organised and used together (composition). (Sørensen 1997, p. 98) Chapters in this section survey a range of evidence, from material adornments to pictorial and sculptural media from protohistoric and early dynastic China, demonstrating the fruitfulness of attempting to examine the fully clothed and adorned body and its components. Each consider how individual elements, including hats, hairstyles and hair ornaments, earrings, bracelets, belts, arm bands, and other bodily adornments as well as clothing and its embellishments, were part of a larger toolkit, with individual components working together to create an individual’s “social skin” (Turner 1980). Focusing on what she has termed the “Jade Age” (Late Neolithic, 2800– 2100 BCE) China, in “Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite,” Elizabeth Childs- Johnson examines the abundant and varied jade ornaments that have been found in high-ranking burials primarily from cemeteries within the Liangzhu administrative and religious center of Mojiaoshan, present- day Jiangsu province. Like other jade items of this culture, adornments to the body featured a standardized iconography of images of spiritual power that were likely the sources from which authority and ritual influence were derived. Her systematic presentation of the full range of jade objects placed on and around the bodies of the dead shows that while certain forms do appear to have been exclusive to males, the majority of finds were found in burials of both males and females, suggesting that jade adornments of late Neolithic China primarily reflected dimensions of social, political, and ritual status. Childs-Johnson provides a useful reconstruction of a fully adorned, high-ranking male figure, complete with chunky neck and belt ornaments, embellishments to the arms, wrists, and boots, and an elaborate headdress with a fan of peacock feathers. Such composite data allow for consideration
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10 Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace of what it meant to be arrayed in heavy, polished, and luminescent jade items and, importantly, for highlighting the notion that individual jade ornaments may be most informative when viewed in relation to other like elements of the adorned body. In “Does a feather in your hat a barbarian make? Headgear and hairstyles in Han dynasty tomb murals in the Ordos,” Leslie V. Wallace examines the relationships between hairstyle, headgear, ornament, and clothing for figures featured in the landscapes and architectural settings pictured in murals lining the walls of Tomb 1 at Fenghuangshan, Inner Mongolia. Though there is little consensus on the date of the tomb or the identity of its occupant, it was likely constructed sometime between the 1st century BCE and the 2nd century CE, a period that coincides with China’s Han dynasty. Importantly, the tomb lies within a geographical nexus between Han and non- Han populations, specifically where Han military garrisons and agricultural communities were developed in an effort to secure the border. Like others before her, Wallace identifies both Han and non-Han figures pictured in the murals but, instead of aiming to pinpoint the particular identities of those groups, she focuses on these complex compositions for what they suggest about the nuanced cultural traditions adopted by those living along the frontier. In some cases, cultural distinctions through dress and adornment are clear; in others, lines are blurred suggesting the fluidity of cultural identity, which is given further shape by the placement of the figures in architectural compounds and rolling hills. To be sure, through her consideration of the placement of figures within different architectural and landscape settings in murals decorating Fenghuangshan Tomb 1, Wallace highlights space and context as important frames that illustrate social constructions of identity in tomb murals. Like Gerhart and Linduff’s study of the positioning of ornamented haniwa on top of Tsukamawari Tomb 4, her research demonstrates the utility of considering adornment, dress, posture, and gesture as situated in relation to the larger social and physical landscape (Fisher & Loren 2003, p. 225). These cases underscore the notion of both adornment and spatial settings as culturally conceived social constructs (Sørensen 2006, p. 121). Sarah Laursen, in her chapter “Dressing the dead in Jin China,” traces changes in the nature of adornments that occurred during the Jin dynasty (265–420), whose dominion was centered on the southern regions of China in the midst of a long period of political disunion. Laursen argues that the instability of the period was a factor in the choices individuals made regarding the dressed body, that these were periods when identities were being negotiated and reshaped, and that adornment and ornament were an important means of asserting new and developing facets of personal position. She surveys a range of accessories from the material and pictorial records of Jin tombs, including sleeve widths and belt sets for men and items of jewelry and hair ornaments for women. Laursen draws from the comparative context of Late Antique period Rome (4th to mid-7th century) in
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Dimensions of personal adornment 11 order to suggest various factors that may have affected the way individuals composed their personal appearances, including political position, the power and prestige of the foreign, new notions of sexual empowerment and of personal fulfillment, and desires to form visual continuities with the past.
Conclusion We intend for these chapters—which collectively assert that various kinds of adornment and alterations to the body were central to constructions of the social body as presented in death—to encourage further individual and collaborative study of personal adornment in archaeological contexts across Asia. These chapters are concerned primarily with the presentation, consideration, and initial interpretation of data that has received little attention, especially for the vast regions that make up Central Asia, and for Korea. Within the larger discourse on adornment across the ancient world, these studies reassert the notion of the dressed body as one situated in particular places, times, and contexts, and thus deeply implicated by specific cultural worlds and knowledges (Mascia-Lees 2011, p. 2). Analysis of prehistorical and early historical adornments in archaeological contexts across Asia would also benefit from further theoretical explorations of the data. As observed above, discourse on adornment and dress has, since the 1990s, shifted to considerations of the relationship between embellishments to the body and the body itself and, in particular, dress as bodily performance. As stated by Diana DePaolo Loren, “Dress is more than a surface phenomenon. Clothing and adornment do not just live on the exterior of one’s body. How a person dresses, the sense of self that a person wishes to embody, is part of his or her bodily experience” (Loren 2010, p. 9). From this perspective, ornament is approached as extensions of the self rather than mere symbols arranged on the body, thus avoiding the “reduction of bodies to cultural texts” (Turner 2003, p. xv). Ornaments can thus be conceived as materializations of lived experience, and studies can aim to probe more deeply into the intimate relationship of dress, adornments, and the corporeal body, often referred to as dimensions of “embodied identity” (Meskell & Joyce 2003; Entwistle & Wilson 2001; Meskell 2000). The potential of this approach is latent in some of the materials presented in this volume. For example, Elizabeth Childs- Johnson’s visualization of the ritual body of a Liangzhu elite male approaches what scholars are currently attempting to elaborate about the nature of the embodied individual: wearing such an array of material embellishments exaggerated the silhouette and inscribed upon the body images and dimensions of the spiritual. Adornments may have been a direct means of linking an individual to alternate realms, and of extending bodies of this world into that of the spiritual. Moreover, such rich ornamentation likely affected the way one viewed the world and engaged with others.
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12 Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace In addition, Laursen’s study of elite Jin male and female clothing and adornment draws attention to the way that head ornaments would have swayed in unison with the moving female body, and to the tinkle of belt ornaments as they hung from the waists of elite male figures. Laursen has effectively linked ornamentation of the body to gendered experience and thereby enhanced our understanding of changes in social and cultural structures during China’s Jin period. Bausch, in her discussion of Early Jōmon ear plugs, also touches upon the ways that ornament can both embellish and physically alter the body (i.e., the stretching of earlobes), thereby permanently modifying the body to mark rites of passage. In this case, the archaeological record indicates that this rite was not exclusive to female experience. These examples conjure a multi-sensory “stylization and aestheticization of the embodied existence” (Meskell & Joyce 2003, p. 43). They suggest the potential for moving beyond mere historical reconstruction and remind us that identity is not something we simply possess and wear, but rather, something we experience (Meskell & Preucel 2004, p. 124).
Note 1 As Deagan notes, Ortiz’s theories were used relatively early by Cuban archaeologists who unfortunately were fairly isolated, and it took decades for their ideas to have an impact on others; transculturation and ethnogenesis became major currents in Spanish colonial archaeology in the 1990s (Deagan 1998, pp. 28–30). It is also important to note that Ortiz’s original idea of the process of transculturation included a strong element of violence and cultural destruction, which is not present in the work of scholars cited above or in the case studies that appear in this volume.
References Barnes, R & Eicher, JB 1992, ‘Introduction,’ in R Barnes & JB Eicher (eds), Dress and gender: making and meaning, pp. 1–7. Berg, Oxford. Barthes, R 1983, The fashion system, translated by M Ward and R Howard, Hill and Wang, New York. Bergerbrant, S 2013, ‘Migration, innovation and meaning: sword depositions on Lolland, 1600–1100 BC,’ in ME Alberti & S Sabatini (eds), Exchange networks and local transformations: interaction and local change in Europe and the Mediterranean from the Bronze Age to the Iron Age, pp. 146–155. Oxbow, Oxford. Bogatyrev, P 1971, The functions of folk costume in Moravian Slovakia, Mouton, The Hague. Brosseder, U 2011, ‘Belt plaques as an indicator of east-west relations in the Eurasian Steppe,’ in U Brosseder & BK Miller (eds), Xiongnu archaeology: multidisciplinary perspectives of the first Steppe empires in Asia, pp. 349–424. Bonn, Vor-und Frühgeschichtliche Archäologie, Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität Bonn, Bonn. Butler, J 1990, Gender trouble: feminism and the subversion of identity, Routledge, New York. Castile, R & Shangraw, CF, et al. 1992, Beauty, wealth, and power: jewels and ornaments of Asia, Asian Art Museum, San Francisco.
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Dimensions of personal adornment 13 Clark, G 1986, Symbols of excellence: precious materials as expressions of status, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Cleland, L, Harlow, M & Llewellyn-Jones, L (eds) 2005, The clothed body in the ancient world, Oxbow Books, Oxford. Cliffe, S 2017, The social life of kimono: Japanese fashion past and present, Bloomsbury Academic, London and New York. Colburn, CS & Heyn, MK (eds) 2008, Reading a dynamic canvas: adornment in the ancient Mediterranean world, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, Newcastle upon Tyne. Deagan, K 1998, ‘Transculturation and Spanish American ethnogenesis: the archaeological legacy of the Quincentenary,’ in JG Cusick (ed), Studies in culture contact: interaction, culture change, pp. 23–43. Center for Archaeological Investigations, Occasional Paper No. 25. Southern Illinois University, Carbondale. Ebersole, GL 1998, ‘Long black hair like a seat cushion: hair symbolism in Japanese popular religion,’ in A Hiltebeital & BD Miller (eds), Hair: its power and meaning in Asian cultures, pp. 75–103. State University of New York Press, Albany. Entwistle, J & Wilson, E (eds) 2001, Body dressing, Berg, Oxford and New York. Finnane, A 2008, Changing clothes in China: fashion, history, nation, Columbia University Press, New York. Fisher, G & Loren, DD 2003, ‘Embodying identity in archaeology: introduction,’ Cambridge Archaeological Journal, vol. 13, no. 2, pp. 225–230. Gansell, AR 2007, ‘Identity and adornment in the third- millennium BC Meso potamian “Royal Cemetery” at Ur,’ Cambridge Archaeological Journal, vol. 17, no. 1, pp. 1–19. Gao, C 2001, Zhongguo fushi ming wu kao 中國服飾名物考 (An Examination of Terms for Clothing and Adornment in China), Shanghai wenhua chubanhe, Shanghai. Green, J 2007, ‘Anklets and the social construction of gender in the Late Bronze and Early Iron Age southern Levant,’ in S Hamilton, R Whitehouse, & KI Wright (eds), Archaeology and women: ancient and modern Issues, pp. 283–331. Left Coast Press, Walnut Creek, CA. Hamamoto, T 2004, Nazotoki akusesarī ga kieta Nihonshi 謎解き: アクセサリーが消えた日本史 (Solving the Riddle: How Accessories Disappeared in Japanese History), Kōbunsha Shinsho, Tokyo. Hiltebeitel, A & Miller, BD (eds) 1998, Hair: its power and meaning in Asian cultures, State University of New York Press, Albany. Hua, Mei 2001, Fushi yu Zhongguo wenhua 服飾與中國文化 (Clothing and Chinese Culture), Renmin Chubanshe, Beijing. Hume, L 2013, The religious life of dress: global fashion and faith, Bloomsbury, London. Inoue, Y, Tsuyuki, H, & Seki, A 2008, Nihon sōshingushi: juerī to akusesarī no ayumi karābanカラー版日本装身具史: ジュエリーとアクセサリーの歩み (The Concise History of Jewellery and Accessory in Japan (Colour edition), Bijutsu Shuppansha, Tokyo. Joyce, RA 2008, Ancient bodies, ancient lives: sex, gender, and archaeology, Thames & Hudson, New York. Lee, MM 2015, Body, dress, and identity in ancient Greece, Cambridge University Press, New York. Lingley, KA 2010, ‘Naturalizing the exotic: on the changing meanings of ethnic dress in medieval China,’ Ars Orientalis, vol. 38, pp. 50–80.
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14 Sheri A. Lullo and Leslie V. Wallace Lingley, KA 2007, Excelling the work of Heaven: personal adornment from China, University of Hawai’i Art Gallery, Honololu. Loren, DD 2010, The archaeology of clothing and bodily adornment in colonial America, University Press of Florida, Gainesville. Lullo, S 2016, ‘Making up status and authority: practices of beautification in Warring States through Han Dynasty (5th century BCE–3rd century CE) China,’ Fashion Theory, vol. 20, no. 4, pp. 415–440. Marcus, MI 1993, ‘Incorporating the body: adornment, gender, and social identity in ancient Iran,’ Cambridge Archaeological Journal, vol. 3, no. 22, pp. 157–178. Mascia-Lees, FE 2011, ‘Introduction,’ in FE Mascia-Lees (ed), A companion to the anthropology of the body and embodiment, pp. 1–2. Wiley–Blackwell, Chichester, West Sussex. Meskell, L 1999, Archaeologies of social life, Blackwell Publishing, Oxford. Meskell, L 2000, ‘Writing the body in archaeology,’ in AE Rautman (ed), Reading the body: representations and remains in the archaeological record, pp. 13–21. University of Pennsylvania Press, Philadelphia. Meskell, LM & Preucel, RW 2004, ‘Identities,’ in LM Meskell & RW Preucel (eds), A Companion to Social Archaeology, pp. 121–141. Blackwell Publishing, Malden. Meskell, LM & Joyce, RJ 2003, Embodied lives: figuring Ancient Maya and Egyptian experience, Routledge, London and New York. Miller, BK & Brosseder, U 2013, ‘Beasts of the north: global and local dynamics as seen in horse ornaments of the Steppe elites,’ Asian Archaeology, vol. 1, pp. 94–112. Nara Joshi Daigaku seiki COE Puroguramu, Kodai Nihon Keisei no Tokushitsu Kaimei no Kenkyū Kyōiku Kyoten 2008, Kodai Nihon no shihai to bunka 古代日本の支配と文化 (Domination and Culture in Ancient Japan), Nara Joshi Daigaku 21-seiki COE Puroguramu, Kodai Nihon Keisei no Tokushitsu Kaimei no Kenkyū Kyōiku Kyoten, Nara. Orr, H & Looper, MG (eds) 2014, Wearing culture: dress and regalia in early Mesoamerica and Central America, University Press of Colorado, Boulder. Ortiz, F 1995, Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco and Sugar, Duke University Press, Durham, NC. Roach, ME & Eicher, JB 1965, Dress, adornment, and the social order, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York. Roach, ME & Eicher, JB 2007, ‘The Language of Personal Adornment,’ in M Barnard (ed), Fashion Theory: A Reader, pp. 109–121. Routledge, London and New York. Sabatini, S 2015, ‘Tracing transculturality in burial contexts: the case of Sala Consilina, Southern Italy,’ in P Suchowska-Ducke, SS Reiter, & H Vandkilde (eds), Forging identities: the mobility of culture in Bronze Age Europe, pp. 244–255. Report from a Marie Curie project 2009–2012 with concluding conference at Aarhus University, Moesgaard 2012. Del 2, (BAR Int. s. 2771). Sabatini, S 2013, ‘Local and transcultural burial practices in Northern Europe in the Late Bronze Age: face, house and face/door urns, in ME Alberti & S Sarbatini (eds), Exchange Networks and Local Transformation, pp. 134–145. Oxbow, Oxford. So, JF 1995, ‘Belt ornaments and fasteners,’ in JF So & E Bunker (eds), Traders and raiders on China’s northern frontier, pp. 77–85. University of Washington Press, Seattle. Sørensen, MS 2006, ‘Gender, things, and material culture,’ in SM Nelson (ed), Handbook of gender archaeology, pp. 105–135. AltaMira Press, Lanham, MD. Sørensen, MS 2000, Gender archaeology, Polity Press, Cambridge.
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Dimensions of personal adornment 15 Sørensen, MS 1997, ‘Reading dress: the construction of social categories and identities in Bronze Age Europe,’ Journal of European Archaeology, vol. 5, no. 1, pp. 93–114. Stockhammer, PW 2012, ‘Performing the practice turn in archaeology,’ Transcultural Studies, no. 1, pp 7–42. Sun, Ji 2008, Handai wuzhi ziliao tushuo 漢代物質資料圖說 (An Illustrated Guide to the Material Culture of the Han Dynasty), Shanghai guji chubanshe, Shanghai; first published in 1990 by Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Turner, BS 2003, ‘Forward: the phenomenology of lived experience,’ in LM Meskell & RJ Joyce, Embodied lives: figuring ancient Maya and Egyptian experience, pp. xiii-xx. Routledge, London and New York. Turner, T 1980, ‘The social skin,’ in J Cherfas & R Lewin (eds), Not work alone: A cross-cultural view of activities superfluous to survival, pp. 112–140. Temple Smith, London. Vicary, T & Vollmer, J (eds) 2010, Encyclopedia of world dress and fashion, volume 6, East Asia, Oxford University Press, Oxford. White, JM & Bunker, EC 1994, Adornment for eternity: status and rank in Chinese ornament, Denver Art Museum in Association with Wood Publishing Company, Denver. Wu, J 2009, Chinese Fashion from Mao to Now. Bloomsbury, Oxford and New York.
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Part I
Gender and social status
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2 Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden Perceptions of Early Jōmon hunter-gatherer gender and identities Ilona R. Bausch Throughout the Jōmon 縄文 period (ca 13,500–400 BCE), the prehistoric inhabitants of the Japanese archipelago adorned their hair, ears, neck, hands, ankles, and hips with ornaments made from a wide variety of materials. For resourceful hunter-gatherers, most of these were relatively accessible, such as locally available wood, animal or fish bones, shells, stone, and clay; others were perhaps acquired at more personal risk during the hunt, such as pendants made of boar tusks or bear teeth. Materials such as exotic shells used to make bracelets and jadeite or amber used to make pendants, were rarer and acquired via long-distance exchange networks. Jōmon peoples were hunters, fishers, and gatherers, who occasionally also practiced some degree of horticulture; moreover, they are characterized by one of the world’s oldest ceramic traditions and lacquer-ware technologies. They are generally considered to be “complex foragers,” but this assessment is based more on economic scheduling and elaborate material culture than on social differentiation, for which there is comparatively little evidence (e.g. Bausch 2016; Barnes 2015; Aikens et al. 2009; Kaner 2009; Pearson 2007; Habu 2004; Kobayashi 2004; Bausch 2003). On the basis of pottery classifications, the Jōmon period is chronologically subdivided into six major phases (see Table 2.1). Considering the longevity of the Jōmon period and the geography of Japan, which stretches over several climatological zones with a variety of ecological landscapes and resources, it is important to keep in mind the temporal and regional variability in material culture, sociocultural practices, and levels of social complexity. Thus, Jōmon practices of adornment might include both regional and temporal variations (e.g Esaka 1988, pp. 5–81; Habu 2004, pp. 160–162).1 For information on Early Jōmon adornment practices, we can draw upon the ornaments themselves, their wider find contexts, and rare cases of well- preserved human remains found in situ with grave goods.2 Most sites contain non- perishable ornaments (e.g. stone pendants or earrings and clay ear ornaments), scattered over the sites or in dwelling pits or pit burials. However, preservation of organic materials is rare in Japan due to the volcanic, acidic soil, and recovery is limited to two very specific environmental conditions: coastal kaizuka 貝塚 shell middens formed around and ultimately
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20 Ilona R. Bausch Table 2.1 Jōmon periodization in East Japan (after Barnes 2015, p. 23) Incipient Jōmon Initial Early Middle Late Final
13,350–10,550 cal. BCE 10,550–5050 5050–3520 3520–2470 2470–1250 1250–970
on top of settlements, creating conditions where the calcium from the shells staved off decay, or water-logged wetland sites where artifacts were hermetically sealed from oxygen. Shell midden sites usually contain pit burials and can provide vital information on Jōmon mortuary practices allowing for the analysis of the actual human remains and associated funerary goods, including adornments made of perishable materials such as shell, animal teeth or bone, or wood covered in lacquer (e.g. Yamada 2008; Habu 2004, pp. 159–179; Okamura 1993). Well-preserved individual skeletal material may reveal body modification practices such as dental mutilation (e.g. Harunari 1986). Burials with adornments are extremely rare during the Early Jōmon, even at sites with well-preserved remains. This chapter will focus on adornments during the Early Jōmon, introducing archaeological evidence from the recently excavated Odake Shell Midden 小竹貝塚 (ca. 3400– 2900 BCE), where adornments, including stone slit earrings, shell or bone ornaments, and animal tooth pendants have been found in association with human remains (see Figure 2.1 for a map of major sites referenced in this chapter). Previous scholarship on the study of Late and Final Jōmon adornment has focused on the role adornment played in: (1) establishing community or lineage group membership; (2) expressing gender and age-based status; or (3) communicating achieved or ascribed social prestige (e.g. Yamada 2008; Okamura 1993; Harunari 1986; Okamoto 1975). However, the dominant focus for the study of adornment during the Early Jōmon is based on gender differentiation, with “male” adornments interpreted as signifying skill, prestige, or leadership and “female” ones as markers of sexual maturity and reproduction. A description of the Early Jōmon grave goods from the Odake Shell Midden in “Excavations in the Japanese Archipelago 2015,” published by the Agency of Cultural Affairs and accompanying the traveling exhibition by the same name aimed at the general public, illustrates this point: There were differences based on sex for the grave goods, with items symbolizing strength for males, such as polished stone axes, beads made from tusks, or thrusting implements of bone or antler, and personal ornaments for females, such as slit-disc earrings or pendants of bone or antler. (Takanashi 2015, p. 9; emphasis mine)
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Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden 21
Figure 2.1 Distribution map of East Asian sites mentioned in Chapter 2 (including footnotes 7 and 13): (1) Odake, (2) Hiraoka, (3) Kou, (4) Miyano, (5) Janghang, (6) Xinglongwa, (7) Xinglonggou, and (8) Tsukumo. The template for the map was drawn by Noriyuki Shirai and is used with his permission.
While in Europe and the United States gender archeology has highlighted gender-biased assumptions since the 1980s (e.g., Nelson & Rosen-Ayalon 2002; Gero & Conkey 1991), Ikawa- Smith (2002) and Habu (2004, pp. 24–25) have criticized a comparative lack of such awareness within Japanese archeology, which to this day is overwhelmingly practiced by male archaeologists. This paper aims to move beyond these traditional gendered interpretations of articles of adornment by focusing on materials from Odake.
Trends in global research on prehistoric adornment practices I will first foreground my analysis of adornments from the Odake Shell Midden site by introducing recent case studies of prehistoric adornments from mortuary contexts in East Asia and Europe. Analysis of these materials
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22 Ilona R. Bausch provides useful cross- cultural approaches in interpreting archaeological data on adornment practices and its relationship to gender and identity in the context of (relatively) egalitarian prehistoric hunter-gatherer societies. Naturally, “egalitarian” does not mean that everyone was equal, nor does it rule out that aspects of social identity could be overlapping or constantly renegotiated, particularly those related to age and to important life events, rites of passage, or personal achievements and the social prestige that such roles would confer. Recent foci on prehistoric mortuary adornments from neighboring East Asian cultures contemporaneous with the Jōmon include: the Early Neolithic Xinglongwa 興隆洼 (ca. 6200– 5400 BCE) in Northeast China, and the Chulmun 櫛文 (ca. 8000–1500 BCE) on the Korean Peninsula. Relevant approaches to Mesolithic adornment practices from Europe incorporate mortuary evidence from Northwest Europe, Brittany, and Scandinavia. Adornments from neighboring East Asian continental cultures The Early Neolithic Xinglongwa (Liaoning, China), is one of the world’s oldest jade cultures creating nephrite slit earrings. Yang, Liu, and Tang (2007) have examined Xinglongwa jade adornments looking at the type-site settlements of Xinglongwa and Xinglonggou 興隆溝 that include burials with nephrite objects. Although the Xinglongwa practiced incipient millet farming, hunting continued to play a vital role in daily and ceremonial life. Nephrite slit rings as “personal adornments” are limited to a few rare and prestigious residential burials that were likely those of “leading figures of the communities” (Yang et al. 2007, p. 38). Pairs of symmetrical split rings were discovered at ear height (which confirms their probable use as ear adornment), and, “probably functioned to signify the social rank, status, and identity” of the adult (generally male) occupant. However, in one intriguing case (Tomb 4 at Xinglonggou), an earring was found embedded in the eye socket of a girl, perhaps indicating an eye disease and ritually “marking the eye.” Similar practices of sympathetic magic through the socio-ritual power of jade have been recorded in Chinese historical accounts (Yang et al. 2007, pp. 12; 39; 257–260). The new type of ornament and its manufacturing technology spread over the East Asian continent, including the Korean Peninsula and Japan, becoming ubiquitous throughout the Japanese archipelago by the fifth millennium BCE (e.g. Lee 2017; Yang et al. 2007; Fujita 2006; 1989). Chulmun foragers from the Korean Peninsula (ca. 8000– 1500 BCE) interacted with neighboring regions, including the Xinglongwa cultural sphere and Northern Kyushu Jōmon. Chulmun adornment types show commonalities with both areas, including stone slit earrings, shell bracelets, and perforated animal teeth (Lee 2017; Bausch 2016; Shin et al. 2012; Kim 2011). The well-preserved Early Neolithic Chulmun cemetery at Janghang 獐項 (Gadeok Island, Pusan, ca. 5200–4400 cal BCE) yielded 48 sets of
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Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden 23 human remains, including several with adornments, such as nephrite-like pendants and tubular beads, engraved bone objects, perforated shark teeth, and shell bracelets. Analysis of these materials focuses mainly on identifying kinship and incipient forms of social differentiation (Lee 2017, p. 476; Kim 2011). Mesolithic hunter-gatherer cultures in Europe Adornments associated with human remains in Mesolithic Europe consist of large quantities of small ornamental beads fashioned from organic materials such as animal teeth or shells that were probably sewn onto clothing. Research indicates some gender-and age- related differentiation in the usage of these beads. At the Mesolithic cemetery sites of Téviec and Hoëdic (Brittany, France, ca. 6th millennium BCE), men and women predominantly were adorned with different types of shell that were also worn in a different way; children and old people also had considerably less adornments (Bradley 1997; Shulting 1996; Taborin 1974, cited in Hodder 1990). In contrast, at the Late Mesolithic Scandinavian cemeteries of Vedbaek and Skateholm (ca. 5th millennium BCE), deer- tooth pendants were almost exclusively associated with women (Fowler 2004; Bradley 1997; Hodder 1990). These adornments are often interpreted as talismanic and reflective of the animistic and totemic worldview of Mesolithic hunter-gatherers and their interconnectedness with the natural world (Fowler 2004; Bradley 1997; Schulting 1996). Pendants and other portable art made of engraved and decorated amber, antler, bone, and stone were also common in northern and northwestern Europe, but these are almost never deposited in burials (Nash 2001; Hodder 1990). Recent analytical approaches dealing with prehistoric beads and pendants focus on the life histories of objects, and the implications for social relations and identities (e.g. Bar-Yosef Mayer et al. 2017). Beads, due to their fractal nature, potentially function as both individual items and as parts of a whole, and as such can be removed and redistributed to form a new ensemble. Various individuals may have contributed beads to construct a new composite (i.e. necklace), representing and reproducing social relations, as has been suggested for animal-tooth pendant adornments in Mesolithic Europe (Fowler 2004, pp. 137–139). Use wear analysis applications (e.g. Gijn 2017) demonstrate how the use and meaning behind adornments found in funerary contexts changes over time along with social and ontological structures, reflecting shifting concepts of individual versus group identity.3 In summary, global interpretations on adornment practices in prehistoric societies vary, with interpretations seeing adornments as “status indicators;” “sympathetic magic;” “expressions of totemic group identity;” “protective amulets warding off evil;” “markers of gender-based symbolic identity;” and “inter-communal signifiers of shared symbolic structures.” While global interpretations on prehistoric adornment practices do share a strong focus
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24 Ilona R. Bausch on gendered identity, it is clear from these examples that other intersecting identities may include age, health, familial, or group affiliation, and occupational specialization (e.g. subsistence roles, religious expertise, and overall leadership). Regional and temporal variability in any one culture is substantial, and adornment practices and their social and symbolic significance are dynamic and change over time.
Case study: The Odake Shell Midden The Odake Shell Midden in Toyama prefecture (excavated in 2009–2010) is one of the largest known Early Jōmon sites along the coast of the Sea of Japan. The site’s long chronology (ca. 4500–3500 BCE) is divided into four periods. Occupied at the time of the Climatic Optimum with maximum sea levels, the settlement was located on the junction between a lagoon and the Kureha Hills, allowing for an optimal exploitation of various subsistence resources (Takanashi 2015).4 This settlement was remarkably well-connected to communities in other regions, as seen from the occurrence of interregional pottery styles, lacquered pottery, and especially the presence of exotic adornment materials from highly restricted source areas, such as amber, jadeitite, and a shell bracelet made of true limpet (ootsutanoha オオツタノハ, Patella flexuosa optima), a flattened, cone-shaped shell (Figure 2.2).5 The site consists of a large midden, a dwelling area, a tasks area, and a cemetery. The latter took up the majority of the excavated surface, yielding 91 remarkably well-preserved human burials of all ages and genders (and 21 dog burials). Young adults (15–29 years old) make up the largest age group at the cemetery. Almost all pits contain flexed burials, and there are no major distinctions in location or structure to indicate social differentiation (Takanashi 2015). However, not all remains are equally well preserved, and some contexts were disturbed. Osteological analysis by Sakaue et al. (2014) also discovered an unusual trend: a majority of burials (including our five adorned ones) contain not only the remains of the interred individual, but a few spare bone parts, with some burials containing bones belonging to up to four individuals.6 Adornments at Odake The site is significant for its number and variety of ornament types (Figure 2.2): hundreds of items, including stone slit earrings, bone or tooth pendants (including those made of the teeth of fearsome, predatory animals, such as sharks, bears, wolves, and boars), bone hairpins, stone beads, shell objects (including shell bracelets and beads), and a few clay ear spools (which would eventually replace slit earrings in popularity), and wooden hair combs. Remarkably, the overwhelming majority of adornments were found scattered across the settlement and only a tiny proportion was deposited in direct association with human remains that are divided over five burials, each of which is detailed below. The following data is based on
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Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden 25
Figure 2.2 Overview of the representative adornment types at Odake: (a) shell bracelets (above: ubiquitous bivalve clam; below: exotic true limpet, broken), (b) shark-tooth pendant, (c) hair ornaments (wood and bone), (d) decorated bone pendant, (e) stone slit earrings, (f) stone beads and pendants, (g) oldest worked jadeite piece, (h) amber fragment, (i) animaltusk pendants, (j) bone or shell beads. Photograph by author; used with permission of the Toyama Prefectural Center for Archaeological Operations.
Machida et al. 2014 (excavation site report Vol. 1; a summary can be found in Table 2.2), while the human bone analysis is from Sakaue et al. (2014; site report Vol. 3). It is important to keep in mind that accurate determination of biological sex in skeletal remains is not always straightforward, especially without corroborating use of DNA: for various reasons, markers of sexual dimorphism (e.g. pelvis, chin and brow ridge, height) can show considerable variability among male and female samples (Pearson 2003, pp. 95–97). Until the 1970s, the error margin was biased towards males by 12 percent (Weiss 1972, cited in Pearson). This is a widely recognized problem in funerary archeology, and while, thanks to advancements in the field of human osteology, the designations at Odake itself are likely to be relatively reliable (and regarded as such here), there are some implications for general discourse on Jōmon gender and adornment, which is partially founded on research from the 1920s onward. Finally, of course gender is not merely biological, but
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26 Ilona R. Bausch Table 2.2 Burials with in-situ adornment funerary goods at Odake Shell Midden based on the excavation report by Machida (ed) 2014; Machida 2015, p. 33 Phase tomb/ Sex Age group body # II
71
F
III
14
M
IV
25
F
IV
26
M
IV
29
F
elderly (>50 yrs) middle age (30~49 yrs)
young adult (15~29 yrs) young adult (15~29 yrs)
adult (age unknown)
Adornments (& their location on the body)
Other burial characteristics/ grave goods
19 bird-bone beads (chest area) 2 perforated wolf canine 2 polished tooth pendants; 1 pipe- adzes, 1 shaped shell bead, 1 whetstone curved antler pendant (chest area) 2 stone slit earrings (either side of skull) 2 perforated bear-tooth buried together pendants; 1 stone tanged with child scraper (chest area) #79: c. 10yrs, sex unknown 1 decorated animal-bone pendant (beneath jaw)
culturally constructed and situational; it intersects with and is shaped by multiple other types of identities, such as life cycle and age-based expertise. Tomb 14 The burial with the most adornments belonged to a middle-aged man (Tomb 14, Figure 2.3) who, at 168.8 cm, was remarkably tall for Jōmon standards and was buried with polished adzes and other stone tools. Two perforated wolf-tooth pendants (length 3.5 and 3.75 cm), and two pendants made of shell (length 5.6 cm) and antler (3.1 cm), respectively, were located at his chest, presumably strung together. The man’s lower legs were not preserved, but Sakaue et al. note that in addition to extraordinary height, his bones and musculature were exceedingly well developed; particularly upper arm and femur on the right side. Musculoskeletal stress markers on his right shoulder and bregma indicate activity patterns involving transport of heavy loads. Tomb 26 Two large, neatly perforated and well-polished bear-tooth pendants (length 5.8 and 6.0 cm) were found in a burial from the fourth and final occupation phase, at the chest area of a young adult male (Tomb 26; Figure 2.4), together with a well-made and intact tanged stone scraper. The tomb of a ten-year old
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Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden 27
Figure 2.3 Odake Tomb 14: male adult with wolf-tooth, shell, and antler pendants. Adapted from Machida 2014, p. 221.
child (Tomb 79) who shared his grave did not possess any goods. The young man was of average height and slender build, with rather thin limb bones, but well-developed shoulder and arm muscles. Moreover, musculoskeletal stress markers include a lower body accustomed to a “squatting” position, and thickened bregma indicative of carrying heavy loads. Periostitis in one lower leg also indicates extensive mobility. Tomb 71 The oldest adorned burial, from the second occupational phase, contained an elderly woman (Tomb 71, Figure 2.5) interred with 19 beads made of bird bone at her neck, probably originally strung together to form a necklace. The pipe-shaped beads were cut into different sizes (1.8–3.8 cm long) and polished; six were decorated with three engraved bands. The beads seem relatively uniform in type and manufacture, with six of the larger beads cut, polished, and decorated in similar ways; therefore, they were probably manufactured
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28 Ilona R. Bausch
Figure 2.4 Odake Tomb 26: young male with two perforated bear-tooth pendants. Adapted from Machida 2014, p. 231.
by one person—possibly the woman herself. Musculoskeletal stress markers show a thickened bregma, common squatting position, and well-developed upper-body musculature. Venerable at over fifty years old, the woman also suffered from several painful ailments, such as arthrosis in shoulder, elbow, and wrists, two dental cavities, and possibly a tooth infection. Tomb 29 Another adult woman, age unknown, was buried with an animal-bone pendant (10.9 cm long, flat, decorated with a pattern of small drilled holes, Figure 2.5) at her neck. The burial was incomplete, having been disturbed. Her bones were thin, but her upper and especially lower arm muscles were well-developed. She showed severe dental attrition, probably due to repetitive chewing, and one decayed tooth. She had been badly injured and had a fractured shoulder blade and possibly a knee injury. An arrowhead was found nearby, but it is unclear whether this was an intentional burial good.
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newgenrtpdf
Figure 2.5 Odake Tomb 71: elderly female with bird-bone bead necklaces; and Tomb 29: an adult female with a decorated bone pendant. Adapted from Machida 2014, pp. 220 and 231.
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30 Ilona R. Bausch Tomb 25 Finally, Tomb 25, which dates to the final occupation phase at Odake, contained a young woman, 15–29 years of age (Figure 2.6), buried with a pair of stone slit earrings at either side of her jaw, presumably attached to her earlobes. Both earrings are almost entirely intact, but of different colors, material, and size: one was made of translucent olive-gray soapstone (diameter 3.35 cm); the other was made from weathered gray-white aragonite (diameter 3.78 cm) with a slightly chipped surface. Scars on the girl’s pelvis indicate that she had given birth; the “extra” bones from three individuals added to her burial included a perinatal child. Her lower arms and musculature were well-developed, but her limb bones are generally gracile, and she had six dental cavities.
Discussion Various interpretative accounts of Odake—a report in the journal Kikan Kokogaku 季刊考古学, and two publications aimed at the general public— specifically describe the burial styles and grave goods of Odake Shell Midden in terms of gender roles: men are more likely to have a stone covering their bodies and are buried with tanged knives, polished adzes, whetstones, and animal-tooth pendants, while women have more flexed burials, plant- processing tools, bone beads, and stone slit earrings (Machida 2015; Nakao 2015; Takanashi 2015). The pendants made of perforated animal teeth (wolf and bear, respectively) are described as “masculine adornments for hunters; [intended to] proudly display one’s own strength (hunting skills), as well as invoke a predator’s power” (Nakao 2015, p. 49). In the unique case of the elderly woman buried with the processed bird-bone necklace, it is proposed that this adornment probably was not “for merely stylish purposes,” but also signaled her special position and status in society (Nakao 2015, p. 50). Stone slit earrings are characterized as “female adornments;” moreover, the different colors and materials of the pair buried with the young woman are said to hold a deeper social meaning possibly reflecting rites of passage, or a customary gift exchange (Nakao 2015, p. 49).7 The above interpretation of adornments at Odake are based on preexisting gendered theories. The following section evaluates such interpretations within the context of Early Jōmon society and considers adornment practices at Odake within a wider context of egalitarian forager societies. Stone slit earring ornaments as “female” adornments Jōmon stone slit earrings (ketsujō mimikazari 玦状耳飾) usually are interpreted as an exclusively female adornment (e.g. Yoneda 2006, p. 22; Fujita 1989; Nishiguchi 1983). This can be traced back to the 1917–1918 excavations of the Kou 国府 site in Kawachi 河内, Osaka, which featured
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Figure 2.6 Odake Tomb 25: young female wearing a pair of stone slit earrings. Adapted from Machida 2014, p. 231.
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32 Ilona R. Bausch well-preserved human remains and burial goods. Six of the Early Jōmon burials each contained a pair of earrings; in one case the earrings were clearly positioned on either side of the skull, at earlobe height. Ogushi first proposed the “female earring” hypothesis in 1920, based on the Kou evidence and supported by his discovery of an antler earring inside a female burial at the Late Jōmon Tsukumo Shell Midden 津雲貝塚, in Okayama. His conclusions were further supported in 1922 by Umehara’s (partial mis-) identification of three of the Kou skeletons wearing earrings as female.8 Over time the hypothesis was expanded using archaeological and ethnographic examples of East Asian female adornment practices.9 However, the data from Kou and Odake implies that age was far more of a determinant than gender as to who was buried wearing earrings. At both sites, earrings were interred only with individuals between the ages of 15–50. This is not in itself surprising: in many societies, reaching a certain age or life cycle is crucial in attaining personhood (Clarke & Wilkie 2006). Customs may vary from region to region (and gender may have been a prerequisite factor at Odake), but this suggests that: (1) earrings as adornments were linked to specific age groups; (2) earrings may have been connected to rites of passage rituals signifying an individual’s adulthood, marriage, and sexual reproduction; and (3) the different materials of the mismatched pairs of earrings might symbolize the joining of two communities. Animal teeth and bone pendants as “male” adornments Ornaments made of animal bone— particularly pendants made of deer antler, perforated boar tusks, or bear or shark teeth—were used throughout the Jōmon. It is generally agreed that, as a talisman imbued with the power of these animals, such adornments provide the wearer with special spiritual strength. First proposed by Kono in 1929, the concept of pendants made from predatory animal bones and teeth as masculine trophies, showcasing male prestige and skills in hunting, fishing, and overall leadership, continues to be the basis of more recent interpretations (Okamura 1993, pp. 69–70). Identification of bone ornaments with hunters, that is, prestigious male adults, continues to enjoy popularity among Jōmon archaeologists (e.g. Esaka 1988, pp. 3–4), although in most cases these ornaments are recovered from much later burials.10 Gender-based labor division and adornment among egalitarian hunter-gatherers Hypotheses on Jōmon stone slit earrings and bone ornaments are founded upon the observations of pioneering pre–World War Two archaeologists, who still lacked the knowledge of regional chronologies, and who conflated developments from different phases and regions. The next layer of gendered interpretations of Jōmon adornments is formed by postwar archaeological
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Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden 33 discourse, which—as Ikawa-Smith (2002, pp. 236–237) and Habu (2004, pp. 138– 141) have pointed out— combines an ethnographic approach heavily infused with classical Marxist ideas concerning the “ancient family,” “primitive society,” and its matriarchal character. For research on mortuary (and by extension, adornment) practices, this means a strong focus on the, “organization of labor, kinship structure, and rules of post-marital residence” (Habu 2004, p. 141). For example, Okamoto (1975) introduced theoretical discourse on strict differentiation in gender roles: he posited that, in the context of Jōmon hunter-gatherer society, males hunt, fish, and carry out heavy work, while females perform lighter tasks such as gathering plant foods, processing food, and bearing and raising children (Habu 2004, pp. 138–140).11 Even in recent interpretations of Early Jōmon adornment, the main focus is clearly still on identifying the organization of labor from a gendered perspective: men are regarded as active, exclusively responsible for heavy, dangerous but also prestigious tasks, such as hunting and leading, whereas women are passive and confined to domestic settings with their roles being that of wife and mother. Interpretations of gender- based labor divisions at Odake are mostly supported by the bioarchaeological data: male skeletons such as those in Tombs 14 and 26 generally show both the activity-related injuries and musculoskeletal marker patterns that are consistent with hunting, fishing, and carrying loads such as butchered game. Moreover, male musculoskeletal marker patterns also indicate mobility, consistent with the crucial role that long-distance exchange networks played in the Jōmon economy (e.g. Pearson 2007; Habu 2004; Bausch 2003). This is also corroborated by general ethnographic evidence: as hunters must go on lengthy and distant expeditions to secure sufficient prey, they frequently combine hunting and trading roles, and are regarded as heroes for venturing out into the dangerous unknown. This is true not only because they bring back precious protein but also news and exotic goods (Helms 1988). In hunter-gatherer societies, women’s musculoskeletal marker patterns differ in several ways and demonstrate heavy and frequent use of lower arm movement consistent with plant food gathering and processing and pottery production.12 However, ethnographic analogies demonstrate that it is common for women to hunt, too; particularly birds and smaller game animals with less risk of pursuit failure (Brumbach & Jarvenpa 2006; Bird 1999). Two clues suggest that this may have been the case at Odake. The older woman of Tomb 71 shared with male “hunters” a strong upper body musculature, bregma thickening, and habitual squatting position, and wore a necklace made of bird-bone beads. This raises the possibility that she acquired her bird-bone beads by herself, based on her personal hunting skills, or played a major role in organizing such subsistence activities. In that case, her beads might reflect such achievements. One type of traumatic injury typically associated with male hunting activities (cf. Momoi 2015) was also sustained by the woman in Tomb 29 whose body coincidentally was also adorned with a (decorated) bone ornament.13
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34 Ilona R. Bausch
Conclusion Early Jōmon adornments have traditionally been presented as either “male,” signifying personal skill in hunting or leadership, or as “female,” symbolizing different roles relating to marriage and sexual reproduction. Such interpretations are not always wrong per se, but somewhat reductive, as this chapter has shown. Unlike the European Mesolithic cases in Scandinavia where deer-tooth adornments were a regular feature of female burials, adornments deposited within Early Jōmon burials are very rare for either sex. This suggests that for the people buried at Odake, wearing portable adornments was not considered a prerequisite for recognition of one’s personhood, experiences, affiliation, or social status in the afterlife. On the other hand, it is not impossible that essential information about multiple layers of identity was literally encoded on skin through tattooing, as such practices are suggested in depictions on later Jōmon clay figurines (Kaner 2009). The limited distribution over time and the varied characteristics of the adorned individuals also suggest that adornment was not exclusively associated with political leadership, nor is there a visible hierarchy based on gender. However, age does seem to be a determinant: all adornments were found with sexually mature adults, both male and female, who were biologically able to produce and/or raise children. The contexts of the two junior cases are revealing: the young woman with the earrings had given birth (or died trying), and the young man had been buried together with a child (whether his own or a sibling seems irrelevant as the shared grave suggests that he was a caregiver). The social value of the adornments in all five graves seems to reflect that these individuals were “productive members of the community” and that adornments signifying socially or biologically reproductive roles were not necessarily limited to women. The materials presented in this case study suggest that the construction of a life history of Jōmon adornments charting changes in their function and possible meanings over time might prove a fruitful mode of further inquiry. Funerary goods may involve personal objects the deceased owned or valued during their lifetime, or may have included gifts assembled post-mortem, representing the regard of the mourners towards that individual, or merely may have reflected the prevailing worldviews, hierarchies, and social norms (e.g. Parker-Pearson 2003). Perhaps a specific ornament was intended for a very specific purpose, such as a funerary gift or ceremonial object. Or was it handed down over several generations before ending its use life as a funerary item or discarded object? Were adornments made of enduring materials, repaired to reflect their continued importance—or recycled, to embody changing cosmologies and social structures? To explore such life histories, closer examination of the adornments through use-wear analysis is the logical next step.
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Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden 35
Notes 1 The greatest diversity in adornment types occurred during the Late and Final Jōmon, accompanying an increase in ceremonial practices. Multiple types of ornaments are often found in a single burial, and large quantities of articles of adornment are often limited to only a few burials. This has given rise to the theory that some extent of social differentiation developed during the Late Jōmon, (e.g. Kobayashi 2004; Nakamura 2000), an interpretation that remains controversial (e.g. Yamada 2008; Kinoshita 2000). In any case, social values in the usage and meaning of adornments undeniably changed over time (e.g. Bausch 2010). 2 Representations depicting adornment practices in other media, such as dogū 土偶 anthropomorphic clay figurines (see Kaner 2009), are limited to later phases. 3 Ethnographic and ethnohistorical data may help elucidate patterns in use-wear and archaeological find context. For example, in the case of millennia-old tradition of Australian shell bead ornament practices in which certain shells were considered particularly spiritually powerful and/or dangerous, some articles of adornment were absent from mortuary contexts and instead were hidden away to be entrusted to future generations. While articles of adornment did not demonstrate any particular gender division, their use was circumscribed according to age and knowledge or initiation level (Balme & O’Connor 2017). 4 Isotope analysis revealed that while the majority of the Odake population (including the five individuals in our sample) subsisted on a mixture of terrestrial and marine resources, a relatively larger dietary differentiation was evident among males: a few individuals depended heavily on marine resources, and one person on terrestrial plant materials (Yoneda 2014). This divergence has been interpreted as “occupational differentiation” (Takanashi 2015, p. 9) or “migration from another area” (Yamada 2015 pp. 120–122). 5 Amber is limited to three source areas on the Pacific Coast; limpet shell is only found in the South Sea near Okinawa and (the more likely source of these materials) the Izu Peninsula on the Pacific Coast. The jade item, showing evidence of a failed perforation, is the oldest evidence for processed jadeite; such ornaments later would become one of the most socially and symbolically valued Jōmon articles of adornment (e.g Bausch 2010; Fujita 2006; Bausch 2005; 2003). 6 Yamada (2015, pp. 119– 120) interprets this mortuary practice as symbolically reconnecting the deceased with family members, and preserving and strengthening such important genealogical and social relations after death. 7 Similar gendered interpretations also surround the stone slit earrings discovered in burial pits at the contemporaneous Hiraoka 平岡 site, only seven km away. Bone or other organic materials have not been preserved here; nevertheless, in reference to Odake’s funerary associations, it is implied that the pits with earrings at Hiraoka probably also belonged to women, and those with covering stones and other stone tools to men (Machida 2015, p. 35). 8 Recent analysis has demonstrated that Umehara’s 1922 analysis of the Kou skeletons is inaccurate. Ikeda (1988, cited in Amano 2001, pp. 114, 122) identified two of the six skeletons as female, two as male, and two as inconclusive. Of the individuals whose age could be determined, two women were identified as
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36 Ilona R. Bausch middle-aged, and one of the men as a young adult. Amano (2010, pp.178–179; 2001, p. 122) criticized Umehara’s inherent gender bias, and pointed out that Early Jōmon earrings clearly are not exclusively associated with women. 9 Fujita (1989, pp. 27–30) has posited one of the most interesting interpretations of these earrings based on differences in color, material, and form proposing that stone slit earrings were: (1) worn by women with an important representative social function within the community, one per successive generation, and (2) connected to rites of passage. Fujita postulated that upon an important life event such as coming-of-age, a young woman would inherit her first earring (to be worn in the left ear) from her mother, and receive a second earring upon intermarriage with another group (e.g. Fujita 1989, p. 30). 10 A related interpretation deals with Late and Final Jōmon koshikazari 腰飾り “waist ornaments”: carved antler objects mainly found near the pelvis inside (mostly) male burials. They were considered to only be worn by male leaders, representing their spiritual and moral right to leadership (e.g. Shitara 2017; Kinoshita 2000; Harunari 1986). Such ideas can be traced back to observations from the 1920s by pioneering archaeologists such as Hamada (Esaka & Watanabe 1988, pp. 68–70). 11 Stereotypical representations of male-female relations and labor division based on modern industrial gender ideologies are not limited to Jōmon archeology, but are endemic in hunter-gatherer archeology in general (e.g. Bolger 2006; Brumbach & Jarvenpa 2006). 12 Osteology further reveals the austerity of daily life at Odake, with bone structures and musculoskeletal stress markers indicating considerable physical exertions for both men and women. All female skeletons identified at the site had pelvic scars: evidence that they had given birth. Occupational hazards include bone fractures, arthritis, worn-down teeth, or tooth decay; nutritional deprivation frequently caused dental hypoplasia or even anemia. Tooth decay among women suggests a slightly higher reliance on plant foods (Sakaue et al. 2014). Interpretations of musculoskeletal stress markers in relation to subsistence specializations reveal that 20 percent of Odake people favored a squatting position, suited for hunting, fishing, or making pottery. Moreover, traumatic bone fractures occur 2.5 times more frequently among males, demonstrating the dangers of hunting activities. Finally, 8 percent of men showed a thickening of the bregma at the top of the skull, caused by frequently carrying heavy loads on the head, which may correspond to special trading activities (Momoi 2015, p. 58). 13 Alternative or complementary explanations of bone adornments at Odake may be that they served as talismans to avert bad luck or injury (e.g. Okamura 1993, pp. 69–70), or were used to ‘hook’ and anchor the spirit inside the deceased’s body (Kinoshita 2000, pp. 190–191). Based on the osteological analysis of an Early Jōmon burial of a woman in her late thirties wearing a necklace of eleven perforated boar tusks at the Miyano shell midden 宮野貝塚 in Iwate, Yamada has also proposed a medicinal function, through sympathetic magic. An anomaly in her neck joints revealed that the woman suffered from a tumor, causing her constant pain. Yamada suggested that the unusual boar tusk necklace was given to her by a “witch doctor” as a cure for fighting the disease, and possibly healing in the afterlife (Yamada 2008, pp. 97–103). Such an explanation is also offered in the case of the girl from the Xinglonggou culture in northeast China (Yang et al. 2007).
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38 Ilona R. Bausch Fowler, C 2004, The archaeology of personhood: an anthropological approach, Routledge, Oxford & New York. Fujita, F 2006, ‘Jōmon jidai no sōshingu 縄文時代の装身具,’ in T Kobayashi (ed), Kodai hisui bunka no nazo wo saguru 古代翡翠文化の謎を探る, pp. 41–53. Gakuseisha, Tokyo. Fujita, F 1989 (2nd printing, 2002), Tama 玉, Archaeological library vol. 52, New Science, Tokyo. Gero, JM & Conkey, MW 1991, Engendering archaeology: women and prehistory, Blackwell, Oxford & Cambridge. Gijn, A van 2017, ‘Bead biographies from Neolithic burial contexts: contributions from the microscope,’ in DE Bar-Yosef Mayer, C Bonsall & AM Choyke (eds), Not just for show: the archaeology of beads, beadwork, & personal ornaments, pp. 103–114. Oxbow Books, Oxford & Philadelphia. Habu, J 2004, Ancient Jōmon of Japan, Cambridge University, Cambridge. Harunari, H 1986, ‘Rules of residence in the Jōmon period, based on the analysis of tooth extraction,’ in RJ Pearson, GL Barnes & KL Hutterer (eds), Windows on the Japanese past: studies in archaeology and prehistory, pp. 293–310. Centre for Japanese Studies, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Helms, MW 1988, Ulysses' sail: an ethnographic odyssey of power, knowledge, and geographical distance, Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ. Hodder, I 1990, ‘Setting the stage: the Ertebølle,’ in The Domestication of Europe, pp. 178–215. Blackwell Press, Oxford. Ikawa-Smith, F 2002, ‘Gender in Japanese prehistory,’ in SM Nelson & M Rosen- Ayalon (eds), In pursuit of gender: worldwide archaeological approaches, pp. 323–354. Altamira Press, Walnut Creek. Kaner, S 2009, ‘Encountering Dogū,’ in S Kaner (ed), The power of dogū: ceramic figurines from Ancient Japan, pp. 24–39. British Museum, London. Kim, SH 2011, ‘Janghang site at Gadeokdo in Busan: largest-scale cemetery of the Lower Neolithic,’ Journal of Korean Archaeology 2011, pp. 22–31. Kinoshita, N 2000, ‘Sōshingu to kenryoku, danjo 装身具と権力・男女,” in H Tsude & M Sahara (eds), Kodaishi no ronten vol 2: onna to otoko, ie to mura 古代史の論点 2: 女と男、家と村, pp. 185–212. Shōgakukan Press, Tokyo. Kobayashi, T 2004, Jōmon reflections: forager life and culture in the prehistoric Japanese Archipelago, Oxbow Books, Oxford. Lee, GA 2017, ‘The Chulmun Culture of Korea: current findings of and discourse on Korean Neolithic culture,’ in J Habu, P Lape & JW Olsen (eds), Handbook of East and Southeast Asian archaeology, pp. 451–481. Springer Verlag, New York. Machida, K (ed) 2014, Odake kaizuka hakkutsu chōsa hōkoku (Hokuriku shinkansen kensetsu ni tomonau maizōbunkazai hakkutsuhōkoku X) 小竹貝塚発掘調査報告(北陸新幹線建設に伴う埋蔵文化財報告 X), vol 1, Kōeki Zaidanhōjin Toyamaken Bunka Shinkō Zaidan Maizō Bunkazai Chōsa Jimusho, Toyama. Machida, K 2015, ‘Hokuriku chihō ni okeru Jōmon bosei—Odake kaizuka wo chūshin ni 北陸地方における縄文墓制—小竹貝塚を中心に,’ Kikan Kōkogaku, vol. 130, pp. 31–35. Nakamura, O 2000, ‘Saishūshuryōmin no fukusōkōi: Jōmonbunka 採集狩猟民の副葬行為: 縄文文化,’ Kikan Kōkogaku, vol. 70, pp. 19–23.
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Adornments at the Odake Shell Midden 39 Nakao, T 2015, Chapters 1 ‘Sekiko no kurashi 潟湖の暮らし’ and 2 ‘Ima yomigaeru Jōmonjin いま甦る縄文人,’ in Osaka Yayoi Culture Museum (eds), Umi wo mitsumeta Jōmonjin—Hōjōzugata to Hisuikaigan 海をみつめた縄文人−放生津潟とヒスイ海岸, pp. 10– 55. Museum of Yayoi Culture, Osaka. Nash, G 2001, ‘Expressing sexuality, fertility and childbirth in art: engendering southern Scandinavian Mesolithic portable artefacts,’ in L Bevan (ed), Indecent exposure: sexuality, society and the archaeological record, pp. 19–42. Cruithne Press, Glasgow. Nelson, SM & Rosen-Ayalon, M 2002, “Introduction,” in SM Nelson & M Rosen- Ayalon (eds), In pursuit of gender: worldwide archaeological approaches, pp. 1–7. Altamira Press, Walnut Creek, CA. Nishiguchi, Y 1983, ‘Mimikazari kara mita seibetsu 耳飾からみた性別,’ Kikan Kōkogaku, vol 5, pp. 52–56. Momoi, A 2015, ‘Odake Jōmonjin no seikatsu shūkan to rōdō konseki 小竹縄文人の生活習慣と労働痕跡,’ in Osaka Yayoi Culture Museum (eds), Umi wo mitsumeta Jōmonjin—Hōjōzugata to Hisuikaigan 海をみつめた縄文人−放生津潟とヒスイ海岸, pp. 56– 59. Museum of Yayoi Culture, Osaka. Okamoto I 1975, ‘Genshi shakai no seisan to jujutsu 原始社会の生産と呪,’ in Y Kondo & K Yokoyama (eds), Iwanami kōza Nihonrekishi 1: genshi oyobi kodai 岩波講座日本歴史 1:原始および古代1, pp. 75–112. Iwanami Shoten, Tokyo. Okamura, M 1993, ‘Maisō ni kakawaru ibutsu no shutsudojōtai kara mita Jōmon jidai no bosōrei 埋葬にかかわる遺物の出土状態からみた縄文時代の墓葬礼,’ in M Tanaka & M Sahara (eds), Ron'en kōkogaku: tsuboi kiyotari-san no koki wo iwau kaihen 論苑考古学:坪井清足さんの古稀を祝う会編, pp. 47–119. Tenzanya, Tokyo. Parker-Pearson, M 2003, The archaeology of death and burial, 2nd edn, Sutton Publishing, Stroud, UK. Pearson, R 2007, ‘Debating Jōmon social complexity,’ Asian Perspectives, vol. 46, pp. 361–388. Sakaue, K, Kono R, Shigehara, N & Mizoguchi, Y 2014, ‘Keitai Bunseki 形態分析’ (section 5 Chapter VI: Jinkotsu no Rikagakuteki Bunseki /Keitai Bunseki 人骨の理化学的分析・形態分析),’ in Odake Kaizuka Hakkutsu Chōsa Hōkoku (Hokuriku shinkansen kensetsu ni tomonau maizōbunkazai hakkutsuhōkoku X) 小竹貝塚発掘調査報告(北陸新幹線建設に伴う埋蔵文化財報告 X, Vol 3, pp. 24–258. Kōeki Zaidanhōjin Toyamaken Bunka Shinkō Zaidan Maizō Bunkazai Chōsa Jimusho, Toyama. Shin, SC, Rhee, SN & Aikens, CM 2012, ‘Chulmun Neolithic intensification, complexity and emerging agriculture in Korea,’ Asian Perspectives, vol. 51, pp. 68–109. Shitara, H 2017, ‘Jōmonjin no kokoro to inori 縄文人のこころと 祈り,’ in Saga Prefectural Board of Education (eds), Jōmon no kiseki! Higashimyō iseki-rekishi wo nurikaeta Jōmon no taimukapuseru 縄文の奇跡!東名遺跡、歴史を塗り替えた縄文のタイムカプセル, pp. 172–179. Yūzankaku, Tokyo. Shulting, R 1996, ‘Antlers, bone pins and flint blades: the Mesolithic cemeteries of Téviec and Hoëdic, Brittany,’ Antiquity, vol. 70 (268), pp. 335–350.
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40 Ilona R. Bausch Takanashi, K 2015, ‘Odake kaizuka 小竹貝塚,’ in Agency of Cultural Affairs 文化庁 (ed), Hakken sareta Nihon rettō 2015 発見された日本列島, pp. 9–11. Kyodo News Press, Tokyo (English version at the Japanese Archaeological Association website: http://archaeology.jp/remains/odake-shell-midden/). Yamada, Y 2008, Sei to shi no kōkogaku: Jōmon jidai no shiseikan 生と死の考古学:縄文時代の死生観, Tōyōshoten, Tokyo. Yamada, Y 2015, ‘Odake Kaizuka ni miru Jōmon bosei to shakai 小竹貝塚にみる縄文墓制と社会 ,’ in Osaka Yayoi Culture Museum (eds), Umi wo mitsumeta Jōmonjin—Hōjōzugata to Hisuikaigan 海をみつめた縄文人−放生津潟とヒスイ海岸, pp. 114–123. Museum of Yayoi Culture, Osaka. Yang, H; Liu, G; & Tang, C (eds) 2007, The origin of jades in East Asia: jades of the Xinglongwa culture, Centre for Chinese Archaeology and Art, The Chinese University of Hong Kong, Hong Kong (In English and Chinese). Yoneda, F 2006, ‘Kawachi Kou iseki no igi to ibutsu 河内国府遺跡の意義と遺物,’ Occasional Paper no. 2 Chiiki Renkei Kikaku Dai- ichidan Kawachi Kou Iseki Satogaeri- ten Occasional Paper no. 2: 地域連携企画第1弾河内国府遺跡里帰り展、 pp. 14– 29 (Kansai University Repository Link: http://hdl.handle.net/10112/2895). Yoneda, M 2014, ‘Tanso・chisso antei dōi taihi bunseki 炭素・窒素安定同位対比分析’ (section 4, Chapter VI: ‘Jinkotsu no Rikagakuteki Bunseki /Keitai Bunseki’ 人骨の理化学的分析・形態分析) , in Odake Kaizuka Hakkutsu Chōsa Hōkoku (Hokuriku shinkansen kensetsu ni tomonau maizōbunkazai hakkutsuhōkoku X) 小竹貝塚発掘調査報告(北陸新幹線建設に伴う埋蔵文化財報告 X, Vol 3, pp. 16–23. Kōeki Zaidanhōjin Toyamaken Bunka Shinkō Zaidan Maizō Bunkazai Chōsa Jimusho, Toyama. All photos and line drawings from Odake Shell Midden in this chapter are used with permission of the Toyama Prefectural Center for Archaeological Operations 富山県埋蔵文化財センター; photographs taken by the author.
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3 Some features of “Xiongnu” composite belts S.S. Miniaev
The Xiongnu (Huns of Asia) headed a powerful alliance of cattle-breeding tribes during the late 3rd to early 2nd centuries BCE, and dominated the eastern part of Central Asia for two hundred years. A number of Xiongnu archaeological sites were investigated during the 20th century within this vast region, though primarily in Russia and centered in the Trans-Baikal area. Decorated belts that were worn over clothing stand out among thousands of diverse findings. It is likely that this tradition of accenting clothing with belt sets comprised of bronze plates and other bronze objects originated among earlier Central Asian groups—perhaps as early as the Scythian period (8th through 3rd centuries BCE)—and was later copied by the Xiongnu. In Xiongnu contexts, the belt sets were adapted to accord with local cultural habits and preferences in terms of function and style (Miniaev 2000). The belts I focus on in this chapter are decorated with bronze plaques in the “Ordos style.” This style is named after the region where finds of this nature have been concentrated; the Ordos is a plateau along the northern bend of the Yellow River in present-day Inner Mongolia. The style is characterized by images of animals in various poses and is most commonly observed on weapons and belt components. Such belts and other bronze ornaments as well as glass and stone beads attracted the attention of many early researchers (Salmony 1933; Andersson 1932). The earliest discoveries of decorated belts from Xiongnu sites were made at the beginning of the 20th century by a pioneering figure of Xiongnu archaeology, J. Tal’ko-Gryntsevich, at the Derestuj cemetery in the Trans- Baikal area (Tal’ko-Gryntsevich 1999). However, Tal’ko-Gryntsevich was unable to properly pinpoint the in situ locations of belt components and therefore regarded these Ordos style bronze plaques as ornaments of a coffin. Several decades later, a correct reconstruction of similar plaques as parts of belts was carried out by A. Davydova during excavations of the Ivolga cemetery in Buryatia, Russia. She was able to reassemble the belts based on their surviving accessories, the most well-known of which was from Burial 100 (Davydova 1996; 1971). These accessories consisted of two bronze plaques found on the pelvic bones of the deceased, along with two
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42 S.S. Miniaev bronze buttons depicting bears and a set of jewelry items, including stone beads, pendants, rings, and imitation cowrie shells. Analyzing the data of the Ivolga cemetery, A. Davydova was of the opinion that the compositions of the belt sets correlated with the social rank of the deceased (Davydova 1982); later this point of view was advocated by other researchers (Savinov 2015). The sets have also been discussed as markers of age and sex (Linduff 2008). New investigations of the materials from the Derestuj cemetery indicate that the relationship of belt sets to various facets of social identity is, in fact, more complex. In this chapter, in order to offer some new insights into the significance of belt sets, I examine the archaeological context and contents of the burials at Derestuj and also consider the Ordos style of the belt plaques found at the site.
The materials The Derestuj cemetery1 is situated 200 km from the town of Ulan-Ude, on the left bank of the Jida River. The burials are concentrated in at least seven groups, with each group centered on a larger tomb complex. The tomb complexes consist of a large central barrow with stone slabs on the surface. They are surrounded by “satellite-burials” with no surface markings. Most satellite-burials have been found intact. The occupants of these burials (infants, women, and young adults) were likely sacrificial victims, since evidence of forcible death could be found on skeletal remains (see data in the appendix). All composite belts of this study were found in these satellite-burials (Miniaev 2007). In structure, the burials that contained belts were all of the same type: rectangular pits with vertical walls that contained coffins constructed of wooden planks; no surface construction was present. The deceased in these graves, which included both men and women, lay extended and supine, and were oriented north.
Discussion The following discussion is based on data presented in the appendix, which focuses on the composition of the belt sets found in these graves, along with information about the gender and age of the deceased occupants. To begin, it should be noted that current theories about a correlation between the existence of belt sets with age and sex is not supported by this data. This fact can be illustrated by comparing several pairs of burials of persons of the same age and sex. Example 1: Children under the age of ten years—Burials 54, 80 and 109. Two boys aged 6–7 years (Figure 3.1) were buried in similarly constructed graves consisting of coffins in pits with no aboveground construction. However, the burial inventories of the two graves are vastly different. Only an iron object (presumably a buckle) was found in Burial 54, while burial
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Features of “Xiongnu” composite belts 43
Figure 3.1 Burial 54, plan. Legend to the plan: 1 –oxidized iron object. Burial 109, plan and funerary inventory. Legend to the plan: 1, 9 –iron rings, 2 –iron knife, 3–5 –iron buckles, 6 –fragment of iron object, 7 –bronze button, 8 –bronze “spoon-shape” buckle, 10 –vessel, 11–12 –skulls and phalanges of small cattle. Inventory (objects to the right): 1 –a turquoise bead, 2 –a fragment of a bronze button, 3 –a “spoon-shape” bronze buckle, 4, 6 –iron buckles, 5, 10 –fragments of iron rings, 7 –a fragment of an iron knife, 8, 9 –fragments of iron objects, 11 –a clay vessel.
109 contained belt accessories, including iron buckles and rings, a spoon- shaped bronze clasp, bronze buttons, and an iron knife. Burial 80, which also belongs to this same age category, contained a belt consisting of two curved bronze buckles and two plain rectangular bronze buckles (one of them with an iron tongue), an iron knife with a wooden handle, an iron arrowhead, and two vessels, demonstrating the variability of grave goods in burials of individuals of this age and sex. Example 2: Adult females, aged 60 and above— Burials 38, 102, 118, and 129. This group includes four burials of women aged 60 and older who, like burials of the two boys above, aged 6–7, all were buried in coffins in
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Figure 3.2 Burial 106, plan and funerary inventory (top left). Legend to the plan: 1 –an iron knife, 2 –bronze openwork rings, 3 –bronze rings. Inventory (objects shown to the left of the burial plan): 1 –clay limestone pendant,
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Caption for Figure 3.2 continued 2–6 –glass & carnelian beads, 7 –iron knife, 8, 9 –bronze bells, 10– 14 –bronze rings, 15, 16 –openwork bronze rings. Burial 115, (A) burial plan. Legend to the plan: 1 –the humerus of the sheep, 2 –the belt. (B) location of belt parts (skeleton bones shaded): 1, 13 –bronze rings,
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Caption for Figure 3.2 continued 2–8 shells cowrie, 9, 10 –imitation cowrie, 11, 12 –bronze lace rings, 14 –iron knife, the rest –carnelian and glass beads. Inventory (objects shown to the right of the plan): 1–3, 5, 6, 16 –carnelian, glass, bone and fluorite beads, 4, 7–15 –turquoise pendants, 17–19 –imitation cowrie
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Caption for Figure 3.2 continued (river shells), 20–29 –cowrie shell, 30, 31 –bronze rings, 32 –fragment of an iron knife, 33, 34 –fragments of an iron awl, 35, 36 –openwork bronze rings. Burial 127, plan and inventory. Legend to the plan: 1 –ribs of small cattle, 2 –decayed object. Inventory: 1 -fragment of iron wire, 2 –bead, 3 –glass bead. Burial 130, plan and inventory. Legend to the plan: 1 –iron knife. Inventory: 1 –iron knife.
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newgenrtpdf
Figure 3.3 Burial 102. (A) in situ belt components. (B) Inventory: 1 –bronze mouthpiece, 2 –bronze coin wuzhu, 3, 4 –fragments of bronze objects, 5–7 –bronze rings, 8 –a tongue from a bronze buckle, 9–10 –bronze bells, 11–12 –openwork bronze rings, 13 –a jasper nodule with a hole in the center, 14, 15 –bronze buckle-plaque with horse combat scene. Burial 108. (A) in situ belt components (bones of the skeleton are shaded). (B) – Inventory: 1 –carnelian, serpentine, turquoise, bronze and glass beads of
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newgenrtpdf
Caption for Figure 3.3 continued belt, 2 –gold (plaque), carnelian, glass and turquoise necklace, 3 –carnelian pendant, 4 –bronze buckle, 5–6 –bronze rings, 7, 8 –openwork bronze rings, 9 –fragments of an iron knife, 10 –fragments of an iron awl, 11, 12 –bronze buckle-plaques with image of predators attacking a deer.
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50 S.S. Miniaev pits with no aboveground construction. Each demonstrates significant differences in the compositions of belt sets included in the burials. In Burial 38, the belt was made of small iron buckles along with small bronze items, such as plaques and openwork rings. In the belt sets from Burials 102 and 118, only small bronze items and bronze buckle-plaques were preserved. In Burial 129, the belt consisted mainly of beads alongside a bronze ring and an iron buckle. Such variations are not confined to these two examples, and other examples abound. Figure 3.2 shows the burials of three young women, aged 18–25, and one burial of an adult. It can be seen that, on the one hand, there are no differences between the burials of one of the young women and the adult (Burials 106 and 115, respectively) but, on the other hand, there are significant differences in burial inventories across the graves of the three young women (Burials 106, 127, and 130). A final example can be seen in Figure 3.3, which shows Burials 102 and 108, the burials of an adult women and a woman over 60 years old, which have the same inventory. Evidence therefore indicates that there is no direct correlation between the composition of the belt sets and the sex and age of individuals interred in the graves, and so we must consider alternative interpretations of the data. The status of those interred within these burials should be considered. The burials listed above were all satellite, or sacrificial, burials, associated with a number of funerary complexes, each focused on a large, central barrow. Burial inventories of these accompanying graves depended on the status of the individual buried in the central barrow, not in the individual satellite burials themselves. For example, Burial 80 (noted above in Example 1) is a satellite burial of Barrow 78, which consisted of a wooden coffin inside a timber-framed structure, with surface construction in stone. Burial 102 (noted in Example 2) was associated with Barrow 111, which included only a wooden coffin and surface construction in stone. The locations of the burials, as well as the damage to skeletons noted in the appendix to this essay further emphasizes that these individuals were victims, sacrificial burials that accompanied the Xiongnu elite in death. The Xiongnu depended on these people, who were obviously sacrificed to their “masters.” This conclusion contradicts existing ideas about the connection of burials with the belt sets to elite members of Xiongnu society.
Conclusion In the discussion above, I have determined that belt sets found in the sacrificial burials at Derestuj do not correlate with the age and sex of those buried in graves, and that they should not be interpreted as symbols of the elite status of the deceased. One other factor is important to this investigation: the Ordos style “animal imagery” of many of the belt sets and other
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Features of “Xiongnu” composite belts 51 bronze objects found in these graves. This type of imagery has never been observed in other elite mounded burials or their accompanying sacrificial burials at other Xiongnu elite cemeteries, such as those of Noyon-uul, Durlig-nars, Gol-Mod (Mongolia), and Tsaraam and Orgoiton (Russia). For example, in contrast to the Ordos-style belts discovered in the sacrificial burials at Derestuj, belt sets found in accompanying burials of the elite complexes of the Tsaraam cemetery (Miniaev 2009) included plates of iron. Who, then, was buried in the accompanying graves at Derestuj? It is unlikely that the Xiongnu elite sacrificed members of their group who shared common ancestry. Both physical anthropology (Alekseev & Gokhman 1984) and DNA data (Kim et al 2010) have demonstrated a mixed composition of ethnicities among the Xiongnu alliance and show a difference between haplogroups buried in the central barrow and the sacrificial satellite burials at all Xiongnu cemeteries. Therefore, we can assume that the individuals in these accompanying graves did not share a common matrilineal or patrilineal ancestor with Xiongnu elites buried in the central barrow. I propose that the Ordos style belt plaques included in these graves instead suggest that some of the individuals in these satellite burials could be members of the Loufan 樓煩. The Loufan were a group who, according to Chinese written sources (Sima Qian’s Shiji 史記—Records of the Historian—compiled in the 1st century BCE), lived in the Ordos during the Warring States period (5th through 3rd centuries BCE) and became part of the Xiongnu tribal union after the Xiongnu conquest (3rd to 2nd centuries BCE). This textual information is supported by archaeological data. For example, in the burials of the Ivolga cemetery, there is a group of graves with an east-west orientation, which is not typical for Xiongnu graves, but typical for the burials of the Loufan; and in Burial 100 of this cemetery, bronze buckle-plaques in the Ordos style were found (Davydova 1996). Belt sets with bronze components in the Ordos style are widely represented in archaeological sites associated with the Loufan, such as at the Maoqinggou 毛慶溝 cemetery (5th through 3rd centuries BCE), located in Liangcheng County, Inner Mongolia, China (Tian & Guo 1986), as well as in sites of other tribes of the Warring States period (ex., the Yuyhuangmiao 玉皇廟 cemetery, 7th through 5th centuries BCE) near Beijing (Tsundushan Cemeteries 2007). Thus, the data discussed above suggests that Ordos style bronze belts should not be one of the main criteria used to categorize Xiongnu elite tombs, and that such belt plaques included in burials are not always a marker of high social status. To identify the elite complexes of the Xiongnu, it is necessary to use a more specific set of characteristics, primarily the size and shape of the funerary structure, and the presence in the inventory of prestigious gold, silver, and lacquered items.
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52 S.S. Miniaev
Appendix Infants under one year No belt sets were found. Children under the age of 10 years (for an example, see Figure 3.1) Burial 51: A child, 5–6 years. The belt was situated on the pelvis area. It consists of a bronze ring and some glass beads. A vessel, possibly of clay, was found as well. Burial 54: A child (probably male), 6–7 years. A corroded iron object (probably a buckle) was found at the left humerus. Burial 80: a child (probably a boy), 6 years. A belt was found on the pelvic bones. It consists of 2 curved bronze buckles and 2 plain rectangular bronze buckles (one of them with an iron tongue). An iron knife with a wooden handle was found among these accessories; an iron arrowhead and 2 vessels, possibly of clay, were found as well. Burial 109: a child, 4 years. Belt accessories, including iron buckles and rings, a “spoon-shaped” bronze clasp, and bronze buttons were found on the pelvic bones. An iron knife was found among these remains as well. The left and right feet were located apart from the skeleton. Adolescents up to 18 years Burial 106: female, 15–18 years. The belt consists of glass beads, beads of another material, 2 openwork rings of bronze, and 2 bronze bells (Figure 3.2). Five small bronze rings with pendants of clay limestone in the shape of pyramids, and an iron knife in a wooden sheath were also found among these accessories. The left foot was found lying apart from the skeleton. Burial 127: female, 12 years. No belt was found. The terminal phalanges of the left foot were absent. Burial 130: female, 16–18 years. Only an iron knife was found on the pelvic bone. Young males, aged 18–25 All burials of this group were looted. The presence of belts is unclear.
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Features of “Xiongnu” composite belts 53 Young females, aged 18–25 Burial 40: female, 18–20 years. The main part of the belt was located along the right femur; some objects were also found between the thighs. The belt consists of 2 large rings of argillaceous limestone, 2 bronze bells, 2 chalcedony pendants in the form of claws, a large blue fluorite bead, as well as serpentine, fluorite, argillaceous limestone, and glass and carnelian beads. A cluster of argillaceous limestone beads forms the compositional center of this belt set. In addition, while a large number of small seed beads was found around the skeleton (1,800 units), most were concentrated at the waist. Burial 49: female, 20–25 years. The belt was found lying on the left foot. It consists of a pair of clay limestone rings, a pair of smaller rings of clay and limestone jet, and round buckles in jet that are covered in lacquer and gold foil. In addition, 2 “scale-beam” shaped pendants of clayey limestone, 6 chalcedony claw-shaped pendants, and a variety of other beads and pendants of different shapes and materials were found among the collection of belt accessories. A vessel, possibly of clay, was also found in the area. Burial 52: female, 18–20 years. The belt, located in the area of the knees, consists of 2 buckle-plaques of schist, one of which is surrounded by bone beads. Burial 122: female, 20–25 years. The belt was found on the thigh bones. It consists of carnelian, jasper, turquoise, and fluorite glass beads, 2 claw-form chalcedony pendants, and purple glass beads. In addition, a bronze badge, 2 rings of argillaceous limestone, and an oxidized iron object—probably a buckle or a ring—were found. The left forearm, right radius, and bones of the feet were all absent. Burial 126: female, 20–25 years. No belt was found. The bones of the skeleton were in anatomical order, but 4 cervical vertebrae were found separate from the skeleton in the filling of the grave. It is possible that the deceased’s head was severed, and then the cervical vertebrae were added to the grave fill. It is also likely that this woman was tightly bound or swaddled: The pelvic bones were deformed (the right half of the pelvis was found under the left half, and under it lay the left hand). Both legs and feet also show signs that they were bound tightly. The long bones of the right arm (the radial and ulnar), and the femur of the left leg, all had fractures. Adult males, aged 25–60 Burial 99: male, 30–40 years. The belt was found lying on the pelvic bones. It consists of 2 iron buckles with tongues, 2 iron-shaped buckles, 2 bronze buckles, 5 bronze rings with the remains of leather straps, 5 “spoon-shaped” bronze buckles, and 2 bronze buttons. An iron knife with a wooden handle
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54 S.S. Miniaev and a clasp of horn with a carved image of a deer’s head were found as well. In the space between the eastern wall of the burial pit and the coffin, skulls and the bones of an animal were placed. Burial 117: male, 35–45 years. The belt consisted of 6 “spoon-shaped” buckles, a pendant in the form of a three-lobed rosette, 2 bronze buckles with the image of a bull’s head, a bronze hoof form, a bronze buckle with a jumper (a bridge between two sides of a buckle), and imitation cowrie shells that were made from a fragments of river shells. In the area of the pelvic bones a stone whetstone, bone “mouthpiece,” a fragment of an iron knife, and remnants of red lacquer were found. Bones of the foot and the right shin were absent. Burial 120: male, 40 years. Iron rings, a buckle with latch, and a knife were found below and above the pelvic bone in the upper part of the left and right femurs. The terminal phalanges of the legs were absent, the remaining bones of the feet were unnaturally turned inward, and the heel bones were shattered into fragments. Adult females, aged 25–60 Burial 107: female, 45–50 years. Belt accessories were found to the left of the skeleton, and clustered between the elbow of the left hand and the middle of the femur. They consist of 2 bronze buckle-plaques with wooden bases and pictorial decoration of a battle between 2 horses. In addition, 2 bronze openwork rings; 4 bronze rings; a bone tube; 7 bronze plaques, each with an image of a horse; 3 imitation cowrie shells made from fragments of river shells; and carnelian and glass beads were found. An iron knife was found on the belt as well. Heel bones were chopped off and found outside and behind the southern wall of the coffin; between these heel bones, part of the tibia of the left leg and fragments of foot bones were also found. Burial 108: female, 55–60 years. Belt accessories were found to the right of the skeleton between the elbow of the left hand and the top of the femur (Figure 3.3). The belt consisted of a bronze buckle-plate with wooden base and pictorial decoration of a feline stabbing a deer; 2 openwork rings; 3 bronze rings; and beads of turquoise, carnelian, and glass. An iron knife and an awl were also found in the area of the belt. Burial 114: female, 50–60 years. The following belt accessories were found on the pelvic bones: a bronze buckle-plaque with wooden base and pictorial decoration of 2 griffins standing on the backs of mountain goats and tormenting mountain sheep; a large rectangular plate made of shale; 2 rings of shale; 5 small rectangular plates of shale; beads and imitation cowries made from fragments of river shells; and a bronze ring. An iron knife, an iron awl and the remains of another iron object were also found in the area of the belt. Heel bones were chopped lengthwise.
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Features of “Xiongnu” composite belts 55 Burial 115: female, 40–50 years. Accessories to a belt were found on the pelvic bones (Figure 3.2). They include a bronze ring, 2 openwork bronze rings, a few cowrie shells and imitation cowrie shells made from fragments of river shells, 45 carnelian beads, and 11 glass beads. An iron knife and an iron awl were also found in the area of the belt. Burial 119: female, 50 years. In the area of the pelvis bone 2 rings of argillaceous limestone, and rows of bone, glass, clay, and carnelian beads were found. An iron awl in a wooden case was also found near the beads. Burial 128: female, 50 years. A bronze plate with wooden base was found face-down near the left wrist of the deceased. The plate has pictorial decoration of a lynx on a tree getting ready to jump on mountain sheep. On the left forearm lay a corroded iron knife. Adult males, aged 60 years and above Burial 100: male, 70 years. The belt was found lying at the base of the pelvis. It included an oval, openwork bronze buckle-plaque with pictorial decoration of a dragon, 3 pyramid-shaped bronze buckles, a smaller openwork bronze buckle, and 5 additional bronze buckles. Adult females, aged 60 and above Burial 38: female, 60 years. Remains of the belt were situated in the pelvis area. They include a round iron buckle with a tongue; iron rings; four bronze rings, two of which are openwork; 5 plaques with pictorial decoration of a panther and horses; 9 bronze bells; and carnelian, glass, fluorite, and stone beads, as well as an iron tube and two Chinese wuzhu 五銖 coins. Burial 102: female, 60 years. Fragments of fabric and leather belt bases were preserved on the pelvic bones of the deceased (Figure 3.3). The belt consists of 2 bronze buckle-plaques with wooden bases and pictorial decoration of a battle between horses; bronze bells; openwork rings; small bronze rings; a bronze tube; cowrie shells; and several hundred beads of glass, bone, and various minerals. A Chinese wuzhu coin was used to ornament this belt as well. The feet of the deceased were absent from the burial. Burial 118: female, 60 years. Accessories to a belt were found along the right femur of the skeleton. On the right pelvic bone, a bronze buckle-plaque with wooden base and pictorial decoration depicting 2 dragons was found. Below this were imitation cowrie shells made from fragments of river shell. At the right femur were found 2 bronze buttons, and below these, 10 bronze “spoon-shaped” fasteners and a stone bead. An iron knife and an iron ring were among the remains as well.
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56 S.S. Miniaev Burial 129: female, 65 years. The belt consists of pentagonal agate beads as well as glass, bone, serpentine, and fluorite beads, and imitation cowrie shells; a bronze ring and iron buckle with a cross-latch were also found. The woman was lying on her back with bent limbs. The right arm was acutely bent at the elbow joint, the ulna and radius bones lay on the chest, and phalanges and a metatarsal of the hand were not in anatomical order and were not completely represented—some were found inside a vessel in the southern part of the pit. The left arm was located below the right and was also acutely bent at the elbow joint; the elbow and radius bones were situated close to the humerus. The bones of the left hand were in correct anatomical order. The right leg was strongly bent at the knee and pressed against the chest. The right foot was found near the end of the tibia of the left leg. The left leg was also strongly bent at the knee, with the femur unnaturally turned outward; the bones of the left foot were absent—some of these were found in the vessel along with parts of the right hand.
Note 1 For a detailed description of the belt sets of this cemetery, see Miniaev 2007.
References Alekseev, V & Gokhman, Y 1984, Paleoanthropology of the Asian part of the USSR, Nauka, Moscow. Andersson, J 1932, Hunting magic in the Animal Style, Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities, Stockholm. Davydova, A 1996, The Ivolga cemetery, Saint Petersburg Center of Oriental Studies, Saint Petersburg. Davydova, A 1982, ‘On the social characteristics of the Transbaikal population according to the data of Ivolga cemetery,’ Soviet Archaeology, no.1, pp. 132–142. Davydova, A 1971, ‘About Xiongnu artistic bronzes,’ Soviet Archaeology, no. 1, pp. 93–105. Kim, K, Brenner, CH, Mair, VH, et al. 2010, ‘A Western Eurasian male is found in a 2000-year-old elite Xiongnu cemetery in northeast Mongolia,’ American Journal of Physical Anthropology, vol. 142, no. 3, pp. 429–440. Linduff, KM 2008, ‘The gender of luxury and power among of the Xiongnu,’ in KM Linduff and KS Rubinson (eds), Are all warriors male? Gender roles on the ancient Eurasian Steppe, pp. 175–212. Altamira Press, Lanham. Miniaev, S 2000, ‘The origins of the “Geometric Style” in Hsiung-nu art,’ in J Davis- Kimball, et al. (eds), Kurgans, ritual sites, and settlements: Eurasian Bronze and Iron Age, pp. 293–303. BAR International Series no. 890, Archaeopress, Oxford. Miniaev, S 2007, The Derestuj Cemetery, 2nd edn, Saint Petersburg State University, Saint Petersburg. Miniaev, S 2009, ‘Tsaram: a burial ground of the Hsiung-nu elite in Transbaikalia,’ Archaeology Ethnology & Anthropology of Eurasia, vol. 37, no. 2, pp. 49–58.
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Features of “Xiongnu” composite belts 57 Salmony, A 1933, Sino-Siberian Art in the Collection C.T. Loo, C.T. Loo, Paris. Savinov, D 2015, ‘Xiongnu bronze art objects found in their historical context,’ Bulletin of Kemerovo State University. Series: Humanities and Social Sciences, vol. 6, no. 2, pp. 145–150. Tal’ko-Gryntsevich, J 1999, Materials relating to the Paleoethnology of the Trans- Baikal area, Asiatic Foundation, Saint Petersburg. Tian, G & Guo, S 1986, Ordos style bronze artifacts, Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing.
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4 Adornments of Golden Silla Sarah Milledge Nelson
Adornments of gold, including gold crowns, belts, finger and toe rings, necklaces and bracelets, were excavated from large 4th-to 6th- century mounded tombs in Kyongju, southeastern Korea. Beads made of both glass and stone were often components of these adornments, most abundantly the curved bead called gogok (Figure 4.1). These relics from tombs are outstanding, not merely for their variety, the quantity and quality of the gold used to create them, and the intricacy of their gold-working, but also for what they imply about social status, leadership, and gender in the developing Silla state. Their presence not only showcased the wealth of Silla royalty, but some also imply connections to polities in Northeast China and provide clues to the origin and development of the Silla state. Inquiring into the meanings of these spectacular adornments goes beyond assessing their value, admiring the intricacy of their manufacture, and noting the perfection of their beauty. These objects lead us to explore the connections between adornment, leadership, and gender in the Silla polity, which requires wide-ranging data, from the provenance of the gold itself to the technology and history of gold-working. Beyond these considerations, the uses of gold are intimately tied to the origins of Silla’s expansions and conquests as gold must have also provided capital for their conquests as well as displays of wealth.1 This chapter is an attempt to unravel some of the messages expressed by personal adornments made from gold in royal Silla tombs. Such adornments were imbued with multiple layers of meaning, from the material itself to the forms of the artifact as well as the intention of the display and disposition of wealth. Some of these meanings have analogues to Xianbei polities in Northeast China suggesting that within the developing Silla state, objects from afar added status, both proclaiming local ascendancy and establishing connections with the Silla polity and its powerful antecedents in Northeastern China.
Sam Ham period graves (1st–2nd centuries CE) Before and during the 2nd century CE, graves of the proto-Silla (Sam Han) period are found in separate valleys leading away from the central area of Kyongju—valleys in which the gold-laden Silla burials are also found. Before
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Figure 4.1 Gogok from various Silla tombs. National Museum of Korea.
the arrival of Kim Michu, legendary history relates that six clans lived and farmed in separate valleys, each clan with a leader. In histories such as the Samguk Yusa (Legends and History of the Three Kingdoms), written down much later (Ilyeon 1972), the beginning of Silla as a state is attributed to the joining of the six villages previously known collectively as Saro. These villages with their separate leaders were scattered around the central valley where three rivers define the area in which the city of Kyongju eventually developed. Many scholars have equated these separate areas with the six villages of Saro (e.g. Kim W 1982). In the 1st and 2nd centuries, simple pit burials with wooden coffins are characteristic of the large graves in the valleys. Although they contain weapons, horse trappings, and a variety of soft-fired but elaborate vessels, personal adornment is usually confined to a necklace made of stone and glass beads, sometimes with a single curved bead, a gogok, in the middle. The necklaces are only found in larger graves. The curved bead is an ancient symbol of leadership, which has also been found in the steppes and in Manchuria (Lee 1987; Watson 1971), and in Japan, where it is known as a magatama. The larger and richer wooden chamber tombs are thought to represent the leaders of these separate clans. They are typically replete with iron artifacts, along with rarer bronze items that may have ritual meanings
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60 Sarah Milledge Nelson such as mirrors, bells, and buckles in the shape of horses and tigers, as well as bronze daggers. Some specific examples of large, perhaps chiefly, burials are those of Choyangdong, Hwangsangdong, Sarari, and Namsongri (Nelson 2017). Tomb 60 at Choyangdong, a rich burial for the time, contained two bronze horse-shaped belt buckles, bronze mirrors, a lacquered dagger sheath, and iron weapons. The Hwangsangdong site had been extensively robbed but, in Tomb 8, the robbers overlooked 31 beads, including crystal beads and several gogok, which probably had been strung together into a long necklace. Tomb 130 in Sarari is particularly notable because of its length of 3.32 meters. Among objects of bronze and iron there were many beads of crystal and other stones, and a bronze bracelet with six rings fused together. This tomb was popularly presented as the possible grave of the first of the Silla kings listed in the Samguk Sagi, (History of the Three Kingdoms; a late compilation of Korean history completed in 1145), who was recorded to have been excessively tall. A stone cist burial at Namsongni also contained more than a hundred bronze artifacts, 106 tubular beads with a gogok, and a fragment of birch bark with lacquer designs. Necklaces in these graves may well indicate leaders of four of the founding villages. The use of necklaces to signify chieftainship goes back at least to the Bronze Age in Korea. A number of burial sites in the southern regions of the Korean Peninsula produced many tiny glass beads, which have been traced to Indonesian manufacture (Lankton et al. 2003). As shiny, colorful, and foreign objects, they must have been particularly prized (Lee 2013; 1997). A rare textual reference to beads (Sanguo zhi, Chapter 10: “The Account of the Han”) relates that the peoples of southern Korea in the 3rd century CE, “value stone beads, and decorate their necks and ears … and sew them on their clothing” (Byington 2009, p. 142). At present the earliest glass found in Korea dates to the 3rd century BCE (Lee 2012). Most of the early beads are tiny, and predominantly blue, although other colors are found, and they tend to be drawn beads rather than wound ones, suggesting that the earliest beads came from Indonesia. Other glass beads found in southern Korea are cylindrical beads made of barium glass, which probably came from China (Lee 2013; 1997).
Early Silla graves King Michu was a 3rd-century leader, styled in the histories as a king (r. 261– 284). He was the founder of the Kim clan of Kyongju (Rhi 2013), a clan that from that time forward dominated the rulership of Silla. A crescent-shaped fortified hill called Wolsong (Moon Castle), located along the southern river of Kyongju, is believed by some historians to have been the Kim family stronghold. The road that leads from Wolsong toward the Kim burial grounds and is called Wolsong-no, Moon Castle Road, along which other graves attributed to the Kim family burial were excavated. The Wolsong-no excavations are dated by their pottery to the 4th and 5th centuries, including the tomb designated Ka-13, which contained the earliest gold found in Silla
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Figure 4.2 Chestlace made of blue glass beads and gold. National Museum of Korea.
(Lee 2012). A notable necklace made of blue glass and gold, so large that it is sometimes called a “chestlace” (Figure 4.2), was found in this area along with horse equipment such as stirrups and bits, ten swords, and several iron knives. Another very similar necklace was excavated with a profusion of weaponry in the later South Mound of Tomb 98, leading to my speculation that the chestlaces could commemorate battle victories, or indicate members of a military rank (Nelson 2017). Tombs in Hwango-dong in Kyongju also predate the large mounded Silla tombs in which individuals are buried with gold crowns. Some of these earlier graves still showed remnants of low stone cobble mounds, in spite of intensive building around them. King Michu himself is believed to have been buried under an unexcavated medium-sized mound in the Kim clan cemetery at Hwangnam-dong, the area in which the giant mounded tombs with quantities of gold objects were later piled up. Graves in Hwango-dong date from the 3rd and 4th centuries, immediately preceding the gold crown tombs. The larger tombs are outlined with substantial river cobbles, and some have small cobble mounds on top. Boards inside the cobbles form the coffin. These graves average ten square meters in plan. No human remains were left, but headdresses, bracelets, and rings often indicate that the placement of the body was extended and supine. Additional burial gifts, placed in a wooden chest or even in a wooden side chamber, include headdresses, earrings, necklaces, and gold belts.
Tombs with gold crowns Unlike tombs of the other Korean kingdoms, those of the Silla in which gold crowns were found were not meant to be reentered and were impossible
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62 Sarah Milledge Nelson to rob. Constructed with a wooden chamber at ground level or slightly below, each tomb was covered by a layer of cobbles several meters thick and an additional layer of earth. Perhaps because this covering could not be removed in a single night, the rich contents of the tombs were gradually forgotten, and the tombs became part of the landscape around which the city of Kyongju continued to grow. In spite of the amazing quantity of gold artifacts discovered in Silla tombs, all memory of the gold of Silla was erased by the time the first gold crown came to light in 1921. The richness of the first tomb to be discovered was astonishing. It was an accidental find when, during an extension of a house in the Noso-dong section of Kyongju, adjacent to the largest tombs, the workers cut into one of the ancient mounds. Local children were seen digging in the back-dirt for beads, which caused the press and archaeologists to be summoned. The excavation that followed surprisingly produced, among other treasures, an elaborate gold crown covered with gogok and shimmering leaves cut from sheet gold, as well as many other gold objects. This tomb became known as the “Gold Crown Tomb,” since it was the first to be excavated. Subsequent excavations resembled treasure hunts. Another gold crown was unearthed nearby in Noso-dong, which was named the “Gold Bell Tomb.” The next tomb excavated was called the “Lucky Phoenix Tomb” for the three gold birds on one of the risers on the gold crown; this excavation was attended by the crown prince of Sweden, who became King Gustav VI. The tomb was a joint burial, presumably that of a married couple as all such similar “gourd-shaped” tombs in Korea are assumed to be, with each spouse in a separate but slightly overlapping mound. The other half of the Lucky Phoenix Tomb, dubbed “David’s Tomb,” proved to be disappointingly spare. Inventories of these tombs, excavated in the 1930s, were not adequately published, but the richness of their contents is clear just from reports of some of the artifacts. More tombs in the vicinity were subsequently excavated, for example the “Decorated Shoes Tomb,” notable for its elaborate gold shoe soles (Figure 4.3), but no further gold crown tombs were found, and interest in tomb archaeology in Kyongju waned. Before those rich discoveries, the tombs at Hwangnam-dong had been accepted as part of the landscape, treated as if they were natural hills, with trees and in some cases houses jumbled on their sides. In the early 1970s, two more large tombs were officially excavated. The first of these was the largest tomb in Kyongju, known as Tomb 98, a double mound 123 meters long, (encompassing both the north and the south mounds), and 22 meters high. The gourd-shaped tomb, as expected, covered overlapping burials in which a husband and wife were interred, each under their own mound. The south mound, excavated first, was impressive for the vast arsenal of iron weaponry, but disappointingly was found to contain no gold crown, only crowns of inferior materials. In contrast, the person buried in the north mound had few weapons but she had been buried wearing a splendid gold
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Figure 4.3 Gold shoes soles from the Decorated Shoes Tomb. National Museum of Korea.
crown covered with gogok and gold spangles (Figure 4.4). The occupant is confirmed as a female by an inscription, “belt for milady” scratched on one of her royal gold belts. The five gold crowns excavated from Silla tombs are described in detail in Gold Crowns of Silla: Treasures from a Brilliant Age (Lee 2010). While the crowns are not pure gold, their gold content has been tested and found to range between 88.6 percent gold for the Kyodong crown (thought to be the earliest), to 86.8 percent gold for the crown in the north tomb of Tomb 98, to 83.5 percent for the crown in the “Tomb of the Heavenly Horse” (Yi 2010, fn 6). These are thought to be natural impurities rather than deliberate alloys. By the time the giant mounded tombs were raised above royal burials, the amount of gold jewelry lavished on the occupants of the tombs is astonishing. The queen in the north mound of Tomb 98 in Hwangnam- dong had almost five kilos of gold in her jewelry and paraphernalia (Kim & Pearson 1977). According to the Samguk Sagi, the rulers of this period were called Maripkan, a title derived from steppe antecedents. The Maripkan Period (356–514) is designated as that of the early Kim clan kings, named in the king lists as Naemul, Nulchi, Chabi, Sochi, and Chijung (Kim 1997). These reigns appear to be entirely coincident with the gold crown tombs, but the dating of these burials has been contentious. Inscriptions are very rare
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Figure 4.4 Gold crown from the North mound of Tomb 98, Hwangnam Taechong. National Museum of Korea.
in the tombs, and only two have artifacts with dates. An inscription on a bronze tripod vessel in the “Washing Vessel Tomb” gives a date of manufacture that could be interpreted as 451 or 511 CE (Lee 2010), but most researchers favor the earlier date. Another inscription, etched on a silver bowl, details its production as occurring in 415 to commemorate the raising of the Kwanggaeto stele, which extoled the conquests of King Kwanggaeto of Koguryo. Both the bronze tripod and the silver bowl are assumed to have been gifts from the kingdom of Koguryo, which in this period had a close relationship with Silla.
Gold and the rise of the Kim clan As I have shown in detail elsewhere (Nelson 2017), the arrival of the Kim family in Kyongju coincided with the beginnings of the usage of gold, as well as the time when cobbles replaced stone slabs to outline graves, and ever-larger mounds of cobbles were placed on the tombs. The increasing use of abundant river cobbles is very likely a sign of the successful search for placer gold in the four rivers that surround the central area of Kyongju, including the burial grounds. Placer mining searches waterways for gold nuggets brought by erosional processes from the mountains. Imagine the
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Adornments of Golden Silla 65 problem that increasing piles of cobbles would create, accumulating right in the center of the polity, beside the rivers on three sides of central Kyongju. What to do with all these large round stones from the river, stones that had to be removed to retrieve the gold? First the cobbles were used to outline the graves, then the solution was to pile the cobbles on graves. The grave mounds were piled ever higher, presumably until the gold ran out. From the amounts of gold found in excavated tombs, it can be surmised that the gold yield was abundant during the Maripkan period. Both the gold crown and gold belt became the specific items of apparel that provided markers of rulership in Silla. Each item of apparel was laden with gogok made of jade and glass, as well as with dangles and streamers of gold (Figure 4.4, 4.5). The Maripkan rulers were not reticent about proclaiming their ascendance. Additional adornment was provided in the form of necklaces made of glass and stones as well as gold, gold finger and toe rings, gold bracelets, gold earrings, and sometimes inner caps or other headgear made of gold in addition to crowns. Sumptuary rules, as in many other places in antiquity (Hurlock 1965), kept anyone else from imitating the splendor of the rulers (Nelson 2008a). The purity of the gold in the Silla crowns varied slightly, but all were found to have less than one percent impurities (Lee 2010, fn 6). Gold in other artifacts was not tested, but the adornments appear to have been made
Figure 4.5 Gold belt from the “Heavenly Horse Tomb.” National Museum of Korea.
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66 Sarah Milledge Nelson of nearly pure gold. Many of the excavated artifacts were arrayed in the tombs where presumably the bodies lay, but other precious objects were crammed into chests holding additional jewelry, made not only of gold but also including Indonesian glass and imported semiprecious stones. Such chests also held swords and other weapons, as well as gilded horse trappings, such as elaborate saddle bows, and abundant pottery objects.
Silla and the “Gold Road” The articles of adornment found in these tombs suggest several cultural traits shared along the “Gold Road” which, from at least the 2nd century BCE until the arrival of Buddhism in Korea in the 4th century CE, reached from the Caspian Sea region to the Korean Peninsula. These include appreciation for gold (Laursen 2014), shamanism (Nelson 2008b), and the acceptance of women as leaders (Nelson 2012; Weatherford 2010; Nelson 2003). These traits are accentuated by the gold crowns themselves. Shamanistic symbols on the Silla gold crowns include uprights of antlers and an abstract form that has been interpreted as representing the “Tree of Life” (Henze 1933). The gold crowns of Silla were individually made, and although each is unique, a general pattern can be described. Each is based on a circlet of gold, to which uprights in the shape of antlers and/or stylized trees are attached, covered with gold spangles in the shape of leaves or circles, as well as abundant gogok made of jade or glass. These crowns are similar to those found across the Gold Road, even as far away as Afghanistan, where the Tillya Tepe crown was found (Rubinson 2008). Another trait of Silla crowns that echoes steppe crowns is the streamers that hang down and frame the face. These streamers are elaborated with chains or other designs, and in Silla they end in a gogok or willow-leaf shaped gold leaves. The presence of streamers from a woman’s headdress is common on the steppes even today, suggesting that Silla crowns with streamers may have belonged to women. Insook Lee (2013) notes the similarities of Silla gold objects with the gold of Xianbei headdresses called buyao, or swinging leaves (also see Laursen, this volume). These are from tombs of the Manchurian Tuoba Xianbei, but similar artifacts have been discovered in Murong Xianbei sites in and near Beipiao and Chaoyang (Lee & Leidy 2013, p. 113). Recent discussions of the Gold Road across the steppes highlight the importance of gold itself for some of the ethnic groups in the region. Additional similarities between several kinds of artifacts in the Maripkan period and burials in the steppes have been noted (Kim 1997). One of the most striking is elaboration of metal shoes in burial context. Gold burial shoes have been found across Central Asia (Pak 2015).2 Other examples from a Silla tomb are the gilded saddle bows that bear a striking resemblance to a gilded saddle bow excavated in 1988 near Chaoyang in Manchuria, and is associated with the Tuoba Xianbei (Lee & Leidy 2013, p. 91).
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Imported objects The locally crafted gold and glass adornments were mingled with artifacts that must have arrived in the Silla capital from the west via the Gold Road. Some of the objects imported to Silla, such as glass vessels (Lee 2013), were tested to determine their source, along with glass from the Tomb of Feng Sufu (d. 415), brother of the ruler of Northern Yan State. All the glass tested was found to have originated from glassworks in Bactria in Central Asia (Lankton et al. 2009). Other imported artifacts may have originated in Manchuria. For example, a silver bowl from the south mound of Tomb 98 in Kyongju is suggested to have been made by the Tuoba Xianbei of the 1st century BCE to the 3rd century (Pak 1988). This clan later ruled much of China as the Northern Wei dynasty (386–534) (Lee & Leidy 2013, p. 91). Related clans such as the Murong Xianbei ruled several small kingdoms in Northeast China in the 4th century and were probably in the trading system as well. An enameled dagger sheath from Kyerim-no Tomb 14 in Kyongju probably came from farther away. Research suggests that this object, with cloisonné cells filled with garnet and glass, is related to similar objects from Central Asia (Yoon 2013). These objects from the Gold Road demonstrate a close connection between Silla and polities in Manchuria. Scholars who specialize in artifacts, such as Insook Lee and Youngsook Pak, have particularly noted such artifact similarities between Manchuria and Silla. For example, Young-sook Pak asks, “Would it be too far-fetched to assume that these nomads and horse riders dwelling in the vast Eurasian steppes did move eastward settling in various places, and finally reached the Korean peninsula at the far end of the steppes?” (Pak 1988, p. 47). Insook Lee similarly notes that, “It is not impossible that the horse–riding nomads (or nomadic pastoralists) such as the Xianbei, reached Korea during their movements in Central Asia during the 3rd and 4th centuries, contributing both to the development of Silla culture and to Korean acquisition of glass vessels” (Lee 2013, p. 137). The archaeologist, Choi Byong-hyon has come to similar conclusions, stating that the royal burials, “appeared through the arrival of some group of … horse-riding people from the northern Asia” (quoted in Barnes 2004, p. 218). These are indirect references to the “Horse Rider Theory” proposed by Gary Ledyard (1975) and widely disparaged by Japanologists, but connections between groups in Manchuria and Korea seem obvious to Koreans.
The gender of rulers Given the text of the Samguk Sagi, written in the 13th century by Kim Pusik, a descendant of one branch of Silla royalty (Schulz 2011), it is not surprising that when the gold crown was discovered in the north mound of Tomb 98 the initial local response to the possibility of a female occupant in any of the gold crown tombs was denial, even with the inscription
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68 Sarah Milledge Nelson on a gold belt that designates it as the “belt for milady.” However, more recent scholarship has softened on the question of queens. For example, Lee Hansang wrote, “Since the North Mound of the tomb yielded a gold crown, presumably this was the tomb of a queen who ruled with the status of a king” (Lee 2012, p. 51). Lee added, “The kinds of objects interred in the Auspicious Phoenix Tomb seem to resemble those in the North Mound of the Great Tomb at Hwangnam. Does this mean that the occupant of the Auspicious Phoenix Tomb was female as well?” Another similarity between the “Auspicious Phoenix Tomb” and the North Mound of Tomb 98 is that both were double tombs. The gold belts placed in the gold crown tombs, while reminiscent of the belts worn by horse-riding nomads to keep tools and other objects handy, are clearly ceremonial in their style as well as their function (Figure 4.5). The gold streamers that hang down from the gold belts carry symbolic objects, made mostly of gold. For example, some of the objects on the belts include a gogok with a gold cap, several openwork fish, a spade-like tool, a pair of scissors, writing tablets, a small knife, an acupuncture needle container, a perfume bottle, an openwork container, and small bells, a hollow weight, a pair of tweezers, a small knife, and a possible whetstone. These are the tools of the intelligentsia—especially the writing tablets—and possibly also objects used by females. The gold jewelry included earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings for both fingers and toes. Their construction was intricate, including tiny gold chains, dangling leaf and round shapes, filigree, granulation, punched-edge patterns, twisted gold wire, and cut-out patterns, all techniques that have antecedents in Manchuria and the steppes, although they are believed to have been made in Silla because of the particularity of the symbolism.
Silla’s political structure The grave goods from the excavated tombs of the mounded tomb culture demonstrate that gold crowns and gold belts are visible indications of rulership, but the written record tells a story that is not entirely compatible with the archaeological evidence. The grave goods indicate a ranked society (Pearson et al. 1985), and later descriptions of those ranks show that fine distinctions were achieved through sumptuary rules (Nelson 2008a; Kim 1977). Presumably the amount of adornment in the Maripkan period was intended to impress upon the populace the sacred nature of the rulers, who were considered of highest rank, called Shingol, or “Sacred Bone.” The sumptuary rules, as they have come down to us, are specific by rank and by gender within a rank. They include articles of clothing, such as headgear and jewelry; horses, including the size of the stables; saddles and other horse trimmings; and dwellings, especially features that could be seen from the
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Adornments of Golden Silla 69 street, such as steps and gates. But it is interesting that differences within a rank are symmetrical, whether they refer to clothing or horse equipment or houses (Nelson 2008a). The official list of the kings of Silla includes three women who are acknowledged to have ruled in their own right. They are listed as “lady king,” to differentiate them from kings’ wives, who are referred to simply as puin, or lady. The ruling queens in the official king list appear later than the gold-crown period, but they emphatically demonstrate that queens were chosen as legitimate rulers, not merely ruling as regents for underage sons who would become king as adults. In fact, as will be shown below, father-to- son inheritance was not a usual pattern in Silla at this time. Two previous studies have explored the question of gender in the mounded tomb period—studies that had to be based on the artifacts, because no human remains were found. Akio Ito (1971) examined the artifacts from all the tombs that were known at the time and concluded that there was no adornment, weapon, or artifact specific to either sex. A multivariate study of the tombs was carried out by Richard J. Pearson and his co-workers (Pearson et al. 1989), which divided the tombs into clusters by artifacts. This resulted in five clusters, two of which they suggested might be related to females, but they felt it was not conclusive. One cluster included all the tombs containing gold crowns.
Kinship Based on the summary by Adams (1979) of the names of Silla rulers and their near relatives as recorded in the Samguk Sagi, I created the following kinship charts (Figure 4.6).3 Chart 1 shows the lineages of those designated as kings in the official histories of Silla. This kinship chart demonstrates that the kings are in general related, but not a single one of them is the son of the previous king. They are all related but can only be found here and there in the chart. In stark contrast, most of the queens are the daughters of queens. This quite clearly suggests that it was the queenly line rather than that of the king that determined the kingship (Sasse 2001). To make this clearer, I separated the male and female lines in Chart 2 and Chart 3. Chart 2, showing only the paternal line, and Chart 3 showing only the female line. It is only after the Maripkan era that kings’ sons become kings themselves. With this in mind, as well as the Confucian mindset of the author of the Samguk Sagi of 1145, and the declared Buddhist intentions of the author of the Samguk Yusa (both of whose points of view were unfavorable to women), it would not be surprising if ruling queens had disappeared in their accounts. There are in fact three ruling “lady kings” in the lists, so at least it is known that women were permitted to reign. Gathering these facts together, we can surmise that at least one, if not three, of the gold crown tombs belonged to ruling queens.
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Silla Kings and Queens According to Samguk Sagi and Samguk Yusa
Naehae (#10)
Uro
Ium Sullye
Chobun (#11)
Hulhae (#16) Yurye (#14) Kolsuk
Early 5th C
Early 4th C.
Ch’omhae (#12)
Kwangmyong
Kirim (#15) Shilsong (#18, r 402.417)
Mich’u (#13)
Arye
Aro
Poban
Nulchi Misahun (#19, r. 417–458)
Malgu
Naemul (#17, r. 356–402)
Pokho
Chabi (#20, r. 458–479) Late 5th C.
Soji (#21, r. 479–500)
Female Line: Mother to Daughter
Aryu (#18)
Yonje Chijung (#22, r. 500–514)
Male Line : Father to son
#10
Naemul (#17)
SullySullye (#11)
Nulchi (#19)
Kwangmyong (#12)
Chabi (#20)
Poban (#17)
Soji (#21)
Aro (#19)
Figure 4.6 Kinship chart: Silla Kings and Queens. After Nelson 1991, Figure 1.
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Adornments of Golden Silla 71
Conclusion The adornments found gracing the deceased ruling family of Silla in the Maripkan period tombs simultaneously tell many stories. They proclaim status, imply gender, and suggest relationships with polities in Manchuria. They show the value placed on gold by the people of Silla and suggest the lavish lifestyle of the highest rank. They are examples of exquisite artisanship, indicating a society that could support highly skilled craft specialists. The lives of farmers and craftspeople in Silla society certainly did not include such burial gifts (and perhaps ordinary people were not buried at all), but we can guess that they led lives of toil, supporting the displays of power with which the rulers were buried.
Notes 1 The origin of the exploitation of gold by Silla is intimately involved in the origins of Silla leadership beginning with the Maripkan period (356–514). The appearance of gold artifacts occurs simultaneously with the appearance of the Kim family in Silla—beginning with King Michu—which swept into Kyongju to become the rulers of Silla and subsequently to conquer one by one the stylistically related kingdoms of the southern Korean peninsula, collectively known as Kaya. As one of the competing Three Kingdoms of Korea, Silla eventually conquered both Paekche and Koguryo; the city of Kyongju, crowded with Buddhist monuments, became an important Asian city (Nelson 2017). 2 Yang-sook Pak (2015) describes ancient Korean burial shoes, both decorated and plain. One of the interesting features of many of the shoes is the pointed or turned- up toes, which would be appropriate for riding with stirrups. Shoes were never made of gold, but were made of bronze and then gilded, as were saddlebows. 3 A chart with some differences was made by Kim Byong Mo (1997, p. 163), but he begins with Michu, the 13th king, whereas my charts critically begin two generations earlier. A glance at the chart by Kim of all the kings (pp. 191–195, unnumbered pages) shows the uncertainties of many of the relationships among the kings. Moreover, he does not reference from which history it is derived. Adams’s chart is more complete, with the names of some parents and spouses.
References Adams, E 1979, Kyongju Guide, International Tourist, Seoul. Byingyton, M 2009, ‘The “Account of Han” in the Sanguozhi—an annotated translation,’ Early Korea, vol. 2, pp.125–152. Ch’oe, P 1981, ‘The evolution and chronology of the Wooden Chamber Tomb of the Old Shilla Period,’ Han’guk kogo hakpo (Journal of the Korean Archaeological Society), vol. 10–11, pp. 137–228. Gyeongju National Museum 2015, Siila-ue Hwanggum Munhwa wa Bulkyo Misul (Arts of Silla), Gyeongju National Museum, Gyeongju. Ham, S 2014b, ‘Development of Silla headband crowns with tree-shaped uprights,’ Journal of Korean Art and Archaeology, vol. 8, pp. 10–27.
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72 Sarah Milledge Nelson Han, B 1976, ‘The origin of the comma-shaped jade,’ Kogo Misul, vol. 129/130, pp. 222–228. Han, B 1988, Kum gwan–ui pimil (Gold crowns decoded), Purum Yoksa, Seoul. Henze, C 1933, ‘Die schamanen kronen zur hanzeit in Korea,’ Ostasiatische Zeitschrift Neue Folge, IX, Heft 5, pp. 156–163. Hurlock, E 1965, ‘Sumptuary laws,’ in M Roach & J Eicher (eds), Dress adornment, and the social order, pp. 295–301. John Wiley & Sons, New York. Ilyeon 1972 [1278], Samguk Yusa: legends and history of the Three Kingdoms, translated by T Ha & G Mintz, Yonsei University Press, Seoul. Ito, A 1971, Zur Chronologie der fruhsillazeitlichen Graer in Sudkorea, vols. 1 and 2, New Series, vol. 71, Bayerischen Akademie der Wisssenschaften, Munich. Kang, D 1983, ‘Gold crowns of Shibarghan in Afghanistan and of the Three Kingdoms period of Korea,’ Korea Journal, vol. 23, no. 6, pp. 35–38. Kim, B 1997, Guemgwan-ui bimil, gold crowns decoded, Pureun Yoksa, Seoul. Kim, C 1977, “The Kolp’um system: basis for Silla social stratification,’ Journal of Korean Studies, vol. 1, no. 2, pp. 43–69. Kim, W 1982, ‘Kyongju, the homeland of Korean culture,’ Korea Journal, vol. 22, no. 9, pp. 25–32. Kim, W & Pearson, R 1977, ‘Three royal tombs: new discoveries in Korean archaeology,’ Archaeology, vol. 30, no. 5, pp. 302–313. Lankton, J; Lee, I; & Allen, J 2003, ‘Javanese (jatim) beads in Late Fifth to Early Sixth century Korean (Silla) Tombs,’ AHIV Annales du 16th Congress, pp. 327–330. Lankton, J, Lee, I, Kim, G, & Kang, H 2009, ‘Bactrian glass vessels in Korean tombs?’ in P Degryse and K Janssens (eds), Annals of the 17th Congress of the International Association for the History of Glass, pp. 578–589. UPA, Antwerp. Laursen, S 2014, Leaves that sway: gold Xianbei cap ornaments from northeast China. PhD Dissertation, University of Pennsylvania. Ledyard, G 1975, ‘Galloping along with the horse riders: looking for the founders of Japan,’ Journal of Japanese Studies, vol. 1, no. 2 pp. 17–254. Lee, H 2010, Gold crowns of Silla: treasures from a brilliant age, Korea Foundation, Seoul. Lee, I 1987, ‘Report concerning prehistoric gokok,’ in Papers in honor of the retirement of Professor Kim Won-Yong, vol. 1, pp. 357–369. Seoul National University, Seoul. Lee, I 1997, ‘Early glass in Korean archaeological sites,’ in S Nelson & W Good enough (eds), Korean and Korean-American Studies Bulletin, vol. 8, nos. 1/2, pp. 14–23. Lee, I 2013, ‘Of glass and gold,’ in S Lee & DP Leidy (eds), Silla: Korea’s golden kingdom, pp. 115–131. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Lee, S & Leidy, D (eds) 2013, Silla: Korea’s golden kingdom, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Nelson, SM 1991, ‘The statuses of women in Ko-Shilla,’ Korea Journal, vol. 31, no. 2, pp. 101–107. Nelson, SM 2003, ‘The queens of Silla: power and connections to the spirit world,’ in SM Nelson (ed), Ancient queens, archaeological explorations, pp. 77– 92. AltaMira Press, Walnut Creek, CA. Nelson, SM 2008a, ‘Horses and gender in Korea,’ in KM Linduff & KS Rubinson (eds), Are all warriors male? Gender roles on the ancient Eurasian Steppe, pp. 111–127. AltaMira Press, Walnut Creek, CA.
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Adornments of Golden Silla 73 Nelson, SM 2008b, Shamanism and the origin of states, Left Coast Press, Walnut Creek, CA. Nelson, SM 2012, ‘Origin, significance and characteristics of the gold crowns of Silla,’ in L Hansang (ed), Gold crowns of Silla: treasures from a brilliant age, pp. 134–144. Korea Foundation, Seoul. Nelson, SM 2017, Gyeongju, the capital of golden Silla, Routledge, London and New York. Pak, Y 1988, ‘The origins of Silla metalwork,’ Orientations, September 1988, pp. 44–53. Pak, Y 2015, ‘Ceramic sandals from Pokch’ŏndong tomb no. 53,’ in A Bergmann (et al. eds), 60 Jahre –60 Werke: Festschrift für Prof. Jeong-hee Lee-Kalisch, pp. 15–17. VDG, Weimar. Pearson, RJ 1985, ‘Some recent studies in the chronology and social development of Old Silla,’ in Essays in honour of Prof Dr. Tsugio Mikami on his 77th birthday– Archaeology, pp. 181–201. Heibonsha, Tokyo. Pearson, R; Lee, J; Koh, W; & Underhill, A 1989, ‘Social ranking in the Kingdom of Old Silla, Korea: analysis of burials,’ Journal of Anthropological Archaeology, vol. 8, no. 1, pp. 1–50. Rhi, J 2013, ‘The ancient city of Gyeongju,’ in S Lee & DP Leidy (eds), Silla: Korea’s golden kingdom, pp. 13–30. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Rubinson, KS 2008, ‘Tillya Tepe: aspects of gender and cultural identity,’ in KM Linduff & KS Rubinson, Are all warriors male? Gender roles on the Ancient Eurasian Steppe, pp. 51–63. AltaMira Press, Walnut Creek, CA. Sasse, W 2001, ‘Trying to figure out how kings became kings in Silla,’ In Melange Offert a Li Ogg et Daniel Bouchez, Cahiers d’Etudes Coreennes No. 7, pp. 229– 244. Centre d’Etudes Coreennes, Paris. Schulz, E 2011, ‘Introduction,’ in, Samguk Yusa: legends and history of the Three Kingdom, translated by T Ha & G Mintz, Yonsei University Press, Seoul. Weatherford, J 2010, The secret history of the Mongol queens. Crown Publishers, New York. Yi, Y 2010, ‘Introduction: Silla, the kingdom of gold crowns,’ in L Hansang (ed), Gold crowns of Silla: treasures from a brilliant age, pp. 6– 7. Korea Foundation, Seoul. Yoon, S. 2013, ‘The Gyerim-ro dagger and the riddle of Silla’s foreign trade,’ in S Lee & D Leidy, Silla: Korea’s golden kingdom, pp. 133–141. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
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Part II
Transcultural contexts
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5 The Yayoi-Kofun transition as seen from the exchange network of beads in the Japanese archipelago Ari Tanizawa
Various kinds of beads characterized body adornments in Yayoi (ca. 500 BCE–250 CE) and Kofun period (ca. 250–645 CE) burials in the Japanese Archipelago. In particular, the following kinds of beads were preferred: (1) curved beads (magatama 勾玉) mainly made of jade; (2) cylindrical beads (kudatama 管玉) mainly made of jasper or green tuff; and (3) small glass beads mainly colored green blue or cobalt blue. Most of the curved beads and about half of the cylindrical beads were domestically produced, while glass beads originating in China and South Asia or Southeast Asia were imported and spread quickly in the latter half of the Yayoi period. The elite preferred these beads and used them as grave goods during the Yayoi and Kofun periods. In the beginning of the middle Yayoi period, some burials in Northern Kyushu that have been interpreted as those of leaders include rich grave goods such as bronze weapons and mirrors and often contain curved beads made of jade and cylindrical beads made of jasper. Imported glass beads and curved beads made of glass or jade appear in some burials with Chinese products, including many Chinese mirrors in the latter half of the middle Yayoi period. Imported glass beads and domestically produced stone beads are found in large late Yayoi mounded tombs constructed by/for a selected household or lineage segments across western Japan and in parts of eastern Japan (Mizoguchi 2013; 2000; Tanaka 2000) (Figure 5.1: A, B). Afterward, these beads became major grave goods in so- called kofun 古墳, or chiefly mounded tombs, many of which are large and keyhole-shaped (Figure 5.1: C). At the same time, during the Yayoi and Kofun periods, increasing social complexity and broad center–periphery relationships became the foundation of emerging ancient state formations. The introduction of rice-paddy field farming from the Korean Peninsula at the beginning of the Yayoi period led to a population increase and transformed social relationships. In the Late Yayoi period, chiefdoms formed in parts of western and eastern Japan, and the leaders of these groups established a confederation in the Early Kofun period centered on the Kinki region (Kondo 1983). These polities seemed to develop through contacts with China via the Lelang 楽浪 (around Pyongyang) and Daifang 帯方 Commanderies and polities in the southern
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Figure 5.1 Burials with beads during Late Yayoi (LY) and Early Kofun (EK): (A) Misaka-jinja 三坂神社 tumuli cluster in Northern Kinki (LY1). (B) Tatetsuki 楯築 tumulus in San’you (YL2) (After Kondo 1992). (C) Shiramizu-hisagozuka 白水瓢塚 tumulus in San’you (EK2). Adapted from Kobe MBE 2008; Omiya TBE 1998; Kondo 1992. Continued with (B) and (C) overleaf
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Beads during the Yayoi-Kofun transition 81 part of the Korean Peninsula. Recent studies have clarified the development of exchange networks for beads that occurred in tandem with the formation of broad center–periphery relationships at this time (Tanizawa 2014; Oga 2010a; 2003). This chapter considers the exchange networks of curved beads (magatama) and imported glass beads used to adorn the dead during the Yayoi and Kofun periods.
Chronology and regions surveyed Glass beads and curved beads have been unearthed from Yayoi and Kofun period burials in western Japan and parts of eastern Japan. In addition, sites of bead production developed along the coast of the Sea of Japan, especially in the San’in region, which produced jasper and agate, and the Hokuriku region, which produced jade and green tuff. This chapter focuses on the beads from Late Yayoi to Early Kofun burials in western Japan, where the construction of Yayoi period mounded tombs flourished, and where early Kofun period keyhole- shaped tumuli were constructed. In this chapter, “western Japan” refers to the region west of Nara prefecture and subdivided into Kyushu, Shikoku, San’yo, San’in, Northern Kinki, and Central Kinki (Figure 5.2). In the Late Yayoi period, characteristic mounded tombs, ritual items, and pottery styles developed in each region (e.g. Mizoguchi 2009). Based on established pottery and tomb chronologies (e.g. Hirose 1992) and changes over time in the types of glass beads (Oga 2003), I have established the following relative chronology and shorthand terms used throughout this chapter: (1) the first half of the Late Yayoi (LY1); (2) the latter half of the Late Yayoi (LY2); (3) the first half of the Early Kofun (EK1); and (4) the latter half of the Early Kofun (EK2) (see Table. 5.1).
Imported glass beads Variations of glass beads Based on chemical composition, analytical studies have shown that several groups of glass beads were imported during the Yayoi and Kofun periods. One group comes from South Asia or Southeast Asia and includes Indo- Pacific drawn monochrome beads (IPDMB or IPB) (Francis 1990, 1988– 1989). Another includes Chinese beads made of lead or lead barium glass (Tamura & Oga 2015). In recent years, analytical studies of Japanese ancient glass have advanced rapidly, and the results are summarized well in Oga and Tamura (2013), who describe the subdivisions of these beads based on glass composition and their correspondence with a global glass classification system (e.g. Lankton & Dussubieux 2006; 2013). Most of the materials surveyed in this chapter are IPB colored green blue by copper ions or cobalt blue by cobalt. Many of them are made of potash glass. Oga and Tamura (2013) have shown that the copper blue types of
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82 Ari Tanizawa
Figure 5.2 Regional divisions.
glass seem to correspond to high alumina potash glass called mKC-lowC in Lankton and Dussubieux (2006), and the cobalt blue type corresponds to moderate alumina potash glass called mKCA in Lankton and Dussubieux (2006). The other IPBs are made of: (1) “Arikamedu glass” (Lankton & Dussubieux 2006) colored opaque red or yellow green; (2) high alumina soda glass called mNA in Lankton and Dussubieux (2006) and colored cobalt blue or copper blue; or (3) glass, which might correspond to mNC (Lankton & Dussubieux 2006) colored cobalt blue (Oga & Tamura 2013). Based on Oga (2003) and Oga and Tamura’s findings (2013), the IPB can be
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Beads during the Yayoi-Kofun transition 83 Table 5.1 Relative chronological chart
General chronology Middle
50 BC AD 50 100
Yayoi
IV
V
200
VI
250
I
300
400
III
LY1
Late
150
350
This paper
Kofun
Early
II III IV
Middle
LY2
EK1 EK2
V VI
subdivided into eight types as shown in Table 5.2. These types are different from each other in size and “roundness” (Francis 2002, p. 25), which suggests that they were produced in distinct bead-production sites. Imported glass tubes were also used as cylindrical beads that share the same glass types and manufacturing techniques as the above IPB. In addition, folded beads made of plant ash glass and segmented beads made of natron glass were used (Tamura & Oga 2016; Oga & Tamura 2013), but the amount is quite small. This suggests that these beads were brought into the archipelago via the Maritime Silk Road together with a large amount of IPB. On the other hand, some Chinese glass beads are made of lead or lead barium glass. Most of them are two types of cylindrical beads. One is colored by copper or Han blue, and made using a twist drawing technique. The other is colored by copper and made using a folding technique. In addition, there are small round beads colored by copper and made using a winding technique (Tamura & Oga 2015; Oga & Tamura 2013; Oga 2010b). Some imported glass beads were reprocessed into new beads during the Yayoi and Kofun periods. For example, during the latter half of the Middle
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Table 5.2 Subdivisions of IPB in the Japanese Archipelago Subdivision
Glass classification Oga & Tamura (2013)
Lankton & Dussubieux (2006)
Color
Coloring agents (Oga & Tamura 2013)
Size (diameter)
Oga (2003)
I II III IV V VI
Group PII Group PI Group PI /SIV Group PI Group SII Group SV
mKA-low C mKCA mKCA /mNC? mKCA mNA ‘Arik glass’
BD I type (GB) BD I type (CB-small) BD I type (CB-large) BD I type (P) BD II type (CB) BD II type (YG)
Group SV Group SII
‘Arik glass’ mNA
copper cobalt cobalt cobalt cobalt copper + lead stannate copper copper
about 1~6mm about 1~4mm about 4~10mm around 2mm about 2~4mm about 1~4mm
VII VIII
green blue cobalt blue cobalt blue purple cobalt blue opaque yellowish green opaque red green blue
about 1~4mm about 4~6mm
BD II type (R) BD II type (GB)
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Beads during the Yayoi-Kofun transition 85 Yayoi period, small beads made from IPB by splitting and drilling were found at the Naguoka 奈具岡 site (Oga et al. 2005). Furthermore, archaeologists have also found cylindrical beads and curved beads made from chunks of heated IPB, although the production sites for these beads have not been found (Oga 2010c; Koezuka & Oga 2001). Temporal changes Glass beads reached the archipelago in the beginning of the Middle Yayoi period (around the 3rd century BCE), but the amount was rather small at first. In the latter half of the Middle Yayoi period (1st century BCE), many Chinese glass beads flowed into Northern Kyushu, likely due to the establishment of the Lelang Commandery by the Han Empire in the northern part of the Korean Peninsula (108 BCE). The flow of beads seems to have stopped at the beginning of 1st century CE, but soon after that, a large volume of beads—including IPB—began to flow into western Japan. Figure 5.3 shows changes in the number of glass beads from LY1 to EK2. The bar graph shows that the number of beads peaked in LY1. The number gradually decreased in LY2 and EK1 and increased slightly in EK2. The line graph shows the number of burials with glass beads and reveals a similar pattern with regard to the number of beads. It is noteworthy here that different types show different temporal patterns. In LY1, IPB II and IPB I account for most of the beads, but these two types decreased dramatically in LY2, and the proportions of the other types became relatively high. In the following period, EK1, types other than IPB I almost disappeared, which caused a decrease in the total number of glass beads. In EK2, the total volume of beads somewhat recovered, because of the emergence of IPB VIII. However, both IPB VIII and IPB I are colored green-blue and look similar. Stated another way, in the Early Kofun period, the importation of glass beads was almost limited to specific types of green-blue colored beads. The simplicity of the composition of the glass beads in the Early Kofun period (the latter half of 3rd century and the 4th century CE) seems to be unique to the archipelago. For example, in Southeast Asia, such limitation in bead variation did not occur between the 3rd century BCE and the 5th century CE (Lankton & Dussibieux 2013; Dussuibieux & Gratuze 2010). In further contrast with the archipelago, in the southern part of the Korean Peninsula, the number of potash glass beads declined, and high-alumina soda glass occupied a greater percentage in 3rd-century CE burials (Park 2016). To pursue this issue, it is helpful to reconstruct the exchange networks in the archipelago by examining the distribution patterns of glass beads. Distribution patterns: Exchange networks Figure 5.4 shows the distribution, number, and composition of round glass beads in each region. It is apparent that in the Late Yayoi period, a large
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Figure 5.3 The temporal changes of glass beads in western Japan.
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Figure 5.4 Regional differences in the composition of round glass beads.
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88 Ari Tanizawa number of beads were concentrated in Northern Kyushu, whereas in the Early Kofun period the number of glass beads was larger in Central Kinki. In addition, in the Late Yayoi period, regional differences were large in the types of bead composition, for which the region of Northern Kyushu showed the most diversity. This pattern suggests multiple exchange networks in which Northern Kyushu had better access to Eurasian trade networks. In contrast, regional differences disappeared in the Early Kofun periods, when the IPB I or IPB VIII became dominant in most areas. This fact suggests that since the beginning of the Kofun period, Central Kinki was the distribution center of glass beads for other regions. The above data suggests that the change in number and the diversity of glass beads at the beginning of the Early Kofun period is closely related to interregional relationships in the archipelago and foreign relationships in East Asia. Some researchers have pointed out that broad center–periphery relationships were built up or reconfirmed by distributing “prestige goods” such as mirrors with animal motifs and zigzag edge decoration (sankakubuchi shinjukyo 三角縁神獣鏡) that were exclusively acquired through long- distance trade accompanied by negotiations with the Chinese empire in the Early Kofun period (e.g. Tsujita 2007; Anazawa 1985). The changes in glass beads suggest that the “prestige goods system” came to include the importation and distribution of glass beads during this time. Interestingly, in the Late Yayoi period these glass beads were first used as necklaces, bracelets, ear ornaments, and headbands, but in EK1, are often arranged along with mirrors around the heads of the deceased (Figure 5.5: A, B). These beads might be used as necklaces, bracelets, and so forth, but in mortuary context, they were offered to the deceased rather than worn. This trend could suggest a change of the beads’ function from mere accessories to an item used for mortuary rituals on keyhole-shaped tumuli. In addition, from the viewpoint of the formation of center–periphery relationships across the archipelago, it is also important to note that this change occurred in LY2 just before the Early Kofun period. Figure 5.4 shows that during LY1 glass beads were concentrated in Northern Kyushu and Northern Kinki, which suggests that the exchange networks of beads developed mainly along the Sea of Japan. However, in LY2, there was a relative increase in the number of glass beads from the other regions. In addition, smaller changes in the distribution of burial sites with glass beads appear in Northern Kyushu (Tanizawa 2011) and Northern Kinki (Mochizuki 2008). Figure 5.4 also shows that regional differences in the type composition become more apparent in LY2. The above situation suggests that the exchange network of glass beads in LY2 was different from that in LY1, and was complicated by the emergence of regional groups, especially along the Seto Inland Sea. This complex exchange network seems to mirror the period of competition between regional groups prior to the formation of broad center–periphery relationships during the Kofun period (Mizoguchi 2009).
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Figure 5.5 Beads in a burial in situ: (A) Glass beads were used as necklaces in Sasaka 左坂 Burials 25–9 (LY1). (B) Glass beads were arranged around the head of the buried person with mirrors in Gongenyama 権現山 No. 51 tumulus (EK1). (C) Curved beads and cylindrical beads were used as ear ornaments and placed by the shoulder of the buried person, while glass beads were scattered around the lower limbs of a buried person in Mukounoda 向野田 tumulus (EK2). After Omiya TBE 2001; Kondo 1991; Uto MBE 1978.
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90 Ari Tanizawa The existing exchange network seems to have been disrupted by a drop in the number of IPB I and IPB II during LY2. Although it is not clear whether the decrease in IPB I and IPB II occurred outside the archipelago at the same time, the change in the way glass beads flowed into the archipelago could have been caused by political disruptions in mainland China. The latter half of the 2nd century saw the decline of the Eastern Han dynasty (25–220 CE), and the situation could have interrupted global trade networks that extended to the archipelago. In conclusion, the importation of glass beads in the Late Yayoi and Early Kofun periods is closely connected to changes in interregional relationships within the archipelago. At the same time, the distribution of these beads also suggests that these interregional relationships were closely related to foreign relationships and global trading networks.
Curved beads (Magatama) Production situation and classification In contrast to glass beads imported through global trade networks, curved beads and parts of jasper cylindrical beads found in burials were produced domestically. In particular, this chapter focuses on curved beads called magatama (Figure 5.6), which were made most commonly from jade. Most of the jade used for Yayoi and Kofun period curved beads was produced in the Himekawa River basin in eastern Hokuriku (Warashina 1988). Some production sites where small and simple curved beads have been identified in the Hokuriku region, dating to the Middle and Late Yayoi periods (Takahashi 2010; Asano 2003). However, larger and more complex-shaped curved beads have been found in Northern Kyushu (Oga 2002; Kawamura 2000; Kinoshita 1987), especially in the Karatsu Plain, suggesting the exchange of stone material and the production of local beads in the region (Komatsu 2015; Tabira 2008). In the Late Yayoi period, there was a change in the distribution of the production sites of curved beads, and new materials were used to make them. In conjunction with the increase in imported glass beads at this time, the production and processing of glass for curved beads flourished, although small numbers of glass curved beads have been used since the Middle Yayoi period. In Northern Kyushu, especially around the Fukuoka Plain, some production sites had molds and crucibles for making curved glass beads. The material used at these sites was cullet, made of lead barium glass. On the other hand, in northern Kinki, small and simple curved beads were made to imitate jade curved beads made in Hokuriku (Figure 5.6: 18, 19). The materials used for these beads were not only lead barium glass cullet but also chunks of heated IPB, as mentioned in the previous section, suggesting that these curved beads were made locally. Since the materials used to make curved glass beads were imported, they demonstrate not only exchange
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Figure 5.6 Variation of curved beads in the Yayoi period: 1. Yatojiyama 矢藤治山 tumulus, 2. Nakabaru 中原 SP13231 burial, 3. Nakabaru 中原 ST13415 tumulus, 4. Nishitani 西谷 No. 3 tumulus, 5. Tatetsuki 楯築 tumulus, 6 and 9. Kabashimayama 椛島山 tumulus, 7. Shibagahara 芝ヶ原 No. 12 tumulus, 8. Yoshizumi 良積 jar burial No. 16, 10 and 11. Tatesaka 立坂 tumulus, 12. Kanaya 金谷 No. 1 tumulus, 13. Tsujiyamada 辻山田 burial No. 10, 14. Gamou 蒲生 burial No. 37, 15. Suguokamoto 須玖岡本 jar burial No. 20, 16 and 17. Matsubara 松原 No. 1 tumuli, 18. Oyama 大山 No. 5 tumuli, 19. Sasaka 左坂 burial No. 24–1, 20. Shioigake 汐井掛 burial No. 108, 21. Nakabaru 中原 SK12088 burial, 22. Tateishi 立石 burial No. 14, 23. Mikumo-Hachiryu 三雲八龍 pit No. 1 and 2, 24. Wada 和田 district B burial No. 1, 25. Shioikgake 汐井掛 burial No. 224, 26. Gamou 蒲生 burial No. 27, 27. Monden-Tsujibatake 門田辻田 burial No. 15. From Tanizawa 2014.
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92 Ari Tanizawa networks between domestic production and consumption sites, but also larger trade networks across Eurasia. In the Late Yayoi period, curved bead production from stones other than jade also increased (Figure 5.6: 20–27). Although more petrological study is needed, a translucent dark green or opaque bluish white gray stone, most likely serpentinite, began to be used for curved beads. The production sites were scattered in western Japan, in eastern Shikoku (Sugawara 1988), Northern Kyushu, and western Hokuriku (Oga 2009). Most of these curved beads were rather small, and their shapes were simple. Based on these materials, it can be concluded that the production of curved beads was carried out actively with various materials in regional groups during the Late Yayoi period. However, production at these sites stopped at the end of this period, and production did not resume during the Early Kofun period. Jade again became the dominant material for curved beads in the Early Kofun period, but production system of these jade beads is unclear, as production sites have not yet been excavated. Lacking this information, I compared the length, index of depth of the curve, and the existence of grooves on the heads of Late Yayoi and Early Kofun period curved jade beads, the results of which are shown in Figure 5.7. Two Late Yayoi period groups emerged from this comparison (Figure 5.7: 1). One is small, has a shallow curve, has no groove on the head, and is considered to have been made in the Hokuriku region. The other is large (about 25 mm or more), has a deep curve, grooves on their heads, and are thought to have been made in the Northern Kyushu region. Such dichotomies cannot be confirmed for the Early Kofun period, however, because of the increase in size variations of the curved beads with grooves on their heads and the decrease of shallow curved beads (Figure 5.7: 2). This change suggests that during this time period “mental templates” of curved beads converged into one template that has a groove on the head and a deep curve, which suggests that their production system had been reorganized and perhaps systematized. Distribution patterns: Exchange network The distribution pattern of curved beads can be used to reconstruct their exchange networks. Figure 5.8 shows the number and composition of curved beads in each region. In the Late Yayoi period, regional differences in the composition of curved beads are evident. More specifically, glass curved beads were dominant in the region along the Sea of Japan, but stone curved beads were dominant in the region along the Seto Inland Sea. In Northern Kyushu, both account for the same percentage. This distribution pattern is similar to that of imported glass beads, which suggests complex exchange networks. However, in EK1, because the number of curved beads locally made of glass and stone other than jade decreased, the number of curved beads declined, and jade became dominant in each region. In Figure 5.8, the
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Figure 5.7 Comparison of shape variations in curved beads from the Late Yayoi and Early Kofun.
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Figure 5.8 Regional differences in curved beads.
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Beads during the Yayoi-Kofun transition 95 number of curved glass beads in Northern Kinki stands out, but this is due to 32 curved glass beads excavated from the Jonoyama 城の山 tumulus. These beads are very small and made of cobalt-colored translucent glass and differ from Yayoi glass curved beads, suggesting discontinuity with earlier glass curved beads. On the other hand, in Central Kinki, curved beads with grooves on the head were relatively more dominant than in other regions. Most of them were excavated from large keyhole-shaped tumuli, such as the Sakuraichausuyama 桜井茶臼山 and Shimoikeyama 下池山 tumuli, concentrated in the southeastern part of the Nara Basin. In EK2, jade curved beads with head grooves were more clearly concentrated in Central Kinki. Based on the above results, jade curved beads, in particular those with head grooves, began to be distributed from Central Kinki to the other regions in the Early Kofun period. Thus, it also suggests that the groups in Central Kinki, especially the southeastern part of the Nara Basin, were mainly responsible for reorganizing the production system of curved jade beads. In burials, curved jade beads were usually combined with cylindrical beads rather than glass beads and were used as upper body ornaments such as necklaces, ear ornaments, and bracelets (Figure 5.5: C). In particular, the combination of curved jade beads with head grooves and a kind of jasper cylindrical bead that Oga (2010a) called the “Korean Peninsula type” thought to be made in the northern part of the Korean Peninsula, is recognized as a regular pattern. This suggests that the combination of these beads as body ornaments originated from the Central Kinki, which from the beginning of the Kofun period was also the center of exchange networks of imported and domestically produced beads. In addition, another noteworthy change occurred in LY2 when the number of curved beads used in western Japan increased, due to local production. In other words, at this time curved beads as elite burial goods were accepted through a complex exchange network that was cross-referenced rather than diffused in a center–periphery pattern. The existence of competitive relationships between regional groups just before the formation of broader center–periphery relationships is also evidenced in glass bead networks. Furthermore, because most of the curved beads were made in the archipelago, direct factors that influenced the change that occurred in EK1 are not found outside the archipelago. In other words, each region other than Central Kinki stopped local curved bead production and adopted the beads distributed from the center of Kinki. This suggests that the center– periphery relationship in EK1 was not simply one-way, but a mutual relationship between the center and other regions.
Conclusion This study has examined the exchange system for beads used in elite burials—especially imported glass beads and curved beads—in the Late
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96 Ari Tanizawa Yayoi and Early Kofun periods, demonstrating that at the beginning of the Early Kofun period bead exchange networks became centered on Central Kinki. This change occurred in tandem with the development of the keyhole-shaped tumuli as elite burials. Alongside these changes, the analysis of bronze mirrors also suggests a reorganization of their distribution system at the beginning of the Early Kofun period. Tsujita (2007) regarded this change as part of the formation of a “prestige goods system” (Friedman & Rowlands 1977) in which regional elites justified their position by obtaining “prestige goods” distributed from a central power. This chapter suggests that beads were also embedded in this “prestige goods system,” the main items of which were bronze mirrors but with various kind of items (jasper bracelets, iron swords, bronze/iron spearheads, etc.), and distributed as symbols of relationship with the central power. Moreover, the exclusive importation of glass beads by Central Kinki suggests that this kind of beads implied accessibility to an external power, such as the Chinese empire. Consequently, the beads were redistributed and functioned as a local power resource. However, it does not appear that a strict ranking system expressed through body adornment developed in conjunction with this system. These beads might be worn in life, but rather used in mortuary contexts, and they represent political association with central Kinki region through sharing a style and items of mortuary ritual. The discussion in this chapter shows the situation before metal articles of adornment (gilt bronze earrings, crowns, and so on) were introduced along with horse-riding related practices from the continent. They were also found in burials together with various kinds of beads in the Middle and Late Kofun period, suggesting a more complex system of body adornment.
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Beads during the Yayoi-Kofun transition 99 Oga, K & Tamura, T 2013 ‘Ancient Japan and the Indian Ocean interaction sphere: chemical compositions, chronologies, provenances and trade routes of imported glass beads in the Yayoi-Kofun periods (3rd century BCE–7th century CE)’, Journal of Indian Ocean Archaeology, vol. 9, pp. 35–65. Omiya Town Board of Education (ed) 2001, Sasaka hunbo-gun 左坂墳墓群 (Sasaka tumuli cluster), Omiya TBE, Omiya. Omiya Town Board of Education 1998, Misaka-jinja hunbo-gun 三坂神社墳墓群 (Misaka-jinja tumuli cluster), Omiya TBE, Omiya. Park, J 2016, ‘Hangug godae lyuli guseul- ui teugjing- gwa jeongae yangsang 韓國古代琉璃구슬의 特徵과 展開樣相’ (Characteristic and development ancient glass beads in Korea), Jung-ang gogo yeongu, vol. 19, pp. 71–109. Sugawara, Y 1988, ‘Yoshinogawa jouryuiki no magatama seisaku: Tokushimaken inamochi iseki no kougyoku keitai ni tsuite 吉野川上流の勾玉製作―徳島県稲持遺跡の攻玉形態について― (Curved beads production along the upper stream of Yoshino River: focusing on making technique at Inamochi site in Tokushima prefecture),’ in K Mori, (ed), Koukogaku to gijutu (Archaeology and technology), pp. 259– 272. Doshisha University Archeological Series Publication Committee, Kyoto. Tabira, N 2008, ‘Kyushu ni okeru Yayoi jidai hisui magatama no seisaku to ryutsu ni tsuite 九州における弥生時代ヒスイ勾玉の製作と流通について(Production and distribution of Yayoi jade curved beads in Kyushu),’ Sagakenritsu nagoyajou hakubutsukan kenkyu kiyou, vol. 14, pp. 1–22. Takahashi, K 2010, ‘Hisui hanketsu magatama no seisaku gijutsu to chiikisei no haikei 翡翠半玦形勾玉の製作技術と地域性の背景 (The background of regional difference in making technique of jade half- ring curved beads)’ in Osaka University Department of Archaeology (ed), Machikaneyama koukogaku ronshu 待兼山考古学論集 (Papers in celebration of 20th anniversary of Osaka University Department of Archaeology), vol. 2, pp. 215–230. The Association of Osaka University Archaeology, Toyonaka. Tamura, T & Oga, K 2015, ‘Distribution of lead-barium glasses in ancient Japan,’ Crossroads, vol. 9, pp. 63–82. Tamura, T & Oga, K 2016, ‘Archaeometrical investigation of natron glass excavated in Japan,’ Microchemical Journal, vol. 126, pp. 7–17. Tanaka, Y 2000, ‘Bochi kara mita shinzoku-kazoku 墓地から見た親族・家族 (Kin organizations and families as seen from mortuary practices),’ in H Tsude and M Sahara (eds), Kodaishi no ronten 古代史の論点, vol. 2: On’na to otoko, ie to mura 女と男、家と村 (Debates in ancient history, vol. 2: women and men, households and villages), pp. 131–152. Shogakukan, Tokyo. Tanizawa, A 2011, ‘Yayoi jidai kouki ni okeru garasu kodama no ryutu: Hokubu Kyushu chiiki wo chushin ni 弥生時代後期におけるガ ラス小玉の流通―北部九州地域を中心に― (The exchange system of glass beads in the Late Yayoi period: focused on the Northern Kyushu region), Kyushu kokogaku, vol. 86, pp. 1–39. Tanizawa, A 2014, ‘Yayoi jidai kouki shumatsuki no magatama kara mita chiikikan- kankei to sono henyou 弥生時代後期・終末期の勾玉から みた地域間関係とその変容 (Interregional relationships in the Late to Final Yayoi periods: seen from the distribution pattern of comma-shaped beads in western Japan),’ Koukogaku kenkyu, vol. 61, no. 2, pp. 65–84.
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6 Why wear dolphins? Greek imagery among the pastoralists along the ancient Oxus Karen S. Rubinson
To quote Cynthia Colburn and Maura Heyn, “bodily adornment [is] a means of shaping and communicating identity, and thereby facilitating interaction, negotiating difference, and creating or crossing boundaries” (2008, p. 1). Earrings excavated from cemeteries along the ancient Oxus River— today’s Amu Darya—which date to the 1st century BCE through the 1st century CE,1 are a challenging case with which to explore these issues, since the burials are situated in a time and place without written evidence during a period of political readjustment. The time is the interregnum between the Greco-Bactrian Kingdom, which ended about 125 BCE, and the foundation of the Kushan Empire in the 1st century CE. The Greco-Bactrian Kingdom was the easternmost extent2 of the spread of the Hellenistic world that followed Alexander the Great’s conquests in Central Asia, covering Bactria and Sogdiana beginning in ca. 250 BCE. It was centered to the north of present-day Afghanistan. Ancient Bactria, the region from which the evidence discussed here comes, includes parts of the modern countries of Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, and Afghanistan. The data for this discussion come from relatively elite burials of females3 from sites in the region of the Amu Darya River. The distinctive earrings discussed below are rare and were chosen to look at issues of cultural identity because images of amphoras and dolphins, both of which are specifically tied to the Greco-Roman world, occur in multiple examples in several burials. They are not the only objects unlikely to have been made locally that are found in female graves—and male graves for that matter. But they occur in numbers allowing for some patterning to be seen and the possibility to interrogate their meaning.
The burial data: Mobile pastoralists Anatoliy Mandel’shtam excavated and published reports on several cemeteries in Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan in the 1960s and 1970s, specifically looking for what he called “nomads.” The contents of three
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Babashov
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Amu Darya
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Aruktau
BM-V
Tulkar
Ittifok
Ay Khanum
Tillya Tepe
Figure 6.1 Regional Map. Prepared by Narges Bayani and Iris Fernandez and adapted from Litvinsky & Sedov 1984, p. 5.
of those cemeteries are discussed here (Mandel’shtam 1975; 1966). Two sites in Tajikistan excavated by Mandel’shtam, the cemeteries of Tulkhar (Mandel’shtam 1966) and Aruktau (Mandel’shtam 1975) were located, like the others, in well-watered valleys of tributaries of the Amu Darya. These two cemeteries were located in the Bishkent valley—just north of the Amu Darya and west of the Kafirnigan River (Figure 6.1). Although originally dated by the excavator to a somewhat earlier period—based on pottery, fragments of Roman glass and coins—the coins have been redated, now suggesting that the cemeteries date to the period from the 1st century BCE through the 1st century CE, after the fall of the Greco-Bactrian Kingdom and before the rise of the Kushan Empire sometime in the 1st century CE.4 According to Chinese texts, it is during this time that the Yuezhi, pushed by the Xiongnu, moved into Central Asia from the borderlands of what is today China (Rapin 2007, pp. 48–50; Puri 1994, pp. 247–249), and it is on the basis of the texts that these cemeteries, not located near the known settlement sites, are ascribed to this mobile pastoralist group. There is some archaeological evidence from these cemeteries suggesting that those buried in fact may be affiliated with horse-riding, mobile pastoralist groups. One burial in the Tulkhar cemetery, Kurgan Group 1, Burial
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 103 18 (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 14–15), the lateral-niche pit grave burial of a male, contained the commonly found sheep bones, iron knife, and a wheel- made vessel likely to have come from a settlement in the region. This burial was richer than many in the cemetery; additional grave goods included an Eukratides-derived obol (found in the jaw), and an iron dagger at the right hip, as well as two brass tacks.5 Mandel’shtam (1966, pp. 135–136) suggested that the tacks might have belonged to belts, pouches, or scabbards that were not preserved, all of which might have been the equipment of horse- riding nomads, although that would not be conclusive. However, Martin Gruber, Jangar Il’yasov, and Kai Kaniuth posit that in the case of Burial 3 at Tilla Bulak, in southern Uzbekistan, such tacks were the remains of a whip handle; they suggest that such might also be the case where tacks occur in the burials excavated by Mandel’shtam (Gruber, Il’yasov & Kaniuth 2012, pp. 353, 356, 371–72).6 If they are indeed remains of whips, it would be the sole indication in these burials of equipment associated specifically and unequivocally with horses and horse-riding. Tulkhar Kurgan Group 2, Burial 7—a male, again a lateral-niche pit grave burial with a few more artifacts than most others—contained, in addition to an iron dagger and an iron knife, other artifacts that could be associated with pastoralists: an iron buckle on the right side of the pelvis and, in situ on top of the pelvis, at the waist, a pair of belt plaques made of horn or bone, together with a silver fitting (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 28–29).7 Based on more elaborate parallels in richer Central Asian burials that also contain horse equipment, we can postulate that the deceased in this burial may have had a horse-riding affiliation (Gruber, Il’yasov & Kaniuth 2012). Further west along the Amu Darya, in today’s Turkmenistan, at the bend of the modern riverbed near Mukry, is another cemetery, Babashov, associated with these presumed mobile pastoralist groups (Mandel’shtam 1975, pp. 64–65).8 Two of the burials in this cemetery also contained belt plaques. Lateral- niche pit grave Burial 26 of Group 14, the apparently disturbed burial of a male, contained a few gold foil pieces at the skull, a whetstone alongside the left leg, and two bone plaques approximately rectangular in shape and pierced with holes (Mandel’shtam 1975, Figure 51, pp. 91–92). These appear to be small belt plaques, versions of the larger ones from Tulkhar. Another burial in the Babashov cemetery, Group 14, Burial 25, a pit burial (Figure 6.2a), contained a pair of bronze belt plaques depicting camels (Figure 6.2b) that are reminiscent of those found much further east, in the northern Chinese borderlands and adjacent regions of Mongolia and Russia (Brosseder 2011, pp. 364–379).9 The male burial contained near the head a footed ceramic goblet and the bones of a sheep. A larger brass circle was found on the sacrum and two brass circles with protruding hooks (Figure 6.2c) (buckles for boots?),10 together with a brass fitting (Figure 6.2d), lay between the heels. At the waist were the rectangular bronze plaques with camel imagery. The deceased also had an iron ring on each hand (Mandel’shtam 1975, Figure 50, pp. 90, 92).
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Figure 6.2 Babashov Cemetery, Group XIV, Burial 25: (a) plan and section, (b) camel belt plaques, (c) boot buckles, (d) buckle. Prepared by Narges Bayani and Iris Fernandez and adapted from Mandel’shtam 1975, Figure 50, plates XXXII, 15, 16; XXXIII 6, 8, 9.
The burials with the remains of whips, together with the burials with the belt plaques, all identified as male, are the sole direct material evidence that the individuals buried in these cemeteries are members of a mobile pastoralist society, and likely horseback riders.11 Besides evidence from Chinese texts (Rapin 2007, p. 50; Puri 1994, p. 247), one might suggest that the presence of sheep bones in virtually all of the burials, often together with an iron utility knife, might be an indicator of a pastoral life-way. T.N. Kiyatkina (1975, p. 212) studied a group of the skulls from these cemeteries, primarily Tulkhar, and concluded that the individuals were new to the region of Central Asia and originated on the steppe. In contrast to these male burials with remains of whips and belt plaques, most of the graves, both of males and females, contained few burial goods. In general, the deceased were accompanied by the bones of sheep, one or two ceramic vessels, and sometimes an iron knife. The ceramics were wheel- made, standardized, and similar to the pottery found on the Hellenistic site of Ai Khanum, in today’s Afghanistan, that was destroyed by the Yuezhi (Rapin 2007, p. 50; Mandel’shtam 1975, p. 44; Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 88),
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 105 as well as in smaller, slightly later settlements in the valley where the Tulkhar and Aruktau cemeteries are located (e.g., Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 148–149).
The burial data: Dolphin and amphora earrings Although the invaders destroyed the settlement of Ai Khanum itself, they did not destroy the heritage of Greek culture that had been established by Alexander’s followers (Bernard 2008, pp. 104–105; Rapin 2007, p. 63; Bernard 1994, pp. 127–129). A group of earrings from the cemeteries of Tulkhar and Aruktau, as well as examples from related cemetery groups, Bishkent Cemeteries V (BM- V), Bishkent Cemeteries IV (BM- IV), and “Ittifok,”12 consisting of a pair of dolphins on either side of an amphora- shaped central element, usually white, made of paste, stone (alabaster and dolomite are specifically identified in some cases), and sometimes incor porating pearls, testify to that (Figure 6.3) (Belaňová 2017, pp. 119–121).13 Here we will look first at the contexts and then at the signification of these elements of bodily adornment. The earrings at Tulkhar and Aruktau were found in burials with richer contents than most others attributed to females in the cemeteries. The burials stand out within the large cemeteries, where, as mentioned above, most of the graves contained only the bones of sheep, one or two ceramic vessels, one often a stemmed cup, and in many instances an iron knife. There were 348 burials in the Tulkhar cemetery (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 9),14 only four of which contained dolphin-amphora earrings. Kurgan Group 1, Burial 20, a pit burial, contained a child—9–10 years old, supine, and identified as female (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 16–17). Leg and rib bones of sheep were placed above the head together with two ceramic vessels, a goblet, and a jug. The two brass and gold earrings with dolphin/amphora pendants were on either side of the head (Figure 6.3a), not far above two small bronze bells. Another bronze bell was together with a group of 14 stone beads at the neck.15 There was a brass bracelet on the right wrist. At the left hand were fragments of two finger rings: a simple iron ring and an iron ring with a bronze signet. At the right hand were fragments of two brass rings. The second burial containing such earrings is Kurgan Group 5, Burial 7, a lateral-niche pit grave burial containing a supine female (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 39–40). The arrangement in the burial chamber was similar to the previous example, with a jug and a goblet at the head, together with sheep bones. Two rows of gold plaques together with a clasp were found on the top of the skull and are presumed to be a diadem. Two additional small gold fragments were found in the same area. Beside the head were brass earrings with gold pendants—the dolphin-amphora earrings, of which only the metal parts were preserved (Figure 6.3b). Forty stone beads were found at the neck. A large bead was located among the left ribs. Near the waist was found a bone disk, a small bead, a stone pendant and a fragment of a large
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Figure 6.3 Dolphin-amphora earrings. Figure prepared by Narges Bayani and Iris Fernandez, not to scale; (a-d) adapted from Mandel’shtam 1966, (e) Mandel’shtam 1975, (f and g) Litvinsky & Sedov 1984, (h and i) Palazzo Venezia Roma 1994.
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 107 fish vertebrae, from a catfish or a carp. A brass bracelet was on the left wrist, as well as three beads. Another supine female lateral-niche pit grave burial containing these earrings was Kurgan Group 16, Burial 18 (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 72–73). The burial inventory is slightly different, since a very fragmentary bronze mirror16 was found adjacent to the sheep bones above the head, as well as a lead pin or stick (as designated by Mandel’shtam).17 The burial contained only one ceramic vessel, a footed goblet. The metal parts of brass and gold earrings are well preserved, including bronze suspension loops, but only one of the paste amphoras is partially preserved (Figure 6.3c). There were three beads at the neck and an iron signet ring on the left index finger and a simple brass ring on the left middle finger. The last burial at Tulkhar to be mentioned is Kurgan Group 16, Burial 8, the lateral-niche pit grave of a female (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 69–70), which contained only a single earring found at the right side of the head (Figure 6.3d). Above the head were a jar and goblet. Traces of copper were found near the head as well. There were 12 beads at the neck. On the right arm were fragments of a brass bracelet and two beads. An iron bracelet lay on the left arm and brass signet ring on the left index finger. We can see that this earring shape is a distinctive marker, since four burials constitute a tiny fraction of the burials assigned to this period within the cemetery. It is clear that the individuals marked with these earrings were exceptional in some way. One question to ask is whether the meaning of these earrings is the same in all four burials despite their other differences: in a young girl’s burial; in a quite-rich woman’s burial with a lot of gold; in a less-rich but still distinctive woman’s burial with uncommon objects, such as a bronze mirror and a lead pin; and in a much less-rich woman’s burial, although with traces of copper near the head, which may have had a special form and meaning when intact, and from which only one earring was recovered. Mandel’shtam provided detailed descriptions of the seven dolphin- amphora earrings from Tulkhar (Mandel’shtam 1966, pl. LIX, nos. 1–5, 7 and 8). Among other details, he notes that the “amphoras” of the pair of earrings from Kurgan Group 1, Burial 20, are made of alabaster, and the central rods on which the amphora-shaped beads are suspended end in small granulations of gold (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 124). Only the dolphin-shaped “handles” are preserved on the earrings from Kurgan Group 5, Burial 7, together with the suspension rod of the left earring. The left earring had been transformed, at least at burial, by the addition of a pendant of small, green glass beads. The right earring shows signs of mechanical change that might also indicate reuse (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 125). Since this burial had other gold ornaments in it, including a diadem, the apparent reuse/transformation of the dolphin-amphora earrings may indicate that they were important symbolically; this also suggests that the earrings were, perhaps, difficult to replace (i.e., was not due to the lack of wealth of the deceased
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108 Karen S. Rubinson and her family). The single earring from Kurgan Group 16, Burial 8, is similar to the two earrings from the burial of Kurgan Group 1, Burial 20. It too has an alabaster “amphora” body. Rather than ending in a series of gold granules, the support stem ends with a disk, and between that and the alabaster is a small white bead (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 125). The earrings from Kurgan Group 16, Burial 18 had amphora bodies of a different material, glass paste, preserved only on the left earring. Although the preserved paste now looks gray-brown, Mandel’shtam reported that it was originally green (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 125). The question remains open as to whether the paste had been glazed white to mimic the alabaster of other examples, with such glazing not preserved.18 Mandel’shtam did not see all these earrings as belonging to the same category, since he speculated that the suspended features between the “dolphin” images might have been of more than one shape (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 125), an opinion I do not share. He further suggested that the single earring from Kurgan Group 16, Burial 8 was a copy of the type of earring found in Kurgan Group 1, Burial 20, which is certainly possible, since because of the granulation, the latter are more technically sophisticated. But as Mandel’shtam (1966, pp. 125–126) said, there are too few examples from which to make large statements about workshops of manufacture. Below I discuss the few additional examples of related earrings that have been excavated in cemeteries in the region, to add to the data set. The Aruktau cemetery contained 286 burials, which were much poorer than those at Tulkhar.19 Only one burial, Group 14, Burial 5, contained copper and gold dolphin-amphora earrings (Mandel’shtam 1975, p. 34, pl. XVIII, 23) (Figure 6.3e). The lateral-niche pit grave of a supine child also contained a ceramic pot and jar, two beads at the cervical vertebrae and a small pyrite bead at the right hand. This burial, with the distinctive earrings, was the richest burial at Aruktau, yet was poorer in grave goods than those with similar earrings at Tulkhar. Despite the comparative poverty of this burial complex, the person buried here, even though a child, was obviously special within the group buried at this site. Litvinsky and Sedov (1984, pp. 129– 130, Figures 31 and 32) illustrate three earrings from the Bishkent valley excavations, cemetery BM-V. Described as of bronze and gold, they have similar shapes to those from Aruktau (Figure 6.3f,g). Two have bodies that appear to be paste on either side of a central pearl, like one example from Aruktau Kurgan Group 16, Burial 18 (Mandel’shtam 1966, pl. LIX, 7), although they also have what appear to be large granulations at the bottom, together perhaps with another bead just above (Litvinsky & Sedov 1984, Figure 31) (Figure 6.3f).20 The granulation recalls Aruktau earrings from Kurgan Group 1, Burial 20 and the additional bead echoes the earring from Aruktau Kurgan Group 16, Burial 4 (Mandel’shtam 1966, pls. LIX, 1, 3; LIX, 2). The third example is quite fragmentary (Figure 6.3g). Also excavated, either from cemetery BM- V, Kurgan 46 as stated by Litvinsky and Sedov, or Ittifoq (Ittifok),21 was a
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 109 pair of much more elaborate dolphin-amphora earrings, described as gold, with elaborate suspension elements set with turquoise, and loop-in-loop chairs with terminal floral elements suspended from the much more detailed dolphins (Figure 6.3i). The bodies of the amphoras are glass paste. Litvinsky and Sedov (1984, p. 130) describe these latter earrings as imported and the others as local.22 One of the earrings published by Litvinsky and Sedov (1984, Figure 31, earring at center) (Figure 6.3f) was part of a group of gold jewelry studied by a team of scholars led by Maria Fiomena Guerra (Guerra et al. 2009, pp. 178, 180, Figure 2a). In contrast to the description of Litvinsky and Sedov, the scientists describe the earring (no. 274, from BM-V) as made of gold, with an amphora body consisting of “pearl elements” and “a bead of certainly iron pyrite,” rather than any paste, but the images in the publication seem to show a large pearly central element and another bead just above the granulation at the bottom (perhaps that is the iron pyrite bead?).23 The more elaborate earring discussed in the above paragraph (Figure 6.3i) has also been studied by Guerra and her team (Guerra et al. 2009, pp. 178, 181, Figure 2e, Figure 6). In this publication these earrings are said to come from Ittifoq (Ittifok) (Guerra et al. 2009, p. 178).24 The detailed description notes that the wires are strip-twisted, a technique from the Greco-Roman world, and the stone inset in the “shield” is turquoise (Guerra et al. 2009, p. 181). Despite the difference in complexity and details between the two earrings studied technically, the gold alloys are reported as similar (Guerra et al. 2009, p. 184). One last pair of dolphin-amphora earrings comes from either BM-V (Palazzo Venezia 1993, p. 40, Figure 30) or Ittifok (Museum Reitberg 1989, p. 59, Figure 31).25 The earrings are made from gold with bronze elements (Figure 6.3h). The bodies of the amphoras are dark glass paste that is glazed; they appear white and have pearl elements as well.26
Dolphins, dolphin-amphora earrings and the Greek world As Paul Bernard (2008, pp. 104–105) has noted, The end of Greek power in Bactria, around 130 B.C. and the Punjab (around the beginning of our era) did not mean the immediate and complete disappearance of Hellenism from Central Asia. The civilizations that succeeded the Greeks continued to draw on their legacy for a long period, right up to the Islamic conquest. That the dolphin and the hanging amphora as earring elements originate in the Greek world is without doubt (Higgins 1980, pp. 161–163). Belaňová (2017, p. 118) notes that Central Asian examples, “show both the local persistence and the popularity of this form of earrings after the Hellenistic era.” In Belaňová’s review of the earring type (2017, pp. 118–121; p. 118,
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110 Karen S. Rubinson Figure 4; p. 120, Figure 6), she examines not only the earrings discussed above but a more elaborate gold iteration of the theme from Taxila and a simple copper version from Begram. She places the earrings from the Oxus area within the same tradition (see also Neva 2005). The dolphin imagery, often quite stylized on the small and portable earrings, had pride of place overlooking the Classical World’s Oxus River (the Amu Darya) at Ai Khanoum (Leriche & Thoraval 1979). The dolphin was the largest of the three ornamental sculptures that decorated a fountain on the ramparts of the Hellenistic city (Leriche & Thoraval 1979, pp. 194– 196). Although Leriche and Thoraval (1979, p. 203) questioned why a dolphin, associated with marine life, would appear on a fountain in Central Asia, the siting of the city on the Oxus River makes the dolphin an appropriate image. Litvinskiy and Pichikiyan make clear that the Greco-Bactrian temple excavated by them at Takht-i Sangin, in Southern Tajikistan, was dedicated to the deity of the Oxus River (Litvinskiy & Pichikiyan 1981, p. 135) and that the temple continued in use even into the Kushan period (Litvinskiy & Pichikiyan 1981, p. 163). So marine imagery such as the dolphin could be seen as a companion or a representative of the Oxus River deity. That may explain the relative popularity of the dolphin-amphora earrings among the elite women buried in this region near the river.
Interpretation How are we to think about the women buried with these dolphin earrings in cemeteries that belonged to steppe groups who had entered the region from the northeast, in fact bringing an end to the Greco-Bactrian kingdom? The cemeteries contain individuals who are truly “in-between,” both temporally and geographically, following the Hellenistic legacy of the Greco- Bactrian kingdom and prior to the consolidation of the Kushan Empire, to which members of these groups from the east contributed. And the women buried with dolphin-amphora earrings are a miniscule subset of the large numbers of people buried in these cemeteries, most of whom shared their graves with the bones of sheep, a pot or two, and an occasional iron knife. There is no question that these bodily adornments are markers of elite status for the individuals buried with them; their graves are richer than most of the others in at least the Aruktau and Tulkhar cemeteries. In addition, the earrings themselves must have come from one of the towns, possibly in a region where the skills and imagery were at home; these are not hybrid objects, mixing imagery from the classical world with steppe elements. The “classical world” provenance likely enhanced the status constructed by the inclusion of the earrings in the burials.27 Although we cannot be certain that the earrings are markers of gender identity, since the skeletons may not have all been anthropologically sexed even though they were identified as female,28 some of the richer graves contained different status markers, such as the belt plaques and whips
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 111 mentioned earlier, which, in many steppe burials where we have more information, are usually male markers, as was also reported in the cemeteries here. Thus, we can propose that these earrings are likely markers of female gender. The question that is more challenging to answer is whether these earrings are markers of the cultural identity or even ethnic identity of the deceased, a display indicating that these women came from the same regional settlements from which the pottery in the burials came, thus descendants of the settled Greco- Bactrian populations. Alternatively, were these women from the mobile pastoralist groups that came to Bactria from the steppe? Were they of elite status within their group, striving to emulate the Greco-Bactrian descendants and able to afford these “foreign” goods? Evidence of a physical anthropological study by T.N. Kiyatkina (1975, p. 211) can perhaps shed some light on this question, although she studied only a small data set of the burials, primarily from Tulkhar.29 She noted an admixture of Europoid and Mongoloid characteristics that relate deceased occupants to the remains of “Saka” populations of the Altai, Tien Shan, and Southern and Eastern Kazakhstan, the steppe areas to the northwest of the cemetery sites. Furthermore, of the skulls analyzed, 50 percent of the individuals displayed skull modification, a practice associated with steppe groups beyond Central Asia and not with the Hellenized Central Asian populations. Of that subgroup, 60 percent had flattened occipital bones. Eleven of those (eight men and three women) also showed a flattening of the forehead (1975, pp. 211–212). Two of the skulls studied, from Tulkhar Kurgan Group 16, Burial 8 and Tulkhar Kurgan Group16, Burial 18, were from two of the four burials with dolphin-amphora earrings in that cemetery. Both showed a strong modification of the occipital bones (1975, Table 2, p. 124). These individuals are not the only decedents with steppic origins buried in Central Asia in this period who exhibited modified skulls. A rich female buried in the same time period, at Koktepe, near Samarkand (well to the north of the Amu Darya, representing another nomadic group, the Kangju) also had a modified skull (Rapin 2007, p. 54), although the precise form of modification is not detailed.30 In addition, one of the females buried at Tillya Tepe in northern Afghanistan south of the Amu Darya, a very rich site of the mid-1st century CE, associated with a male, who is likely a Yuezhi leader who ruled locally, wore a great deal of jewelry bearing many motifs derived from the classical world (Sarianidi 1985, pp. 254–259). John Boardman (2003, p. 372) has suggested that the woman in Burial 6 had been an Indo- Greek princess, as evidenced by the preponderance of Greek motifs in her ornamental repertoire. However, the woman had a modified skull, in this case both occipital and frontal modification (Sarianidi 1989, p. 130, Figure 46), thus making clear that she came from a nomadic milieu. Thus, she was constructing a new identity, making an exceptional effort to use the local elite imagery in that endeavor (Rubinson 2008, p. 59). As Peter Wells (1992, p. 186) noted in the context of the Roman frontier,
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112 Karen S. Rubinson patterned use of foreign status signs is probably a feature specific to contexts in which cultures are undergoing rapid and disorienting change. The imported objects are used to make visible statements about statuses and identities where those statuses and identities might otherwise be challenged. That is not to say that we can definitively state that all the women buried with the dolphin earrings certainly came from elsewhere and were members of the steppe groups rather than local women who married into these steppe groups as spouses to men who were also elite individuals, or the children (two of the cases) of such individuals. However, there is the physical evidence of the modified skulls to indicate that at least two of the women belonging to the groups who entered Central Asia from the steppe wore these earrings in death, so perhaps others with these particular burial goods may likewise have come from outside the region. As Genevieve Fisher and Diana DiPaolo Loren (2003, p. 228) have pointed out, material culture can play a role in the formation of different identities. And the complexity of social identities, including ethnic identities, is a key issue here, in a period outside of written history with only burial information available. As Sam Lucy (2005, p. 202) noted, “ethnicity is often interwoven with questions of dominance, hierarchy, and social stratification,” as in the case of the Liokup of northern Kenya, among which young men borrow spear styles from more successful neighboring groups in order to improve their status vis-à-vis their peers. In our case of the women with the dolphin earrings in these cemeteries along the Oxus, whether they were women from the town or, more likely, women from the steppe, the use of this Hellenistic imagery on objects likely made within the environment of settlements that were heirs to the Greco-Bactrian tradition31 enhanced the status of the individual women, both through the earrings’ inherent material value and their imagery,32 as well, presumably, as the families with whom they were affiliated and the larger community of which they were a part.
Notes 1 Mandel’shtam, the excavator of some of these cemeteries dated them to the latter third of the 2nd century BCE through 1st century CE (Mandel’shtam 1975; 1966). The dates have been adjusted (see note 3). 2 The expansion of the Greco- Bactrians into present- day northern India and Pakistan from 180 BCE established the Indo-Greek Kingdom, which was to last until around 10 CE, so this area became secondarily Hellenized. 3 Although it was not explicitly stated in the excavation reports, the skeletons were sexed by physical anthropologists, as can be seen, for example in Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 101, where a disturbed and fragmentary skeleton was not assigned a sex. The cranial analyses in the appendix by T.P. Kiyatkina also attest to this (Mandel’shtam 1975, pp. 202–212 and tables 1–3). Physical sex is not necessarily the same as expressed cultural gender, although in the cases discussed here
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 113 female skeletons were apparently culturally women, based on the associated burial goods, as was also the case for the skeletons identified as male, who apparently were culturally men. Since the discussion here is based on excavated and anthropologically sexed individuals, I am using the terminology used in the excavation reports. 4 The burials contained three Eukratides-derived obols which, together with an obol of Heraios, led the excavator Mandel’shtam to date the cemeteries to the last third of the 2nd century BCE to the first half of the 1st century BCE. The Eukratides type coinage is now dated to the 1st century BCE–1st century CE, so Mandel’shtam’s dating should probably be adjusted, according to Alexander Naymark (personal communication). Litvinsky and Sedov (1984, p. 130) suggested the later part of the date range was more accurate based on ceramics, thus towards the end of the range suggested by the redated coins. 5 Some of the metalwork from this cemetery was tested, and there were both bronze and brass, as well as copper objects found (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 225– 230). Not all of the materials were tested. Metal designations here are what are stated by Mandel’shtam. 6 Other burials that contained tacks (Mandel’shtam 1966, plate LVIII) were Kurgan Group 1, Burial 5 (12 tacks) (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 11), Kurgan Group 1, Burial 41 (three tacks) (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 23), and Kurgan Group 2, burial 32 (number not specified) (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 33). 7 Iron plaques that appear to be belt elements also occur in some Tulkhar burials: Kurgan Group 1, Burials 22, 23, and 24; Kurgan Group 5, Burial 3; Kurgan Group 6, Burial 2; Kurgan Group 7, Burials 14 and 19; Kurgan Group 11, Burial 8; Kurgan Group 16, Burial 13 (Mandel’shtam 1966, plate XLI (15–17), plate XLII (1–8)). 8 There were 345 kurgans in this cemetery, in form and contents like those in the Bishkent valley. Of the 345, 268 had been robbed and 150 were excavated. Thirteen were cenotaphs and most were pits (108) with a smaller number of lateral-niche pit tombs (29). Distinctive objects were few; they were not all concentrated in a single group of burials (Mandel’shtam 1975, p. 64). 9 It is hard to tell how much their appearance is due to poor preservation and how much due to unsophisticated original casting. Thus, it is impossible to speak to whether these plaques were brought with the deceased from the northeast or are local copies. 10 These objects appear to be strictly functional variants of the elaborate inlaid gold boot buckles from Tillya Tepe Burial 4 (Sarianidi 1985, Figure 124, pp. 182–183). 11 As discussed by Brosseder, the belt plaques can carry many other symbolic meanings and are generally associated with elite groups (2011, pp. 349–350). See also Linduff (2008, p. 191) for the occurrence of belt plaques within pastoral (and likely) horse-riding societies in the burials of women and children as well as men. 12 There is a great deal of confusion in the literature about which specific earrings come from which cemeteries, especially those of the BM group and “Ittifok.” The two cemeteries that have been reported in detail that I have been able to study are Tulkhar and Aruktau. Thus, it is these cemeteries where the entire burial assemblages are discussed. See also note 20.
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114 Karen S. Rubinson 13 See Mikhail Treister (2004, pp. 306–307) for a discussion of how the Central Asian interpretation of these classical elements returns westward in the 1st century CE. 14 In the Tuklhar cemetery, 348 burials formed 18 groups. All burials were excavated; 130 were robbed, so 218 were reported (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 9). 15 Four other female burials from Tulkhar contained single bells (Mandel’shtam 1966, plate LV, 10–16). These burials contained many personal ornaments and, in one, Kurgan Group 4, Burial 1, a gold fibula was found (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 33–34). Bells occur even more rarely in the other cemeteries discussed, but when they are, it is always in female burials. At Aruktau, Group 8, Kurgan 4, three possible bells were found (Mandel’shtam 1975, pp. 20–21, plate XVIII, 21). At Babashov, Group 10, Kurgan 10, a single bell was found (Mandel’shtam 1975, p. 73, plate XLI, 27). These bells appear to be ornaments, since they are often found together with beads, and so are unlikely to be in these contexts directly associated with animals, as one might expect in a pastoral context. 16 Mirrors are not common among the burials at Tulkhar. Another fragmentary mirror was found in Group 1, Kurgan 28. Two complete mirrors (although the lateral handle of one was broken off) were from burial Group 4, Kurgan 1 and Burial Group 16, Kurgan 1 (Mandel’shtam 1966, p. 115). Those two are the standard Central Asian type of the period, with thickened bands at the rims, lateral handles and central boss-like projections, and it appears that the fragment from burial Group 16, Kurgan 18 is of the same Central Asian type. The type ultimately derives from the Greco-Roman world. No mirrors were excavated at Aruktau; several, mostly whole but also fragmentary ones, were found at Babashov (Mandel’shtam 1975, pls. XXXIV, XXXV, and XXXVI, 1). The Babashov examples were of varied types. Some of them have the thickened rims and lateral handles characteristic for Central Asian mirrors, but only one may have the distinctive central projection seen on the more elaborate examples. Well-preserved versions of this mirror type were excavated in three of the very rich female burials at Tillya Tepe, an approximately contemporary site in what is today Afghanistan (Sarianidi 1985, 3.71, p. 245, 5.12, p. 253, 6.30, p. 258). Large numbers of similar mirrors were found in the excavations at Taxila, in northwest Pakistan (once part of the Indo-Greek kingdom), dating to the same period (Vassilkov 2010, pp. 22–23). 17 Two similar objects were found in Kurgan Group 5, Burial 4 and Kurgan Group 16, Burial 1. The object from the latter burial has a slightly flattened and pierced top (Mandel’shtam 1966, plate XLV, 17). Thus, they may be garment pins. 18 See the discussion below of the earrings from either Ittifok or BM-V. 19 There were no weapons of any kind found in this cemetery, except for three arrowheads. As Mandel’shtam notes (1975, p. 48), this is very different from the Tulkhar cemetery. He does not think that all weapons were looted from the cemetery, but did not have another explanation. There were even very few knives (Mandel’shtam 1975, p. 50). 20 The two earrings in figure 6.3f are also illustrated in Masov, Bobomulloev and Bubnova (2005, Figure 8, p. 122) where the images of the two earrings are reversed from the Litvinsky and Sedov image. In the Masov, Bobomulloev and Bubnova (2005), they are described as being made of gold, bronze, pearls, and glass paste.
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 115 21 These earrings have been exhibited several times and have in some cases (e.g. Palazzo Venezia Rome 1993, pp. 39–40) have been labeled as coming from the Ittifok cemetery (see Litvinsky & Sedov 1984, pp. 99–100 for brief information about the cemetery). Elsewhere (e.g. Museum Rietberg Zürich 1989, pp. 58– 59), they are identified as deriving from BM-V. They have even been identified as coming from Tulkhar Cemetery (Pugachenkova 1986, p. 187). The website of the National Museum of Antiquities of Tajikistan does not specify the site of origin, but Guerra et al. (2009) say the earrings come from Ittifok, as does the National Museum of Tadjikistan catalogue (Masov, Bobmulloev & Bubnova 2005, no. 18, p. 126), where they are captioned as being from the Parkher cemetery. Ittifoq/Ittifok is in the Parkher region (Masov, Babmulloev & Bubnova 2005, p. 113). 22 Should the earrings in fact come from a burial at Ittifok, then their difference from the others might provide further layers of information, since Ittifok is on the Panj River, east of the Bishkent valley and directly north along the river from Ai Khanum. 23 The earrings are said to be of gold, bronze, pearls, and glass paste in Masov, Bobmulloev and Bubnova (2005 p. 122, Figure 8) in the French description of the materials (the English and Russian descriptions are altogether incorrect). 24 This origin is different from that published by Litvinsky and Sedov, BM-V, Kurgan 46 (1984, Figure 32, pp. 130–131). 25 BM- V is likely since that is the attribution on the National Museum of Antiquities of Tajikistan website (www.afc.ryukoku.ac.jp/tj/tajikistanEnglish/ flameset/ancientflame.html) and the catalogue of the collection as well (Masov, Bobmulloev & Bubnova 2005, p. 122, Figure 10). Note that the image on the website shows the earrings upside down. 26 In the museum catalogue, the materials of the earrings are described correctly in French but incorrectly in English and Russian (Masov, Bobmulloev, & Bubnova 2005, p. 122, Figure 10). 27 For the importance and continuation of the classical tradition in Central Asia after the end of Greco-Bactrian and Indo-Bactrian rule, see Bernard 1994, especially pp. 127–128. 28 Some physical anthropological analysis has been reported in detail (Kiyatkina 1975, pp. 202–225). A sample of skulls from Tulkhar, Aruktau, and Babashov, 86 in total, were thoroughly studied: 41 were skulls of males, 39 of females, and 6 of children. The same sexes and child identification were reported within the site reports. 29 My thanks to Selin Nugent for assistance in understanding the physical anthropological data. 30 For more information on this burial see Rapin et al. 2001. 31 The importance of this Greco-Bactrian tradition is underscored by other kinds of objects also found in these cemeteries, for example signet rings with “Greek” imagery, such as the brass ring with a Greco-Roman goddess carrying bow and arrow found on the hand of the female buried at Tulkhar, Kurgan Group 4, Burial 1 (Mandel’shtam 1966, pp. 33–35, 121–122, plate LVI, no. 4). 32 The fact that the pair of earrings from Tulkar, Kurgan Group 5, Burial 7 were enhanced with added beads and perhaps mechanically modified, as described above, underscores the value of the earrings and their imagery and may suggest they were difficult to obtain.
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References www.afc.ryukoku.ac.jp/tj/tajikistanEnglish/flameset/ancientflame.html National Museum of Antiquities of Tajikistan, accessed 8/ 9/ 17. Belaňová, P 2017, ‘Ancient adornments of Central Asia influenced by the Greek jewellery of the classical and Hellenistic period,’ Studia Hercynia, vol. XX, no. 1, pp. 111–126. Bernard, P 1994, ‘The Greek kingdoms of Central Asia,’ in J Harmatta, BN Puri & GF Etamadi (eds), History of civilizations of Central Asia, vol. II, The development of sedentary and nomadic civilizations: 700 B.C. to A.D. 250, pp. 99–129. UNESCO Publishing, Paris. Bernard, P 2008, ‘The Greek colony at Ai Khanum and Hellenism in Central Asia,’ in F Hiebert & P Cambon (eds), Afghanistan: hidden treasure from the National Museum, Kabul, pp. 81–105. National Geographic, Washington, DC. Boardman, J 2003, ‘The Tillya Tepe gold: a closer look,’ Ancient West and East, vol. 2, no. 2, pp. 348–374. Brosseder, U 2011, ‘Belt plaques as an indicator of East- West relations in the Eurasian Steppe at the turn of the millennia,’ in U Brosseder & BK Miller (eds), Xiongnu archaeology: multidisciplinary perspectives of the first steppe empire in Inner Asia, Bonn contributions to Asian Archaeology, vol. 5, pp. 343–424. Vor- und Frühgeschichtliche Archäologie, Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität, Bonn. Colburn, C and Heyn, MK 2008, ‘Introduction: bodily adornment and identity,’ in C Colburn and MK Heyn (eds), Reading a dynamic canvas: adornment in the ancient Mediterranean world, pp. 1–12. Newcastle, Cambridge Scholars. Fisher, G & Loren, DP 2003, ‘Embodying identity in archaeology, introduction,’ Cambridge Archaeological Journal, vol. 12, no. 2, pp. 225–230. Gruber, M; Il’yasov, J; & Kaniuth, K 2012, ‘A decorated ivory belt from Tilla Bulak, southern Uzbekistan,’ Ancient civilizations from Scythia to Siberia, vol. 18, no. 2, pp. 339–375. Guerra, MF; Demortier, G; Vitobello, ML; Bobomulloev, S; Bagault, D; Borel, T; & Mirsaidov, I 2009, ‘Analytical study of the manufacturing techniques of Kushan gold jewellery (National Museum of Antiquities of Tajikistan),’ ArcheoSciences/ Revue d’archéométrie, vol. 33, pp. 177–185. Higgins, R 1980, Greek and Roman Jewellery, 2nd edn, University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles. Kiyatkina, TP 1975, ‘Kraniologicheskiye materialy iz kurgannykh mogil’nikov serevnoĭ baktrii,’ in AM Mandel’shtam, Pamiatniki Kochevnikov Kushanskogo Vremeni v Severnoi Baktrii, Trudy Tadzhikskoi Arkheologischeskoi Ekspeditsii, Instituta Arkheologii AN SSSR i Instituta Istorii im. A Donisha AN Tadzhikskoi SSR, vol. VII, pp. 202– 212 + tables 1– 3. Nauka, Leningradskoe otdelenie, Leningrad. Leriche, P & and Thoraval, J 1979, ‘La fontaine du rampart de l’Oxus a Ai Khanoum,’ Syria, vol. 56, fasc. 1/2, pp. 171–205. Linduff, KM 2008, ‘The gender of luxury and power among the Xiongnu in Eastern Eurasia,’ in KM Linduff & KS Rubinson (eds), Are all warriors male? gender roles on the Ancient Eurasian Steppe, pp. 175–211. Altamira Press, Lanham, New York, Toronto, and Plymouth, UK.
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Greek imagery among the pastoralists 117 Litvinskiy, BA & Pichikiyan, IR 1981, ‘The temple of the Oxus,’ The Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, no. 2, pp. 133–167. Litvinsky, BA, & Sedov, AV 1984, Kul’ty I Ritualy Kushanskoĭ Baktrii: Pogrebal’nyĭ obryzd, Nauka, Glavnaya Redaktsiya Vostochnoĭ Literatury, Moscow. Lucy, S 2005, ‘Ethnic and cultural identities,’ in M Diaz-Andreu, S Lucy, S Babić Staša & DN Edwards (eds), The archaeology of identity: approaches to gender, age, status, ethnicity and religion, pp. 175–219. Routledge, London and New York. Mandel’shtam, AM 1975, Pamiatniki Kochevnikov Kushanskogo Vremeni v Severnoi Baktrii (Monuments of nomads of Kushan times in northern Bactria), Trudy Tadzhikskoi Arkheologischeskoi Ekspeditsii, Instituta Arkheologii AN SSSR i Instituta Istorii im. A Donisha AN Tadzhikskoi SSR, vol. VII, Nauka, Leningradskoe otdelenie, Leningrad. Mandel’shtam, AM 1966, Kochevniki na puti v Indiya (Nomads on the way to India), Trudy Tadzhikskoi Arkheologicheskoi Ekspeditsii, Instituta Arkheologii AN SSSR i Instituta Istorii im. A. Donisha AN Tadzhikskoi SSR, vol. V. Nauka, Moscow/Leningrad. Masov, RM; Bobomulloev, SG; & Bubnova, MA (eds) 2005, Osorkhonai Millii Bostonii Tojikiston (National Museum of Antiquities of Tajikistan), OmbT, Dunshanbe. Museum Rietberg Zürich 1989, OXUS, 2000 Jahre Kunst am Oxus- Fluss in Mittelasien, Neue Funde aus der Sowjetrepublik Tadschikistan, Museum Rietberg Zürich, Zürich. Neva, E 2005, ‘Types and forms of ancient jewelry from Central Asia (IV BC-IV- AD)’, Transoxiana 10, July: www.transoxiana.org/0110/neva-jewelry.html Palazzo Venezia Roma 1993, OXUS, tesori dell- Asia Centrale, Edizioni de Luca, Rome. Pugachenkova, GA 1986, Shedevry Sredneĭ Azii, Izlatel’stvo literaturyi iskusstva imeni Gafura Gulyama, Tashkent. Puri, BN 1994, ‘The Kushans,’ in J Harmatta, BN Puri & GF Etamadi (eds), History of civilizations of Central Asia, vol. II, The development of sedentary and nomadic civilizations: 700 B.C. to A.D. 250, pp. 247–263. UNESCO Publishing, Paris. Rapin, C 2007, ‘Nomads and the shaping of Central Asia: from the Early Iron Age to the Kushan period’ in J Cribb & G Herrmann (eds), After Alexander: Central Asia before Islam, Proceedings of the British Academy 133, pp. 29–72. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Rapin, C; Isamiddinov, M; & Khasanov, M 2001, ‘La tombe d’une princesse nomade à Koktepe près de Samarkand,’ Comptes rendus des séances de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, 145e année, no. 1, pp. 33–92. Rubinson, KS 2008, ‘Tillya Tepe: aspects of gender and cultural identity,’ in KM Linduff & KS Rubinson (eds), Are all warriors male? Gender roles on the Ancient Eurasian Steppe, pp. 51–63. Altamira Press, Lanham, New York, Toronto, and Plymouth, UK. Sarianidi, V 1985, The Golden hoard of Bactria: from the Tillya-tepe excavations in northern Afghanistan, Harry N. Abrams, New York. Sarianidi, V 1989, Khram I nekropol? Tillyatepe. Nauka, Moscow. Treister, M 2004, ‘Eastern jewellery in Sarmatian burials and Eastern elements in the jewellery production of the North Pontic Ara in the 1st century AD,’ Iranica Antiqua, vol. 39, pp. 295–319.
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118 Karen S. Rubinson Vassilkov, YV 2010, ‘Pre-Mauryan “rattle-mirrors” with artistic designs from Scythian burial mounds of the Altai Region in the light of Sanskrit sources,’ Electronic Journal of Vedic Studies, vol. 17, no. 3, pp. 1–25. http://www.laurasianacademy. com/Mirrorscompressed.pdf. Wells, PS 1992, ‘Tradition, identity, and change beyond the Roman Frontier,’ in EM Schortman and PA Urban (eds), Resources, power, and interregional interaction, pp. 175–188. Plenum Press, New York.
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7 The power and authority of exotic accessories Ornamentation of human and equine haniwa at Tsukamawari Tomb 4, Gunma, Japan Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff
Introduction Ornamentation of humans and animals in mortuary practice is generally distinguished in one of two categories: one linked to religious belief and cultural traditions (inscribed badges, amulets, food offerings, attire, etc.), and another displaying the status of the deceased individual (weapons, ornaments, dress, tools, etc.) (Dierkens 1986). Moreover, objects in mortuary settings are thought to have agency in relational terms, acting relative to each other and not singly (Strathern 1988, p. 273). Adorned haniwa 埴輪, fired terracotta sculptures on cylindrical bases that stood atop earthen mounded burials (kofun 古墳) of the elite in early state-level Japan, we will argue, gained both ritual and political potency through displays of elaborate ornamentation that reflected the dress and adornment worn by the deceased and members of his funeral party. Some of those accessories were borrowed from examples and reflected knowledge of customs practiced outside of Japan and, because of their rarity and limited possession among the elite, elevated the standing of the deceased. In addition, the clay haniwa acted in sets and replicated the groups of individuals who conducted and participated in the mourning rituals for their deceased chieftain at the grave. Such impressive and ever-present haniwa on display in a public space outside of the tomb chamber were adorned with clothing and accessories that replicated that of the participants in mortuary rituals. They created a social skin (Fisher & Loren 2003, p. 225) that served to visualize the chieftain’s individual and regional prominence and sociopolitical identity at the time of death and long after (MCJ 2001, pp. 52–53). We will analyze ornaments worn by the group of haniwa, comprised of four standing female figures, a male figure seated on a stool, a male haniwa on bended knees, and two ornamented horses accompanied by three grooms, which were uncovered from the trapezoidal front sector of Tomb 4 at Tsukamawari, Gunma Prefecture, dating from the first half of the 6th century as a case in point (Figure 7.1). We have chosen the group from this tomb in
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Figure 7.1 Tomb 4, Tsukamawari site, Gunma Prefecture, early 6th century CE. Adapted from Gunma Kenritsu Rekishi Hakubutsukan Tomo no Kai 1996, p. 35.
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 121 part because of its high level of preservation and also because of excavated artifact analogies that clarify local or non- local provenance. Although we do not know exactly how the scale and shape of this tomb were controlled or how the rituals at the tomb were actually performed, the figural haniwa unearthed in situ at Tomb 4 are believed to have functioned as stand- ins for the human participants who performed the original funeral (MCJ 2001, pp. 38–39). The clothing, weapons, equine trappings, and articles of personal adornment on these figures resemble those of the equestrian peoples of northeastern Asia during the 3rd to the 5th centuries. For instance, body armor excavated in Japan includes helmets similar to examples known from excavations in Mongolia and from armor in the Koguryo style (Rawski 2015, p. 31). The Koguryo on the Korean Peninsula adopted great swords, with ring or round pommels (Boots 1934), especially for male royalty, similar to those depicted with haniwa at Tomb 4. Items such as these, we suggest, represent the eastern frontier of a horseback-riding culture from Eurasia. We will argue that these adornments were signs of a social and ritual identity (Fisher & Loren 2003, p. 225) that promoted and/or documented elevated social order, displayed affinity with other mound-building communities, and implied political authority and ritual potency through referencing extra-local models. There are no exact parallels to the haniwa tradition in China or Korea, although models of human figures and animals did accompany the dead in both areas and, in some instances to be explored below, may have inspired the adornment of haniwa figures.1 Importantly, unlike Japanese haniwa, the Chinese mortuary sculpture formed part of the celebration and expression of the Chinese quest for immortality, beginning at least as early as the Qin dynasty (3rd century BCE) (Wu 1995, pp. 122, 126). Haniwa displays share with the Chinese Spirit Road presentations of the features of outdoor placement, eventual unrestricted viewing, and a mortuary setting.2 The haniwa tradition, therefore, appears to be a Japanese practice, but one that shares some details of “foreign” figural types from 5th-and 6th- century northeast Asia, especially “foreign” forms of adornment, such as jewelry, swords, grooms with horses, clothing, and armor of continental origin.3 The haniwa sets re-enacted mortuary rituals and in doing so touted their knowledge of “foreign” by displaying exotic ornaments and objects on the figures. That presentation showed signs of their connections far beyond the local setting, as well as their power to possess and use such exotic items to impress and project their standing and status in sober rituals of death and political succession, and into the future. By contrast, the continental figural tradition marked reverence for ancestors by showing those indebted to and protective of the deceased, such as powerful notable worthies, as well as the servant class and the military. The Japanese haniwa practice included representations of ritual leaders who could insure political succession and maintenance of power. Exotic adornment and animals (horses) must have added to the effectiveness of the ritual leaders represented and suggested assurance of succession in leadership.
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122 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff Our analysis and discussion of the adornment of haniwa at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 and the relationship to continental models is based on archaeological evidence from the site reports, supplemented by evidence found in early written East Asian records, such as Weizhi 魏志 (3rd century), Nihon shoki 日本書紀 (early 8th century, Japan), and Paekche’s Samguk sagi 三國史記 (18 BCE–660 CE; compiled first half of 12th century). Although there are credibility concerns with all three sources and their “interpretations” of history, in conjunction with archaeological data, they can be used judiciously to provide a fuller picture of the events and beliefs of their time.4
The setting The Tsukamawari tomb site, excavated in 1977, is located in the northwestern corner of the Kanto Plain in Gunma Prefecture (about 86 miles north of Tokyo), far to the northeast of the highest concentration of large keyhole-shaped tombs (zenpō kōenfun 前方後円墳) in the Nara Basin and Osaka alluvial plains (Figure 7.2). An area of prime agricultural land and a strategic location for land traffic that began to play a power role during the 5th century, this area represents the eastern expansion of the kofun tomb style and the attempted incursion of Nara Basin power into the provinces (Migishima, et al. 2011, p. 10; Piggot 1997, p. 47). The most prominent example in the area is Tenjinyama Kofun, a large mid-5th century moated keyhole tomb that lies just a few miles to the northwest of the Tsukamawari tomb group. At 210 meters in length, Tenjinyama Kofun is the largest keyhole tomb in the eastern part of Japan. To its east is Nyotaisan Kofun, a moated, scallop- shaped tomb mound (hotategai shiki 帆立貝式) of 106 meters in length. The distribution of large-scale keyhole tombs in peripheral regions provides evidence of close ties and interchange with the paramount leaders in the Osaka/Nara area, with the Tenjinyama tomb cluster marking the eastern frontier of the center’s domain (Piggot 1997, p. 51). Satellite keyhole tombs were constructed in regions where political power was consolidating in the mid-5th century, and powerful local chieftains and their collective burial spaces functioned as a way to memorialize the dead in present and future time (Fahlander 2008, p. 4; Barnes 2007). The enormous size of such tombs highlights the importance of this area to the coalescent polity. Terracotta haniwa were first placed atop mounded tombs as an external context to mark funeral rituals and elite burials during Japan’s early Kofun period (3rd to 4th centuries CE). The earliest haniwa were plain cylindrical jars and house and bird shapes while, later, articles of importance to chieftains, such as quivers, shields, swords, armor, and boats added a protective military focus to the funerary sculptural tradition (MCJ 2001). The elaborate jewelry and hairdos on figural haniwa and the parade tack on the horses often copied in clay imported types of paraphernalia and materials of manufacture, including ones made of iron and gilt bronze
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 123
Dispersion of Keyhole Tombs over 140 meters in length
Osaka Okayama Kyoto
Miyagi
GUNMA
Aichi
Miyazaki Nara
Nara
Figure 7.2 Map of kofun dispersement. Adapted Hakubutsukan 2004, p. 98.
0
0
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Kokuritsu
and ones embellished with semi-precious stones. Many such objects have been recently excavated from 6th-century burials, such as the well-known gilt bronze saddle fittings and strap ornaments, openwork gold crowns, earrings, beaded necklaces, loop-handled swords, gilt bronze shoes with gold spangles, and iron longswords—all uncovered at Fujinoki Kofun in Nara Prefecture dating from the latter half of the 6th century (Pearson 1992, pp. 228–229, Figure 38; pls. 155, 156; Figure 26.4-10). The public display of these imported types in the form of clay copies of rare materials, objects, and styles of adornment suggest that they functioned as prestige items in the creation of a local elite identity. That construction must have allowed these buried elites entry into social negotiations well beyond the local realm (Colburn & Heyn 2008, p. 1; Sørensen 1997, p. 95), as their tomb sizes and the elaboration of haniwa replicating precious materials, increased over time (Pearson 1992, p. 201). Such attempts to display elevated standing, then, were accomplished through the monumentality of their tombs and the exhibition of statuary of adorned ritual and military leaders with attributes of their status—ritual accouterments, such as
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124 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff jewelry, mirrors, herbal pouches, horses, weapons, and shields.5 Together these signs were significant within their local political and ritual context and also in comparison with others in the region beyond their dominion and with whom they competed for land and power.
Tomb 4, Tsukamawari, Gunma Prefecture Tomb 4 is a 22.5-meter-long scallop-style tomb from the early 6th century. Two cist tombs, probably the graves of local leaders, perhaps a husband and wife, were discovered in the rounded section: the grave in the center was 3.3 meters in length and 1.5 meters wide and lined with stones; a second, smaller grave was found 6 meters to the north, but no bones or grave goods were recovered (Gunma-ken Kyōiku Iinkai 1980, pp. 177–181). Tomb 4 yielded 304 haniwa— 253 were cylindrical haniwa that were lined up around the perimeter of the rounded mound, with longsword-and shield- shaped haniwa placed alternately outside them, a house-shaped haniwa near the second, smaller grave, and figural and horse haniwa on the front trapezoid-shaped section. Four clay female figures were found along the right side front of this section, along with a male figure seated on a stool, and one on bended knees. On the upper part of the front trapezoid were two ornamented horses accompanied by three grooms (Gunma-ken Kyōiku Iinkai 1980, pp. 263–298).6 It is not known exactly how the haniwa were
Figure 7.3 Haniwa group from Tomb 4. Adapted from Ōta-shi Kyōiku Iinkai 2003, p. 16.
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 125 originally placed or which directions they faced, but their broken remains have now been reconstructed and positioned to correlate, to the extent possible, with the archaeological excavation reports. Ornamentation and meaning of the haniwa on Tsukamawari Tomb 4 The nine figural haniwa can be divided by clothing and hairstyles into three groups: (1) three male grooms who accompany the chieftains’ horses; (2) two male chieftains, who likely represent the deceased leader and his successor; and (3) four female ritual specialists. (1) Grooms and horses Two grooms grasp the reins of two horses, while the third figure’s arms are raised in a gesture of offering (Figure 7.3). The three figures wear unadorned hip-length belted tunics and sport tall pointed hats, attire worn by those who worked with horses on the continent, such as an earthenware burial figure of a groom and camel from a Xianbei 鲜卑 tomb from Hohhot, IMAR and dated from the Northern Wei period or late 5th century (Watt 2004, Figure 50) and the well-known Silla (early 6th century) pair of vessels in the shape of a warrior on horseback from the Geumnyeongchong Tomb (Gold Bell Tomb) in central Korea (Lee & Leidy 2013, plate 34) (Figure 7.4). The haniwa with clasped hands may represent the overseer of the stable because red iron oxide face paint, still visible on his cheeks, nose, and forehead, distinguish him from the other two figures as a person of higher status. The overseer and one groom have belts looped on their left, while the other groom has his tied on his right; what meaning might be attached to this difference needs further research. All three figures wear their hair long and parted in the middle, tied and looped up, with cords securing each section; a third section hangs straight down their backs. This style, called sagemizura 下げ実豆良, was typically worn by kings, elites, and warriors for ritual performances (Wakasa 2009, p. 52). The three figures here may have been depicted with this hairstyle because their jobs were related to caring for the chieftains’ horses and because they were participants in a ritual performance of succession at the grave. The figures are relatively unadorned, with no beads or other jewelry and no patterns on their clothing, and their lower bodies are not articulated so we do not know what type of trousers they wore or if they wore boots. Clearly, they are of lower status, unlike their equine counterparts! The equids that stand on kofun, and especially those at Tomb 4, are representations of horses and ponies. They are presented as robust and plump, with smoothed coats—that is, they appear to be groomed and they display combed (and waxed?) manes. As such, these attributes suggest that they represent trained animals, not undisciplined or shaggy steppe ponies. Since systematic animal husbandry was not practiced in Japan until the
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Figure 7.4 Vessel in the shape of a warrior on horseback (one of a pair). Adapted from Lee & Leidy 2013, plate 34.
7th century (Sekiyama 2011, p. 141), one must wonder why and how they were understood within the context of kofun building in the 5th and 6th centuries. That horses of this type were represented here in military countenance and context is related to the history of relations between the Korean Peninsula and Japan in the mid-to-late Kofun period, as will be demonstrated below. The 3rd-century Chinese Weizhi 魏志 (Records of Wei), for instance, states that there were no cattle, horses, tigers, leopards, or magpies in Wa 倭 (Chinese name for what is now Japan) (Sekiyama 2011, p. 142; Nakayama Section 5). According to Sekiyama (2011, p. 142), it was not until the beginning of the 5th century that excavated bones of horses and cattle can be documented in significant quantities in Japan. They have been found at 22 sites in total and can be dated to the end of the 5th century (Sekiyama 2011,
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 127 p. 154), or very close in date to our early 6th-century tomb at Tsukamawari. That bones of horses (although their types were not reported) dated to this period were excavated in association with Korean-style earthenware and Sueki stoneware introduced from the Korean Peninsula suggests to Sekiyama that horses came to the Japanese Archipelago along with Korean settlers. This is partially explained in a late 4th-century inscription on a tablet from Jilin Province (Guangkaituwang bei 廣開土王碑), which tells us that Wa troops went to the Korean Peninsula to fight against the Koguryo in 391, and again between 399 and 400, followed by another campaign in 404 to assist the Paekche armies as they battled against the mounted warriors of Koguryo. The Paekche warriors, along with their Japanese supporters, lost in those encounters, but the Koguryo cavalry and its effectiveness must have impressed them because following the defeat, Paekche sent horses to Wa. This allowed Japanese troops to fight alongside Paekche soldiers against the mounted Koguryo in later battles. Thus, according to Sekiyama (2011, p. 155), horses were received in Japan for specific and limited purposes, were neatly buried in graves, and were respectfully treated at that time, as can be evidenced at the Shitomiyakita burial site (Sekiyama 2011, p. 141). By the end of the 5th century, leather craftworkers had also immigrated to Japan from Koguryo. Horses, thus, played an important role in military affairs and ceremonies among local leaders, as can be witnessed in the armor, harnesses, and haniwa horses excavated from kofun such as at Tsukamawari Tomb 4.7 Frozen into a generalized haniwa presentation, these animals were elaborately tacked war horses that display the intervention of human training. One must imagine that the horses could not have been imported without the attendant grooms, trainers, and harnessing equipment, and this is evident at the Tsukamawari site. Their haniwa grooms wear the pointed caps and tunics typical of Eurasian and northeast Asian equestrians (Figure 7.3). These equine figures and their grooms were thereby more than passive signs of respect; they bore the signs of cultural difference, as well as the capacity to bring prestige and protection. The haniwa horses show well the saddlery of the period. The saddle structure and type were introduced from the mainland by the early-to mid-5th century (Barnes 2015, p. 355), and iron production technology8 necessary to fashion metal bits and stirrups had been known in Japan since the early 5th century (Barnes 2015, p. 278; Mizoguchi 2013; Pearson 1992, pp. 143 and 193). Saddle ornaments were typically gilt bronze. The saddles had wooden frames with flaring bow and cantle, probably leather seats, decorated saddle pads, mudguards, and/or shabraques (saddlecloth), and stirrups suspended from the center of the tree, with breast straps and cruppers in the right place to stabilize the saddle. Bells and ornaments hung at the horses’ necks and from the straps that extended from the saddle over the rump of the horse. Almost all of this is tack for ridden horses, and the bridles, even those with a much-enlarged, impractical psalia (cheekpiece) derived ultimately from
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128 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff
Figure 7.5 Haniwa horse. Adapted from Gunma Kenritsu Rekishi Hakubutsukan Tomo no Kai 1996, p. 69.
central Siberian types, although the haniwa examples probably copied a Korean prototype (Lee & Leidy 2013, plate 34) produced in Japan (Barnes 2015, p. 355). Earlier examples of actual bits and psalia come from tombs, such as the Otani Kofun at Wakayama City south of Nara (Kidder 1987), dating from the 5th century and were represented on the haniwa horses from Tomb 4 in the 6th century. It was the idea of such powerful animals and their essential role as symbols of authority that was paramount, and not a precise description of either the conformation of the animal or consistency of its tack. For example, the attachment of the stirrups over the saddle seat as depicted on the horse from Tomb 4 illustrated in Figure 7.5 could compromise pressure from the leg the rider used to keep balance and might unseat the rider. In addition, the reins appear to be “bearing reins” used for stabilizing the horse’s head, but not for guiding the animal. This type of rein system is used on driven horses, with additional reins for directing movement. The saddles and decorations that hung from the tack, as well as the metalworking technology used to produce them, demonstrate Japan’s cultural and economic ties with the continent, most directly with Korea. These rituals and use of such expertise and artifact types record local adaptation.
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 129 (2) Male chieftains The two male haniwa figures, one seated and one kneeling, may represent a deceased chieftain and his successor (Mizuno 1977). The seated figure is likely the deceased leader, and the individual who will become the next chieftain kneels before him (Figure 7.3). The tableau is a clear visualization of the transmission of power. The succession ceremony reenacted here was one component of a ruler’s funeral, often replayed in haniwa arrangements, that was intended to show those in attendance that the deceased approved of his successor and to assure his followers that the transmission was peaceful and uncontested (OFCAH Osaka Furitsu Chikatsu Asuka Hakubutsukan 2005, p. 66). The two chieftains are clothed and adorned as high-status individuals. Neither wears a crown, however, so their sagemizura hairstyles are easily identifiable. The two wear identical single-strand necklaces comprised of numerous small round clay beads (marudama 丸玉; also kodama 小玉) and one larger round bead in the center; there are wide, (probably leather) belts over their tunics, padded trousers tied above their knees, and high (leather) boots. This type of clothing was appropriate for horseback riding and was worn by groups living in northeast Asia. Archaeological evidence documents close ties between the Dongbei (Manchuria) region in the northeast region of China and the area finally occupied by the Silla Kingdom (57 BCE–935 CE) around 1000 BCE or earlier (Nelson 1993, pp. 106–109, 121; 2003, p. 118; see also Nelson, this volume). Therefore, contacts between northeast Asia and the Korean Peninsula had a long history that can explain the sharing of all sorts of customs, including clothing. The seated deceased chieftain (missing both arms) wears pantaloons of a spotted pattern also found on the clothing of haniwa in central Japan and adorning painted funerary images in Korea, such as a group of figures wearing spotted robes in a mural in the “Tomb of the Dancers,” Muyong (5th century), Ji’an City, Jilin Province, China, once part of Koguryo (Barnes 2013, p. 20). Seated haniwa—some with their legs crossed in front, others with legs hanging down over short platform seats—are rare and represent elite individuals, such as chieftains, zither (koto 琴) players, who provide ritual music, and some female ritual specialists; seated haniwa generally have fully rendered upper and lower torsos (Gunma Kenritsu Rekishi Hakubutsukan Tomo no Kai 1996, pp. 56–59). The kneeling chieftain haniwa, however, is dressed for battle, with long forearm protectors (kote 籠手), a sword (tachi 大刀), and a pouch attached to his belt at the right side of his waist. The clay forearm protectors and pouch represent originals that were likely made of leather. The arm protectors have bands with round bells attached around the wrists and pieces that extend over the tops of the hands. The bands, bells, and wrist pieces were probably made of metal, but are rendered in clay on the haniwa. Arm protectors such as these are typically found on haniwa representing chieftains, elites, and
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130 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff warriors, but based on our observations, few haniwa have arm guards of this size and detail, and it is very rare that belled wrist bracelets are added. Presumably both suggest the high status of this chieftain figure in the physical and spiritual worlds. In sum, the seated haniwa likely represents the spirit of the deceased chieftain. Although he is now defenseless without his arms or a sword, his position on the low stool, legs hanging straight down, places him physically and psychologically above his kneeling companion, whose sword, arm protectors, and wrist bells both protect him from the spirits at the grave and show his position as the new ruler—the sword and arm guards symbolizing his military might and the bells his ability to summon the spirits (MCJ 2001, pp. 38–39). (3) Female ritual specialists The remaining four standing female haniwa oversee the ritual offerings for the funeral and succession ceremonies (Figure 7.3, right). Figures such as these are usually interpreted as representing ritual specialists because they hold shamanic implements like swords and mirrors and offering vessels.9 One of the females, likely a shaman, is distinctive because she holds a decorated great sword, another has her left arm raised and appears to be dancing, while the other two haniwa present offering cups. All four figures are “ornamented” with symbols of religious/spiritual power through their clothing, beads, bracelets, hairstyles, and face paint, and carry special implements that have ritual significance. Figurines have also been discovered at Korean sites that include images of dogs and birds and other stylized bone and shell figures that may represent females, and shell objects that resemble masks. These items are thought to represent shamanistic practices and deities that protected households and communities and assured peace and good harvest (Nelson 1993, p. 106; Kim 1986, p. 38). Although the villages that produced such figures date from the last millennium BCE on the Korean Peninsula, they may have provided some distant precedent for the developed tradition in Japan. Haniwa 1, at 78.7 cm, is the tallest of the group, and is a female ritual specialist (miko 巫女) (Figure 7.6). The distinction between male and female haniwa can sometimes be made on the basis of physical characteristics such as breasts, but other reliable indicators include hairstyles, type of clothing, and number and type of bead strands. For example, Haniwa 1 displays a specialized hairstyle worn only by women. It is not known what the style was called in the Kofun era, but today it is referred to as shimada mage 島田髷 because it resembles an Edo-period style by that name (Wakasa 2009, p. 52). To create the style, long hair is brought up in a ponytail, divided, tucked under in front and secured in the middle with a cord. All female haniwa across the archipelago (and over several centuries) display this hairstyle. Another indicator that Haniwa 1 is involved in graveside rituals are the wide
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 131
Figure 7.6 Female shaman. Adapted from Gunma Kenritsu Rekishi Hakubutsukan Tomo no Kai 1996, p. 60.
bands of iron oxide that are visible on both the left and right side of the face, from beneath the eyes to the ears and chin and across the forehead. In addition to distinguishing certain haniwa as key performers at the gravesite, the red pigments were believed to provide special protection to those associated with funerals, following a long tradition in Japan of painting bones with iron oxide for secondary burials. Haniwa 1 is dressed in a patterned tunic with a wide saw-tooth patterned sash tied horizontally in a bow across her chest. Dress for female shamans in the Kofun period was a long-sleeved short tunic worn over a long skirt (mo 裳), with a band of cloth (tasuki 襷) draped over the front of both shoulders then wound around the waist and tied in front. Although haniwa did not
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132 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff exist on the continent for comparison, painted murals, such as the east wall of the Kakjochong Tomb in Koguryo (5th century CE), show figures wearing similar wrapped and belted tunics over wide trousers, a style ubiquitous throughout most of the peninsula. A square pouch, likely holding fragrant herbs for ritual use, hangs from this sash, and the figure wears round earrings and a necklace.10 The figure also grasps a ceremonial great sword called a kabutsuchi tachi 頭椎大刀 in her right hand, indicating that she commands the other ritual specialists. Haniwa 1 also wears heavy, double circular earrings, bracelets on each wrist, and a single strand of round beads. Beads in Kofun-period Japan were thought to be embodiments of special powers. The magatama 勾玉 in particular, because of its unique curved form, held important symbolism in early Japan (and on the Korean Peninsula); it marked high-status burials and functioned as a symbol of political power.11 Haniwa 1 wears a strand of round beads (marudama 丸玉; also kodama 小玉) with a single magatama in the center. Although the beads on the haniwa are formed of clay, many similar necklaces of jadeite, glass, and other materials have been recovered from numerous Japanese kofun (see Tanizawa, this volume; for earlier predecessors of these and other adornments worn by haniwa, see Bausch, this volume). The adorned haniwa atop mounded tombs demonstrate how such burial goods would have been actually worn. The significance of magatama and swords may be related in an early “creation” story found in Nihon shoki, where “Yasaka gems” (a specialized name for magatama) and a sword were exchanged between two kami 神 (deities), the female Amaterasu and her brother Susanoo, as a sign of trust. After the exchange, both objects generated other deities who became Japan’s legendary rulers (Aston 1972, Part 1, pp. 38–40). In other stories in Nihon shoki, beads are offered to kami and later to emperors, who were believed to have descended from kami (Aston 1972, Part I, pp. 47–48, 184–85, and 221). Magatama are seen only on female haniwa (OFCAH 2003, p. 70), a practice that may have become customary because of their legendary association with the female deity Amaterasu. As the possessor of both sword and magatama, Haniwa 1 had the tools to communicate with the unseen spirits in her role as the ritual specialist in charge of the ceremony. Although swords used as weapons were exclusively associated with males, the type of sword held by Haniwa 1 was generally made of gold and silver and used for ceremonies. Male sword-holding haniwa display scabbards because swords were part of their military attire, usually attached to their belts. Haniwa 1 does not have a scabbard, however, signifying that she is holding a ritual rather than a functional implement. According to passages from later texts, swords embodied primeval powers in early Japan. In legends from that time, we are told that a sword was wielded by two important deities, Susanoo and Amaterasu, in order to create other gods (Aston 1972, Part I, pp. 35). Ceremonial swords such as the one held by Haniwa 1 were used most notably in mourning
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 133 rituals. Nihon shoki, one of the earliest extant Japanese historical sources compiled in the early 8th century from oral traditions kept by generations of regional clan leaders, records the performance of martial dances (tatafushi no mai 楯節舞), using swords and shields during the mourning period for Emperor Tenmu (ca. 631–686) (Jitō 2.11.4 in Aston 1972, Part II, p. 388). Such dances were performed to drive away evil spirits and affirm harmony and may have also served as ritual reenactments of the emperor’s military conquests (Bialock 2007, pp. 98–99).12 Haniwa 2 is the shortest of the group at 62 cm. She wears a short tunic tied at her waist with a red sash, from which hangs a small cloth or leather pouch; an unknown oblong object can be seen attached to the other side of her sash. The figure’s neck, cheeks, and forehead are painted vermillion like Haniwa 1, and her hairstyle is also the same. The figure wears large round earrings and a double strand of beads—the upper comprised of small rounded beads and the lower of five magatama interspersed with round beads. Haniwa 2 appears to be dancing, with her left arm raised parallel to the ground and right hand resting on her right hip, causing her body to lean slightly to the right while her neck and head tilt to the left toward the raised arm. The dance pose suggests that the role of Haniwa 2 was to call forth the spirits via dance, perhaps parodying another ancient story in which a female dancer called forth Amaterasu from her rock cave (Aston 1972, Part 1, p. 44). According to early texts, dancing to recall a departed spirit and feasting to feed and honor it were important components of funerals in ancient Japan (Aston 1972, Part 1, pp. 66, 67, and 326). Haniwa 3 and 4 are approximately the same size— 76.4 and 74.5 centimeters respectively—and have the same hairstyles, wear similar short tunics, face paint, bead necklaces, and circular bracelets. The only notable difference is that Haniwa 4 wears circular earrings and Haniwa 3 does not. Both figures stand with their left arms raised, holding cups or small bowls, and their right hands stretched stiffly at their sides, suggesting that food or wine were part of the feasting at the ceremony and/or were made as offerings to the deceased. In sum, these four haniwa represent ritual specialists who played crucial roles in the funeral—interceding with the spirits, calling them forth with dance, and feasting them. All four haniwa are female, have the same distinctive hairstyle, wear flared tunics, red face paint, round earrings, and magatama-and-bead necklaces. Haniwa 1 is distinguished by a great sword and special patterned sash and herb pouch; Haniwa 2 also has a pouch and perhaps a bundle of herbs tied to her sash.
Discussion Because of its location and date, Tomb 4 may have been constructed to memorialize a powerful leader of a branch lineage of the Kenu 毛野, later Kamitsukeno 上毛野氏. “Kenu” originally referred to an area and later to
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134 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff a clan living there. We know little about the Kenu because they are seldom mentioned in historical documents, but an entry in Nihon shoki suggests they were an offshoot of the central Yamato (Wa) group who traced their lineage back to Toyokiiri hiko no mikoto 豊城入彦, who was made “ruler of the Eastern Land” by his father, Emperor Sūjin (r. 219–249) (Aston 1972, Part 1, p. 161; for adjusted dates, see Barnes 2014, p. 7). Other suggestions are that the Kenu were originally outsiders who arrived near Tokyo Bay and traveled up the Tone River to this area and were employed by the central court to conquer “outsider” groups in northern Japan (those not yet under central control) and were used in negotiations with Korean groups (Migishima et al. 2011, p. 47; Maezawa 1992, pp. 149–184). Although we cannot determine whether the Kenu were descendants of the central court who had been sent to the area of Gunma as administrators or a powerful regional family who were used by the center, there is little doubt that this group was of great importance to the development of the kings of the coalescent core to their west. It is possible that a descendent of the royal prince Toyokiiri, perhaps his fifth-generation grandson, Takahase 竹葉瀬, may be interred in Tenjinyama Kofun and that smaller clusters of tombs in the area, such as Tsukamawari Tomb 4, hold affiliated members of this important family. It is conceivable that the Kenu had ties to the Korean Peninsula given the intense interactions throughout the second half of the 5th century between the Yamato and Paekche rulers. The Paekche King Kaero sent his younger brother Konji to the Yamato court as a hostage from 461–477 CE, and Konji had two sons, Tongsŏng and Muryŏsong, born in Japan, although they later returned to Paekche to become kings with support from the Yamato rulers. Kaero sent Konji to Yamato to promote Paekche interests and to enlist the help of Japan in protecting Paekche against the advances of Koguryo from the north (Lee 2014, pp. 103–107; Barnes 2013, pp. 20– 36; Best 2006, p. 102 ff.; Aston 1972, Part 1, pp. 368–369). The result was that by the middle of the 6th century, a large number of officials and local authorities in Paekche were of Wa (Yamato) descent, and that there were likely an equal number of Paekche-descent officials living and working in Japan at this time. Furthermore, Park Cheun Soo has suggested that in the 6th century elite clans from northern Kyushu functioned as agents who engaged in an exchange network of prestige goods between Paekche, Tae (Great) Kaya, and the entire Japanese Archipelago. By 560, however, Silla was also courting Wa, intending to sever the strong ties between the two, and eventually to replace Paekche as the cultural supplier of goods from the continent. By the latter half of the 6th century Silla-produced goods became prevalent in Japan to the extent that Silla-style horse equipment was found in the Watanuki Kannonyama 綿貫観音山 Kofun in Gunma Prefecture, not far from Tsukamawari Tomb 4 (Park 2008, pp. 145–149). It is, therefore, likely that Tsukamawari Tomb 4 was built for a local chieftain related to or in service to the Yamato clan, who was heavily invested in the exchange
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 135 of military and cultural knowledge and goods on the southern part of the Korean Peninsula. In sum, local Japanese chieftains of the late Kofun period, to which Tsukamawari Tomb 4 dates, wore continental materials, clothing types, and ornaments; they also used horse tack from Chinese, Korean, and/or Steppe models to adorn their haniwa as an enhancement to power. They ritualized their tombs with sets of clay figures that represented knowledge of these outside practices and as a result probably acted together as symbols of worldly authority. They were symbolic enactments of solemn ritual performances that displayed superior knowledge, power, and communication with the East Asian world beyond the burial site. Such earthly power and knowledge were displayed through military and equine haniwa, while spiritual power was to be accessed through the ritual specialists who could affect succession and continued regional earthly control. They stood all together in perpetuity on mounds such as Tsukamawari as a reminder of the potency of sets, like actors in the real world.
Notes 1 Chinese funerary sculpture found outside of tombs were large-scale single images of notable worthies and animals that lined Spirit Roads (jingshen dao 精神道) leading to the entrances of tombs of the elite. They, too, represented important participants at funerals and, as they were most often over life-size and stood (and still stand) immobile and frozen in stone, brought solemnity and order to the gravesite. This placement determined their significance as honored and respected guides who led the participants and coffined body to the grave (Paludan 1991). 2 If we do not accept this sculpture as merely a passive representation of a past activity and agree, instead, to Wobst’s premise that people entered artifacts into contexts they wanted to change, or into ones that would change in undesirable directions if artifacts did not interfere (2000, p. 42), understanding what is portrayed in historical context should provide a gauge of its agency and powers of transformation and how that was transmitted. The human and animal haniwa, therefore, can be thought of as informed by their context (placement and setting), history, and social structure in order to accommodate the ruler’s ambition for prestige and power (Dobres & Robb 2000, p. 9). In other words, sets of haniwa statues could be expected to provoke a creative activity that was stimulated by political ambition (Wobst 2000). 3 Sets of small-scale Chinese sculptures also resided in the closed setting of the tomb itself and some of those “types” were borrowed by northeast Asian and Japanese sculptors. These forms, made of metal or clay, are similar to haniwa, in that they represented figures in funeral processions, entertainment such as feasting, and musical performances, and scenes from everyday life of the deceased. They are different, however, because their underlying purpose was to provide the deceased with a life and objects in the everafter. As far as we know, this concept did not take hold in Kofun-period Japan. 4 For a thorough discussion of the credibility of the historical evidence in early 8th- century texts, see Piggott 1997, pp. 287–290.
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136 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff 5 Herbal pouches were found in graves at Pazyryk, for instance, and many others in China, Siberia, and eastern Eurasia dating from the late first millennium BCE. They are often linked to shamanistic medicinal and ritual at those sites. 6 The type of haniwa found at Tomb 4 is similar to those uncovered at other tomb sites, and the number of “performative” haniwa vary, but it is approximately the same. Tomb 4, however, is one of a handful with fairly well-preserved haniwa found in situ (probably because it is in a rural area), making it more complete than many other tombs. 7 Interestingly, horse skulls have been excavated from wells and ditches, along with hand- modeled pottery, soapstone objects (perforated disks and beads), glass beads, and other ritual objects (Sekiyama 2011, p. 145). Along with their representation during the Kofun period, horses were clearly associated with important rituals (Sekiyama 2011, p. 143). 8 Kazuo Miyamoto has recently argued that the iron furnace of a metalsmith has been found at the Karakami site, Iki Island, Nagasaki Prefecture, dating from the Yayoi period in the first century BCE. At the same time, he argues, iron tools and iron weapons were produced in Western Japan with iron materials imported from the continent (Miyamoto 2017). 9 Japanese scholars use the terms “miko” 巫女 and “kannagi” 覡 interchangeably when talking about such haniwa. While both of the terms have Shinto connotations today, they originally referred to females who made ritual offerings to the spirits of food and performances of sung prayers, dance, and music. 10 As part of the attachments on this figure, a ritual leader, it is quite likely that the herbs were intended for ritualized medicinal use. 11 Gold crowns with jadeite comma-shaped beads have been excavated from the late 5th-century royal tombs of Kŭmgwanch’ong and Sŏbongch’ong in Silla, indicating that they were high-status objects on the Korean Peninsula (Park 2008, p. 132). For more on these crowns, see also Nelson, this volume. 12 Swords of various types were also ubiquitous grave goods in all parts of the Korean Peninsula at this time, and were found in the graves of male (but not female) rulers of Silla (Nelson 2003, p. 88).
References Aston, WG (trans) 1972, Nihongi: chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697, Charles E. Tuttle Company, Rutland, VT. Barnes, GL 2007, State formation in Japan: emergence of a 4th-century ruling elite, Routledge, London and New York. Barnes, GL 2013, State formation in Korea: emerging elites, Routledge, London and New York. Barnes, GL 2014, ‘A hypothesis for Early Kofun leadership,’ Japan Review, vol. 27, pp. 3–29. Barnes, GL 2015, The archaeology of East Asia: the rise of civilization in China, Korea and Japan, Oxbow Books, Oxford and Philadelphia. Best, JW 2006, A history of the early Korean kingdom of Paekche: together with an annotated translation of the Paekche Annals of the Samguk Sagi, Harvard University Asia Center, Distributed by Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.
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Ornamentation at Tsukamawari Tomb 4 137 Bialock, D 2007, Eccentric spaces, hidden histories: narrative, ritual, and royal authority from The Chronicles of Japan to The Tale of the Heike, Stanford University Press, Redwood City, CA. Boots, JL 1934, ‘Korean weapons and armor,’ Transactions of the Korea Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, vol. 23, Part 2, pp. 1–37. Colburn, CS & Heyn, MK (eds), 2008, Reading a dynamic canvas: adornment in the ancient Mediterranean world, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, Newcastle. Dierkens, A 1986, “De getuigenis van de archeologie,” in L Mills (ed), De heidenseMiddeleeuwen, Institute Historique Belge de Rome, Brussels and Rome. Dobres, M and Robb, JE 2000, Agency in archaeology, Routledge, London and New York. Fahlander, F & Oestigaard, T 2008, The materiality of death: bodies, burials, beliefs, British Archaeological Reports, Archaeopress, Oxford, UK. Fisher, G & Loren, DD 2003, ‘Embodying identity in archaeology: introduction,’ Cambridge Archaeological Journal, vol. 13, no. 2, pp. 225–230. Gunma Kenritsu Rekishi Hakubutsukan Tomo no Kai 1996, Zusetsu haniwa no hon 図説はにわの本, Gunma Kenritsu Rekishi Hakubutsukan Tomo no Kai, Takasaki. Kidder, JE 1987, ‘The Fujinoki Tomb and its grave goods,’ Monumenta Nipponica, vol. 42, no. 1, pp. 57–87. Kim, WY 1986, Art and archaeology of ancient Korea, The Taekwang Publishing Company, Seoul. Lee, S & Leidy, DP 2013, Silla: Korea’s golden kingdom, Yale University Press, New Haven. Maezawa, K 1992, ‘Toyokiiri hiko no mikoto keifu to Kamitsukeno chiiki: sono rekishiteki tokusei o megutte 豊城入彦命系譜と上毛野地域: その歴史的特性 をめぐって’ in Kokuritsu Rekishiminzoku Hakubutsukan Kenkyū Hōkoku 国立歴史民俗博物館研究報告, vol. 44, pp. 149–184. (MCJ) Maison de la culture du Japon (Paris) 2001, Haniwa: gardiens d’éternité des Ve et VIe siècles: Maison de la culture du Japon à Paris, 2 octobre-15 décembre 2001, Paris, Maison de la culture du Japan à Paris, Paris. Migishima, K; Wakasa, T; & Uchiyama, T (eds) 2011, Kofun jidai Kenu(o) no jitsuzō 古墳時代毛野の実像, Kikan kōkogaku, bessatsu, vol. 17, Yūzankaku, Tokyo. Miyamoto, K 2017, ‘Decarbonized technique of cast[ing] iron to make wrought iron product[s]at [the] Yayoi period in Northern Kyushu,’ paper delivered at the BUMA Conference, Busan, Korea, October 18, 2017. Mizoguchi, K 2013, The archaeology of Japan: from the earliest rice farming villages to the rise of state, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Mizuno, M 1977, ‘Haniwa geinō ron 埴輪芸能論,’ Kodai no Nihon, vol. 2, Kadokawa Shoten, Tokyo. Nakayama, K, English Translation of the Wei Zhi, www2.u-netsurf.ne.jp/~kojin/e- wajinden.html, accessed 80/16 2016. Nelson, SM 2008. ‘Horses and gender in Korea: the legacy of the Steppe on the edge of Asia” in KM Linduff & KS Rubinson (eds), Are all warriors male? gender roles on the ancient Eurasian Steppe, pp. 111–130. Rowman & Littlefield, Alta Mira Press, Lanham, MD. Nelson, SM 2003, ‘The queens of Silla: power and connections to the spirit world,” in SM Nelson (ed), Ancient queens, pp. 77–92. Altamira Press, Walnut Creek, CA, Lanham, New York, and Oxford.
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138 Karen M. Gerhart and Katheryn M. Linduff Nelson, SM 1993, The archaeology of Korea, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. OFCAH Osaka Furitsu Chikatsu Asuka Hakubutsukan (eds) 2003, Yomi no Akusesarii 黄泉のアクセサリー, Osaka Furitsu Chikatsu Asuka Hakubutsukan zuroku 大阪府立近つ飛鳥博物館図録, vol. 30, Osaka Furitsu Chikatsu Asuka Hakubutsukan, Osaka. OFCAH Osaka Furitsu Chikatsu Asuka Hakubutsukan 2005, Ōken to girei: haniwa gunzō no sekai 王権と儀礼: 埴輪群像の世界, Osaka Furitsu Chikatsu Asuka Hakubutsukan zuroku大阪府立近つ飛鳥博物館図録, vol. 39, Osaka Furitsu Chikatsu Asuka Hakubutsukan, Osaka. Ōta-shi Kyōiku Iinkai 2003, Tsukamawari Kofungun, 塚廻り古墳群, Ōta-shi Kyōiku Iinkai, Gunma. Paludan, A 1991, The Chinese spirit road, Yale University Press, New Haven. Park, CS 2008, ‘Kaya and Silla in archaeological perspective,’ in ME Byington (ed), Early Korea: reconsidering early Korean history through archaeology, Early Korea Project, Korea Institute, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA. Pearson, R, with Doi, T; Harada, M; Inokuma, K; Kawagoe, S; Kawahara, S; Kobayashi, T; Morimitsu, T; Okamura, M; Sahara, K; Shiraishi, T; Tanabe, I; Tanaka, M; Tateno, K; & Tsude, H 1992, Ancient Japan, Smithsonian Institution, Arthur Sackler Gallery, Washington DC, and Government of Japan, Agency for Cultural Affairs, Tokyo. Piggot, JR 1997, The emergence of Japanese kingship, Stanford University Press, Redwood City, CA. Rawski, ES 2015, Early modern China and northeast Asia: cross-border perspectives, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Sekiyama, H 2011, ‘Changes in perception of cattle and horses in ancient Japanese society,” in N Matsumoto, H Bessho & M Tomii (eds), Coexistence and cultural transmission in East Asia, pp. 141–161. Routledge Press, New York. Sørensen, MS 1997, ‘Reading dress: The construction of social categories of identities in Bronze Age Europe,’ Journal of European Archaeology, vol. 5, no. 1, pp. 93–114. Strathern, M 1988, The gender of the gift, University of California Press, Berkeley. Wakasa, T 2009, Haniwa no sekai: kodai shakai kara no messeji 埴輪の世界:古代社会からのメッセージ, Tokyo Bijutsu, Tokyo. Watt, J 2004, China: dawn of a golden age: 200–750 AD, Yale University Press, New Haven. Wobst, HM 2000, “Agency in (spite of) material culture,” in M Dobres & JE Robb (ed), Agency in archaeology, pp. 40–50. Routledge Press, London and New York. Wu, H 1995, Monumentality in early Chinese art and architecture, Stanford University Press, Redwood City, CA.
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Part III
Assemblage
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8 Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite Elizabeth Childs-Johnson
Due to the dominance, number, and concentration of jades to the exclusion of any other elite work of art from excavated Late Neolithic burials in China (ca. 3500–2000 BCE), I have coined the term “Jade Age” to describe this period (Childs-Johnson 2009; 2001; 1988). The abundant jades per burial make it possible to reconstruct the appearance of a ruler or high-ranking social member in terms of jade adornment. Three major leading and overlapping cultures defining the Jade Age comprise the Hongshan (ca. 4700– 2900 BCE), followed by the Liangzhu (ca. 3300–2300/2100 BCE), and finally by the Longshan (ca. 3000–1900 BCE). In each of these cultures, elite adornments, including headgear, clothing, knee decor, and body ornaments, as well as insignia style weapons, were made from nephrite, the predominant material symbol of wealth and power in pre-Bronze Age China. The analysis here focuses on Liangzhu elite jade adornments.1
Background and cultural setting The Liangzhu culture is divided into three developmental stages (Periods 1–3): an initial (3300–2800 BCE), a middle (2800–2600), and a final one (2600–2100 BCE) (Shuo 2000). Settlements were concentrated north, east, and south of Taihu 太湖 (Lake Tai) in Jiangsu and Zhejiang provinces and Shanghai municipality, from northern Changzhou city 常州市 to eastern Shanghai and southern Hangzhou (see map Figure 8.1). Other, more remote sites stretched far north beyond the banks of the Yangzi into northern Jiangsu and west of Taihu into Anhui province. The height and formulation of what may be classified as a classic or mature stage of the Liangzhu culture takes place during Periods 2–3, ca. 2800–2100 BCE; these periods are the focus of my analysis of Liangzhu adornment. Since the wealthiest finds are concentrated in the richest of burials, located primarily within the regional capital of Mojiaoshan 莫角山 in the Yuhang District 餘杭區 of Zhejiang and within smaller regional centers, including Fuquanshan 福泉山 in Shanghai and Sidun 寺墩 in Jiangsu, material goods, primarily jades, from burials at cemetery sites will be my data for analysis.
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Figure 8.1 Major sites of the Liangzhu culture. After Childs-Johnson 2009, p. 313, Figure 9.
Lively debate has recently focused on labeling the Liangzhu culture with varying anthropological terms, including regional civilization, chiefdom, theocracy, kingdom, city-state, or simply one of several proto-civilizations (see for example Childs-Johnson 2009, pp. 291–295; Zhang 1999, pp. 524– 525; Chang 1986, pp. 234–252). All of these are close and similar in concept
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 143 in identifying Liangzhu as a proto-historic culture, with the provision that few samples of writing have appeared amidst Liangzhu excavated remains (Liu 2019). Liangzhu culture was a regional proto-civilization or city-state with a nested hierarchical patriarchy that was galactic and centrifugal in possessing advanced and sophisticated traits. The Liangzhu culture boasts state-of-the-art irrigation and hydraulic engineering systems (Mojiaoshan) (Liu et al 2017), extensive walled compounds with moats (for example Mojiaoshan), social stratification and settlement hierarchy, pubescent writing (use of emblems), advanced agriculture with aquaculture and irrigation plus rice-paddy cultivation, a theocracy, city and administrative centers, advanced crafts and arts, weaponry, human sacrifice, and astronomical observatories (see for example Yaoshan and Huiguanshan in Liu 2019). The Liangzhu culture had a major impact outside its area of geographical concentration. Traditional “Chinese culture” is indebted to Liangzhu not only for its singular fondness for jade art and its cosmological connections, but for foundational beliefs in the greater world of nature and its spirit powers (Childs-Johnson 2002).
The religio-administrative center of the Liangzhu culture at Mojiaoshan, Yuhang, Zhejiang As recently documented by excavations directed by Liu Bin, the Liangzhu people built a major administrative and religious center at Mojiaoshan, Yuhang District, Zhejiang. Although from the middle through the late Liangzhu eras (ca. 2800–2100 BCE) a gradual expansion of rich settlements takes place towards the east at Fuquanshan in Shanghai and at Sidun and Zhaolingshan 趙陵山 further north in Jiangsu, Mojiaoshan remained a model settlement and the center of Liangzhu culture throughout this period. Mojiaoshan is exceptional in many ways, particularly in its advanced engineering of an extremely sophisticated and extensive irrigation and dam control system, and in an infrastructure and layout of a city center complete with residential, administrative, and religious parts (Liu 2019). Mojiaoshan was a “water city,” surrounded by a city wall covering an area of three million square meters, which, as frequently pointed out, was 200,000 square meters larger than the Forbidden City in Beijing. The citadel extended 1910 meters north to south and 1770 meters east to west. The entire settlement, including the suburbs, measured six square kilometers. City walls were approximately four to six meters in width and rested on a foundation of stones crowned by rammed earth, remaining today at four meters in height. A canal, which was probably a moat, lay outside three- quarters of the wall and inside the city, where an enormous number of man- made transportation canals as well as navigable streams could be found. The Mojiaoshan city center, which excavators call Liangzhu Ancient City, sits in a wetland environment with a river network and eastern plain between the Daxiong 大雄 and Dazhe 大遮 Mountains of the Tianmu Mountain
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144 Elizabeth Childs-Johnson Range 天目山. The site was purposely chosen to nestle against two hills, in the northwest and southwest, respectively. Six gates within the city wall have been found so far, two in the north wall, two in the east, and two in the south. All of the waterway entrances linked to the water network both inside and outside the city. Inside the city, sitting on high ground, is a large rectangular-shaped rammed-earth foundation (suspected to have been the palace or religious/administrative center) with additional platforms on top of the latter. The now well-known raised earthen platform cemetery of Fanshan 反山, with burials containing exquisite jades, lies to the northwest of the rammed-earth architectural foundations and within the city wall (Liu 2019; Zhejiang sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo 2005). The Mojiaoshan site, and the Liangzhu culture as a whole, were governed by a theocratic patriarchal clan-type elite, who were buried in tuzhu jinzita 土築金字塔 (earth-constructed pyramids) (Figure 8.2). An average of ten to twenty intrusive elite burials were usually aligned in rows at the edges of these mounds. The pyramidal altars-cum-burials were used for both ritual and elite burials, and the elite burials were packed with jades. The jades comprised standardized sets of ritual utensils with a uniform program of religious imagery. Shared Liangzhu religious beliefs are indicated not only by these mounds and uniform ritual utensils, but also by consistent imagery and an iconographic program. The jade cong 琮 (prismatic tubes) and bi 璧 (perforated disks) from these burials are well known Liangzhu ritual implements and have been frequently analyzed (for example, see Childs- Johnson 2006; Lu 1997; Hayashi 1990; Chang 1986; Mou 1989; 1979). Of significance is the fact that the Liangzhu jade ritual implements and jade articles of bodily adornment share a standardized iconography, and, thus in this sense, reflect a common belief system (see below).
Stratified elite burials from pyramidal earthen altar cemeteries I have extensively analyzed Liangzhu burial data and social differentiation in earlier research (see Childs-Johnson 2009, pp. 310–353). Liangzhu burials fall essentially into four levels, the top three of which belong to rulers and elite of military and related ranks (Childs-Johnson 2009, Table 4; pp. 328– 337). The fourth and bottom tier belongs to lower-class members and is usually distinguished by a lack of jades and by a burial located in a commoner’s cemetery or residential context outside the altar mounds. The four tiers of Liangzhu burials include Tier 1, comprising Mojiaoshan, Fanshan, and Yaoshan; Tier 2, comprising Sidun and Fuquanshan; Tier 3, comprising Zhaolingshan and Zhanglingshan 张岭山; and Tier 4, associated with finds at Maqiao 马桥, Longnan 龙南, Miaoqian 妙钱, and Pingqiudun 平丘墩, all non-mound burials (see review in Childs-Johnson 2009, pp. 310–338). Numerous jades fill the burials of these elite, reaching in number to as many as 600 (including beads) in Tier 1 burials to less than 100 jades (including beads) in burials belonging to Tier 3 (see Childs-Johnson 2008,
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Figure 8.2 (Top) Ground plan and overview reconstruction of the platform mound cemetery at Zhaolingshan, Kunshan, Jiangsu. (Bottom) Ground plan and view of the platform mound cemetery at Fuquanshan, Shanghai City, Jiangsu. After Childs-Johnson 2009, p. 315, Figures 10D and 10E.
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146 Elizabeth Childs-Johnson pp. 327–338, Table 4). Certain gender differences appear amidst jade sets, as may be observed in Tier 1 (see below). Jades fall into three primary typological categories, including weaponry (yue 钺), ritual implements (cong, bi), and ornaments. The fact that all three tiers of Liangzhu clan elders and leaders share types of jades corroborates that these centers had common cultural beliefs and practices and a hierarchy and social system that is primarily galactic (Lu 1997).
Standardized imagery Not only do jades in elite platform burials conform to shared types, but the goods also show the adaptation of a standardized program of imagery. The most prominent and common image decorating ritual implements, weaponry, and body ornaments has been variously labeled a godhead, a spirit person (shenren 神人), a humanized deity, or semi-human spirit power (see images represented in Figure 8.3) (see for example Childs-Johnson 2016; 1998; James 1991; Mou 1989). The lattermost terms—spirit person, anthropomorphized deity, or simply semi-human spirit power—are similar in import, yet semi- human spirit power is preferred and followed here. All images are flat and primarily frontal or in profile and thus two-dimensional. The celebrated so- called “Royal Cong” from Fanshan Tomb 12 (Figure 8.3a, d) is the most revealing in defining the image of the semi-human spirit power. A human with bracket-shaped feathered headdress and displayed arms ending in fingers literally rides an abstract animal-like spirit with large ovoid-shaped eyes and displayed body with limbs ending in claws. This superimposition of man on animal is an outright symbol of spirit power. There is no question that this is an intentional zoomorphic icon, man with animal spirit power. An abstract pair of wings projects from the human’s upper arm. Clothing is covered with abstract cosmic cloud scrolls, the same ones filling the eyes and limbs of the animal. Animalistic attributes comprise large circular eye sockets with pupils—eerily recalling what is close to the interpretation of the eye of the so-called “pig-dragon” on Hongshan jade amulets (Childs- Johnson 2009, pp. 306–310; Guo 1997). The “animal eye” is also identical to that of the cosmic bird symbol (see below). A nasal ridge rises above a jaw and mouth with paired upward and downward turning fangs. Limbs, exaggeratedly long, are similar to those of the human with a pair of small feather extensions but are smaller and contracted and end in claws, suggesting a feline or bird of prey. A smaller and subordinate pair of flanking profile birds with their telltale cosmic eye completes the emblematic icon of spirit power (Figure 8.3g). This imagery may be radically simplified or abstracted in a variety of ways (compare images in Figure 8.3), and these variations not only decorate cong and bi but also yue ax insignia and ornaments adorning an elite’s body. A second part of the imagery is the spirit or cosmic bird with a body usually formed out of a large-scale frontal eye, the same eye type of the
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 147
Figure 8.3 Standardized imagery of Liangzhu jades. Adapted from Childs-Johnson 2009, p. 349, Figure 16.
semi-human deity, indicating that this “cosmic eye” is a significant power attribute of both bird and semi-human animal spirit. The third common image is the ubiquitous cloud-scroll, filling eye sockets and body parts. As I have previously argued, these are all variations on imagery relating to cosmic and metamorphic power that would continue to be popular long into the modern era (Childs-Johnson 2008; 2002).
Jade symbolism and Liangzhu period belief We may speak of the above images as deities and of their manifestations as metamorphic powers, in much the same way we may speak of Olmec (and later Mayan) period gods and deities in Mesoamerica (primarily Guatemala and Mexico). We know that for both early cultures jade was esteemed for its beauty and preciosity, but, above all, and most importantly, “as a rarified embodiment of life essence … and physical manifestation of the breath spirit” (Taube 2005, p. 23, see also pp. 30– 32). Although the latter words belong to a well-known Mesoamerican
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148 Elizabeth Childs-Johnson anthropologist, they apply equally well to the Liangzhu culture which was a major stimulant to mainstream Chinese belief (Childs-Johnson 2002; Hayashi 1997, pp. 170–231). The obvious appreciation of jade as both beautiful and precious is underscored by the sheer predominance of this material used to adorn and define Liangzhu elite. The demonstration that Liangzhu jade served as an embodiment of life essence and a physical manifestation of the breath spirit is based primarily on visual data. Whether we qualify this life essence and breath spirit as what we know as qi 氣 in later Warring States (475–221 BCE) and Han period (206 BCE220 CE) texts and popularized in Daoist and shamanic literature (see, e.g., “Li Sao 離騷 Encountering Sorrow)” in the Chuci 楚辞 (Songs of Chu), the notion is clearly substantiated by the presence of cosmological representations of forces of moonlight and sunlight—energy powers—in the symbol of the whirling eyes of spirit birds (Figure 8.4a), and the main deity of the Liangzhu era (Figure 8.3a-g) (Childs-Johnson & Major,
Figure 8.4 Cosmological symbols in pre-Liangzhu Hemudu, Lingjiatan, Songze, and Liangzhu period art, 3500–2000 BCE: (a) two bone carvings with bird symbols of sunlight and moonlight, Hemudu (Adapted from Zhejiang 2003, p. 116, Figure 70; p. 285, Figure 194), (b) two bone atlatls in the shape of bird deities with a central cosmological symbol with directional rays of the universe, Hemudu, ca. 3500 BCE (Adapted from Lin 1998), (c) interior of a ceramic dou stem bowl with quadripartite winged bird deity as cosmological symbol of the universe, Hemudu, ca. 3500 BCE (Adapted from Zhejiang 2003, p. 343, Figure 233:7), (d) jade plaque with cosmological symbol with axial rays and jade turtle carapace and plastron from Lingjiatan, Anhui (Adapted from Anhui 2006, p. 97, Figure 2 and p. 85, Figure 2). Figure by Scott Mann.
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 149 forthcoming). The cosmological “eye” defining the eye sockets of the Liangzhu deity is the same eye filling the body of the Liangzhu cosmological bird spirit, indicating that these two are interchangeable cosmological spirit forces. The same eye animates pre- Liangzhu, Hemudu 河姆渡 (5500– 3300 BCE), and Songze 崧泽 period (ca. 3800–3300 BCE) ceramics of wild animals, such as the boar and tiger, in addition to a semi-human type mask (see, e.g., Lin 2019, p. 134, Figure 5–1:4–5; p. 373, Figure 9–1; Zhejiang sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo 2003, p. 47, Figure 29; 33, and 34, p, 67, Figure 41:10 and 12; p. 123, Figure 75:4; p. 127, Figure 78:7), indicating that cosmological imagery of Liangzhu was formulated much earlier than 3500 BCE, and that the concept of life-force belongs to spirits of the wild and unknown. Spirit birds and the semi-human deities symbolizing cosmological power are typically covered with cloud scrolls, the vapor of life, and the life-giving source of water and rain, which in turn may be directly linked with fertility. Jade’s connection with spirit power is substantiated by the use of jade to plug the mouth of the deceased (Fang 2019) as well as to cover the corpse of the deceased in pre-Liangzhu, Liangzhu, Longshan, and most later Bronze Age and Imperial period contexts (Childs-Johnson & Major, forthcoming). Again, as clarified by Taube and others, in post-Mayan Mesoamerican literature (Taube 2005) and by others in later Han and post-Han Chinese literature (Childs-Johnson 2002), jade was believed to possess a mystical spiritual essence. By placing jade in the mouth of a corpse, the stone captured the breath spirit of the deceased, in much the same way it was believed to do in Olmec and Mayan cultures (Taube 2005, p. 31). During the poet Qu Yuan’s (ca. 340– 287 BCE) day, jade and yugao 玉膏 (“jade grease”) were the foods of the gods, yet were also the spirit essence of a Confucian learned aristocrat (junzi 君子) or shaman in spirit flight (Sukhu 2012; Childs-Johnson 2002, pp. 15–16). The small-scale Liangzhu jade of a squatting “fetal” human escorted in flight by an attached overhead bird (Figure 8.5j) is an image repeated elsewhere in metamorphic visual programs of this period and throughout the Shang and Zhou (Childs-Johnson & Major, forthcoming; Childs-Johnson 2002). This is a concrete image of spirit flight perpetuated in varying styles in Jade and Bronze Age China. As very dense silicates, both jadeite (Olmec) and nephrite (Liangzhu) strongly absorb solar heat. As Taube and Ishihara-Brito (2012) have noted, “Left in tropical sun, a polished piece is both burning to the touch and fully capable of producing vapor if moistened.” It is thus no surprise that a balance of one’s qi, life breath, is based medically on exhaling and inhaling exercises in later Daoist practice, and the same property is believed to characterize jade in both Eastern and Western contexts in prehistoric and protohistoric periods. The translucent white or pale translucent green of the purest of nephrite stones in turn easily suggests association with fertility and growth, rain, and vapor. One other essential tenet of Liangzhu belief, also comparable to that of Olmec and Mayan Mesoamerican, is that jade served as a symbol of the
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Figure 8.5 Adornment types of jades from Liangzhu tombs: (a) huang, (b) D-shapes, (c) knee or shoe ornaments, (d) comb crowns, (e) three-prong head ornament, (f) bracelets and armlets, (g) necklaces and beads, (h) awl-shaped stick- pins and pendants, (i) buckles, (j) pendants, (k) yue axes from Yaoshan Tomb 7 and Fanshan Tomb 12, (l) bi disk with bird symbols, Freer Gallery of Art, and related bird symbols on other bi, (m) cong prismatic tubes, Liangzhu Tomb 77. Figure prepared by Scott Mann and adapted from Childs-Johnson 2008, pp. 338–349, 343, Figure 15.
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 151 ruler and his centrality in a world dominated axially by four directions. Jade was inextricably related to a ruler’s power, image, and authority. Axial orientation is illustrated by Liangzhu jades, ceramics, and architectural designs. All burials of Liangzhu date were axially oriented to the north and the pyramidal man-made altars were similarly oriented (Figure 8.2). The ritual utensils, circular jade bi disk, and cong prismatic tube are obvious shapes that invoke the ancient belief in a square-shaped earth and circular sky (Figure 8.5l, M). These concepts are endemic to most early Sinitic and Mesoamerican cultures (Taube 2005). Both cong and bi were decorated with imagery, either a profile bird perched on a pyramid shaped altar decorated with an interior design of an axial bird disk, in the case of the bi disk (Figure 8.5l), or with repeated prophylactic images of a deity mounted on a zoomorph with “cosmic eyes,” filled with clouds and flanked by spirit birds on all faces, in the case of the square cong (Figure 8.5m). In addition, a frequent symbol decorating Liangzhu ceramics is a mass of calligraphically drifting lyrical spirit birds or a perforated disk configuration surrounded by four directional and axial extensions of bird parts, usually wings. The latter image is one of the more common tropes for representing cosmological directionality and centrality, as represented incised on jade bi (Figure 8.5l) and incised on the interior of a Hemudu-dated black dou stemmed bowl (Figure 8.4d). This same disk with a pair of birds also appears on Hemudu and Songze ceramics and serves as sculptural precedents for later Liangzhu imagery (Fang 2019, forthcoming). For example, Hemudu period atlatls— the powerful weapon used to throw a dart or spear for hunting (predating the bow and arrow)—are decorated with the same winged deity, which in one case flanks a central spoked wheel symbolizing directionality of the cosmos (Figure 8.4c). The Songze culture in the Lake Tai area near Shanghai, which predated the Liangzhu, similarly produced artifacts with clear-cut images of cosmological and directional symbolism. Examples include a slightly curved rectangular jade plaque, carved with a cosmological design, found lying below the detachable lower carapace and upper plastron shells of a jade turtle in a tomb from Lingjiatan, Anhui (Figure 8.4d) (Anhui 2006). The design forms a diagram of axially extending arrow-shaped points numbering four on the outside and eight inside, identifying north, south, east, and west and their midpoints, which emanate from a circular sky symbol. This composite plaque with turtle shells is a stellar artistic example documenting belief in what later constituted a cosmograph (see, e.g., Yang 2006, pp. 95–102), in southeastern coastal cultures succeeded by Liangzhu. The shape of the jade turtle with its detachable upper carapace and lower plastron is another well- known symbol of divination as it is a symbol of the shape of the universe. As will be discussed below, the adornment of the Liangzhu chief was bedecked with precisely these cosmological symbols that endowed his rulership and centralized power.
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Elite jade adornments Head ornaments Ornaments decorating the head and body of the ruling elite (mostly Tier 1) comprised primarily jades, although feathers were almost certainly also used to adorn the head. Jade decorative crowns attached to the teeth of a lacquer-painted wood or an ivory comb are typically found one per grave in Tier 1–3 burials (Figure 8.4d). The hair was also adorned with one three-pronged jade fitting, both sides of which could be engraved with imagery, but how these pronged fittings were attached remains unclear (Figure 8.5e). One to three of the prongs were perforated longitudinally, indicating that something long and slender was intended for insertion. Based on the depiction on the trapezoidal feathered headdress worn by the semi-human of the semi-human-cum-animal icon on other Liangzhu jades, the most likely objects for insertion were peacock feathers (Figure 8.3a–d). Peacock feathers are identified by their ocelli, or the eyespots on their tail feathers. Peafowl appear commonly as the spirit bird in Liangzhu period art and the art of its preceding cultures, Hemudu, Majiabang 馬家浜 (5000– 3350 BCE), and Songze and evolve as the model for the spirit messenger in Shang and later Zhou art (Childs-Johnson 1989). Possibly, additional feathers of birds of prey were also used. In any case, one may imagine the feathers to be profuse and fanning out in the fashion of the semi-human part of the iconic spirit image. Other ornaments include sets of four or eight D-shaped jades, arranged most likely in axial positions around a stiffened band (not extant) encircling the head (Figure 8.5b). The front face of these D-shaped ornaments was carved with imagery of the complete metamorphic icon (semi-human with animal) or its abbreviated form. The back was flat and distinguished by small-scale perforations at the bottom and sometimes a pair of nostril- shaped holes at the back top. The latter would have allowed the jade ornaments to be stitched onto a wide headband and secured by threads or cords in an upright position. A large number of jade stickpins were in turn used to secure and decorate the hair (Figure 8.5h). These stickpins often came in sets of five to ten and took the shape of a long, pointed awl tool (The same stickpin could be perforated at the top for suspension on a necklace or pectoral). All of these head ornaments could be elaborately decorated with the three iconic motifs identified above —the semi-human-cum-animal spirit power, the spirit bird, and the fill of cloud scrolls. Necklaces and other bodily adornments The human body was also adorned with a rich selection of necklaces containing numerous strings of plain and decorated beads in various forms
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 153 and shapes (Figure 8.4g). Beads were tubular, drum-shaped, globular, bow- shaped, and cong-shaped. Holes were typically drilled from both sides so that they met in the center, creating small cone-shaped holes. Some were elaborately decorated. As revealed in Figures 8.4g and h, beads and awls were worked with miniscule representational images of the semi-human animal spirit or abstract versions of the same images. Many types of pendants also hung from necklaces, including broad huang 璜,or arch-shaped pendants with corner perforations for suspension (Figure 8.4a). Images decorating these huang often were positioned upside down to facilitate the view of the deceased or the individual while alive. These jade huang types are well represented in earlier Songze and Lingjiatan 凌家滩 (ca. 3600–3300 BCE) burials and continued to be popular throughout Bronze Age and later dynastic periods. Small-scale animals, such as birds of prey, fish, tortoises, frogs, cicadas, and even small-scale bird-persons posed in a fetal position were also suspended as ornaments (Figure 8.4j). Archaeologists have yet to find surviving cords or strings for these beads. Jade buckles, one of which was discovered in the area of the corpse’s waist at Fanshan Tomb 7 (Figure 8.4i), served to bind the person’s clothing as part of a belt. Although clothing has not survived, silk and hemp material have been recovered from other burial contexts, serving, for example, as mats for the corpse. The buckle with hook and perforated hole for attachment to a belt is the precedent for elaborately decorated Eastern Zhou (770–255 BCE) through the Tang period (618–907 CE) jade and inlaid bronze hooks and buckles (for examples see Hansford 1968, plates 30–33, 42, 50A). Layers of bracelets decorated the upper part of arms and wrists (Figures 8.4f, 8.5). Bracelets and armlets often varied in height reaching as tall as six inches and were worked either vertically with straight edges or were worked so their edges were rounded. One of these bracelet types carries an image that archaeologists have identified as an image of the dragon, but this is a rare example and is not clearly representative of dragon imagery in the Liangzhu culture (see the bracelet from Tomb 1:30 at Yaoshan in Zhejiang sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo 2003, Figure 6, p. 28). The dragon appears rather to be a northern invention, belonging to the Hongshan culture and later indebted cultures, including Erlitou (2100/1900–1500 BCE) and historic Shang (1700/1600–1046 BCE) (Childs-Johnson 2017). In addition, a pair of jade plaques appears to have decorated the upper part of the knee or else possibly the wearer’s boots (Figure 8.4c). Their shape forms a distinctive half-moon with perforations and imagery raised in bas-relief. The latter plaques usually appear as a pair that was sewn onto material, leggings perhaps, due to the common set of two to three ox-nostril shaped apertures on their backs, designed for attachment. Known examples are typically finely decorated with the standard Liangzhu icon of spirit power, the semi-human riding the animal spirit (see for example Figure 8.3c). All pieces of jade adorning an elite member of Liangzhu society could be decorated
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154 Elizabeth Childs-Johnson with the standardized images of spirit power, including flanking birds and densely packed cloud scrolls. Yue axes In addition to the ornaments outlined above, Liangzhu elite males were frequently provided with accompanying jade ax heads mounted on long, wooden lacquered staffs inlaid with jade and sometimes turquoise and crowned by a jade decorated pommel and chape (Figure 8.4k). Frequently, toggles of small-scale jades in the form of miniature cong beads hung at the top and bottom of these axes. As mentioned, usually one jade yue was buried with clan patriarchs at Yaoshan and Fanshan (Figure 8.4k). Yet, in contrast, as the excavators point out, numbers of jade yue (three to four from the richest burials) are more common in Fuquanshan burials (Tier 2) than they are at Yaoshan and Fanshan burials (Tier 1), where one jade yue per burial is the norm (see Childs-Johnson 2009, p. 338). These insignia yue lay immediately adjacent to the body and thus may be considered part of the figure’s adornment. The most exquisite example is from M12 at Fanshan (Figure 8.4k, left). It probably belonged to one of the highest-ranking clan patriarchs who ruled at the city center of Mojiaoshan. Both sides of the jade blade were decorated with metamorphic semi-human-cum-animal and cosmic birds. This is the only ax head yet discovered that is decorated with the familiar set of cosmologically empowered icons. Most yue were undecorated, yet highly burnished, long or short outwardly bowed trapezoid pieces of jade. Cong and bi Ritual cong and bi do not fall into the category of an individual’s adornment, although they often stand out in burials serving as funeral shrouds covering the corpse, as expressed by the in situ arrangement of cong and bi surrounding and crowning the male corpse of Tomb 3 at Sidun in Wujin 武进, Jiangsu (Huang 2000, p. 25, Figure 5) and the male corpse of Tomb 23 at Fanshan, Zhejiang (Zhejiang sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo 2005, p. 300, Figure 243). Jades adorning a Liangzhu corpse in burial, as discussed thus far, appear to typify a living individual as well as one deceased in the afterworld. It is unclear, nonetheless, from archaeological data whether jade cong and bi were used in actual ritual, despite the fact the two jade types were well established and decorated with metamorphic imagery by Liangzhu Period 2. Lu Jianfang has suggested that cong may identify clan and lineage rank (Childs-Johnson 2009, pp. 339, 350–351; Lu 1997). Cong are typically decorated with alternating images of the standardized semi-human and animal spirit in separate registers. Sometimes these registers contain only the semi-human image depicted in prismatic four corner cartouches running in band formation up and down the exterior of the cong. Bi perforated
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 155 circular disks, on the other hand were strictly decorated with bird imagery, sometimes in association with the symbol of a pyramidal altar with sun and moon symbols (Childs-Johnson 2009, pp. 350–351), but typically not with the semi-human-cum-animal spirit symbol. Based on the latter texts, the two objects had different, but interrelated, functions with the square and circle symbolizing the earth and the empyrean. How these two implements were used in actual ritual is still a question even though their popularity as representational forms continued. That jade cong and bi may have functioned as a death shroud in Liangzhu elite burials is suggested by other prehistoric and historic materials that show jade was a symbol of rebirth and everlasting life. The recent excavation of a jade shroud covering the corpse of an earlier Lingjiatan burial in Anhui is clear-cut documentation of this use.2 The appearance of elaborate Western Zhou (1046–771 BCE) jade necklaces and face masks also continue the Lingjiatan and Liangzhu practice of packing jades around a supine corpse. Interestingly, there appears to be a gap during the Erlitou and Shang periods for the use of jade coverings for the corpse, but this is most likely due to the lack of discovery of royal and elite Erlitou and Shang burials. However the Late Shang burial of Fu Zi, the queen and consort of King Wu Ding, had 755 jade adornments (almost 40 percent of her grave goods) placed near her corpse and covering her body in her inner coffin (IA, CASS 1980, pp. 12, 116–200). The assemblage of jades ranged from small- scale suspendable sculptures (pigeons, bird persons, falcons, fish, bisexual humans, horses, tigers, etc.) to beads of various shapes. The fact that these jades also included earlier Hongshan, Lingjiatan, Liangzhu, Shijiahe 石家河, Longshan, and possibly Shang period Jinsha 金沙 types from Sichuan indicates her instincts for collecting beautiful and magically empowered jades (Childs-Johnson 1983). Since all lay in connection with her corpse, they may be considered a form of jade shroud, continuing the Liangzhu practice that would be exploited and infused with a new energy during the Western Zhou and later periods.
Status and rank The above is an overview of the typical types of jades that were used to adorn Liangzhu elites in life and death and distinguished the rank of individuals buried in man-made mound altars (burials in Tiers 1 and 2). For example, the four or eight D- shaped jade ornaments arranged in axial positions around a stiffened band encircling the head (see an example in Figure 8.5b), and the three-prong combs, which would have been inserted into the hair (Figure 8.5d), appear primarily in Tier 1 burials at Yaoshan and Fanshan and do not commonly appear in Tier 2 or 3 burials.3 One or two exceptions include one comb ornament found in Tier 2 graves 60 and 74 at Fuquanshan and one in Tier 3 grave 199 at Caoxieshan 草鞋山 (Childs- Johnson 2009, pp. 335, 337). Jade yue, on the other hand, are buried with
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156 Elizabeth Childs-Johnson a broader spectrum of the population and are found in all Tier 1–3 burials and in this respect are a unifying marker among the different levels of male elites on the Liangzhu social ladder (Lu 1997). Another significant difference amidst Tier 1–3 burials is reflected in numbers of jade cong and jade bi per burial (see Childs-Johnson 2009, p. 339).3
Gender differentiation Burials in which the gender of the deceased is known at Yaoshan and Fanshan also suggest that articles of jade adornment were used to distinguish males and females. These include female burials discovered in a row separate from the row of male burials at Yaoshan and some male burials at Fanshan. However, no female burials have been identified at Fanshan, and no females and very few males have been identified in Tiers 2 and 3 burials. Based on excavated burials from Yaoshan and Fanshan only, three-prong jades with ornaments holding inserted peafowl feathers, headdresses made of D-shaped jades sewn onto a band-shaped crown, and jade yue were all male-specific articles of adornment. Nonetheless, all other jade accouterments, including comb attachments, huang, bracelets, necklaces, pendants, posts and caps, awl- shaped stick-pins, perforated disks, and various other small-scale jades were found in both male and female burials. Elite females appear to be distinguished by a two-piece jade spindle and whorl set (Tombs 11, 22, and 6 [only whorl]), although an exception may be Tomb 2 from the Tier 2 platform cemetery at Hengshan 横山, which contained 132 stone yue, one jade yue, and a spindle and whorl set in addition to many other jades (Childs-Johnson 2009, p. 334). The gender of the latter corpse has not been scientifically analyzed. Although differences between ruling-class males and females appear in terms of a few specific jade types, females were buried in similar locations to males underscoring their high status alongside males in Tier 1 burials. For example, the largest number of jade adornments, totaling 647, derives from Tomb 12 at Fanshan, a male burial containing the “Royal Cong.” The largest number of jades from a female burial totals 527 in Tomb 11 at Yaoshan. It is worthwhile noting that most of the Liangzhu jade adornment types (for example: huang, beads, huan 环 rings, yue) also appear in earlier Songze and Lingjiatan cultural sites along the Yangzi River in south China. As noted by Fang Xianming: Based on the analysis of human bones and burial goods within the cemetery at Chuoqun, Kunshan in Jiangsu, jades were primarily owned by the female sex—a very significant phenomenon of the Songze cultural period. Women at this stage occupied the main position within the community and society, maintaining social stability and cohesion (Fang 2019, forthcoming). The preeminence of women as jade owners during the earlier Songze phase could shed light on what may be equality between male and female
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 157 genders during the Liangzhu cultural phase of the Jade Age. The distinction between knowledge of spinning versus the knowledge of using yue as a weapon may have defined a certain professional equality at this early time in proto-history.
Conclusion Based on the jade articles of adornment found in the elite burials that were part of Liangzhu Ancient City’s raised earthen pyramidal mounds, the appearance of a Liangzhu leader (chief or ruler) may be reconstructed as provided in Figure 8.6. As illustrated, the leader would be clothed in an ornate assemblage of jade. His jade head ornaments would have been numerous, ranging from a toothed comb with trapezoidally shaped crown, to stick pins, a headband decorated with axially located D-shaped ornaments sewn onto the band at their backside, and/or a three-prong centralized jade designed for insertion of what most likely was a broad array of eyed peacock feathers. His neck and chest would have been layered with multiple jade necklaces of variously shaped beads in addition to different small-scale sculpted images and larger huang-shaped ornaments. All of the latter could be incised with the semi-human image of the Liangzhu deity. The wearer’s clothing, most likely made of hemp or silk, was secured by a belt with jade buckle, and may also have been decorated with iconic imagery. Jade bracelets and armlets would have encircled both his upper arms and wrists. A pair of matching V-shaped jades rendered with high relief openwork images, probably of the semi-human animal spirit, would have decorated his knees or possibly his boots and were sewn onto that part of the dress. He would have also carried a jade yue ax bound to a lacquered wooden pole; with its chape and pommel profusely and meticulously decorated with standardized imagery of the mythic spirit power. The trapezoidally shaped jade blade may have been worked with the emblematic imagery of the semi-human animal spirit and cosmological bird. In addition, small-scale jade beads in the shape of miniature cong or disks may have been suspended at pommel level of the blade. Female elites would have been adorned with similar accoutrements, minus the jade yue, and the three-prong and D-shaped four-piece head ornaments. The formal appearance undoubtedly was more elaborate, gaudy, and ostentatious than rendered here in the reconstruction. Although nephrite is not as dense as the jadeite or greenstone worn by Olmec chieftains, jades were likely much more cumbersome than depicted in Figure 8.6. This adornment characterized formal paraphernalia, apparel worn most likely during occasions of ritual displays, ritual auguries, or ritual offerings. Nonetheless, the outcome is clear: Liangzhu clan leaders used jade trappings to symbolize their might and spiritual metamorphic power, evoking the vital force of life possessed by the medium of jade itself and their adornment of iconic deities and their symbols emanating life force. One can only imagine, too, that the sound of such clinking jade adornments—mesmerizing, tinkling, and chiming magically invoked the tune of the gods.
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Figure 8.6 Hypothetical reconstruction of a Liangzhu leader based on jade paraphernalia within burials of Liangzhu Ancient City’s raised earthen pyramidal mounds (left) and an in situ burial, Tomb 19 from Fanshan. Figure prepared by Scott Mann and adapted from Childs-Johnson 2008, Figure 17.
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Jade Age adornment of the Liangzhu elite 159
Notes This chapter updates in part an earlier study, see Childs-Johnson 2009. 1 2 See the recent English summary of excavations of Anhui Provincial Institute of Cultural Relics and Archaeology (2009) and the original report in Chinese by Zhang (2008). 3 Multiple jade caps and jade fittings for various types of utensils (Childs-Johnson 2009, Figure 15E-I) typify Liangzhu Ancient City mound burials and do not appear elsewhere.
References Anhui Provincial Institute of Cultural Relics and Archaeology 2009, ‘New discoveries in the fifth excavation of the Lingjiatan Site in Hanshan County, Anhui,’ Chinese Archaeology, vol. 9, pp. 63–73 and the Chinese original written by Zhang, J 2008, ‘Anhui sheng Han shan xian Lingjiatan yizhi diwu ci fajue de xin faxian 安徽省含山县凌家滩遗址第五次发掘的新发现,’ Kaogu, vol. 3, pp. 7–17. Chang, K 1986, Archaeology of ancient China, 4th edn, Yale University Press, New Haven. Childs-Johnson, E with Gu, F 2009, The Jade Age [and] early Chinese jades in American museums 玉器时代, 美国博物馆臧中国早期玉器, Kexue chubanshe, Beijing. Childs-Johnson, E 2017, ‘Jade dragons and dragon origins,’ in Mythical beasts, the power of the dragon, pp. 9–18. Throckmorton Fine Art, New York. Childs-Johnson, E 2016, ‘Urban daemons of early China,’ in Urbanism in ancient China, Archaeological Research in Asia, Online 9.19.2016 1-16, Elsevier Ltd (article in press version). Childs-Johnson, E 2009, ‘The art of working jade and the rise of civilization in China,’ in The Jade Age and early Chinese jades in American Museums, pp. 291– 393. Kexue chubanshe, Beijing. Childs-Johnson, E 2008, The Meaning of the graph yi 異 and its implications for Shang belief and art, East Asia Journal Monograph, Saffron Books, London. Childs- Johnson, E 2006, ‘Speculation on the function of the Chinese jade disk named bi and prismatic cylinder named cong,’ in Heaven and Earth, pp. 1–6. Throckmorton Fine Art, New York. Childs-Johnson, E 2002, Enduring art of Jade Age China: vol. II, Chinese jades of the late Neolithic through Han periods, Throckmorton Fine Art, New York. Childs-Johnson, E 1998, ‘The metamorphic image: a predominant theme in Shang ritual art,’ Bulletin of the Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities, no. 70, pp. 5–171. Childs-Johnson, E 1989, ‘The bird in Shang ritual art: intermediary to the supernatural,’ Orientations, vol. 20, no. 11, pp. 53–60. Childs-Johnson, E 1988, Ritual and power: jades of ancient China, China Institute in America, New York. Childs-Johnson, E 1983, “Identification of the tomb occupant and periodization of M5,” and “Excavation of Tomb no. 5 at Yinxu, Anyang,” Chinese Sociology and Anthropology, vol. 15, no. 3, pp. 1–131. Fang, X 2019, forthcoming, “The Neolithic revolution in the south ca.7/6000–2000 BCE: Majiabang, Hemudu, Daxi, Songze cultures,’ in E Childs-Johnson (ed), Oxford handbook on early China, Oxford University Press, Oxford.
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160 Elizabeth Childs-Johnson Guo, D 1997, ‘Hua wunianqian wenmingde xiangzheng-Niuheliang Hongshan wenhua tan miaozhuo 花五千年文明的象征-牛河梁红山文化坛庙㧻 (The Significance of China’s five-thousand year old civilization—The Hongshan Culture Mound, Temple and Burial Site at Niuheliang,’ in Niuheliang Hongshan wenhua yizhi yu yuqi jingcui 牛河梁红山文化遗址玉器精粹, pp. 1–48. Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Hansford, SH 1968, Chinese carved jades, Faber & Faber, London. Hayashi, M (M Yang, trans) 1997, Zhongguo fuyu yanjiu 中國股與研究, Yishu tushu gongsi, Taibei. Huang, X 2000, Fuquanshan 福泉山, Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Institute of Archaeology, CASS 1980, Yinxu Fu Hao mu 殷墟妇子墓 (The tomb of Fu Zi [Hao] at Yinxu), Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. James, JM 1991, ‘Images of power: masks of the Liangzhu culture,’ Orientations, vol. 22, no. 6, pp. 46– 55; Report in Orientations Chinese jade 1983– 1996, pp. 101–110, Hong Kong. Lin, HD 1998, Liangzhu wenhua yanjiu 良渚文化研究 (Research on Liangzhu Culture), Zhejiang jiaoyu chubanshe, Hangzhou, Zhejiang. Liu, B 2019, forthcoming, ‘Liangzhu culture and the ancient city of Liangzhu,’ in E Childs-Johnson (ed), Oxford handbook on early China, Oxford University Press, Oxford. Liu, B, et al. 2017, ‘Earliest hydraulic enterprise in China, 5,100 years ago,’ PNAS, December, 114 (52) www.pnas.org/cgi/doi/10.1073/pnas.1710516114. Lu, J 1997, “Liangzhu wenhua muzang yanjiu 良渚文化募葬研究 (A study of Liangzhu burials),’ in H Xu (ed), Dongfang wenming zhi guang 东方文明之光, pp. 176– 217. Nanjing Museum, Nanjing with Hainan International News Publishers, Hainan. Mou, Y 1989, ‘Discussion of worship and belief as reflected on Liangzhu Jades,’ in B Su (ed), Qingzhu Su Bingqi kaogu whushuwu nian lunwenji 庆祝苏秉琦考古五十五年论文集 (Collected articles commemorating 55 years of archaeology), pp. 184–197. Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Mou, Y 1979, ‘An archaeological investigation into the function of jade bi and cong,’ in R Scott (ed), Chinese jades, pp. 63–76. Percival David Foundation of Chinese Art, London. Shuo, Z 2000, ‘Liangzhu wenhua chubu fenxi 良渚文化初步分析 (A preliminary analysis of the Liangzhu culture),’ Kaogu xuebao, vol. 4, pp. 421–450; translated and abbreviated into English by Z Zhang, 2001 in Chinese Archaeology vol. 1 no, 1, pp. 30–35. Sukhu, G 2012, The Shaman and the Heresiarch, A new interpretation of the Li Sao, SUNY Press, Albany. Taube, KA 2005, ‘The symbolism of jade in Classic Maya religion,’ Ancient Mesoamerica 16, pp. 23–50. Taube, KA & Ishihara-Brito, R 2012, ‘From stone to jewel, jade in ancient Maya and rulership,’ in J Pillsbury, M Doutriaux, R Ishihara-Brito & A Tokovinine (eds), Ancient Maya art at Dumbarton Oaks, pp. 136–153. Zhang, Z 1999, ‘Kuitan Lingjiatan mudi 窥探凌家滩墓地 (Analysis of the cemetery at Lingjiatan),’ in Lingjiatan mudi 凌家滩玉器 (Jades of Lingjiatan), pp. 141–154. Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Zhejiang sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo 2005, Fanshan 反山 2 vols., Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Zhejiang sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo 2003. Hemudu 河姆渡, 2 vols., Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing.
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9 Does a feather in your hat a barbarian make? Headgear and hairstyles in Han dynasty tomb murals in the Ordos Leslie V. Wallace Fenghuangshan 鳳凰山 Tomb 1, a tomb located in the western portion of the Ordos Desert, is one of several 1st-and 2nd-century CE tombs excavated in Inner Mongolia, whose murals remain well-preserved. Across the four walls of the tomb, male and female figures appear in a number of scenes common in Han (206 BCE-220 CE) mortuary art, enjoying music and dancing, playing the popular board game, liubo 六博, and practicing archery (Figures 9.1 and 9.2).1 However, the male and female attendants on either side of the doors in the tomb, the herders in the hills on the west wall, and the female figures in and around the compound depicted on the west and east walls, wear headgear and/or hairstyles not commonly seen in other tombs. Previous scholarship has associated these headdresses and hairstyles with two groups that are described in Han sources: the Xiongnu 匈奴, a political confederation of nomadic groups living to the north of the Han Empire, and the Qiang 羌, a group living roughly to the north and west (Ma 2003; Zhang 2000). Here, rather than attempt to make a one-to-one correlation between these hairstyles and headdresses and peoples mentioned in historical texts, I take a different approach, viewing them as part of a larger assemblage of modifications and additions to the body that communicates multiple facets of identity.2 I begin with an overview of this approach adopted from contemporary dress theory and then provide a general introduction to Han clothing, hairstyles, headdresses, and ornaments, which forms a baseline for later comparisons of the imagery in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1. Following an overview of the tomb, its context, and pictorial program, I consider the headdresses and hairstyles of the male and female figures in turn. Rather than trying to match these figures to groups mentioned in historical sources, I instead argue that the depiction of headgear, hairstyles, and ornaments in the tomb is better understood as an expression of the contested and complicated nature of socio-political life along the Han northern frontier.
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Figure 9.1 Top: Line drawing of the west wall of Fenghuangshan Tomb 1. Bottom left: Figures riding in a chariot procession depicted on the west wall. Bottom right: Herders in the hills depicted on the west wall. Adapted from Wei 1998, p. 170, Figure 14, bottom and color plates 6.2 and 7.2.
Figure 9.2 Left: Detail of a line drawing of a portion of the east wall of Fenghuangshan Tomb 1. Right: Detail showing the female figures in the courtyard on the east wall. Adapted from Wei 1998, p. 170, Figure 14, top and color plate 5.1.
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Headgear, hairstyles in Han dynasty murals 163
Methodology and Han Dynasty dress Following a recent study of archaic and classical Greek dress by Mirielle M. Lee (2015), I approach the headgear and hairstyles in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1 using modes of analysis developed in contemporary dress theory that views aspects of dress as a form of nonverbal communication and an embodied social practice through which individual and group identity is created. I refer to Mary Roach-Higgins and Joanne Eicher’s (1992) inclusive definition of dress as a combination of body modifications (for example, the hairstyles in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1) and supplements (the hats and feathers in the same tomb), stressing the phenomenological aspect of dress. The vast array of modifications or additions identified by Roach-Higgins and Eicher work in tandem within a larger system of non-verbal signs that communicate different aspects or support similar elements of an individual’s social identity (Lee 2015, p. 24). Reciprocally, the centrality of dress and its components to in-group cohesion has been demonstrated in ethnographic and archaeological sources, allowing members of a group or subgroup to identify one another and make social distinctions (Golani 2014, pp. 269– 270; Wobst 1977). The idea that dress was a medium through which individuals articulated identity and interacted with the social world around them, and that it functioned as a solidifier of in-group solidarity are concepts that resonate well with passages in early Chinese ritual texts like the Yili 儀禮 (Etiquette and Rites) and the Liji 禮記 (Book of Ritual), where gradations in social rank are expressed though the different colors, materials, and embellishments of clothing, accessories, and ornaments.3 In both texts, these details of dress play a key role in the larger panoply of ritual performance, working in tandem with the setting as well as with the actions of the participants to determine their political, social, and ritual status. Dress was also a strong signifier of who was and was not part of the Han cultural sphere. One notable reference in this regard occurs in the work of Sima Qian 司馬遷 (d. 86 BCE) who, in his epic history, the Shiji 史記 (Records of the Grand Historian), refers to his own culture vis-à-vis neighboring groups as, “the land of caps and girdles.”4 Surviving archaeological, textual, and visual sources suggest that sumptuary gradations could be subtle and that the basic components of Han male and female dress were similar. Elite men and women wore relatively the same clothes—a mixture of layers of long robes that were drawn across the chest and fastened at the waist by a sash or belt hook. They also both wore their hair long, drawn back, and often bound atop the head, and each used cosmetics. It was often variations in the trim of garments, elaboration and multiplication of hair buns, and ornaments that differentiated male from female, old from young, and the different ranks within the Han upper class. One clear gender distinction appearing in archaeological, textual, and visual sources is that men typically wore hats and had moustaches or beards, while women adorned their hair with pins and other ornaments. This is also
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164 Leslie V. Wallace mirrored by coming-of-age ceremonies in ritual texts with the capping ceremony marking the transition for males from adolescence to adulthood, and a similar ceremony involving pinning the hair for girls.5 Archaeologically and visually we see this borne out in the 2nd-century BCE tombs at Mawangdui where, in the northern chambers of Tombs 1 and 3—the burials of Lady Dai and a younger male relative respectively— furniture, figurines, and other objects were arranged to create a spirit seat (lingwei 靈位) for the deceased, which enabled him/her to see, eat, and smell in the afterlife (Wu 2010, pp. 64–68). In both cases, the tableaux found in the northern chamber includes a similarly equipped array of personal items placed on or around an empty couch. Multi-chambered cosmetics boxes were found on the couch in both tombs, but certain objects within each were individualized, notably a black cap for the male and hairpins for the female (Lullo 2010, pp. 53–56). This is mirrored in the representation of Lady Dai and her male relative in the painted silk banners draped over their coffins, where the male is depicted with a high black hat and the female with her hair drawn atop her head and secured with ornamented pins (He, Hunan sheng bowuguan, & Hunan sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiu suo, 2004; Hunan sheng bowuguan & Zhongguo kexueyuan kaogu yanjiu suo 1973) (Figure 9.3). Although some assemblages of dressed individuals and burial textiles have survived from Han and pre-Han times, the largest source of information we have regarding dress comes from murals, tomb reliefs, and depictions in other media buried in the tomb. Analysis of these sets of materials pose interpretive challenges, and it is important to note that: (1) their primary function was to create a complete world in the afterlife for the deceased; and (2) such imagery was based on idealization, cosmological considerations, and the needs of the living. Although the residents of the afterlife were the primary audience, those attending the funeral would have also been able to observe imagery depicted in murals. Thus, representations of dress in tombs should be seen, not as passive reflections of social customs, but as deliberate choices that reproduced and could challenge aspects of the social structure, reinforcing codes communicating gender, age, and status.6
Historical and archaeological context Fenghuangshan is a Han period site located in the Ordos Desert in Inner Mongolia. From the 1st and 2nd century CE, it lay at the center of a large stretch of the Xiongnu grasslands that formed an important nexus between the Han Empire and its pastoral neighbors to the north and west. Although the burial goods recovered from these tombs are comparable to mortuary goods in other regions of the Han Empire, their structure—a sloping tomb ramp and single burial chamber cut directly into a red sandstone embankment with internal divisions articulated by steps and niches—differs from the multi- chambered brick tombs prevalent to the south (Miller 2015, p. 21). The interior of Tomb 1 is 3.12 meters long, 2.72 meters wide, and its
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Figure 9.3 Detail of a line drawing of the center portion of the painted silk funerary banner from Mawangdui Tomb 1 showing the deceased and attendants. From Hunan sheng bowuguan & Zhongguo kexueyuan kaogu yanjiu suo, 1973, vol. 1, Figure 36.
pyramid-shaped ceiling reaches 1.36 meters at its apex. The walls and ceiling of the main tomb chamber were covered with murals made from black, red, green, white, brown, and blue pigments painted over a half-centimeter-thick layer of grayish-white plaster (Wei 1998, pp. 161, 169, and 173). In the early years of the Han dynasty, the Ordos and the areas surrounding the northern loop of the Yellow River were home to a number of pastoral groups organized under the banner of the Xiongnu confederation. Han attempts to colonize the region began in the 120s BCE with the establishment of an extensive network of walls and military garrisons, which was quickly followed by the establishment of small cities populated through the forced migration of large numbers of people from the interior of the empire. Concurrently, the Xiongnu and other groups who surrendered to the Han were also forced to migrate away from their homelands, resulting in large
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166 Leslie V. Wallace concentrations of displaced groups in and around the Ordos. In a further attempt to stabilize the region and make it self-sufficient, the Han government carried out a series of irrigation projects to increase the overall agricultural productivity of the region. Although today the Ordos is an expanse of sand and rocks, during the Han dynasty it was part of a vast grassland, with agricultural productivity and Han settlements increasing in number with proximity to the northern loop of the Yellow River. Overall attempts at colonization appear to have been fairly successful by the end of the 1st century BCE, but the inconsistent policies of Wang Mang 王莽’s short-lived Xin dynasty (9–23 CE), and the volatility of the early years of the 1st century CE, destabilized the region. The surrender of the Southern Xiongnu in 50 CE, a few decades after the restoration of the Han dynasty, brought a second, albeit, less-extensive wave of Han expansion and development to the region. By 150 CE, however, the political situation had once again deteriorated and, by the end of the 2nd century CE, Han agricultural and military settlements were largely abandoned. Even when the Ordos and its environs were at their most stable, the region was a fragmented landscape, marked by fluid political, social, cultural, and economic boundaries. Groups or individuals living within the region shifted their allegiance between the Han or the Xiongnu, depending on political and social expediency. Situating the construction of Fenghuangshan Tomb 1 into this historical overview is complicated by the lack of consensus that exists regarding the date of this tomb. Wei (1998, p. 173) originally suggested, based on the burial structure and goods, and the cemetery as a whole, that the tomb dates to the late 1st century BCE to early 1st century CE; a similar date was suggested by Zhang (2000, p. 16) and Ma (2003, p. 60). This date places the tomb’s construction at the height of Han development and control of the region. Others, like Huang (2008, p. 92) and He (2006, pp. 32 and 108), in their larger syntheses of Han tomb murals, date the tomb to the late 2nd century CE. In this case, the tomb would have been constructed as Han control of the region was collapsing, a period roughly contemporary to that of the famous Eastern Han painted mural tomb at Helinge’er 和林格尔, Inner Mongolia. Ten other Han tombs dating from the end of the 1st century BCE to the end of the 2nd century CE have been excavated on either side of the northern loop of the Yellow River or within the Ordos Plateau, but most of these tombs lack datable materials, have been looted, and/or are poorly preserved. These factors make any definitive statement regarding the absolute date of Fenghuangshan Tomb 1 tenuous.
Pictorial program The pictorial program of the tomb is designed as follows. Standing in the doorway of the tomb facing the rear wall, the viewer first sees a painted wood-framed door flanked by three figures and a dog. On the left, the figure closest to the door stands with clothing draped over his arms, while another
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Headgear, hairstyles in Han dynasty murals 167 man stands behind him holding a club-like object with a red decorated cover. On the right side of the door, another man holds a similar club-like object with a black cover; behind him stands a lean black dog. Above them, on the apex of the rear wall, is a one-horned mythical beast facing a bear or wolf-like figure who stands on its hind legs. Both figures are depicted against a swirling cloud-like pattern common in Han mortuary art, and the entire scene is separated further from the figures below by a red curtain that has been drawn up and is decorated with a similar swirling design. This same curtain also serves as a border between the walls and the ceiling where the eastern and western walls meet the rear wall, integrating the scenes that are depicted on all three walls. The eastern wall depicts a range of disconnected imagery: closest to the rear of the tomb are images of weapons, a shield, and a crossbow and stand, alongside the same mythical one-horned beast depicted on the rear wall. On the far right near the front of the tomb is a scene featuring a walled compound, where musicians and dancers perform in the courtyard and several figures are depicted in the interior of the compound carrying out different activities; the pair on the far right appears to be playing liubo, a two-player board game popular in early China. In front of the compound, an ox-drawn carriage with two figures and a carriage covered by a black canopy (zhaoche 軺車) with a single passenger appear to be passing by. The left portion of the western wall, closest to the front of the tomb, is a continuation of the same walled compound with another dancer and a musician. At the top center of the mural is a large terrace, where three women, joined by a child on a ram (?), watch three men shooting at birds. Outside the compound is a procession that includes a man on horseback and two horse-drawn carriages; to the front of the procession are several seemingly random animals. On the far right, near the rear of the tomb, is a scene of herders tending animals in the hills below the same patterned curtain seen on the rear wall. The lower portion of the mural is damaged, but the figures that remain suggest it may have possibly been an agricultural scene (Figure 9.1). On the front wall, flanking the actual entrance of the tomb are three figures. To the right of the entrance, the figure closest to the door holds a staff; behind him stands another figure holding a multi-level tray. To the left of the door a figure stands holding a jar in front of a low table to the right. Finally, on the ceiling of the tomb, stars, swirling clouds, and the moon are painted in white against a black sky.
Headgear and hairstyles: Male figures in and around the compound vs. herders in the hills Within this microcosm, figures don no less than four different types of headgear and have three different hairstyles and a variety of clothes that work in tandem with their placement in the pictorial program to communicate their
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168 Leslie V. Wallace gender, status, occupation, and cultural background. The clearest contrast in terms of dress and compositional juxtaposition exists between the male figures in and around the compound on the eastern and western walls and the herders in the hills on the west wall. Most male figures in and around the compound have their hair drawn up and tucked under a round, wedge- shaped cap made of sheer or light-colored fabric, and which sits on top of the head at a slight angle and ties at the chin. They also have moustaches and wear the typical long, flowing robes of the Han elite (Figure 9.1). In contrast, although the details of the dress of the herders are not as clear, they appear to wear their hair long—one with potentially a high bun and one without, but with some portion of their hair trailing down their backs—and they are wearing trousers, as the artist(s) have clearly delineated their legs in profile (Figure 9.1). Based on visual and textual sources, the type of cap worn by the male figures in and around the compound was popular from roughly the Warring States period (475–221 BCE) through the Western Han (206 BCE-9 CE). An early example includes the cap worn by the gentleman riding a dragon, depicted in a silk painting from Zidanku 子弹庫 Tomb 1, Changsha 長沙, Hunan (5th–3rd centuries BCE). Later examples can also be found in the late 1st-century BCE tomb at Balitai 八裡檯, Luoyang 洛陽 (Huang & Guo 1996, p. 102, Figure 1) and an early 1st-century CE tomb at Houtun 後屯, Dongping 東平, Shandong (Shandong sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiu suo & Dongping xian wenwu guanli suo 2010, color plate 22). These examples also reveal a change in the way in which this headdress was worn: by the end of the 1st century BCE, it became common to wear a ze 帻, or tight-fitting cloth wrap beneath the cap. Such ze can be observed on the two men to the right in the mural from Houtun. Textual sources indicate that the ze, which was originally only worn by the lower classes, became popular in the 1st century BCE (Sun 2001, pp. 161–164). The aforementioned style of dress of those in the compound can be contrasted with the attire of the herders in the hills, who lack caps and wear trousers. Trousers or leggings in and of themselves are not clear markers of cultural difference in Han mortuary art: Those who engage in manual labor, such as farmers and soldiers, are depicted wearing trousers with shorter robes drawn at the waist (Lingley 2010, pp. 57; 76: fn. 14). In the murals at Fenghuangshan, it is hard to tell exactly what combination of clothes the figures wear, but their hairstyle, long and flowing down their backs, more visibly places them outside the Han cultural sphere. However, it is not solely their hairstyle and/or clothing that marks them as being culturally separate from the figures in the compound. Their dress works in tandem with their placement in the overall composition: They are located in the rolling hills far away from the compound. Moreover, the activity they engage in, herding, is often seen as the antithesis of agriculture and is associated with non-Han groups in textual sources.7 This “otherness” is further highlighted by the now-damaged agricultural scene outside of the walled courtyard; and the
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Headgear, hairstyles in Han dynasty murals 169 male figures in and around the compound, who wear Han dress, engage in Han activities like archery and the board game liubo, and navigate a Han architectural setting (Liu 2017).8
Headgear and hairstyles: Female figures in and around the compound The women depicted with the men in and around the compound wear their hair piled on top of their heads, ornamented with a feather, and display long sidelocks hanging down on either side of their faces. They wear the standard robes of Han elite (Figures 9.1 and 9.2). Other scholars have tried to connect the sidelocks and the feathers ornamenting their hair to two groups living in the region during the Han dynasty. Specifically, based on the women’s hairstyles, the feathered hats, and the inclusion of the cattle- herding scene, Zhang (2000) has argued that these figures belong to the Western Qiang, a nomadic group originally based in the west, with certain members migrating into the Ordos during the Han dynasty. Reconsidering Zhang’s evidence, Ma (2003) argues that the hats, hairstyles, and herders all reference Xiongnu customs.9 Although the women’s hairstyle in composite— hair drawn atop the head and ornamented with a feather, plus long sidelocks—is not common in Han tomb murals and reliefs, elements of it are. Examples of hair piled atop the head with sidelocks hanging down include the depiction of the female goddess Nüwa 女媧 in a 1st-century CE tomb excavated in Qincun 辛村, Yanshi 偃师, Luoyang, Henan (Huang & Guo 1996, p. 126); women represented in early 1st-century CE tomb murals at Houtun, Dongping, Shandong (Shandong sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiu suo & Dongping xian wenwu guan li suo 2010, Figure 6); and Eastern Han tomb murals at Xin’antieta 新安鐵塔, Luoyang, Henan (Huang & Guo 1996, p. 183). Examples of hair piled on top of the head and ornamented with a feather can be seen in the Eastern Han tomb murals excavated in Haotan 郝 灘, Shaanxi (Shanxi sheng kaogu yanjiu yuan 2009, p. 140); an Eastern Han tomb relief from Qilingang 麒麟崗, Nanyang 南陽, Henan (Huang & Chen 2008, Figure 154); and the late 1st-century BCE tomb decorated with murals excavated at Xi’an Ligong University 西安理工大學, Shaanxi (He & Li 2009, Figure 1–22). Although the combination of sidelocks and feather is not as common as the different elements are separately, the hairstyle of another woman depicted in the murals at Houtun, like those of the women in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1, seems to be comprised of both (Shandong sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiu suo & Dongping xian wenwu guanli suo 2010, color plate 39). So rather than being a completely foreign custom, wearing one’s hair piled atop one’s head with long sidelocks on either side of the face and/ or a feather in one’s hair were established elements of female hairstyles and/ or adornments from at least the 1st century BCE across northern portions of the Han Empire. This hairstyle and ornamentation and the long robes
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170 Leslie V. Wallace worn by the female figures, like the caps and robes worn by their male counterparts, work with the architectural setting and the activities they are engaged in to place them securely in a Han cultural milieu. Such figures may represent women who have adopted foreign customs of adornment or conversely foreign women who were integrated into households along the Han northern frontier as wives or servants.
Headgear and hairstyles: The figures near the doors Last, we turn to the figures on either side of the doors in the tomb, both the actual door and the door created by a painted wooden frame on the rear wall of the tomb. All these figures wear a combination of dress that is different from the figures depicted in and around the compound as well as the herders in the hills. Two of the figures—one standing to the left of the actual tomb doorway and the other standing to the right of the door painted on the rear wall of the tomb—wear baggy trousers with a long robe that falls below the knees. They are also both clean-shaven and wear rounded black hats with tall brims (Figure 9.4).10 The figures who stand on the other side of each door wear standard long-flowing Han robes and high top hats decorated with feathers. The black hats with high brims are virtually non-existent in Han mortuary art, but their clothing is similar to other figures, depicted in Han murals, who hold weapons and/or are associated with the military. Their placement in the tomb connects them with a common Han tomb figure—the door official and/or door guardian. For example, in 1st-and 2nd-century tomb reliefs from northern Shaanxi, just south of the Ordos and Fenghuangshan, door officials wear knee-length robes and baggy trousers, but none wear hats similar to the ones worn by the figures in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1. This may mean that these hats reflect their non-Han status. Han textual sources tell us that foreign soldiers were often incorporated into the ranks of the Han military as part of a larger policy known as “Using Foreigners to Control Foreigners 以夷製夷” (Shangguan xuzhi 2006; Xing 1973; Hong 1958), and so their assumption of the role of tomb official/tomb guardian may have been deemed appropriate in the context of the Han northern frontier. Similarly, although the other figures wear the long robes of Han elite, hats decorated with feathers are almost completely absent from pre-Han and Han mortuary art. The few examples of headgear decorated with feathers found in visual and textual sources are associated with foreign figures/styles of dress and/or the military. Two feathers adorn the tight-fitting caps of a mounted figure holding a short sword on a Warring States bronze mirror from Luoyang, which scholars have explained as the adoption of foreign dress and mounted archery by King Wuling of Zhao 趙武靈 (r. 325–299 BCE). A similar cap seems to be worn by a mounted archer in a Han tomb relief, also referenced by these scholars. Historical texts mention a style of hat worn by specialized members of the Han military and known as a he
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Figure 9.4 Detail of the rear wall of Fenghuangshan M1. Adapted from Wei 1998, color plates 3.1 and 3.2.
guan 鶡冠, in which two pheasant feathers were attached to either side of a standard military hat. This type of hat may be depicted on another tomb brick from Nanyang (for examples of scholars who discuss these styles, see Shen 2011, pp. 48–50; Gao 2002, p. 194; Sun 2001, p. 178, Figures 12–15; Dai 1998, pp. 56–57). The connection to these hats with the ones depicted in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1, however, is questionable. In each of these cases the hats have two feathers, and in the visual record are affixed to caps that fit snugly against the head. Ma (2003) also suggested an affinity of the hats in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1 with a high, rounded hat decorated with two feathers excavated in Xinjiang, and a similar hat minus the feathers worn by a Han tomb figure, excavated in Inner Mongolia. However, once again when comparing the details of these hats, they do not have the same number of feathers as those worn by the figures in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1 and, more importantly, they lack the wide, slim brim. In sum, based on our current knowledge, no other figures in pre-Han or Han mortuary art wear hats decorated with a single feather like those that appear in Fenghuangshan Tomb 1.
Conclusion Considering the evidence presented here, one can return to the eponymous question posed by this chapter: “Does a feather in your hat a barbarian make?” The short answer is probably yes, but I would argue that this query
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172 Leslie V. Wallace in itself is not a means to an end, but rather a starting point for larger questions about the relationships between the deceased of Fenghuangshan Tomb 1 and the non-Han groups with whom he appears to have had contact. An illuminating contrast can be seen in the depiction of non-Han individuals in the Eastern Han tomb at Helinge’er, where non-Han figures, devoid of any individual traits, line up in rows to submit to the deceased who, in life, held various official positions along the Han northern frontier. This mural presents a version of life along the Han northern frontier in which non-Han groups readily come in contact with and submit to the power of the Han, and in which political and social positions are bifurcated, hierarchical, and clear- cut. The murals decorating Fenghuangshan Tomb 1 suggest a different scenario, one in which the community where the deceased lived was comprised of various non-Han groups, and where Han officials and/or elite frequently had to make political and social compromises and required the aid of non-Han people or groups. As in life, the visual program of the tomb pictured non-Han figures displaying their own social and cultural identities through headgear and hairstyle, reiterating the multicultural world in which the deceased lived. Given the combination of extant visual, textual, and archaeological evidence, we unfortunately cannot reconstruct the exact historical circumstances in which this tomb was made. We can, however, gather a very different picture of life along the Han northern frontier and of Han relationships with other groups than that which is recorded in the standard histories or depicted by stereotypical representations of foreigners with large noses and pointed caps common in Han mortuary art. Through a combination of hairstyle, dress, setting, and action, artisans who worked on this tomb have instead suggested a number of cultural groups living with Han settlers along the northern frontier and constructed an idealized reality for the occupant of the tomb. This is not to posit that these murals show a completely conflict-free vision of the Han northern frontier or different cultural groups as social equals: the figures wearing non-Han dress are subordinated to the role of tomb guardians and servants, and the herders in the hills are depicted as spatially separate and living apart. Rather, the murals do suggest a more realistic world in which political, social, and cultural negotiation was necessary and commonplace.
Notes 1 Throughout this chapter, I use the term “Han” to refer to objects, customs, and so forth common in the interior of the Han empire and the period of Han political rule (roughly 206 BCE to 220 CE), and not as a reference to the modern ethnonym, “Han Chinese.” 2 Throughout I follow the definition of identity provided by Sørensen (1997, p. 94): “The characteristics of an individual or group that are assigned and assumed by the group and others as a result of perceived differences from and similarities to others. These identities are created and assigned qualities, which result in both cohesion and separation.”
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Headgear, hairstyles in Han dynasty murals 173 3 Both of these ritual texts were compiled during the Han dynasty, but outline and/ or discuss earlier practices. The Yili focuses on normative ritual prescriptions and includes chapters on the ceremonies of capping, marriage, interstate missions, and mortuary rites that were supposedly practiced by the late Spring and Autumn period (771–476 BCE) low-level aristocrats. The Liji is a much more diverse text, which contains ritual prescriptions embedded in larger discussions of ritual theory. Although both texts draw on established ritual practice, it is clear that they most likely provide significant alterations and re-interpretations of actual practice. 4 For a good example of this juxtaposition, see Sima Qian’s (1959) chapter on the ultimate Han Other, the Xiongnu: Shiji 110, “Account of the Xiongnu (Xiongnu liezhuan 匈奴列傳”). 5 For an analysis of the ritual of capping see Hardy (1993). Modification and/or adornment of the head and hair constitute a recurrent theme throughout archaeological, historical, and ethnographic sources relating to rites of passage and other rituals related to changes in social-sexual status (Sørensen 2000, p. 138). 6 For a discussion of Eastern Han funerals as political and social events and venues for public display, see Miranda Brown (2007). Other scholars have also stressed that bodily adornment and its accompanying practices manipulate, conceal and/ or exaggerate actual lived experience (Colburn & Heyn 2008, p. 1; Fischer & Loren 2003, p. 227). 7 For example, Sima Qian (1959) in Shiji 110, “Account of the Xiongnu,” describes the Xiongnu as nomadic herders who wander about without any permanent dwellings in search of pasture for their animals. 8 My interpretation/explanation of how these different components—dress, action, and so forth—combine with the landscape/architectural setting to construct two different categories of male figures in the tomb: Han and non-Han–draws on the idea of performativity put forward by Judith Butler (1988). Butler argued that gender is created through “stylized repetition of acts,” which can include such things as gestures, speech, dress, and so forth. 9 Both Zhang’s and Ma’s approach suggests the shortcomings inherent in attempting a one-to-one correlation with specific groups mentioned in the standard histories and the tombs or depictions of individuals or groups of people. Although the standard histories do offer some details on the dress and customs of non- Han groups, their descriptions are often stereotyped and laced with hyperbole. The Xiongnu themselves were a confederation of different groups, whose cohesiveness may have had more to do with military or political expediency than a shared cultural system or way of life. 10 Variations on this same hat are worn by two male figures in the procession that passes in front of the compound.
References Brown, M 2007, The politics of mourning in early China, State University of New York Press, Albany. Butler, J 1988, ‘Performative acts and gender constitution: an essay in phenomenology and feminist theory,’ Theatre Journal, vol. 40, no. 4, pp. 519–531. Colburn, CS & Heyn, MK 2008, ‘Introduction,’ in CS Colburn & MK Heyn (eds), Reading a dynamic canvas: adornment in the ancient Mediterranean world, pp. 1–12. Cambridge Scholars Publishing, Newcastle.
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174 Leslie V. Wallace Dai, Z 1988, Zhongguo gudai fuzshi jianshi 中國古代服飾簡史 (A brief history of ancient Chinese clothing), Qinggong ye chubanshe: Xinhua shudian Beijing faxing suo faxing, Beijing. Fischer, G & Loren, DD 2003, ‘Embodying identity in archaeology: introduction,’ Cambridge Archaeological Journal, vol. 13, no. 2, pp. 225–230. Gao, C 2002, Zhongguo fushi 中國服飾 (Chinese clothing), Shanghai waiyujiao chubanshe, Shanghai. Golani, A 2014, ‘Revealed by their jewelry: ethnic identity of Israelites during the Iron Age in the Levant,’ in A Golani and Z Wygnańska (eds), Beyond ornamentation: Jewelry as an aspect of material culture in the ancient Near East (Polish Archaeology in the Mediterranean, 32.2), pp. 269–296. Polish Centre of Mediterranean Archaeology, Warsaw. Hardy, G 1993, ‘The reconstruction of ritual: capping in ancient China,’ Journal of Ritual Studies, vol. 7, no 2, pp. 69–90. He, J, Hunan sheng bowuguan, & Hunan sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiu suo 1994, Changsha Mawangdui er san hao Han mu 長沙馬王堆二, 三號漢墓 (Changsha, Mawangdui Han Tombs 2 and 3), Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. He, X 2001, Gumu danqing: Handai mushi bihua de faxian yu yanjiu 古墓丹青: 漢 代墓室壁畫的發現與硏究 (Ancient tombs and pigments: discovery and research on Han dynasty tomb murals), Shaanxi renmin chubanshe, Xi’an. He, X & Li, Q 2009, Zhongguo mushi bihua shi 中國墓室壁畫史 (The history of Chinese tomb murals), Gaodeng jiaoyu chubanshe, Beijing. Hong, T 1958, ‘Liang Han Sanguo de “Yi Bing,” 两漢三國的 “夷兵” (Foreign Soldiers of the Han Dynasty and Three Kingdoms Period)’ Wenshizhe, vol. 3, pp. 29–35. Huang, M & Guo, Y 1996, Luoyang Han mu bihua 洛陽漢壁畫 (Luoyang Han tomb murals), Wenwu chubanshe: Xin hua shudian jing xiao, Beijing. Huang, P 2008, Handai mushi bihua yanjiu 漢代墓室壁畫硏究 (Research on Han tomb murals), Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Huang, Y & Chen, C 2008, Nanyang Qilingang Han huaxiang shi mu 南陽麒麟崗漢 畫像石 (Han Stone reliefs from Qilingang, Nanyang), San Qin chubanshe, Xi’an. Hunan sheng bowuguan & Zhongguo kexueyuan kaogu yanjiu suo 1973, Changsha Mawangdui yi hao Han mu 長沙馬王堆一號漢墓 (Changsha, Mawangdui Han Tomb 1), Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Lee, M 2015, Body, dress, and identity in ancient Greece, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Lingley, K 2010, ‘Naturalizing the exotic: on the changing meanings of ethnic dress in medieval China,’ Ars Orientalis 38, pp. 50–80. Liu, C 2017, ‘The Qin and Han imperial city: modeling and visualizing Architecture,’ in The age of empires: art of the Qin and Han dynasties, pp. 29–38. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Lullo, S 2010. Toiletry case sets across life and death in Early China (5th c. BCE-3rd c. CE). PhD Diss: University of Pittsburgh. Ma, L 2003, ‘Nei Menggu Fenghuangshan Han mu bihua er ti 内蒙古鳳凰山漢墓 壁畫二題 (Two questions regarding the murals in Han Tomb 1, Fenghuangshan, Inner Mongolia),’ Kaogu yu wenwu, vol. 2, pp. 60–69. Miller, B 2015, ‘The Southern Xiongnu in northern China: navigating and negotiating the Middle Ground,’ in J Bemmann & M Schmauder (eds), Complexity of interaction along the Eurasian Steppe zone in the first millennium CE, Bonn
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Headgear, hairstyles in Han dynasty murals 175 Contributions to Asian Archaeology, vol. 6, pp. 127– 198. Bonn University Press, Bonn. Nei Menggu wenwu kaogu yanjiu suo 2007, Helingge’er Han mu bihua 和林格爾漢 墓壁畫 (Han tomb murals from Helinge’er, Inner Mongolia), Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Shandong sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiu suo & Dongping xian wenwu guanli suo 2010, Dongping Houtun Handai bihua mu 東平後屯漢代壁畫墓 (A Han dynasty tomb with murals from Houtun, Dongping), Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Shangguan, X 2006, ‘Liang Han zhengzhi “yi yi zhi yi” celüe yunyong de zhuyao fangshi he tedian 两漢政權”以夷制夷”策略运用的主要方式和特點 (The main methods and characteristics of the Han regime’s strategy of “using foreigners to fight foreigners”),’ Nandu xuetan, vol. 6, pp. 1–6. Shanxi sheng kaogu yanjiu yuan 2009, Bishang danqing: Shaanxi chutu bihua ji 壁上丹青: 陕西出土壁畫集 (Ancient pigments on walls: a collection of tomb murals excavated from Shaanxi), Kexue chubanshe, Beijing. Shen, C 2011, Zhongguo gudai fushi yanjiu 中國古代服飾研究 (Research on ancient Chinese clothing), Shanghai shudian chubanshe, Shanghai. Sima, Q 1959, Shiji 世紀 (Records of the Historian), Zhonghua shuju, Beijing. Sørensen, MS 2000. Gendered archaeology, Polity Press, Cambridge. ——1997, ‘Reading dress: The construction of social categories of identities in Bronze Age Europe,’ Journal of European Archaeology, vol. 5, no. 1, pp. 93–114. Sun, J 2001, Zhongguo gu yu fu luncong 中國古輿服論叢 (A collection of essays on ancient Chinese carriages and clothing), Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Wei, J 1998, Neimenggu zhong nanbu Handai muzang 内蒙古中南部漢代墓葬 (Han tombs from south central Inner Mongolia), Zhongguo tabaike quanshu chubanshe, Beijing. Wobst, HM 1977, ‘Stylistic behavior and information exchange,’ in C Cleland (ed) For the director: research essays in honor of James B. Griffin (Museum of Anthropology, University of Michigan, Anthropological Papers 61), pp. 317–342. University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Wu, H 2010, Art of the Yellow Springs: understanding Chinese tombs, University of Hawai’i Press, Honolulu. Xing, Y 1973, ‘Dong Han de hu bing 東漢的胡兵 (Eastern Han barbarian soldiers),’ Zhengzhi daxue xuebao, vol. 12, pp. 143–166. Zhang, H 2000, ‘Shilun Zhongguo jingnei Dong Han shiqi Xionngu muzang ji xiangguan wenti 试论中国境内東漢时期匈奴墓葬及相关问题 (A discussion about Eastern Han Xiongnu tombs inside China and related questions),’ Nei Mengu wenwu kaogu, vol. 1, pp. 14–22.
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10 Dressing the dead in Jin China Sarah Laursen
The Jin 晉 dynasty (265–420) was a period of uncertainty, survival, and adaptation for the Chinese court, and evidence of this unstable atmosphere can be discerned in the burial garments and accessories preserved in elite tombs. These items communicated not only the tomb occupants’ gender, official rank, and social status, but also their participation in or rejection of customs of dress inherited from the Han 漢 dynasty (206 BCE–220 CE). In this respect, Jin dress, and the environment that shaped it, exhibit strong parallels with Late Antique (4th century to mid-7th century) Roman dress, of which Maria G. Parani has written, Late antique society was a society in transformation, in the process of reinventing itself under the pressure of changing historical conditions. Roman traditional political, social, religious and moral values were brought into question by ascendant Christianity on the one hand and the rise into prominence of ‘barbarians’ in the military and state bureaucracy on the other and had to be either adapted to the new realities or abandoned altogether. In such a climate of flux different social groups, and the individuals within them, needed to carve out their own space and define their identity with clear, yet permeable boundaries, which would distinguish them from others without isolating them. Late antique dress functioned as one such boundary. (Parani 2007, pp. 524–525). In China, however, it was Daoism that had begun to erode the conservative Confucian foundations of the Han dynasty, and the “barbarians” were the Xiongnu 匈奴, Xianbei 鮮卑, and other tribes who established their own states on the periphery. Jin dress reveals a willingness to accommodate the new styles, forms, and materials that accompanied the movement of these non-Chinese groups into North China as a result of military campaigns, the expansion of international trade networks, and earlier resettlement policies. Jin dynasty and Late Antique dress also embodied reactions to the official dress codes of the Han dynasty and Roman Empire (27 BCE–395 CE)— codes that had been enacted in an effort to stabilize faltering control over
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 177 their citizenry, but had the unintended consequence of profoundly impacting visual culture for centuries to come. When the empires collapsed and new fashions began to materialize, men and women were presented with an opportunity to redefine themselves visually. In the Jin dynasty, many costuming traditions were upheld because they connoted prestige, but some scholars and adherents of Neo-Daoism began to reject traditional court dress in order to signal their retreat from the Confucian system. At the same time, women were less constrained by rigid Confucian moral standards and began to employ clothing and ornament as vehicles to exercise their budding sexual empowerment in a male-dominated society, as well as to create private spaces for their own enjoyment. This chapter explores the fragmentary remains of adornment preserved in Jin tombs and the representations of complete ensembles that have been preserved in other media. I begin with a brief overview of Jin dynasty history, followed by a discussion of the transformation of clothing styles in that period. Next, I turn my attention to two types of assemblages that have survived only in fragments—men’s belts and women’s hair ornaments and jewelry. By drawing comparisons with Roman and Late Antique dress and adornment, I hope to present some new perspectives on how dress may have been understood by both wearers and viewers in ancient China and why they were perceived in those ways. This study focuses on archaeological materials unearthed in areas under direct Jin control, particularly around the Western Jin 西晉 (265–316) capital at Luoyang 洛陽 and the Eastern Jin 東晉 (317–420) capital at Jiankang 健康 (modern Nanjing 南亰). Regions that were administered by non- Chinese rulers who had entered into tributary relations with the Jin, such as the Yan 燕 states of the Murong 慕容 Xianbei in the northeast, are not included. It should also be noted that most surviving material comes from elite tombs rather than those of the general populace, and that the tomb occupants were interred in formal attire that is at times tailored specifically to the funerary context.
The historical backdrop In 220 CE, the warlord Cao Pi 曹丕 (187–226) forced the abdication of the last emperor of the Han dynasty, ending an era of relative stability and ushering in four centuries of warfare, during which China was divided into many short-lived states. The period referred to as the Western Jin dynasty began in 265, when Sima Yan 司馬炎 (236–290) usurped the throne from the Wei 魏 kingdom (220–265) and established the Jin dynasty. When Jin forces defeated the southwestern kingdom of Wu 吳 in 280, China was briefly reunified under a single government. The first decade after the conquest of Wu was relatively peaceful, but infighting among competing princes after the death of Sima Yan in 290 destabilized the empire, making it vulnerable to attack by non-Chinese populations that had been settled inside
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178 Sarah Laursen China’s borders beginning in the Han dynasty, along with others beyond the wall in the north and the west. What followed was more than a century of chaos, during which vast segments of the population were relocated, either voluntarily or by force (Graff 2002, pp. 35–48). In 311, armies loyal to the Xiongnu general Liu Yuan 劉淵 (d. 310) marched on Luoyang, captured Western Jin Emperor Huai 懷, and razed the capital to the ground. When the emperor was killed in 313, his nephew (posthumously called Emperor Min 愍) was placed on the throne in Chang’an, where he remained until 316, when the Xiongnu took the city. When the young would-be emperor was killed a year later, the remaining members of the royal court and much of the aristocracy fled south of the Yangzi River to Jiankang, where the imperial line was restored by appointing a distant relative named Sima Rui 司馬睿 (276–323) as emperor. The Eastern Jin (317–420) court in Jiankang was militarily weak and so relied on elite northern émigré families to defend it against challenges from regional warlords located upriver (Graff 2002, pp. 81–82). Moreover, because many refugees from the north chose to enter monasteries or become dependents of great families in order to avoid taxation, the court lacked financial resources (Cromwell 1990, p. 175). The dynasty finally reached its end when the last Eastern Jin emperor was overthrown by the general Liu Yu 劉裕 (363–422), who went on to found the Liu Song 劉宋 dynasty (420–479). Fully intact Western Jin tombs are relatively rare owing to the destruction of the capitals at Luoyang and Chang’an, but several Eastern Jin family cemeteries have been uncovered in the Nanjing area in recent years. Although Eastern Jin tombs were smaller and contained considerably less-elaborate tomb furnishings than their Western Jin counterparts, Annette Kieser has shown that the rare and precious items contained in these smaller tombs— including a glass cup and a diamond ring—indicate that there was no diminution in the wealth or social and political stature of the great families at this time (Kieser 2001, pp. 253–254). Rather, Kieser argues, the northern émigrés who occupied the Eastern Jin tombs regarded them as temporary resting places until such time as they could be relocated to the homeland in the north—a wish that was never fulfilled (2011, pp. 58–59). The burial raiment uncovered in elite Jin tombs speaks to the instability of this historical period and to the Chinese court’s desire to both survive and adapt.
Clothing Textiles have not been well preserved in Jin burials, except at distant sites like Yingpan 营盘 and Niya 尼雅 in Xinjiang, far outside the locus of Jin power. However, inventory lists excavated from tombs attest to the use of linen and silk in weaves such as gauze, crepe, twill, and brocade (Dien 2007, pp. 322– 324). Indeed, this variety in materials and weaves is attested by a group of glazed ceramic water droppers and candleholders depicting a bearded foreigner in patterned clothing riding a lion. One example discovered in
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 179 a Western Jin tomb at Xiyanchi 洗硯池 in Linyi 臨沂 (Feng 2005, pp. 15, 21, Figure 49) wears a short jacket whose sleeves and edges are lined with a linked pearl motif that recalls Sogdian textiles, and his broad trousers are covered in crosses that might indicate brocade, or possibly a printed or embroidered design. These details do not appear in Jin wall paintings, though. Wei and Jin tombs at Jiayuguan 嘉峪關 and Foyemiaowan 佛爺廟灣 in Gansu also contain images of men, women, and children, but few wall paintings survive in the Central Plain (Hu & Zhang 2002). From this limited number of depictions, we may observe that clothing styles for men range from the broad-sleeved floor-length billowing robes of the Han dynasty to more fitted short jackets fastened by a cloth belt. Robes might include lapels, undergarments are sometimes visible beneath them, and long trousers taper at the ankle. Men’s hair is worn in a topknot or hidden by a cap, most commonly the pingshangze 平上幘, a cylindrical cap with a higher back and lower front. Men also wear helmets or tall peaked caps called longguan 籠冠 that extend down over their ears and necks (Dien 2007, p. 313). Women wear long robes secured by belts or occasionally loose-fitting trousers, and they are easily distinguished from men by their tall chignons and loops of hair, which are sometimes festooned with ribbons. The modes of dress seen in wall paintings are largely confirmed by tomb figurines, or yong 俑, which are found throughout Jin territory (Figure 10.1). Western Jin tombs typically contain single or paired female and male attendants, as well as male warriors. Women wear long robes tied with cloth belts, and men wear belted short jackets, loose trousers, and longguan. Unlike painted depictions, however, yong represent men’s jacket sleeves as fitted. Warriors wear armor that consists of a short garment bound at the waist and worn over loose trousers. They grimace menacingly and sometimes sport ribbed buns, helmets, or simple caps. In some cases, a painted or incised pattern simulating scale armor is visible. One hand normally holds an elongated shield with a raised central ridge, while the other is clenched, as though to hold a spear, although none survive. Eastern Jin female yong wear garments similar to those seen in Western Jin tombs, but their chignons are sometimes replaced by a broad winged hairstyle resembling a wimple. Male yong still often wear the pingshangze cap, but their trousers appear more voluminous, and their robes are sometimes bordered by wide lapels. In general, tomb figurines document a transition from the loose robes of the Han dynasty to the trousers and close-fitting sleeves worn by northern nomads—a development that corresponds to the introduction of horseback- riding to China around the same time. During the Sixteen Kingdoms period (304–439), several northern states were ruled by the Xianbei, and their interactions with the Jin court may have facilitated the Chinese adoption of horseback-riding, as well as riding clothes and horse tack, including saddles, stirrups, and bridles. Although horses were used to pull chariots at a much earlier date, the first clear evidence for horseback riding in China is the
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Figure 10.1 A warrior, a shield, a groom, a female attendant, a male attendant, a tomb guardian, and a bull from M34 at Xingyuan village, Yanshi, Henan, Wei (220–265) or Jin (265–316) dynasty. After Xu & Zhao 1985, p. 371, Figure 17.
presence of the stirrup. A gilt bronze stirrup was discovered in an early to mid-4th-century Xianbei tomb at Xiaomintun 孝民屯, Henan, and the stirrup was depicted even earlier on a yong representing an official on horseback uncovered at a tomb dating to 302 near Changsha 長沙, Hunan 湖南 (Dien 1986, pp. 33–34). Although closer- fitting clothing was adopted for practical purposes for warriors, attendants, and ordinary people, the emperors and courtiers pictured in the handscrolls of the famed Eastern Jin painter Gu Kaizhi 顧愷之 (344–405) continued to wear the voluminous wide-sleeved robes of the Han dynasty. The Han-style robe occupied a status similar to the Roman man’s toga and the woman’s stola, which all Roman citizens were required by law to wear on formal occasions in the Late Antique period, in spite of the introduction of new styles of tunics by the 3rd century. Roman men’s new tunics were narrower, belted, and had tighter-fitting sleeves, and women’s were unbelted, shorter, and might have short sleeves. Practically speaking, they were easier to move in and required less-costly material (Croom 2000, pp. 33, 76–82). Yet the toga and stola persisted in formal settings because, Jonathan Edmondson argues, each “was a potent agent of social control” that visually distinguished citizens from non-citizens and could be altered in small ways to signal military or political rank. To ensure that these visual cues were not abused, the Roman state even enacted at various times sumptuary laws aimed at curtailing the excessive and immoral
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 181 embellishment of the toga and stola with lavish dyes like Tyrian purple and fabrics like imported silk (Edmondson 2008, pp. 22, 32–33). In the Han dynasty, there was a similar fear that the lower classes might take advantage of opulent fashions to elevate their status. Following the ascent of the commoner Liu Bang to the imperial throne, the statesman Jia Yi 賈誼 (200–168 BCE) submitted a memorial to Emperor Wen 文 (r. 179–157 BCE) advocating sumptuary reforms of tallies, seals, hats, shoes, garments, sashes, and jade ornaments, among other items. Allison Miller has suggested that “by regulating luxury goods and dress, the Han administration … could shift from being an unstable, feeble monarchy to a legitimate government that was respected and supported by the population” (Miller 2016, pp. 104– 106). These reforms were initially adopted in the Western Han 西漢, and a formal dress code was enacted in 59 CE by Emperor Ming 明 (r. 58–75 CE) of the Eastern Han 東漢 dynasty (25–220 CE) as well; the latter is documented in a treatise called the Yufu zhi 輿服誌 (Record of Chariots and Clothing), which occupied the last two chapters of the Hou Han shu 後漢書 (Book of the Later Han) by Fan Ye 范曄 (398–445), as well as chapter 25 of the Jin Shu 晉書 (Book of the Jin), which was compiled in 648 by Fang Xuanling 房玄齡 (579–648). Regulations were not always followed, though. Edmondson observed that Roman dress codes, “encourage conformity, but at the same time often invite evasion,” (Edmondson 2008, p. 40) and in Jin China, we occasionally find intentional avoidance of prescribed dress used to political ends. The crumbling of the Confucian order at the end of the Han dynasty, and the empire’s subsequent descent into chaos, led many 3rd-century officials, including the so-called Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove (zhulin qixian 竹林七賢), to turn away from officialdom and instead pursue Daoist transcendence through activities like music, poetry, “pure conversation” (qingtan 清談), and the unrestrained imbibing of alcohol. The lore of the sages was well known in the Jin dynasty, and they appear with the earlier recluse-turned- immortal Rong Qiqi 榮啟期 on the impressed brick walls of two Southern Dynasties (420–589 CE) tombs in Nanjing (Figure 10.2) (Nanjing shi kaogu yanjiusuo 2015, pp. 33–48; Watt 2004 pp. 206–209). The sages are pictured disheveled and bearded, with their robes in disarray or even slipping off their shoulders, leaving their bare chests defiantly exposed. This violation of decorum, particularly in the context of a tomb, was a potent declaration of the tomb occupant’s rejection of the Confucian values encoded in traditional forms of court dress.
Belts In addition to specifications about articles of clothing, the various versions of the Yufu zhi list accessories appropriate for the attire of various civil and military officials, including accessories for belts (dai 帶). The Han version, for instance, mentions swords suspended from belts (daijian 帶劍), which were
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Figure 10.2 Stamped bricks depicting Xiang Xiu (228–281), one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove, from the tomb at Xishanqiao, near Nanjing, Jiangsu, Southern Dynasties (420–589), H. 88 cm x W. 240 cm. Nanjing Museum. Photograph by Sarah Laursen.
worn by members of several ranks (Fan 1965, pp. 3651–3652). Indeed, ring- headed swords and daggers ideal for suspension have been uncovered in Jin tombs—particularly in the north—and even appear on some tomb figurines, including the rider yong from Changsha mentioned earlier (Luoyang shi di’er wenwu gongzuo dui 2005, p. 49, Figure 18). Another common belt accessory that first appeared in the Zhou dynasty was the belt hook (daigou 帶鉤), which consists of an elongated body with a knob on one end that passes through the belt, and a curled head on the other end that hooks onto a loop, hole, or ring on the opposite end of the belt to secure it. Belt hooks made of precious metal or jade continued to be worn across China in the Jin dynasty, but they were less ornamented than their Han precursors. Belt hooks were eventually displaced by belt buckles with moveable tongues (daikou 帶扣), which by the Jin dynasty had also been introduced to China
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 183 from the north, where they were initially employed to secure horse gear rather than clothing (Dien 2007, p. 328). A Western Jin buckle and group of gilt bronze plaques in the Metropolitan Museum of Art illustrate what a complete set of belt accessories might have looked like (Figure 10.3). The thinner piece with a slot at the top on the upper right may have hung down from the belt, the slot accommodating the attachment of a knife or other accessory. One of the most impressive belt sets excavated in China belonged to the Western Jin official Liu Hong 劉弘, whose tomb in Hunan contained a gold dragon buckle with granulation and stone inlay, as well as delicately carved and incised jade girdle pendants (pei 佩) (Anxiang xian wenwu guanlisuo 1993, plate 1 and Figure 7). Elongated girdle pendants in gold, jade, and gilt bronze have come to light in other Western and Eastern Jin tombs as well, and some are decorated with incised designs of confronted phoenixes holding a bowtie-shaped sheng 勝 between their beaks (Sun 1983, plate 3.1– 3). Eastern Jin tombs in Jiangsu, Jiangxi, and Hunan province have yielded circular gold plaques with the same imagery, suggesting a similar usage, and one from Tomb 2 at Xianheguan 仙鶴關 still has a chain attached to the upper edge that might have been used to suspend it from a belt (Wang, Zhang, & Jia 2001, p. 34, Figure 109). Also found at Xianheguan and in other Eastern Jin tombs in Nanjing, as well as in Han tombs in Luoyang, are small whorl- shaped circular plaques with pierced abstract designs, granulation, and inlay
Figure 10.3 Set of ten gilt bronze belt plaques, China, Western Jin dynasty (265– 316), Metropolitan Museum of Art, Charlotte C. and John C. Weber Collection, Gift of Charlotte C. and John C. Weber, 1994.605.2a–k.
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184 Sarah Laursen that lack holes, indicating usage as girdle pendants (Luoyang qu kaogu fajue dui, p. 202, Figure 88.5 and plate 59.4 and .7). Rather than pendants, these circles may have decorated the pommels of swords, which when sheathed with the hilt end pointing upward would have been as visible as any ornament on the belt itself. Lending support to this hypothesis are three Eastern Zhou jade sword pommels featuring very similar incised decoration, which were published in a catalogue of archaic jades by the early twentieth-century art dealer C.T. Loo (C.T. Loo, Inc. 1950, plate LIX: 1, 2, 7). Additional complete sets of belt ornaments from the 4th-and 5th-century tombs of the Murong Xianbei in Liaoning differ in design from the fragmentary remains further south (Liaoning sheng wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo 2002, pp. 70–71). Moreover, although Jin paintings and sculpture document garments, they rarely depict belts with any degree of detail. That is why we must turn to the much later Yufu zhi of the Jiu Tang shu 舊唐書 (Old Book of the Tang), compiled by Liu Xu 劉昫 (888–947) and completed in 945, to gain a clearer picture of what the full belt ensemble comprised. This text relates that military officials (wuguan 武官) were mandated to wear belts with seven pendant elements: a suspended sword (peidao 佩刀), a dagger (daozi 刀子), a whetstone (lishi 礪石), a wedge used for carving (qibizhen 契苾真), a pick for untying knots (huijue 噦厥), a needle case (zhentong 針筒), and a flint bag (huoshidai 火石袋) (Liu 1979, p. 1953; Kim & Kim 1966, p. 180). This text also notes that prior to the Tang dynasty (618–907), a silver tiger tally (tufu 菟符) was included among the belt accessories as well, but in 619 CE it was replaced by a silver fish tally (yufu 魚符) (Liu 1979, pp. 1943–1944). The tally (fu 符) may refer to gold and stone animals with looped tails or holes through the belly that have been found in tombs at Guojiashan 郭家山 and Xianheguan in Nanjing (for example, Nanjing shi bowuguan 2001, pp. 34–35, Figure 109.9, 113; Nanjing shi bowuguan 1981, plate 1.5). The presence of girdle pendants and tallies also raises the possibility that other small items found close to the body or scattered throughout tombs by grave robbers might have once belonged to larger assemblages worn at the waists of Jin tomb occupants. Those assemblages may overlap with the description in the Yufu zhi of the Jiu Tang shu, but they also might share features with the belts of earlier periods or of contemporaneous cultures. In order to determine which items might have belonged to men’s belts, it is useful to take a look back at the long history of wearing utility belts with pendant tools in Eurasia—a custom that persisted over at least three thousand years, across Europe, Central Asia, Mongolia, China, Russia, Korea, and even Japan. One of the earliest known depictions of such a utility belt is a so-called “hero-stone” found in eastern Ukraine, which depicts a figure carrying hand axes or hatchets and a knife, as well as two other unidentified items on the back of the belt (Vassilkov 2011, pp. 196–197, Figure 1.4). Anthropomorphic stones like this one were placed on or near kurgans (mounded burials) on the
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 185 North-Pontic steppes and may be associated with the 4th-to 3rd-millennia BCE Pit Grave culture and the Proto-Indo-Europeans. Similarly, the Bronze Age “deer stones” of North, Central, and West Asia act as memorials to fallen warriors, even though they are not associated with burials. The earliest deer stones in Mongolia depict warriors with spiraling images of deer that may represent tattoos and belts decorated with hatching, zigzags or lozenges, from which hang “swords, daggers, knives, fire-starters, chariot rein hooks, quivers, and other objects” like shamans’ mirrors. The variations in the types of tools and arrangements of the deer tattoos have led William Fitzhugh (2009, p. 77) to suggest that, “deer stones probably are representations of real individuals whose warrior belts and weapons were known to their followers.” The belts depicted in stone had counterparts in leather, fabric, gold, bronze, and other materials. The burial of a man and a woman in Kurgan 5 at the 7th-century BCE site of Arzhan 2 in Southern Siberia contained a series of belt plaques as well as ring-headed knives and the remains of a quiver. The material of the belt itself had long since disintegrated, but reconstructions of the man’s belt suggest that straps hung down and terminated in ornamented rings that could have held the ring-headed knives and other items. The woman in this burial is also thought to have worn a belt with a suspended iron knife, as well as a miniature gold cauldron on a gold chain (Chugunov, Parzinger, & Nagler 2004, p. 18). Three woven belts and two cast silver plaques were uncovered from Barrow 2 at the 4th- to 3rd-century BCE site of Pazyryk, also in Southern Siberia. The area of the plaque beneath the caprid’s belly has been left open, allowing for the passage of a strap through it. In addition, two small silver horses with tails forming rings were also found, and one of them was attached to the end of a long, thin strap like the one seen in the Arzhan belt reconstruction (Rudenko 1970, pp. 98–102, plate 67). Northern cultures introduced this steppe-style utility belt to China by the Spring and Autumn Period (771–476 BCE). The earliest belts that retain their backing materials are two leather belts from Tomb 45 at the Zhoujiadi 周家地 cemetery in Inner Mongolia (Gu & Yang 1984, 424–425, plate 6). Suspended from the thinner of the two were a bronze knife, awl, and needle (Sun 2001, pp. 253–292). These Zhou dynasty belts gave rise in the Han dynasty to the kua 銙 belt and later the diexie 蹀躞 belt. Kua belts were lined with plaques at variable distances, with rings or ornaments suspended from their lower edge, allowing the wearer to attach objects like knives and tallies, perhaps using fabric or leather. The diexie is similar in concept, except that strips of leather hung from the belt instead of rings, and some of these had attached accessories like leather pouches (Sun 2001, pp. 269–270). The usage of kua belts by the Eastern Han dynasty is confirmed by a kua plaque with an inverted mushroom-shaped ring from Tomb 43 in Ding 定 County, Hebei (Dingxian bowuguan 1973, p. 10, Figure 2.4). Gold-wrapped iron belt plaques with suspended elements uncovered at Taoheqi 討合氣 village
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186 Sarah Laursen in Inner Mongolia may also be a variant of the kua belt, or perhaps a very early diexie belt (Zhang 1995, pp. 70–71, Figure 45). The belts contained in Jin tombs most likely took one of these two forms. By looking at belts from across the steppe, we might begin to recognize more items in Jin tombs as belt accessories. For example, although bottles are not specifically mentioned in the Yufu zhi, small bottles decorated with granulation and applied wires were recovered from Tomb 3 at Guojiashan and Tomb 2 at Xianheguan, and a small covered silver cauldron with a ring on the lid was found at Tomb 6 at Xianheguan (Nanjing shi bowuguan 2001, pp. 17, 19, 34–35, Figures 43, 60, 109.1, 112; Nanjing shi bowuguan 1981, plate 1.6). Small Chinese gold bottles with comparable decoration also appear in Western collections, including the former Carl Kempe collection in Stockholm and the Nelson-Atkins Museum in Kansas City, Missouri. When considered alongside the gold and glass perfume bottles suspended from belts found in 5th-and 6th-century royal tombs of Korea’s Silla Kingdom (ca. 300–668), as well as a small gold cauldron attached by a chain to the belt of the woman buried in Kurgan 5 at Arzhan 2, it seems natural to conclude that Jin bottles were also belt accessories (Yi & Lee 2010, pp. 88, 95; Chugunov, Parzinger, & Nagler 2004, p. 18). It is uncertain how these items were attached to the belt, but it is possible that they used leather or fabric straps attached to uniformly sized rings, like the series of rings found in Tomb 2 at Xiyanchi in Linyi (Feng 2005, p. 22, Figure 69). Assuming that many of these previously uncategorized items did belong to belts, why were belts featured so prominently in Jin dynasty burial dress, particularly when they are infrequently pictured in other media during the same period? Why did these utility belts, which had served a practical function for steppe nomads, come to be such an important marker of identity in the tombs of sedentary aristocrats? A recent study of the Roman military belt by Stefanie Hoss may offer some insights. The balteus, as it was called, was a leather belt secured with a buckle and decorated with plaques and an “apron” that consisted of pendant straps attached inside the front of the belt (Hoss 2017, p. 94). The professionalization of the Roman army in 2nd century BCE created a distinct soldier class, and because only soldiers could wear arms on a daily basis, the wearing of the belt affirmed their group identity (Hoss 2017, p. 101). The sword was the Roman soldier’s primary weapon, imbuing the belt with its power. The shininess of the metal and the jangle of weapons visually and aurally announced the presence of soldiers from some distance away. Over time, the Roman military belt took on so much heavy decoration that its social function superseded its practical use, and donning or removing the belt remained a useful way for officers with both civil and military appointments to alternate between their roles (Hoss 2107, pp. 101–103). Belts continued to be worn as insignia by military and civil officials in the Late Antique period, and Parani notes, “No official dared to appear in front of the emperor without his chlamys [cloak] and his belt” (Parani 2007, p. 504).
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 187 In China, in contrast, most fighting was carried out at a distance using intermediate-range weapons like the dagger-axe and short spear, so the swords and ring-headed daggers worn by soldiers were only used as a last resort (Sawyer 2011, p. 273). However, the belt still gained much of its symbolic power from the weapons associated with it. In his discussion of named swords of the late Han and early Three Kingdoms (220–265) period, Robert Joe Cutter identifies sabers (dao 刀) and swords (jian 劍) as “pre-imperial regalia,” along with silk cords (zushou 組綬), jade belt pendants (pei), and seals (xi 璽) (Cutter 2012, pp. 536–527). All these items suspended from the waists of rulers and high-ranking officials would have been an impressive sight, and the clinking of gold seals, metal weapons, and jade ornaments—possibly in combination with the tinkling of bells, which were also excavated from many Jin tombs—would have added to the overall effect (for example, Zheng 1965, p. 22, Figure 8). At court, belts would have easily distinguished between ranks in the civil and military bureaucracy in much the same way that mandarin squares and details of robe ornamentation did in later dynasties.1
Jewelry and head ornaments Aside from robes and belts, official court dress in the Han and Jin dynasties included caps and other headgear. According to the Yufu zhu of the Hou Han shu, a gold ornament called a dang 璫, which I have described in depth in an earlier article, adorned the front of the military cap (wu guan 武冠) and took the form of a cicada (Laursen & Strahan 2014). More than thirty examples—both excavated and in overseas museum collections—are known. Gold triangles projecting off the sides of the gold foil plaques affixed them to a backing plate that is usually made from copper, gold, bronze or, in rare cases, mica. The popularity of ornamenting the deceased with this design may relate to the much-earlier practice of placing jade cicadas in the mouths of the dead as a symbol of rebirth, but the cicada was not the only image found on the gold dang. The Western Jin tomb of Liu Bao 劉寶 in Zoucheng 鄒城, Shandong, for instance, contained a square plaque with a snarling animal face and two immortals riding dragons (Hu 2005, p. 20, Figure 54.9–10). The Yufu zhi description of the dang at the front of the cap is corroborated by illustrations of seven emperors on the Thirteen Emperors Scroll (Lidai diwang tu 歷代帝王圖), a handscroll attributed to Tang dynasty painter Yan Liben 閻立本 (about 600–673), in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and by four plaques discovered near long, gold strips with fragments of lacquered leather on the back in a richly furnished tomb at Nanjing University that Wu Guibing 吳桂兵 believes to be the tomb of Eastern Jin Emperor Cheng 成 and Empress Gongdu 恭杜 (Figure 10.4) (Wu 2003, pp. 40–42; Jiang 1973, p. 43). While dang appear to have been reserved for men, jewelry is found in both male and female burials. Among the simplest items are gold, silver,
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Figure 10.4 Nanjing University Tomb (tomb of Jin Chengdi and Empress Gongdu?), Gulou Hill, Nanjing, Jiangsu, Eastern Jin dynasty (317– 420). After Jiang 1973, plate 5.
and bronze bracelets, which already by the Wu dynasty occurred in sets of up to ten (Figure 10.5) (Ding & Xiong, 1982, pp. 65–66). Although the rings are occasionally decorated with small impressed lines to make them appear beaded, most are plain and of uniform size, suggesting that they could have adorned belts rather than fingers. On the other hand, the diamond ring in the tomb of Wang Yi 王廙 at Xianheguan in Nanjing definitely was intended as a finger ring, and the rarity of its stone speaks not only to the Wang family’s high aristocratic status but also to the access they had to Silk Road trade when they resided in their homeland of Langye 郎耶, Shandong (Keiser 2011, p. 57; Yuan 1972, p. 31, plate 5.2). Wider rings with impressed dots bordered by raised bands—which actually functioned as thimbles—are associated with women’s burials (Wang, Zhang, & Jia 2001, p. 17, Figure 48). Pendant earrings are more or less absent, but ear plugs in glass and stone, also called dang 璫, have been uncovered. These plugs were not intended for daily use—or for ornamentation per se—but rather for preventing the soul from escaping the body. The custom of placing small jades, beads, or fragments in the mouth began in the late Neolithic period and, by the Han dynasty, plugs were inserted into all of the bodily orifices to prevent fluids from seeping out of the body as it decayed. The Daoist Ge Hong 葛洪
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Figure 10.5 Gold and silver ornaments including bracelets, rings, leaves, and hairpins, M105 at Echeng, Hubei, Wu kingdom (222–280). After Ding & Xiong 1982. p. 266, Figure 12, bottom left.
(284–364), known for his writings on alchemy and techniques for achieving longevity, claimed in his Baopuzi 抱朴子 that, “When gold and jade are inserted into the nine orifices, corpses do not decay” (Erickson 2012, p. 30). Gold earplugs have been found at pre-Jin sites, and red agate pairs were found in a cemetery in Hangzhou (Hangzhou wenwu kaogu yanjiusuo & Yuhang bowuguan 2013). Necklaces are rare, aside from a remarkable Western Jin gold chain excavated in the eastern suburbs of Luoyang, whose uniqueness suggests that it might be an import (Zhongguo banben tushuguan 2004, Figure 237). It is possible that high necklines in this period did not accommodate necklaces, but the discovery of a string of 30 beads and 44 additional unstrung beads in an Eastern Jin tomb in Nanjing suggests instead that necklaces do not survive because their constituent parts scattered when the
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190 Sarah Laursen organic materials that held them together decomposed (Yue & Zhang 2008, p. 21, Figure 31.9). Individual beads and small groups of gold, bone, glass, amber, agate, rock crystal, jade, and other stones also occur in Jin tombs. Some of these items may have belonged to pendant sets of ornamental jades that hung from the waist and came into use in the beginning of the Zhou dynasty. By the Jin dynasty, they typically consisted of horizontal straight or lunette-shaped heng 珩, vertical arc-shaped or penannular huang 璜, and beads (zhu 珠) (Dien 2007, pp. 273–274). In at least two tombs, small pieces of mica with pierced edges mimicked the shape and perhaps the function of the jade heng (Feng 2005, p. 34, Figure 96; Nanjing shi bowuguan 2001, pp. 20–21, Figure 70.2–3). Wang Zhigao 王志高, Zhou Yuxing 周裕興, and Hua Guorong 華國榮 have posited reconstructions of pendant sets in Tombs 2 and 6 at Xianheguan (2001, Figures 1, 2). The uniformity and symmetry of the jade pendant sets enable this type of reconstruction, but the variability of women’s hairpins, ornaments, and hairstyles poses a major challenge to the reconstruction of women’s headgear. Three types of hair ornaments have been uncovered in Jin tombs: long hairpins resembling stickpins that are called zan 簪, U-or V-shaped hairpins called chai 釵, and three-pronged hairpins, also called chai. Hairpins are made from bronze, silver, or gold, although zan may also be fashioned from other materials like bone, harkening back to the ji 笄 hairpins of earlier periods. In addition to the simple U-shaped chai, some examples are bent at the top to form a W-shape. Three-pronged chai are typically made from bronze, which unlike silver and gold can withstand the pressure of wrapped hair. An Eastern Jin or Southern Dynasties tomb near Machang 馬場, Guizhou contained a group of assorted hairpins near the head of the deceased, indicating that different types were used together to create the elaborate hairstyles of the Jin (Guizhou sheng bowuguan kaogu zu 1973, p. 351, Figure 15). Zan may also have been affixed with other small ornaments, such as the six-petaled gold flowers with stone inlay, granulation, and pierced centers that have been uncovered at Guojiashan and Xianheguan in Nanjing (Wang, Zhang, & Jia 2001, p. 17, Figure 53; Nanjing shi bowuguan 1981, p. 4, plate 1.4). A sense of how a woman’s headgear might have looked in life can be gleaned from The Admonitions of the Instructress to the Court Ladies (Nüshi zhen tu 女史箴圖), a handscroll attributed to Gu Kaizhi (ca. 344– 406) (Figure 10.6), which now resides in the British Museum.2 In one scene, a woman sits before a mirror while a second woman stands behind her, gathering her long hair into a topknot. In addition to the chai that were invisible because they were buried deep in the hair, the women throughout the scroll wear pairs of zan decorated with abbreviated bird-like forms sitting atop delicate red branches that grow out of blossoming flowers. These ornaments also recall descriptions in the Yufu zhi of the Hou Han shu and the Jin shu of ornaments called buyao 步搖 (“step-sway”), which were worn by empresses when they dressed to visit the ancestral shrine:
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Figure 10.6 Gu Kaizhi (c. 344/ 5– 406), The Admonitions of the Instructress to the Court Ladies, silk handscroll, late Tang dynasty (618–907) copy of an Eastern Jin (317– 420) original, British Museum, London, 1903,0408,0.1.
[They wore] fake chignons, buyao, hairpins, and ear ornaments. Their buyao used gold for the peaked frontal piece, and pearls were strung on the intertwining cassia branches. [They wore] a sparrow and nine flowers, and the six beasts: the bear, tiger, red bear, heavenly deer, bixie, and the grand cow from Nanshan. (Fan 1973, pp. 3676–3677) The thin wire branches bounced slightly as the wearer walked, causing any beads or ornaments on them to tremble and catch the light. The hairpins worn by the court ladies pictured in the Admonitions scroll appear to be variants—perhaps lower-ranking ones—of the buyao worn by empresses. Although only the branches, birds, and flowers are visible in this painting, small stone and amber animals with holes through their centers are found
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192 Sarah Laursen in many Jin tombs, both in the north and the south. The late Western Jin or early Eastern Jin tomb in Linyi, Shandong, contained six stone animal beads—three made from jet and three from amber—as well as one heavily worn gold animal head bead (Feng 2005, pp. 22, 24, Figures 63, 75). Animal-shaped beads seem to have been especially prevalent in Nanjing. The tomb of Wang Danhu 王丹虎 (d. 359) at Xiangshan 象山 contained two tiger-shaped amber beads and two turquoise beads in the shape of pigs or lions; the tomb of Wen Qiao 溫嶠 (d. after 329) at Guojiashan contained an amber bixie 避邪 (a mythical hybrid animal that dispels evil) and a delicately rendered gold sheep that would have once held inlaid stones; and Tomb 6 at Xianheguan contained three turquoise animals, one amber animal, and a gold sheep (Hua & Zhang 2002, p. 27, Figure 15; Wang, Zhang, & Jia 2001, pp. 17, 20, Figures 43, 65; Nanjing shi wenwu baoguan weiyuanhui 1965, pp. 32, 44, Figure 29). Also noteworthy is the mention of pearls, which are found in several Jin tombs, often together with sheet gold discs and leaves. The pairing of pearls and fluttering gold leaves in headgear has a long history across North, Central, and West Asia that precedes the Jin dynasty by a few centuries. Headdresses with pearls and gold discs are found in Tomb 4 at the 1st- century cemetery at Tillya Tepe in Afghanistan and in Kurgan 10 at the 1st– to 2nd-century Kobiakovo cemetery in western Russia (Cambon & Hiebert 2008, pp. 284–285; Daoulas 1995, p. 59). Sheet gold leaves and discs are also widespread in the 4th-and 5th-century tombs of the Murong Xianbei in Liaoning province. These may have belonged to the buyao ornaments that the Murong Hui zaiji 慕容廆載記 (Chronicles of Murong Hui) of the Jin shu claims Murong leader Mohuba 莫护跋 copied from the Chinese and introduced to his people (Fang 1997, p. 2803). Whether the Chinese introduced the buyao to the Murong or vice versa (which seems more likely), the resemblance between their head ornaments suggests a close relationship between the craftsmen of the Jin and their neighbors to the north. Another important type of hair ornament seen in Jin tombs is the sheng 勝. The Queen Mother of the West is depicted as wearing the sheng in Han dynasty wall paintings and reliefs, and its form mimics the reels that held warp threads in place on looms, emphasizing her connection to sericulture and textile production. This mythological association may explain why the Yufu zhi of the Hou Han shu records that the sheng was to be worn by the Grand Empress Dowager and Empress Dowager when they visited the temple. This bowtie shape was worn by men, too, and can be observed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art belt mentioned above (Figure 10.3). Miniature gold sheng measuring 1–2 centimeters in height have been uncovered in Eastern Jin tombs, and the holes through their centers suggest that they were worn as beads or attached to hairpins (Yue & Zhang 2008, p. 21, Figure 31.2–3, plates 3.5, 3.7). The sheng shape has also been incorporated into a radiating pattern found along the outer edge of circular gold openwork plaques from a Western Jin tomb at Dasima 大司馬, Henan, and one
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 193 from Tomb 1 at Guojiashan in Nanjing (Henan sheng wenwu ju nanshui beizhou weuwbaohu bangongshi & Sichuan daxue kaogu xi 2009, p. 19, Figures 8, 9; Nanjing shi bowuguan 1981, p. 4, plate 1.7). This definitively Chinese motif may have represented to Eastern Jin wearers a connection with China’s mythic and imperial past. However, unlike men’s robes, belts and cap ornaments, women’s jewelry and headgear appear to have been very individualized and less strictly controlled by the court. They were also central to the literary construction of women’s identities, as we can observe in an excerpt from a poem by Fu Xuan 傅玄 (217–278) entitled There Is a Girl 有女: On her head is set a gold [buyao],3 From her ears hang bright moon orbs.4 Pearl bangles clasp white wrists Kingfisher bird pins cascade pure gleams. Her patterned coat is broidered with reed and axe, Her jade body shimmers under a blouse of silk. (Birrell 1982, p. 75) In this context, women’s jewelry and head ornaments cannot be regarded merely as indicators of official rank. They instead belong to a more personal realm and become extensions of her physical body. This woman’s wrists are described as plain (su 素), an adjective commonly used to describe undyed fabric, and the last line equates her body with jade. The choice of materials is significant as well, as the purity of jade is often used as a metaphor for moral character. However, the author’s ability to see her body beneath her silk blouse may imply the opposite. How then should we understand they ways in which noblewomen of the Jin dynasty adorned themselves? Who was their audience, and what messages were they trying to impart? Here again it is valuable to consult studies of dress and adornment outside the Chinese realm. Kelly Olson’s study of Roman women’s fashion suggests a variety reasons why women might choose to adorn themselves. To begin with, she argues, “jewelry could visualize wealth, social standing, and personal influence, thereby ensuring deference” (Olson 2008, pp. 96–98). The Yufu zhi’s instructions for empresses’ and princesses’ attire confirm that women were expected to present themselves in a way that accorded with their position at court, particularly in relation to the official posts held by their husbands or other family members. As for a woman’s own position, Olson (2008, p. 96) also notes that in societies in which women were not permitted to own land or participate in government, jewelry was one of her few avenues for investment. By wearing her fortune on her body, she embodied both her family’s social status and her own. Adornment—and beautification in general—also afforded women what Olson refers to as “erotic power” (2008, p. 96). In the painting and sculpture of the Han dynasty and early Six Dynasties period (220–589), women had
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194 Sarah Laursen been depicted in simple garb with no jewelry, in keeping with Confucian ideas about female modesty. These attitudes were also reflected in writings, such as the Lienü zhuan 列女傳 (Biographies of Exemplary Women) by Liu Xiang 劉向 (77–6 BCE) and Nüshi zhen 女史箴 (Admonitions of the Instructress) by Zhang Hua 張華 (232–300), the subject of Gu Kaizhi’s famous painting. Jin dynasty literature, in contrast, signals a changing conception of women’s virtues. A poem by the Wei dynasty prince Cao Zhi曹植 (192–232), Luo shen fu 洛神父 (Ode to the Nymph of the Luo River), describes the ethereal apparel of a river goddess who has captured his heart: She drapes herself in the shimmering glitter of a gossamer gown, Wears in her ears ornate gems of carnelian and jade, She bedecks her head with ornaments of gold and kingfisher feathers, and adorns herself with shining pearls that illuminate her body. (Xiao 1996, pp. 371–372) The descriptions of her “gossamer gown” and “shining pearls that illuminate her body” suggest a new taste for more transparent fabrics. The poem also showcases a new post-Han and post-Confucian ideal woman— scantily clad and dripping with jewels—who basks in the gaze of a powerful man but ultimately eludes him. Wu Hung 巫鴻 has characterized this shift in visual and literary female representations as the transition from, “women as political and moral symbols to women as objects of visual appreciation and sexual desire” (Wu 1996, p. 95). Women’s emergence as sexual beings in this period was significant because it opened the door for women of later periods to occasionally assert erotic power over men. In the Tang dynasty, for example, the feminine charms of Emperor Xuanzong’s 玄宗 consort, Yang Guifei 楊貴妃 (719–756), were even credited with bringing down the empire. Women’s audiences were not only male, though. Olson remarks that, “women adorned to please themselves, too, and were both spectacle and spectator” (Olson 2008, p. 112). Glimpses of women observing other women and themselves in the absence of men are provided by the private coiffing scene from the Admonitions scroll. Although loosely based on Zhang Hua’s Han dynasty text about women’s comportment, what this image actually represents is the social atmosphere of Gu Kaizhi’s time, in which self-beautification rituals created female spaces that were insulated from men. The court ladies in this scene look admiringly at each other and at their own reflections. Jin dynasty women were not passive vessels for fashion—as Olson observes, “clothing is an intimate record of human experience, and adornment a field of intentional human activity and feminine agency” (2008, p. 113). If women took care in selecting jewelry and hair ornaments as their most valuable possessions, and were buried wearing them, then we must regard the ornaments uncovered in Jin tombs as deliberate manifestations of their own self-image and desires.
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Conclusion Conventional wisdom tells us that the elite Chinese occupants of Jin dynasty tombs were dressed for burial in a manner that expressed their social and official status, ensured the safe departure of their souls, and supplied provisions for the afterlife, including the most expensive and fashionable clothing and accessories available. Men’s dang and women’s sheng presented the deceased as not only high-ranking members of the court but also as the inheritors of Chinese traditions reaching back to the Han dynasty and earlier. However, by exploring some of the scholarship regarding dress and ornament outside the Middle Kingdom, we are able to see clearly that this established narrative omits three important historical developments in this turbulent period. First, increased contact with non-Chinese groups, particularly horse-riding cultures in the north, fundamentally transformed Chinese fashion—both in the transition to more fitted clothing and in the adoption of the nomad’s belt as an important visual symbol. Second, the rise of new philosophical perspectives and religions led, in some cases, to the rejection of costuming mores associated with China’s illustrious past. Finally, changing perceptions of women’s place in society made jewelry and ornamentation more important than ever before.
Notes 1 In 2015, Tombs 2 and 3 of a group of four conjoined Eastern Jin tombs in Nanjing yielded several circular girdle pendants and a gold bottle with inlaid stones and granulation. These tombs are believed to belong to women, raising the question of whether they—like the queens of Korea’s Silla Kingdom (see Nelson, this volume)— were permitted to wear belts as symbols of status or authority (Zhang 2015). 2 There has been some debate over the date and attribution of this scroll, but Chen Pao-chen argues that the original was painted sometime after 375 or 396 and that the copy was made in the late Tang dynasty (Chen 2003, pp. 131–136). 3 Birrell translates buyao as a tiara, but it is not, as is explained above. 4 The term dang 璫 may refer to pendant earrings, which have not been discussed here because none have been excavated from Jin tombs.
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Dressing the dead in Jin China 199 Zhang, J 2005, Zhongguo beifang caoyuan gudai jinyinqi 中國北方草原古代金銀器, Wenwu chubanshe, Beijing. Zheng, R 1965, ‘Beijing xijiao xi Jin Wang Jun qi Hua Fang mu qingli jianbao 北京西郊西晉王濬妻華芳墓清理簡報 (Brief report on the Western Jin tomb of Wang Jun’s wife Hua Fang in the western suburbs of Beijing),’ Wenwu, no. 12, pp. 21–26. Zhongguo banben tushuguan 2004, Zhongguo jinyin boli falang qi quanji: jinyin qi 中國金銀玻璃琺瑯器全集:金銀器 (Chinese gold, silver, glass, and enamel collected objects: gold and silver objects), Hebei meshu chubanshe, Shijiazhuang.
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Index
Note: Page references in italics refer to figures. Page references in bold refer to tables. altar cemetery 144–146, 145, 151, 155 Amu Darya River 2, 7, 101, 102, 102, 103, 110, 111 arm bands, guards, or ornamentation 9: jade 150, 153, 157; forearm protectors (kote 籠手) 129–130 armor 121, 122, 127, 179 Aruktau 102, 102, 105, 108, 110, 113n12, 114n15, 114n16, 115n28 Arzhan 185, 186 atlatl 148, 151 Bactria 67, 101, 109, 111 beads: agate 56, 81, 190; amber 190, 191–192; animal teeth/tusks 20, 23; barium glass 60, 81, 83, 90; bone 27, 29, 30, 33, 53; carnelian 53, 54, 55; from China 60, 77, 90; clay 129, 132; gogok 58, 59, 59, 60, 62, 63, 65, 66, 68; green tuff 77, 81; Indo-Pacific drawn monochrome beads (IPB)/ other beads from Indonesia 60, 66, 81, 82–83, 84, 85, 88, 90; jade 77, 90, 92, 95, 132, 136n11, 144, 150, 152–153, 154, 155–156, 157; jasper 53, 77, 90, 95; jet 192; magatma勾 玉 7, 59, 77, 81, 90–92, 91, 132, 133; marudama 丸玉 129, 132; potash 81–82, 85; pyrite 108, 109; shell 23, 24, 25, 26, 35n3; stone 24, 25, 41, 42, 53, 55, 56, 58, 59, 60, 77, 105, 136n7, 192; turquoise 53, 54 192 bells 45, 48, 53, 53, 55, 59–60, 68, 105, 114n15, 127, 129, 130, 187 belt plaques: 51, 104, 110–111, 113n11, 185–186; bone 103; bronze 5, 41, 42, 103, 104; gilt bronze 183; horn 103; iron 107n7, 179
belts 5, 9, 41–42, 153, 157, 163, 177, 179, 181–187, 188, 192, 193, 195, 195n1: daijian 帶劍 (swords suspended from ) 181–182; daigou 帶鉤 (belt hooks) 182; diexie 蹀 躞 (belt with leather strips) 185–186; gold 58, 61, 63, 65, 65, 67–68; haniwa 125, 129, 132; kua 銙 185–186; see also buckle-plaques bi 璧 144, 146, 150, 151, 154–155, 156 Bishkent 102, 105, 108, 113n8, 115n22 body modification 12, 20, 34, 111–112 boots 9, 125, 129, 153, 157 bracelets 9, 61: brass 105, 107; bronze 187–188; glass 88; gold 58, 65, 68, 187–188, 189; haniwa 129–130, 132, 133; iron 107; jade 95, 150, 153, 156, 157; jasper 96; shell 19, 22, 23, 24, 25; silver 187–188, 189 buckle, for belts: bronze 43, 43, 48, 49, 52, 53, 54, 55, 60; daikou 帶扣 182–183; gilt bronze 183, 183; gold 183; iron 42, 43, 48, 49, 50, 52, 53, 55, 56, 103, 104; jade 150, 153, 157; jet 53 buckle, for boots: 103, 104, 113n10 buckle-plaques: bronze 48, 49, 50, 51, 54, 55; schist 53 buttons: bronze 41–42, 43, 43, 52, 53, 55 Changsha 長沙 168, 180, 182 Chuci 楚辞 (Songs of Chu) 148 Chulmun (8000–1500 BCE) 22–23 cist burial 60, 124 clothing 1, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 23, 41, 60, 68–69, 141, 146, 153, 157: Han
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Index 201 dynasty 163–164; haniwa 119, 121, 125, 129, 130, 135; jacket 179; Jin dynasty 176–177, 178–181; trousers 125, 129, 132, 168, 170, 179; tunics 125, 127, 129, 131, 132, 133, 180 Confucian 69, 149, 176, 177, 181, 193–194 cong 琮 144, 146, 150, 151, 153, 154–155, 156, 157 cosmetics 163–164 cosmic eye 146–147, 147, 151 cosmological symbol 148–149, 148, 151, 154, 157 dress: dress theory 2–4, 6–7, 9, 11, 163; as performance 11–12, 163 earrings and ear ornaments 1, 7–8, 9, 191, 193; clay 19, 24; dang 璫 188, 195n4; ear plugs 12; ear spools 24; gilt bronze 96; glass, 88, 89; gold 61, 65, 68, 123, 195; haniwa 132–133; jade 22; made of composite materials 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 114n20, 115n23, 194; stone 5, 19, 20, 22, 24, 25, 26, 30–32, 31, 35n7, 36n9 Fanshan 反山 144, 146, 153, 154, 155, 156, 158 Ge Hong 葛洪 188–189 gender: bias 5–6, 21, 35–36n8; differentiation 4, 20, 23, 25, 33, 146, 156–157, 163–164; gendered interpretations 21, 32, 35n7, 67–68; identities 3–6, 63–64, 110–111; rank and 68–69; roles 30, 33 Gold Road 6, 66–67 Greco-Bactrian Kingdom 7–8, 101–102, 110–112, 112n2, 115n31 Gu Kaizhi 顧愷之 180, 190, 191, 194 Gunma Prefecture 119, 120, 122, 123, 134 Guojiashan 郭家山 184, 186, 190, 192, 193 hairstyles and hair ornaments 1, 9, 10, 25; buyao 步搖 66, 190–193, 195n3; chai 釵 (hairpin) 190; chignon/ hair buns 163, 179, 191; combs 24, 150, 152, 155; feathers 162, 163, 169–170, 194; gold 189; hairpin 24, 164, 189, 190–191, 192; Han dynasty 163, 168–170; haniwa 145,
129, 130, 133; jade 144, 146, 129; ji 笄 (hairpin) 190; pinning ceremony (China) 163–164; ribbons 179; sagemizura 下げ実豆良 125, 129; shimada mage 島田髷 130; sidelocks 169; stickpins 150, 152, 156, 157, 190; topknot 179, 190; zan 簪 (stickpin) 190 haniwa: chieftain 124, 124, 129–130; grooms 119, 121, 124, 124, 125, 127; horse 8, 119, 121, 122, 124, 124, 125–128, 128; shaman 124, 130–133, 131; warriors 129–130 headgear: caps 65, 68, 127, 156, 163–164, 168, 169–170, 172, 179, 187; capping ceremony (China) 163–164, 173n3; crowns 6, 58, 61, 61–66, 64, 65–66, 67–68, 96, 123, 129, 136n11, 150, 152, 156, 157; dang 璫 (ornament for military cap) 189, 195; diadem 105, 107; with feathers 9, 146, 152, 156, 157, 169, 170–171; Han dynasty 163–164, 170–171; he guan 鶡冠 (Han military cap) 170–171; headband 88, 152, 157; longguan 籠冠 (tall peaked caps) 179; pingshangze 平上幘 (cylindrical cap with higher back and lower front) 179; sheng 勝 (vertical bow-tie shape) 183, 192–193, 195; ze 帻 (Chinese type of male headgear) 168 Helinge’er 和林格尔 166, 172 Hemudu 河姆渡 period (5500–3300 BCE) 148, 149, 151, 152 heng 珩 (lunette-shaped jade) 190 Hongshan 红山 (4700–2900 BCE) 141, 146, 153, 155 horse tack 8, 122, 127, 128, 128, 134, 135, 179; bridles 127, 179; psalia (cheek pieces) 127–128; reins 124, 128; saddle bows 66; saddles 68, 127, 128, 179; shabraques (saddle cloth) 127; stirrups 61, 71n2, 127, 128, 179–180 Hou Han shu 後漢書 (Book of the Later Han) 181, 187, 190, 192 huang 璜 150, 153, 156, 157, 190 Ittifoq (Ittifok) 108–109, 115n21 Jade Age 9, 141, 156 Jiankang 健康 177, 178 Jin shu 晉書 (Book of the Jin) 181, 190, 192
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202 Index kaizuka 貝塚 (shell middens) 19–20 Kaya 71n1, 134 Kenu 133–134 Kinki 7, 73, 74, 75, 82, 84, 89–90 kofun: keyhole-shaped tombs (zenpō kōenfun 前方後円墳) 77, 81, 88, 95, 96, 122, 123; Nyotaisan Kofun 122; scallop-shaped tombs (hotategai shiki 帆立貝式) 122, 124; Tenjinyama Kofun 122, 134; Watanuki Kannonyama 綿貫観音山 134 Kofun period (ca. 250–645 CE) 77–71, 85, 88, 95–96, 122, 126, 131, 132, 135, 136n7 Koguryo 64, 71n1, 121, 127, 129, 132, 134 Kushan Empire 8, 101, 102, 110 Late Antique period (4th–mid 7th c. CE) 10–11, 176–177, 180–181, 186 Liji 禮記 (Book of Ritual) 163, 173n3 Linyi 臨沂 179, 186, 192 Loufan 樓煩 51 Luoyang 洛陽 162, 163, 164, 171, 172, 177, 183 Manchuria 59, 66, 67, 68, 79, 129 Mawangdui 馬王堆 164, 165 metamorphic icon/imagery 147–149, 152, 154 mirrors 114n16, 185, 190, 191; bronze 59–60, 77, 88, 89, 96, 107; haniwa with 124, 130, 170; sankakubuchi shinjukyo 三角縁神獣鏡 88 Mojiaoshan 莫角山 9, 141, 143–144, 154 mortuary ritual 8, 23, 34, 88, 96, 119, 121–124, 125, 129–133, 135n1, 135n3, 164, 173n6 Murong 慕容 66, 67, 177, 184, 192 Nara 81, 95, 122, 123, 123 necklaces 1, 61, 123, 189–189; animal bone 27, 29, 30, 33; animal tooth or tusk 23, 36; “chestlace” 61; glass 88, 89, 95; gold 58, 189; haniwa 129, 132, 133; jade 150, 152–153, 155, 156, 157; made of composite materials 49, 59; 60, 61, 65 Nihon shoki 日本書紀 (Chronicles of Japan) 122, 132, 133, 134 Northern Wei 北魏 period (386–534) 67, 125
Ordos 10, 41, 161, 164, 165–166, 169, 170 Ordos Style 5, 41, 42, 50–51 Osaka 30, 122, 123, 129 osteological analysis 4, 24, 36 Oxus River 2, 7, 101, 110, 112 Paekche 71n1, 122, 127, 134 Pazyryk 136n5, 185 pearls 105, 108, 109, 114n20, 115n23, 179, 191, 192, 193, 194 pendants 1, 23, 44, 54; amber 19, 23; animal tooth 20, 23, 24, 25, 26, 26, 27, 28, 28, 29, 30, 32; antler 20, 23, 26, 26, 27, 32; bear teeth 19, 24, 26, 26, 28, 30, 32; boar tusks 19, 24, 32; bone 24, 32; carnelian 49; chalcedony 53; chestlaces 57; gilt bronze; girdle/belt pendants; 183–184, 186–187, 195n1; glass 107; gold 105; jade 19, 23, 150, 153, 156, 190; shell 26, 27; stone 5, 23, 25, 42, 44, 52, 53, 105; turquoise 49 prestige goods 7, 8, 88, 96, 123, 134 qi 氣 (life force) 148–149 Qiang 羌 161, 169 rites of passage 12, 22, 30, 32, 36n9, 163–164, 173n5 Roman Empire 10–11, 102, 111–112, 176–177, 180–181, 186, 193 Samguk sagi 三國史記 (History of the Three Kingdoms) 60, 63, 69, 70, 122 Samguk yusa 三國遺事 (Memorabilia of the Three Kingdoms) 59, 69, 70 satellite burials 5, 42, 50–51, 122 shamans/shamanism 66, 130, 131, 131, 136n5, 148–149, 185 Shiji 世紀 (Records of the Grand Historian) 51, 163, 173n4, 173n7 shoes and shoe ornaments 62, 63, 66, 71n2, 123, 150, 181 sifang 四方 (four-directional cosmology) 149–151 silk 153, 157, 178, 181, 193 Silk Roads 83, 188 Sogdiana/Sogdian 101, 179 Songze 崧泽 period (6000–3500 BCE) 148, 149, 151, 152, 153, 156
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Index 203 Steppe 5, 8, 59, 63, 66, 67, 68, 104, 110–112, 125, 135, 185–186 sumptuary laws/rules 65, 68–69, 163, 180–181 Taxila 110, 114n16 Tillya Tepe 66, 102, 111, 113n10, 114n16, 192 toe rings 58, 65, 68 trade networks 88, 90–92, 176, 188; see also Gold Road; Silk Roads use wear analysis 23, 34, 35n3 weapons: arrowheads 28, 43, 52, 114n19; axe 20, 150, 154, 184, 187, 193; dagger 60, 67, 103, 182, 184, 185, 187; knives 30, 43, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 49, 52, 53–54, 55, 61, 68, 103, 104, 105, 110, 114n19, 183, 184, 185; shields 122, 124, 133;
swords 61, 66, 96, 121, 122, 123, 124, 129, 130, 132–133, 136n12, 170, 181–182, 184, 185, 186, 187; yue 鉞 146, 150, 154, 155, 156, 157 Weizhi 魏志 (Book of Wei) 122, 126 Xianbei 鲜卑 58, 66, 67, 125, 176, 177, 179, 180, 184, 192 Xiongnu 匈奴 2, 5–6, 41, 50–51, 102, 161, 164, 165–166, 169, 173n4, 173n7, 173n9, 176, 178 Yan 燕, state of 67, 177 Yili 儀禮 (Etiquette and Rites) 167, 173n3 Yuezhi 月氏 102, 104, 111 Yufu zhi 輿服誌 (Record of Chariots and Clothing) 181, 184, 186, 187, 190, 192, 193 Zhang Hua 張華 194
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