A Mathematic Expression of Art: Sino-Iranian and Uighur Textile Interactions and the Turfan Textile Collection in Berlin.
Mariachiara Gasparini, Ruprecht-Karls Universität Heidelberg
Introduction
The two main roads around the Tarim Basin in Xinjiang province, China, are commonly referred to as the Northern and Southern Silk Road. Along them once thrived important cities and sacred places, where different artistic influences from various Central Asian cultures had gathered. The northern road, along which the city of Turfan is located, transversed one of the main cross-cultural regions between East and West, which can be defined as Sogdian-Turfanese. It reaches from the city of Samarkand in present Uzbekistan to the area of Dunhuang in Gansu province, China (figure 1).[1] Indian, Iranian, Chinese, Turkic and Mongolian Tibetan populations, along with diasporas from small and big heterogeneous ethnic groups, which over the centuries had moved in many directions along the Silk Road network, were among those who created a style that, due to its multi-ethnical features, should be recognized as "Central Asian". Nevertheless, this term has still not found its rightful place in the history of art. Instead, the style has been labeled as "Chinese", or sometimes "Iranian", or "Indian" depending on the scholarly discipline of the studies. However, in the Sogdian-Turfanese context, where languages and religions belonging to western, eastern, northern, and southern regions coalesced, the collaboration of local artisans who emerged from this cultural melting pot made a distinctly Central Asian style recognizable and different from those of the metropolitan and central areas of the great Chinese, Iranian or Indian empires. The cultural osmosis that took place in the Tarim basin created a common frame of references with common signs and graphemes, which are visible on various surfaces, among them textiles. Textiles were not only a highly movable commodity and a medium that could easily travel across the boundaries of the above-mentioned empires; they were also adaptable to various indigenous Eurasian contexts.
Since the end of the nineteenth century, Central Asia and the western regions of China attracted the attention of many European, Russian, American, and Japanese scholars, resulting, amongst other ventures, in various archaeological expeditions along the Northern and Southern Silk Roads. The number and collections of pieces of art discovered in the region since then have enriched our knowledge of human interactions and practices in the Eurasian continent. Nevertheless, their categorization has remained problematic. There are immense collections of wall paintings, wooden elements, decorated and non-decorated manuscripts in known and unknown languages, and painted and woven textiles. But while many of these collections were studied thoroughly, textiles, due to the technicality of their making, have never been acknowledged as a form of "fine art" but rather relegated to the field of material culture. Their role was—and still is—commonly explained as combining aesthetic, artistic, and engineering processes. A typical example can be found in Berlin. Between 1902 and 1914, Albert Grünwedel, director of the Indian Department of the Museum of Ethnology of Berlin, and Albert von Le Coq, his assistant at the museum, led four Royal Prussian Turfan expeditions to the area that was then known as "Chinese Turkestan". Although the wall paintings, the majority of manuscripts, and banners that they collected on these journeys have been thoroughly analyzed and published, the collection of textiles that they brought back always occupied a secondary place in these studies. A few pieces were shown by von Le Coq after his return and later scholars compared some examples with other media, but the collection as a whole has never been published or analyzed.[2]
Among the scholars interested in the Royal Prussian Turfan expeditions only a few have specifically analyzed and published about depicted costumes or textiles that were collected in Xinjiang. In 1998, Ulf Jäger, in his investigative study on the "Tocharian mummies" that were discovered in the Taklamakan desert, compared the costumes of the "Tocharian mummies" with the apparel of knights depicted on wall carvings of the Kizil caves, which are in the Museum of Asian Art in Berlin. However, Jäger did not mention the Turfan textile collection.[3] Later, in 2003, Chhaya Bhattacharya-Haesner published a study about the painted banners from the same expeditions and included in her work some of the woven fragments that she identified as embroidered banners.[4] In 2004, another couple of fragments were analyzed and published in a collection of essays regarding the first century of research into the art of the Silk Road.[5] Most recently, the International Dunhuang Project (IDP) at the British Library sponsored the digitization and the cataloging of the Turfan textile collection from August to October 2012.[6] After a first visual comparison with the better-known Dunhuang textile collections in the British Museum and the Victoria & Albert Museum in London, and the Guimet Museum in Paris, I carried out a technical analysis of the structures, fibers, and colors which traced very specific combinations of technique and material. These combinations I define broadly as "Sino-Iranian" or "Sino-Turkic" rather than "Irano-Chinese" or "Turkic-Chinese." "Sino-Iranian", for example, refers to the combination of elements created by groups of Chinese and Iranian language speakers in the western regions of China using Chinese silk, while "Sino-Turkic" refers to the combination with nomadic (mainly Turkic) elements from the northern steppe.[7]
The above combinations were fundamental in the development of Central Asian art, which brought forth a number of unique elements as a result of the processes of transculturation described below. The re-use of ancient totemic and graphic Asian elements in Central Asian textile production created new compositions and iconographies that followed different proportions and standards. This process included the assimilation but also the rejection and the translation of original symbolic meanings. The employment of some specific patterns on Central Asian textile surfaces has been often misunderstood or simply labeled as "Chinese", "Sasanian", or "Nomadic", without a clear differentiation or clarification between geographic areas and cultures. Based on the data collected to date and also thanks to the comparison with earlier items recently discovered in the ancient steppes of Eurasia—today belonging to the category of the so-called "animal-style"—it appears evident that Central Asian textile iconography was originally developed in pastoral-shamanic contexts and only later included in Buddhist, Zoroastrian, Manichean, and Islamic sacred spaces.[8] The relationship between nomadic and settled life, which had great impact on Central Asian artistic productions, changed from a latitudinal exchange between northern and southern trade-routes to longitudinal interactions that enriched the creation of that multicultural and transcultural network between eastern and western areas. In his recent work, Jonathan Karam Skaff has clarified the relationships between settlers and nomadic groups of people between central China, northern steppes, and western regions. According to him
the Middle Kingdom was envisioned as a "cultural island" surrounded by geographical barriers, but these physical obstructions were far more permeable than the rhetoric would suggest. For example, this conception of the Gobi as a barrier ignores that China-Inner Asia borderlands—rich in grasslands inhabited by Turko-Mongols—lay south of the desert in close proximity to the Sui-Tang capital (581-618/618-907).[9]
Part of this cultural intertwining has been traced in my analysis of the Turfan textile collection in Berlin and by comparing it with some of the mural paintings gathered during the four above-mentioned expeditions or left in situ. Rather than searching for the original meaning or the peculiar religious features of a woven pattern or grapheme, this essay focuses on the common cultural mathematic expression of counting warps and wefts in woven surfaces as it was developed by various ethnic groups in the Sogdian-Turfanese context.
Although, in the last decade, the art of weaving has gathered more attention and more research has been published, semiotic and aesthetic aspects have been often disregarded. Textiles are generally cataloged along with technical information or mentioned within historical contexts that tend to trace the use of this medium as a religious or kingship tool of power; nevertheless, little attention is paid to color palette, material, and terminology.[10] Except in some rare specialist works on textile history, where the study of Chinese (or other Asian language) sources is evident, the lack of technical textile terminology and the wrong transliteration and translation of Asian terms in Western languages have created much confusion and misunderstanding in the field of Art History. [11] The word "silk" is often employed as a substitute for the majority of textiles, regardless of the weaving structure. In isolated instances, the terms "brocade" and, even more rarely, "damask" are used to identify (even if inappropriately) patterned polychrome compounds.[12] Without neglecting the historical context and by paying special attention to terminology, the present study looks at the medium of textile as a mathematical expression of art that, due to the engineering process necessary for its creation, became a visual language of signs that were universally comprehended and adaptable to different territorial areas. Processes of de-territorialization and recycling that occurred over centuries have been approached here as constitutive of art forms that emerged following the cultural Central Asian osmosis in the Sogdian Turfanese area.
It is not among the tasks of this paper to explain the reproduction of a specific pattern on textile or of an entire composition on the murals and the architecture of the scattered caves along the Silk Roads, but it is important to point out that the comparison of those different two- and three-dimensional surfaces has suggested and sometimes confirmed the use and re-use of compositions and materials over a period of about six centuries (seventh to thirteenth century), beyond the boundaries of the various local cultures. The fragments were first compared with pieces from the Mogao caves in Dunhuang; only a second analysis has brought the fragments closer to pieces not necessarily "Chinese," which were excavated in Xinjiang and Qinghai and are now held in museums and other institutions across the globe. If sūtra wrappers, plain weaves with dyed patterns, and some other fragments appear to be identical to those from Dunhuang dated to the Tang period and to the period of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms (907-979), the rest of the fragments—mainly discovered in Qocho—seem to belong to a combination of motifs and patterns developed over a longer period in various areas of Central Asia, specifically Eastern Iran. Particularly interesting are those identified as Uighur that suggest a syncretic style of Chinese and Sogdian elements, a few of which will be discussed in this essay.
In the first half of the ninth century, the Uighurs—a Turkic people—moved into the Tarim basin from Mongolia. When in 856 they established their kingdom established in the region, the city name of the Han (206 BCE-220 CE) colony, Gaochang, was changed to Qocho. At that time, the region had already been influenced by Sogdian art and various motifs or patterns were reproduced on a variety of textiles. Known as the merchants of the Silk Road, the Sogdians were a group of Iranian peoples who flourished in Central Asia between the fifth and the eighth centuries. They first appeared in Chinese sources around 100 BCE. In this context, the analysis of some of the mentioned fragments reconfirms not only the idea of a possible adaptation of Sogdian motifs under Uighur artistic patronage in the region between the tenth and eleventh centuries, as already suggested by Russell-Smith, but also the great influence that this had on the textile production of the later Mongol period, both in China and Central Asia.[13]
Textile as a mathematic expression of art and economy
The study of textiles calls for an interdisciplinary approach that includes art history, anthropology, archaeology, history, and other fields. At the same time, in the study of textiles as a form of art, the fundamental role of tools and machines cannot be ignored. From raw fibers to the spinning of threads to the creation of a woven surface made of wefts and warps, textiles require technology. We will never know how the process began, but we can imagine how much materials and machines influenced the aesthetics of textiles. It is evident that, ever since basic textile structures were created, weaving has demanded mathematical thinking. Whatever may have led humans to the creation of textile surfaces—perhaps a casual weaving of plant fibers—there is no doubt that the process, once discovered, formed and transformed economies, societies, and cultures.
A simple or complex weaving structure is based on one of the three basic binding systems: tabby (or "plain"), twill, and satin. Of these binding systems, tabby is the easiest and probably the first ground that was developed (figure 2). The ratio is 1/1; each end passes over and under one pick, like in straw or bamboo baskets.[14] Twill and satin followed the first type and created slightly more complex ground effects. A twill ground is made of ends over two or more picks to create diagonal lines, and satin is made by five or more ends and an equal number of picks to give a smooth appearance. Based on these three binding systems, many variations of textiles have been created. These ratios between warps and wefts and the employment of extra bindings were utilized in most ancient, Central Asian textiles—mainly warp- or weft-faced compounds—and later, luxurious Eurasian textiles, such as lampas or brocaded damask. The knowledge of the ratio of threads was necessary to transform straight lines into complex patterns or sophisticated compositions. The deconstruction of a symmetric pattern in the creation of asymmetries and the introduction of new motifs were not only due to new trends but also to the cooperation of different artisans. Mathematical variations created new textile grounds. Thus, if a plain fabric was originally created for the necessity to cover the human body, the woven textile was an early phenomenon of common fashion across Eurasia that required similar or identical knowledge and expertise in the counting and binding of threads.
Regarding the Turfan collection, the fragility and the discoloration of the fragments as well as the museum's original confusing catalogue numeration have probably discouraged a previous systematic re-cataloguing and technical analysis.[15] In spite of the short time available for the digitization of the fragments, much interesting data have been collected and exquisite patterns have been disclosed. With the use of a digital microscope, they could be identified and their compositions reconstructed. This allowed for comparisons with textiles depicted on murals or on other weavings. There are some three hundred and fifty pieces in the collection (among which are banners, canopies, bags, cloth fragments, silk and paper flowers, and sutra wrappers), most of which are made of silk and cotton in different structures, sometimes combined with paper, leather, or bamboo. Among these, there are three major structures: warp- and the weft-faced compounds, which, because of the long-standing production in the area, can be defined as typical Central Asian textiles, and a type of self-patterned compound which was popular in the Chinese territories. Similarly to the warp-faced compound, which first appeared in the Western Zhou period (1046–771 BC), and which required a second group of warp threads to create the desired pattern, the weft-faced compound, which was developed during the Northern and Southern dynasties (420-589), required a second group of weft for patterning.[16] The third type was a self-patterned textile especially produced in China with a ground in tabby and/or twill (as well as variations) that is also similar to some of the fragments in the Turfan collection. During the Han period, the term qi 綺 referred to a self-patterned compound on a tabby ground. However, in the Tang period, it was mainly known as ling 綾 (also referring to damask on twill). A self-patterned compound made in satin ground has been very well known in Europe under the name of damask since the twelfth century; it was most likely produced in China during the Yuan period (1271-1368) and known there as duan 緞.[17] For this reason, the pieces analyzed here are referred to as "self-patterned compound" rather than "damask". Aside from patterns and compositions woven within the grounds, embroidering (in different stitches) and tie-dyeing or clamp-resist dyeing were also among the techniques used for patterning Central Asian textiles; they were often made in plain structures or in gauze and kesi 刻絲 tapestry. The common mathematical thinking among people of different origins, which lies at the heart of textile creation, resulted in similar or even identical engineering and technical processes that made textile a major medium of cultural interactions. This phenomenon of mathematical processing and cultural interaction is particularly evident on Sino-Iranian weaving surfaces produced in the Sogdian-Turfanese context.
The arts and techniques of textile production were indeed de-contextualized from specific locations to be transmitted and mixed in different regions and with various cultures. In turn, the variations of looms and textile surfaces created the foundations of economic and trading systems that included cultivation and farming of mulberry trees and cocoons for the production of silk, or sources of other fibers like cotton, hemp, and ramie, the trading of bamboo or wood for building looms and tools, and the import and export of raw materials and finished products.[18] Used as currency, textile was one of the main goods in the inventories discovered in burial sites and sacred temples in the western regions of China.[19] Some patterns that became popular in the East as well as in the West, and which are especially prominent on Sogdian-Turfanese fragments, prove the interchangeable use of textile as money along the Silk Road. The long-standing production of some of them was probably not only due to casual aesthetic reasons but also served as a "visual resemblance" of patterns already minted on coins. One of the best examples is the so-called "Sasanian" beads roundel featuring a single or mirrored pattern (often an animal), which is possibly related to the western coins with beads that generally included a king or a God (different from the Chinese wushu 五銖type with a squared hole in the middle) (figure 3).[20] This interchange of patterns on different media needs to be linked to two phenomena: first, the political expansion of different groups or peoples followed by the establishment of new political entities in Central Asian territories, and second, the creation of monastic complexes. If some patterns became signs of kingship in different areas or along the boundaries of the vast Silk Road network, the use and re-use of textile occurred also because of the spread of religions. Textiles added to the salary of soldiers were often exchanged for other goods in local markets or cut in pieces and used for the making of religious and devotional items.[21] The creation of banners, canopies, and other textile objects made of different assembled pieces of fabric in various structures and colors was a common practice, visible on the fragments discovered both in Xinjiang and Gansu.
Mutual influence and identification of a group of fragments
The Turfan collection can be mainly divided into personal items (robes, shoes, purses, etc.) and religious offerings (banners, canopies, and pennants). As mentioned above, the process of textile recycling occurred over the centuries and is visible on some fragments; pieces produced in the seventh or eighth century, possibly by Chinese artisans, were re-used and adapted to motifs and patterns sometimes embroidered two centuries later by people of a different culture or religion. In this regard, it was necessary to extensively study Iranian and Turkic culture to identify and clarify Sino-Iranian and nomadic developments, as well as interactions in the Sogdian-Turfanese area. Comparing different media has become the main approach used for the analysis of these textile fragments; similar practices between different ethnic groups sometimes created the same forms of art. Thus, an interdisciplinary analysis of media, styles, and cultures together with the analysis of the hues and the reconstruction of the color palettes have led toward a nonconventional way of studying Asian art and an understanding and clarification of the role of textile as a medium of human expression and communication. In what follows, I will present some of the most important pieces identified to date, which introduce some of the transcultural interactions that occurred in Central Asia through the art of weaving and embroidering. In particular, they reflect Sino-Sogdian and Sino-Uighur developments and consist of two early variations of the Sino-Iranian and Sino-Turkic styles. This categorization aims to clarify the predominance of some style combinations which, as already explained, cannot be easily categorized as being strictly "Chinese" or "Sasanian."
The Turfan collection includes various patterns and styles that are not closely related to Chinese culture; they contain elements that belong to other traditions. A good example of this mixture that reconfirms the stylistic interchange between different indigenous cultures is a unique miniature dress made of red gauze and samite. While it resembles dresses of the Tang figurines discovered in the graveyard of Astana (dated to the Tang period), the wide sleeves betray an earlier, non-Chinese style of clothing (figure 4).[22] They can be found, for example, on one of the groups of "Tocharian knights" depicted on a wall-painting from Kizil, which is dated between the fifth and sixth centuries. These knights wear robes with wing-like sleeves identical to those of the small dress (figure 5). Miniature clothes were especially made as funerary accoutrements to cover figurines or to be placed on the dead, such as the pieces discovered in Yinpan (along the Southern Silk Road).[23] The small red samite dress in the Turfan Collection very much resembles the one found on the breast of one of the mummified Caucasian bodies discovered in the Taklamakan desert in the Tarim basin that was covered with ancient, Western-style double robes dated to the third to fourth century CE. We do not know where these textiles were produced but the compositions of Roman-Hellenistic putti and Parthian-style rhombi nets with geometric motifs (identical to those used as junctions between later "Sasanian roundels" textiles) betray a strong Western iconography that had a long-standing influence on the production of Central Asian textiles.[24] According to the Museum's inventory cards, the small red dress was discovered in a hole in a Kizil cave. The Turfan textile collection has not been radiocarbon dated yet, but since the finds in the Kizil caves date back to between the third and eighth centuries and the dress resembles a Tocharian costume while also resembling the type of dress on the so-called Yinpan man, we can assume that it was made between the fourth and sixth centuries, thus certainly predating the Astana earlier than the Astana figurines. Since figurines or small statues began to appear only later as a new Tang fashion, the miniature dress in "Tocharian style" was probably made as a purse to contain offerings to be placed in the caves.[25]
The interaction of different cultures and styles in this area is also evident in the interplay between other media, especially between textiles and architecture, wall paintings, and both earlier and coeval sculptures. According to Sarah Fraser, many ceilings in Dunhuang resemble textile canopies but also the shape of wooden ceilings "from architectural Buddhist cave temples in Pakistan and Afghanistan".[26] No similar circular shape appears in the Dunhuang collections held in the previously mentioned European museums. In terms of shape, the roundel canopies in the Turfan collection instead resemble the domes of some caves in Bezeklik, Kizil, or Kumtura, which probably inspired the later Central Asian Islamic architecture, and differ from the pyramidal, square type preferred in Gansu. Among the canopies featured in the collection and analyzed for this study, two examples have a roundel-shaped form.[27] The first is a green and blue multi-stripe samite with a diameter of only fourteen centimeters, discovered in Qocho, and the second, from Toyok, with a diameter of about twenty eight-centimeters, in warp-faced compound with a ground of multiple, small pearl roundels, including a rosette (figure 6).[28]
The multi-stripe textile type was used in many different ways. For example, the first canopy mentioned above echoes the skirt of one of the figurines from Astana (figure 7) but also one of the three triangular pennants in the Turfan collection from the Sāngim ravine. The stripes of the pennant include small floral and abstract patterns (figure 8). As such, the composition is much more complex and resembles a rug from Gandhara, dated to the second or third century CE and held in the Walter Museum in Baltimore, on which sits a meditating bodhisattva (a schist sculpture).[29]
The collection contains an additional two pennants, one from Tumshuq, found during the fourth expedition in 1914, which represents textile evidence of a very popular decorative motif on architecture (figure 9) and a second type with embroidered flowers from the Kumtura cave 13 (figure 10). The former is a composition of tabby, twill, damask, and some parchment elements, and is identical in shape and size (twenty-eight by twenty-two centimeters) to those depicted around the death-bed of the Buddha in Parinirvana on the mural from the Kizil cave 171 (figure 11). Similar ornaments also appear on the external border of the Kizil domes, such as the copy displayed in the museum in Berlin, which is combined with some of the original wall paintings, and on two wooden elements (a board and a stupa), all held in the museum, as well (figures 12 and 13).
Among the many fragments gathered during the four expeditions, the embroideries dating back to between the ninth and eleventh centuries that show a combination of recycled material and adapted patterns represent the masterpieces of the collection. They belong to a period when the presence of Manichaeism became stronger until the Uighur rulers adopted it as their official religion.[30] Almost all embroideries are identified and can be divided into three types. The first contains particularly interesting, very fine chain stitches with alternating golden threads. The chosen colors were mainly crimson and ultramarine. A second type of embroidery is similar to those discovered in Dunhuang with typical Chinese features. These embroideries are made in satin or feature split stitches on fine, plain silk.[31] The third type includes blue and red silk geometric patterns, such as rhombi, on plain, thick cotton or hemp weavings, which resemble some patterns of the robes worn by the Sogdians in one of the praṇidhi (past-vows)scenes from Bezeklik, which were gathered during the expeditions and lost in Berlin during the Second World War.[32] The only survivor, which is currently held in the State Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia, has similar motifs but not identical to those in question. A comparison with ornaments on wall paintings and wooden beams held in the museum in Berlin strongly suggests that these embroideries date back to between the eighth and twelfth centuries.
The first group features a warp-faced compound with a figure that has been identified as the bodhisattva Maitreya, the universal Buddha of the future. It is one of the best preserved pieces and has been published on its own. However, several fragments with identical textile structures, embroideries, and colors, which are catalogued separately, suggest that they belonged to a possible original composition.[33] Maitreya is sitting in a cross-legged position, reminiscent of a previous Indo-Iranian style as can be seen on the Gandhāra sculpture of the Kuṣān period (first to fifth century CE). Although his moustache and the remaining zig-zag mandorla embroidered on the textile ground appear to be similar to those of the Buddha in the praṇidhi scenes from Bezeklik, the composition as a whole in its two-dimensionality resembles very much the Maitreya Buddha depicted on one of the walls from the Maya Cave in Kizil, which is now held in the Museum of Asian Art in Berlin (figure 14). Most likely, the embroidered Maitreya was the central figure of a large banner surrounded by other characters. His feet, almost reversed with the soles completely visible, suggest that the banner was intended to be high-placed and seen from below. The other two fragments, depicting a couple of human figures and a separate, small head, are reminiscent of a typical Buddhist banner with a bodhisattva in the center surrounded by attendants or other small figures, as seen in many painted Buddhist banners such as the Avalokiteśvara as Saviour from Perils in the British Museum, which was discovered in Dunhunag and is commonly dated to the same period of these three mentioned fragments (figure 15).[34]
Similar in technique to this Maitreya is the embroidery of a group of figures identified by Zsuzsanna Gulácsi as the Virgin of Light and her attendants.[35] The group belongs to the Manichean pantheon and is depicted like the composition of Avalokiteśvara on two scrolls from Dunhuang, which are held in the British Museum (figure 16).
Although partially damaged, this embroidery still shows the pigments of the threads and gold couching on flat paper threads, which is a typical Chinese technique that was already popular in the Tang period. Also, the flowers under the figures are like those depicted on wooden beams from the caves and combined with other, widely used "Uighur" ornaments. For instance, a sequence of elongated leaves was often combined with colored zig-zag or red serpentine, which also frame the above-mentioned praṇidhi scenes from Bezeklik (figure 17). This type of leaf also appears in the form of embroidery on another banner fragment from the Turfan collection.[36] As with many Uighur motifs, the leaf was an adaptation of an ancient type which is also visible in other contexts. An example is the panel of a funerary couch in the Freer Gallery, Washington, DC, dated to the Northern Qi dynasty (550-577). It was probably engraved for a Sogdian official living in China and was discovered in the Henan province. It is decorated with identical leaves and other Central Asian motifs that were also discovered on textile grounds.[37]
The warp-faced compound production seems to have decreased around the end of the eighth and the beginning of the ninth century, when the weft-faced compound types, such as samite, became popular. However, the above-mentioned compositions—the Maitreya and the Virgin of Light—are dated to between the tenth and eleventh centuries. They are embroidered on fine, thick warp-faced compounds that are well preserved and seem to have been recycled and embroidered with later Uighur-Manichaean elements.[38] Placed side by side with two of the wooden combs collected during the expeditions and examined with a digital microscope, the stitches of the gold couching seem to be divided by the teeth of the combs that measure about one millimeter (figures 18 and 19). The resulting chain is incredibly small, very similar to the type produced during the Han period or earlier, during the era of the Warring States (476-221 BCE). Looking at the fragments, it seems that the Uyghur preferred to use very fine and complex ancient techniques which required particular expertise and were very time consuming. The chain-stitches were probably made with a needle-hook, similar to some of the types collected during the Turfan expeditions, now in the museum in Berlin.[39] Satin or split-stitches, on the other hand, appear in larger compositions with Chinese features, such as those found in Dunhuang. Among those in the Turfan collection, the fragment of a big banner with a buddha and a bodhisattva, and another with a human figure, which can be included in the second group of embroideries, are of particular interest.[40]