Vleeshal
Archives in Embroidery:
Preserving Palimpsestic Pasts
24 June 2025
Vleeshal
Weaving Worlds:
Adopting and
Adapting
Traditional Craft
24 June 2024
The image: Reference image for Aisha Jandosova practice
Jeli (border) ornament on the south side of a tuskiyiz (a type of tapestry), made in the beginning of XX-century, in North Qazaqstan region (near Qızıljar).
Photo by Klavdiy Tshennikov
Aziza: Ornament is like a written language that can be interpreted in various ways. There is a world of folk interpretations — by embroiderers, keepers of traditions, and those who sell embroidery. Then there is the academic approach, which looks at history, the influence of Zoroastrianism, and so on. I do not fully understand how these approaches are connected yet; there are many factors. For example, during the Soviet period, knowledge was erased due to the change in political systems, the suppression of religion, and so on. What remained was the folk interpretation. Take the ornament "chur chiragh." Today, people recognize it differently in folk consciousness: some say it’s "bodom," "bodomgul" — an almond-shaped ornament that takes different forms depending on the embroidery school, but historically, this ornament was based on the image of a four-wick lamp used during Zoroastrianism. "Chur chiragh" like many other images, took on a more plant-like form after the arrival of Islam. Another example is the ornament "zuluk," a traditional pattern in the shape of the letter S. In Uzbek, it translates to "leech," and it is also known in folk tradition as "leech" or "snake." According to one researcher of Central Asian applied arts, Elmira Gul, this pattern is linked to a Zoroastrian image of two intertwined snakes, representing good and evil, and is closely tied to the concept of harmony and the duality of the world.
Aisha: Ornament is the language our ancestors used to communicate in. I try to memorize and recreate certain patterns from memory, so that little by little, the ornament becomes part of my embodied knowledge again. The core of the English word for "remembering" is "member," meaning part or component. How can I make something, like knowledge of ornamentation, part of my body again?
The image: Aisha Jandosova
a papercut reproduction of jeli ornament on the south side of a tuskiyiz photographed by Klavdiy Tshennikov in the beginning of XX-century, in North Qazaqstan region (near Qızıljar). Photo by Aisha Jandosova
It seems we were not only forced to forget who we are but also to adopt a completely different, distorted view of ourselves. For example, our ancestors had ornaments called camel’s eye and camel’s hoof. But just a couple of years ago, in Almaty, there were billboards with a huge image of a camel and a caption: "Don’t be like a camel!" The city authorities meant that people should not spit in public places. But for our ancestors, the camel was a sacred animal. In the steppe, in the very harsh landscape, especially in winter when the cold makes the ground as hard as stone, camels were one of the few animals that could survive for prolonged periods without water and dig into the frozen ground with their hooves to find food. The camel was a companion and collaborator for life in the steppe. The respect for camels was so great that camel wool was only used for valuable items — belts or jackets, which were also considered protective amulets. Very few people would dare to make a carpet out of camel wool and step on it. Our ancestors thought: "Be like the camel, learn from the camel!". Today, this important animal has become a symbol of deviant behavior.
Milana: The patterns of traditional golden embroidery are connected to Circassian gardens and sacred trees, around which the whole life of the Circassians was centered. I read the notes of General Philipson, who described the moment when a sacred tree was felled during the Russo-Caucasian War. The soldiers were astonished when, as they were cutting the trunk, they found a stone at the tree’s base. What did this mean? How did the Circassians grow trees with stones inside them? There are many questions. I came across an archival photograph that confirms the existence of stones at the base of sacred trees. It is likely that large boulders were placed at the base of the tree to make it more resilient and to ensure it lived longer. There is embroidery that shows a stone with a tree growing on it. An embroidery piece from the collection of the Hermitage Museum in Saint Petersburg is described as a "Vase with a Flower" but it is unlikely that the Circassians had vases with flowers in the past, or that it was something so significant it would be archived in embroidery. For me, the parallels with Circassian gardens are obvious.
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The image: Circassian Sacred Tree
Circassian Gardens practice planting and grafting wild fruit-bearing plants—pears, apples, plums, quinces, chestnuts, and many others — a practice developed and refined by the Circassians over centuries. Through grafting wild forest trees, new fruit-bearing varieties were produced. Circassian gardens covered vast areas. This practice was almost lost due to the Russo-Caucasian War and colonization, which forced many Circassians to relocate and leave their traditional lands.
Sacred Trees were specially planted trees around which Circassians gathered for various purposes — councils, courts, funerals, weddings, offerings, and harvest celebrations.
