Last week, I wrote about the embroidered late medieval vestments on display in the St Nicolai Church in Kalkar. We looked in depth at the richly embroidered chasuble donated by Wolter van Riswick in AD 1530. This week, we’ll examine a splendidly embroidered cope and dalmatic, also kept in the church in Kalkar. These vestments were also made in the Northern Netherlands around AD 1530.

The embroidery on the cope is a splendid affair. The scenes are very detailed, and there are many different figures. Looking at their faces, you will see they are all very individual. The stitching is very fine, and many different silk colours are used. Apart from the ‘fleshy’ parts, the figures are stitched using the or nue (shaded gold) technique. As many of these coloured silken stitches have fallen out and were likely replaced with colourless conservation thread, the scenes appear very golden. However, the remnants of intact or nue stitching show that it was once of the highest quality. Typical of the late medieval goldwork embroidery from the Low Countries.

Also, note the elaborately embroidered frame around the orphrey. It consists of a padded triple-zig-zag line, and trefoils fill the formed triangles. I think these borders were workshop-specific, and I don’t think I have encountered this particular one before.

The goldwork embroidery on the dalmatic is a bit simpler. Gone are the elaborate orphrey borders. Instead, the orphreys are surrounded by a common string-padded basket weave. The or nue embroidery used on the figures is also much more blocky and not so finely shaded as seen on the cope. The figures themselves are very standardised. And I am pretty sure that there are ‘twins’ out there reflecting the mass production of this type of embroidery. However, the embroidery is still good quality, just not as spectacular as seen on the cope. This probably reflects the hierarchy of the wearer of the vestments: priest versus deacon.

It was a real treat to encounter these splendidly embroidered late medieval vestments in a small town in Germany. Although Kalkar is close to the Dutch border, these late medieval vestments were not shown or mentioned at the large overview exhibition of Dutch late medieval embroidery in Utrecht in 2015. However, they testify further to the vast output of the late medieval goldwork embroidery workshops in the Northern Netherlands.

Literature
Werd, G. de, 2016. St. Nicolaikirche Kalkar. Deutscher Kunstverlag Berlin München.

Last year, I visited the St Nicolai Church in Kalkar, Germany. Kalkar was an important and wealthy city in the late medieval period. It was never very large, but with proud inhabitants who used their monetary power to decorate the place beautifully. Although no longer important from the 17th century onwards, and even reverting to city farming (think Detroit!) until well into the 19th century, Kalkar is well worth a visit. Especially as the St Nicolai Church has one of the most important church treasures still in its original place, and among it, are four spectacularly embroidered late medieval vestments made in the Low Countries. These vestments enhance the many beautiful altarpieces with their paintings and sculptures. You can really see that they form a unity. Think of them in 2-D, and you have an embroidery pattern.

The church inventory lists more than 100 vestments in AD 1543. Many of which were donated by important Kalkar families. Today, four of these vestments are displayed in the church treasury. You will need to visit on a sunny day as natural light is the only light source for these beauties. All four vestments are made of red velvet and decorated with the typical orphreys seen in the Low Countries. On display are: two copes, a dalmatic and a chasuble. We will explore the chasuble in this blog post.

The chasuble is a testament to the rich cultural heritage of the Northern Netherlands. Its beautifully embroidered orphreys, crafted around AD 1525, are a sight to behold. This chasuble, mentioned in the church inventory of AD 1543, was a generous donation by Wolter van Riswick in AD 1530. Wolter, hailing from a wealthy family, along with his brothers, contributed significantly to this church and the one in nearby Xanten. The front of the chasuble features an embroidered column with three scenes: the women visiting the grave, Noli me tangere, and the road to Emmaus appearance.

Although the front of the chasuble is currently on display, the back shows a most elaborate scene of the Crucifixion, followed by the burial of Jesus and the Resurrection. The embroidery is exquisite, and many techniques are used. There's finely shaded or nue for the clothing of most of the figures. There's diaper couching behind the crucified Christ, as well as on the beams forming the cross. The landscape is mainly made up of Italian Stitch/Couching (laid silk couched down with a single gold thread). The frame around the orphrey has been padded with string to form the zig-zag pattern with the dots. The blue scallops are also intricately stitched by recombining and twisting gold threads that come from the regular couching further up. All in all, this was a costly piece of embroidery executed by one of the leading embroidery ateliers in the Northern Netherlands.

Literature
Werd, G. de, 2016. St. Nicolaikirche Kalkar, Deutscher Kunstverlag Berlin München.

While researching the grave finds of some of these bishops and kings, I also came across other small embroidered pieces that piqued my curiosity. When we think of Opus anglicanum, we think of underside couched gold threads. However, the embroiderers also underside couched silk. The most famous example is the Syon cope. The background consists entirely of underside couched green and red silk. I always thought that the Syon cope was somewhat of an oddity. And it is in terms of Opus anglicanum copes. However, other pieces of embroidery show underside couched silk, too. Let's have a look.

Here you see the Syon cope (made AD 1310-1320, England) in its natural museum habitat. It is displayed in front of the equally stunning Hildesheim cope made in Germany in AD 1310-1320. I never entirely understand why the Victoria & Albert Museum points out to visitors: "Compared with known examples of contemporary Opus Anglicanum, this German work is rather naive and not as finely executed." Really? I beg to differ. But that's the topic of another blog post. Back to the underside couched silk!

Here, you see one of the central scenes on the back of the Syon cope: the Coronation of the Virgin. The red and green backgrounds of the scenes are filled with underside couched silk in a chevron pattern. And see the stripiness of the colour of the silk? That proves that different dye lots were used to stitch the cope. Maybe it was not apparent at the time of stitching. However, the different dye lots certainly reacted differently to light exposure over time.

As said, the underside couched silk on the Syon cope is a bit of an oddity. As far as I am aware, only a few smaller pieces of embroidery show underside couching in silk. So far, I have come across two amice apparels, an alb apparel, a stole, two seal-bags and an embroidered fragment. The oldest pieces date to the second half of the 12th century (vestments said to have belonged to Thomas Becket), and the youngest piece is the Syon cope itself, dating to the first quarter of the 14th century. The technique has also been in use for about 150 years.

But why would you underside couch silk? Look closely at the picture of the seal-bag. What does underside couched silk on the grain of the embroidery fabric remind you of? Indeed: brick stitch. Why did the embroiderers opt for underside couching instead of brick stitch? To save on silk thread? When another couching pattern, such as the chevron pattern on the Syon cope, is used, I can understand why you use underside couching. However, you could also use brick stitch for a chevron pattern (think Bargello). And when you go off the grid to fill design elements, underside couching is a good option too. But remember the 'inferior' Hildesheim cope? That one is stitched entirely in brick stitch variations. So why would embroiderers on the Continent opt for brick stitch and those on the British Isles for underside couching? What's the difference? Let's explore that next week with a tutorial!

Literature
Browne, C., Davies, G., Michael, M.A. (Eds.), 2016. English Medieval Embroidery: Opus Anglicanum. Yale University Press, New Haven.

This blog post is taking way longer to write than I intended. Sorry, I fell down a rabbit hole. And then another one :). I will find myself in both holes in the state library in Munich on Friday. What happened? As always, I think I have seen the same embroidery before, but when I look into it more deeply, things turn out not to be as similar as I thought. When we looked at the chasuble with embroidered scenes of the Life of Mary in the Kulturhistorisches Museum Magdeburg last week, I knew it belonged to a group of similar pieces. Were they all made around the same time in the same place? Or do subtle differences hint at multiple workshops in a much wider production area? Let's have a look.

Vestments with embroidered scenes from the Life of Mary contain different combinations of well-known events in Mary's life. These are usually: Annunciation, Visitation, Nativity, Adoration of the Magi and Circumcision. Other scenes might be the Presentation at the Temple, the Flight into Egypt, or the Dormition. To aid recognition, the scenes have been standardised. These embroideries were made in the 15th century and the early 16th century. Some embroideries are so similar that they hint at the use of block printing to transfer the design onto the embroidery linen. But how similar is similar?

Above, you see three renditions of the Annunciation. In all three cases, Mary is standing behind a reading desk. However, the designs are so different that they do not stem from the same pricking or printing block. Interestingly, the majority of these embroideries omit the reading desk. This means that these three embroideries were using a similar model book that differed from the model book all the other producers of these embroideries used. Desk or no desk is thus probably a characteristic of a particular production area.

But now look more closely. Let's explore the embroidery techniques used. The background consists of a diaper pattern. In all three cases: an open basket weave in red silk (faded to pink in Görlitz). The background pattern also seems to be a defining criterion. Most pieces have these sunny spirals in the background. The difference between stitching a sunny spiral (no counting) and a diaper pattern (counting) is a fundamental one and results in a very different product (taste). Therefore, I think this is region-specific and not workshop-specific (i.e. I don't believe there were 'diapers' and 'spirals' in the same region).

The embroidery materials used are pretty similar for all three pieces: linen fabric, gold threads and untwisted coloured silks. However, there is also gold gimp in two pieces. This is the composite thread that goes around the nimbus and along the edges of the clothing in the above picture. The embroidery from Brixen does not have this particular thread. I think that this was a thread that embroiderers made themselves. The edges in the Brixen piece are marked with embroidery. Maybe this specific workshop did not know how to make the thread or was just not keen on working with it.

Now look at the filling of the nimbus. The pieces from Magdeburg and Görlitz show Italian couching (laid silk with a gold thread on top). A couple of months ago, I wrote a tutorial on this technique. The piece from Brixen shows a very different filling: a sunny spiral. Is this workshop specific due to the preference of the embroiderer, or is this due to local taste?

One thing that I think is workshop-specific is the border between the orphreys. This would be a perfect way for an embroiderer or an embroidery workshop to put their stamp onto their work. The borders consist of simple basket weave over string padding in all three cases. The border from Görlitz shows these very fancy triangles in silk and gold thread. If you would like to recreate it, have a look at the tutorial I made.

I am collating all related pieces on a Padlet. With a bit of luck, groups will begin to form, and two or more pieces might come from the same workshop. In the future, art historians might be able to locate these groups in a specific region. My Journeyman and Master Patrons have access to this fascinating ongoing research.

Before we dive into a new medieval embroidery topic, I must let you know that I had to postpone the sign-up date for the Medieval Goldwork Course. The production of the real gold threads has been delayed, and they won't be here on time. Due to various teaching commitments and the required travelling, the new sign-up date will be September 3rd 2024. I apologise for the delay! In the meantime, I am updating the course contents with lots of additional pieces, pictures, downloadable literature, and whatnot. This version will be the most comprehensive so far, offering even more in-depth knowledge. And as always, past students will have access to the updated course contents!

Last week, Sabine Ullrich, curator of the Kulturhistorisches Museum Magdeburg, invited me to view a chasuble cross in storage. To my delight, Sabine came up with a few additional pieces for me to study. While there are currently no medieval embroideries on display in the museum, textile enthusiasts should visit as there are beautiful late-medieval and 16th-century tapestries on permanent display. The original chasuble cross I came for belongs to a group of German goldwork embroideries that depict the life of Mary. The scenes are standardised, not unlike the Virgo inter Virgines embroideries I told you about in an earlier blog post. The chasuble cross was made somewhere in the middle of the 15th century. Let's explore!

Here you see the chasuble cross in question. It is kept under glass in a frame and thus difficult to photograph. Getting it out there requires a textile conservator and might damage the embroidery. It is not worth the risk and is unnecessary for my research. From the top, the cross shows the Nativity in the centre (according to the Revelation of St Bridget), with the Adoration of the Magi on the left and the donkey and the oxen on the right. Below is the Annunciation, followed by the Visitation at the bottom. The chasuble cross had been mounted onto a chasuble (also kept in the museum), and there is no corresponding column for the front with possible additional scenes.

When you look at the damaged areas in the faces and the mantles of Mary and Elisabeth, you see that the whole embroidery is executed on two layers of linen. A course linen on the back and a fine linen on which the design was drawn or block printed. The gold threads are of the membrane type (probably with a linen core) and have completely oxidised to black. This embroidery once looked very different! Whilst the blues and the greens are still quite vivid, the orange has probably faded a lot. The silk embroidery on the clothing is of the very regular encroaching gobelin stitch type. The faces were originally stitched in tiny split stitches that followed the flow of the facial features. Just like in Opus anglicanum. Mary's long, flowing hair is a much messier affair. I think these are longer split stitches mixed with straight stitches.

Parts of the clothing of Mary and Elisabeth are worked in pairs of couched gold thread. The couching pattern is a simple bricking pattern with a light-coloured silken thread. The folds are accentuated by string padding. The string padding is made of linen threads twisted together. The edges are embellished with a gold gimp. A gold gimp is in this case a linen thread wrapped with a thin gold thread (membrane gold). This gold thread is thinner than the gold thread used for the rest of the gold embroidery. To create the edge of the halos, two gold gimps have been twisted together and couched in place.

The filling of the halos, the bit of blue sky and the grassy area the women are standing on have been embroidered in a technique that's often called Italian couching. The area is first filled with laidwork in coloured silk. The silk is further fixated by couching down a single (or double) gold thread on top. The gold threads are spaced so that the silken laidwork is visible. In order to minimise waste, the gold threads are not ended/plunged at the end of a row. They are just hidden close to the edge of the design element. I have written a tutorial about this trick.

The architectural background is rather sparse. There's a simple vault over the women with keystones shaped like flowers. Again, padding has been achieved with those linen strings. The diaper pattern in the background is an open basket weave made with red silk. It is one of the most popular diaper patterns ever used. The borders between the different orphreys have been embellished with simple basket weave over string padding. Either with gold threads only or with a combination of gold threads and coloured silks.

Next week, I will show you further examples of this iconography. Let's see if we can find clusters within the larger group. Further down the road, we will also see if the gold gimp can be recreated with modern materials. My Journeyman and Master Patreons can find more detailed pictures of the chasuble cross on my Patreon page. Their generous monthly contributions made my travels to Magdeburg possible. Thank you very much!

Professional embroidery is very different from hobby embroidery. Sometimes, hobbyists remark that the back of my embroidery isn't very neat. For some, a neat back is the hallmark of excellent embroidery. It makes sense to have a neat back when the embroidery can be viewed from both sides. But when that's not the case, there is no need for an overly neat back. Medieval embroiderers knew that. As they were professional embroiderers trying to make a living, speed was of the essence. A neat back was not. And whilst there were different qualities of embroidery for different purses, cutting corners can be seen in many pieces. By no means only in lower quality embroidery. The grapes on the Anne Geddes chasuble from Mainz are a case in point. You will find a downloadable PDF of the below instructions on my Patreon site.

You can make your grapes any size you like. Mine are 1,5 cm in diameter. You can also make as large a bundle as you want. Start by padding your grapes with three layers of satin stitches. I've used soft cotton for this. Make sure your last layer runs horizontally and just within the design line of the grapes.

Modern embroiderers would now probably proceed by shading each grape individually. Not so our medieval embroiderer: he did the whole lot in one go! Add shaded satin stitch or laid work on top of the padding. I've used a slightly twisted silk by DeVere Yarns (#60) in three shades of blue. Once all the silk is in, add a few highlights with your gold thread. I've used a #6 passing thread directly in the needle.

Add the outline of the grapes with a dark blue silk in split stitch. Feel with your fingers where the padding is. You can also easily peek between the silken stitches to see where you will need to go. These split stitches couch the silk and the gold thread down and define the grapes.

And that's all there is to these super simple, yet highly effective padded grapes. As always, my Journeyman and Master Patrons find a downloadable PDF with the instructions on the Patreon website.

When I reviewed the 'Art of Gold Embroidery' a few weeks ago, the book's biggest drawback is that it is mainly written in Uzbek and Russian, languages most of us are unfamiliar with. It also seems to be impossible to get hold of. Several people asked me if 'The art of gold embroidery in Uzbekistan' by Suzanne Pennell would be a good alternative. As this was also the primary source used by Dr Gillian Vogelsang-Eastwood in her chapter on Uzbek gold embroidery in the 'Encyclopedia of Embroidery from Central Asia, the Iranian Plateau and the Indian Subcontinent', I decided to order a copy and review it for you.

Suzanne Pennell wrote the book almost 25 years ago. It is her master's thesis submitted to the James Cook University in Australia. Various online bookstores offer the book as 'print on demand'. This means that the book looks like you have printed it on your home office printer. The many pictures in the book are of sufficient quality to accompany the text. However, you would be disappointed if you hoped to drool over detailed images of the beautiful goldwork embroidery. Also, keep in mind that this is a MA thesis. It was written by someone who relied entirely on translators to do her field research in Uzbekistan, as she could not speak Uzbek or Russian. That being said, it is the only book available in English which summarises the extant Russian literature on the topic.

The book starts with a short introduction and the research methods employed. Pennell interviewed the embroidery master Bakshillo Jumeyev (writer of the 'Art of Gold Embroidery', a mother and daughter preparing a trousseau, visited museums in Tashkent and Bukhara and ploughed through the literature. The first chapter gives a broad overview of the history of the area of Uzbekistan and the archaeological and historical evidence for gold embroidery. As noted before, the evidence is scant, primary literature resources are absent, and references in classical Greek literature are not critically reviewed. This would be an excellent research topic for an embroiderer fluent in Uzbek, Russian and preferably Chinese.

The second chapter I liked best. It talks about the materials and tools used and the organisation of the embroidery guild. To me, this is an ethnographical study that compliments my research on medieval goldwork embroiderers. It fleshes out the scant information I have and paints a picture of how the lives of medieval gold embroiderers might have been. It also makes you realise how little we know. For instance, every diaper pattern likely had a name. It makes communication within the embroidery workshop and between the workshop and the client a lot easier when techniques and textures have names.

I found the rest of the book also extremely interesting! Pennell aimed to document and explain the changes goldwork embroidery in Uzbekistan had undergone when regimes changed from Emir to Russian Tsar to Communist Russia to independence in 1991. A whole chapter is dedicated to detailing the practice at the last courts of the emirs. Opulence and self-indulgence led to a Golden Age for Bukhara's gold embroidery. At first, not much changed when Tsarist Russia colonised the area. However, everything changed after the October Revolution in 1917, especially as Bolshevik ideology required women to emancipate and join the workforce. Gold embroidery changed from a predominantly male occupation into a female occupation under state control. After Independence in 1991, the Uzbek government actively promotes goldwork embroidery to forge a new national identity.

Reading Pennell's MA thesis, I better understood why the Uzbek government pours so many resources into organising a biannual International Gold Embroidery Festival. Such festivals hail back to the days of the emirs when fairs like these were held several times a year to display the products and skills of all the master embroiderers and their workshops. And remember the gold embroidered coat every participant got? That's an ancient custom, too. Gifting 'robes of honour' to important guests was quite the norm.

All in all, I really liked the book, especially because I can use its contents to help me understand the pictures and texts in the 'Art of Gold Embroidery'. Getting hold of the original Russian literature in the West would be very time-consuming. This is a much cheaper alternative and will do for most of us. This book is for you when you are interested in national dress and ethnography! You can order your print-on-demand or second-hand copy through the AbeBooks website.

Let's delve into the fascinating world of a unique embroidery crafted around AD 1500 in the Middle Rhine Area. This masterpiece, housed at the Dommuseum Mainz, is a testament to local artistry. Its iconography, a departure from the norm in medieval goldwork embroidery from Europe, is truly one-of-a-kind. It's reminiscent of the whimsical art photographs by Anne Geddes, but instead of babies nestled in foliage, we have the figures of the Crucifixion and an Apostle. Allow me to unveil this intriguing piece.

As you can see from the above picture, the embroidered chasuble cross has been cut on all sides. Two patches and an extra piece of grapes have been added on each side of the cross beam of the cross. Those two patches were originally the bottom of one of these foliage cups the figures stand in. It isn't the bottom part of the cup Bartholomew the Apostle stands in (the colours are wrong). This means there either was a further figure below Bartholomew or a column with the same embroidery on the front of the chasuble. I have contacted the museum to see what the front looks like.

What is represented here? We see the crucified Christ standing in a foliage cup with two angels catching his blood in chalices. Above Christ, God father is depicted standing in a smaller foliage cup. Below Christ are Saint John and Mary. The crucified Christ, God father, Saint John, Mary and the angels are all familiar figures in a standard Crucifixion scene. Apostle Bartholomew at the bottom is also regularly seen below a Crucifixion scene. What is, however, very unusual is that the Crucifixion scene is embedded in this glorious vine with the beautiful foliage cups and bundles of shaded padded grapes.

As far as I know, this particular combination of the vine and the Crucifixion cannot be found on any other piece of medieval goldwork embroidery. It is a unique way of depicting the eucharist. Normally, this is done by showing Jesus working in a wine press. A good example is this silk and metal thread embroidery on linen kept at the Germanisches Nationalmuseum in Nuremberg. You see Christ in the Winepress on the left—a very different depiction indeed.

But I did find something comparable. Here, you see an icon painted by Angelos Akotantos between AD 1425-1457. It is known as 'Christ the Vine' based on John 15:1–17. We see busts of Christ, the Evangelists and some of the Apostles sitting on the branches of a vine. Could it be that the artists responsible for the chasuble design from Mainz saw an Eastern Orthodox icon of 'Christ the Vine' and combined the idea with the Crucifixion? People, objects and ideas travelled much farther in the Middle Ages than we often think.

The actual embroidery is also a bit unusual. The background consists of miles of laid red silk couched with metal threads. The figures and the vine are stitched on linen and then applied to the red and golden background. The vine, and especially the grapes, are heavily padded. The figures are mainly stitched in that typical medieval encroaching satin stitch. And I like the angel's hair. It is probably made of overtwisted silk rather than knots. And in this case, the angel is a partly blonde redhead :).

I hope you liked this unusual piece of medieval goldwork and silk embroidery. The foliage cups are superb design elements one could use in, for instance, a modern crewelwork embroidery.

When I was in Uzbekistan, I bought a small piece of gold embroidery that is being produced for the tourist market. Nothing high-end, but fun nonetheless. Recreating the embroidery is a great way to learn about Uzbek gold embroidery and its main techniques and materials. Let's start stitching! As always, a PDF download is available for my Journeyman and Master Patreons.

Uzbek gold embroidery is traditionally worked on a piece of velvet backed with calico. One of the main techniques is called zardozi-guldozi and consists of gimped couching over cardboard padding. The gold threads used are far thinner and more flexible than what is usually used in the West. A good substitute would be metallic sewing thread. You will also need a passing thread or a thin Japanese thread for the outline.

Print the above template onto a piece of thin cardboard. Cut it out carefully. Glue a small piece of velvet (a different colour than your background) behind the central design element.

Tack the cardboard padding in place. Wear a thimble to protect your fingers.

You will couch down five strands of your thin metallic thread with each couching stitch. This embroidery was made for the tourist market, so speed is important. Using one or even two strands would take far too long. You lay your bundle of threads back and forth over the cardboard padding and you couch down alongside the cardboard. Tails are either hidden under the cardboard or plunged and tied back on the reverse.

You will sometimes need to fan your stitches to be able to follow the shape correctly and to completely fill it. An extreme case is the central element around the glued piece of velvet. At the bottom, you will need to stitch through the cardboard padding.

Fill the large leaf with a couching pattern of your choice. I have used a chevron pattern called mauji-duruya.

Finish the sample by couching an outline with passing or Japanese thread around the piece. Make small loops in the appropriate places and a tendril at the side. The row of loops/coils on the bottom part of the leaf is called kabuli. It hints at an Afghan origin of the technique.

Working over cardboard is very similar to working over parchment padding. This was a common technique in medieval goldwork embroidery. The small coils are also frequently seen. What is very different is the softness of the gold threads. The origianls are even finer and softer making for a smoother surface.

If you would like a PDF download of the instructions including 21 step-by-step photographs, please consider becoming a Journeyman or Master Patron.

We were presented with a captivating book on Uzbek Gold Embroidery at the start of the International Festival of Gold Embroidery in Bukhara, Uzbekistan. This exquisite book, adorned with chapters on the rich history of gold embroidery, the vibrant community of gold embroiderers in Bukhara, materials, tools, techniques, and a catalogue of both historic and contemporary masterpieces, is a treasure trove for any embroidery enthusiast. Approximately half of the book is dedicated to stunning pictures of gold embroidery. Regrettably, only the chapters on the history of gold embroidery, the organisation of the gold embroiderers in Bukhara, and the catalogue are translated into English. Despite this, it is a book that undoubtedly deserves a place on your shelves!

The book is authored by Bakhshillo Dzhumaev (or Jumayev), a seventh-generation gold embroiderer in Bukhara who has successfully passed on the craft to his son. Although I did not have the opportunity to meet him, I did meet his son and was graciously given a tour of the family business. However, the most significant encounter was with his mother, Muqaddas Jumayeva. She patiently demonstrated some typical Bukhara techniques of gimped couching. I also had the privilege of exchanging my broche for hers, a precious memento from my journey. The Jumayev family are the epitome of gold embroidery royalty, and I am deeply honoured that they shared their knowledge and craft with me.

The chapter on the ancient history of gold embroidery mainly contains quotes from classical sources. Unfortunately, recent research has shown that we should be very careful with their interpretation. They are more likely to talk about woven textiles and not gold-embroidered textiles. However, archaeological finds from Central Asia and Uzbekistan, in particular, show that gold embroidery was known as early as the first or second century AD. Unfortunately, no reference is stated for these archaeological finds from a female grave in the Tashkent region made by M.E. Voronts. If you know of a publication, please let me know. More secure historical sources date back to the 15th century.

The chapter on the art of gold embroidery of Bukhara is a real gem. From at least the 16th century onwards, Bukhara was the region's gold embroidery centre. There were two categories of gold embroiderers (again, a male profession with related females only acting as assistants when the workload required it): one group worked directly for the ruler in the palace workshops, and the other group worked in small family businesses located in town. In order to be able to quickly deliver larger orders, there was a labour division with many embroiderers working on the same piece. And just as is the case with medieval goldwork from Europe, pieces were not signed and almost never dated.

The embroiderers were organised in a guild with a single guild master and his assistant overlooking production. This person was called an Aksakal. He was responsible for the fair distribution of the orders amongst the guild members and acted as a mediator between the palace workshops and the many private workshops. The guild also marked births, weddings and funerals of its members. Every year in the spring, there was a kind of a trade fair or festival called Guli Surkh. The embroidery masters would present their products there.

Gold embroidery was inherited from father to son (and, in more recent times, also to daughters). If you learned from your father, you were considered a master. Sometimes, more distant relatives or the children of neighbours were also allowed to become apprentices. These apprentices went through a long training period before becoming a master. Similar to apprentices in Western Europe, they did not receive a wage but were given board and bed instead. Apprentices started with cleaning the workshop, then they were allowed to wind the broches (called patella), set up the slate frames (koruna) and finally were allowed to embroider flowers before being shown the more complicated techniques and patterns.

Interestingly, storytellers would visit the embroidery workshops once or twice a week to read the guild regulations whilst the embroiderers were working. These regulations contained a history of the craft, rules on how the embroiderers were to behave towards their customers and their apprentices, the quality of the work and materials used, the cleanliness of the embroiderer and his workshop and the prayers that needed to be said before, during and after the work. The gold embroiderers also venerate a patron saint, Hazrat Yusuf. As we know, medieval guilds also had their patron saints; one wonders if there were 'work' prayers said also.

Unfortunately, the materials, tools and techniques chapters do not come with an English translation. Neither do the many biographies of past and present gold embroiderers featured in the book. It has proven rather difficult to translate these parts from Uzbek into English. My normal method does not seem to work as Uzbek is too obscure a language. Nevertheless, I will try to find out what is written here as I have a feeling that it is quite important.

The second very important thing that eludes me at the moment is where to get the book. It has an ISBN number (978-9943-8192-9-0) but a search on the web does not return anything. A google image search of the cover did not return anything either. The publisher is Sahhof in Tashkent. And again, a search does not return anything. If you can offer any help here, please let me know so that I can share it with the wider embroidery community. Your assistance in this matter would be greatly appreciated!

Literature
Dzhumaev, B., 2022. Art of Gold Embroidery. Sahhof, Tashkent.
Gleba, M., 2008. Auratae vestes: Gold textiles in the ancient Mediterranean, in: Alfaro, C., Karali, L. (Eds.), Purpureae Vestes II, Vestidos, Textiles y Tintes: Estudios sober la produccion de bienes de consumo en la antiguidad. University of València, València, pp. 61–77.