This is the second in series of guests posts by Giselle Aviles, the 2019 Archaeological Research Associate in the Geography and Map Division, where she is delving into the treasures of the William and Inger Ginsberg Collection of Pre-Columbian Textiles and the Jay I. Kislak Collection of the History and Archaeology of the Early Americas. It was first published on the Library’s Worlds Revealed blog by John Hessler. We’re republishing a slightly edited version here so that more people can get a glimpse of her work. Aviles is undertaking an ethnographic analysis of Andean textiles and Mesoamerican ceramics, tracing and unfolding their stories. She is a former Research Fellow of the Quai Branly Museum-Martine Aublet Foundation in Paris, and has conducted fieldwork in Puerto Rico, Haiti, Algeria, France and Spain. She has come to the Library through the Hispanic National Internship Program sponsored by the Hispanic Association of Colleges and Universities (HACU).
From vivid reds, blues, oranges and yellows, to iridescent turquoise and purple, feathers can resemble a perfectly designed suit — delicately colored, with every detail evoking the sublime perfection of nature. It does not take much to imagine this kind of admiration for feathers many centuries ago in the early Americas, with objects like the ancient miniature tunic (shown below), part of the William and Inger Ginsberg Collection, looking as if it were made yesterday.
Scholars believe that this tunic (28.3 x 28.9 cm) comes from Ica Valley in Peru and that it dates from 1200-1350 AD. Heidi King, senior research associate at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, says these tunics were likely made as offerings to the deceased or as a wak’a (an object that represents something revered in Quechua), substituting for full-size garments. A close examination reveals that both sides have small openings for arms, and that there was once an opening at the top, now sewn, presumably for the head. It gives us deep insight into the techniques and skilled manipulation of feathers and cotton that Andean artisans utilized. We can see the meticulous nature of the craft, weaving little by little, until all the feathers were in place, creating a masterful work of art.
Tunics like this are composites, part woven textile and part natural feathers. They can be difficult to trace by date. Many are attributed to the Nasca (1st B.C.-7th A.D.) and Huari (7th-10th century) cultures because of their origin on the south coast of Peru. Although we do not have written documentation on feather workers from the Ica Valley of the 12-13th century A.D, later sources of information provide us some clues to their techniques and origin.
Love for feathers is found throughout the cultures of the early Americas, and there is rich historical documentation about them. Most of these are written from the post-conquest Spanish chroniclers’ point of view. Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala, for example, a Peruvian noble of Inca origin, wrote El Primer Nueva Corónica y Buen Gobierno Compuesto por Don Phelipe Guaman Poma de Aialas (The First New Chronicle and Good Government) in about the 17thcentury. It narrates stories of the costumes, traditions, and political structures from centuries past. Although the miniature tunic pictured here doesn’t belong to the period that Guaman Poma described, some of what he says helps us put it in context.
Guaman Poma tells us that “young boys hunted birds with slings; they kept the flesh for food and the feathers for use in the production of cloth.” Feathers were part of the patrimony of the richest nobles, and were also composed of precious stones, pearls, and necklaces. Rich Inca houses could have aviaries full of big and small macaws, parrots, parakeets, kestrels, doves, along with other birds from across the continent. The Incas valued feathers for the burial of their beloved family members. Guaman Poma writes that for someone recently deceased, “they wash his body and dress him all with his clothes and feathers and silver or gold jewelry, and put him on some ‘andas’ and go to the procession. They sing, go jumping and crying as the costume says.”
Further information can be taken from the 1770 Cartas de relación. This is a later edition of letters to King Charles V from the conquistador Hernán Cortes. It also includes other images and notes by the Archbishop of Mexico, Francisco Antonio Lorenzana. The first pages of the book show an image of Cortes offering the king a globe, a symbol of the New World, and next to him is the indigenous Nahua, dressed in a customary feathered skirt. The bow and arrow on the ground remind us that the violent swords of the Spaniards have defeated them.
Archbishop Lorenzana explains in the prologue “that his [Cortes’] obligation, imposed by the Royal Councils and Laws, was to love them tenderly and care for the Indians as minors, giving them an abundant spiritual covenant, breaking bread in small parts and the livelihood provided for their capacity and complexion.” Despite this paternalistic attitude, Lorenzana adds that the Aztecs were very ingenious in the arts, “so much that having sent to Rome a garment of the high priest of them, Achcauhquitlenamacani, the Court was marveled, and having seen the silversmiths of Madrid some pieces and bracelets of gold that Hernan Cortés had sent to King Charles V, they confessed that they were inimitable in Europe.”
In a section of the book entitled, “The people, which before the conquest paid tribute to Emperor Moctezuma, and in what species and quantity,” the Aztecs tax obligations are spelled out. Feathers served as tributos since people from different towns had to pay taxes to Emperor Moctezuma with the different objects they manufactured. Cortés explains that these tributos had to be paid every year and included military adornments, dresses, blankets, huipiles (traditional garments) for the women, and dresses with feathers.
Finally, an interesting manuscript from the Kislak Collection contains the reflections of the first Viceroy of New Spain, Arturo de Mendoza y Pacheco. Relación de las Ceremonias y Ritos y Población y Gobernación de los Indios de la Provincia de Michoacán reads almost like modern ethnography. Like Cortes, he recounts the trade of the Aztecs, and also how the Purépechas, rivals of Aztecs, divided their artisans into featherworkers, stonecutters, fishermen, painters, bow-makers, hunters, merchants, shoemakers and so on.
The uscuarecuri, Mendoza tells us, were craftsman who worked with feathers to make the dresses of their gods, using feathers from papagayos, herons, and many other birds.
Mendoza, Cortés, and Guaman Poma wrote about different cultures in different eras, but there is a continuity in their observations. Through them — and in a small tunic — we can see not only the value of feathers in the Ica Valley, but also the panorama of love, war and beauty that they represent across the ancient Americas.