CLASSIC AND ECCENTRIC ELEMENTS IN
EAST SUMBA TEXTILES.
A FIELD REPORT
By
Mont Avan, Research Associate
Textile Museum, Wash., D.C.
The current upsurge of interest in exotic crafts is turning our attention
increasingly to village arts, that is, those arts practiced far from the great
industrial centers. In the fied of weaving and textile decoration, the village
arts of Indonesia form an important segment of those arts whose “magic” of
creation lies not in complex and efficient equipment but in the intangible skills
of hand and eye. Most famous are the myriad hand-drawn patterns of cotton
batiks from Java and the delicate, muted designs of silks from Sumatra and
Bali. Less well-known but increasingly admired are the heavier cotton cloths
decorated with natural dyes from Eastern Indonesia. Among these, the colorful
mantles from Sumba, a small island east of Bali, are outstanding not only for
exceptionally interesting technical aspects but also as a visually exciting art.
Produced by women, only in the coastal districts of the eastern half of the
island, the large rectangular cloths are worn by men throughout East Sumba
‘on ceremonial occasions. Each cloth consists of two identical panels, forming a
rectangle measuring approximately three yards in length and one and a half
yards in width, Two cloths are necessary to form an outfit, one wrapped around
the hips, the other draped over one shoulder.
Boldly designed and richly colored in a variety of tones of rust and blue,
the mantles are decorated by a form of tie-dyeing widely known in Indonesia
and termed in Indonesian, ikat, meaning “to bind.” The “binding” refers
to an important step in the formation of the designs which are dyed onto the
yarn strands before weaving. I will, further on, discuss refinements of this
technique based on my recent research visit to the island of Sumba. Although
in the 19th century Sumba cloths were woven of home-grown handspun cotton
yarn, at present only imported machine yarn is used for the men’s ikatted
costume, Fortunately, traditional textile design is still a thriving art on the
island,‘Visually, East Sumba men’s cloths (S. hinggi) stand apart from other
Indonesian textiles, which are usually embellished with small motifs of
‘ornamental character. The hinggi characteristically exhibits a great variety of
figurative designs, such as, trees bearing human skulls, large birds and fish, or
‘humans standing or riding horseback. These figures are arranged in a formal
system which produces a pleasing, balanced composition.
Figure 1 provides a classic example of the style. Designs typically appear
as light-colored Sigures in horizontal rows against a background of alternating
rust and purplish-brown tones, the latter a result of overdyeing rust and blue
colors, Within the rows, the design units, consisting usually of confronting
pairs of animals, are repeated, although the wide, main band may present two
different designs in simple alternation, such as in Figure 1, a sea shrimp seen
from overhead and a leafy plant. Smaller figures, some dyed rust or blue, fil
the spaces in and around the major images. The first and third bands, called
(8) talaba, border, on a rust ground form a bright frame for the wide dark
band, called tau, body, or hai, crest, comb. The rows above the top talaba are
referred to simply as the middle (la padua) or kundu duku, which refers to
the part “worn on the shoulder.”
The number of bands is always uneven and the center row of designs
spans the middle of the cloth. Above and below this center, the sequence of
color bands and designs are identical. Thus the cloth consists of mirror-image
halves. However, the orientation of the designs within the bands divides the
surface into three broad areas: a centerfield featuring schematic designs and
two flanking endfields containing identical plant and animal figures. The
images in the endfields are oriented to stand upright when the cloth hangs
from the center —as it does when worn on the shoulder, but the schematic
design in the centerband is biaxial. It may be read equally well when viewed
from top or bottom.
To inventory the designs, it is sufficient to see only one half the cloth plus
the full centerband.' This optimum view is shown in Figure 1, Reading from
the fringe, the figures are as follows: confronting sea birds, large sea shrimp
(found in offshore waters) alternating with a live plant which in tum is
flanked by small skull trees; confronting birds again, confronting fish, con-
fronting floating birds and finally the center band which contains an alternating.
circle and dotted lozenge motif.
In East Sumba cloths, most of the major figures such as plants, roosters,
cockatoos, snakes, crocodiles, deer and ponies are recognizably drawn from local
surroundings, Other designs reflect conceptions specific to Sumbanese culture,
‘The dead tree hung with human skulls (Fig. 2) represents the skull tree that
was an important feature of the royal village, where it served as a sign of
4victory over enemies. The stone base in which the dead tree was placed and the
buffalo horns attached to the trunk at the victory feast are usually shown
in realistic detail on the textiles. Another royal motif is the heraldic set of
rampant lions (Fig. 3, 4th row) which derives from the coatof-arms imprinted
on the former Dutch Government's medallions, coins and other official insignia
treasured by the rulers of Sumba, All these designs, because of their importance
or preciousness, have become symbols of prestige. As prestigious images, they
serve as metaphors for royalty.
‘One of the most pleasing aspects of East Sumba textiles is the effect of the
colors. In fine cloths, the Sumbanese employ two basic colors, rust, which
ranges from somber to brilliant, and blue in both light and dark tones. These
are obtained by the use of natural dyes, widely available in Indonesia. The rust
‘dyes derive from the bark and roots of the (S.) kombu tree (Ind., mengkudu;
L,, Morinda citrifolia) ; the blue, from the indigo plant. The Sumbanese first
dye with the indigo (Fig. E) then with the rust color (Fig. G), producing in
some areas of the cloth considerable overdyeing which results in the dark
purplish or brown tone of much of the background,
Both dyes are applied in cold processing. Before the mengkudu solution
can produce rusted tones on cotton, the fiber must be prepared by oiling.
This is done after indigo dyeing. The yarn is soaked in an oily solution made
from the kernel of the (S.) kawilu plant (Ind. kemiri) which is plentiful
locally. (Fig. F). To the mengkudu dye solution itself, the Sumbanese add the
bark and leaves of the (S.) loba tree. This provides the alum chemically needed
for brightness and thus the Sumbanese obtain the more brilliant tones of rust-
red which make their cloths recognizably distinct from those of neighboring
island peoples who also use mengkudu, To obtain loba, however, the coastal
people must trade with the inhabitants of the interior highlands where the tree
(prob. L. Symplocos) grows.
After the cloth is woven, a yellow stain (obtained variously from local
plants) is daubed on in and around the designs. This heightens the variegated
‘effect created by the changes of color tone among the many details and small
figures of the textile, altogether creating a shimmering effect admired by the
‘Sumbanese. The soft tones of undyed areas, which are slightly yellowed in the
course of dye-work, subtly contribute to the visual unity of the surface. Before
these dyeing processes can begin, however, the work of forming the designs
must already have been done. This is achieved through the ikat or binding
technique.
‘The ikat technique employed to obtain the multitude of images is
essentially a method of binding for reserve dyeing which may be used to
decorate either the warp (the lengthwise yarn) , the weft (the crosswise strands)
5or, more rarely, both. On Sumba, as on most of the islands of eastern Indonesia,
only the warp is ikatted.
To begin ikatting, EastSumba style, white undyed yarn is first wound
around a frame half the desired length of the mantle. (Fig. A). During the
‘winding, the strands are separated into odd and even layers necessary for form-
ing sheds or openings in the later weaving process. The yarn is also grouped
into sets of, say, ten pairs of strands each. (Fig. B). Before tying in the designs,
it is customary to superpose eight layers of yarn; that is, a total of eight sets
g0 into each binding. (Fig. C).* Each layer represents one-half of the four
identical panels needed for the costume pair (two mantles or hinggi) .
Using the combined sets as the tying unit, the yarn is bound with dye.
resistant leaf strips (from the gewang palm) in the shapes of the desired figures
(Fig. D). The bindings prevent these areas from absorbing color during dye
baths, so that finally the designs will appear as undyed areas on a darker
ground,
‘The Sumbanese use a two-color tiedye system. In tying, however, the
craftswomen do not distinguish among the color areas by means of different
binding knots because they know the patterns so well. When dyeing of the
first color, blue, is complete, parts to be dyed rust are unbound in order to
expose those areas to the oiling and the rust dye. If, as is customary, small
design areas of medium or light blue tone are desired, the bindings for those
areas must be cut away at some point in the indigo dippings and, after the
desired tone of blue is obtained, those areas must be recovered with bindings
in order to avoid overdyeing in subsequent rust dye-baths. After completing
the rust dyeing, the remaining bindings are removed (Fig. H), revealing the
designs in the original color of the yarn (except those in medium blue or
rust) against a background of overdyed blue and rust.
After starching, dyed still-circular warp bundles sufficient for one panel
are slipped onto the loom which is a simple, two-beam frameless type (the so-
called backstrap loom). Oné beam is attached to two posts; the other is linked
by cords to a pole or strap at the weaver's back which permits her to vary the
tension of the warp as appropriate to various stages of weaving. (Fig. H).On
this loom, used without a reed, the Sumbanese produce a warp-faced weave.
‘The weft, which does not show on the surface, is dyed simply in one or both
of the colors used.
Obviously all these processes the yarn passes through call for some means
of keeping the strands in fixed order so that when the warp is stretched on the
loom, the designs will appear clearly in good alignment. To accomplish this
requires painstaking attention at several critical poiits, First, prior to being
6set up on the tying frame, the yarn, whether handspun or imported machine
work, must be stretched to reach a uniform tautness, so that in later handling,
individual strands will not become longer or shorter and thus spoil the design.
On the tying frame, the women must ensure that an equal number of
consecutive strands are included in each set. Once the number of warp sets
required for the desired width of the mantle is obtained, a strong cross cord.
is knotted continuously around each set, firmly binding them in place, so that,
the yarn will not shift in the lengthwise direction. The firmness of this cross:
cord binding is essential for later design clarity.
‘The final critical stage occurs after dyeing is completed and after all the
leaf bindings have been cut away from the dyed warps. The warp must then
be set up on a stretch frame so that “Iining-up” (pamerangu) can take place.
(Fig. 1). This time-consuming task requires flattening out the bundles of
starched yarn bunched by the former se-bindings, repairing broken and
replacing missing strands and finally, guided by the appearance of the
designs, pulling and pushing strands so that outlines of designs even up. In
ikatting, because of the slight penetration of dye at the edges of the bindings,
a certain blurriness of form is inevitable. Although we find this softness of the
ikatted image pleasing, the Sumbanese place the highest value on precise and
even outlines.
‘The weather influences these various processes — humidity, for example,
affects raw cotton and causes changes in yarn tension, so customarily the
women work in the dry season (May to December). In fact, all textile work
hhas a seasonal schedule. If stretching and tying work is completed in the dry
season, one must wait for the rains of January through March for the indigo
plant to mature before the blue dye can be prepared. Following the blue
dyeing, the oiling of the yarn is done in the next dry season for, during this
process, the yarn requires long exposure to the hot sun. It will be toward the
tend of the second rainy season (April-May), then, before forays to the woods
are undertaken to chop the bark and dig the fine roots of the kombu tree
which will be pounded to make the rust dye solution. The next dry season
provides the right conditions for setting up the loom and if all goes well the
weaving of the four panels is completed before the third rainy season begins.
‘Thus working on an intermittent and seasonal basis, the craftswoman requites
‘two and a half years in order to complete a pair of cloths. In fact, it usually
takes longer because the women like to engage in repeated dippings over more
than one season in order to achieve the favored, saturated color tones.
‘The splendid colors and lively designs of East Sumba mantles appealed
to the former Dutch administrators in Indonesia and, especially in the early
part of the 20th century, they purchased hundreds of Sumba cloths as home
7furnishings and for art collections. Many of these have subsequently found
their way into the museums of Europe and Asia. From these generous
quantities, we know the range of designs and visual types of East Sumba
textiles over the span of the past 100 years.
In America, although Sumba textiles are comparatively rare, some
examples from earlier Dutch collectors have been acquired, as for example,
specimens from the Kerckhoff collection at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts
and from the Tassilo Adam collection at the Brooklyn Museum. In view
of the current improvements in communication within Indonesia, colorful
East Sumba cloths are again reaching art collectors in Java and eventually
will find a wider public. To understand the great variations in style and
fluctuations in quality, it will be useful to survey the circumstances of
production within Sumbanese society and to illustrate both classic and
eccentric features among East Sumba cloths.
‘The most productive coastal area is the district of Kambera which sur-
rounds the northern harbor of Waingapu. The cotton plant has always
thrived on the hot coastal plains; and indigo for the blue dye and kombu
(Ind. mengkudu) bark for the rust dye are plentiful, Today, and probably in
former times in this area, textile work is carried on the year ‘round! Other
coastal areas noted for decorated textile production are the districts of Kana-
tang and Kapunduk to the northwest of Kambera and those of Rende, Melolo,
Mangili and Waidjelo, which extend along the eastern coast to the southern
In the more fertile interior, where most of the population live, ikatting
is forbidden by sacred custom. Because the inhabitants place a high value on
textiles and use them as ritual costume and marriage gifts, however, the
decorated cloths form an important item of exchange which enables the
costal people to obtain food and other resources from the productive inland
regions.
Within East Sumba, the traditional society is stratified into three main
classes: royalty, freeholders and servants. The nobility congregate in fortified
capital villages, usually set on a hilltop; lowerranking people live for most
‘of the year outside the capital in small huts near their fields of rice and corn,
Goastal women of all clases can spin and many know how to bind designs
into yarn. Although most women are familiar with the dye ingredients and
procedures, not many actually practice the skills of blue dyeing, fewer still
rust dyeing, and dye work tends to be centralized around the larger villages
or capitals.
‘The main centers of decorated textile production are the households of
8district rulers. Only high royalty commands the resources, labor and contacts
with the inland needed for producing in quantity. Usually one of the ruler’s
wives or unmarried sisters supervises not only the work —most of which is
done by servants — but she also strongly influences style and favored motifs
for the area. Women from outlying villages who show talent are called in to
live or to work at the capital
From the ample royal stores of decorated textiles, the traditional ruler or
king can provide dramatic costumes not only for his family and relatives but,
also for numerous retainers who perform in the many rituals of the capital.
(Often through royal largesse performers are rewarded with their costumes. The
king's collections are large and varied not only because of the immediate needs
and circumstances of production but also because of the importance of textiles
in a widespread system of gift exchange.
In the traditional economy there are no monies and no markets. Goods,
labor, services and brides are given and received as gifts and, like visits, are
accompanied by an exchange of gifts. Textiles are an important element in all
these exchanges. Because the king is the focus of social, economic and religious
affairs — he is, for example, directly concerned in all marriage negotiations —
there is in his household a constant influx and outflow of textile gifts, many
from other districts. Women from the royal households are given in marriage
to ruling families in other districts and take with them a retinue of household
servants which include craftswomen.
In such a fiuid situation, it is no surprise to find that the textiles of the
entire coast share a compositional system and a common inventory of designs.
However, in each district at any one period, there are certain stylistic features,
which are favored and in some instances differences in color tone which are
due to local dye recipes. These slight differences will “tip off” a resident who
may not even be able to put his finger on just why he has recognized a
certain cloth as from another district.
More obvious than regional style among the textiles is what might be
called class distinction. Inherently expensive objects, decorated textiles are a
form of wealth and a mark of high status. Within the traditional social system
there were “sumptuary laws” regarding dress, that is, rules for the different
classes defining the level of quality for garments and costume details. The finer
the textile, which means that, within the style, the more painstaking, time
consuming and labor-expensive effects are achieved, the higher the prestige.
Textiles directly associated with the king or high nobility are not only longer
and wider than average but also are characterized by special effects in the form
of complex composition, privileged designs, more saturated color and ad-
9ditional finishing touches. Such
(Ind. kain radja) or “royal wrap.’
sutiles are usually called hinggi maramba,
‘These features can be seen in Figure 4-A, a mantle from the Metropolitan
‘Museum collection. First, excellent ikatting, clear and error-free images. The
space is densely filled" with designs of different size and they are elaborated
with fine detail and curvilinear touches, the most difficult to execute well.
Above the top talaba or bordering row, the centerfield exhibits a band of the
privileged design, the patola ratu, one of the several centerfield designs which
could only be worn by high royalty.* This cloth, already old when acquired in
1930, illustrates a good feature of the natural dyes, that is, after many, many
exposures to sun and washings, they fade to beautiful soft tones which some
people find more attractive thar’ the glowing splendor of freshly dyed fabrics.
In other royal cloths, the patola ratu design might extend throughout the
centerfield, but in this example we see an eccentric feature, a white mid-
section ornamented at the center seam with colored, chain-titch embroide
According to the Sumbanese, the white center is another sign of a “royal
cloth. Examples are rare, however, compared to the great number of textiles
exhibiting the privileged schematic designs in the centerfield.
Finally, at the ends of the cloth we see the typical finishing touches, the
neatly corded fringe and above it the woven band which prevents fraying.
Woven on a tiny loom set up with a warp of imported yarn arranged in colored
stripes, the band incorporates the warp fringe of the mantle as an invisible
weft. Further enrichment and show of skill occurs in some examples which
display ikatted or supplemental warp-woven designs in this narrow band.
(Fig. 48).
‘The decorated textiles of East Sumba have also long played a role in an
external luxury trade. Traders from other islands brought foreign luxuries
such as silk textiles, fabries from other islands (especially from the island of
Flores nearby) and metal in the form of knives, spears, copper wire and gold
coins. In exchange, Sumba textiles entered the export market. As early as 100
years ago when the Dutch first posted an agent at the harbor town to try to
collect export duty, records list 100 Sumba cloths exported in one year.
In the early part of the 20th century whep the Dutch expanded their
control over the island and established peaceful conditions, officials and
tourists from ships making regular stops at Waingapu were soon attracted to
the colorfully figured cloths. The 1920's and 30's saw ‘a great expansion of
expoits, Many textiles entered export channels from the royal households of
the several districts but the greatest center of production was in'and around
the port area of Waingapu. There, traders who were foreigners from other
0islands, increased production by supplying cotton yarn for making Sumba
dloths to both local and to resident immigrant women. ‘Thus cloths from
many sources and from all classes flowed into the markets of Djakarta and
The Hague.
What was the effect on textiles of these twoand-ahalf decades of
popularity and of increased production? The basic structure of the traditional
composition and the design inventory remained and the use of natural dyes
was never lost, but imported thread gradually replaced handspun yarn, even
in royal households.
‘The changes in quality that result are those one might expect from
pressure to speed completion of cloths and also from employing immigrant
women: use of larger, simpler motifs and fewer color changes and filling
motifs, thus requiring less tying and less retying. In many cloths ofthis period,
designs lack refinement of shape and the confronting figures within the bands
may be strung out loosely, thereby losing subtleties of arrangement. Worse,
streaking or gaps in the designs may occur resulting from careless tying and
hasty Tining-up. The woven bands and corded fringe disappear, saving time
and pleasing buyers who wanted the textiles to hang evenly as draperies or
coverlets.
However, throughout this period craftswomen produced many beautiful
textiles, such as the example in the Metropolitan Museum collection (Fig. 5),5"
presenting as the main motif a row of graceful deer. The curved, elaborated
head, neck and tail relieve the severe cylindrical form of the body. In the
traditional manner its horns are shown in frontal and profile views. Around the
deer, many small figures of different animals in active poses and changing
color create the lively, variegated effect admired by the Sumbanese. It is a fine
example of an expressive feature, a display of vitality, which the Sumbanese
value in all the arts,
Visitors to the port town in the twenties (as, for example, the artist, W.
Nieuwenkamp, 1920, 1922, or K, Dammerman, 1926) reported the use of
foreign dyes and motifs, such as bicycles or girls with umbrellas ih the export
cloths. No known examples of such eccentric motifs have survived, but a
‘number of cloths dyed with foreign, commercial colors can be seen in various
museum collections. These cloths give evidence of a dyeing system which,
although different from the one described above, is similar to the procedures
used in a few, early 20th-century cloths from the east coastal districts which
already employed dyes of foreign origin.
“This system appears in a hinggi at the Metropolitan Museum, acquired in
1980 (Fig. 6). There is only one ground, a black-brown color, and there are
nno color bands. More striking is that the figures are uniformly a bright yellow.
To achieve this, a different sequence of dyeing is followed. Prior to tying,
all the warp yarn is dyed yellow. After binding, the yellow yarn is put through
only one dye process, that is, for the dark ground. Thus a two-color effect is
achieved by a much simplified, one-time tying procedure which avoids any
removal or retying of bindings during the dye process.
‘What is important to note about the use of commercial dye colors in the
export period, as in those earlier textiles, is that the colors chosen are limited
to yellow, orange and red. These choices suggest that the craftswomen,
although using a quicker, cheaper method, aimed to achieve the warm-toned,
variegated color effects of the traditionally dyed cloths.”
‘One change in the textile situation that stemmed directly from the
presence of the Dutch administration was the release of privileged motifs
Probably these motifs always had circulated to some degree, especially outside
the capital, away from the direct surveillance of the royal families, but, imitated
with impunity under the new authorities, the designs became widely popular,
especially the showpiece, the patola ratu, with its intricate fine lines and
alternation of small color areas. Note the show of skill in a simple trade cloth,
shown in Fig. 7, in which the patola design occupies not only the centerfield
but also the main bands of the endfields.
‘The decades of textile plenty came to an end with World War II which
destroyed the production network {rom workers to traders to shipping lines
through to peddlars to buyers that had sustained exports. After the war and
the revival of cotton planting, Sumbanese women resumed textile work in
response to local needs. Today, Kambera district continues to be the main
center for producing decorated textiles and these, now made of imported yarn,
continue to serve as a form of wealth in the local exchange systems.* From
my recent visits to the districts of Kambera, Melolo, Rende and Kapunduk,
it is clear that the craftswomen in the villages are using traditional tying,
dyeing and weaving methods. Natural dyes are the rule among the Sumbanese.?
‘There are changes, however, and these are in the direction of continued
secularization and simplification of design and subject matter. Comparing a
postwar example with one from the early part of the century provides clear
evidence of these differences. In the early cloth, the main figure is a woman
riding a horse. (Fig. 8). She is seated sideways in the style customary for
Sumbanese women. This image evokes rich, ritual connotations. A woman
rides a horse as part of the royal marriage ceremony and at a royal burial, a
horse is ceremonially ridden around the grave to serve as a psychopomp. In the
postwar textile, collected in 1950 (Fig. 9), the horses, repeated ostentatiously
fon two levels, appear as natural creatures of the mundane world. Their
2physical proportions conform to that of real Sumba ponies and the sole mark
fon each horse is an ownership brand on the flank, a practice introduced by
the Dutch authorities.
Visually, the newer cloth presents less of the internal detail and back-
ground filling characteristic of the early textiles. Attention focusses on the
main figures of the horses which stand out sharply against their ground. The
composition is well-balanced and harmonious but it has lost subtlety. In the
older cloth, many tall, narrow forms and vertical extensions, coupled with the
diagonals of the centerfield, provide countervailing forces to the horizontal
bands. This visual tension moves our interest all over the surface of the cloth.
By contrast, the more recent designer has not only ommitted the vertical
‘elements but also has accentuated the horizontality of the figural rows, thus
producing a simpler, more pedestrian composition.
Further disruption of the traditional style can be seen in a second cloth,
collected on Sumba in 19523, which displays very large snake forms with
centipedellike terminals (Fig. 10). The broader, simpler treatment of the
main figures is readily apparent. At first glance, these heavy forms create a bold
and striking effect but, according to the principles of the traditional style, the
composition as a whole is disharmonious on several counts.
‘The subject changes in each row, and within the third, the confronting.
pairs consist of differently posed animals, so that the total effect on the surface
is one of strong lines leading in various directions. The massive snake forms
and the closed character of the abstract design in the fourth row are too
unlike the other forms which are characterized by small masses or linear
extensions. In sum, the clements of the rows are not designed to produce a
pleasing equilibrium of horizontal and vertical forces.
Among the considerable number of craftswomen at work at present, one
can find better integrated examples, such as the blue mantle still being worn
in Kambera (Fig, 11) which exhibits a traditionally busy, variegated surface
with strong vertical accents. The snake-like forms or dragons dominating the
cloth are large but the mass of the dragon's body is modified by numerous
projections, stich as, feet, forked tail, spikes, mane and horns. Smaller figures
in medium blue, which are surrounding the dragons, provide a further,
graded transition to the dark blue background, thus mediating the stark
effect of figure against ground. This particular cloth was made by the personal
servant of a now-deceased royal wile. In using this active, writhing style,
the servant, as the Sumbanese say, “took the hand” of her mistress.
‘The style illustrates a special or eccentric strain in design which may
appear in any one of the textile districts, that is, the use of actively convoluted
13figures. Whether this is a specialized layer of old tradition or a response to
20th century conditions cannot, for lack of sufficient early evidence, be
answered. However, in this instance, the particularly active pose of the dragon
is probably influenced by images from Chinese porcelains or Dutch imitations
of them, both of which are found in the sacred treasures of the kings of Sumba
and which are indicated as sources of inspiration by some craftswomen. The
theme itself is a traditional one on Sumba. As in many other regions of
Indonesia, the crested or horned fantasy snake (often linked with the sea)
stands for the magical power to acquire great wealth.
Blue ikat cloths are less prestigious than those exhibiting the rust dye,
but elaborately decorated blue mantles are favored as costume by the kings who
themselves rarely wish to don one of the rustred cloths because it reminds
them of the textile gifts and shrouds characteristic of royal burials, Part of the
elaborated decoration may include, as in Fig. 12, figured panels on the lateral
borders of the centerfield and the dyeing of many small designs in rust-red
(hinggi Kombu kawuru) on the blue ground,
‘The major motifs of the textiles appear in less structured compositions
as embellishments of other costume elements in a variety of techniques, such
as beaded ornaments. (Fig. 18), carved turtleshell combs for women (Fig. 14),
engraved drinking bowls of coconut shell (Fig. 15) and gourd lime holders
(Fig. 16a and b). Non-human motifs are tatooed indelibly in blue on the
arms and legs of adult women. The inventory further appears carved in relief
or in the round on beams of house-temples and on stone grave monuments
which stand in the center of the villages, Finally, they are prominent among
the many figurative images in poetry, songs and prayers. In sum, the textile
motifs are major elements in the artistic inventory of the East Sumbanese
people.
‘These images in artistic form are not intended to be seen in daily life;
they are made for use in the ceremonial sphere. It is in this sphere that we can
begin to see their meanings. In ceremonial language, the figures are usually
linked to their place, the shrimp-of-thesea, the deer-of-the.woods, the horse-
on-theslopes, the snake-of-the-forest, the crocodile-of-thesiver and the birds-
of-the-heavens. Depictions of objects, for example, gold headdresses, or qualities,
such as the large size of the centipedes or the intricacy of privileged designs,
are recognized signs of royal wealthand-power which is considered the
foundation and evidence of a good and prosperous society. Other designs
clearly refer to major rituals.
‘These selected symbols represent the Sumbanese ‘universe of concerns,’
concerns which relate to their physical and social worlds. ‘The main‘action the
4Sumbanese take to assure the proper working of this universe and the
harmonious integration of their concerns is community ritual
In communities outside the port-town area, traditional rites are still under-
taken, Some occur in long series over a period of years, such as royal marriage,
royal burial, fertility or temple-building; others arise annually in the form of
planting and harvest festivals. The aims are shared in common, to affect
positively the Sumbanse universe of concerns: that the seasons will take their
proper course, that animals of land, sea, sky and rivers will be abundant, that
plants will be fruitful, that women will give birth, chat children will be
clever, handsome and achieve great name and prosperity, that rituals will be
carried out correctly in the ancient manner, that individual men will agree
For the Sumbanese, the efficacy of ritual lies in the display of vitality it
entails; essentially, this means the presence of many guests who engage in mock
combat, lively dancing, singing, prayers, lifesacrifices and hearty eating. This
vigorous ritual, itis believed, revitalizes the universe.
Representing major aspects of the universe of concerns on the ritual
‘costume of leaders who are holders of power, dancers and warriors symbolically
brings those aspects into active participation at the rites, thus enabling them
to share in the spiritual recharging that is inherent in ritual action.1°
Currently, because of the interest of the porttown authorities in stimu-
lating economic activity in East Sumba, there is talk of increasing the
production of the decorated textiles for sale to export markets and to the
tourists who visit the harbor during the increasing number of ship stopovers.
‘One favored plan is to bring a group of women together daily to work near the
port town under the supervision of an East Sumbanese Christian family.
Until such plans materialize, however, the textiles are still being made
by women living in traditional style in their own small villages. They or their
husbands will occasionally bring the finished cloths into the port town to
exchange for food or other supplies or, more rarely, for money needed to buy
small necessities in the stores. The non-Sumbanese head of the local depart-
ment of industries encourages production, along the lines of the traders of the
twenties, by supplying cotton yarn. Like those traders, too, he leaves the
decoration and structure of the cloths up to the Sumbanese. Thus the designs
still arise, as the Sumbanese say, from the “liver” or heart of the craftswoman.
However, these village women are not only being affected by the gradual
erosion of their own highly-structured societies but they are also responding
to current social pressures and fashions.
8One such fashion in all districts favors increasingly the dramtic use of
white ground in the framing bands, against which the designs appear ‘in the
negative,” that is, in dyed tones, as {or example, rust. To produce this effect,
the bindings for the figural designs in the framing bands are removed before
the rust dye baths, but the ties for the background are not unbound, thus they
remain white throughout the dyeing process. Fig. 17 illustrates an elaborately
designed example collected in 1949.
‘The important new influence sweeping over the island originates from
within Sumba itself in the form of textiles from the southeast district of
Mangili. The cloths employ a fairly constant set of design subjects in a style
of somewhat greater realism than formerly. Usually, against a plain ground,
large roostérs appear between framing bands of horsemen. Locally, Mangili
style is considered the finest because of the use of deeply saturated colors, for
bright red and rich black replace the familiar rust and purplish tones. ‘The
strong colors result from local variations in mixing dyes made from mengkudu
and indigo, longer predye preparation of the yarn (for brightness) and, of
course, repeated dye baths. It is claimed that a good pair requires at least five
years work, In placing highest value on colors, the Sumbanese are employing
4 traditional yardstick of judgment fot the Mangili cloths. The subject matter
is conservative, roosters and the horsemen, who are often shown engaged in
ceremonial dancing,
However, the simplified composition, the prominence of figure against
ground and the realism of portrayal point to widening departure from the
masterpieces of traditional style. In general, in presentday cloths, the rich
variety of the old inventory is gone. Depictions of high peaked house-temples,
skeletal human figures with arms upraised or grinning skulls on dead trees are
rare, Western-influenced immigrants have long derided the Sumbanese for
their lack of ability to draw. Now, in an irony of taste and time, when
Westerners eschew simple naturalism and welcome exotic fantasies, the
Sumbanese are proud of the greater realism of the simple Mangili designs.
16FOOTNOTES
‘Because the left and right panels of each cloth and the upper and lower halves are
‘identical, one quarter of a cloth provides a technically complete repeat. However, including
the conterband is needed to view properly the biaxial design at the center.
2With this number of layers, the main design will appear four times across each cloth
‘The folding varies in some Cases, according to larger or smaller repeats.
Some indigo paste is saved for out-of-season dye work.
‘or dlustrations of the privileged designs see jn the centerfield of Fig. 5, habaku; Fig. 7,
patola ratu; Fig. 8, mata taki, and Fig. 10,
This tet, acquired by the Metropolitan fn,1970 from a Dutch source, i atibuted by
sha aah cin of the tenis on te Una oe asic sas to oer
tenules of that period
Sco, fr eagle the mantle 19862 inthe Museum of Ethology, Rottelam,colleted
between 1908-1513,
dye tine? Were Sut Ey the donor. Reker former nist at
ie aa ges foe teeta dt te
Stl ro ouch Sud aa
feat et ee Stig auc Ste dumes han, e
ringe was | clipped when the new owner added the woven bands.
"Commercial dyes, red, yellow and brown, made available by Chinese merchants, are used
by women from West Suma and other immigrants in making thir own syle of Womens
"Certain images are not usually represented ip the textiles, such as rice, buffalo and pig.
‘This absence is ex Interesting because these are the essential eletients of the food
offering, which is the heart of the sites. Possibly the designers do not inchide these elements
because’ symbols of them, as is aware, are always present at the ritual site, in the
form of buffalo hors, pig jaws and a sacred basket of rice seed.
"NOTE: Because the upper and lower halves of the cloths are identical, all
textiles are shown in ‘optimum view,’ that is, in one-half length plus
full centerband,
Fig, 1. Men's wrap (9814" x 4834"), white cotton dyed in blue and rust colors,
hinggi kombu, Figurative designs obtained by tiedyeing before weaving
(warp ikat technique) . Typical of style known from early 20th century.
Collected on Sumba between 1908-12. Museum of Geography and
Ethnology, Rotterdam, 19882.
189) AE ReccXooe ll
hip
Fig. 2. Men’s wrap, hinggi kombu, (Detail, one-half width). In main band,
large design represents skull tree with human heads; in upper and
lower borders, confronting deer; in the centerfield, confronting horses,
and two vertically oriented rows of birds with open wings who share
a single row of heads. Rotterdam, 19878, early 20th c.
Fig. 8. Single panel for men’s turban or waistcloth. In main band, cocks with
sharply hooked beaks are identified as cockatoos; in fourth row,
rampant lions confront a shield, an adaptation of the Dutch coatof-
arms. Museum of Ethnology, Basel, 117585.
19Fig, 4A. ‘Royal’ wrap, hinggi maramba, (108” x 49"), characterized by precise
lines, fine curvilinear detail, terminal band, corded fringe, privileged
patola ratu design (4th row) and rare white center. Metropolitan
‘Museum, 30.87.10.
20——
4 &
Fig. 4B, Fine hinggi kombu from Kambera district. Narrow band above
fringe, showing dyed designs of horses, half-moons and stars, is woven
in, using the fringe as weft, after the rest of the cloth is finished. It
helps prevent fraying. Reading upwards, we see depictions of a lamba,
which is a gold forehead ornament, preening cockatoos, tiny lizards,
‘foreign fish’ or dragons. Field photograph, 1970, M. Adams.
a2ci
Fig. 6. Typical of a group of Sumba hinggi decorated by simplified tiedyeing.
All designs appear in one color, yellow, against a uniform dark brown,
ground. Lateral striping imitates feature of royal cloths, see Fig. 12.
Metropolitan Museum, 30.87.9. (Detail, one-half width) .
28Fig. 7. Intricate patola ratu design (in two main bands and in centerfield) is
a local modification of patterns on Indian silk patola cloths, which were
essential possessions of Sumbanese royalty. Metropolitan Museum,
0.87.8. (Detail, one-half width).
eyFig. 8. Early 20th c. acqusition. Woman on horseback, shown seated sideways
in riding style customary for Sumbanese women. The many vertical
accents provide a pleasing counterbalance to the horizontal banding.
Centerfield design, mata taki, said to imitate patterns from imported
silk cloths (Indian bandhani, tiedye) . Rotterdam, 19868.
5OP Lee:
GUL HULU gy AM ANN
Fig. 10. Large design combines snake and centipede features. Fourth row
presents blunt version of the dotted karihu design, a former royal
pattern. Collected on Sumba, 1952-3. Rotterdam, 45267.
7Fig. 11. Tkat mantle dyed in two2 1
aa
ot ur ate ae
eet em) LL YY PREY PPV OPO
, |
EE aE Ba SosbtaihedincM i! wld
Da NHL OR aN EN A
Fig. 12. Men’s wrap. This style of
rusts appears onl}
29Fig. 18. Beaded ornament worn at royal burial. Male figure. Such figures, some
‘of which are female, emphasizing hands, feet, head and vital organs,
represent human-kind. Purchased on Sumba, 1910. Rotterdam, 24728,
Fig. 14. Turtleshell comb for women worn on ceremonial occasions. H. 6/4".
Large roosters stand on backs of horses, flanking a central shrimp.
Objects of ritual use share design inventory of textiles. Basel, 1Tc10384.
30Fig. 15, Coconut shell drinking bowl used by dignitaries at ritual meals
Blackened and polished. Engraved designs filled with white lime
powder. Fantasy animal combines head of horse with Sumbanese
version of body and symbols (sword and bunch of arrows) of the lion
from the royal Dutch cost-of-arms. Basel, 11c9746,
31Fig. 16a,b. Engraved gourds for holding lime powder. A bit of lime added to
the chew of betel nut increases the pleasant reaction. Always a
ceremony, betel chewing forms an important part of the symbolism
in all rites. Left, dragon in active pose. Limesflled incising on dark
ground, H. 214”. Right, designs of double-headed bird, bird-on-pole,
deer and snake appear in black (carbon) on light gourd. H. 214".
Basel, 119268 and 11¢9817.
82Fig. 17. For the framing bands, white backgrounds in which figures appear in
color are increasingly popular. That the large crested snakes in this
example are also dyed rust is an eccentric feature. Basel, 11c8705,
collected on Sumba in 1949 by Prof. Alfred Buehler.
33TEXT FOR ILLUSTRATIONS OF IKAT WORK
Field photographs by M. Apams
Fig. A. Setting up warp on tying frame.
Warp strands are being wound around tying frame and at the
same time being separated into odd and even layers needed for
later weaving. The number of strands depends on the desired
width of the panels. Crosswise leaf strip marks off sets of ten pairs
of strands which will form the basic unit for subsequent tying-in
of the designs. Craftswoman, Babang Ata Ende; Village, La Kalu,
Kambera district, 1969.
34B. Installing crossbinding.
Craftswoman firmly knots crosscord around each set (of ten paired
strands) in order to prevent yarn from shifting in lengthwise
direction,
Fig. C. Combining layers for one pair of mantles.
‘The craftswoman superposes several layers of yarn to form a tying
surface on which she can, subsequently, with each single binding
produce identical designs on each layer. The usual width of the
tying surface is half a panel; in which case, four layers form one
cloth and eight layers provide one costume pair.
35Fig. D. Binding with dyexesistant leaf strips.
‘Tying-in the designs is almost completed. The craftswomen always
work at a 45-degree angle to the direction of the designs. Here not
only the white area of the designs but also the bands to become
rusted are covered with bindings to protect them during the
first dye baths which are indigo.
Fig. E. Blue dyeing.
‘After tying in all the designs, the craftswoman soaks the bound
yarn in pots of indigo-blue dye solution. Many dippings and dryings
are needed to produce the desired, saturated color-tones, Crafts-
woman, Rambu Dupa; Village, Uma Bara, Melolo district, 1968.
36Fig. F. Oiling the yarn
After blue dyeing is completed, the bindings on parts to become
red are cut off and the warp is oiled by soaking it in a solution of,
mainly, crushed kemiri nuts. This oiling is esential to obtain a rust
color on cotton using the mengkudu dyewood. Craftswoman,
Konda Ngguna; Village, Parai Wora, Kambera district, 1968.
Fig. G. Rust dyeing
“The roots and bark of the mengkudu tree are crushed with leaves
and bark of the loba tree and soaked in water, thus providing a
rusted dye solution for the bound warp. From three to five dip-
and-dry sequences will produce rich tones. Village, La Marada,
Kambera district, 1968.
a7Fig. H. Removing the leaf bindings.
‘After dyeing is completed, the remaining leaf bindings are cut off,
revealing the designs on the asyetunwoven yarn, Here, the ruler’s
mother and his small daughter who were working on a blue head-
band are joined for the picture by two royal wives. Village,
Rambangaru, Kapunduk district, 1969.
Fig. I. Lining-up dyed warp yam,
Preparatory to weaving, the dyed warp strands are starched and
then painstakingly separated and lined-up so that design outlines
will be clear. Craftswoman, Rambu Windi and Babang; Village,
La Pajeti, Kambera district, 1968.
38Fig. J. Weaving one panel on a frameless, twobeam loom.
‘The weaver depresses the roller and lifts the heddle in order to
form an opening or shed between the odd and even strands of the
yarn, into which she will insert the weft spool to form the weave.
She will beat in the weft with the sword now lying near the body-
beam of the loom. Craftswoman, Ana Hida; Village, La Pajeti,
Kambera district, 1967,
39SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY
‘Adams, M. J.
jfe and Death on Sumba,” exhibition catalog, illus, Museum of
Geography and Ethnology. (Rotterdam, 1965) (English and Dutch text)
issus décorés de I'le de Sumba,” Objets et Mondes, Vol. 6, No. 1. pp.
$18, illus. (Paris, 1966)
System and Meaning in East Sumba Textile Design: A Study in Tra-
ditional Indonesian Art, Southeast Asia Studies, Yale University. (New
Haven, 1969) 248 pp. Illus,
“Approach to Arts and Ceremony, East Sumba, Indonesia,
Anthropologist Newsletter, pp. 5, 20, illus. (March 1971)
American
Buebler, Alfred
“Tkats,” Giba Review, No. 44. (Basel, 1942)
“Sumba-Expedition des Museums fir Volkerkunde . . ." Verhandlungen
der Naturforschenden Gesellschaft, Vol. 62, 64. (Basel, 1951, 1953)
“Patola Influence in Southeast Asia,” Journal of Indian Textile History,
Vol. 4, pp. 1-48. (1959)
Dammerman, K. W.
Een tocht naar Soemba, (Batav
1926)
Jasper, Jen Mas Piringadie
“De Weefkunst,” De Inlandsche Kunstnijuerheid in Nederlandsche-Indie,
Vol. 2. (The Hague, 1912)
Langewis, L. and F. A. Wagner
Decorative Art in Indonesian Textiles. (Amsterdam, 1965)
Nieuwenkamp, W.
“Soemba-Weefsels,” Tijdschrift van het Koninklijk Nederlandsche
Aardrigkskundig Genootschap, Vol. 37, pp. 874-78, 508-13. (1920)
“Tets over Soemba en de Soemba Weefsels,” Nederlandisch-Indie-Oud en
Nieuw, Vol. 7, pp- 295-313. (1922-28)
Nooteboom, C.
“De Kleurenpracht van Soemba-weelsels,” Gids van de tentoonstelling,
‘Textile-Muscum. (Tilburg, Netherlands, 1958)
40BOOK NOTES
‘TRADE GOODS: by Alice Beer. (Smithsonian Institution Press—1970).
ORIGINS OF CHINTZ: by John Irwin & Katherine B. Brett. (London,
Her Majesty's Stationery Office, 1970)
Nowadays, when the swift currents of international trade carry Coca Cola
and sophisticated weaponry eastward, and transistor radios and automobiles
westward, it is exciting to look back on the slow and laborious traffic that trans-
ported the ancient crafts of the East to Europe in past centuries. Then, the
articles of trade were the subtle and delicate porcelains and silks from China,
scented with the redolent spices of the Southeastern Islands, and the brilliant
unfading chintzes of India.
In 1970, that bountiful year for lovers of decorated cottons (painted,
printed and embroidered) we were treated to three comprehensive and
extraordinarily beautiful exhibitions of Indian chintzes made for the Western
‘market. These were held in Toronto at the Royal Ontario Museum in New
York at the Cooper Hewitt Museum and in London at the Victoria and Albert
‘Museum, The curators at the Royal Ontario Museum and the Victoria and
Albert Museum, Mrs. Katherine B. Brett and John Irwin in the “Origins of
Chintz” and Alice Beer in “Trade Goods” have compiled two brilliant
catalogues, which are not only a permanent record of the exhibitions, but of
the investigations and research that inspired them. Not since the impressive
pioneering work on “Calico Painting & Printing in the East Indies” published
by G. P. Baker in 1921, has so much new information been available on the
intricacies of manufacture, the subtle interchanges of design, and the com:
plicated series of trade exchanges that brought these treasures to a Europe
‘expanding the frontiers of its knowledge through travel and adventure.
It would be hard for us today to overestimate the impact of these
products of the East on the Western imagination, but the textiles remain now
fully catalogued and illustrated to inspire the designer and collector. (Alas
for the collector, though, this material is practically non-existent on the market
today.)
—Cora Ginsburg
41