The Common Thread © FHG New ApproAches iN ArchAeology Volume 3 General Editor Paul S. Johnson, University of Nottingham Editorial Board Marianne Hem Eriksen, University of Leicester Lara Fabian, University of California, Los Angeles Linda Gosner, Texas Tech University Christopher Loveluck, University of Nottingham Cheryl Makarawicz, University of Kiel Dimitrij Mlekuž, University of Ljubljana © FHG The Common Thread Collected Essays in Honour of Eva Andersson Strand Edited by Ulla Mannering, Marie-Louise Nosch, and Anne Drewsen F © FHG British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. This article/publication is based upon work from COST Action Euroweb CA 19131, supported by COST (European Cooperation in Science and Technology). COST (European Cooperation in Science and Technology) is a funding agency for research and innovation networks. Our Actions help connect research initiatives across Europe and enable scientists to grow their ideas by sharing them with their peers. This boosts their research, career and Innovation. www.cost.eu © 2024, Brepols Publishers n.v., Turnhout, Belgium. This is an open access publication made available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International Licence: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/ by-nc/4.0/. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, for commercial purposes, without the prior permission of the publisher, or as expressly permitted by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. D/2024/0095/234 ISBN 978-2-503-61277-5 E-ISBN 978-2-503-61278-2 DOI 10.1484/M.NAA-EB.5.138139 Printed in the EU on acid-free paper. Previously published books are listed at the end of the book © FHG Table of Contents Preface 1 1. 3 In the Beginning… Anne Drewsen, Mary Harlow, Ulla Mannering, and Marie-Louise Nosch I. Textiles and Tools 2. Ragpickers Critiquing the Third Science Revolution with Walter Benjamin Tim Flohr Sørensen 11 3. Textile Analysis in Europe Current Practices and Future Prognosis Margarita Gleba, Susanna Harris, and Jane Malcolm-Davies 25 4. From Fleece to Thread Interdisciplinary Evidence for the Origins of Sheep Wool Laura C. Viñas-Caron, Mikkel Nørtoft, Peder Flemestad, Jonas Holm Jæger, and Christina Margariti 33 5. An Arctic Thread Mikkel Sørensen 61 6. The Beginnings of Clothing Experiments in Near Eastern Archaeology Catherine Breniquet and Cécile Michel 71 7. Fløjstrup — A Viking Age Grave with Early Silk Charlotte Rimstad, Irene Skals, and Ina Vanden Berghe 79 8. The Importance of Understanding Textile Tools Francesco Meo 95 9. Making Visible the Invisible The Case Study of Clay Sealings from Arslantepe (Turkey) Romina Laurito © FHG 107 II. Craft and Craft Traditions 10. Textile Workshops in the Nile Valley? Questioning the Concepts and Sources Chiara Spinazzi-Lucchesi and Elsa Yvanez 117 11. Sprang Hairnets from Prehistoric Denmark and Byzantine Egypt Experimental Research Anne Kwaspen, Ida Demant, and Johanne Høgh 133 12. Spinning Fates and the Fate of Spinning Towards a Nordic Textile Technical Terminology Morten Grymer-Hansen and Susanne Lervad 147 13. Teaching and Disseminating Textile Archaeology in University and Museum Contexts Lise Bender Jørgensen and Karina Grömer 157 14. Weaving Pictures Evoking a World from Threads Ulrikka Mokdad 171 15. Beyond Traditions Rethinking Textile Crafts and Heritage Magali-An Berthon 181 III. Identity and Status 16. Stitch and Status An Analysis of the Expression of Worldviews through Knitted Garments Maj Ringgaard and Tove Engelhardt Mathiassen 191 17. The Combat Agate and the Tartan-Like Textiles of the Aegean Kalliope Sarri 201 18. Textiles in Etruscan Dance The Case of the Tomba del Triclinio in Tarquinia Audrey Gouy 209 19. Reading the Roman Toga from Sculpture Mary Harlow and Lena Larsson Lovén 225 20. Two Donkey Burials Ulla Lund Hansen and Anne Drewsen 231 21. Embellished Clothing in the Mesolithic Based on Finds from Two Cemeteries in Sweden Lars Larsson 239 22. Sequins and Other ‘Bling’ in Viking Age Fashion Charlotte Hedenstierna-Jonson, Marianne Vedeler, and Amica Sundström† 247 23. One Silk Textile — Multiple Histories and Her-Stories Ulla Mannering and Marie-Louise Nosch 255 © FHG List of Illustrations 1. In the Beginning… — Anne Drewsen, Mary Harlow, Ulla Mannering, and Marie-Louise Nosch Figure 1.1. The auroch bone from Ryemarksgård near Jyderup on West Zealand, Denmark, with an incised depiction of five human figures. It has been argued that the figures represent pregnant women, but they are without doubt dressed. The bone is 14C-dated to c. 8000 bce. Figure 1.2. This piled cap from Trindhøj in Southern Jutland, Denmark was excavated in 1861. It measures 15 cm in height and 56 cm in circumference. The grave is dated by dendrochronology to 1347 bce. We could call this the world’s first ‘fake fur’. Figure 1.3. Eve spinning with a distaff, with two children in her lap and two in a cradle, which she rocks with her feet. Fresco, c. 1350, from the church at Kirkerup near Roskilde, Denmark. 4 5 5 2. Ragpickers — Tim Flohr Sørensen Figure 2.1. Flax carbonised, pachypasa otus, silk saturnia pyri, goat untreated. Figure 2.2. Wool. Figure 2.3. Cotton. 12 19 20 3. Textile Analysis in Europe — Margarita Gleba, Susanna Harris, and Jane Malcolm-Davies Figure 3.1. A scanning electron microscope (SEM) image of a spliced thread from Must Farm, UK. Figure 3.2. Digital microscopy is used to analyse textile and yarn structures. 27 29 4. From Fleece to Thread — Laura C. Viñas-Caron, Mikkel Nørtoft, Peder Flemestad, Jonas Holm Jæger, and Christina Margariti Figure 4.1. Overview of confirmed finds of ovine wool in Western Eurasia, coloured by chronology. Figure 4.2. Scheme showing the two different PIE verbs meaning ‘to pluck’ and the two different derived words denoting ‘fleece/wool’ and language branches where they are attested, following the ‘steppe’ model. Figure 4.3. Ancient mtDNA haplogroups A, B, C, D, and E reported in archaeological sites according to years (bce/ce). Table 4.1. All confirmed sheep-wool finds with a mean date earlier than 1800 bce. 5. An Arctic Thread — Mikkel Sørensen Figure 5.1. The understanding of artefacts as parts of chaînes opératoires, and the connection between a social group and the artefacts and their knowledge concept for the craft production. Figure 5.2. A model for analysing an artefact material in a Technological study. The goal of the model is to reach an anthropological level through a chaîne opératoire analysis of an artefact material and an interpretation of the production concept. Environmental constraints and individual factors are included in the model. Figure 5.3. Illustration and textile analysis of cordage from the Middle Dorset site Avayalik in Northern Labrador, Canada. Table 5.1. An analysis and comparison of the textile technology from Dorset and Norse contexts based on published studies of Arctic textile related to the discussion of the Dorset Culture. The underlinings represent the majority finds. © FHG 35 38 41 36 62 63 65 66 viii li s t o f il lu s trat i o n s 6. The Beginnings of Clothing Experiments in Near Eastern Archaeology — Catherine Breniquet and Cécile Michel Figure 6.1. Men: Gudea’s dress. A) The way the toga was draped on the body. B) Gudea, statue B said ‘L’architecte au plan’ (Louvre AO 2), Telloh, c. 2120–2110 bce, h: 0.93 cm. C) Wax model used for the Exposition Universelle of 1889. ‘Histoire du Travail et des Sciences Anthropologiques. Section I, Anthropologie, ethnographie, archéologie’. D). The live model in 1926. Figure 6.2. Women: the ‘Femme à l’écharpe’ dress. A) The ‘Femme à l’écharpe’ (Louvre AO 295), Telloh, c. 2120–2110 bce, h: 17.8 cm. B) The first live model, as seen from face and back. C) The second live model. 7. Fløjstrup — A Viking Age Grave with Early Silk — Charlotte Rimstad, Irene Skals, and Ina Vanden Berghe Figure 7.1. Textile type 1, an unbalanced tabby sitting on a human bone (C9266a), overview and detail. Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.2. Textile type 2, a combination of twill and tabby (C9266b), overview and detail Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.3. The pear-shaped brooch (C9260), made of a reused key, front and back. Details of the tabby/ twill textile (textile type 2) (lower left) and the tabby textile (textile type 3) stuck to the needle (lower right). Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.4. Fragments of textile 3, a flax tabby (C9266c), overview and detail. Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.5. One of the oval brooches (C9261), outside and inside with textile remains. a) Tabby textile on the rim of the oval brooch (textile type 3). b) Unbalanced tabby textile inside of the brooch (textile 1?). c) Remains of a strap in tabby (textile type 4). d) A small cord sitting around the needle (textile type 6). Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.6. The other oval brooch (C9262), outside and inside with textile remains. Detail of the tabby textile on the needle (textile 3). Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.7. A small fragment of samite silk, 0.8. mm wide (textile type 5), overview and detail. Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.8. Another fragment of samite silk (Ad C9266b), sitting on textile 2. Copenhagen, The National Museum of Denmark. Ninth century. Figure 7.9. The cumulative frequency curves representing the warp and weft from textile type 1, C9266a, are very similar and indicative of similar wool and processing. The equivalent curves representing textile type 2 (C9266b), have steeper curves indicative of differences in the processing, and they are separated by a small gap, which could suggest difference in warp and weft. Figure 7.10. A schematic interpretation of how the six different textiles could be connected in the Fløjstrup grave. Table 7.1. Overview of the textile remains in the Fløjstrup grave. Table 7.2. The results from textile type 1, C9266a, are characterized by large fibre content in both the fine and medium ranges, while textile type 2, C9266b, has a larger majority of fibres in the fine range and a smaller content of medium fibres. All four yarns have small contents of coarse fibres. Table 7.3. Overview of dye samples from the Fløjstrup grave. 8. The Importance of Understanding Textile Tools — Francesco Meo Figure 8.1. South Italy with the two sites analysed in the article. Figure 8.2. Groups of textile tools from three tombs of Incoronata-San Teodoro necropolis. Figure 8.3. Typical assemblage of textile tools discovered in Canale Ianchina tombs: some spools and spindle whorls, sometimes with one or a number of heavy and big decorated weights. Figure 8.4. Canale Ianchina, Tomb 33. Possible set of spools and histograms of fabric qualities from the set both with two and four rows of weights in a warp-weighted loom. Figure 8.5. Canale Ianchina, Tomb 108. Possible set of spools and histograms of fabric qualities from the set both with two and four rows of weights in a warp-weighted loom. © FHG 74 75 82 82 83 83 84 85 85 86 86 89 81 87 88 96 98 99 100 101 li st o f i llu strations 9. Making Visible the Invisible — Romina Laurito Figure 9.1. The technical data sheet of the Paraloid B72 and the main steps followed by restorers at Arslantepe. Figure 9.2. a) Clay sealing c2837 from Arslantepe. b) Replica in coloured gypsum of the same clay sealing. Note the string and the textile on the underside and a finger imprint above the seal impression on the front side. Figure 9.3. a–b). Imprints of folded cloth and twisted strings from two clay sealings obtained with the liquid silicone Provil. c). Morphology of seal incisions observed on seal impressions from Arslantepe VI A. 109 110 111 10. Textile Workshops in the Nile Valley? — Chiara Spinazzi-Lucchesi and Elsa Yvanez Figure 10.1. Different organizational modes of textile production, based on Viking and medieval evidence. 118 Figure 10.2. Map of major sites mentioned in the text. 119 Figure 10.3. Reconstruction of a textile production scene, from the 18th dynasty tomb of Djehutynefer (TT104). 120 Figure 10.4. Wooden spindles from Gurob: 1) Manchester Museum 523, 2) Manchester Museum 526, 3) Petrie Museum UC 7809. 121 Figure 10.5. Textiles from Deir el-Medina: details from one of the large sheets studied during the 2022 excavation, with faults and irregular weaving. 123 Figure 10.6. Spinning and weaving tools from Shokan, F 1964/5.54, National Museum of Antiquities, Leiden. 124 Figure 10.7. Textile tools from House 1200: a) clay loom weights in situ in the north-west corner of room 1244 and b) four spindle whorls found in diverse rooms among occupation and construction/ debris layers. 126 Figure 10.8. Cotton textile from the royal cemetery of Meroe, with detail of tapestry patterns (photos on the right produced with Dinolite digital microscope, ×45). Boston Museum of Fine Arts 23.812. 127 11. Sprang Hairnets from Prehistoric Denmark and Byzantine Egypt — Anne Kwaspen, Ida Demant, and Johanne Høgh Figure 11.1. Diagram of the basic sprang structures interlinking and interlacing. 134 Figure 11.2. A, top left) Purple hairnet FeG-1992-SW-39.1; Yellow hairnet FeG-1992-SW-39.5; Yellow hairnet FeG-1992-SW-39.11; Red hairnet FeG-1992-SW-39.19a. B, top right) Borum Eshøj hairnet. C, bottom left) Bredmose hairnet. D, bottom right) Haraldskær hairnet. 135 Figure 11.3. Diagram of the lacing of the drawstring in the sprang structure of the Egyptian hairnets. 136 Figure 11.4. Top) Sculpture 66.25, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Cloisters Collection. Fitting of reconstruction hairnet FeG-1992-SW-39.5 with gathered circle on top of head. 136 Figure 11.5. Reconstruction of Bredmose hairnet. 138 Figure 11.6. Reconstruction of hairnet FEG 1992-SW-39.1. 138 Figure 11.7. Reconstruction Borum Eshøj hairnet. 139 Figure 11.8. Reconstruction of Haraldskær hairnet. 139 Figure 11.9. a–b: Fitting of the reconstruction of hairnet FEG 1992-SW-39.1 with gathered circle on top of the head. 140 Figure 11.10. a–b: Fitting of the reconstruction of Bredmose hairnet with gathered circle at the back of the head. 140 Figure 11.11. a–b: Fitting of the reconstruction of Haraldskær hairnet with gathered circle on top of the head. c–d: Fitting of the reconstruction of Haraldskær hairnet with gathered circle at the back of the head. 141 Figure 11.12. a–b: Fitting of the reconstruction of Borum Eshøj hairnet with gathered circle on top of the head. c–d: Fitting of the reconstruction of Borum Eshøj hairnet with gathered circle placed in the back, covering the hair bun. e–f: Fitting of the reconstruction of Borum Eshøj hairnet with gathered circle at the lower back of the head, the net covering the unbraided hair. 142 12. Spinning Fates and the Fate of Spinning — Morten Grymer-Hansen and Susanne Lervad Figure 12.1. First page of Agnes Geijer’s letter to Margrethe Hald, 1938 in the National Museum of Denmark. 148 Figure 12.2. Second page of Agnes Geijer’s letter to Margrethe Hald, 1938 in the National Museum of Denmark. 149 © FHG ix x li s t o f il lu s trat i o n s 13. Teaching and Disseminating Textile Archaeology in University and Museum Contexts — Lise Bender Jørgensen and Karina Grömer Figure 13.1. Lise Bender Jørgensen demonstrates spinning to children at the National Museum of Denmark 1974. Figure 13.2. Students combing wool (left) and trying a spinning wheel (right). Figure 13.3. Natural History Museum Vienna, ‘Changing Room 2.0’ at Hall 13. Left: face of the boy to be morphed into the image of an Early Medieval warrior. Right: selection panel of costumes available. Figure 13.4. Historical Fashion Show in London. Figure 13.5. Pinterest page with the pin ‘Hallstatt tablet weaving’. Figure 13.6. Various teaching and dissemination strategies for archaeological textile research. 14. Weaving Pictures — Ulrikka Mokdad Figure 14.1. Tove Heyman 1979. Figure 14.2. Bars May Bind the Body but Swift Flies the Spirit, a tapestry in the making. Figure 14.3. K’o-ssy or kesi weaving. Figure 14.4. Museo Egizio tapestry, and detail of same from the tomb of architect Kha AN 8528. Figure 14.5. Atelje 61 weavers Zsuzsanna Tóth Vanger and Milica Kovač in action. Figure 14.6. (Left) Measurements of the brain’s electrical voltage for Eva Andersson Strand while spinning. (Right) The woven version with changed colours. 15. Beyond Traditions — Magali-An Berthon Figure 15.1. Devata (celestial being) wearing lightweight patterned silk skirt on a bas-relief in Angkor Wat, Siem Reap, twelfth century. Figure 15.2. Photographer Léon Busy, Cambodia, Phnom Penh, Woman sitting in front of a stilt house, reference A70460X, Musée Albert Kahn, Boulogne-Billancourt, France, 1921. Figure 15.3. French colonial postcard of a photograph showing the silk spinning and weaving workshop at the School of Cambodian Arts in Phnom Penh, c. 1924. Figure 15.4. A silk sampot hol woven onto the loom at home, Samraong District, Takeo province. Figure 15.5. Weaver working on an indigo-dyed pidan at the Caring for Young Khmer weaving centre, Trapaing Krasaing, Takeo province. 16. Stitch and Status — Maj Ringgaard and Tove Engelhardt Mathiassen Figure 16.1. A pair of sixteenth-century liturgical gloves, hand-knitted from red silk and silver strip wrapped yellow silk in the patterns. Liturgical gloves were part of the pontifical insignia that the pope gave permission to wear to bishops and cardinals. Figure 16.2. A silk knitted waistcoat from the mid-seventeenth century. The waistcoat is knitted with an all-over pattern of stars and grid in reverse loops. Rich embroidery on front, back, and sleeves in silver and gilded metal thread and spangles. Figure 16.3. Hand knitted sweaters, most often in traditional Norwegian style, became the attire for skiing. The sweaters were often worn with a light jacket, as a windbreaker, while skiing and alone for after-ski. Figure 16.4. The photo at the front page of Hønsestrik 2 is taken at the wedding of Susanne Bergmann and Gunnar Stein, 6 April 1974, at the town hall of Elsinore. Kirsten Hofstätter and her son Thibaud are standing to the bride’s right side. Hofstätter is wearing a hønsestrik waistcoat with striped straps; her name knitted at the top and the female symbol in staggered rows. 17. The Combat Agate and the Tartan-Like Textiles of the Aegean — Kalliope Sarri Figure 17.1. A, left) The Combat Agate. B, right) Detail of the Combat Agate. Figure 17.2. The Combat Agate, drawing. Figure 17.3. Faience depiction of a sacred knot from Tomb IV in Mycenae. © FHG 159 160 161 162 163 165 172 173 174 174 175 177 183 184 185 186 186 193 194 195 196 202 203 204 li st o f i llu strations 18. Textiles in Etruscan Dance — Audrey Gouy Figure 18.1. Tomba del Triclinio, Tarquina, walls (above and below). Paintings removed in 1949. Now in the Archaeological Museum in Tarquinia, Italy. Dated from 470 bce. Figure 18.2. Relief from Chiusi, Italy. Palermo, National Museum (inv. No. 8435). Fifth century bce. Figure 18.3. Carved funerary base from Chiusi, Italy. Copenhagen, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (inv. No. H 205). Fifth century bce. Figure 18.4. Relief from Chiusi, Italy. Paris, Musée du Louvre (inv. No. 3602). Fifth century bce. Figure 18.5. Carved funerary base from Chiusi, Italy. Florence, Archaeological Museum (inv. No. 93488). Fifth century bce. Figure 18.6. Carved sarcophagus from Chiusi, Italy. London, British Museum (inv. No. D10). Fifth century bce. Figure 18.7. Carved funerary base from Chiusi, Italy. Palermo, National Museum (inv. No. 8385). Fifth century bce. Figure 18.8. Tomba del Gallo, located in the Monterozzi necropolis, Tarquinia, Italy. c. 400 bce. Detail of left wall. Figure 18.9. Tomba delle Leonesse, located in the Monterozzi necropolis, Tarquinia, Italy. c. 520 bce. Back wall. Figure 18.10. Carved funerary base from Chiusi, Italy. Baltimore, The Walters Art Museum (inv. No. 23.13). Fifth century bce. Figure 18.11. Bronze thymiaterion, from Vulci. London, British Museum (inv. No. Br 598). Dated from the end of the sixth century bce. Table 18.1. Typology of female dress in Etruscan representations of ecstatic dance. Table 18.2. Typology of male dress in Etruscan representations of ecstatic dance. Table 18.3. Differences in female dress according to liminal and post-liminal stages in Etruscan dance rituals. 19. Reading the Roman Toga from Sculpture — Mary Harlow and Lena Larsson Lovén Figure 19.1. Togatus, first century bce. Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv.no. 1950. Figure 19.2. Togatus from the Augustan period (c. 31 bce – 14 ce). Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv no. 2596. Figure 19.3. Detail of togatus in Fig. 19.2, from the Augustan period (c. 31 bce – 14 ce). Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv no. 2596. Figure 19.4. Detail of togatus in Fig. 19.1, first century bce. Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv. no. 1950. 20. Two Donkey Burials — Ulla Lund Hansen and Anne Drewsen Figure 20.1. Donkeys and handler from the tomb relief of Seschemnofer, fifth dynasty, c. 2430 bce, Giza (ÄM 1129, Neues Museum Berlin). Figure 20.2. An overview of the excavation of the settlement Smedegård. The settlement was excavated in 1993–1994 and divided into 6 phases (Phase 1 c. 350/300 bce–150 bce to Phase 6 c. ce 1–105/160 ce) which falls into two main periods with a destruction phase late in the Pre-Roman Iron Age (c. 130/100 bce–50 ce). Farms and houses in the early part of the village are small compared to the later ones. Figure 20.3. From the Varus/Kalkriese battle in the south near the Elben River, to Smedegård in the north of Jutland is journey of over 600 km, which at 20 km a day would take a month to complete Figure 20.4. Equid metatarsals from Smedegård. The right is ascribed to the domestic horse (E. caballus) whereas the left represents the first Danish subfossil find of the donkey. Figure 20.5. A) The almost complete skeleton of a rooster (Gallus domesticus) from the Early Iron Age settlement Smedegård in Northern Denmark. B) Both tarsometatarsals with well-developed spurs were retrieved from the site. © FHG 211 214 214 214 215 215 215 216 217 218 219 212 212 217 226 226 227 229 232 233 234 235 236 xi xii li s t o f il lu s trat i o n s 21. Embellished Clothing in the Mesolithic Based on Finds from two Cemeteries in Sweden — Lars Larsson Figure 21.1. Around a woman’s hip in Grave VIII, Skateholm II. More than a hundred tooth beads were found from about thirty deer. Figure 21.2. Grave 6, Skateholm I, with a woman in a sitting position. On her hip, several tooth beads of wild boar were found. On top of these the skeleton of a new-born child or an almost full-term foetus was found. The baby may have lain in a richly decorated pouch. Figure 21.3. Grave XV, Skateholm II, with a man with red deer tooth beads across the skull. Figure 21.4. The accumulation of dental beads from red deer and wild boar and a non-perforated porpoise tooth lay next to the hand of a man in Grave 53, Skateholm I. Figure 21.5. A woman was provided with pendants of amber and red deer teeth that remained in the jaw section of a red deer in Grave 46. They may have sat like a necklace or at the top of the chest. 22. Sequins and Other ‘Bling’ in Viking Age Fashion — Charlotte Hedenstierna-Jonson, Marianne Vedeler, and Amica Sundström Figure 22.1. Plan of chamber burial Bj832 by Harald Olsson, based on the original field documentation. Figure 22.2. Textile fragment from Bj 832 with knotted border, embroidered with silver and inserted discs of mica on fine taffeta silk. Figure 22.3. Embroidered deer in gold thread with silver passementeries, and fragmented embroidery in gold and mica pieces, and below loose sequins in mica and stone. 23. One Silk Textile — Multiple Histories and Her-Stories — Ulla Mannering and Marie-Louise Nosch Figure 23.1. Photo of King Canute’s remains in the shrine and with pillow under the skull. Figure 23.2. Technical drawings of the Birds-and-Hearts Silk fabric, how it was cut and mounted for the pillow. Figure 23.3. Technical drawings of the Birds-and-Hearts Silk fabric, and its possible original size. Figure 23.4. The backside of the pillow before restoration in 1934. Figure 23.5. The sample of the Birds-and-Hearts Silk fabric from the Steenstrup Collection in the National Museum of Denmark. A) front side, B) back side. Figure 23.6. Technical drawing of the Birds-and-Hearts motif. Figure 23.7. Colour illustration of the Birds-and-Hearts Silk fabric made by Magnus Petersen in 1886. Figure 23.8. Painting from the mid-seventeenth century in the church of Santa Maria della Traspontina in Rome, depicting King Canute in a large blue mantle lined with luxurious white ermine fur with hanging black-tipped tails. Danish author Hans Christian Andersen (1842, 187) visited the chapel and recalled his childhood in Odense and his memories of Saint Canute’s cathedral. Artist: Daniel Sayter (1647–1705) from 1686. Figure 23.9. The so-called Dagmar cross unearthed in a tomb in Saint Bendt’s Church in Ringsted in 1683 and handed in to the Royal Cabinet of Curiosities in 1695. Figure 23.10. Official coronation photo of Queen Alexandra 1902. Figure 23.11. Detail of official coronation photo of Queen Alexandra 1902 wearing the Dagmar cross hanging over her waist line. Figure 23.12. The Birds-and-Hearts design in silk embroidery executed by Nanna Ring. Designmuseum Danmark. Figure 23.13. Modern machine-woven 2023 copy of the Birds-and-Hearts Silk fabric by KazarBazar. Table 23.1. Technical details of the Birds-and-Hearts Silk samite taken from published sources and new measurements on the sample from Steenstrup’s Collection. © FHG 240 241 241 241 243 248 249 250 257 258 258 259 259 260 260 261 262 263 263 264 265 259 Preface This book has a dual purpose. On the one hand it is a tribute to a dear colleague, Professor Eva Andersson Strand, from the University of Copenhagen (UCPH) in Denmark, and on the other hand a showcase for the enormous potential of textile research. The initiative for this book was taken in 2022 by the three editors, Professor Marie-Louise Nosch, Research Professor Ulla Mannering and Anne Drewsen MA and independent researcher, and we thank Rosie Bonté, the publishing manager from Brepols for her enthusiasm in publishing the volume. To help in the initial process and recruitment of contributors, an advisory board was constituted, consisting of: Professor Cécile Michel, CNRS Paris (Assyriology), Professor Marianne Vedeler, University of Oslo (Viking Age and Early Medieval Archaeology), Dr Christina Margariti, Directorate of Conservation, Hellenic Ministry of Culture (Conservation), Dr Chiara Spinazzi-Lucchesi, University of Copenhagen (Near Eastern and Egyptian Studies), Associate Professor Elsa Yvanez, University of Copenhagen (Nubian and Egyptian textiles), social anthropologist and independent researcher Tove Engelhardt Mathiassen, Denmark (Modern Textiles), Dr Magdalena Öhrman, University of Wales, Trinity St David (Classical Philology and Roman Textiles), Associate Professor (retired) Mary Harlow (Ancient Roman Textiles) and Associate Professor Emerita Ulla Lund Hansen (Danish Iron Age Archaeology). We thank Tilde Yding Abrahamsen, the Student Assistant and archaeology student employed at the National Museum of Denmark, for her careful style guide corrections of all texts, and we extend our gratitude to the following public and private foundations for supporting the book financially: The SAXO Institute, UCPH The National Museum of Denmark The COST Action EuroWeb Elisabeth Munksgaard Fonden University of Glasgow, Arts and Humanities Research Council 634: Unwrapping the Galloway Hoard (AHRC AH/T012218/1) TEX-KR, EU Marie Sklodowska-Curie project (101025131) University of Uppsala: The Viking Phenomenon Research Project (VR 2015-00466) Hellenic Foundation for Research and Innovation and the University of Peloponnese: FAROS. The Fabric of Kings: Funerary Textile Remains from Mycenae and the Early Mycenaean Textile Production (7354) ERC Fashioning Sudan (101039416) ERC Beasts to Craft (787282) Copenhagen, September 2024 Anne Drewsen, Ulla Mannering & Marie-Louise Nosch © FHG © FHG Mary Harlow and lena larsson lovén 19. Reading the Roman Toga from Sculpture A bs t r Act As historians of dress, we bring the methodologies from our own disciplines to our approaches to our subject matter. Together, the authors have expertise in using both visual and textual evidence to interpret ancient Roman society. Looking at dress, however, ideally requires a knowledge of textiles and textile production to fully understand the implications of visual and textual manifestations of clothing. This brief chapter uses two togate statues from the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen as vehicles to show how our ‘ways of seeing’ have been altered by a better understanding of ancient textile production. T K e y wo r d s toga, Republican, Imperial, sculpture, starting border, textile archaeology, visual representations T This jointly authored chapter is written to demonstrate the value of learning from the expertise of colleagues, in this case specifically the field of textile archaeology. We write as ancient historians with expertise in textual and visual interpretations of the ancient world but whose view of that world has been enhanced and to a large extent ‘rewritten’ by a belated integration of archaeological textiles into our ‘ways of seeing’. Our point of departure is two togate statues in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, which demonstrate how our approach to the sources for this iconic male Roman wardrobe item has been given ‘added value’ through a better understanding of textile production and its potential. A salutary reminder that we are never too old to learn new approaches and methodologies. The Toga The toga is the garment which, rightly or wrongly, we identify closely with the Romans and Roman citizenship.1 We see it on statues and reliefs in museums and galleries across the world, and in popular culture the white-draped figure is often a shorthand for classical antiquity; at the other end of the media spectrum perhaps, ‘the toga party’ is still a frequent theme of student events. The toga, however we understand it, has a central place in the modern western view of antiquity. Looking beneath this veneer of understanding, we discover a garment 1 In 1924 Lillian Wilson published a first comprehensive study of the toga. For a recent and detailed study of the Roman toga in both texts and images see Rothe 2020. Mary Harlow • (
[email protected]) Ancient historian with focus on dress and age and ageing; retired Associate Professor of Ancient History, now Honorary Lecturer, University of Leicester, UK. Lena Larsson Lovén • (
[email protected]) Ancient historian with focus on art history, dress in visual culture, age and ageing; Professor in Classical Archaeology & Ancient History, Department of Historical Studies at the University of Gothenburg, Sweden. The Common Thread: Collected Essays in Honour of Eva Andersson Strand, ed. by Ulla Mannering, Marie-Louise Nosch, and Anne Drewsen, NAA, 3 (Turnhout, 2024), pp. 225–230. FHG DOI 10.1484/M.NAA-EB.5.141767 This is an open access chapter made available under a CC BY-NC 4.0 International Licence. © FHG 2 26 ma ry ha r low an d l e n a l ar s s o n lové n Figure 19.1. Togatus, first century bce. Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv.no. 1950. Photo by Lena Larsson Lovén. Figure 19.2. Togatus from the Augustan period (c. 31 bce – 14 ce). Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv no. 2596. (Photo by Mary Harlow.) which changed over time, which accrued symbolism and power: according to Virgil and Augustan propaganda, the Romans were the gens togata, the toga-wearing people destined to rule the world (Virg. Aen. 1.282). As an item of clothing which was imbued with authority and status, it is not surprising that so many chose to be represented in it.2 In ancient contexts, the toga existed in many different varieties, but it was always made of wool. It was mainly worn by adult men of citizen status and the most common toga type was the toga virilis — an undyed and undecorated clothing item, draped around the male body.3 a toga — and these examples from the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek are excellent case studies for considering how we might approach ancient evidence. As in these two examples, a togatus generally represents a full figure, free-standing sculpture but the motif of men dressed in togas occurs in other variants too, for instance, in portrait busts and reliefs. They all testify to the importance of the toga. Regardless of the artistic genre, the basic message of a togatus is that of an adult male Roman citizen reflecting auctoritas (authority and influence). From the later first century bce onwards, the toga was a large, elliptical garment worn draped around the body, usually over a tunic. One side was draped over the left shoulder, with the straight edge reaching down the front of the body (this edge can just be seen by the foot of the statue in Fig. 19.2). The fabric would then be gathered up, over the left shoulder, and brought around the back of the body. In both the versions here, the left arm carries some of weight and mass of the material, although the left hand (missing in both these statues) would be left free for practical reasons and rhetorical gestures. The remainder of the toga comes around the back, over or under the right shoulder, across the front of the body, with the remaining material thrown over the left shoulder. An earlier version of the toga is seen in Fig. 19.1 which probably consisted of less material. In this example, the Reading Togas from Ancient Sculpture These two headless statues in Figs 19.1 and 19.2, represent two versions of the most common motifs in Roman art: a togatus — a sculpture of an adult male dressed in 2 For an in-depth study of visual representations of togati see Goette 1990. 3 There was a specific child’s toga, a toga praetexta, for sons and daughters alike in Roman citizen families, see Gabelmann 1985; Sebesta 2005. © FHG 19. re ad i ng t he ro man to ga f ro m sculp ture 2 2 7 right arm remains inside the mass of the toga, but can be extricated at the front of the body by pulling the fabric down the chest, as is happening here. In the later version, the toga is much fuller, made of more material and draped in a slightly different manner, perhaps to allow better movement and manipulation of the drapery. As in the earlier version, the basic draping is similar, the wearer starts by passing it up the front left-hand side of the body, over the left shoulder, leaving the lower part of the left arm and hand free. The toga then passes across the back and over the right shoulder but now a large part of the fabric comes under the right arm and is partly gathered across the body, providing some tension and security for the mobile wearer. This bundling of the fabric (balteus) passes across the front of the body and over the left shoulder. The large part of the front of the toga now drapes elegantly across the front of the body, falling gracefully towards the feet in semi-circular folds (the sinus). At the front of the garment at the chest, the part that is now underneath is pulled up to hang over the balteus, this is known as the umbo, again giving stability to the drapery. Over time, Roman sculptors gradually acquired the capacity to represent draped clothes in a way that looked natural, and by the later first century bce sculptors had the skills for rendering the rich and complex draping of the luxurious toga fashionable at the time, as is seen in Figs 19.2 and 19.3. To what extent such rich drapery rendered in marble actually corresponds to clothes worn in real life has been discussed by Glenys Davies (2021, 65) who has pointed out the possible discrepancy between the ‘artistic style of the time and the interests of the sculptor as an artist, but also the purpose of the statue and who it represents’. The form of the toga virilis seen in Fig. 19.2, so full and rich in fabric, further underlines the status and significance of the wearer. This is further emphasized by his body language, with the right arm stretched out and away from the body giving the impression of being in control of the space around him. This stands in contrast to the late Republican example in Fig. 19.1 where the man holds both arms close to his body in a more restricted pose. This style may be related to early training in the wearing of the toga and learning the behaviour required to act in the adult world. According to Cicero (Pro Caelio 5) confining the arms in the toga (ad cohibendum bracchium toga) was common practice for young men in his day (Rothe 2020, 66–68). The course of the first century ce, however, saw the larger toga and more expansive body language developed, with both arms outstretched in an image of masculinity, power, control, and authority (Davies 2005, 121–30). The Toga in Literary Sources Parallel to the many sculptures of togati, which reflect the importance of the right way of wearing a toga, there is also considerable information in ancient literary sources which expands our understanding of the use and status of the toga. As part of his attempt to reintroduce traditional Roman values, Augustus decreed that the toga was mandatory when out in public and particularly when attending the Senate, the games, or sacrificing (Suetonius, Aug. 40.5). The skill of oratory was learnt by the upper classes and the art of speaking persuasively and well was highly valued in Antiquity. Orators speaking in public or in the lawcourts were dressed in togas. To emphasize the integrity of his message, it was necessary for the orator to keep his toga in place and continue to look decorous throughout his speech. We have an insider’s view from the orator Quintilian (first century ce) who gave detailed advice on how the toga should be arranged, particularly for the speaker but also for all men ‘of standing’ in order to achieve the most profound impression. He concludes that: ‘As with all men of standing, it [the toga] should be distinguished and masculine. Toga, shoes, and hair invite criticism both for too much care and for not enough’ (De institutio orataria. 11.3.137). Quintilian gives the longest description of a garment in extant Roman Figure 19.3. Detail of togatus in Fig. 19.2, from the Augustan period (c. 31 bce – 14 ce). Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv no. 2596. (Photo by Lena Larsson Lovén.) © FHG 228 ma ry ha r low an d l e n a l ar s s o n lové n writing (De institutio oratoria 11.3.140–42). In his view, when giving a speech, the toga should be worn thus: Pars eius prior mediis cruribus optime terminator, posterior eadem portione altius qua cincture. Sinus decentissimus, si aliquanto supra imam tunicam fuerit; nunquam certe sit inferior. Ille, qui sub hmero dextro ad sinistrum oblique ducitur velut balteus, nec strangulet nec fluat […]Operiri autem humerum cum toto iugulo non oportet, alioqui amictus fiet angustus et Dignitatem, quae est in latitudine pectoris, perdet. Sinistrum brachium eo usque adlevandum est, ut quasi normalem illum angulum faciat, super quod ora ex toga duplex aequaliter sedeat. (It is best if the front reaches to the middle of the shin, while the back is higher to correspond with the belt of the tunic. The fold (sinus) is most becoming if it falls a little above the bottom of the tunic; it should certainly never sit below it. The fold which passes obliquely across the body like a belt, under the right shoulder and over the left, must be neither too tight nor too loose […] However, the shoulder and the whole throat should not be covered, or the dress will be narrowed and lose the dignity which a broad chest can give. The left arm should be raised just so far as to form a right angle and over it the double edge produced by the toga should fall evenly (transl. from H. E. Butler 1998, with some alterations by the authors)). Quintilian goes on to talk about how an orator should move in the toga, how to retain dignity at all stages of a long speech, and ends with the advice: ‘However, if the toga falls down early in the speech, or after only a little while, failure to rearrange it is a sign of carelessness, laziness, or ignorance of how clothes should be worn’ (De institutio oratoria 11.149). The description and sense of the toga compares well with the standing togate sculptures seen in museums, particularly with Fig. 19.2 here. For Roman men ‘of standing’, the toga embodied masculinity and membership of certain social groups. There was, however, a ‘dark side’ to the toga in Roman literature (George 2008, 94–112). In a satirical view of the toga, that does not find any representation in the type of sculpture we have considered thus far, authors writing from the point of view of those lower down the social scale complain about the quality of their togas and the difficulty in keeping them clean and in good order when running through the streets. Such literature diminished rather than aggrandized a man wearing a toga. Such individuals could be freedmen or any other Roman who was in a dependent position © FHG in the social hierarchy. A literary character of the latter sort is recurrently found in the writings of the authors Juvenal and Martial (c. 100 ce). A toga-clad man who was belittled could be called togulatus or wearing a togula — a ‘little toga’, in contrast to the ones made of richer better fabric (George 2008; Harlow 2018; Larsson Lovén 2018; Olson 2017). While art and literature can produce a set of conventions through which we might ‘read’ the toga and its symbolism, the actual experience of wearing one can only be achieved through experimentation. Several scholars and many amateurs, if we take the number of instructional videos on YouTube as a marker, have attempted to recreate the drapery of the toga. The most effective have carefully studied the visual evidence of sculpture and managed to manipulate large amounts of drapery to recreate a garment which reflects the sculptural images. Feedback from wearers/models often report that it is surprisingly comfortable to wear and, if draped correctly, to move without disturbing the folds too much (see for example, Goette 1990; Goldman 1994; Harlow 2017). Most of these reconstructions are experimental; however, the togas used are rarely made of wool or woven in one piece as a Roman garment would have been, so all recreations have to be viewed with circumspection. Textile Archaeology and the Toga Unfortunately, there are no known instances of the toga which survive among the many fragments of archaeological textiles from the Roman period. However, what does survive, even in fragmentary forms of tunics and curved-edge cloaks, can inform us about how a toga might have been constructed. Despite Hero Granger-Taylor’s 1982 ground-breaking article on the Arringatore bronze, relatively little research has been undertaken on how the iconic toga might have been constructed. Granger-Taylor (1982, 11–17) pointed out salient features in the bronze statue of the tunic and toga of the Arringatore which are signs of it having been made to shape on the loom (e.g., starting borders/transverse selvedge, closing cords). These elements are also in evidence on the two statues from the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek and have been noted by Berit Hildebrandt and Ida Demant (2018, 198–99). In Fig. 19.1 here, there is sculptural attention shown to the ends of the straight edge of the toga in that they model a long ‘tail’ or cord (Fig. 19.4). This is typical of garments made on a warp-weighted loom, where the starting border is neatly finished off in a range of ways, once the garment is off the loom. Granger-Taylor estimated the relatively skimpy toga of the Arringatore to be approximately 3.8 m in width. The starting border 19. re ad i ng t he ro man to ga f ro m sculp ture 2 2 9 would have run along this width, so weaving to shape would require a loom slightly wider, at presumably little over 4 metres. Both the Republican and Imperial period togas shown here require considerably larger amounts of fabric, and presumably larger looms. In 2012, using methods developed at the Centre for Textile Research (CTR), Mary Harlow made some approximate theoretical measurements and timings for making an imperial toga. These remain highly tentative as they have never been tested in experimentation but for a large toga (4.20 m × 4.80 m) approximately 40 km of yarn would need to be uniformly spun. Depending on the skill of the spinner this could take up to 900 hours of time, to which should be added at least 200 hours of loom set-up and weaving time. These figures would be altered by increasing the numbers of spinners and weavers. Time for the selection and preparation of the fleece was not factored in, nor was any finishing. Just thinking about the practicalities of manufacturing a toga raised a new set of questions: how many sheep were needed to make a single toga; where did such a huge loom sit; could such garments feasibly be manufactured in a domestic setting; how many togas might a household possess; were they passed around among male members of the family and friends? Some of these questions are specific to the toga but others can be said to reflect ancient textile manufacture in general. More significantly, perhaps, thinking about the reality of toga manufacture opened our eyes to the telling details we had previously missed on sculpture while we were in awe of the skills of craftsmen creating works which could show exquisite drapery and the layering of one fabric over another. Details such as twisted ends of starting borders would have been everyday elements of garments in antiquity, so of course the sculptors included them (cf. Fig. 19.4). Figure 19.4. Detail of togatus in Fig. 19.1, first century bce. Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen, inv.no. 1950. (Photo by Lena Larsson Lovén.) with many different layers of symbolism which could vary according to context. The artistic repertoire of men dressed in togas gives evidence of the long life of the togatus as an artistic motif, and also of the use of the toga as a powerful symbol. The motif of togati, from the Late Republic into Late Antiquity, stresses the importance of the right to wear the toga and enables us to identify changes over time in dress details and draping which offer an unparalleled possibility of following a specific Roman garment in visual representations over centuries. We must learn to put this together with the archaeological material and knowledge of textile production techniques to consider the reality of the toga, in all its forms, as a worn garment. Why Is This Important? To conclude, across time the toga conveyed a visual message and as such it formed part of a rhetorical dress © FHG 23 0 ma ry ha r low an d l e n a l ar s s o n lové n Works Cited Davies, Glenys. 2005. ‘What Made the Toga Virilis?’, in The Clothed Body in the Ancient World, ed. by Liza Cleland, Mary Harlow, and Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones (Oxford: Oxbow), pp. 121–30 ———. 2021. ‘Clothing in Marble and Bronze’, in Dress in Mediterranean Antiquity. Greeks, Romans, Jews, Christians, ed. by Alicia J. Batten and Kelly Olson (London: T&T Clark), pp. 53–66 Gabelmann, Hanns. 1985. ‘Römsiche Kinder in Toga praetexta’, Jahrbuch des Deutschen Archäologisches Instituts, 100: 497–541 George, Michele. 2008. ‘The Dark Side of the Toga’, in Roman Dress and the Fabrics of Roman Culture, ed. by Jonathan Edmondson and Alison Keith (Toronto: Toronto University), pp. 94–112 Goette, Hans R. 1990. Studien zu römsichen Togadarstellungen (Mainz: von Zabern) Goldman, Norma. 1994. ‘Reconstructing Roman Clothing’, in The World of Roman Costume, ed. by Judith Sebesta and Larissa Bonfante (Madison: University of Wisconsin), pp. 213–40 Granger-Taylor, Hero. 1982. ‘Weaving Clothes to Shape in the Ancient World: The Tunic and the Toga of the Arringatore’, Textile History, 13.1: 3–25 Harlow, Mary. 22 September 2017. How to Wear a Toga, online video recording, YouTube <https://m.youtube.com/ watch?v=0EyStjkII-Y> [accessed 8 February 2023] ———. 2018. ‘Satirically Sartorial: Colours and Togas in Roman Satire’, in Vetus Textrium. Textiles in the Ancient World, ed. by Manel Garcia Sanchez and Margarita Gleba (Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona), pp. 185–97 Hildebrandt, Berit, and Ida Demant. 2018. ‘“Seamingly” Customized – Tassels as Decorative Elements on Statuary Depictions of the Toga in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek’, in Vetus Textrium. Textiles in the Ancient World, ed. by Manel Garcia Sanchez and Margarita Gleba (Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona), pp. 197–210 Larsson Lovén, Lena. 2018. ‘Vestis Vrium Facit. Male Clothing and Social Status in Ancient Rome’, in Vetus Textrium. Textiles in the Ancient World, ed. by Manel Garcia Sanchez and Margarita Gleba (Barcelona: Universitat de Barcelona), pp. 177–84 Olson, Kelly. 2017. Masculinity and Dress in Roman Antiquity (London: Routledge) Quintilian, De institutio oratoria; The Orator’s Education, Volume V: Books 11–12, ed. and transl. by Donald A. Russell, Loeb Classical Library, 494 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, 2002) Rothe, Ursula. 2020. The Toga and Roman Identity (London: Bloomsbury) Sebesta, Judith Lynn. 2005. ‘The Toga Praetexta of Roman Children and Praetextae Garments’, in The Clothed Body in the Ancient World, ed. by Liza Cleland, Mary Harlow, and Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones (Oxford: Oxbow), pp. 113–20 Wilson, Lillian. 1924. The Roman Toga (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins) © FHG