Triangular amulets: symbolism and jewellery traditions in the Middle East

Triangular amulets: symbolism and jewellery traditions in the Middle East

by | Magic & Amulets

The meaning of triangles

Triangular amulets: symbolism and jewellery traditions in the Middle East

Updated October 1, 2025

Amulets come in many forms, and one of the most familiar is the triangular amulet. Found in jewellery across the Middle East and North Africa, these pieces combine shape, symbolism, and protection. The triangle itself has long been understood as a powerful form, associated with balance, fertility, and strength.

In this blog, part of my series on amulets in jewellery, we’ll look at how triangular amulets appear in silver, beads, textiles, and more — and what they might have meant to the people who wore them.

The symbolism of triangles in amulets and jewellery

Where does the triangle shape of amulets come from? As this is a very ancient symbol, its exact origin is difficult to pinpoint. It may be connected to phenomena in the natural world, such as the sun breaking through clouds, or a stylization of a mountain.

Both are associated with otherworldly realms: the rays of sun are interpreted as a stairway to heaven in some cultures, and mountains are known as places where gateways to other worlds may be located.

Apart from its physical shape, the triangle also carries symbolic value. It represents the constellation of man-woman-child, or the cycle of birth-life-death. Those symbolic values are also echoed in the number 3: see more about numerical values in jewellery here.

The most important thing to remember, I think, is that there is not just one open-and-shut explanation for what a triangle represents. It is not just one and the same thing to every culture that has ever walked this earth. For example, in some cultures, the triangle may also represent a stylized female wearing a dress – or could it be the other way around, that the dress is exaggerated as a triangle precisely because of its symbolic properties?

I’m usually wary of claims for any shape as representing one thing only. The reality of informal ritual and human associations is much more fluid and prone to changes, so instead, I’d suggest we all keep an open mind to the possibility of other explanations.

What we do know, is that the triangle is an important shape, and so you’ll find it in numerous amulets. Let’s look at some examples next! Here, I’ll go into actual amulets, objects designed to keep a person safe or attract good luck – triangles are worked into jewellery as design element in a million ways, but that’s for another blog!

Triangular amulets of gold and silver as containers

One form in which you’ll find triangular amulets, is as an amulet container made of precious metal. These are designed to hold either specific texts, or substances such as incense and herbs. They form part of a complete repertoire of amulet containers: Learn more about amulet containers and their surprising origin in this article.

You’ll find them incorporated into jewellery or worn on their own, executed in gold or silver, or maybe in less precious materials – triangles form a very recognizable form of amulet.

Beaded, textile and leather triangular amulets for protection

The triangle shape is also often used to create amulets that contain something, but that cannot be opened. These more like pouches, and what is contained in them, is often only known to wearer, or even only to the person who made the amulet: the wearer may just have to trust in their craft and knowledge.

These are also worn in jewellery, like the necklace above in the British Museum shows (click to enlarge it). Here, you’ll see a red fabric triangular amulet along with other materials that are known to keep evil at a distance: a tortoise shield and pieces of alum, also in a triangular shape. I’ll be going over those in future posts!

But more often, triangular amulets of fabric, leather of beaded forms are hung on other things than humans: cattle, but also one’s house, car, or utensils. The photo above shows a triangular amulet with golden sequins (and one blue one, against the evil eye), on a loom in Uzbekistan, where I photographed it.

You’ll find them incorporated into jewellery or worn on their own, executed in gold or silver, or maybe in less precious materials – triangles form a very recognizable form of amulet.

Triangular amulets: regional variations

The triangle shape is important in amulets, and this series will continue with very specific examples of triangular amulets that each have their own capacities:

Tunisian resin triangle amulets

Palestinian Hajar Musa triangle amulets

Triangular amulets: Frequently Asked Questions

Why are some amulets triangular?
The triangle is one of the simplest and strongest shapes. It may be derived from sunlight falling through clouds, from the shape of mountains, or refer to female dress. In jewellery, triangular amulets embody this varying symbolism.

What are triangular amulets made of?
They can be made from silver or gold, often serving as containers for prayers or texts. Other examples are created from beads, fabric, leather, or even resin, depending on local traditions.

Where are triangular amulets found?
Triangular amulets are recorded across the wider Middle East and North Africa. Each region used different materials and techniques to shape the triangular form.

Do triangular amulets always have the same meaning?
No. While the triangle often symbolises strength or fertility, its meaning changes depending on time and place.

Are triangular amulets still used today?
The triangle shape is still a popular form for pendants protecting homes, cars and people. They continue to illustrate the cultural importance of amulets in jewellery history.

Triangular amulets: meaning in geometry

By looking closely at triangular forms, we can trace how the simplest geometry became part of a shared visual language of amulets in jewellery.

This post is part of my series on amulets in jewellery — alongside blogs on for example eye beads, glass amulets, and clove necklaces. Together, they show how different materials and forms across the Middle East and North Africa were carriers of protective power!

—

Find out more about the symbolism of jewellery in the e-courses!

More posts on amulets, charms and magic? Browse them all here!

Join the Jewellery List and receive new articles, jewellery news and more in your inbox!

—

Discover more on jewellery today!
Would you like to quote this article? Please do! Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on the jewellery of the Egyptian zar-ritual. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only.

Ladakh Lointain

Ladakh Lointain

by | Cultures & People, Reviews

A journey in photographs

Ladakh Lointain

Published on August 14, 2024

A massive book with hundreds of photos from a corner of the world that is not too often addressed: Ladakh, in the northernmost part of India. This book is the result of three journeys made between 1979 and 1981.

Ladakh Lointain: a personal journey

Photographs made during three private journeys form the basis of this huge and heavy book: 600 pages, hardbound, a volume that weighs several kilos. The photo below will give you an idea of this massive book, with a few rings added for scale.

Ladakh Lointain means ‘Distant Ladakh’ in French: distant, both because of the actual distance, but also because the photos included in the book show Ladakh as it was 50 years ago.

The photos were taken by Anne-Marie and Roland Gillion Crowet, and if that name rings a bell, that makes sense: the Gillion Crowets avidly collected jewellery, and you may have seen the book Berber Memories on their splendid collection of Amazigh jewellery from Morocco.

Ladakh Lointain: the outline

The book is divided into three main parts, organised roughly geographically, but also thematically. Each part starts with an introduction on the region, and mixes general historical research with personal memories. That makes the texts a highly personal read – the book expressly states that it does not aim to be a scholarly publication, but rather an annotated collection of photos. In that respect, it is different from the detailed and well-researched Berber Memories – it’s another genre.

First, the focus is on photos of the landscape and architecture of Ladakh. The second part zooms in on photos of the Ladakhi people themselves, and in the third part images of monasteries and festival are central. That is a very loose division, by the way, you will find all subjects in all parts, but the emphasis is slightly different in each part.

The photos themselves take up most of the book, and here its large format works so well! Having travelled on the other side of the Himalaya myself, through the Pamir, the Wakhan-corridor and along the border with Afghanistan, seeing the sweeping landscapes brought a sense of recognition.

Journeys into Ladakh

I read this book in tandem with another publication of travel photographs: the photos taken by German traveller Otto Honigmann, who visited Kashmir, Ladakh and Baltistan [1] in 1911 and 1912. Completely by coincidence, this book, too, is written by a relative: the granddaughter of Honigmann’s second wife researched his travels and published his photos in 2010. [2]

Both books start with a map of the journey made. In Ladakh, the Gillion Crowets and Honigmann largely followed the same trail along the Wakha river until Mulbekh, and after that over land towards Khaltse on the Indus river. Both journeys then follow the Indus until Leh, where their paths split. So, even though the book with 1911-1912 photos is considerably smaller, that leaves room for comparisons!

Changing Ladakh

Just one example of both books illustrates the importance of this publication. That is Leh, the ancient royal town, which has always been a crossroads of cultures.

When Honigmann travelled here, he mentioned a summer market filled with people from ‘all over India, Turkestan, Tibet, Siberia and the far ends of Central Asia’. [3] Its inhabitants were speaking Hindustani, Tibetan and Turkish, and were Buddhists, Muslims, Hindu’s and Sikhs.

Almost a century later, in 2008, Nathalie de Merode writes in Ladakh Lointain, Leh was at the verge of disappearing – the photos taken in 1979 still showing the town inhabited and bustling.

This is just one example of why photos, notes taken and memories relived of personal collections are very relevant to keep and publish. They add to historical resources in a myriad of ways, particularly because every photographer has their own interests. For Anne-Marie Gillion, that was people and adornment.

Ladakhi jewellery and dress

One chapter is devoted to personal adornment in particular. This chapter focuses mainly on the perak, the iconic headdress of Ladakh but also, in different forms, worn in parts of current-day Pakistan, as the images by Otto Honigmann show, and in larger parts of the Western Himalaya. [4] This is illustrated with dozens of photos, including details, and is just splendid to look at.

But throughout the book, you will find a treasure trove of dress and adornment because of the personal interest of the photographer. From small kids with chunky turquoises attached to their hat, festive ladies attending the festival of Phyang, a man spinning wool on the go in Leh…there is so much to see in this book.

Ladakh Lointain – an important resource for dress and adornment

The photographs gathered in Ladakh Lointain are tribute to a region and its people that have since changed considerably. For the study of adornment and dress, this is a particularly important volume because of its often-candid photos: you will see people from all walks of life, going about their daily business, attending a festival, sitting in front of their home…I may be a bit of a nerd, but I spent many hours peering over photographs with a magnifier, taking in details of jewellery and dress.

It’s also a book that gets one thinking: how many more photo-albums are out there, that no one gets to see? Like the personal archive of drawings of Tuareg culture that I discussed earlier, this personal archive, too, presents us with a unique view on the recent past and as such forms an important historic source. And not just for people interested in other cultures, but also for the Ladakhi people themselves.

Like the earlier publication by the same publisher, Berber Memories, this book, too, is very reasonably priced. If you are working in any capacity with the history of the Western Himalaya, this collection of private photographs is highly recommended!

More about Ladakh Lointain

Ladakh Lointain By Nathalie de Merode and Anne-Marie Gillion Crowet (2024). 600 pages, full-colour, in French. Published by Mercator Fonds: see here for more information and ordering.

I received the book as review copy.

—

More posts on jewellery books? Browse them all here!

Join the Jewellery List and receive new articles, jewellery news and more in your inbox!

—

References

[1] Baltistan is now partly Pakistan, partly India.

[2] Appel, M. 2010. Kashmir, Ladakh, Baltistan. Fotografien von Otto Honigmann. Staatliches Museum für Völkerkunde, Munich.

[3] Appel 2010, p. 18-19.

[4] Weihreter, H. 1988. Schmuck aus dem Himalaja, p. 110-115.

Would you like to quote this article? Please do! Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on the jewellery of the Egyptian zar-ritual. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only.

Khalili eye beads: Palestinian glass beads from Hebron

Khalili eye beads: Palestinian glass beads from Hebron

by | Magic & Amulets

Glass eye beads from Hebron

Khalili eye beads: Palestinian glass beads from Hebron

Updated October 1, 2025

Eye beads are among the most recognisable amulets in the Middle East, but Palestine has its own distinctive variation: the Khalili beads of Hebron (al-Khalil). Produced in the city’s glass workshops during the 19th and early 29th century, these beads were made in many sizes, often with local names like “rooster’s eye” or “camel’s eye.” They were so popular that they were sold far and wide.

Today, Khalili beads survive in museum collections and family heirlooms, offering insight into Palestinian glasswork, jewellery traditions, and protective beliefs. In this blog, part of my series on amulets in jewellery, we’ll take a closer look at how these unique beads were made, used, and understood.

The origin of Khalili eye beads in Hebron (al-Khalil)

The Arabic name of Hebron is al-Khalil. This is how the town was known to its Arab-speaking inhabitants. That’s an important observation to make, because the name of these beads is derived from the place where they were made. These beads are called khalili: from al-Khalil.

A photo in National Geographic Magazine of April 1934 pictures a glass workshop in Hebron, where strands of such eye beads dangle from wooden racks. [1] This image is shown below, click to enlarge: I have this volume in my library, and added a dash of blue to guide your eye to the beads – do you spot the glass vessels on the tray in front of them?

How to recognise Palestinian Khalili glass eye beads

What do Khalili eye beads look like? They are flat beads of a circular shape. In the centre, you’ll have a white glass disc with a black dot of glass in its centre. Around that, concentric rings of glass were added. Garcia Probert describes in them in detail in her book on the Tawfik Canaan collection: the outer circle could be executed in blue, green or black; the second one would be yellow or orange. [2]

They work along the same lines as other eye beads: see this blog post for a quick introduction on the cultural context of eye beads and how they are supposed to work.

Sizes and local names of Khalili eye beads

These eye beads from Hebron were produced in several sizes: you could say they existed in small, medium and large varieties. And these sizes each had their own name.  The small ones are called ‘rooster’s eye’ or ‘ayn al-dik. The medium-sized ones are called ‘ayn al-qa’ud: dromedary eye. And the big ones are named after camel eyes, ‘ayn al-gamal. [3] Beads without a black dot for a pupil, so just consisting of a white centre with coloured circles around that, are called ‘ayn amya. [4]

How would you decide which one to pick? Garcia Probert suggests that the size of the bead may be related to the severity of the symptoms of someone in need of an eye amulet: big issues, big beads. [5]. And while I totally see how that could work, I think the choice for a particular size could also be inspired by what you would be using it in, and maybe your budget would also play a role here.

Assuming that smaller beads cost less than big ones, maybe a small bead could be all someone could afford. And then there is how you would be wearing it. An inconspicuous small bead attached to a dress would still be effective against the evil eye, and a larger bead threaded on a necklace would also double as adornment. So, how were they used…?

Khalili beads in museum collections

A significant obstacle to understanding these beads is that we know them mostly in collected context. The beads we find in museum collections seem to have been purchased directly from the sellers of such beads. And that is not just in Palestine: these beads were very popular and were exported to, for example, Istanbul and Venice.

The collection of the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford holds Khalili eye beads that have been purchased in Hebron itself, in Jerusalem, but also in Istanbul and Italy. What I noticed about these, is that they are usually strung together as 4 or 5 beads or so. You can’t wear them that way, it looks as if they come straight from a bead seller.

Only in a few cases do you see a complete strand of them, labeled as ‘necklace’ – but is it? The first strand shown above is labeled as ‘necklace’ in the database of the British Museum, but with a length of 19,5 centimetres they’re on the short side for necklaces. Larger strands exist as well, such as the other one shown above, which measures 41 centimetres. As you see on the image above of the bead seller, he has indeed various lengths on offer.

Were Khalili beads worn in jewellery?

What evidence can we find of these beads being used? I went through a stack of resources to see if there is anything showing these beads being used in jewellery: collections of jewellery from Southwest Asia, and old photographs.

I found that, unlike the saba ‘uyun beads, Khalili beads do not seem to have been worked into jewellery and dress all that much: you will not find them set in silver, in for example a pendant or ring, or worked into necklaces, whereas the saba ‘uyun or Seven Eyes beads feature heavily in jewellery. There are plenty of jewels made of blue beads, but these particular beads are not part of those.

What is more, going over lots of old photographs, I saw no one wearing bracelets or necklaces made of Khalili eye beads, while beaded jewellery in general is abundantly available – apparently, strung together as we find them in museums was not the mainstream way of wearing these things.

Yet, these beads were produced in the thousands….they have must have been used somehow!

Khalili eye beads as amulets against the Evil Eye

And then I found them in use! The British Museum has two amulets in its collection that feature a Khalili eye bead as part of their design: in fact, these beads sit in the centre of the amulet. In that respect, the little note with two of these beads I photographed in the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford (in the gallery above, click to enlarge) is also interesting: this labels the beads as ‘amulets’. So instead of complete ‘necklaces’ that help fight the evil eye, these beads seem to have been produced as individual eye-catchers (pun intended, sorry).

Explore the meaning of beads against the Evil Eye in this main article

Unanswered questions about Palestinian eye beads

I wonder if the Palestinian eye beads as we see them in museums today could not rather be strands as they come from the seller, instead of finished jewels as they are often labeled now.

The eye beads are, to my current knowledge, not present in regular jewellery and not visibly worn as complete necklaces or bracelets. They do occur as parts of amulets, and so I can’t help but wonder if we might find these attached to dress or veils, amulets hung on children’s cribs, attached perhaps to bonnets of babies….instead of used in jewellery.

And that is interesting to me in itself: apparently, this type of bead is not something you’d make jewellery of.

I’ll be on the lookout for them: if you spot one, please drop me a line? I’m very interested to learn what you make of these: together, we always see more!

Frequently Asked Questions about Palestinian eye beads

What are Khalili eye beads?
Khalili eye beads are glass beads produced in Hebron (al-Khalil), Palestine. They were made with eye-like designs and believed to protect against the evil eye.

Why are Palestinian eye beads called Khalili beads?
They are named after their place of origin, Hebron, which is called al-Khalil in Arabic. The city was known for its glass workshops that specialised in bead production.

Did people wear Palestinian Khalili eye beads as jewellery?
Research has shown that they were generally not used in jewellery such as necklaces or bracelets. Instead, they may have been carried as amulets, hung in homes, or kept as protective objects.

Why do Khalili beads come in different sizes?
The beads ranged from small versions to very large ones, with local names such as “rooster’s eye” and “camel’s eye.” These variations likely reflected different symbolic uses or preferences.

Where can Palestinian Khalili eye beads be found today?
Production ceased in the 20th century. They survive in museum collections, including the British Museum and Pitt Rivers Museum, as well as in family heirlooms passed down through generations.

Palestinian Khalili glass eye beads: meaningful beads

Khalili eye beads show how Palestinian glassmakers contributed to the long tradition of amulets against the evil eye. Their varied shapes, sizes, and names reveal how deeply these beads were woven into everyday life, from workshop production to personal adornment. While not always worn in jewellery, they remain powerful reminders of how people in Palestine sought protection through the objects they carried and kept close.

This blog is part of my series on amulets in jewellery — alongside posts for example on triangular amulets, glass amulets, and clove necklaces. Together, these stories show how materials as different as glass, cloves, and silver were all drawn into the shared human desire for protection and meaning.

—

Find out more about the symbolism of jewellery in the e-courses!

More posts on amulets, charms and magic? Browse them all here!

Join the Jewellery List and receive new articles, jewellery news and more in your inbox!

—

Discover more on jewellery today!

References

[1] National Geographic Magazine, vol. LXV (1934), no. 4, p. 513

[2] Garcia Probert, M. 2021. Exploring the life of amulets in Palestine. PhD thesis, Leiden University, p. 80-81

[3] Garcia Probert, M. 2021. Exploring the life of amulets in Palestine. PhD thesis, Leiden University, p. 81

[4] Garcia Probert, M. 2021. Exploring the life of amulets in Palestine. PhD thesis, Leiden University, p. 81

[5] Garcia Probert, M. 2021. Exploring the life of amulets in Palestine. PhD thesis, Leiden University, p. 81

Would you like to quote this article? Please do! Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on the jewellery of the Egyptian zar-ritual. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only.

Jewellery and the senses: touch

Jewellery and the senses: touch

by | General jewellery topics

Sensory research

Jewellery and the senses: touch

Published on August 09, 2024

Ethnic jewellery is often studied for its aesthetic, symbolic, and material qualities. But there is much more to it, that is difficult to study from a book or when a jewel is lying in a museum case…and that is the sensory experiences it evokes for its wearers and the people around it. And imagine, for archaeological jewellery that is even harder, as there is no one left to ask! So, I wanted to introduce the relationship between jewellery and the senses: what did a piece of jewellery mean for its wearer? And what do we miss out as researchers and collectors, coming from another culture or timeframe? In this second article, we’ll look at touch.

Why study jewellery and touch?

Touch is an often overlooked but super significant aspect of jewellery. I mean, jewellery is literally meant to be worn on the body, and so the wearer will end up feeling it. That is where it differs from sight: sight plays with the distance between you and another person, but touch is highly personal and usually reserved for the wearer alone.

But touch is not just important for the wearers of that jewellery, but for researchers as well. The tactile qualities of jewellery play a crucial role in both their experiences and understanding. So, let’s explore the importance of touch from these two perspectives!

Touch: wearing jewellery

For wearers, the tactile properties of jewellery are integral to their personal and cultural experience. The weight, texture, and temperature of jewellery materials can evoke feelings of comfort, identity, and connection to heritage. It does something that is not always easy to put into words. And that ‘something’ is personal: of all the senses, feeling one’s jewellery is an experience for the wearer alone. Others may see, hear and even smell your jewellery, but how it feels…? That is between you and your jewellery.

Wearing jewellery: weight and presence

The weight of jewellery and other personal adornment can be a constant physical reminder of cultural identity and social status. Just one example are the coin-laden headdresses of Palestine, known as saffeh. They create a continuous sensory presence on the head, and their weight influences how the wearer carries herself.

I was allowed to wear such a headdress briefly in the home of a Palestinian collector, and the weight had a profound effect on my posture and, this may seem odd, the awareness of my own head. Feeling the headdress somehow made me feel more visible.

During that same visit, I was also dressed in a sleeveless jacket heavily decorated with coins. This was a miqlab, a bridal garment on which family would attach both coins and pieces of silver. This, too, felt heavy, and it made me think how a bride would feel in the knowledge that the weight of this garment literally embodied her own financial security and independence.

Jewellery and touch: texture

The texture of jewellery materials, whether smooth, rough, or intricately carved, provides wearers with a direct connection to the craftsmanship involved in their creation. Texture is also deliberately aimed not just at seeing, but also at wearing: the side of a jewel touching the skin is often smooth, while the exterior may be decorated in some way.

Besides wear comfort, there is also the tactile experience of feeling your jewels throughout the day. We all fumble with our necklaces, I think, and, speaking for myself at least, when someone compliments me on my necklace, I usually reach for it to feel which one I’m wearing – and I know instantly upon the touch.

It’s that sensation of textures which may reinforce the value of the jewellery, not just as an adornment but as a highly personal piece. There may be reassurance in smoothness or softness for example, something that is agreeable to the touch.

Jewellery and touch: temperature and material properties

Temperature is real! These temperature sensations change with the environment, creating a dynamic interaction between the jewellery and the wearer. There is that shiver when you put on a necklace on a cold day – but it’s gone in a few minutes. And there is the opposite, wearing metal jewellery on a hot day, when the outside of a bracelet can be too hot to touch.

Each material has its own qualities when it comes to temperature: bone, wood, glass, various metals…they all interact with the wearer in a different way.

All of this makes touch an incredibly important part of jewellery research. So how does that work?

Jewellery and touch as a research method

Engaging with jewellery through touch is vital. It may reveal so much about the materials, construction techniques, and cultural significance that might not be evident through visual inspection alone. You really need to see more than just a photo: jewellery needs to be handled. It’s by holding an object that you’ll get a better idea of its physical qualities, and from there, what does and does not work in its cultural context.

That goes for archaeological jewellery in particular: you’re usually not allowed to try a piece of jewellery on in a museum, but that is actually exactly what is needed to get how it may have been worn in the past.

Here are 3 ways touch works as a great research tool.

1 Material identification

Touching and handling jewellery can help identify materials that might be difficult to discern visually. For example, distinguishing between bone and ivory, or between glass and precious stones, often requires tactile examination (on top of tons of other methods!). The feel of the material can provide clues about its origins and the techniques used to shape it.

2 Craftsmanship and construction

By feeling the surface and construction of jewellery, you can also gain insights into the craftsmanship and techniques employed. Is it hollow or solid? Can you feel joints, or for example moving parts? That tactile experience can help reconstruct the making processes, and get an idea on how a piece of jewellery may have functioned in everyday life.

3 Wear patterns

Handling jewellery allows you to study wear patterns that indicate how pieces were used and valued. It’s those places where a bracelet or an anklet has run smooth from years of wearing, that tell you a lot about its everyday life. Usewear, as this is called, has so much to share about the jewellery’s history and the lifestyle of its wearers!

With archaeological jewellery, this is a bit more difficult, but this is where replica jewellery comes in. By wearing similar pieces, that have preferably been made in the same manner as they would have been in the past, you not only get a feel for how they may have been worn, but also on how they ‘behave’ – and end up with wear and tear.

Jewellery and touch: wearing and researching

So, as you see, both wearers and researchers experience touch in complementary ways.

For wearers, the tactile interaction with jewellery is continuous and often very personal. The feel of a necklace resting on your chest, the movement of bangles, and the weight of earrings contribute to the sensory landscape of the wearer.  It’s reassuring in some way, to feel a piece of jewellery on your skin, and you miss it when it’s not there.

Researchers approach touch with a more analytical perspective. And they do so in two ways: there is studying how touch has left traces on the object itself, to get an idea how it may have been worn. And there is handling of a piece of jewellery in turn: like I wrote above, actually handling pieces is super important!

In jewellery studies, interviews with original wearers is super important. Their tactile experiences and meanings associated with the jewellery are vital, and you’ll only understand these from actually wearing the items they’re talking about – sharing an experience.

Jewellery and touch: a highly personal aspect

By appreciating and studying the tactile aspects of ethnic jewellery, you may get that much closer to their original wearers. How does a piece of jewellery feel, how does it sit on your body, how does it interact with other items of personal adornment such as dress or hair? Touch is much more close to the skin than sight, and so touch is, in my view, a very personal aspect of jewellery.

In the next installment on the sensory dimensions of jewellery, we’ll be looking at smell!

Read the other blogs on the sensory aspects of jewellery here:

Sight

Smell

Sound

—

Find out more about the histories behind jewellery in the e-courses!

More posts on jewellery and research? Browse them all here!

Join the Jewellery List and receive new articles, jewellery news and more in your inbox!

—

Discover more on jewellery today!

References

Would you like to quote this article? Please do! Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on the jewellery of the Egyptian zar-ritual. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only.

Textiles in Motion

Textiles in Motion

by | Ancient jewellery, Reviews

Dress research

Textiles in Motion

Published on August 08, 2024

When the study of ancient personal adornment meets lived experiences, magic happens! Textiles in Motion. Dress for Dance in the Ancient World is filled with interdisciplinary study in which ancient textiles come to life, statues swirl and the past jingles.

Textiles in Motion: the outline

This book is one of the results of a much larger project focusing on Etruscan dance through textile studies. Its contents extend wider than Etruria though, and present us with articles grouped in 6 distinct parts. First, you’ll find practical perspectives on dance and clothing, followed by Movement and Design, Embodiment and Communication, Cognition and Sensory Experience, Images and Metaphors, and even Modern Reception.

The contributions take us all over the ancient world: from the Mediterranean to China, from Bronze Age Europe to dancing Egyptologists. What will you find in this book? I’m not going to cover it all (because, spoiler alert) but will take you through my favourite chapters.

Textiles in Motion: dance in action

The first contribution, Practical perspectives on dance and clothing, is one I like best in this book. It’s written in a very approachable style, and weaves current-day dance experience together with the study of ancient textiles. I mean, even the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders make an appearance! The combination of folkloric dance experience and textile study makes this one of the most relatable and enjoyable chapters in the book. I found the notion of ‘showing off’ during dance particularly valuable –  it brings a new dynamic to the study of ancient textiles.

That is followed-up immediately by the next chapter, which introduces the design and construction of woollen skirts from eastern Central Asia. These were made some 2,000 years ago, and this chapter shows how they were actually designed to move. Through a combination of scientific research and technical recreation, these skirts were seen moving again the for the first time in millennia: a great example of how creating and wearing replicas of ancient textiles may help us understand their functionality.

That same combination of research with recreations is also what makes chapter 8 fascinating. Here, we move to Iron Age Europe, so even further back in time to around 800 – 400 BCE. Elite ladies from the Hallstatt culture in this timeframe wore jewellery that jingled, and what I found really interesting in this contribution is that the sound they produce has been analysed for its wavelength: individually and together, to create an idea of the ‘soundscape’ of these ladies.

I do wonder if that sound may have been altered slightly due to the corrosion on the jewels – I can’t quite make out if this analysis has been done with original jewels, replica jewels, or both. Either way, it’s super cool research – because it also involves reenactment of ancient dance poses by dancer dressed in replica garments and jewellery.

This way, both the movement of textile and the sounds produced could be studied. From there, further research is suggested into the ‘sound fields’ that these elite ladies emitted: could you, as an Iron Age person, judge from the specific jingle of their ornaments what status they have?

Textiles in Motion: dancing statues

Another field of study is that of 3D objects, like statues. The third chapter examines beautiful terracotta and bronze statues from ancient Greece, showing women who clearly are moving – but are they dancing, and if so, how? This chapter reads almost like a detective, piecing clues about the type of textile, how it was fastened, and which movements could may made – or not.

I also really enjoyed the elaborate discussion on Roman household gods, the lares. These gods were present in nearly every household, either in the form of little statuettes or painted on the wall. The author goes over pose, dress and personal appearance in great detail, and after reading this contribution I figured myself not much of an archaeologist – because I never realised that they, clearly, dance. How cool is that, to have dancing gods in your home? The author calls them ‘the festive guardians of the prosperity of the household’ (p.66), which is at, least to me, a new angle from which to observe these very familiar gods.

Textiles in Motion: the body, the senses, and dance

Multiple chapters discuss dance, personal appearance and the senses in Ancient Egypt. To share just one of these, the contribution on tattoos in ancient Egypt explores the relation between the body and elements of dress, the art of writing in Egypt and divine service. By considering tattoos as clothing, they gain an entirely new meaning in the context of dance: while dance is a performance that is temporal, tattoos are permanent.

Textiles in Motion – an inspiring book

This is a book about so much more than ‘just’ textiles and dance: it approaches dance in Antiquity across the full range of the senses. That is what makes it an absolutely inspiring book to me. Many of the chapters are illustrated with well-chosen images, and what I also picked up while reading this volume, was a sense of fun: in several contributions, the authors really seemed to have enjoyed what they were doing. That is usually the best way to embark on any type of research!

In combining sources such as texts, images and actual remains with sensory experiences, the past becomes a vivid place. Its interdisciplinary approach and openness to new avenues of exploration adds significantly to how we may understand movement and the senses in the past – an understanding that brings the people of that past much closer.

Whether you are into the history of dance, or an archaeologist or historian (or all of them), this is a volume I highly recommend!

More about Textiles in Motion

Textiles in Motion. Dress for Dance in the Ancient World.

Edited by Audrey Gouy (2023). 208 pages, full-colour, in English. Published by Oxbow Books: see here for more info and ordering.

I received the book as review copy.

—

More posts on jewellery books? Browse them all here!

Join the Jewellery List and receive new articles, jewellery news and more in your inbox!

—

Would you like to quote this article? Please do! Here’s how:

S. van Roode, [write the title as you see it above this post], published on the Bedouin Silver website [paste the exact link to this article], accessed on [the date you are reading this article and decided it was useful for you].

Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. Her main field of expertise is jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, as well as archaeological and archaeological revival jewellery. She has authored several books on jewellery, and obtained her PhD at Leiden University on the jewellery of the Egyptian zar-ritual. Sigrid has lectured for the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden, Turquoise Mountain Jordan, and many others. She provides consultancy and research on jewellery collections for both museums and private collections, teaches courses and curates exhibitions. She is not involved in the business of buying and selling jewellery, and focuses on research, knowledge production, and education only.