The Mineral and the Visual

The Mineral and the Visual

by | Ancient jewellery, European jewellery, Reviews

Precious Stones in Medieval Secular Culture

The Mineral and the Visual

Stones have always held meaning for people. They were believed to hold certain powers, worn as amulet or talisman, and they were even thought to cure diseases. The Mineral and the Visual explores the role of precious stones during the Middle Ages, and particularly in a non-religious context. And it is a fascinating read!

Full cover of the book The Mineral and the Visual

Bedouin Silver | Mineral full cover

The Mineral and the Visual centers around the notion that precious stones in the Middle Ages were looked upon decidedly different than we now are accustomed to. They were not merely decorative embellishments in pieces belonging to the realm of what we now regard as ‘decorative arts’, but they represented a world of art, meaning and science. They were powerful in and of themselves, and studying them was a highly valued discipline that required literacy and knowledge. Contrary to our times, where we select precious stones based on their financial value and appearance, for the medieval purpose mattered what a stone could do (p. 6). That is hardly a new concept; the agency of stones is of prime importance among for example the Bedouin [1], but here it is applied to medieval objects.

This book approaches this agency of stones through three case-studies: bejeweled crowns, illustrated texts on stones (the so-called lapidaries) and illustrated travel accounts. And in these three themes, a multifaceted, brightly coloured world emerges of living stones, knowledge about those stones, and trade and commerce in acquiring these stones. Before I take you through the book, here are a few observations. First off, the emphasis of the book is on medieval use of stones in the West, as is clearly mentioned on the back cover. Of course, there is attention for the intersection with the Islamic world, for example in the part on illustrated lapidaries where knowledge exchange is touched upon, but the geographical scope of the book is mainly Western Europe. Where sources from the Islamic world and beyond are used, this is to confirm European practices. As the trade in gemstones itself, but notably also the ideas and beliefs associated with these have always spanned continents, that half the story is left out is something to be aware of as reader. Within that European perspective, the emphasis seems to be on the German-speaking world, which narrows it down further. An example is how the German language is mentioned as recognizing ‘the gender-neutral and class-specific conmingling of human and mineal, for it links Edelmann and Edelfrau to Edelstein…’ (p. 14) – I’m no linguist, but the use of ‘edel’ with objects or notions deemed noble seems to me not limited to people and stones and not specific to the German language, either. Early medieval Anglo-Saxon names such as Aethelflaed ‘noble beauty’ and Aethelred ‘noble counsel’ employ the same form, after all. And second, be advised that this is an academic study, not a publication for a wider audience: I fear the language used may discourage non-academic readers, which is too bad, as there is so much this book offers. Having said that: onwards to the world of stones!

The first part presents the power of bejeweled medieval crowns. We expect royalty to bedazzle and shine, and that was no different for the Middle Ages: kings and queens were covered in jewellery and precious materials. But whereas nowadays that is more of an expression of status already present, in the Middle Ages the use of precious stones was what created that status in the first place. I found that a fascinating notion: the stones themselves have the power to imbue a person with royalty and its accompanying virtues. The few remaining medieval crowns are discussed and analyzed, and placed in their historic context. Here, I could not help but wonder in how far we might interpret crowns as ‘secular’ given the close, inseparable power of royalty and church in the periods under discussion, even with the definition of secular given on p. 10. The 26 early medieval votive crowns from Guarrazar, Spain, for example have been left out of this book. These are excellent examples of the continuation of Byzantine styles and its gem use, and it would be interesting to see if the theory developed by the author on the function of the Leitstein on crowns is also applicable to votive crowns.

In the second part, the author adds another layer to the reality of living, powerful stones, and that is what contemporary literature tells us about knowledge of these stones and their powers. Lapidaries are an encyclopedia of sorts, presenting knowledge about stones, and they have existed from Antiquity onwards. During the Islamic Middle Ages, many works including lapidaries from the classical world, but also from Buddhist and Hindu libraries as well as sources from further afield in Asia were translated into Arabic and improved upon. [2] It is in this context that I missed a closer examination of eastern sources in particular, as it would be intriguing to see if most lapidary knowledge was indeed based in Classical Antiquity, as the author assumes (p. 75, 83), or that there is evidence to the contrary. [3] This part traces the development of the lapidary in the Middle Ages and explores how knowledge about precious stones was interwoven with not only geology, but astrology, medicine and magic. I enjoyed the elaborate exploration into observation: not just names and colours, but also shades and hues of colours, the touch of stones and even their taste (I can’t help but wonder what stone tastes like rotten fish….!) (p. 99) The knowledge present in lapidaries is presented and discussed, and this journey into the medieval mind and the dangerous world it found itself in is fascinating – what to think of a coral table ornament hung with fossilized shark teeth set in gold, that guests could use to test their food for poison?

From what was originally learned, medical knowledge it is but a small step to magical knowledge, and that is where the knowledge contained in these scholarly books finds its way to a wider audience. An entire chapter is devoted to ancient carved gemstones such as cameos and intaglios: not only were these made of stones that had powers themselves, but they contained ancient engravings that carried meaning, too, and might be at odds with Christianity – here, lapidaries show traces of redaction, and the author walks us through the wider world behind those religious convictions and the developing of other viewpoints regarding the powers assumed to be present in stones.

The third part sees the expansion of all this knowledge into the practical realm: how to get one’s hands on these precious, and often foreign stones? Travel books share insights in how difficult it was to obtain stones mined in faraway lands – or so they would have us believe. The author elaborates on the idea that precious stones in the Middle Ages were coveted because of their powers and magical properties: travel accounts relaying knowledge seen and heard in distant lands confirmed that information on the one hand, and on the other hand emphasized the many dangers one had to face to acquire such precious stones, which in turn was reflected in their price. Here again, we see how world history is incredibly important. These jewels and precious materials could only be imported into Europe from Asia when trade routes were secure: both during the early Middle Ages and the later Middle Ages those circumstances were provided, first by the stability of the young Islamic realm and later by the Mongol conquests. Tracing merchant routes and traders’ inventories, this chapter paints a vivid picture of the gem trade in the Middle Ages.

I enjoyed this book. The way the author combines stones with ideas about those and the economics behind them over a longer period of time is innovative, and based on a richness in sources that is as dazzling as the medieval artworks discussed themselves. In doing so, she departs from general art historian books (which are often limited to one period only), and instead follows the long lines of history through several centuries. It would have made for an even more interesting read if the long geographical lines were also followed, but I do understand that would have presented a massive scope. By looking at precious stones through the eyes of the Medieval person, that person and their world comes to life. It’s a world that I would very much like to see presented in a more easily accessible book for a larger audience, too: there is so much to see and learn in this gem-studded, medieval world of wonders!

This is a fascinating read for curators and medievalists, but certainly also for gemmologists and jewellery historians interested in the agency and life of jewels and bejeweled objects.

The Mineral and the Visual. Precious Stones in Medieval Secular Culture. Brigitte Buettner, 2022

Colour/B&W, 256 pages, in English. Published by The Pennsylvania State University Press

The book was received as review copy from the publisher.

More book recommendations on personal adornment and history…? Click here to see my other picks for you!

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References

[1] Popper-Giveon, A., Abu Rabia, A. & J. Ventura, From White Stone to Blue Bead: materialized beliefs and sacred beads among the Bedouin in Israel, in: Material Religion 10-2, pp. 132-135

[2] See Starr, S.F. 2013. Lost Enlightenment. Central Asia’s Golden Age from the Arab Conquest to Tamerlane. Princeton University Press

[2] As for example in Content, D. 2016. Ruby, Sapphire & Spinel: An Archaeological, Textual and Cultural Study. Part I. Text. Brepols, Turnhout

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. 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.

‘Seven Eyes’ amulets

‘Seven Eyes’ amulets

by | Magic & Amulets

an enigmatic amulet

Seven Eyes/Saba Uyun

Updated Feb 11, 2025

What is that blue disc with holes from the Arab world? It exists in a wide region, also outside the Arab world, and is a common sight in Iraq, Iran, Kurdistan, Palestine, Jordan and Syria, but also in Egypt. You’ll find these blue pierced discs in jewellery, as separate pendants, and in large sizes on walls of homes. They are called saba ‘uyun, or ‘seven eyes’. But what are they? This blog article gives the most complete overview to date on these blue amulets!

Several blue faience amulets called saba uyun, Lochscheibe or Seven Eyes

Amulets against the evil eye

First, here is what we do know. Saba ‘uyun amulets are considered powerful against the evil eye. They are pinned with regular glass eye beads on children’s caps and clothing, or strung with alum to protect both children and animals.

That combination with alum is also often seen in Jordan, Syria, Palestine and Egypt, and reinforces the power of the blue disc against the evil eye: eye beads among the Bedouin of the Negev desert are often strung with alum, and the idea is that alum attracts the glance of the evil eye before it can look at the child. [1]

Older amulets of this type are made of faience. This is created from a mixture of sand, soda, lime, and water. Copper oxide is added to produce the green-blue colour, and all of this is then formed into a paste, from which beads and other amulets could be made. The amulets would then be heated, which created the brilliant blue glaze.

More recent variations of the discs however have been made of plastic, and even blue buttons have been used in jewellery as a stand-in for this amulet. See a few examples from around the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century in the gallery below.

What does the name ‘Seven Eyes’ mean…?

There is some confusion over its name: why are they even called saba uyun, when they don’t always have 7 holes…? That is most likely because of the importance of the number 7 and its association with the planetary spheres.

Click here to read more about numerology in jewellery.

Click here to see more about astrology in jewellery.

The origin of the Seven Eyes amulet

And then there is what we don’t know. That is quite a lot! [2] Although this amulet is widely used throughout large parts of Southwest Asia, there is surprisingly little written about it. You’ll find them depicted in many jewellery books, as they are very common elements in jewellery, but with very little to no text of their own.

Peter W. Schienerl is one of the very few who discussed them at length in his article on Roman pendants from Egypt, and he believed this amulet to be a descendant from a Roman amulet in the form of a faience disc with seven coloured dots. [3]. He called it a Lochscheibe (which is German for a disc with holes in it), and never mentioned its vernacular name.

I am working on a hypothesis that these derive from Late Period Egyptian Eye of Horus-amulets, a notion I elaborate on in my book Desert Silver and in the e-course on amulets. Other suggestions for its origin are that it stems from ancient Mesopotamia, but so far no one who told me this has been able to back this up with actual evidence (if you have real facts to share on that, I’d love to hear more! Thank you in advance!).

Seven Eyes amulets in archaeology: ancient ancestors

So far, I have traced archaeological examples of this blue amulet in the collection of Egyptian antiquities in Bonn, but these are undated [4], and in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum in New York [5].

This last one [see it here] is said to have been excavated between 1935 and 1948 in Nishapur, Iran. That would make it date back to the 8th-13th century.

But I can’t help but wonder….how certain can we be that this is actually that old? According to the description, hundreds of Iranian workers excavated at the site: could one of them perhaps have lost it?

However, another example, dating to ca 800 BCE, is in the Yale Peabody Museum, where it can be seen on the far right of this bead timeline. According to the description (which is available to read when clicking on the bead – fantastic), this is one of a group of beads that has been said to come from Zagros Mountains: ‘said to come’, so again, uncertain.

Donkey beads, Lochscheibe, Saba Uyun: what are these beads?

In fact, there is so little known about this amulet that you’ll have a hard time searching for older examples online. Looking for Lochscheibe gets you lots of German industrial sites, searching for saba ‘uyun gets you nothing, although sebaa does come back with a few results.

In the Quai Branly museum, one is labeled as ‘baby amulet’ and described as a ‘blue button’ [6] Two amulets from Jordan  in the same collection, sporting the saba ‘uyun amulets, are labeled as ‘amulet’ and described as ‘blue bead’: they were used to protect home and cribs. [7]

In Farsi they are called chasm-more [8], and they are also known as ‘donkey beads’ in English. [9]

Every collection has a different name for these, and those names can vary even within the same registration system.

So here you see why using correct names for things is so incredibly important: I am sure there is lots of information on these amulets somewhere, but because their vernacular name is not used, its history and cultural meaning have become scattered across several languages and descriptions.

That makes them pretty much untraceable, and that brings me to my other point: collecting  things is one thing, but if we fail to collect and share the information that goes with them, we’re stuck with a pile of things we can’t really place.

Modern-day Iraqi amulets

Modern-day productions in enamel, plastic and other materials can be found by searching for ‘Iraqi blue amulet’, or ‘seven eyes amulet’. It is an old, and slightly enigmatic piece of jewellery, but it is still incredibly popular!

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Where can I learn more about Middle Eastern amulets?

More on amulets, charms and magic in jewellery? Download your free e-book here, read other posts, or enroll in the e-course on Magic of Jewellery!

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References

[1] Abu Rabia 2005, p. 248

[2] Kriss, R. & H. Kriss-Heinrich, 1962. Volksglaube im Bereich des Islam. Band II. Amulette, Zauberformeln und Beschwörungen. Otto Harrassowitz, Wiesbaden.

[3] Schienerl, P.W. 1982. Crescent to Cross. Roman and Byzantine Glass Pendants from Egypt, in: Ornament Magazine 6 (2). This is also the explanation Alfred Janata uses in his book Schmuck in Afghanistan, p. 62. Janata includes a mention of ‘a medieval work on magic that describes a similar item, called kawkab (planet)’, but without reference.

[4] There are two on display in the Agyptisches Museum der Universität Bonn when I last visited a few years ago, but they do not have any other provenance than Egypt and are not dated.

[5] Accession number 48.101.222.119

[6] Inventory number 71.1967.100.113

[7] Inventory number 71.1967.100.5 and 71.1967.100.4

[8] A. Janata, Schmuck in Afghanistan, p. 62

[9] As explained to me by Patricia Deany in 2023

The Bedouin Silver blog gives credit where credit is due! Transparent referencing and citing sources helps us all grow. Would you like to do the same and quote this article? 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].

The Bedouin Silver Jewellery Blog: 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 jewellery, informal ritual and collections. 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. Sigrid strongly believes in accessibility of knowledge, and aims to provide reliable and trustworthy content: that’s why the Bedouin Silver blog provides references and citations.

Across Asia

Across Asia

by | Reviews

the walters art museum

Across Asia and the Islamic World

At the heart of human history is interconnectivity. People, and as a result their cultures, have always been in contact, and the result of those connections are visible in material culture. The Walters Art Museum is kicking off a new series of publications focusing on their collections, and the first volume Across Asia and the Islamic World illustrates the interconnectivity on the Asian continent.

Across Asia and the Islamic World

Across Asia and the Islamic World

Across Asia and the Islamic World accompanies the installation of the new gallery Arts of Asia and the Islamic World. In the new gallery, visitors can experience the many cultural expressions from this vast continent in one space, and more importantly, see how they are all interrelated. That interconnectivity is also the focus of the book. As it is expressed in the foreword: ‘Movement is an intrinsic part of the life of most art objects.’ (p. 6). This simple statement is such an incredibly important notion, yet it is one that is often overlooked. We are somehow used to objects being static, in their movement but also in their identity.

The first essay in the book explores that notion in fascinating detail, using objects from the collection. On the first page of that essay, we travel along with a Qur’an made in India, moving to Istanbul a century later, and now on display in Baltimore. In each of its locations, it held significance and had a role to play. A jade chime from China, used at the court to instill heavenly harmony on earth, also reflects conquest and colonization (p. 17-18), and in a similar manner, this essay presents a variety of objects that each hold several stories. This is an essay that gets you thinking on how there is so much more to ‘a teapot from China’ if we actively start considering its biography. I appreciated in particular that the essay ends with a note on how further research continues to shed light on these complex, often tangled layers of identity and history in a single object.

The second essay explores spiritual and social movement as expressed by objects. An example is a jar with a carp swimming in a lotus pond. (Fig. 8) Nothing remarkable at first sight if you’re (like me) not a connoisseur of Chinese art, but the carp swimming upstream reflects the impossibility in Chinese society for people to move up on the social ladder: the desire to ‘make it’ is so very relatable today. This particular vase has an even deeper meaning, but instead of bringing you more spoilers here, I recommend you read this book yourself! The essay continues to compare and analyze objects associated with spiritual movement: in a person, through meditation and prayer, but also in the visible act of processions and pilgrimage.

The third and last essay delves into movement across the continent: of people, goods and ideas. I really enjoyed the introduction to this chapter, presenting a Chinese statue of a camel (Fig. 18): the most important animal in caravans, but originally an ‘import’ to China itself. Portable objects, like jewellery or personal amulets, show the length and width of traveling ideas: a Buddhist locket in Japan, a tiny Qur’an from sub-Sahara Africa. Paper, a Chinese invention, was used for fans but also changed the world of book production forever, and I loved how the essay ends with a copy the famous Book of Navigation by Piri Reis. This 17th century map ties the entire book together: expansion and imperialism, travel and exploration, techniques and trade, forms and ideas permeate the history of Asia and the Islamic world in a continuous perpetuum mobile.

This may be a small book with its 64 pages, but it covers so much ground. The map on pages 8 and 9 allows you to take in the scale of the geographical region presented in the book. The many photographs are beautiful and a joy to see. And what these photos and essays leave you with is a new understanding of looking at historic objects: as material output of cultures continuously on the move. That is of course not a groundbreaking new insight itself, but the way this book has made it its central theme results in a presentation of the collection highlighting its cultural and historic interrelatedness, instead of segmenting it according to contemporary countries and their respective histories. I’m looking forward to the future publications in this series!

Across Asia and the Islamic World. Edited by Adriana Proser, 2023.

Full colour, 64 pages, in English. Published by GILES in association with The Walters Art Museum, Baltimore

The book was received as review copy from the publisher.

More book recommendations on personal adornment and archaeology…? Click here to see my other picks for you!

Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. She considers jewellery heritage and a historic source. She has authored several books on jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, and on archaeological jewellery. Sigrid has lectured for the Society of Jewellery Historians, the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden and the Sultan Qaboos Cultural Center, among many others. She curates exhibitions and teaches online courses on jewellery from North Africa & Southwest Asia.

Collecting ethnic jewellery: 4 filters

Collecting ethnic jewellery: 4 filters

by | Tips for collectors

collecting traditional jewellery

Collecting ethnic jewellery: 4 filters you may not be aware of

Collecting jewellery and dress: we do it because we believe these items to be important, and we want to ensure their passing on into the future. But there is one aspect of collecting that can turn it into a double-edged sword. On the one hand, yes, these items sometimes only survive because of collecting. But an overlooked aspect of collecting is its other side: collecting inevitably is destructive as well. How does that work, and should we be worried?

Selection filter 1: the course of history

First off, no material culture survives in its entirety. That is already visible within your own lifetime: who still has everything (and I mean everything) like clothing, toys, books etc. from their youth? At some point, you have decided to keep some things and give others away. A process that repeats itself again and again: selecting is a natural process. That goes for adornment and dress, too. Whether it is family heirlooms passed down generations or pieces offered for sale to cultural outsiders, whatever survives to this day is based on selections. Even what you inherit from your grandmother is her personal selection: at least I’m assuming she did not own all jewellery in existence.⁠ So, when you collect jewellery, this is already a selection as a result of the choices made during the wearer’s life. These choices do not have to be voluntarily: people displaced as a result of war and violence may not have been able to hang on to anything at all.

Jewellery selection filter 2: demand and supply

Whatever ends up being offered to buyers, is filtered a second time. This is where it gets interesting. Because buyers get offered what sells: as with any market, here as well demand is tied to offer.⁠ And that second filter is incredibly important. Pieces that do not ‘sell well’ slowly disappear from the material record. An example is jewellery that has been partly dismantled when its wearer needed to sell some of it. These ‘damaged goods’ are not always recognized for what they are: a historic source.⁠ After all, buyers, especially if these are cultural outsiders, rarely appreciate dented and broken pieces. As a result, these are the first to go. They are melted down, reused, and any material traces of the use of jewellery as financial asset and savings account vanish with them.

Jewellery selection filter 3: focusing on published, well-known pieces

The next stage is that the selected pieces, the ones that sell well, then become the norm. These are the pieces that get shown in exhibitions, that are published in books and shared online. That fame creates a third filter, because it increases demand into these better-known pieces. The flip side of this is that relatively unknown pieces never make the cut: they do not sell well, as they are not all that familiar to the prospective buyer. I often get asked whether a certain piece is ‘real’ as it has no parallels in books, and I know of several books that are used as a collectors’ manual. That is not to say books are useless! Quite the contrary, I love books and all sorts of publications on jewellery: the more the better to help spread awareness that this is heritage. The point is to be aware that there is more out there than books can accommodate.

Another symptom is the rejection of pieces that are not exactly similar to well-known parallels: a whole new set of parameters for ‘authentic’ pieces emerges based on publications, while the original wearers did not consider such distinctions relevant and worked with what they had at hand. It’s an endless loop that results in the gradual loss of both things and information.

Jewellery selection filter 4: collecting only things, not their context

That last element, information, is the fourth filter. The focus on collecting objects and not necessarily on all the information that comes with it, in turn deletes that information over time. Things without context are just that: random things. They lose their capacity to speak and their function as a historic source. If collectors don’t write down what they know about their pieces, how will the next generation know what they’re looking at…?⁠ I have addressed a few examples of how that lack of knowledge results in misinformation being spread here. It is incredibly important to preserve not only things, but also what they stand for – while being aware that this is only a fraction of a much wider world.

Building a meaningful jewellery collection: actionable things you can do today

Collecting is by definition selecting. We only see part of the material culture, and that does not even have to be a representative part. No matter how beautiful or extensive a collection is: you’re always working with a result of a chain of selections, never with the original dataset.⁠ That is simply the way it is, and thank goodness that not every single thing is kept – what would we do with it? My point is that it is important to be aware of this process when collecting, buying or selling.

Your actions in each of these steps actively contribute to the safeguarding of heritage jewellery. Here are a few things you can start with today:

Write down those stories of your jewellery travels.

Digitize those receipts (if you have any).

Jot down a few lines in your notebook when a seller shared a piece of information with you.

Download my free guide to organize your collection step by step here and start building not just a collection, but your legacy.

Every little bit helps. It’s in these seemingly small acts that you can contribute a great deal to the preserving of jewellery and the world it comes from!

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Do you own a collection? Please do try and document it as much as possible. Every little note helps! A free guide on how to get started with that is here.

Are you wondering how your collection might benefit the communities whose heritage this is? Please consider the work of the Qilada Foundation, my non-profit initiative aimed at reconnecting jewellery collections with their communities of origin.

References

An introductory article on the history of collecting as a phenomenon is W.G.Burgess 2020, State of the Field: The History of Collecting, in: History

The Society for the History of Collecting covers the concept collecting from many angles: see more here

Sigrid van Roode

Sigrid van Roode is an archeologist, ethnographer and jewellery historian. She considers jewellery heritage and a historic source. She has authored several books on jewellery from North Africa and Southwest Asia, and on archaeological jewellery. Sigrid has lectured for the Society of Jewellery Historians, the National Museum of Antiquities in Leiden and the Sultan Qaboos Cultural Center, among many others. She curates exhibitions and teaches online courses on jewellery from North Africa & Southwest Asia.

What’s in a name?

What’s in a name?

by | Opinion

jewellery and identity

What’s in a name?

Updated Jan 24, 2024

One of the most complex issues when working with jewellery is how to put the origin of a piece into words. Looking at a hallmark is only the beginning. The hallmark systems, which operate on a national level, can inadvertently be counterproductive in attributing jewellery: when a piece is hallmarked in one particular country, this does not mean that the type is exclusive to that country.

There is much more to the identity of a jewellery piece: who made it, who wore it, where, and when. Here are some thoughts on how we identify jewellery and from which point of view we do that.

A Ouled Nail Bedouin woman and silver bracelets.
A foulet khamsa from Morocco, with a bright green glass cabochon.

Which name to use: the issues with countries

In most jewellery books, you will find pieces of jewellery assigned to a particular country. That seems rather straightforward, but is in reality quite complicated. Most of the borders delineating countries we know today have come into existence after World War II and the various wars for independence. These borders are disputed in several cases, too.

So especially when a jewellery piece is a little older, the country as we know it today may have had a different geographical range, may not have existed at all when the piece was made or may have been colonized after the piece was made.

Modern state boundaries also cut through age-old systems of exchange and cultural space: they have been conceived on the drawing board during colonial times. That is reflected in their straight and angular lines, disregarding natural boundaries such as rivers or mountain ranges that defined cultural spheres of contact.

Identities: cities, towns and tribes

Arbitrary though they may be, modern borders have a compartmentalizing effect: national identity does not always take transnational identities into account. Sometimes, this even leads to disputes about whether a piece of jewellery is, for example, Moroccan or Algerian, Algerian or Tunisian.. But that distinction is not always relevant, because a piece of jewellery can be both: the particular Amazigh tribe that makes use of it, may very well live in more than one country.

So, when referring to countries, it is always important to remain aware that these are countries as they are now – and that countries are not equal to cultures.

That is different for cities and towns. These may be older than the country they are currently located in. Cities and towns also cater to a larger clientele.

An example are the bracelets shown above: these were made in Cairo, and worn in Sinai, southern Palestine and southern Jordan. The Bedouin that purchased these bracelets inhabited this large area, which now consists of three different countries.

So do we call it an Egyptian bracelet, because it was made there?

A Palestinian bracelet, because it was worn there?

Do we call it Israeli or Jordanian, even though the bracelet was made before these countries themselves existed?

Or is it a Bedouin bracelet, because these are the people of whose culture this was part?

Identities: religion and movement

Another aspect of identification is often religion. This is where it gets even more complicated, especially in the sphere of creation. Many master craftsmen of jewellery were Jewish, but does that make a piece they created Jewish, too? Craftsmen catered to clientele from all religions, throughout history.

An example are the two Coptic silversmiths living in Bahariyya Oasis, Egypt, who created jewellery for an almost exclusively Muslim clientele. Are their pieces Christian?

And what to think of itinerant craftsmen, who traveled through a, sometimes vast, region to create jewellery for a variety of patrons? Is their nationality, tribal affiliation or religion even relevant to the identity of the pieces they made, just because they made them?

It is – when the jewellery they make serves to explicitly identify its wearers as belonging to a certain group. And that brings me to the topic of identity.

Jewellery and cultural identity

I believe the key is to understand how jewellery is very closely linked to identity. Now ‘identity’ is of course a notoriously fluid concept, interpreted differently depending on context.

But the picture that emerges is that the backbone of identity often is the locality or tribe a person belongs to, with religion coming in second and expressed in significant, but relatively small differences in dress and adornment, and modern nations following only after that.

Jewellery worn by Jewish, Christian and Muslim women can be completely identical, because they both live in a region with a certain notion of what ‘their’ jewellery looked like. The foulet khamsa shown above for example was worn by women of all three religions in a certain region of Morocco – read more about this ornament here.

So, when determining where a piece is from, I feel that all these factors should be taken into account instead of just pinpointing an origin in a country as we know it today.

There is the question of where it was created and by whom, who would have been wearing it and in which geographical range, and where it eventually was sold.

A piece can be simultaneously Yemeni and Saudi when it’s part of a community living on either side of a modern border. It can be Jewish and Islamic when created by a Jewish craftsman for a Muslim patron.

All of these aspects form part of the identity of the piece, and together they paint a much more vivid picture of the people who wore these multi-dimensional pieces. Trying to classify a piece as exclusively this-or-that ultimately says more about us, than about the wearers themselves.

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Find out more about the changes over time in jewellery and identity in the e-course on History of Jewellery!

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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. 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.