Yin Xiuzhen: Heart to Heart @ Hayward Gallery

This is a fun and funny exhibition. I’ve read some critics being snooty about it but on the day I went there were quite a few families with toddlers running in and out of the room-sized heart, marvelling at the models of cities in suitcases, pointing at the fabric bookshelves, climbing into the concertina minibus and generally enjoying themselves.

Yin Xiuzhen: Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

Yin Xiuzhen

Yin Xiuzhen was born in Beijing, China in 1963. This means she grew up during the Cultural Revolution which lasted from 1966 to 1976, with its high ideals and practical chaos. You wouldn’t really have known this from her work which, far from declaiming high political ideals, is the opposite: it feels highly personal, sweet, domestic and above all, fun.

In particular Yin is known for her inventive use of worn clothing as a material, thinking of clothes as a kind of ‘second skin’ which retain ghostly memories of all their wearers. The curators tell us that Yin’s mother worked in a clothing factory and as a result Yin developed an intimate and industrial relationship with textiles.

‘I feel that clothes are like a second skin; they have their own expressive language, and are connected with their times and therefore with history.’

Hence variations on the theme or method of stitched-together fabrics, from the small-scale – sealing her own clothes in cement – to the massive – building a huge model jet airliner from old clothes and, even more striking, a room-sized heart made from discarded clothes dyed red and paintstakingly stitched together. And what do people carry their clothes around in? Suitcases. Hence the unexpected recurrence of suitcases, trunks and boxes throughout the show.

The exhibition starts in the present, with her biggest, funnest works including some made specially for this exhibition, and then moves back in time, becoming a bit more earnest and serious.

International Flight and Portable Cities

The biggest and most recent work fills the very first gallery. This is a mock-up of an airport luggage carousel. It appears to emerge from one wall of the gallery, curve round the central space before exiting through another wall. Looking closely you can see that the black plastic of the carousel is itself made of stitched fabric but the obvious thing is that this carousel is carrying models of major world cities, made out of fabric and made to a scale which fits neatly into an open suitcase.

The fabric model of an airport conveyor belt carrying portable cities in by Yin Xiuzhen (2026) in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

This is a great fun idea, it’s fun to inspect each city model looking for landmarks of the ones you know. They are New York (of course), Hamburg, Melbourne, Seoul, Dunhuang, Brussels, Shenzhen, and Yin has added a new model, of London, specially for this exhibition.

A fabric model of London by Yin Xiuzhen (2026) in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

Looming over the whole thing is a huge model of a jet airliner except that, instead of being made of sleek dominating metal, it is constructed from her trademark second-hand clothes and fabrics. This obviously softens its whole presence, making the entire space feel warm and humorous.

A fabric model of airliner by Yin Xiuzhen (2026) in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

There is a more serious side if you like seriousness. You could take a work like this as a reference to globalisation and the constant movement of people and goods around the world, to the fundamental fact that during her lifetime China transformed itself into the factory of the world, a major hub of global production and export.

And the cities made of fabric point towards the idea that cities are, in the end, made from the people that live in them, the soft bodies and their warm clothes, their activities and relationships and memories, rather than the huge buildings of concrete and steel which have shot up all around us. An impression emphasised when we learn that Yin made these cities out of clothes collected from each city’s inhabitants.

Heart to Heart (2025)

Up the ramp to the second gallery space where you encounter one of the show’s showcase exhibits, a model of a heart made from a metal frame on which have been stretched a huge patchwork of fabrics in a range of red and red-related colours. And crucially, not only can you walk around and admire its size and presence (reflected in the wall of mirrors next to it) but you can go inside where you find bean bags to sprawl on and fun portholes to look out of.

‘Heart to Heart’ by Yin Xiuzhen @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

According to Yin, Heart to Heart is grounded in the Chinese philosophy of xin meaning ‘heart-mind’, where thought and feeling are inseparable. I laughed when I read the wall label saying:

‘I invite people to enter and come into direct contact with the heart itself, inviting deep and meaningful conversations.’

For a start, this is London and these are the English, who travel the Tube in their millions every morning in total silence. Talking to strangers is a sacking offence. I did try to strike up a conversation with a middle-aged woman in the heart but she made the shortest possible reply and hurriedly moved away. So much for inviting ‘deep and meaningful conversation’.

I circled round past it three or four times and every time there were toddlers running in and out, peering out the porthole, enjoying themselves. Children’s laughter better than deep and meaningful conversations, anytime.

Bookcases

Sharing this gallery are half a dozen bookcases stuffed with books which – you might have guessed by now – are made of fabric. On closer examination you realise these are themed, with a red bookcase, a blue bookcase, and a sort of tartan one.

Fabric bookshelves by Yin Xiuzhen in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

These are funny and striking in their own right but, if you accept the premise of fabrics as bearing the ghostly imprint of their wearers, then they suggest the kind of secondary meanings which books possess – containing not only the words of their authors, but also, in some imaginary space, all the responses of their countless readers, all the emotions and insights and feelings they’ve ever prompted.

Collective Subconscious (Blue)

You go downstairs into the third big gallery of the show and this is dominated by another big striking installation. This is a beaten up old minivan which Yin has extended to five times its normal length using her metal frame and fabric technique.

‘Collective Subconscious’ by Yin Xiuzhen in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

These minibuses were known as a xiao mian or ‘little loaf of bread’. Yin recalls that in the 1990s owning one meant ‘you had a happy life that everyone would covet.’

But the first and overwhelming impact is funny and, as with the big heart, you are encouraged to climb inside and crawl along its length and exit at the back door. Or maybe stay for a deep and meaningful conversation.

The wall label tells us that Yin used over four hundred pieces of clothing she collected herself, the idea being, as with the plane and the heart, that by gathering the experiences of different individuals into one work through their clothes, she created a kind of collective subconscious, ghostly memories hovering around the everyday metal object.

From a speaker somewhere inside the caterpillared van is playing a very mellow, soul-style song, which turns out to be Beijing Beijing by Chinese pop star Wang Feng. Remember we’re looking into a deeply foreign culture here. Yin tells us that when Beijingers see the minibus and hear the song, they will remember that certain period of idealism in the nineties and think about where they see themselves now. Maybe a little like our Britpop and excitement about the New Labour government, then.

It’s ironic that she’s chosen this song as part of her plaint for the loss of traditional Chinese spaces and cultures, given that it is a complete copy of Western adult-oriented rock at its blandest. Still surprisingly effecting, isn’t it?

This rather sad nostalgia for many of the old buildings and spaces Chinese cities lost during their extraordinary spurt of growth in the 1990s and 2000s is the theme of this gallery. In chronological order:

Dress Box (1995)

Remember what I’ve said about clothes and trunks? ‘Dress Box’ consists of a wooden trunk which has been filled with a careful arrangement of clothes and cement. It’s accompanied by a 21-minute video.

‘Dress Box’ by Yin Xiuzhen in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

The themes are time and memory. The idea is that these are clothes Yin wore 30 years previously, bearing the ghost imprint of her back then, her experiences and memories.

Referencing her mother again, Yin tells us that she and her mother sewed together the seams of clothes from her childhood to adulthood. She stacked a selection of them into a dress box made by my father, before sealing them in concrete.

Why concrete? Well, concrete is (obviously enough) the basic material for modern buildings, the key component of Chinese cities’ extraordinary growth. But in a metaphorical way, Yin’s clothes are her building materials, the clothes – and family action and work – which built her.

Concrete is hard and cold but the clothes are soft and evoke ideas of warmth and closeness.

And, at a pinch, although this isn’t stated anywhere in the labels, concrete is masculine – representing the hard, commercial, technological future – while the clothes are feminine – representing the soft, intimate, family-based past.

Ruined city (1996)

In the other corner of this room is Ruined City. This is an installation of tiles, some random furniture and, most strikingly, dark grey cement powder stacked in cones.

‘Ruined City’ by Yin Xiuzhen in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

To quote Yin:

Day by day, I watched Beijing’s collective memory be dismantled and I felt a profound sense of loss. Everywhere you looked you saw the character chai (meaning ‘to be demolished’) written on buildings. There was a desire for modernisation, but we had no power to preserve our traditional way of living in the process, so I used artistic methods to articulate my grief.

I collected materials from demolished buildings; roof tiles, abandoned furniture, and the cement dust that constantly filled the air. These materials carry the traces of lost stories and express our shared sadness and indignation, transforming the debris into a portrait of the era.

And, poignantly:

I’d ride my bike to work in the morning, and the old houses would still be there, but on my way back in the afternoon, they would be gone.

Beijing Opera (2001)

In a room of its own is Beijing Opera (2001). The entire room is covered with blown-up photos of nice looking squares and spaces with old Chinese folk sitting around chatting. Again, there’s a soundscape, but this time of traditional Chinese popular music, harder for my western ears to understand, make out melody or harmonies…

‘Beijing Opera’ by Yin Xiuzhen in Heart to Heart @ the Hayward Gallery (photo by the author)

Again the point is loss. From the late 1980s into the 2000s, Beijing experienced unprecedented development that profoundly altered every aspect of city life. Vast highways, factories, and high-rise housing replaced networks of siheyuans (courtyards) and communal neighbourhoods. Again, Yin’s own account is best:

I would often pass by the neighbourhood of Houhai in Beijing, an area where many retired elders gather to play games, take part in liu niao (bringing caged birds to parks), or sing Peking Opera songs. These operatic melodies primarily draw from Chinese history, folklore and classical literature, and were once highly popular.

I found their activities very touching and they would say, ‘Come and sing something.’ I had to say: ‘I don’t know how!’ Even between this generation and my own, the old ways are dying out. The rapidly changing life of the modern city has eroded away the traditional way of living and left them at the margins of society.

Welcome to the capitalist world.

Summary

Fun, imaginative and genuinely thought provoking, Yin Xiuzhen creates bulletins from the other side of the world, from a China which has changed at a dazzling and in some ways destructive speed which we in the West probably can’t imagine – but, as you can see, she’s done it with humour and warmth, and with children running in and out and laughing. Lovely.


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  • Yin Xiuzhen continues at the Hayward Gallery until 3 May 2026

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Ancient India: living traditions @ the British Museum

‘God – or his avatars, manifestations – is believed to dwell in the sacred images. The clothing and adornments are devotional offerings, expressions of a loving relationship with God.’

Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism – some 2 billion people follow these three major world religions. This fabulous, beautifully staged and atmospheric exhibition at the British Museum brings together 180 objects – imposing statues and friezes, vibrant paintings, glittering coins and bracelets, drawings and manuscripts, as well as half a dozen videos – to explain the origins of the imagery and iconography of these three religions and (in the videos) how they live on into contemporary religious practice.

The exhibition focuses on the period between 200 BC and AD 600. It was during this period that artistic depictions of the gods and enlightened teachers of these three religions dramatically changed from purely symbolic or abstract images to showing them as human figures. It was during this period that much of the iconic imagery and attributes that today’s followers are familiar with, first emerged.

A highlight of the show is the evolution of depictions of the Buddha, tracing the transformation from symbolic representations to the human form we recognise today. In contrast, images of the Hindu goddess Lakshmi, associated with wealth and good fortune, have remained largely unchanged for over two millennia.

Installation view of Ancient India: living traditions at the British Museum showing the opening three statues (photo by the author)

Right at the start the visitor is confronted by these three statues, one each from the Buddhist, Hindu and Jain traditions, and invites us to ‘meet’ (from left to right) the Buddha, Ganesha and a tirthankara.

And straightaway we are also faced with the exhibition’s strengths and challenges. Its strengths are that:

  • it is stylishly designed, with hanging curtains dividing different sections, with soft lighting and ambient sounds (featuring the sound of rivers, monsoon rains, thunder and wind blowing through grass, animals, people worshipping in temples, monasteries and shrines, bells, gongs, cymbals, horns and drums)
  • you are subtly aware of the gentle scent of sandalwood in the background
  • it is extremely informative
  • it contains many really beautiful objects, particularly the many striking statues

Installation view of Ancient India: living traditions at the British Museum (photo by the author)

Its challenge is that describing the iconography of not one but three religions entails a dazzling amount of information. To be more precise, I was a little overwhelmed by the number of numbers involved in each of these religious traditions.

As I went from one wall panel to the next I reflected on how relatively simple the Christian tradition I was raised in is: the Catholic tradition has a vast number of saints, but in essence Christianity boils down to: there is one God, he created earth, heaven and hell; humans disobeyed him and their disobedience is recreated in each generation and augmented by all our individual sins; so he sent his son Jesus to die as an act of atonement, as expiation for our sins; and everyone who truly believes in him will be saved from hell and go to spend eternity in heaven.

Similarly, the pantheon of the ancient Greeks contains numerous demigods and spirits of woods and rivers and so on, but the core is relatively straightforward: gods of heaven, sea and underworld, each with a wife; gods of war, beauty and wisdom; a messenger, a blacksmith – ten or so gods you need to remember – and these were copied or mapped onto the traditional Roman gods and then disseminated across Europe and round the Mediterranean.

It’s even simpler for Judaism which, beneath its plethora of rules and customs, depends on one creator god, Yahweh; let alone Islam, again festooned with customs, saints and so on, but which can be boiled down to the Shahada, ‘There is no god but God and Muhammad is his prophet’.

But here, right at the start of the exhibition, you learn that these three Indian religions – Buddhism, Hinduism and Jainism – contained a sometimes bewildering multiplicity of entities. If you’re brought up in the tradition no doubt you know them from the cradle, or at least know which ones are important to your community. But as an outsider, trying to process the sheer number of beings, across so many interlinked but separate traditions, and stretching far beyond the borders of India (the exhibition includes a section about the spread of these religions to South East Asia and beyond), is quite a challenge.

Numbers

Jainism

Jains follow the teachings of twenty-four tirthankaras – enlightened beings – who are human rather than divine, and are attended by male and female nature spirits. They also worship some gods.

To help them, they have sixteen goddesses of knowledge called Vidyadevisvidya means knowledge in Sanskrit and devi means goddess. They are usually depicted holding a manuscript and sometimes a pen.

All 24 Jain enlightened teachers have identical bodies because they are depicted as they are about to enter the heavens – the realm of liberated souls at the top of the universe. So that devotees can tell them apart, symbols from stories connected with their lives are used.

Jains follow the Three Jewels – right faith, right knowledge, right conduct – to enable their immortal souls to live in a state of bliss. Ahimsa (non-violence) is central to their faith, as is the belief that humans, animals and plants have living souls.

Parshvanatha is the 23rd tirthankara, depicted in the exhibition in a sandstone sculpture.

The Jain universe is divided into three worlds – the hells, the middle world and the heavens. As beings advance spiritually, their souls are eventually liberated from the cycle of rebirth and reach the heavens. The three worlds are depicted in a vivid painted cotton map showing the two-and-a-half continents of the middle world, where humans reside.

Map of the Jain universe. Gujarat or Rajasthan, India (1700 to 1900) © The Trustees of the British Museum

Buddhism

Buddhism is based on the teachings and philosophy of Siddhartha Gautama, a prince who became known as the Buddha after gaining enlightenment. He taught the Four Noble Truths, helping others to also achieve enlightenment.

Hinduism

Many Hindu teachings emphasise the four aims of lifedharma (righteous duty), artha (prosperity), kama (desires) and moksha (liberation from the cycle of rebirth).

Vishnu is said to have ten principal avatars, known as the Dashavatara, who appear to restore cosmic order and protect righteousness. While these ten are the most celebrated, texts like the Bhagavata Purana suggest his incarnations are innumerable.

Hindus believe Vishnu uses the different incarnations to preserve order on earth and to save the world and humankind from disaster. His first form is Matsya the fish, who rescued the first man from a great flood. Here, Vishnu emerges from Matsya’s mouth. Rama, Vishnu’s seventh avatar, is a central character in India’s epic poem the Ramayana.

Images of Hindu goddesses have many features in common with those of female nature spirits, including floral headdresses, plentiful jewellery and full figures. During the first century AD, an important moment of artistic innovation occurred when deities began to be shown with multiple arms. Each hand was held in a particular gesture or carried something which enabled the devotee to identify the god.

Overlap

Maybe the biggest single learning from the whole exhibition is the surprising extent to which these three major religious traditions had common origins, often in local nature gods and spirits and how, even when they’d become distinct belief systems, they still strongly influenced and interpenetrated each other.

There is a surprising amount of overlap among the gods and spirits and guardians and scared figures of Buddhism, Hinduism and Jainism and the exhibition includes objects demonstrating how nature spirits or gods or guardians from one tradition morphed into another, or highlighting the common origins of many traditions, figures and stories.

Some learnings

It is an information-rich exhibition which, as I said, I struggled to fully absorb and process. Here are some choice learnings:

Nagas and naginis are male and female serpent spirits who control life-giving waters. These nature spirits grant wealth, fertility and protection but they can also kill with a single bite. Among the most ancient deities to be venerated in India, they are usually depicted as many-headed cobras. Such was their enduring power and popularity that they were incorporated into Jain, Buddhist and Hindu art.

A nagini is a female sacred serpent. She has a woman’s torso, but still has her snake tail and her canopy rising above her head. Such figures are erected at temples or by trees and bodies of water, where they are venerated for their life-giving powers.

A nagaraja or snake king. Divine snakes are usually represented as many-headed cobras and snake kings tend to have five or seven hoods. Images of sacred snakes are often placed at entrances to sacred buildings – whether Hindu, Jain or Buddhist – to protect them.

Ancient sculptures show Hindu gods taming the powerful and ancient snake kings Kaliya, Vasuki and Ananta Sesha.

Manasa is a snake goddess venerated by Buddhists and Hindus alike for her ability to provide prosperity, children and protection from snakes. She can also cause harm with a deadly snakebite. Depicted as a beautiful woman surrounded by snakes, she usually holds a serpent or a child.

Yakshas are male nature spirits associated with trees, mountains, bodies of water and wealth. Widespread across India, yakshas were gradually adopted by Jains, Buddhists and Hindus, who used their imagery and attributes when they began to depict their gods and enlightened teachers in human form.

The famous elephant god Ganesha has yaksha origins as indicated by his elephant head and potbelly. Ganesha symbolises wisdom and new beginnings.

Installation view of Ancient India: living traditions at the British Museum showing a 2nd century AD statue of Ganesha (photo by the author)

Kubera is the king of yakshas and also the god of wealth, emphasised by his potbelly and plentiful jewellery.

Yakshis are powerful female nature spirits able to bestow abundance and fertility, as well as death and disease. Originally independent goddesses, many yakshis were given male consorts when adopted into Jainism, Buddhism and Hinduism.

Yakshis are always depicted as full-figured, extravagantly bejewelled women standing and looking directly at the viewer.

A stupa is a dome-shaped memorial shrine built over sacred relics, built by both Buddhists and Jainists.

Mathura was a major ancient centre of production for Jain, Buddhist and Hindu devotional sculpture in northern India. The earliest known and definite images of Jain tirthankaras (enlightened teachers) depicted in human form are from here, perhaps dating to about 100 BC. The earliest dated figurative sculptures of the Buddha that survive today were produced in Mathura.

Incidentally, the earliest images of the Buddha in human form were created independently in Mathura (India), the Swat Valley (Pakistan) and Gandhara (Pakistan and Afghanistan).

Ayagapatas, square or rectangular tablets of homage depicting tirthankaras, shrines and deities, are a uniquely Jain innovation. They often have inscriptions from donors, many of whom were women, who gained spiritual merit through their donations.

Bodhisattvas are beings who seek enlightenment, whereas great bodhisattvas have gained additional powers over many lifetimes, enabling them to perform miracles and help others on the path to enlightenment. There are generally accepted to be eight great bodhisattvas, although other traditions speak of four (Chinese Buddhism) or as many as 16.

A distinctive feature of Buddha images from both Sri Lanka and southern India is the flame-shaped ushnisha on top of his head, representing his enlightenment.

Individual gods

According to Buddhist tradition, Hariti was associated with smallpox, and the stealing and killing of children to feed her large family. To show Hariti how much these parents were suffering, the Buddha briefly hid one of Hariti’s children beneath his rice bowl. She was so distraught that from that moment on she vowed to protect all children and women in childbirth.

Isakki and Pecci are worshipped in Tamil Nadu, India’s southernmost state, and among Tamil communities living elsewhere. Devotees believe that such goddesses were women who perhaps died during pregnancy or childbirth and were later deified.

Mount Mandara rests on the back of Kurma, a tortoise and one of the god Vishnu’s bodily forms on earth.

The great bodhisattvas include figures such as Tara and Avalokiteshvara.

Statistics

I like numbers. The show prompted me to do some research. Here’s the number of followers of each religion worldwide:

  • Hindus – 1.2 billion, 15% of global population
  • Buddhists – 535 million, 7% of global population
  • Jainists – 12 million (but tricky to pin down because many Jainists identify as Hindu), about 0.15% of global population

And in the UK:

  • Hindus – 1 million, 1.7% of UK population (cf Muslims 4 million, 6%)
  • Buddhists – 275,000, 0.4% of population (around the same as Jews, 313,000, 0.6%)
  • Jainists – 25,000

South East Asia

Buddhist and Hindu devotional art spread along sea and land-based trading networks to Southeast, Central and East Asia. Sacred imagery and religious ideas from India were adopted and adapted to merge with local beliefs and styles, producing unique depictions of Buddhist and Hindu deities and enlightened teachers. Enough core features were retained, such as the ushnisha on the Buddha’s head symbolising his wisdom, to enable devotees from different regions and cultures to still recognise the gods and teachers depicted.

New and distinct architecture also emerged to house these sacred images. Fascinatingly, the largest surviving ancient temple complexes for both Buddhism and Hinduism are found, not in India, but in Southeast Asia, such as Angkor Wat in Cambodia.

Gallery

Shiva

In some of the earliest representations of the Hindu god Shiva, he is depicted as Ardhanarishvara which represents the divine couple Shiva and Parvati. In this painting, Shiva is shown on the left with the river Ganges flowing from his matted hair while he carries a trident and drum. His consort Parvati wears a crown and holds prayer beads.

Ardhanarishvara, ‘lord who is half woman’, Shiva and Parvati combined in one deity, about 1790 to 1810 © The Trustees of the British Museum

Buddha

The Buddha was first represented symbolically, through footprints or a tree, for example, and was only later depicted in human form. This gold reliquary might represent the earliest dateable image of the Buddha shown as a man, as coins found with it could date to the late 1st century AD. The Buddha stands with his right hand raised in the gesture of reassurance and is flanked by the gods Indra (right) and Brahma (left).

Bimaran casket, about 1st century © The Trustees of the British Museum

Gaja-Lakshmi

Gaja-Lakshmi (‘Elephant Lakshmi’) has yakshi (female nature spirit) origins. She bestows good fortune and is one of the most popular Hindu, Buddhist and Jain goddesses. The dark bodies of the elephants symbolise monsoon clouds filled with much-anticipated rain ready to bring the earth to life. This image so successfully conveys the message of abundance and fertility that it has remained largely unchanged for the last 2,000 years.

Gaja-Lakshmi (‘Elephant Lakshmi’) goddess of good fortune, about 1780 © The Trustees of the British Museum

Ganesha

Hindu ideas and imagery flowed in both directions between India and Southeast Asia. The elephant-headed god Ganesha is part of Southeast Asia’s diverse religious landscapes. This sculpture shows Ganesha’s traditional attributes, such as his broken tusk, axe and prayer beads, along with some differences. Javanese artists often portrayed him with skulls, his feet together and carrying an empty bowl rather than one filled with sweets, indicating that varying communities understood and worshipped him differently.

Ganesha made in Java from volcanic stone, about AD 1000 to 1200 © The Trustees of the British Museum

A yaksha

This mottled pink sandstone figure represents a yaksha (male nature spirit). Yakshas can grant prosperity but also make life difficult if not properly placated. This is represented by the fierce or scowling expressions on these yakshas. Leaves sprout above this yaksha’s ears which possibly connects him with trees.

Head of a grimacing yaksha, about 2nd or 3rd century © Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford

Naga

Stone plaque with the rearing figure of a five-headed cobra. Plaques like these can be difficult to date as some have been placed by sacred tree shrines for over a thousand years. Snake veneration belongs to the most ancient and potent substrate of Indian religion. Today, across India, popular veneration of divine snakes by followers of different religions still centres on devotional images such as this one.

Naga, about 17th century © The Trustees of the British Museum

Silk Buddha

From about the third century BC, following trading networks, Buddhist missionaries took their faith and its devotional art beyond India. In different regions, Buddhist art merged with local ideas and art to form new artistic styles. This is one of the oldest and best-preserved paintings from Cave 17 – the famous ‘Library Cave’ at Dunhuang. It shows the Buddha, seated between bodhisattvas, with his hands in the gesture of preaching This composition originates from earlier devotional images from India which became popular across East Asia.

Silk watercolour painting of the Buddha, China, about AD 701 to 750 © The Trustees of the British Museum

Seated Jain

This marble figure depicts a Jain tirthankara (enlightened teacher). Tirthankaras are human, not divine, and the earliest certain representations of them in human form were shaped in Mathura, possibly in about the first century BC. Seated in meditation, the tirthankara has the sacred symbol of an endless knot in the middle of his chest.

Seated Jain enlightened teacher meditating, about 1150 to 1200 © The Trustees of the British Museum


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A Silk Road Oasis: Life in Ancient Dunhuang @ the British Library

Want to see the oldest printed book which contains its own date of publication (868 AD)? The earliest known atlas of the night sky produce by any civilisation? See a copy of the Diamond Sutra written in the scribe’s own blood? Read an angry letter written by a wife abandoned by her husband 1,400 years ago? Learn about the life of a 10-year-old Buddhist nun?

If all this pulls your daisy, then come to this small but beautifully designed and fascinating exhibition at the British Library.

Scroll in Sanskrit and Khotanese embellished with an opulent silk painting of birds facing each other (943 AD) © British Library

Background history

The Silk Road was a term invented by German explorer Ferdinand von Richthofen in the 1870s to describe the tangle of trade routes stretching across central Asia from China in the East to the Mediterranean in the west. The silk roads went past the Gobi desert, split up to skirt the Taklamakan desert to the north and south, continued on through the Pamir mountains to Kashgar, then on to Samarkand in modern Uzbekistan, through Persia, Iraq and Syria to the Mediterranean in the West. At several points offshoots went south into Tibet or India.

The heyday

The network of silk roads began with the expansion of the Han dynasty (202 BC to 220 AD) into Central Asia around 100 BC, and grew and thrived until the tenth century AD. The blockbuster exhibition about them currently on at the British Museum takes its golden age to have been around 500 to 1000 AD.

Silk roads, plural

These days, modern archaeologists and historians refer to the silk roadS very much in the plural 1) in order to take in subsidiary routes, 2) to extend its length eastwards to the coast of China and Korea and westwards to take in Europe, 3) to include the contemporaneous sea routes from China to the Persian Gulf. All this is explained in some length at the British Museum show. However, this exhibition at the British Library focuses more narrowly on the roads’ core zone, from Chang’an in the East to Samarkand in the West.

Map of the silk roads © the British Library

The significance of Dunhuang

As you can see from this map, if you were heading west from China one of the major splits in the route occurred at a place called Dunhuang, where the route split into two roads skirting to the north and south of the uncrossable, huge and ever-shifting Taklamakan Desert.

The way stations along the northern and southern routes consisted of oases created by water in streams and rivers flowing down from the high mountains of the Tien Shan in the north and the Kunlun Shan in the south. According to Peter Hopkirk in his book ‘Foreign Devils on the Silk Road, one of the reasons the silk roads fell into disuse – apart from political turmoil in China and widespread banditry – was because many of these watersources dried up or moved or were filled with sand and silt. As they were abandoned, sand from the great Taklamakan blew over the ruined settlements and buried them for centuries.

Back to Dunhuang, it also was an oasis town, the last one in China (if you were heading west) the first one in China (if you were arriving from the east) and the place where the two major routes round the Taklamakan divided (or rejoined). It was established in 111 BC as a military outpost, fortified with defensive walls and watchtowers.

Buried treasure

Unlike the oasis settlements lining the desert Dunhuang was never abandoned when the roads fell into disuse, but continued to be a populated settlement up to the present day. But over the troubled centuries much of its silk road heritage was lost, forgotten, covered in sand. It was only at the end of the nineteenth century that a stream of explorer-archaeologists realised that there was buried treasure waiting to be dug up in this vast and remote part of central Asia. The story of the scramble for loot between representatives of Western colonial powers who identified and excavated sites right across the region is told in Hopkirk’s book.

Confessional book of the Manichean Uyghurs (ninth to tenth century) © British Library Board

This is one of the most important and complete manuscripts among the Old Uyghur Manichaean texts, the Xuastuanift, a confessional book of Manichaean Uyghurs, on display for the first time. It is a repentance prayer known as the Xuastwanift, which is widely used by the followers of Mani (216 to 277), a Persian prophet. It is around 4.5 metres long, written in Old Turkic in Manichaean script. The scroll demonstrates the eastwards spread of Manichaeism among the Uyghurs, whose West Uyghur Kingdom was tightly connected to Dunhuang.

The Mogao caves

One of the unique things about Dunhuang is the proximity of the astonishing complex of Buddhist caves, the Mogao cave complex, 15 miles to the south-east. We now know that during the silk road era nearly 500 caves were carved into the cliff face here, most of them by Buddhists, many decorated with beautiful multicoloured frescoes and containing artefacts and manuscripts.

The guardian Wang

Aware of a long tradition of Buddhist worship and relics in the region, the local Chinese authorities at the turn of the 20th century had put a Buddhist monk named Wang Yuanlu in charge of sites around the town. As a devout monk Wang earnestly wanted to raise money to regenerate and preserve the caves and regularly toured and examined them.

Photo of the priest, Wang Yuanlu, taken by Aurel Stein and included in his photographic album, 1907 © British Library Board

Wang discovers the Library Cave

One day Wang discovered a false wall at the back of one of these caves, chipped it away and made one of the great archaeological discoveries of all time. For in this cave, subsequently named The Library Cave and now more prosaically referred to as Cave 17, he discovered tens of thousands of ancient scrolls, manuscripts, printed documents, paintings, diagrams, histories, calendars and star charts from the fifth to the eleventh centuries, rolled up and stored higgledy-piggledy.

These scrolls contained an extraordinary range and diversity of documents, on a wide array of subjects, from huge religious scrolls to personal letters, from diplomatic documents to textbooks on astrology, from wills to instructions for the souls of the dead.

They are written in a surprisingly range of contemporary languages, such as Tibetan, Sogdian, Chinese, Old Uyghur, Phags-pa, Tangut and Turkic.

And they attest not only the predominant religion of the region, Buddhism, but many other faiths including Zoroastrianism, Manichaeism and Christianity which, because of them, we now know thrived in the area.

Paul Pelliot - Wikipedia

French archaeologist Paul Pelliot examines manuscripts in the library cave (photo by expedition photographer Charles Nouette, 1908)

Western archaeologists pounce

The western explorers I mentioned above, who made various expeditions throughout the 1890s and early 1900s and whose stories are told in Hopkirk’s book, soon heard rumours about a cave of magical discoveries and made the arduous journey to Dunhuang.

Here the western archaeologists, starting with Marc Aurel Stein, schmoozed the site’s curator, Wang, offering him money, technical assistance, promises to renovate the big painted caves and so on, and talked Wang into parting with thousands and thousands of these priceless scrolls. Crates full of them were dispatched by pony back to Kashgar, by train across Russia and then onto the capitals of Europe. Eventually these priceless manuscripts were scattered across 30 or so collections in 8 or so western nations, chief among them the British Museum in London.

Collectors’ guilt

Two world wars and the decolonisation of most of most of the European empires later, many of these institutions felt guilty about being party to such epic looting of China’s cultural heritage. In 1973 the British Library was founded. In the 1980s the British Museum handed over its hoard of documents from the Library Cave to the British Library.

Founding of the International Dunhuang Programme

In 1994, after much discussion between the various European and American institutions which owned documents from the library cave, the British Library was instrumental in setting up the International Dunhuang Programme (IDP). The IDP is a pioneering international collaboration that brings together online collections from the Eastern Silk Roads and promotes understandings of the history and cultures of the region.

That was 30 years and so this small but beautifully formed exhibition marks the thirtieth birthday of the International Dunhuang Programme. (All this is explained in the final part of the exhibition, which includes a timeline of the events I’ve just summarised.)

The exhibition

The exhibition showcases over 50 manuscripts, printed documents and pictorial works, most though not all, from the ‘Library Cave’ in the cave complex of Mogao and on public display for the first time.

The exhibition is contained in one long room downstairs. The light levels are low to preserve these ancient manuscripts which contributes to the subterranean, treasure-trove vibe.

The show is divided into ten sections, consisting of eight display cases (4 down the middle, 2 embedded in either wall). At the far end there’s a partition cleverly made from shelves piled high with rolled-up paper scrolls, recreating the effect of the original treasure cave. And off to one side there’s a bench seating about 5 people in front of a video projected on the wall which shows general views of the desert, the Mogoao cave complex, and handy maps showing the shifting silk roads and indicating the spread of religious beliefs along them. You can make out most of the elements I’ve listed in the photo below (video on the right, display cases down the middle, the scroll partition is visible at the far left).

Installation view of ‘A Silk Road Oasis: Life in Ancient Dunhuang’ at the British Library

Topics and stories

The key thing about the displays is that the curators have had the bright idea of dividing the documents into sections grouped around typical types of profession from medieval central Asian society. Each case is named after one of these characteristic professions of the time, constellates around the story of a specific named individual who we know of from a scroll, and then groups around it half a dozen other manuscripts from the same subject area. Thus the cases are named after:

  • The Merchant
  • The Diplomat
  • The Fortune-Teller
  • The Artist
  • The Scribe
  • The Printer
  • The Buddhist Nun
  • The Lay Buddhist

Installation view of ‘A Silk Road Oasis: Life in Ancient Dunhuang’ at the British Library showing a typical display case, in this instance scrolls relating to The Lay Buddhist (see below) (photo by the author)

As is my usual practice, all the text which follows in italics is direct quotation from the curators’ wall labels.

The Merchant (unnamed)

As a key trade centre on the Silk Roads, Dunhuang attracted merchants from as far afield as central Asia and India. Among these were the Sogdians, a group of Iranian people who dominated commerce in the region from the 4th to the 8th century. From their motherland near Samarkand (present-day Uzbekistan), Sogdian merchants established settlements stretching all the way to China.

Map showing location of Sogdiana © the British Library

This allowed them to act as agents for fellow Sogdians back home and along the trade network. Sogdian merchants sold many prized goods and transmitted religious ideas from their own culture and that of nearby regions.

Earthenware figure from China (7th to 10th century) probably representing a central Asian merchant, possibly of Sogdian origins, as suggested by his large beard and conical hat (photo by the author)

This section focuses on the letter written by an unnamed Sogdian merchant based near Dunhuang, which was addressed to two of his business partners in Samarkand, over 3,000 km to the west. It warns them about the devastating effects of political instability in China. The letter describes the famine that resulted from the sack of several Chinese cities by the Huns, a nomadic people from central Asia.

It also includes a letter from a wife who was abandoned by her husband at Dunhuang and who writes to reproach him in 313 AD. Her name was Miwnay and the letter tells us she moved from Samarkand to Dunhuang with her merchant husband Nanai-dhat. This letter was found in a lost mailbag and complains how, not having not heard from him in three years, Miwnay and her daughter Shayn have become destitute and forced to serve a local Chinese household.

“Behold, I am living wretchedly, and I consider myself dead. […] I obeyed your command and came to Dunhuang and did not observe my mother’s bidding or that of my brothers. Surely the gods were angry with me on the day when I did your bidding! I would rather be a dog’s or a pig’s wife than yours!” (Translated by Nicholas Sims-Williams)

Emphasising the theme of multiculturalism, this section also includes:

  • one of the oldest surviving Zoroastrian scriptures, consisting of a text about the prophet Zoroaster (born between 1500 and 500 BC) and a transcription of the holy ‘Ashem Vohu’ prayer
  • a letter from a Christian priest named Sergius to a Turkic government official based at Dunhuang

Dunhuang Limes

I need to digress for a moment about the Dunhuang Limes.

The Dunhuang Limes is a series of military sites spread over a distance of more than 140 miles, and are considered to be parts of the westernmost portion of the Great Wall. The sites begin in Anxi to the east of Dunhuang and extend to the Lop Nor desert to the west, and date back as far as the 2nd century BC [see the map at the top of this review for the line of the Great Wall].

The term limes, usually used to describe Roman military roads and their fortifications, was assigned by Aurel Stein to this series of watchtowers, forts, storehouses, beacon towers, walls, and other defensive structures. The items excavated from the sites reveal much about the daily life and administration of the garrisons stationed at the frontiers of the Chinese Empire. These items include tools, stationery, pottery, arrowheads and textiles, as well as important written documents including the Sogdian ‘ancient letters’.

Hence the shoe:

A shoe made of hemp from Dunhuang Limes © the British Museum

This utilitarian everyday object serves as a poignant reminder of the early settlers who resided along the Dunhuang Limes. These defensive walls and watchtowers, constructed north of the town, protected the territory then ruled by the Chinese Han Empire (206 BC to 220 AD). Doubling as farmers, the soldiers transformed the rugged landscape into cultivated land, while monitoring the desert Silk Roads for potential attacks.

The booklets

Another digression to mention that each of the characters or job types is introduced not only via the usual object labels but in nifty printed booklets (attached to each display case) made of a kind of artificial vellum and decorated with patterns from the period. Some thought and effort went into these and they’re very stylish.

One of the stylish fake-vellum booklets which contain object information in ‘A Silk Road Oasis: Life in Ancient Dunhuang’ at the British Library (photo by the author)

The Diplomat: Ca Kima-sana

From the 10th century, the rulers of Dunhuang strengthened their ties with Khotan, a central Asian kingdom located 1,800 km to the west. Sent by their state, Khotanese envoys frequently travelled to the oasis to help maintain close diplomatic relations, especially by seeking marriage alliances.

Map showing location of Khotan © the British Library

Khotanese delegations varied in size and were hosted by the local government. Their members, who spoke an Indo-Iranian dialect, had to operate in a multilingual environment. They were actively engaged in Dunhuang’s Buddhist community as patrons and helped spread medical and geographical knowledge during their visits.

This section is named for two figures: one is Sam Khina Hvam Samgaka, a high-ranking Khotanese official who commissioned a devotional scroll, wishing for a long life and the well-being of his relatives. The manuscript is over 21 metres long and contains six different Buddhist texts. It was embellished with an opulent silk painting.

Scroll in Sanskrit and Khotanese, over 21 metres long, embellished with an opulent silk painting (943 AD) © British Library

The other named figure is the diplomat Ca Kima-sana, also known as Zhang Jinshan. He is represented by a long scroll in which he explains that he led a delegation of over 100 people to secure the hand of a Chinese princess for their king. He also recounts the religious activities he undertook at Dunhuang in exchange for safe return. This section also includes:

  • a tenth-century Chinese-Khotanese phrasebook
  • an account of hospitality given to foreign visitors at Dunhuang between 979 and 982
  • a Khotanese translation of the Siddhasara, a medical text attributed to the ancient Indian physician Ravigupta

The Fortune-Teller: Shenzhi, the Yin and Yang Master

Fortune-tellers, whose practices were regulated by the local administration, helped both the ruling elite and ordinary people navigate daily life. They advised on anything from the best time to start a construction project to the best direction to take on a journey. They also guided people when choosing a life partner, looking for lost things or strategising for battles.

Fortune-tellers produced calendars and other astrological works. These were considered a form of scientific knowledge, normally controlled by China’s imperial court. At the same time, divination traditions from central Asia spread along the Silk Roads and converged at Dunhuang, leading to a unique blend of approaches.

This section includes a striking almanac:

Official almanac showing the 12 spirits of the zodiac animals, portrayed as officials with animals in their hats (978 AD) © British Library Board

An almanac is a yearly publication that typically contains information such as astronomical data and astrological predictions. This incomplete document for the year 978 is a copy of the almanac originally printed by the imperial Chinese Bureau of Astronomy. It shows the 12 spirits of the zodiac animals, portrayed as officials with animals in their hat. They surround the deity Taisui, who is associated with Jupiter and governs people’s destiny in a given year.

This section also contains:

  • the longest surviving manuscript text in the Old Turkic script, the Irk Bitig or Book of Omens, a 4-metre-long Tibetan divination scroll written in Old Turkic which contains 65 divinations
  • the oldest star chart from any civilisation which depicts 1,345 stars across 13 maps, dating to the second half of the 7th century
  • a 4-metre long divination scroll in Tibetan, featuring 12 divination diagrams in the Chinese astrological tradition
  • eight diagrams linked to a divination form known as the ‘Nine Palaces’ which indicate lucky and unlucky dates and directions for construction work, in a scroll which belonged to Shenzhi,
    a Yin and Yang Master and a monk at the Longxing Temple

The Printer: Lei Yanmei, the woodblock carver

Using a method derived from earlier stamping processes, printers chiselled content in reverse into woodblocks. They then inked those blocks and impressed them onto paper. The quality of the prints thus depended on their woodcarving skills. Printing technology emerged in China around the 7th century, about 700 years before appearing in Europe. The work of printers quickly became essential for Buddhists, as a way of enabling the large-scale reproduction of sacred texts and images. As printing spread to East Asia and to central Asia along the Silk Roads, printers set up many local workshops. While some places, like Sichuan, became major printing centres, Dunhuang printers also produced, on a much smaller scale, copies of Buddhist scriptures, prayer sheets and almanacs.

The Diamond Sutra, the world’s earliest printed book with a date, 868 AD

This 5 metre scroll is the oldest complete printed book with a date. Preceding the finely carved text is a depiction of the Buddha preaching to his elder disciple, Subhuti, amid a large assembly. Such sophisticated design attests to a mature printing industry, calling for collaboration between highly skilled artists, scribes and woodcarvers. It is thus possible it came from Chengdu, Sichuan, which was a major printing centre at the time.

This section also includes:

  • a text containing numerous identical images of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara
  • a woodblock printed prayer sheet with pigments
  • a booklet of Diamond Sutra translated by Kumarajiva

The Scribe: Ke’u Monley

Between 786 and 848, Dunhuang came under Tibetan rule. It was transformed into a bustling centre for scribes who worked for the Tibetan empire.

The Tibetan Empire in the 8th to 9th centuries © the British Library

Local scribes, some of whom were from mixed Chinese and Tibetan parentage, produced thousands of copies of Buddhist sutras in Tibetan. These works, presented in a range of formats, were even distributed to monastic libraries in central Tibet. The rules of the scriptorium were stringent and scribes had to manage the resources they received carefully for fear of punishment. They were also taught to write in different styles, tailored to their tasks, such as transcribing sacred texts or drafting official documents. 

This section includes:

  • old Tibetan annals giving a year-by-year account for the period 641 to 764, the earliest surviving historical source on the Tibetan empire
  • a bilingual manuscript which features the Tibetan version of the Lankavatara Sutra in red ink alongside a Chinese commentary in black ink
  • a large book of Buddhist scripture titled The Perfection of Wisdom Sutra
  • a document giving information about the scribe Ke’u Monley who belonged to a team of scribes entrusted with copying the Perfection of Wisdom Sutra for the Tibetan prince
  • along with some original scribal tools, namely a glue brush and a wooden pen

Tibetan woodslip pen (eighth to tenth century) © British Library Board

The artist: Dong Baode

Artists from different regions shaped Dunhuang’s creative landscape. The projects they were commissioned for ranged from adorning the Mogao Caves with breathtaking murals and stucco figures, to crafting portable paintings on silk, hemp and paper. Surviving sketches, preparatory drawings and tools like stencils offer a window into artists’ creative process. While workshops likely existed earlier, a government-supported painting academy emerged in the 10th century, providing official backing for artistic endeavours. Most artists remained anonymous unless they reached a particularly elevated status. They combined visual traditions and techniques from along the Silk Roads, leaving an enduring legacy through their contributions.

Sketch of protective deities (tenth century) © British Library Board

These two figures, depicted on thick paper, stand dynamically on rocks, almost mirroring each other. Precise lines render their flowing scarves, flexed muscles and facial hair. This type of sketch served as a reference for artists and could have been resized as needed to fit across various compositions. Very similar illustrations are found in Dunhuang manuscripts.

This section contains:

  • a stencil of a Buddha figure
  • a scroll relating to the master painter named b who other documents tell us managed a local painting guild, controlled and deployed painting resources
  • a 1.2 metre tall black ink study representing Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva of compassion

The Lay Buddhist: the 80-year-old who wrote in blood

Buddhism left the largest imprint at Dunhuang, although faiths such as Daoism, Zoroastrianism and Manichaeism were also present. With the spread of Buddhism on the Silk Roads, the oasis became a major hub for Buddhist worship and pilgrimage from the 4th century onwards. The worship of images, through portable paintings and other media, held a central place in Buddhism. Copying scriptures was also paramount to Buddhist devotees, as a way of accumulating spiritual benefits. While wealthy patrons could commission elaborately decorated manuscripts, ordinary people wrote sacred texts themselves. Manuscripts served various functions, as reflected by the variety of formats and languages they came in. They could be chanted during ceremonies, worn as talismans and employed in memorial services.

Illustrated Sutra of the Ten Kings (tenth century) © British Library Board

This scripture depicts the purgatory-like period following death. The Ten Kings, shown as magistrates seated at desks, assess the deeds of the departed. The last king spins the wheel of rebirth, deciding how they will be reincarnated. This handscroll is almost 5 metres long. It was likely produced to assist a dead relative in their voyage to the next life and used during memorial services.

This section also contains:

  • a decorative copy of the Great Parinirvana Sutra
  • a miniature Tibetan scroll less than 5cm wide, containing verses about the path to liberation from the sufferings of death and rebirth, and a prayer to end the reincarnation cycle
  • a scroll of the Nilakantha Dharani, dharanis being incantations believed to be protective and to generate spiritual benefits when chanted
  • a banner painting of a bodhisattva
  • and three small booklets of the Diamond Sutra in Chinese written by an unknown 80-year-old devotee using his own blood as ink

The Buddhist Nun: Deng Ziyi

Buddhism gradually changed the lives of female devotees by offering them a role beyond those of daughter, mother and wife: they could become nuns. Dunhuang documents give us a glimpse into their experiences, from joining as novices, sometimes before the regulatory age of 12, to embracing the rules of monastic discipline upon being ordained. Between 800 and 1000, there were more nuns than monks living in the town. Censuses provide a sense of the community structure and demographics within nunneries at the time. It was not uncommon for nuns to retain some possessions after embracing monastic life. They could also play a significant role in the local lay community.

Rules of a women’s association (959 AD) © British Library Board

This circular is over 1,000 years old. It defines the objectives, bylaws and structure of a women’s club, established to promote friendship among women. All 15 signatories agreed to these rules by signing a mark under their name. The association was overseen by a nun, underscoring the influential role of nuns within the Dunhuang community.

This section includes:

  • information about Deng Ziyi who became a nun aged just 10 in 914, including the official permit granting her permission to become a novice
  • a finely calligraphed scroll copied in 543 by a nun named Xianyu listing the voluntary commitments for fully ordained Buddhist women
  • a tenth century list of nuns at the Dasheng Temple, the largest of five nunneries at Dunhuang, which had a total of 209 members
  • a votive painting depicting the 11-headed manifestation of Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva of compassion
  • the will, written in 865, of the nun Linghui, written in the presence of witnesses, including close relatives and two officials

The caves

As I mentioned, at the far end of the exhibition space is an alcove partitioned off by a floor-to-ceiling stand containing scores of rolled-up paper mimicking the scrolls found in the famous Library Cave.

Installation view of ‘A Silk Road Oasis: Life in Ancient Dunhuang’ at the British Library showing the scroll partition (photo by the author)

This space gives more detail about the caves, namely:

Away from the busy streets of Dunhuang, 25 km southeast of the town, is a large Buddhist site made up of hundreds of richly decorated caves called the Mogao Caves. It is here that, in 1900, the Daoist priest Wang Yuanlu found a small room containing tens of thousands of manuscripts, paintings and other objects dating from the 5th to 11th century. Known as the ‘Library Cave’ or Cave 17, this extraordinary time capsule is one of the world’s greatest archaeological discoveries. It has revolutionised our knowledge of the Silk Roads, offering glimpses of religious and secular everyday life. Many of the objects in the exhibition are from Cave 17. They were acquired by archaeologist Marc Aurel Stein and taken to the UK.

There’s:

  • a copy of Stein’s photo album open to the photo he took of Wang
  • a timeline of key events starting at Wang’s discovery of cave 17 in 1900 and continuing up to the opening of this exhibition
  • more objects including:
    • a confessional book of the Manichaean Uyghurs
    • three Buddhist ritual objects, being: a paper-cut flower; a carved wooden figure of a Buddha; a Tibetan tantric ritual implement
  • a small sculpture by modern artist Xie Xiaoze titled ‘Rain of Languages (Buddhist Sutras)’

Rain of Languages (Buddhist Sutras) by Xie Xiaoze (2023) in ‘A Silk Road Oasis’ at the British Library

Most usefully, there was a small monitor showing photos of some of the decorated caves. These are mind blowing, showing beautifully preserved caves decorated from floor-to-ceiling with complicated colourful motifs and often including one or more statues of the Buddha or Boddhisatvas. I think these should have been included in the short film projection on the wall at the start of the exhibition, they’re too stunning and important to be stashed away here, and on a fairly tiny screen, smaller than a laptop screen.

Photo from the slideshow of photos of the interiors of some of the Mogao cave, complete with explanatory text. Courtesy of Dunhuang Academy, Photo by Sun Zhijun

In fact the friend I showed them to said these are stunning, mind-blowing, amazing – they should have been blown up and printed on the walls life-size. Maybe, although space is limited in this little downstairs gallery. But they certainly impress on you the huge culturual importance of the cave complex, the extravagantly beautiful carvings and frescoes, make you realise it’s up there with the Egyptian Valley of the Kings in terms of priceless decorated ancient interiors.

Music

I haven’t yet mentioned that this room packed full of priceless manuscripts also features a mellow and evocative soundscape. This has been created by a Dr Xiaoshi Wei using recordings from the British Library’s vast sound archive and from the China Database for Traditional Music with a view to recreating the sounds of the ancient Silk Road. Birds sing, gongs sound, monks chant, adding to the atmosphere of peace, calm, civilisation and enlightenment.

This is a small-ish exhibition, but full of wonders and revelations.


Related links

Related reviews

Silk Roads @ the British Museum

N.B. You can skip my comments and go straight to the Gallery of images at the end of this review…

‘Silk Roads’ is an epic exhibition with over 300 precious and ancient objects and artefacts on display, in a myriad formats from huge Sogdalian wall friezes to tiny Anglo-Saxon coins, from a not-quite-life sized ceramic camel to fragments of Sassanid glass.

Chinese ceramics in ‘Silk Roads’ at the British Museum (photo by the author)

It contains not just a bewildering number of objects but addresses a huge time period (nominally 500 to 1000 AD, but with spillover at both ends), covers a vast geographical territory (from Korea in the East to Ireland in the West) and, above all, deals with an enormous subject.

As I heard the Director of the National Gallery say at the opening of their awesome Van Gogh exhibition, ‘Every exhibition needs a thesis’ and ‘Silk Roads’ is no exception. First I’ll explain 1) what the curators think they’re doing in this show, then 2) why I think the exhibition as it actually exists goes well beyond their intentions and, indeed, potentially blows the whole subject sky high.

1. The curators’ intentions

Many historical and art exhibitions are based on a simple premise which goes something like this: most people have a received view about X (when X stands for any historical or cultural subject you can think of, the Tudors, the Blitz, the Spanish Inquisition, what you will) but now this exhibition brings together the very latest scholarship about X to reveal that X (the Tudors, the Blitz, whatever) was far more complicated and has far more contemporary echoes than most people think!

‘Silk Roads’ starts with exactly this sort of premise. Most people’s image of the Silk Road is camels traipsing across the desert laden with treasure from the mysterious East. but now this blockbusting exhibition can reveal that the silk road was far, far more complex, more complicated, far-flung and multi-layered, and has far more contemporary resonance, than you ever imagined!

Premise 1: silk roads

To start with a small thing, the curators very deliberately place a plural in the title to make it Silk Roads, indicating that there was always more than one silk road. I read Peter Hopkirk’s trilogy of books about the silk road back in the 1980s and remember that the trading route from China split in two when it got to the great Taklamakan desert, one route going north round it, the other going south round it and then further splitting, one branch heading south into India, others carrying on to Persia, the Middle East and beyond. I thought the multiplicity of roads was well known (for people interesting in the subject).

Here’s a load of maps of the silk roads, from which you can see that the basic fact that it consisted of numerous routes is axiomatic, universal, basic knowledge, hardly a big revelation.

Premise 2: the connected medieval world

The second point the curators want to make is about how interconnected the world of 500 to 1000 AD was, with trade routes being much more complex and far-flung than anyone previously realised, linking up all manner of cultures, countries and peoples who, in the stereotypical old worldview were conceived of as being remote and separate.

They make this point right at the start of the show with one little object which is the sole exhibit in the atrium or introductory space and designed to embody their point. It’s a statue of the Buddha probably made in the Swat Valley, an early Buddhist centre in what is now Pakistan, sometime around 500 AD. But it was discovered some 5,000 kilometres away, on the tiny Swedish island of Helgö.

Buddha from the Swat Valley, Pakistan; found in Helgö, Uppland, Sweden (made late AD 500s to mid-600s) (photo by the author)

Thus this one object symbolises the breath-taking extent of trading networks across early medieval Europe and Asia in what the curators call ‘a deeply connected world’.

However, as with premise 1, this ‘revelation’ actually comes as no great news to anyone who regularly visits history museums or has any kind of interest in medieval history. Quite the contrary, this is a message the BM has been banging home since at least the turn of the century. Its blockbuster exhibitions about the Vikings (2014), Celts (2015), Scythians (2017), Stonehenge (2022) and Roman legions (2024), all of these exhibitions contained sections and panels explaining that the traffic of goods and commodities, metals and coinage, jewellery and spices, has been astonishingly widespread along chains of communication which were mind-bogglingly long, throughout most of the history (the Stonehenge one was the most revelatory in tis respect).

In fact the very farflung nature of trading routes is one of the chief findings of modern archaeology and of evermore sophisticated forensic techniques which allow us to locate with pinpoint precision the origins of specific fabrics, metals and other to mines and factories, craftshops and workings, sometimes thousands of miles distant from where the final object was found. So far from being new, this idea is a cliché or at least a basic axiom of contemporary archaeology.

So I would argue that neither of the curators’ premises of the exhibition (that there were many silk roads and that trade networks were astonishingly far-flung) is particularly new or newsworthy.

Still from the introductory video to ‘Silk Roads’ at the British Museum telling us that it was, er, ‘a deeply connected world’ with big red rings indicating the five main areas of interest and how they overlap to cover all of Eurasia (photo by the author)

On the other hand what does feel new about the exhibition is 1) that the curators have vastly expanded the definition of ‘the silk roads’, extending it so much that I wonder whether it ends up destroying the whole concept altogether.

And what is spectacularly notable about this exhibition is the sheer number of fascinating, beautiful, exquisite and entrancing artefacts the curators have assembled in one place, to convey information about a mind-blowing range of cultures, histories, religions, goods and commodities which this new, expanded concept of ‘silk roads’ allows them to explain and showcase. This is a staggering, dazzling exhibition.

2. The actual exhibition

Surprise 1: the geographic expansion of the concept

So on this point of really expanding the whole concept of the silk road, the first surprise occurs when you walk round the corner from the space devoted to the little Buddha and are confronted not with something about China, silk or the desert but with lengthy wall labels about Korea and Japan. To be precise, informing us about:

  • Japan of the Nara period (710 to 784) whose capital was Heijō-kyō (present-day Nara)
  • Korea under the Silla dynasty (676 to 935) with its capital Geumseong (present-day Gyeongju)
  • China of the Tang dynasty (618 to 907) whose capital was Chang’an

Korea and especially Japan are drastically beyond the boundaries of any previous definition of the silk roads I’ve ever read. They are as far to the East of Asia as you can get.

For this is how the exhibition is laid out, though it took me a while to realise it: the curators intend that we start in Japan (to the far East of Asia) and then shuffled past a host of displays and panels taking us slowly westwards, through Korea, into heartland China, on to the trading centre of Dunhuang (location of the famous ‘library cave’), on through Tibet and into the Central Asian republics of Uzbekistan and the like, on to the cities of Samarkand etc. Then into the Middle East – Baghdad, Damascus – onto Constantinople the gateway into Europe, through the Balkans, Italy, France of the time of Charlemagne, and finally on into Anglo-Saxon Britain to see coins from the kingdom of Mercia and treasures from Sutton Hoo in East Anglia, before we end up with some choice artefacts from Scotland and Ireland at the furthest remote periphery of Europe in the West.

Each major ‘stop’ on this journey across Asia and Europe is indicated by a big white sign hanging from the ceiling. Here’s a photo of the start of the exhibition, with areas devoted to the Chinese cities Chang’An and Dunhuang…

Installation view of Silk Roads at the British Museum showing ceiling signs (photo by the author)

And here we are half way through the exhibition, with Constantinople and Ravenna in the foreground, and the final displays about Sutton Hoo and Rhynie in Scotland in the background.

Installation view of Silk Roads at the British Museum showing more ceiling signs (photo by the author)

Thus the visitor starts out by reading about the early medieval kingdoms of Korea, Japan and China and then passes slowly through a series of kingdoms and capitals, right across this huge geographic space.

It was as I grasped the curators’ intention, to describe the classic products of every culture, religion and the trade routes between every major city from coastal Japan to the Highlands of Scotland, that it dawned on me that you could quite happily abandon the notion of ‘silk roads’ altogether and more accurately take this huge exhibition as a kind of encyclopedia of early medieval cultures, kingdoms and religions, which just happens to have an emphasis towards trade goods. In my mind it metamorphosed into an exhibition which ought to have been called ‘The Silk Roads and Beyond‘.

Surprise 2: the inclusion of sea routes

Another point – Japan is not connected to any other country by roads. Japan consists of islands. Japan’s trade takes place by sea. And so, in a drastic departure from normal thinking about the silk roads, the curators have included the oceanic trade routes of the period (500 to 1000 AD), with maps and descriptions and object from sea of routes from Japan or China or Korea, around South-East Asia, around India, the Bay of Bengal, up the Red Sea into Arabia. From other directions we are told about the sea routes around the Mediterranean and on, as mentioned to the remote islands of Britain.

A prime example is the display case about the wreck of a medieval trading vessel which was discovered in 1998 on the seabed near Belitung Island, Indonesia which had lain untouched on the seabed for over a thousand years. It is thought to have been heading from southern China to the Arabian peninsula or the Persian Gulf and was laden with a huge cargo of over 60,000 items, the vast majority Chinese ceramics.

The curators make the point that:

This shipwreck reveals the scale and importance of transoceanic connections between AD 500 to 1000. It also illustrates how maritime, as opposed to overland, routes enabled the movement of large volumes of goods.

But surely the inclusion of sea routes reinforces the impression from the points I’ve made above, that the exhibition is so wide-ranging, sets its boundaries so far beyond the traditional definitions of what the silk road was, that maybe it’s not about the silk roads at all any more. Maybe the exhibition should more accurately have been titled ‘Trade routes of the early medieval world’.

Surprise 3: the emphasis on the spread of religions

Third point supporting this argument is…I thought an exhibition called ‘Silk Roads’ might go heavy on silk and silk trading. Now it’s true that there’s a smallish section in the middle which has a film of a contemporary weaver weaving with silk, there’s one panel about silk worms and the mulberry tree and half a dozen ancient artefacts made of silk (small rugs, shirts).

But it’s much, much, much more about something closer to sociology, in particular its focus on the movement – of goods, yes, sure – but much more the movement of peoples and, above all, of religions.

There is much, much more about the origins and spread of Buddhism, Christianity and Islam than there is about silk. We are told how Buddhism spread out of north India into Tibet, China (where it encountered native Daoism) and east to Korea and Japan (where it encountered native beliefs in Shinto). There are also sections on Manicheism and Zoroastrianism, both of which came out of Persia.

We are told how Christianity spread along trade routes from Palestine down into Arabia and east through Afghanistan and into India. And then, of course, the advent of Islam which came racing out of Arabia, conquered Egypt and north Africa as far as Spain in one direction, and swept into modern Iraq and on into Persia, before settling down to conduct a long struggle with the Byzantine empire.

All of these religions are given extensive wall labels describing their key tenets, as well as maps showing how they spread along, yes, the major trading routes the exhibition is describing.

So this, if you like, is the third way the curators expand the concept of the silk road: 1) the geographical extension to extend from Japan to Galway, 2) the inclusion of all the known sea routes of the time, 3) the focus less on goods and trade, than the spread of peoples and, in particular, religions.

To some extent anyone with an interest in Dark Age history should know this stuff, especially about the rise of Islam. What feels new is the specific focus on the trade routes which religious beliefs spread along, precisely mapping out how Buddhism came to central China or Christianity penetrated into western India or Islam extended to central France.

And what is wonderful about this exhibition is the way all these ideas are given material embodiment in a huge range of fascinating and sometimes very beautiful, often priceless historical artefacts.

Gallery

All the text in this section consists of direct quotations of the curators’ artefact labels.

Chinese camel

Glazed ceramic figurines made for burials in Tang dynasty China (618 to 907) include lively representations of camels bearing goods that were imported and exported from the realm. This example from Luoyang depicts a dual-humped Bactrian camel laden with coiled silk, folded fabric, a West or Central Asian ewer and possibly a piece of rib meat, next to bags covered with monster masks.

Ceramic figure of a camel © The Trustees of the British Museum

Byzantine ivory

Ivories are strongly associated with Byzantium, but their production depended on long-distance trade routes. After the extinction of the North African elephant (AD 200s), suppliers turned to India and Aksum in northeast Africa to maintain the high demand for tusks. Elephant ivory was used for everyday, mass-produced items like this imitation wax writing tablet that was reused multiple times over centuries, finally for church services. It was also carved into astonishing works of art, such as these exquisitely carved panels depicting events before and after Christ’s resurrection.

Ivory carvings from Constantinople in ‘Silk Roads at the British Museum (photo by the author)

A Muslim map

This map was originally drawn by al-Idrisi (active 1154) for the Christian king of Sicily, Roger II (ruled
1130 to 1154). It follows a tradition in Islamic mapmaking that orientates the world southwards and places the centre of the world in Mecca, the focus of Muslim pilgrimage. It shows Arabia as part of the wider world of Afro-Eurasia, illustrating its connection to the Mediterranean coastline extending to the Iberian Peninsula and eastward across the Indian Ocean, reaching China.

Map of the world from al-Idrisi’s Nuzhat almushtaq fi ikh0raq al-afaq (Pleasure of He who Longs to Cross the Horizons), 1533 manuscript of a 1154 original © The Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford

Samarkand chess pieces

This set of seven ivory chess pieces is the oldest set known to this day. It was excavated at the archaeological site of Afrasiab in Samarkand, Uzbekistan. Coin finds from the same excavated layer help date it to AD 700s. Probably originating in India around AD 500, the game of chess spread to the Sasanian empire, then across the Islamic world and to Europe.

Ivory chess pieces © ACDF of Uzbekistan, Samarkand State Museum Reserve. Photo By Andrey Arakelyan

Sogdian wall painting 1

This wall painting comes from a reception hall belonging to a Sogdian aristocrat in Afrasiab (Samarkand). Sogdians from Central Asia were once great traders of the Silk Roads. The reception hall includes depictions of figures from neighbouring and distant lands as far as the Korean Peninsula. This section of the wall painting shows a ceremonial procession on its way to pay tribute to the ancestors of the ruler of Samarkand. It highlights the prosperity and cosmopolitanism of the Sogdians in their homeland.

Wall painting from the south wall of the ‘Hall of the Ambassadors’ (Panoramic) © ACDF of Uzbekistan, Samarkand State Museum Reserve. Photo by Andrey Arakelyan

Sogdian wall painting 2

Detail showing the two camel riders in the procession.

Wall painting from the south wall of the ‘Hall of the Ambassadors’ (close up) © ACDF of Uzbekistan, Samarkand State Museum Reserve. Photo by Andrey Arakelyan

Frankish casket

This beautiful casket made from whalebone in the northeast of England was carved with intricate scenes from the Bible i.e. stories from Palestine 4,000 miles away and centuries earlier, as well as scenes from northern-European mythology and Jewish and Roman history. It is captioned in Latin and runic Old English, all evoking the designer’s worldly knowledge. The inscription on the front panel commemorates the whale from whose bones it was carved. For the curators it ‘really encapsulates the transcontinental breadth of connectivity between AD 500 and 1000’.

‘The Franks Casket’ © The Trustees of the British Museum

Anglo-Saxon clasp

The famous ship burial at Sutton Hoo in Suffolk contained the finest known examples of garnet cloisonné metalwork. Scientific analysis undertaken for this exhibition has traced the gems on this shoulder clasp to distant sources. In the curved part of the clasp, the bodies of two boars are formed by purple-red Indian garnets. Their bristly backs are tiny orange-red Bohemian (Czech) and Sri Lankan gems.

Gold Shoulder Clasp © The Trustees of the British Museum

Lombard drinking horn

The Lombards, who had migrated to Italy from Pannonia (Central Europe) in AD 568, assumed and adapted many aspects of Byzantine life, from political infrastructure to fashions and tableware. This elegant drinking-horn, found at Sutri in Italy, is a characteristically northern European form but crafted in cobalt-blue Mediterranean glass.

Glass drinking horn, Italy, AD 550 to 600 © The Trustees of the British Museum

Lothar

Charlemagne’s dynasty adapted Roman and Byzantine symbolism to craft an imperial identity for Francia. This splendid manuscript, written in Roman-style gold script, portrays his grandson and successor, Lothar I (ruled AD 817 to 855), in the garb of a Roman emperor against an imperial purple backdrop. His gem-encrusted cloak combines imported sapphires, emeralds and pearls, popular in late Roman and Byzantine culture, with traditionally Frankish red garnets. The finger ring is decorated with Carolingian-style beasts that clasp a Roman engraved gem between their paws.

The ‘Lothar Psalter’ from Aachen, Germany (AD 840 to 855) British Library (photo by the author)


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