by Krista West
Whether woven or embroidered, the fibers used to create textiles were of paramount importance in the ancient world. Nature had given mankind just four basic fiber building blocks and from these he had to clothe himself, assign honor and prestige, adorn his dwellings, and beautify his places of worship. The raw materials of sheep’s wool, silk strands from the silkworm, and plant fibers, had to be painstakingly transformed into something useful and beautiful, and this endeavor had all the characteristics and value of similarly complex arts such as carving and metalwork. To create textiles required tremendous skill, artistic ability, specific technical knowledge, and, in some cases, access to the most expensive raw materials the ancient world knew. A piece of fabric laboriously and carefully woven, whether in a domestic setting or in the commercial, imperial workshops of Constantinople, would be valued to the last thread, because each and every one of those threads had to be worked by hand. These valuable fabrics would be used and treasured for many years and when they eventually began to wear out, they would be re-cut and re-fashioned to further embellish garments and hangings, even if only as a small border or decorative patch.
In ancient Rome, wool was the fiber of choice for most garments because the Roman landscape was well-suited to the raising of sheep. Wool is a highly versatile fiber and has many excellent properties: it is water-resistant and fire-resistant, it retains its insulating properties even when wet, protects against cold, is breathable in hot weather, and is even antibacterial to some measure. Wool takes dyes very well and is a readily renewable resource. Togas and tunics alike were made from hand-woven wool, in a variety of grades, weights, and colors. Tunics were often further ornamented with multi-colored tapestry-woven bands and decorations which could be removed and re-sewn to a new tunic once the original began to wear out. Togas were finished with bands of specific colors that denoted status. Cloaks and wraps were also made of wool, lighter for warm weather and heavier for cold or wet weather. Today wool is often perceived as a heavy, coarse fabric due to our frequent use of wool for outerwear, but in ancient usage there were also light, fine wools, some of which could rival even the fineness of silk.
Far from the Roman hills with their grazing sheep, across the Mediterranean Sea, lay the great land of Egypt sweltering in the sun. With its wide, open fields and hot climate, Egypt’s landscape was ideal for growing flax, the raw material necessary to create the preeminent fabric of Egypt, linen. Whereas wool was ideally suited for garments worn in the temperate climate of ancient Rome, linen was the fiber of choice in Egypt’s hot environment. Linen is exceptionally breathable and comfortable, resists moths and dirt, and is a very strong fabric with great durability, one of the few natural fibers that is stronger when wet than when dry. In the heat of Egypt, linen kept its wearer comfortable and it is easy to see how the garment designs of ancient Egypt were molded by its distinctive properties. If a Roman toga, with its multiple folds and draping, had been made from linen it would have been a wrinkly mess, but the more tailored Egyptian kalasiris made from linen was a garment of great beauty in line and form.
There was robust commerce in the ancient Mediterranean world and therefore linen was imported from Egypt to Greece and Rome, but due to its appearance—even at its best, linen is not a showy fabric—it was most often reserved for under-tunics and, in the Byzantine era was used for lining certain silk garments; in fact, our English terms “lingerie” and “lining” both come from the word “linen.” While the Egyptians frequently wore linen garments, the Romans did not embrace them until quite late and even then relegated this fiber, when used for outer garments, exclusively to women.6 Wool remained the predominant fiber of ancient Rome.
In the very earliest days of the Church the garments used in liturgical settings were likely most often made from wool, given that these early vestments were adapted from standard Roman and Greek garments. However, this was not necessarily a coarse, rough, “simple” fabric as is sometimes sentimentally imagined. In a time and place that viewed textiles as both a valuable commodity and a status symbol, the early garments of the Church would most likely have been of the best quality that the wearer or community could afford.7 Early iconography depicting the apostles and other saints in full-length tunics and togas does so in order to illustrate their revered position as “philosophers,” i.e., “lovers of Wisdom” (“Wisdom” being Christ in this context) and such garments in the ancient world would have been made from beautiful and finely woven wool.
In addition to linen and wool, the ancient world was also acquainted with silk, though it was long reserved for the use of the wealthy and powerful due to the exorbitant cost of importing it from the Orient. This vivid and gleaming textile of luxury and privilege began to be coveted in Rome around the first century BC, mostly for women’s attire. The Roman Senate at first tried to curtail its use due to its high cost as well as the perception that it could foster immorality due to its transparency.
Despite the Senate’s edicts the lure of silk took hold. Once seen and held in the hand, it is easy to see why: silk has an ethereal drape, a compelling brilliance when dyed, and a unique, lustrous sheen. These particular qualities are not found in any other natural fiber. In addition to its beautiful appearance, it is also exceptionally durable, having been used throughout history to fashion such diverse products as the coronation robes of many Western European houses and the parachutes of World War II. The wealthy and privileged of Eastern Roman society demanded silk as their rightful adornment, woven into hangings for their homes, fashioned into beautiful garments, and sanctified to the glory of God through its use for vestments and paraments.
Silk was here to stay.
A Heritage of Silk: The Byzantine Silk Industry
Within two centuries of the birth of Christ, the use of silk was firmly entrenched in the Roman Empire and the unique economic, social, and liturgical power it wielded would continue for another twelve hundred years until the fall of Constantinople. Even after the destruction of the famed imperial silk workshops, silk continued to reign supreme among textiles until the development of synthetic textiles in the late nineteenth century, just a little over a hundred years ago. The history of the Orthodox Christian Church is literally interwoven with silk and if one is to have a fully informed understanding of the traditional aesthetic sensibilities of the Church, a familiarity with the importance of silk in the Byzantine world is absolutely vital.
By the time of Constantine the Great the weaving of silk had already reached a high level of sophistication in the Roman world. The use of gold threads interwoven with silk was not uncommon, as is attested by the famous account of a golden vestment given to Bishop Makarios of Jerusalem by Constantine.8 While silk thread was dyed and woven in Constantinople, the raw silk fibers themselves had to be imported from the Orient, the ancient cultures of which carefully guarded the secrets of sericulture (i.e., silk harvesting), much to their economic benefit. However by the time of Justinian, the Byzantine Empire had grown weary of the heavy costs of importing raw silk (the value of which was on a par with gold),9 and this ambitious emperor was greatly motivated to establish a domestic supply of raw silk in order to meet the growing demand for the luxury textile and procure additional revenue for his empire. A well-known tale relates that two monks traveled to the Far East at Justinian’s behest in order to discover the secrets of the valuable silkworm. In the manner of modern-day industrial spies they returned to Constantinople with silkworm cocoons hidden in their hollow walking sticks and so began the storied sericulture industry of Byzantium.
Raising silkworms is a complicated process that requires very exacting conditions, the most notable of which is an ample supply of mulberry leaves, the exclusive diet of the silkworm. In addition to raising the worms in the proper environment on the mulberry leaf diet, obtaining the valuable silk thread is no mean feat, as textile historian Adele Weibel describes:
The silkworm . . . although a voracious eater, is so lazy that during the month of its growth it must daily be li
fted onto its new supply of chopped mulberry leaves. But on the thirty-second day Bombys mori starts working and for sixty hours ceaselessly spins one long fine thread, round and round, with pendulous motion of the head and figure-of-eight movements of the fore part of the body. The spinning glands exhausted, he rests in his cocoon, and after 2–3 weeks the chrysalis breaks the wall of the cocoon and emerges as a moth. . . . the cocoon is then immersed in a hot bath, to loosen the gelatinous binder. Then four or five of the four-hundred- to a thousand-yard-long threads from as many cocoons are reeled off simultaneously and twisted into one strong thread.10
The thread that this arduous process produces is then ready to be dyed and woven into myriad designs, suitable for both secular and liturgical use.
The time involved in silk production alone was enough to warrant a very high price for the finished fabric. Yet in addition to the intrinsic worth of silk, Justinian further raised its value by instituting a unique set of laws that may be described as “hierarchy through clothing” in which the use of particular garments was restricted by social position. While the idea of specific garments being reserved for certain social positions dated back to Imperial Rome with its variety of purple-edged togas worn only in particular settings and by specific persons, Justinian took the idea of “hierarchy through clothing” and applied it to the supply of silk, effectively managing all levels of Byzantine society. Certain designs, colors, and garments were restricted to imperial usage while others were allocated for various levels of state officialdom or specific state occasions. Designated state officials even made sure that no one was buying or wearing silk to which they were not entitled.11 In the social structure of the Byzantine Empire, you were what you wore.
Beyond its value as a mark of social status, silk also functioned as a very important commodity in the Byzantine economy. It was considered wise for noblemen to keep some of their wealth as bolts of silk since they were easy to sell in an emergency. Silks were light and easily transportable, making them a common form of currency among travelers and tradesmen.12 Not only the Byzantine economy, but also Byzantine diplomacy was dependent upon silk. Silks were given as gifts on diplomatic missions and, in certain instances, their exportation was utilized to affect political relationships within a given region by either allowing or limiting access to silks.
While the finest-grade silks were the most desirable for both secular and liturgical use, their high cost prohibited their exclusive use and necessitated a more economical substitute. In situations in which first-grade silk could not be procured, “half-silks” would be used. These textiles were made by weaving silk with another fiber, typically linen, wool, cotton or hemp, to reduce their cost while still retaining some silk content.13
Silk in all its forms was a way of life for those residing in the Byzantine Empire and directly or indirectly affected almost all aspects of Byzantine life from social status to worship and even politics. This is a far cry from our approach to textiles as a status symbol in the present age: while we do retain a decided infatuation with fashion, we do so primarily based upon brand development and marketing. We generally wear what we are told is high fashion with very little ability to evaluate such clothing or textiles upon their actual merits or intrinsic value. The same medium-grade wool might be used to manufacture a $20 dress bought at a low-end department store or a $200 dress purchased at a high-end boutique and most of us would not know the difference. Only the manufacturer’s tag sewn into the garment would tell us whether we were buying status or not. Today we buy brands without any awareness of the actual value of the item we purchase, which is yet another instance of the modern preference for appearance over substance. But in Byzantium substance mattered and much of the economy and social structure was based upon either manufacturing or acquiring prized textiles. As medieval economics scholar Robert Sabatino Lopez explains:
The Byzantine Emperors or Basileis of the early Middle Ages controlled the supply of silk, purple, and gold embroidery. These precious textiles were among the paramount articles of international trade, since most countries were practically self-sufficient in regard to most of the basic necessities in the way of essential foodstuffs, woolen cloth, metals and earthenware. By releasing silk, purple, and gold embroidery for export, the Basileis could secure a considerable revenue from customs duties, and stimulate a flow of foreign gold into their states. But precious cloth was not just another commodity. It possessed special significance. It was the attire of the Emperor and the aristocracy, an indispensable symbol of political authority, and a prime requirement for ecclesiastical ceremonies. Control of precious cloth, therefore, was almost as powerful a weapon in the hands of the Byzantine Emperor as the possession of such key strategic materials as oil, coal, and iron is in the hands of the American or British government.14
The production of Byzantine silk was a sophisticated industry, built upon a specialized workforce, a complex system of regulation, and a system of imperial and private guilds, all operating under the close scrutiny of state officials. This highly organized system of manufacture allowed the Byzantine silk industry to flourish for over eight centuries, truly a remarkable achievement. The backbone of this impressive industrial infrastructure was the guild system. In Constantinople there were two main types of guilds: the imperial guilds, whose workshops were housed next to the royal palaces and which produced the most valuable, imperial silks; and the private guilds, with members producing their lesser-valued goods in various workshops scattered throughout the city.
The imperial guilds descended directly from the guild system of ancient Rome and consisted of three distinct groups: the clothiers and tailors, the purple-dyers, and the gold embroiderers.15 Membership in an imperial guild was restricted to descendants or relatives of guild members and was tightly controlled. Both men and women worked in the imperial factories in various capacities from spinning to weaving, dyeing, and embroidering. As Robert Sabatino Lopez recounts:
By that time [the tenth century] the imperial workers evidently had become a sort of aristocracy of labor. A special place on formal court processions was reserved for them. They well deserved it. Many of them were artists, not unworthy brothers of the artisans who built and decorated Saint Sophia, illustrated the manuscripts of the Byzantine libraries, or carved the ivories gracing so many European museums.16
While the imperial guilds supplied the emperor and his family and friends with the finest silks, the private guilds supplied the majority of Byzantine society with silks that were available for purchase to anyone who could afford to pay. As Lopez goes on to explain:
Any nobleman and any citizen of Constantinople was allowed to buy in the market precious garments of whatever price, quality, and size. The noblemen . . . had the special right of having their garments made in their own gynaecia [workshop]. But all residents in the capital could purchase similar fabrics from the city guilds in unlimited quantity. That is why Constantinople, showplace of the nation, impressed the foreigners with an unforgettable vision of wealth.17
These private guilds comprised five sectors of the silk industry: the merchants of raw silk, the silk spinners, the clothiers and dyers (who manufactured, dyed, and sold cloth), the merchants of domestic garments, and the merchants of foreign (imported) silk fabrics.18 Unlike the imperial guilds, the members of private guilds were not state employees, but rather independent merchants and artisans.
The system of imperial and private guilds, along with strict state regulation, is one of the primary reasons the Byzantine silk industry endured for such a considerable period of time. Just as the aesthetic tradition of the Orthodox Christian Church places a high value on stability and constancy, so the structure of the guilds similarly emphasized stability and adherence to received patterns. As we have seen before, what the Byzantine mind desired was tradition rather than innovation. The guild system, with its centuries-long management of the silk industry, was not only an important component of the economic backbone of Byzantium, but also helped to safeguard
and perpetuate the aesthetic traditions of the Church.
The high value placed upon silks within Byzantine society and their ready availability demanded that they also be used liturgically. In a city such as Constantinople, where men went about attired in finely woven, gleaming silks, it would have been inconceivable that such adornment would be confined solely to secular use. Constantinople was, above all, the city of churches and its populace sought to adorn and beautify those churches magnificently. To do so necessitated the use of silk within the church for every type of adornment.
Historically the silks devoted to Church use would have come from both kinds of workshop. In the case of gifts from the emperor or his retinue the silks would have been imperial silks, produced near the palace, of the finest quality materials, dyed with the imperial purple (Tyrian purple), and embellished with gold threads, either woven or embroidered. Gifts of silk from donors outside the imperial circle would have been purchased from the private guild workshops, and their design and quality would have been dependent on the donor’s means and the workshop’s capabilities and could have ranged from high-grade, pure silks to half-silks. So while silk was the predominant fabric used for liturgical garments and furnishings, there would have been various grades, designs, and qualities used depending on the size of the church, the wealth of the donor, and the guild from which the donor could purchase cloth. Because they had a high value to begin with and were then further imbued with symbolic significance, silks used for liturgical purposes would have been more carefully handled and preserved than those used in normal daily life. Once a liturgical silk was beginning to show wear, it would have been cut down and remade into smaller pieces or become a form of ornament, such as a border for a new vestment or parament. A number of such silks can be seen in their faded, yet still resplendent, glory in museums throughout the world.