Tribal jewelry of central Asia
By Ilene Sternberg

Jewelry from central Asia is most often made of silver, with stones like carnelian, turquoise, and coral. At left, a Turkoman rhomboid pendant of fire-gilded silver and carnelian; at right, a five-element Uzbek nozi-gardon of turquoise, coral, and silver. The birds on the central pendant represent delight and protection, while the fish shapes hanging below represent male fertility.

It’s October 2000. My friend Eve and I sit, enrapt, listening to an archaeologist describe our upcoming tour of Uzbekistan. The very names of the cities — Samarkand, Tashkent, Bukhara, Khiva — conjure romantic images we’d envisioned from years of hearing, reading, dreaming about the Silk Route. Opulence, glory, the mystery and adventure — Tamerlane, Genghis Khan — Oh, we can hardly wait

“Will we be able to bring back jewelry?” we ask, salivating at the prospect. “We hear that we’re not allowed to take anything over 60 years old out of the country.”

“Well, anything you’d find over 60 years old would be old and all ding-ged up,” he says, making two syllables out of the word.

“Yes! Ding-ged!! That’s what we like — ding-ged!”

Our heads swivel toward each other in disbelief. “This guy’s an archaeologist?” I whisper to Eve, “and he doesn’t appreciate ‘old and ding-ged’?”

“We’ve got to educate these people,” she mumbles back.

For many moons, my pal and I have been collecting old tribal jewelry from Central Asia — Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, and Kyrgyzstan, all pit stops on the ancient Silk Route between China and the West. Uzbekistan, where we are headed, was also a hop, skip, and jump from the Lazurite Route, which connected Badakhshan, a region in northeast Afghanistan rich in mines of lapis, rubies, and other treasures, to the Middle East, the Mediterranean, and India. It was also close to the Nephrite Route, the jade connection between China and eastern Turkestan (Turkestan being an old term for Central Asia). So it’s no surprise that the jewelry from this region is fabulous — fire-gilded silver, carnelian, turquoise, coral — graceful, elegant, and daring.

Clockwise from left: a pointed silver pendant with turquoise and carnelian; a silver and enamel prayer box, with coin dangles and paper prayer insert (Kultyk tumor), 19th century; a crescent-shaped Kazakh silver fire-gilded pendant with carnelians. Photo: Todd Murray.

In our years of collecting, we have amassed choice necklaces, prayer boxes, rings, heavy bracelets, pendants, earrings, buckles, buttons, hats, headdresses, and all manner of silver dingle-dangles, and melodic bells that we use to embellish jewelry, purses, jackets, and anything that doesn’t run away when we approach. These pieces are so eye-catching that they never fail to elicit ogles and comments wherever we go.

The jewelry is that of tribal people — Uzbeks, Tajiks (Tadjiks), Kazakhs, Kyrghyz (Kirgiz), and Turkmen (Turkoman). Many of the objects came from Afghanistan and Pakistan, where commerce, until recently, was more open, and where many of these people live. Although these groups were introduced to Islam centuries ago, few women accept the veil. Their religion is a blend of Islam and previous traditions, evident in their daily lives, as well as in their adornments, many of which serve as good luck charms. They proudly keep the traditional ornamentation from disappearing into history.

Central Asian jewelry is so striking that the elaborate stone-inlaid items, stamped and engraved with graceful designs, might seem to be purely for the sake of adornment; in reality, almost all are amuletic in intent. In societies where superstition is prevalent, those most in need of protection (usually women, children, and sometimes livestock) are given specific amulets to wear.

Except for Tajiks, who speak a form of Persian and are descended from the earliest Indo-European settlers in the region, most Central Asian tribes were nomads of Turco-Mongolian heritage. Since their wandering ways have brought them to Iran, China, Tibet, Afghanistan, Mongolia, Iraq, and elsewhere, there are Kazakhs living in Turkmenistan and Turkmen in Tajikistan, and there is often a mingled influence of cultures in jewelry design and function.

Hardly everyday wear, headdresses such as this one are usually worn on ceremonial occasions, such as weddings. The details on such adornment carry great symbolic meaning, usually relating to protection or fertility. Photo: Todd Murray.

UZBEKISTAN. Tajiks, Indians, and Persians were the primary artisans making silver jewelry. The jewelry that came from some 400 workshops that once functioned in Bukhara and in other market towns in present-day Uzbekistan, many in the northwestern province of Khorezm, have a style distinctly different from the massive, solid objects of the Turkmen. Intricate filigreed diadems, earrings, and pendants are embedded with turquoise, pearls, and coral.

Some of these delicately styled items, which I purchased from expatriate Russians living in the U.S. on a fortuitous Internet encounter, were acquired, I was told, in the late ‘60’s at a Sunday bazaar in a small town in the Bukhara region. “The old woman who sold them said this was family jewelry that had been passed down from mother to daughter, from one generation to the next,” the English-speaking contact, Elena, tells me. An Uzbek baby girl customarily receives a tiny bracelet and earrings as a gift from her grandmother, and, thereafter, the life of an Uzbek woman has a continuing connection with jewelry. Women traditionally wore forehead and chest decoration, earrings, bracelet, beads, and pendants for bottom of braids, which are worn down the back. Today’s woman in Uzbekistan is rarely seen without earrings, bracelet, rings, or beads in her attire. The Uzbekis we encounter are well dressed, although the average per capita income is under $700 U.S. (and Uzbekistan is better off financially than other countries in the region.)

One piece I bought through Elena is a pectoral ornament from Samarkand, late 19th-early 20th century, called a nozi-gardon in Uzbek. Uzbeks and Tajiks alike wear variations of this necklace. The typical nozi-gardon has seven elements connected by chains, while some have five. The little rectangular boxes are hand-stamped gilded silver, decorated with turquoise, and filigreed elements connect the boxes with coral beads. The central part is a “heart” decorated with sectional inlays of turquoise, and the upper part has a filigree decoration. Two birds on the central element are a symbol of delight and protection, while the little hanging parts are little fishes — symbols of male virility. The four boxes and the heart are connected to each other with silver chains. “The necklace jingles when a woman walks, and the Uzbeks believe this sound scares away evil spirits,” Elena tells me. A seven-element nozi-garden I bought from a west coast American dealer has blue enameled silver boxes and pendant.

Elena also has up for grabs a bridal set from Khorezm, “‘City jewelry’ from a rich family,” she says. “Khorezm city jewelry is more sophisticated, fragile, and has a higher value at the market.” The items consist of long, elaborate pendants hung from the headdress at the temples; an ornate hat with countless silver forehead dangles; coral necklaces; 5-1/2"-long earrings; ornaments worn at the nape of the neck; a nose ring; three connected gracefully enameled necklaces that can be worn as a belt; three prayer boxes I’ve yet to figure out how were worn; and two pectoral or waist-worn chatelaines with keys, silver tools to clean teeth, ears, and nose, a perfume bottle, plus a case for tiny eyebrow tweezers. And those were only the parts I could see in her scan.

This Tajik-style jewelry of the Khorezm region features mostly thin sheet fire-gilt silver, finely filigreed on the surface, sometimes with enamel work. Johannes Kalter remarks in Uzbekistan; Heirs to the Silk Road that this jewelry shows “a grotesque discrepancy between the work expended on them and the modest value of the materials involved.” While they contrast sharply with the bold, substantial pieces of the Turkmen, which Eve favors, I appreciate the intricacies of the work, and find the bejeweled necklaces and nielloed and enameled prayer/amulet boxes (tumar) very attractive when worn. Kyrgyz women wear lots of coral and turquoise, as do their Mongolian neighbors, set in filigree in the Tajik style.

In museums in Tashkent and Samarkand, Eve and I see variations of jewelry we already own. Beautiful pieces are for sale in the museum gift shops and in the bazaar. Wanting to contribute to the economy, not to mention our collections, we buy, but only after obtaining proper customs receipts and assurance of help should any problems arise when we are leaving for home. (We imagine “help” may involve wiring our loved ones, advising them that our vacation has been extended for an undetermined length.)

Central Asia has long been a crossroads, where the silk route connected China to the west, the lazurite route connected the mine-rich area of northeastern Afghanistan to the Middle East, and the nephrite (jade) route ran between China and eastern Turkestan — so it’s no wonder that jewelry from this region is fabulous.

KAZAKHSTAN. In Kazakhstan, the metalsmith’s craft flourished in the 19th and 20th centuries, using an inventory of swage block, files, vices, pincers, chisels, draw-plates, punches, scissors, hammers, and only a few other tools. Master silversmiths, whose names are still honored today by Kazakhs, melted down Russian, Chinese, and Polish coins for silver. Unlike Uzbek and Tajik ornaments, Kazakh pieces are austere and large, though not as massive as those of the Turkmen. Just as in Turkmen jewelry, Kazakh ornaments abound with stylized plant and animal motifs, such as the ram’s horn, trefoil, as well as in geometrical figures: rhombi, triangles, dots, circles, and S-shaped symbols.

Kazakh jewelry is easily distinguished from other Central Asian styles. Using such stones as topaz, pearls, rough and faceted diamonds, rubies, crystal, carnelian, turquoise, mother-of-pearl, and coral, Kazakh artisans employ diverse methods, sometimes depending on what part of the country they come from. Most often seen is an item with a raised bezel with ruby-colored glass behind a filigree vitrine — like a magnificent miniature stained glass window. Engraving, openwork, applied and grain filigree, and niello techniques are also common. For engraving, a surface is filed clean and a design is engraved with a chisel, after which sheet gold is pressed into the outline. Filigree work, once executed only for wealthier clientele, is now more widespread. In openwork filigree, the elements of the pattern are soldered together; in applied and grain filigree, the finished design is soldered onto the metal. Several methods of niello work came into play some time in the 19th century. Granular work is traditional in southwestern Kazakhstan, while in western Kazakhstan, silver articles were often gilded, and differ markedly from the other ornaments in appearance and decoration techniques.

During our visit, Eve and I hear that the President of Kazakhstan has appealed to citizens to donate gold and silver jewelry to help shore up the country’s gold and hard currency reserves, and that some regional governors are imposing a $50 tax on families that refuse to comply. I take a Paxil.

Even though carpets, embroideries, textiles, and other magnificent handcrafted items are what most visitors seek, we are still hooked on jewelry. We decide to take a taxi to a museum, which we’re told has a fine collection, and discover that there are no taxis, as such. One simply waves down a car — any car — on the street, declares a destination, offers $2 American and hops in. Throwing all common sense out the cracked car window, we hitchhike all over Tashkent to track down Turkmen gems. (Please don’t tell my mother.)

TURKMEN. Of all the Central Asian tribal ornaments, the most fabulous and most recognizable belong to the Turkmen — extraordinary horseman, one-time slave traders, caravan raiders, dreaded outlaws, scourge of the steppes. According to Kate Fitz Gibbon, of Anahita Gallery in Santa Fe, New Mexico, who, along with her husband, Andrew Hale, has traveled extensively in Central Asia, and written an excellent book on their textiles, IKAT; Splendid Silks of Central Asia, “The Turkoman cultural identity was formed after centuries of living in close proximity on the steppe. There is no Turkoman race, but there is a Turkoman language, and a well-defined ethnicity that separates them from other Turkic language groups in the same geographical area like the Uzbek, the Kirgiz, and the Kazakh.”

Fire-gilded silver triple asyk necklace, with carnelian; fire-gilded Turkoman bracelet with carnelians; a selection of silver rings, set with carnelian and red glass. All from central Asia. Photo: Todd Murray.

While some Turkic invaders of the region settled in and took up agriculture, others practiced pastoral nomadism until the beginning of the 20th century, raising sheep and, especially, horses. Some of the most beautiful baubles are, in fact, horse trappings, since the Turkmen (and Kazakhs, as well), revere their horses as friends, a source of livelihood, a mode of transportation, a form of currency, and a measure of wealth. To see some truly spiffy horse gewgaws, check out Kalter’s The Arts and Crafts of Turkestan.

Ancestor worship is common to Central Asians. In the mythological consciousness of the Turkoman, positive magic power is attributed to the decorative details crafted into their jewelry. Water signs, mountain motifs, tree-of-life, ancestral symbols, horn representations, leaf and blossom designs, are paired, much as in the Chinese concept of yin and yang, into male-female, east-west, sun-moon, bright-dark, etc., in a bid to preserve the balance of order in their environment. These designs emanate from early animist traditions largely unchanged despite Muslim influence. Many customs combining shamanistic ritual and Islamic practices involve using amulets and talismans to destroy malevolent forces. For an in-depth discussion of these symbols, consult Schletzer’s Old Silver Jewellery of the Turkoman.

In the most commonly used jewelry techniques, silver is melted over a clay hearth fire fanned by hand bellows. Thin silver plates are poured out, and pattern lines are chased, engraved with gouges, or hammered in with punches. Silver wire is drawn and corded, gently hammered into engraved notches, and soldered. To form a gold amalgam with a very low melting point, gold plates are heated and mixed with about six times the amount of mercury. The surface to be gilded is amalgamated with quicksilver and nitric acid. The alloy is applied to the surface with a copper brush, and heated so the mercury evaporates.
Silver wire is cut into tiny sections and heated on a perforated plate. When molten, the silver falls through into a bowl filled with cold water and hardens; the resulting granules are soldered onto the jewelry base. To decorate, gilding is used to accentuate and define incised lines. Fretwork is used on borders of larger elements.

Solid gold is never found as the primary metal of old Turkmen jewelry, and is often avoided by some Muslims. “Gold jewelry is inexpensive,”claims a Kyrgyzstan Web site, “because Kyrgyzstan takes the seventh position in the world gold stocks rating,” and further mentions, “Kyrgyzstani women prefer silver to gold because it protects against misfortune.”

Among the Turkmen, young girls of marriageable age and women who haven’t yet had children wear amulets and talismans specifically intended to exert a magical power on men and on their own fertility. In their hostile environment, where infant mortality was not long ago 60 percent, the very survival of their race relies on somehow tempering the capricious forces of life. Turkmen children are protected by triangular cloth talismans called doga (an example of which hangs from the top of the headdress shown on page 20, another of my Internet purchases).

Upon reaching puberty, a Turkmen girl wears her hair in four braids, usually two in front, hanging down the chest, and two down the back. Married women wear two braids down the back. The distinctive heart-shaped asyk, a wedding gift from the groom’s family, is a braid adornment for the bottom of the bride’s plaits, usually hidden by veils or scarves. This is probably the most universally recognized Turkmen ornament. Its myriad manifestations — combinations of two and three of the shapes, variously embellished with chased and impressed patterns — could, in themselves, comprise a magnificent collection, were a jewelry connoisseur to concentrate on that item alone. They also make nifty necklace pendants.

Another distinctive ornament is the dagdan, or tree-of-life symbol, named for the Dagdan tree, from which potent wooden amulets are fashioned. The prevalent ram’s horn motif in Central Asian jewelry is associated with many childbearing rituals. (When in doubt, you can usually be safe in guessing that the desired effect of an amulet is something involving fertility.)

A large (four- to six-inch) circular jewel-studded silver button or pin used as a closure at the throat of a dress or coat is the guljaka, originally worn by Caspian Sea area Turkmen women of the Yomud tribe, but later adopted by others. The circular form represents the rotation of the world and the arrangement of the stones and motifs reflects the Turkmen view of time and space.

The magnificently detailed bracelets with fire-gilded patterns on silver, embellished with rows of carnelian, are worn in pairs. Most consist of two rows, but can have as many as eight rows, reaching from wrist to elbow. Ones with a single row were brought to the West only to suit our taste.

The carnelian, usually set in raised round or oval bezels, is considered Allah’s favorite stone by many Muslims. Some Turkmen claim it protects the eyes from disease; other sources claim the Turkmen believe it gives general protection from death and illness and brings the wearer good luck and peace. In some cases, another substance stands in for carnelian — most commonly, red glass. The Yomud tribe uses other colors of stone or glass, and Yomud jewelry is further distinguished by its use of thin gilded silver repoussé plaques soldered on top of a plain silver base, according to Fitz Gibbon.

And, indeed, the over 30 different tribal groups have distinctive styles. The jewelry we see most are from the Yomud, Ersari, and Tekke tribes. It helps to remember these three if you really want to turn heads when you show off your jewelry. Saying “Turkoman” is not nearly as impressive as saying “Tekke Turkoman” and being right. We really impressed our tour group with our spouting off; before long, they were consulting us on potential purchases.

Although there are still a few conveniences that haven’t quite caught on yet in most of Central Asia (credit cards, for instance), we found there were treasures to be had — dinged and otherwise — for American dollars, and we have many fond memories of the people and the historical riches. As the Lonely Planet guide for Kazakhstan states, referring to a traditional game that dates from the time of Genghis Khan and is wildly popular throughout Central Asia, “Any country which uses a headless goat carcass as a polo puck obviously has lots to offer.”