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Posts Tagged ‘indigo’

Photo: Mark Viales/Al Jazeera.
Luis May Ku, 49, poses with his hands painted in Maya blue outside his home in Dzan, Yucatan, Mexico, on September 9, 2024.

Today’s article is about how the preparation of an ancient paint color was lost to history — and about how a contemporary Mayan’s persistence brought it back.

Mark Viales has the story at Al Jazeera.

“Surrounded by dense jungle and beneath intertwining canopies of towering trees, Luis May Ku, 49, trudges ahead through shoulder-height bushes searching for a rare plant. The oppressive 40-degree Celsius (104 Fahrenheit) heat dulls the senses, and the air, thick with humidity, clings to our skin, causing beads of sweat to form and trickle down.

“After scouring the thickets, May, an Indigenous Maya ceramicist, stumbles upon a shrub similar in shape and texture to others around him, but insists this one is special. He touches the soft, sprawling leaves and tells me it is wild ch’oj (‘indigo plant’ in Mayan, anil in Spanish) – or Indigofera suffruticosa – which is a key ingredient to create the revered Maya blue pigment.

“ ‘It took years before I found it – indigo – and most people from Yucatan believed it to be extinct on the peninsula,’ May says with a pensive look, lifting his sombrero made from interwoven huano palm leaves to wipe his brow with the back of his hand. …

“ ‘The Yucatan Peninsula is going through its worst drought in decades,’ he says. ‘Let’s rest, and I’ll tell you how I recreated Maya blue.’ …

“The bright azure color can still be seen among the ruins at the world-famous archaeological site of Chichen Itza in Yucatan on murals more than 800 years old.

“Only a handful of blue pigments, such as lapis lazuli or Egyptian blue, were created by ancient civilizations. Still, these were predominantly dyes or minerals, while Maya blue required a chemical combination of organic and inorganic substances. Before synthetic versions of blue pigment arrived during the Industrial Revolution, the color was exceedingly rare and often more expensive than gold in Europe. The semiprecious lapis lazuli stone originated in the mountains of Afghanistan and was only accessible to the wealthy. Yet, in the New World, blue pigment was plentiful and thrived.

“When the Spanish arrived in the 15th century, they exploited Maya blue, along with all the treasures they stole from Mesoamerican civilizations. The Spanish controlled the prized colorant until the late 17th to early 18th centuries when synthetic substitutes began to arrive. Common knowledge of Maya blue then disappeared until its rediscovery in the 20th century.

“In 1931, American archaeologist H.E. Merwin first found ‘a new pigment’ on murals within the Temple of The Warriors at Chichen Itza. It was given the name ‘Maya blue’ a few years later (1942) by American archaeologists R.J. Gettens and G.L. Stout. Research paused during World War II, and it was not until the 1950s that powder diffraction analysis revealed the Maya blue pigment had been made by mixing clay, palygorskite (a rare fibrous clay) and indigo. In 1993, Mexican historian and chemist Constantino Reyes-Valerio published a recipe to recreate the color using palygorskite, montmorillonite (a soft clay) and indigo leaves.

“Modern-day scientists value the mysterious paint because its unique resilience to the elements has kept it in near-perfect condition on pre-Columbian murals, artifacts and codices, even a millennium later. …

“It took scientists a long time to understand the formula, and studies are continuing. …

“May was born in Dzan, a village of 6,000 people in the western part of Yucatan about 100 kilometres (62 miles) south of the state capital city, Merida. Most of the peninsula is flat and pocketed with cenotes formed in the aftermath of the cataclysmic meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs. Yet in the municipality of Ticul, which includes Dzan, the land rises somewhat, giving way to the Puuc (‘hills’ in Maya) region, which has been inhabited since around the 7th century BC.

“Several important pre-Columbian Maya cities dot the area, such as the World Heritage Site of Uxmal, an ancient Mayan city with beautiful Puuc-style architecture. The buildings in the ruins have smooth, vertical walls with features such as columns, elaborate friezes, decorated masks and curved snakes, mostly representing the rain god, Chaak, and the feathered serpent deity, Kukulkan, respectively.

“The region remains famous today because of its high-quality pottery and clay sculptures, especially the town of Ticul, nicknamed ‘The Pearl of the South’ [3.1 miles] from Dzan. The area is also a source of palygorskite – found in caves – which some potters use to grind and mix with other clays to make pottery more durable. Here, May cut his teeth in ceramics as a student among some of the most renowned artisans in Mexico and eventually began his journey to recreate Maya blue.

“ ‘I dreamt of working as my ancestors did with clay and natural pigments,’ he says, tapping a finger on his temple. He reminds me that, like most people in his village, his mother tongue is Maya, and emphasizes that he is proud to work like his forefathers in creating Maya blue.

“May was 17 years old when he started sculpting wood while studying Maya Culture at the Autonomous University of Yucatan, taking inspiration from Maya architecture around his region. One of his passions was capturing faces with distinct Maya features. About 20 years later, he followed in the footsteps of ceramicists from Ticul and began sculpting with clay and learned from other ceramicists about adorning pottery with organic pigments such as red and white.

“However, he was also fascinated to learn that they also used synthetic pigments – like blue. On a visit to the Maya ruins in Bonampak, Chiapas, he was captivated by murals painted with a beautiful turquoise colour. May discovered that the sky-blue pigment was held sacred by his ancestors and used during rituals. After questioning his colleagues further, he learned that the knowledge needed to create this color in its traditional form had been lost in Yucatan, leading him towards a path of rediscovery of ancient techniques. …

“On January 9, 2023, May announced on social media that researchers in Italy and Mexico had validated his formula. It was the first time the world had seen Maya blue made with traditional methods in Yucatan for almost two centuries.

“David Buti, a researcher at the Institute of Heritage Science of the National Research Council in Perugia, Italy, and Rodolfo Palomino Merino, a professor of physics and mathematics at the Autonomous University of Puebla, Mexico, sent him PDFs with scientific breakdowns of their analyses. Merino’s work came through first in August 2022, with a 95 percent probability that May’s formula was genuine. In 2023, Buti’s analysis verified that it was 100 percent Maya blue. Both academic institutions confirmed that his samples, which contained palygorskite, calcium carbonate and indigo, caused an ‘intercalation between the indigo molecules’ – a chemical reaction – resulting in an authentic Maya blue.

“ ‘I was ecstatic,’ May says. ‘My ancestors used Maya blue exclusively in ceremonial practices, and even then, it was in limited supply. It was the color of the gods, and only the elite were permitted to use it.’

“ ‘As a child, my father and grandfather taught me that consistent hard work pays off. Never giving up and trying your best, even if you do not succeed, are typical Mayan values.’ “

Lots more at Al Jazeera, here. No firewall.

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Photo: Candace Dane Chambers for the New York Times.
Arianne King Comer, an artist, wearing hand-made textiles in her home studio on Wadmalaw Island, S.C. She first learned batiking at Howard University.

I was drawn to this story about about dyeing textiles on the South Carolina mainland and islands after reading Pat Conroy’s amazing memoir The Water Is Wide. That book recounts his 1960s teaching experience among impoverished black children on one of the islands — a sad and moving tale.

I am happy to learn something more upbeat about the islands.

The New York Times says reporter Patricia Leigh Brown “followed South Carolina’s indigo trail from Charleston to Johns Island to St. Helena Island” for this story.

“On a spring morning nearly a decade ago, Leigh Magar was out walking rural Johns Island, off Charleston, S.C., with her ‘snake stick,’ a wooden cane with a jangling Greek goat be. … As she tells it — and she swears this story is true — a beautiful blue dragonfly alighted on her stick and then encircled her, before fluttering toward the woods. She followed it into a thicket of pines, where she discovered a patch of wild blue indigo hidden among the trees.

Magar, a textile artist and dressmaker partial to indigo-dyed jumpers and indigo-stained silk ribbons tucked into her hair, is at the artful forefront of the ‘seed to stitch’ movement — the growing, harvesting and processing of Indigo suffruticosa, a robust plant that flourishes in the tropics and produces a deep, cherished ocean-blue color, one of humankind’s oldest dyes.

“This benign-looking bush is used in designing garments and batiks. It was a major export in 18th-century South Carolina. Like rice and cotton, the lucrative indigo crop was dependent on the skills and labor of enslaved Africans, who tended the plantation fields and extracted the dye in preparation for shipment to England for its burgeoning textile industry.

“Today, the revival of indigo by a diverse group of artists, designers and farmers is hardly confined to South Carolina. … In the United States, the passion for indigo dovetails with a growing appreciation for nontoxic plant-based dyes, including turmeric and marigolds, and the renewed focus on Africa’s role in contemporary fashion, spotlighted by recent museum exhibitions like ‘African Fashion‘ at the Brooklyn Museum and the Portland Art Museum, and by ‘Blue Gold: The Art and Science of Indigo,’ which opened at the Mingei International Museum in San Diego on Sept. 14 [until March 16, 2025]. …

“Fashion designers like Awa Meité van Til, who is based in Bamako, Mali, draw inspiration from her ancestors. In Africa, her grandmother re-dipped her clothes in what the older woman called ‘the blue of life’ when they aged, van Til recalled by email. In Lagos and other major cities, adire, a woven indigo-dyed cloth historically made by the Yoruba, is a fashion staple. …

“Magar was drawn to indigo after a career designing hand-stitched hats and fedoras for Barneys New York from her shabby chic cottage in Charleston. In 2015, she and husband, Johnny Tucker, an architect and artist, moved to a house on Johns Island. …

“Madame Magar, as she is known professionally, became infatuated with the idea of creating art from Mother Nature and began reading histories about Johns Island indigo. At the time, indigo seeds were hard to come by. Then a local botanist told her about a ‘hermit monk’ deep in the woods who not only had seeds but a thriving indigo garden. …

“The ‘hermit’ turned out to be an affable Eastern Orthodox monk named Father John, who lives down a rutted sand road. In his black cassock, he had a slightly bohemian air, with a bountiful silver beard and hair pulled back in a tight bun. …

“Father John is adept at ‘resist techniques,’ in which certain areas of a textile are blocked from receiving the dye, most often by applying molten wax (the process is often called batik). He prefers making a golden paste out of rice bran which he then applies through intricately hand-cut stencils to create patterns on fabric, in a centuries old Japanese technique known as katazome.

“He pulled out a small plastic bag full of tiny brown curlicues — they were indigo seed pods (you could hear them rattling). He demonstrated their alchemy in the yard, in tubs — one dye steeped with dried leaves, and a deeper color, from concentrate, its bubbling iridescent surface resembling a liquid stained-glass window.

“When Father John immersed his stenciled textile into the brew, it turned a distressing pickle green. But as he fished it out and exposed it to the air, it transformed into a breathtaking blue, enhanced by intricate white patterns where the rice paste had been. …

” ‘Every country that does indigo honors ancestors through this magical blue,’ said Arianne King Comer, an artist who first learned batiking at Howard University and has an indigo plant tattoo above her ankle.

“ ‘It aligned me,’ she said of her indigo education, which began in 1992, when she made her first trip to Nigeria on a grant to study with Nike Davies-Okundaye, a celebrated textile artist who has built centers for young people to learn traditional arts and crafts. …

“King Comer’s indigo-dyed tunics and silk scarves, sold on her website, practically spill out of her trailer, many employing shibori, a Japanese technique in which cloth is twisted or folded to create different patterns. … She will stay in her DIY outpost until she is able to build a center honoring historical and cultural crafts techniques, through her nonprofit, IBILE. Her work is part of the permanent collection of the Acres of Ancestry/Black Agrarian Fund, a cooperative that supports efforts to secure and protect Black farmlands.”

More at the Times, here.

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