History in every thread

 The glittering silk and gleaming gold and silver threads, the colourful embroidery and the unique patterns are mesmerising. People gather around the antique textiles and breathe in the sweet scent of the powder once used to perfume clothing in the royal court.

 More than 100 venerable fabrics are on display in the exhibition “Satavasa Pha Boran Tai” (“A Century of Tai Textiles”) at the Support Arts and Crafts International Centre of Thailand in Ayutthaya.

“These clothes and textiles come from my private collection,” says Paothong Thongchua, a renowned historian who specialises in traditional Thai fabrics and owns more than 6,000 pieces. “We’re showing fabrics woven by people of the Tai, or Dai, language group around Asia – in Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, Cambodia and southern China. We also have antique clothes from the Siamese royal court and from neighbouring countries.”

Paothong is taking a risk sharing his collection at the centre, where there are no temperature or humidity controls. “At home I keep it in a closed, dark room in the middle of my house to protect the material from sunlight, dust and humidity,” he says. “Some of these pieces are 200 years old! 

“But here, even flash photography is allowed – I encourage people to take as many photos as they like – but I ask them to please not touch the clothes, since they’re very fragile.”

Paothong emphasises the textiles’ historical and even literary value. “Many of the patterns are ‘legendary’ in the sense that no one can weave them anymore. Here you can see the real clothes you’ve heard of or read about in classic Thai literature. You can learn about weaving techniques like yok muk, which uses special sets of warp threads. You can see the similarity between the ‘flowing water’ pattern of pha laai nam lai from Nan province and the beautiful Burmese luntaya-acheiq, a name that also means ‘flowing water’.”

It’s easy to imagine people tossing out clothes like these once they became too decrepit to wear. Paothong and his students have been fortunate to find many examples instead simply stored away and forgotten. In each sample he can read the way people lived in a bygone era.

“We can’t only imagine what people ate 200 years ago, but these fabrics tell us a lot about the way of life.” 

Women dressed differently across Southeast Asia, he says. “In some cultures they wore pha sin, and in others they wore trousers or maybe jong kraben, the traditional Siamese way – the cloth wrapped around the waist and then the ends pulled between the legs and tucked in at the back. 

 “The way people dressed actually tells us where they lived. Some hilltribe people still wear a knee-length skirt because they have to climb steep hills, while people in the lowlands wore the ankle-length pha sin.”

And because most hilltribes were migratory in the past, it was more convenient to carry along a smaller waist-loom. “That’s why the cloth they made is narrow. With a waist-loom, the weaver begins by just attaching one end of the warp yarn to a pole and the other end to her waist.”

Paothong points out that the silk found in Bhutan is different from that of Thailand and Laos. “Because Bhutan is colder, they use raw silk, with a thicker, rougher thread, and the sericin – the silk gum – stays intact, helping to keep in body heat.”

Among the many differences, there are similarities. “Antique clothes among Tai speakers share certain characteristics: They’re hand woven from natural fibres like cotton, kanchong, the silkworm’s cocoon and the wool of lamb and yak, and they use natural dye. 

“It’s very interesting to see that almost all Tai-speaking people in all cultures know how to use hom – indigo – to dye cloth blue. They also use lac for red and ebony for black. It’s as though there’s a link in the knowledge spread around Asia.”

It was customary for women to learn to weave at a young age. Mastering the art meant they were ready to start their own family. In many cultures women had to weave their own wedding dress, as well as cloth to give their new in-laws. The most beautiful woven cloth was used in religious ceremonies, with the pattern typically depicting the simple village life and aspects of nature they knew much better than we do today.

The textiles of the royal court were an order by themselves, of course. Some samples were imported from India, China, Persia and even England. They were much more elaborate, both to honour the royal recipient and to show off the artisan’s skill. And the material and the pattern reflected the wearer’s rank. 

Paothong shows a chalong pra-ong krui klum – a royal costume – that belonged to King Chulalongkorn, made from pha bu-nga prong, which, despite its Thai name, was imported from Manchester, England, then the textile capital of the West. Pha bu-nga prong looks like gauze or mosquito netting but with an octagonal mesh rather than square or hexagonal. 

“The gleaming embroidery threads are real gold and silver,” says Paothong. “King Chulalongkorn had many royal outfits because his reign was so long. Chalong pra-ong krui klum was used on official occasions like Coronation Day and the Royal Barge Procession.”

He notes, too, that this same design was used in the academic gowns for Chulalongkorn University. It was King Vajiravudh’s way of honouring his father for supporting higher education.

The centre is also hosting exhibitions on Her Majesty the Queen’s support for Thai textiles and on costumes of the Rattanakosin Period.

  DRESSED UP

  “Satavasa Pha Boran Tai” continues through August at the Support Arts and Crafts International Centre of Thailand in Bangsai, Ayutthaya. For more details, call (035) 367 054.