Many Central Asian nomadic groups traditionally lived in round, portable tents—which we know as yurts (yurt comes from the Mongol word, ger). Dominating the interior of a Kyrgyz yurt (boz üy) was the tush ki’iz, a large-scale patchwork panel that hung on the back wall opposite the door. The tush ki’iz created a striking backdrop for the bedding and pillows that were stored in colorful piles on top of decorative trunks. It also served to designate status for those who sat under it.

A defining feature of the Kyrgyz tush ki’iz is the triangular amulets—protective symbols—that extend down from the bottom edge of the horizontal band. Makers also frequently incorporated old family textiles into a new tush ki’iz, thereby displaying the handiwork and motifs of three or more generations. In these ways, the tush ki’iz was a kind of family talisman or charm

Grassy steppes, wind-blown deserts, perilous mountain ranges and fertile valleys comprise the richly varied geography of Central Asia. This is the land that once hosted Silk Road caravans, nomadic empires and oasis kingdoms. Modern day Central Asia is home to many different ethnic groups, diverse people who have always intermingled in a region that exists today as five separate nations: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan.

Although Central Asia’s landscape, language and cultural traditions provide great diversity, there is also common ground created through cross-cultural fertilization, which we can see in the vivid quilts and patchwork of the area.

The five Central Asian republics: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan. Land-locked Central Asia is located in the heart of the Asian continent and is bordered by neighbors such as Russia, China, Iran, and Afghanistan.

Kurak and kurama are the Turkic words most Central Asians use for “patchwork.” Some scholars believe people have made kurak for over a millennium. Others tie its history to the 19th-century expansion of trade with Russia, which brought new materials to the region.

Regardless of its beginnings, patchwork’s primary role has long been as a protective charm used by brides, new mothers and children to guard against sorcery, sickness and evil spirits. Triangular fabric amulets (tumar) attached to clothing and animal trappings were believed to appease supernatural elements, protect against harm and keep the mystical forces of nature in harmony. The repeating triangles commonly featured in Central Asian patchwork—such as the ones found on these mirror holders—served a similar purpose, scaring off the “evil eye” and other bad thoughts and intentions

Weddings are one of the most important individual, family and community events in Central Asian society. The occasion is marked in different ways, but patchwork is a common element to many ethnic groups’ celebrations.

The Turkmen bride, for instance, traditionally traveled to her future husband's home perched high atop a camel within a domed palanquin (kejebe) decorated with patches, strips of cloth and auspicious symbols. The camel, too, wore patchwork trappings (düýe başlyq), knee-pads (düýe dizliq) and side panels (kuroma). A grand procession of family members on richly outfitted camels followed.

As a young woman and her family prepared for her wedding, they traditionally produced a dowry, which consisted of objects that would be useful to the woman in her new married life. They made utilitarian items such as bedcovers, wall hangings, tablecloths, mattresses and clothing, as well as textiles specific to the wedding ceremony—often incorporating patchwork. 

One significant dowry article of the Kyrgyz, Kazakhs, Tajiks and Uzbeks was the wedding curtain, usually made by the mother of the bride. It hung first in the home of the bride and then transferred to the home of her husband, where it created an area of privacy for the young couple.

Pregnancy and birth, an auspicious time in Central Asia, is celebrated with joy as well as trepidation, for fear of attracting malevolent spirits. According to legend, 40 days after the birth of her child, a Kyrgyz mother would gather pieces of cloth from 40 neighboring yurts to make a talismanic shirt for her child. In Turkmenistan, mothers sewed patchwork garments (kurte) for their children using thick, heavy thread so that the life of the child would be strong and long, while leaving the hems raw so as not to stunt the child’s growth. For additional protection, children also wore a patchwork or appliqué bib-like garment (kirlik), over their clothes.

Central Asian mothers used layered fabrics and quilting to protect their children from the natural elements. A two-part quilted cover made specifically to fit over a cradle shielded a baby from dust and light, while quilted robes kept a child safe from the chill or the rays of the sun.

In both nomadic and settled regions, the bride’s dowry consisted of a number of important patchwork (kurak) articles. Long rectangular mattresses (korpecho, juurkan) stuffed with cotton for sitting and sleeping, were pieced and quilted and a variety of wall hangings featured kurak as well. Women from wealthy families produced quilts of luxurious silks—including space-dyed ikat fabrics.

One special object was the suzani, an intricately embroidered and quilted textile from Uzbekistan and northern Tajikistan. Suzanis were used as quilts for the bridal bed, as dividers between sleeping and living quarters, and as prayer rugs and wrapping cloths. Embroidered motifs often had symbolic meaning. For instance, the ewers (pouring vessels) seen on the exhibition’s suzani are symbols of hospitality since, traditionally, a young woman or child poured water from a ewer over the hands of arriving guests as a sign of welcome.

Traditionally, Central Asian men, women and children all wore similarly long and spacious robes (chapan or khalat), which were often lined with printed fabric and faced with brocade, space-dyed (ikat) or striped fabric. Khorezm robes from the north of Uzbekistan were known for their machine quilting in finely spaced vertical rows, which produced an iridescent sheen across the garment's surface. Today, Kyrgyz men and young boys still wear heavy, padded and quilted velvet robes lined with printed cotton.

A unique article of Central Asian clothing is the Kyrgyz and Kazakh apron-skirt (beldemchi). Made by the mother of a bride as part of her dowry, it was most often embroidered, but also pieced. After one year of marriage and her first child, a new bride would exchange her marriage headdress for a beldemchi, symbolizing her transition into the community as a mother. Women wore the beldemchi over their dress and trousers during celebrations and when visiting friends and relatives. 

Constructed with an inlay technique, shyrdak felt carpets are made only by the Kyrgyz, Kazakhs, and semi-nomadic Uzbeks. The shyrdak master simultaneously cuts two pieces of felt in contrasting colors with a knife or scissors into a traditional pattern, and reassembles them with the positive of the first color set into the negative of the alternate color. She joins the seams by hand, then covers them with fine, braided threads.

Patchwork is still made in Central Asia, both by traditional communities and by contemporary artists, and the exhibition’s felt shyrdak represent a revival in traditional craftsmanship. The set was made by an artisan who is part of Art Group Tumar, an organization whose goal is to unite artists, designers and craftspeople who create imaginative, high-quality products inspired by the national crafts of Kyrgyzstan.

Across Central Asia, people tie fabric, scarves, strips, and patches onto bushes and trees that dot the expansive landscape. Each small scrap of fabric is believed to ward off destructive forces. In Turkmenistan, people tie fabrics to the chile agach, a structure that often takes the form of tree limbs leaning against one another. It is believed that by passing through, under, or around this colorfully decorated “tree,” danger will be averted and ailments will remain with the fabric strips.

Central Asian patchwork holds a power similar to those sacred scraps. Fabrics sewn together seam-to-seam do not simply form a physical object, but they also represent a sacred space, protecting all within its embrace or proximity. 

Think about the ways in which fabrics play a role in your life. Were they part of a pivotal, transformative moment, such as a wedding or birth? Or are they part of your daily life, embedded in your everyday routine? How is fabric special or sacred to you?