Island Southeast Asia—the archipelago of islands that includes Indonesia, the Philippines, Malaysia, Singapore, Brunei, and Timor-Leste—is home to a striking wealth of textiles. Serving as far more than simply material for garments, cloth from this region is imbued with the power to offer spiritual protection, promote group prosperity, and maintain the balance of the cosmos. Textiles are exchanged on significant occasions that mark important rites of passage in life, from ceremonies marking the birth and naming of a child to extravagant marriage celebrations in which the exchange of textiles seals the union between families. The complex techniques and designs employed by skilled weavers speak to shared histories of migration and exchange across millennia and uniquely communicate identity, summon ancestral presence, and solidify relationships.
Textile origins
The earliest inhabitants of the islands of Southeast Asia, who settled there some 60,000 years ago, did not weave cloth; but a wave of the Austronesian migration that originated in mainland China and Taiwan about 5,500 years ago carried not just people but also techniques for weaving and spinning cotton. These common roots are evidenced across time and islands by the presence of related forms of backstrap looms and techniques such as ikat to create patterns in the cloth. In ikat—known as futus in Timor and kebat in Borneo—threads are resist-dyed to create patterns prior to being woven into a textile: individual yarns or bundles are tightly wrapped with string or tape, allowing only the exposed sections to take on the color. The resulting undyed designs feature a distinctive soft edge. In warp ikat, the most widespread variation of the technique, the warp threads are tied and resist-dyed prior to the weft threads being woven across the loom. In weft ikat, the horizontal weft threads are dyed, with the pattern emerging as the cloth takes shape. In some rare cases, weavers work in double ikat, where both the warp and weft threads are resist-dyed. Batik, another form of resist dyeing practiced in parts of the region, involves applying designs to a piece of cloth with wax before it is dyed, leaving the waxed areas their natural color.
The designs and ceremonial contexts of these textiles, as well as the stories of their origins, link them to powerful ancestral spirits, migration stories, and the arrival of novel designs and materials (such as silk and beads) from across the sea. For instance, origin stories from Timor relate how the island itself was created from textiles. In one account, a high-ranking woman was weaving the sea from clouds when, frustrated by her children playing nearby, she struck her work with her shuttle, tearing a hole in the fabric, which became the island of Timor. Another tale recounts how the island was formed from the scaly spine of the ancestral crocodile Lafaek Diak. The reptile was journeying eastward in search of land while carrying a young boy on his back when he became too tired to swim further and sacrificed himself to save his passenger. His body transformed into Timor, a narrow island marked by a dramatic ridge of mountains running down its spine.
Throughout the region, reptiles and aquatic animals such as crocodiles are associated with a watery lower realm beyond the human sphere, occupied by potentially dangerous deities. As ancestral guardians, crocodiles appear as recurring motifs on Timorese textiles. On a woman’s tubular skirt known as a tais feto , reptilian creatures are woven in a supplementary weft wrapping of light-colored and golden silk threads that stretch across the upper and lower edges of the cloth. These animated creatures have been interpreted as anthropomorphized crocodiles—not fully human, but a first generation of ancestral spirits—that were woven into the skirt for the protection and power they bring their wearer.
Elsewhere in the Sunda Islands, creation stories link the prestige of certain materials and textile embellishments with the movement of designs, materials, and techniques between islands. During the most sacred ceremonial occasions on the island of Flores, women of the Ngada people wear elaborately beaded ikat skirts called lawo butu . This example features dazzling beaded designs: red, yellow, black, and white beads configured to contrast boldly against the darker color of the flawless ikat foundation. Arranged in a series of five vertical rows in the lower half of the textile, the bead designs feature starlike disks with radiating lines interspersed with human figures, shown with their arms outstretched, and birds with open beaks. Glass beads are precious items throughout the Pacific, acquired through trade with Europe and mainland Asia. According to oral traditions on Flores, beads and other forms of wealth once grew on a single tree that was planted by two orphans many generations before. Cut down by avaricious villagers eager to claim its riches for themselves, the tree and its valuables fell and were carried away across the ocean to the neighboring island of Java. Only the beads and the knowledge of weaving remained on Flores. Thus beaded textiles are among the island’s most treasured valuables and heirlooms. The metaphor of the fallen tree may have its basis in the histories of migration that took canoes or a branch of the Ngada clan group away to Java, carrying off the knowledge, expertise, and the treasured wealth of Flores.
Mobility and cosmopolitanism
Weavers have also adopted ideas and influences from centuries of migration and trade with mainland Asia, Europe, and the Middle East and the introduction of Hinduism, Buddhism, and later Islam and Christianity to the region. Lampung, on the southern tip of Sumatra, has been a vital nexus of global trade since the first century BCE. The region is renowned for its high-grade peppercorns whose export through the Sunda Strait allowed its ruling nobles to accumulate vast wealth and influence. These maritime histories are woven into Lampung textiles, which prominently feature ship motifs. The large banners called palepai maju were owned by the Paminggir nobility, who displayed them on important ceremonial occasions such as marriages, circumcisions, and funerals. A particularly fine example bears a design of two large, elaborate ships rendered in thousands of precious glass and ceramic beads . The two vessels converge on a central tower that can be read as a mountain or sacred tree standing in the darkness of a starry night that shifts into day. Denoting a metaphysical journey, this transformation is effected by the use of midnight-blue glass beads in the first two thirds of the cloth’s length on the left and turquoise and lighter cerulean beads towards the right border. Dynamic flames in orange, red, blue, and white emanate dramatically from each of the ships and the shaft of the central tower, whose surface is animated by a luminous pattern of triangular shapes. Both materials and motifs signify the wealth and prestige of the Paminggir ruling elite, acknowledging their role at the heart of life’s transitions.
Intricately woven small square cloths called tampan were owned and used by virtually every Lampung family to consecrate ritual occasions and to assist individuals as they progressed through the diverse ceremonies that marked the various stages of life. These textiles were displayed or exchanged at births and deaths, marriages, circumcisions, and ceremonies marking changes in social rank. They served as the focal point for ceremonial meals, as the seat for the elders who oversaw traditional law, and were tied to the ridge poles of newly built houses. The designs of tampan range from abstracted and geometric designs to complex narrative scenes. Examples feature ships populated with mythological animals and voyagers settling lands and bringing new wealth to the region ; ; ; ; . The dominant ship motif encapsulates the passage of an individual from one life state to another through the metaphysical passages and rites that their associated cloths facilitate. Indeed, many examples show wedding scenes (2023.608.3). Unlike the palepai that were retained by aristocratic families, tampan were presented as valuable gifts. During ceremonies, tampan were often paired with thin rattan mats called lampit engraved with pyrographic designs applied by burning the design into the mat with a heated tool . Made by men, lampit feature flying birds, suns, and moons in symmetrical arrangements associated with the four cardinal points: north, east, south, and west. These celestial references reflect the alignment of the noble leader with cosmological order and balance, highlighting the spiritual protection and stability that he brings the community.
In Lampung, adat—a word derived from Arabic and adopted across Indonesia to describe a set of practices that preserve the links between ancestors and their descendants—governs the protocols of textiles and how they are made and worn. It is also responsible for the resilience and continuation of weaving motifs through many generations. Adat formally prescribed ceremonial skirts called tapis to be worn by young women during the rites of passage that accompanied their transition from adolescence into their childbearing years in adulthood. These sumptuous textiles ; were wrapped around a woman’s hips, safeguarding this important area of the female body, preserving links to past ancestors, and protecting the site that would conceive and carry the future lineage of the community.
Balancing the cosmos
Skilled weavers are understood to possess the power to harmonize the dynamic forces that the universe holds in opposition: male and female, hot and cool, upper and lower realms. Throughout Island Southeast Asia, weaving is generally the domain of women, with the handweaving of fabrics considered “cool” work in counterpoint to the “hot” qualities of other arts and practices associated with men. Weaving can also be a means for women to gain prestige in a way that complemented the status men once acquired through headhunting and ritual warfare. According to myth, such roles were assigned well before birth: In Borneo, the Iban people recount that at conception a child is offered either a spear or a shed stick (weaving tool); based on their selection, the child will become either a headhunter and male or a weaver and female. Textiles themselves could also be gendered, with the large pua ; ; used to demarcate sacred spaces in headhunting rites considered male, while skirts called kain are associated with women.
The very act of weaving these sacred cloths could be highly dangerous for women. A weaver must employ potent charms to enlist the divine support of ancestors and deities lest the power of pua and their motifs be turned against her, potentially causing sickness and even death. As a result, women alternate between weaving pua and less spiritually charged materials. Powerful pua patterns have names, or titles, that relate to their status and ceremonial efficacy. The designs of kain kebat are typically not titled and not considered bisa (venomous); therefore, a weaver is safe to create them without danger of supernatural repercussions if she fails to maintain the appropriate protocol in their making. Despite this, the designs of kain can be just as complex as those of pua and allow weavers more creative freedom. Woven designs can be revealed by gods to weavers in dreams or passed on through generations of women to preserve links to their spiritual and ancestral origins.
Across Island Southeast Asia, skilled artisans who earn the title of master weaver continue to expertly spin thread, control natural dyes, and craft textiles that weave together identity, ancestry, harmony, and cosmology.