NAVAJO RUG WEAVERS

If anyone tells you how their beautiful “old Navajo rugs,” like Persian ones, were “woven hundreds of years ago,” don’t you believe it. Navajo rug-weaving is a relatively Johnny-come-lately with a short history but a fascinating one. Navajo Indians call themselves “Dineh,” or “the People.” They are believed to have come into the Southwest “from the North” at least five or six hundred years ago-well before sheep, horses, and cattle were introduced to America by the Spaniards in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. A relatively unimportant tribe, they cultivated a few crops, hunted, gathered roots and seeds. Their clothing and blankets were made of animal skins. They were among the mightiest raiders of all American Indians, and they proved themselves considerably brighter than many modern-day warriors. They got more than an increased public debt from their wars.

From the Pueblo Indians whom they pestered continuously until New Mexico was conquered by the U. S. in 1846 they presumably borrowed the idea of the loom. Pueblo Indians had from prehistoric times woven beautiful fabrics from wild cotton which grew plentifully in the Southwest until grazing livestock was introduced. And from the Spaniards, against whom they fought with pleasure at every opportunity. the Navajo stole not only the idea of wool, but live sheep. Instead of eating their booty as was customary, they bred the sheep and developed flocks of their own.

This may be a “scientific” explanation of how the Navajo came to be the weavers of “the finest blankets in the world,” a reputation they earned well over a hundred years ago and havekept polished bright down to this day. They themselves have an entirely different explanation.

Many, many years ago a Kisani woman was taught to spin; her teacher was the world’s oldest spinner, the spider, and she became known as the Spider Woman. As a tribute to her and to her teacher, all Navajo blankets were once made with a small hole in the center duplicating the spider-hole in the center of a web. With the advent of the Indian trader in the late 19th century this practice was discouraged. A few of the “old ones” continued to put in the spider hole with great cleverness. Sometimes it could be discovered only by light showing through the blanket; sometimes it was hidden not in the center of the rug, but in a diamond or some other unit of the design. It survives today chiefly in the Navajo ceremonial or medicine basket.

Not only was the spider hole a tribute to the Spider Woman and her clever spinning teacher, it was a way for a weaver to get the “cobwebs out of her brain,” quite literally. The Navajo weaver uses no model for her rug; its pattern is carried entirely in her mind as a design spun there by the old Spider Woman. Without a spider hole as a means of escape, naturally any weaver would eventually be driven insane by carrying so many “webs” in her mind.

The entire rug-weaving industry, the chief means of livelihood of the Navajo, is today so similar to what it was in the beginning that it is no wonder their rugs, when skillfully and artfully done, are among the most beautiful modern textiles in the world. The best are not surpassed by the ancient MusLins and Cashmeres of India, by linens of the Egypt of antiquity, nor by rugs of the Orient. With their primitive implements and methods they produce a fine, smooth, firm rug by a technique requiring such hand skill it must be learned in childhood and practiced for many years. Even then a good weaver must possess, from the beginning, a very superior craft intelligence. Only this combination produces the superb Navajo rug-a tapestry-style textile not duplicated anywhere in the world today.

Sixty thousand Early Americans are today scrabbling for a living on their bleak 16,000,000-acre Navajo Reservation in northeastern Arizona, northwestern New Mexico, and southeastern Utah. Their number of sheep per family has been constantly dwindling-both by Government edict and by the ever-increasing barrenness of their dry land from over-grazing Blanket or rug wool is spread out on sloping stones and washed by pouring hot water over it-water in which yucca roots form the "soapsuds." Less colorful but more effective is the newer method of washing the wool in tubs. And some traders, to get the best results for their superior weavers, even have the wool commercially cleaned to remove all grease and to guarantee that it takes the dyes well. Dyes used for Navajo wool have perhaps had more to do with variations in value and types than any other single factor. Weaving factors-the number of times the yarn is spun, and the energy with which it is beaten down during weaving, and choice of pattern-all are important. But the history of the dyes and colors of their rugs is the history of Navajo rug-making in microcosm. Most Navajo sheep are white. Out of a dozen or so one And erosion. But each spring little corrals of brush are built throughout the reservation. Inside each corral will be a dozen or more sheep being shorn under the supervision of a vigorous Navajo woman. The Navajo mother can throw, tie, and shear a sheep more skillfully than anyone else, but the whole family helps-even poor relatives who come to the shearing as a festival. They get plenty of mutton and coffee, for a change, and they are usually given some wool for their own weaving in exchange for their help. The poorest Navajo owns no sheep. Shorn wool is sorted into three qualities. Fine short hair is sacked and sold to traders, since it cannot be used for weaving. Rough parts are set aside for the coarse saddle blankets, in themselves among the most beautiful Navajo handiwork. The finest portions of long fiber are used in rugs.will be a rusty black, one a reddish brown. These are the "basic colors," with grey by mixing black and white. The oldest Navajo rugs had only these four colors-white, black, brown, and grey. The first dye was made to intensify the rusty black to a blue-black; it was made from sumac leaves and twigs, yellow ochre, and piñon gum. Rug patterns were either plain or striped. Their simplicity in pattern and color is still sought by many connoisseurs, but they are too plain to be popular with most buyers and are relatively rare today. While the Navajo did not borrow the spinning wheel which had been introduced in Europe during the 14th century, because it was too clumsy for frequent transportation on half-broken horses, they did greatly admire the bright colors of the uniforms worn by Spanish soldiers, and the scarlet of The infantry was their favorite. Presumably they secured such uniforms from dead Spaniards. At any rate, they got hold of some. They unraveled the woolen material and used the yarn. These were the first "bayeta" blankets, perhaps the rarest of all old Navajo rugs. They are made of narrow stripes of red Spanish uniform broadcloth yarn rewoven with wider stripes of natural-colored wool. Later bayetas were made by unraveling and retwisting English baize and were developed about the time more modern geometrical designs were introduced into the patterns. Both types of bayeta blankets are very rare. Only an exceptional expert can identify one with certainty. One is authenticated, finally, by its "feel." The ordinary tests of thread, color, etc., are not enough. A true bayeta is identified "beyond all doubt" only through the touch of an expert's fingers.

In their fondness for bright colors the Navajo perfected many beautiful soft vegetable dyes of yellow, brownish red, and dull blue; they liked clear greens. They quickly replaced their native blue with indigo from Mexico, but the other old colors were continued until aniline dyes were introduced and sold by the trading posts. This was in the middle of the 1880's. From then until around 1900 some of the best and some of the worst Navajo rugs were made. Some of the violent shades not only were hideous, they faded and streaked with exposure. But some of the Germantown zephyrs were retwisted by Navajo women into a fine light-weight yarn and their rainbow hues, during the years, have softened until they are art works.

Gradually the traders persuaded the Navajo weavers to go back to their older and more time-consuming methods of dyeing their wool. Indigo blue and cardinal red aniline held their own not only because the Indian women loved the bright colors, but so did tourists and the rug-buying public generally. Today about three-fourths of all blankets are of the four natural wool colors combined with dark blue and bright red. Green, especially the soft-hued yellowish green made by native yellow and indigo mixed, is not so frequent, but is very beautiful. Aniline greens are occasionally used, chiefly as bits of the design or as outlines, but this green in any quantity is rarely found in a first-class weave.

The designs have gradually become more complex. Only a few modern blankets still hold to the old horizontal striped pattern, loved best by many who know the old traditions. Because each weaver works without a model, carrying her pattern entirely in her head, no two rugs are ever exactly identical. "Chief's blankets" have stripes and a diamond in the center; portions of diamonds are woven at the corners and in the middle of each side. If the chief's blanket is to be worn, it will have three parallelograms running through the center and at each end. In both types when the blanket is folded halves and quarters are identical in design. But Navajo "blankets" are really superior as rugs. The Navajo themselves sell their product to the trader, and buy from him Pendleton blankets made in Oregon for the Navajo trade; these Pendletons are preferred as "blanket coats" by the Navajo.

Common Navajo design units are squares, parallelograms, and diamonds. The ordinary diamond is the "star large" and is the symbol of the Morning Star. Zigzag lines represent lightning: massed triangles signify clouds. Outlines are often broken with right angles, or with a series of steps. The arrangement of the design units and of the colors is a matter of the preference of the individual woman weaver.

Ceremonial blankets or rugs are copies of the famed Navajo sand-paintings. Nothing amuses a passive-faced Wool is spun several times before weaver has it to her liking.

in size, is insured for $5,000, and is one of the largest in existence.

Navajo more than to stand stolidly silent in a trading post while the trader, usually without real knowledge of the symbols in the sand-painting reproduction (and often deliberately inaccurate anyway, to escape the gods' anger), explains in great detail the meaning of a ceremonial rug to a prospective buyer. Not that a Navajo would think of spoiling a sale. Let the white man think what he pleases of the meaning of their symbols. Once she took sly satisfaction in copying soap wrappers or linoleum patterns in her rugs, or even the price she hoped to get for it. This practice has disappeared. The Navajo has curbed his sense of humor in the face of market supply and demand. But the Navajo woman upon whose weaving skill and effort the family support chiefly rests continues to reject all improvements of her weaving methods. Hers is one of the most primitively produced of all modern hand-made products. It retains, probably because of this, all the charm and individuality of the oldest and most precious textiles. She is one of few persons doing "tapestry" weaving, almost an impossibility by machine methods. In such weaving when designs are introduced but not carried clear across the web, a colored yarn is dropped at the design's edge and another color added. She uses an upward-weaving loom, a simple frame across which the warp is stretched. It is often held down tight by rocks or a heavy log attached to the bottom of the frame after it is lifted up for weaving to be started. In a long rug the weaver often is repeating a pattern which has been lowered out of her sight; but she is able to duplicate it at the other end of the rug with exact fidelity. The pattern must be kept straight; hence the weight to hold it exactly so. A "sway" to a pattern or borders, since these are used nowadays, is a defect.

Her chief weaving tool is the batten, a flat piece of hardwood, usually scrub oak, about three feet long and three inches wide, and about half an inch thick. It is rounded at the ends and has thin blunt edges. Set edgewise between the warp strings, it holds them apart while she puts the yarn betweenwith her fingers, usually, instead of with a bobbin or shuttle. Her fingers are incredibly swift and skillful. She turns the batten stick sidewise to beat the yarn down very tight. Smaller battens and a comb-awl are used to press the yarn into place before beating it to a smooth strong firmness. The weaver also. uses these smaller implements for loosening and evenly distributing the yarn. She works steadily and rapidly, and when her wish pattern comes true the rug is finished. She has achieved what is, at its best, an anachronism in this machinemade world. If she has kept the edges straight, if the pattern is identical on both sides and completely symmetrical, and if the rug is firm and tight (commoner than many "suspicious" buyers think) she has produced a textile work of art through primitive methods and skills almost lost except for her industrious fingers.

Depending upon the size and quality of the weaving. Navajo rugs vary in cost from $10 to $1000. The largest one known is an unbelievable 26 x 36 feet and is owned by the Hubbell Trading Post at Winslow, Arizona. Their Ganado Trading Post is the oldest continuously operated business in Arizona. The value of the Hubbell's treasured specimen rug could scarcely be estimated with accuracy, since it is completely unique; it is, however, insured for $5,000. The Navajo weaver's income from her work may now be a little more than the old average of five cents an hour, but not much. It is far from adequate to buy food and "Navajo cloth" (velveteen) in these days when all of the world talks of the high cost of living.