I can immediately see that this textile is special. A lliclla, the Andean woman’s traditional carrying blanket, is hiding unpretentiously in the pile of textiles I am busy researching and describing for our annual benefit auction. It’s not the largest, or most meticulous, or most pristine, or even the most eye-catching of the fine items I am studying. It’s old and “well-loved”, the once-white threads grey with use and age. But I am awed as I almost reverently hold this old blanket. This one has stories to tell!
We can’t be sure in what community this lliclla was woven; probably from the mountainous Lares district north of the Sacred Valley. No records accompany this textile. But we know the weaver’s name because she wove it into the textile: Rosa Sullcapuma. Her Quechua surname translates to English as “Littlest Puma”. Just for good measure, she also wove some delightful little pumas, or mountain lions, near her name.
The informality and whimsy of the designs suggest that Rosa was a young woman when she wove this lliclla, probably for herself. The motifs woven right beside her name suggest things that she loved in her world: a little dog, a songbird, a large cooking pot (full of good food?), a little horse. (Did she love horses? Horses appear everywhere on her creation.) A simple house also appears twice, along with cornstalks, chickens, a few mysterious lizard creatures, and more horses, ridden by a flag-waving girl. Clearly, Rosa adored horses! Did she ever get to ride, or did she just imagine the delight of doing so? Meanwhile, condors soar in a sunlit sky; a cat prowls, and a donkey finds a corner to sit.
There are other themes; darker stories can be found in Rosa’s lliclla. While we don’t know when Rosa’s loom captured her world, some designs suggest the brutality that indigenous communities endured, from the time of the conquistadores through colonial rule and the oppressive hacienda system, which endured in Peru until 1969. A variation of the “Tupac Amaru” motif appears, echoing the capture and grisly execution of Tupac Amaru II. A celebrated revolutionary of the 18th century and widely revered as an indigenous hero, Tupac Amaru is immortalized on Quechua weavings throughout the region. Did Rosa know these stories? Did she too long for a more just world as she wove them into the cloth?
I hold this story-cloth, woven long ago by a woman I never met, and I wonder: Did Rosa always enjoy the songbirds? The sounds of the children at play? The companionship of a little dog?
Does she still?
Details showing a simple house, the execution of Tupac amaru II, and Rosa’s name.
