Modern illuminators summoning pure medieval magic with lapis, gold, traditional techniques & pure craftsmanship. One ancient craft, still very much alive. Marie from expecto_pigmentum 🪄

Over 3,200 years ago, China had a queen unlike any other. Her name was Fu Hao (妇好). She is remembered as one of the earliest known female military commanders in Chinese history. She led troops into battle, presided over important rituals, and held extraordinary status at the Shang Dynasty court. You could take her as China's Nefertiti, who lived abt 100 years ahead of her in Egypt. We may never know exactly what happened when Fu Hao died. But judging from the way she was buried, it is not hard to imagine that King Wu Ding (武丁), her husband, was devastated by her loss. Fu Hao was given an exceptionally prestigious burial in the Shang kingdom's last capital Anyang (安阳). Located in central China, it's one of the cradles of early Chinese civilization, where a tremendous amount of exquisite bronzes and oracle bones, the earliest known body of mature Chinese writing. Usually, unlike many Shang kings and queens, who were buried in the royal cemetery, she was laid to rest within the palace complex. And that has inspired an irresistibly romantic thought: Perhaps the king simply could not bear to have her too far away. Perhaps, in some sense, he still wanted to "see" her every day. What the king could have imagined was that this closeness would become the perfect protection. Over the next three millennia, the Shang royal cemetery was repeatedly looted. Most of its grand tombs were robbed, leaving very few intact. But Fu Hao's tomb was different. In 1976, when it was discovered by the female archaeologist Zheng Zhenxiang, it had remained undisturbed. Perhaps, by accident, the king's grief had protected her all along. The tomb itself was not particularly large. But inside was something like a time capsule, sealed for more than 3,000 years. The burial objects had been packed into the tomb in layer after layer, seven in all: bronze vessels. Jade. Bone carvings. Ivory. Pottery. Over a thousand objects emerged before the archaeologists, astonishing not only in number, but in the extraordinary skill with which they had been made. Together, they transformed our understanding of the Shang Dynasty. But among all these treasures was something even more remarkable, which has allowed us, for a moment, to look across 3,000 years and actually "see" the people of ancient China. 15 human figures carved from jade and stone were discovered in Fu Hao's tomb. Tiny as they are, they offer a rare glimpse of how people in China dressed more than 3,000 years ago. This jade figure stands just 8.5 centimeters tall. He sits low to the ground, leaning slightly forward, with a surprisingly serious expression. The carving is remarkably detailed. His eyes, nose, and mouth are clearly defined-even his nostrils are visible. And then there is the hairstyle. At first glance, it looks almost like a modern bowl cut. But on top of his head is a small tied braid. A hole runs through the center of the head, suggesting that the figure may once have been worn or suspended as an ornament. In the Shang Dynasty, silk was associated with the elite, while hemp was a much more common textile for ordinary people. Look closely at this figure's clothing, and it is anything but plain. Across the front is a striking animal-mask design, somewhat bovine in appearance. And on both sleeves are snakes. Their bodies curl along the arms, while their heads rise all the way to the shoulders. It is hard not to pause here and wonder: Centuries later, Chinese emperors would famously wear dragons across their robes. Could this much earlier fascination with powerful, serpentine creatures worn on the body have been a distant aesthetic prelude to that tradition? One thing is clear: More than 3,000 years ago, people in China already understood that clothing could do more than cover the body. It could display status. It could carry symbols. And it could make power visible. Three thousand years ago does not feel quite so distant anymore. People then, just like us, took time to arrange their hair, choose what to wear, and adorn themselves. Most of their names are gone. Their voices are gone. The world they knew has vanished. But somehow, their faces remain. Three thousand years later, we are still looking at their faces. And, they are still looking back.

Altho our stereotypical image of a Chinese emperor has him wearing a yellow dragon robe, in reality that was a ceremonial robe, not something he wore everyday. Culturally, the Song Dynasty set its emperors the mission of 與士大夫治天下 "to co-govern the country with the mandarins," so Song emperors wanted to appear closer to being one of the mandarins than a paramount figure above them.

Over time, these once-overlooked workers became respected fortune-tellers, keepers of hidden patterns, omens, and destiny. Even today, on the third day of the third lunar month, blind diviners are said to gather at his temple to honor the man who gave them a spiritual path. 2/2

In Chinese folklore, the “Blind School of Divination” was born from hardship and transformed into dignity. Tradition says Dongfang Shuo, moved by the struggles of blind laborers, taught them the mysteries of the I Ching so they could read fate instead of being crushed by it. 1/2

Openwork Gold Ring Ornament with Dragon Patterns, Western Zhou Dynasty Unearthed from Marquis Jin Cemetery, Beizhao, Quwo, Shanxi Province 西周龙纹镂空金环形饰，山西曲沃北赵晋侯墓地出土 📷一一的博物集