The Thread of A Tradition
THE THREAD OF A TRADITION
Anonymous student
2023 Spring
Tiger embroidery. Photo by the author.
I’ve always disliked history classes; a theme shared among all historical societies is the eventual loss of cultural uniqueness. It always reminded me of the unpleasant reality of this phenomenon unfolding before me. The traditions and customs that my family once cherished were fading away. The younger generation had little interest in the artistry and craftsmanship passed down through the ages, preferring instead the instant gratification of modern technology.
Graduating from high school meant more than just a title change; it forced me to make a life-long decision. “Family tradition or college study?” My parents would ask me. It was a common question anyone would face, a question I could quickly answer as a younger self. But recently, this question has become quite complicated.
I’ve just returned from visiting my grandmother at the hospital. It’s a place I’ve grown all too familiar with over the past few months. But today was different. Today, I could see this illness’s toll on her. As I entered her hospital room, I first noticed the sterile smell of antiseptic and the hum of machines beeping in the background. My grandmother was lying in her hospital bed, her breathing labored and shallow. She held my hand, gazing at me with a look of such profound sadness that it made my heart ache.
We spent a few hours together, talking in hushed tones and trying to make the most of our time together. But as the visit drew close, I realized I was leaving my grandmother behind in this sterile, clinical environment, and I had no idea how long she would be there. As I left, she handed me an incomplete embroidery on a frame. A final wish, I’d assume, to pass on the long-lasting family tradition of ancestral calling.
A certain tranquility comes with being in a quiet place – it’s almost like the silence acts as a balm for my mind and body. The absence of external stimuli means I can finally tune in to my thoughts and feelings without distraction or interruption. For this reason, the museum downtown has always been my favorite place to go. So on the evening of April 13, 2024, I trudge up the stairs to the gallery, my footsteps heavy and slow. The world’s weight seems to be resting on my shoulders, crushing me with each step.
Sitting in the dimly lit museum, I was surrounded by the artifacts of my ancestors. The delicate silk embroidery and the ancient manuscripts once treasured by my forefathers now lay forgotten and ignored. The museum displayed countless portraits, clothing, and decoration from centuries ago in late imperial China, but within the museum, a small section was dedicated to modern artworks. I had sat before the pieces my grandmother made in her livelier years. They were pieces I knew all too well, boasted by my relatives when I was younger, but now they lie in a museum no one ever visits.
In her livelier years, my grandmother would often preach to me about our identity. A family history that traces back to the Ming and Qing, when embroidery transformed womanly work from necessity to art. Interestingly, our lineage rarely had a male offspring, which made it difficult to survive in a paternalistic society back then. Weaving and embroidery was what supported the family, the content of womanly work that encompassed womanly virtues and talent. Embroidery became a means of expressing individual creativity and supporting themselves in a world that often offered little opportunity for women.
For that reason, my ancestors had always seen so highly of the tradition of embroidery in our family. But as it comes to my turn to take up the heritage, it becomes a difficult decision to make. Embroidery no longer has its place in society that made it special hundreds of years ago, in the fast-paced society we live in today, it is difficult to find a fulfilling life from simply weaving.
The environment of the museum prompted me to think about what my grandmother used to preach to me about. The recent developments in the art. The integration of western elements, oil-paintings into Su embroidery. Even the pointless facts like the Guinness record for splitting of a silk thread into 96 finer threads. Embroidery was the passion of her life, and a great part of mine. As I sat in the quiet museum thinking about my past, I couldn’t help but feel a sudden urge to complete the embroidery my grandmother had given me. The crouching tiger on the frame had been left unfinished for so long, and I knew it was my duty to carry on the tradition and finish what my grandmother had started.
Leaving the museum that day, I felt a sense of hope. The tradition of Su embroidery may be fading, but as long as people like me are willing to carry it on, it will never truly die. And as I looked down at the completed embroidery in my hands, I knew that I was not just preserving a piece of my family’s history but also a piece of our cultural heritage…
A year later, a new piece of embroidery was displayed in a museum in the middle of nowhere in Jiangsu province. It was a nameless piece of an anonymous author, a crouching tiger.
The intricate stitching and lively depiction of the tiger caught visitors’ attention, and soon it was featured in the local news. The media praised the piece, calling it a testament to the skill and dedication of the artist. The embroidery breathed new life into the museum, attracting a steady stream of visitors eager to see the masterpiece. Among the most prominent were the experts in all fields of art. They gathered around the display, admiring the intricate details of the crouching tiger embroidery. They marveled at the masterful use of stitching techniques, at the same time noting the petite and delicate frame and the use of a wide range of shading to create depth and texture.
One expert noted how the tiger’s fur seemed to come alive, while another praised the masterful use of shading and light. But as the conversation turned to the piece’s deeper meaning, the experts fell silent, unsure what to say. They all knew that there was something more to this piece, something beyond its technical brilliance. One expert tentatively suggested that the work might be a tribute to the dying art of Suzhou embroidery, a last gasp of a fading tradition.
And then someone spoke up, recalling the story of the young girl who had inherited her family’s embroidery skills and had completed this piece while sitting by her grandmother’s side in the hospital. Suddenly, the work took on a new significance, embodying the wishes of a dying art and the courage of a young girl to make a difficult decision.
The experts all nodded in agreement, realizing that this piece was not just a beautiful work of art but a testament to the power of tradition and the strength of the human spirit.
Notes:
[1] Peter Zhang, “Su Embroidery, a Gem of Silk Product,” SHINE, Accessed May 8, 2023, https://www.shine.cn/feature/art-culture/1707170774/.
[2] 用艺原创工坊, “发绣 | 千缕青丝绣华章.” https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1Fs411s7CF/?spm_id_from=333.337.search-card.all.click&vd_source=af92f95f442b2fbd9237abc9d37e0e9e: 0:30 – 0:50
Reflection:
I choose to write a creative short story for my final project. The object I chose to write about is an embroidery piece from the Suzhou Museum depicting a crouching tiger. The plot of the short story revolves around preserving the tradition of Suzhou embroidery, and the premise of the story is about a young girl needing to make the decision on whether to take on the responsibility of continuing a family tradition of weaving embroidery.
The original plan was to write a horror story, as I mystery novels are the main genre of fiction I read in my spare time. However, I realized that the original plot of the story did not incorporate much of the elements of the object I chose and was difficult to give a horror story meaning so I gave up on that thought. But I though this is still worth mentioning because I did not change the setting of the story and the characters in it, a lot of the scenes still came out of the horror novels I read about when I initially brainstormed the plot. I will leave the novel/short story titles in the bibliography.
We have briefly gone over the history of embroidery in one of the readings. The piece emphasized the significance of embroidery with regards to women in Suzhou history. On top of this reading, I have also conducted research on general information on the history of Suzhou embroidery, the common themes among embroidery pieces, and the different branches of embroidery in Suzhou (such as hair embroidery). I have incorporated my research on the history of Suzhou and its embroidery traditions when I introduced the background of the protagonist of the story.
The reason for choosing to write a short story rather than, say, a research paper is because a story is more effective in telling a message and easier to give a meaning. And because I don’t need it to get too technical with the material. During my research, I found that the traditional Suzhou embroidery, though still worked on by many, is gradually fading in the society so reliant on technology these days. Recent developments of Suzhou embroidery would incorporate Western elements such as oil painting to accommodate modern tastes.[1] One of its branches, hair embroidery had only one practitioner in Suzhou, explained in an interview conducted a few years ago.[2] The point is, Suzhou traditional embroidery is no doubt fading away, and the reason or meaning of this final project is to emphasize this fact.
There were no issues during the writing of this project, if I were to have to name one, it would be having to switch the genre from horror to what I have now, which is, from my perspective, not as interesting as what I originally had in mind. But besides this, the project was very interesting to work on, and I enjoyed going to the museum as I selected my object to write about.
