“Bojagi” is a general term for all wrapping cloths in Korea. Most bojagi were made with specific people and functions in mind, like when mothers crafted bojagi for their daughters before weddings. Bojagi were viewed more as craft pieces than artwork, and it is only in recent decades that the aesthetic value of bojagi was rediscovered. By sewing together small, used cloth of various shapes and skillfully juxtaposing vibrant colors, the unknown makers of these bojagi created an exciting design akin to modern abstract art.

Depending on its function, design, structure, and user, bojagi can have other names. For example, bojagi made for covering a table is called “sang bo” (“sang” means table, and “bo” is an abbreviation of bojagi). Because the bojagi on display are patchworks of cloth remnants, they are “jogak bo” (“jogak” means small pieces). Different names apply to various patchwork designs, as well as suggest those meant for royalty and for ordinary people.

Letters from the Thai alphabet are loosely pinned together to form an outline of the Buddha. These letters, cut from industrial mesh, form Buddhist sayings that Jakkai Siributr, a practicing Buddhist, chants daily. Amulets depicting the Buddha, respected monks, and kings hang from the text. Amulets are charms blessed by monks and given to worshippers at temples, often worn on the body as a reminder of the Buddha’s teachings. As Jakkai has observed in Thailand, amulets blessed by monks believed to possess magic powers have become talismans that are being worshipped by people so that good fortune, prosperity, and safety will come their way. Jakkai views the use of amulets for luck and instant gratification as a perversion of their intended function as inspiration to devotees. He notes that the absent Buddha, present only in outline, represents the disappearance of Buddhism’s true principles.

Jakkai Siributr works primarily in the textile medium. His fascination with textiles and embroidery began as a child in Bangkok, and he went on to study textile design in college and graduate school in the United States before returning to live and work in Thailand. His meticulously handmade tapestry and installation works make statements about religious, social, and political issues in contemporary Thailand. His art is preoccupied with the interaction of Buddhism and materialism in modern life and with the everyday popular culture of Thailand.

This bowl represents a high point in epigraphic ware production under the Persian Samanid dynasty (819-1005). The elaborate kufic version of the Arabic script is embellished with knotted interlaces and leafy flourishes that show off the artisan’s skill. A sharp instrument was used to achieve the crisp edges of the slipware-painted script. The decoration of this bowl consists of an Arabic proverb that may be translated as, “Surely knowledge is the noblest of the innumerable virtues and manliness is the most intricate of lineages.” This proverb is also found on wares now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, and the Reza Abbasi Museum, Tehran. Inscriptions on other bowls and dishes discuss the delights of eating, and it has been suggested that reading the inscriptions may have provided a form of entertainment. In cosmopolitan Samanid society this might have been the case.

The conical bowl form with straight, flaring sides and a flat base is a practical one and seems to derive, as do many Islamic ceramic forms, from a more expensive metal prototype in silver.

This type of globular porcelain jar, known as a moon jar (dal hang-ari), was loved by Korean people in part because its white color suggested Confucian virtues of purity, honesty, and modesty. Although porcelain wares were produced concurrently with celadons during the Goryeo dynasty (918-1392), not until the Joseon dynasty did they come into prominence. From about 1600 on, porcelain came to dominate the field of Korean ceramics because the preference for the color white dominated Korean aesthetics throughout the Joseon dynasty.

Goryeo dynasty ewers often derived their shapes from natural forms such as melons or double gourds. This ewer, however, takes its shape from a metal prototype, judging from the cylindrical body, the sharp angled flat shoulder, and the looping flat handle accented with a crisp outline. Its lid, which is in the form of a double lotus and has a jewel on the top, makes an effective contrast to the simple unadorned body. The glaze covers the bottom of the base and the foot is carefully wiped. The traces of three spur marks can be spotted under the glaze at the bottom. The gray-blue glaze is thin, transparent, and lustrous.

The beauty of this refined form and exquisite glaze exemplifies the highest aesthetic quality demanded by the court and the aristocracy. Celadon works such as this piece prompted the young Chinese official Xu Jing (1091-1153), who came with the Chinese embassy to Korea in 1123 from the court of Huizong emperor (r. 1101-1125), to compare Goryeo celadon to Chinese imperial ru wares that were produced in China at the time as well as the “secret color” of earlier Chinese yue wares. In a later time the outstanding beauty of Goryeo celadon made another Chinese writer, whose pen name was Taiping Laoren, to include them among the objects he considered the “first under heaven.”

The large birds and stylized rosettes resembling lollipops on this deep bowl exemplify one of the most endearing types of slipware produced in Iran throughout the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Called “Sari ware” after the town just south of the Caspian Sea where many similar examples were found, these ceramics follow earlier techniques of production and decoration. The motif of a parrot or hawk attacking another bird is typical of the decoration found on such bowls. The characteristic white dots punctuating the large bird’s eye and the feathers in this bowl are not new, although they are combined in an innovative and dynamic way, showing that late provincial production for local consumption could remain vibrant.

Marlik, in northern Iran, is a particularly important site. Located between the Caspian Sea and Elburz mountains, the area benefited from a warm climate with wooded forests and dense vegetation favorable to civilization. Tomb excavations at the site of Marlik yielded fascinating reddish and gray hollow pottery figurines in the shapes of humans and animals with spouts. This reddish-brown stag’s head forms a spout, which was probably used for pouring rather than drinking. Its stocky, full shape with a wide back and four stubby legs would have made it easy to handle. The earthenware was burnished, which means that it was rubbed while damp with a spoon-like tool before firing. This process makes it smooth to the touch.

Wares such as this one are often called “Amlash” after a small Caspian Sea village in southeastern Gilan province. Amlash has been a point of entry for the international antiquities market and has been used to describe unprovenanced antiquities, whether from Gilan province or not.

This standing Buddha has the round face, broad shoulders, and full body inspired by the Tang international style prevalent in East Asia during the eighth century. The disproportionately large head, stern facial expression, and wave-pattern drapery folds over the legs are characteristic of eighth-century Korean Buddhist images. Two prominent knobs on the upper and lower back indicate that this figure was originally equipped with a body halo (singwang; Sanskrit: mandorla). Both hands appear to have been damaged slightly by fire.

This image probably represents the Amita (Sanskrit: Amitabha), the Buddha of Eternal Life, who held the most exalted position in Korean Buddhism during this period. Many small gold and gilded bronze Buddhist images have been discovered in Silla temple sites and pagodas, indicating that such images were pervasive during the Unified Silla dynasty. While large figures of this type were placed in important halls of major monasteries, small ones were used for private worship or as votive images.

When the serpent king Kaliya poisons the Yamuna River with his venom Krishna steps in to save the day. The serpent tries to crush Krishna in his coils, but Krishna escapes, overpowers the serpent, and tramples him under his dancing feet. The serpent and his wives beg Krishna for mercy. Krishna, instead of killing the serpent, swears it to stop poisoning the river and banishes him and his family to the ocean.

This episode connects to the current predicament of sacred rivers in the Indian subcontinent. The Ganges, the holiest river in India, and its tributary the Yamuna have in recent years have become heavily polluted. Echoing Krishna’s restoration of the river and acknowledging its religious significance, scientists, environmentalists, and religious leaders have taken action to begin restoration of these sacred rivers.

This vase is a curious combination of forms covered with a thick, opaque turquoise glaze. What starts as a cup-mouthed bottle with a graceful long neck suddenly divides into a four-lobed body and terminates in a narrow base. Cup-mouthed vessels are standard fare for twelfth-century Persian potters exercising the capabilities of fritware, and they exist in monochrome as well as underglaze- and luster-decorated versions. The cup at the top of the neck is often left plain or adorned with a molded inscription such as the one here in kufic script, which bestows blessings and happiness upon its owner.

Although they can be quite decorative, cup-mouthed vessels are usually designed with practicality in mind: the wide cup is convenient for refills and the long narrow neck helps prevent one from pouring the bottle’s contents too fast. The body could take on a range of molded forms, but the four-lobed body of this vase appears to be unique and without a prototype in ceramic or metalwork. Perhaps not the most functional vessel, this bottle demonstrates the outer limits of creativity of a medieval Persian potter.