Ravenstail weaving, or Yel-ku uu [Yeil Koowu] (‘the raven’s tail’),  is a generationally-transmitted art form that holds a tremendous amount of cultural knowledge and social prestige in its communities, so named due to its resemblance to raven tail feathers. Beginning in the Tsimshiam culture, it was preserved and retained by the Haida and the Tlingit. The tradition was passed through matrilines and was predominantly reserved for women. This style of weaving is very complex and has been likened to basket weaving by many craftspeople. One of the most important components of its creation was the 6,000 year old practice of twining, where strands of goat fur and bark are twisted together. In Tlingit basketweaving, this forms watertight seals that make the baskets long-lived and functional. Ravenstail robes use primarily bold geometric designs with a limited color palette, and every thread end is worked into the piece.

The 18th century is widely regarded to have been the so-called “golden age” of Ravenstail robes, but that golden age wasn’t to last. Due to the rapid and devastating effects of colonialism in the Northwest, the craft went through a period of stagnation 200 years long. In the 70s, a non-native weaver named Cheryl Samuels and a Haida weaver named Delores Churchill created the first robe since the decline, and since then Native weavers have made leaps and bounds in reclaiming and revitalizing the art.

During this stagnation time, there were a few robes that came in to the possession of Western collections and museums. One such robe is the “Swift Blanket,” made around the mid 1700s, and it is the only complete historical Ravenstail robe we know of. Evelyn Vanderhoop provides wonderful insight on the robe: it would have been worn by a chief and used to convey multiple characters and stories with the two sides of the robe, while also functioning as a symbol of the leader’s authority. “The Swift robe threads together a duality that is found in the ancestor stories and early chiefs’ fashions at the time of contact,” as Vanderhoop puts it. This speaks directly to how Ravenstail robes were an integral part of the organization of society and the dissemination and transfer of knowledge and stories within that society.

Made from mountain goat wool. Named after its collector, Benjamin Swift. Now at the the Peabody Museum at Harvard University.

Chilkat robes are regarded to be the descendant artform of Ravenstail robes, and are practiced in much of the same communities. They are similar in technique but have a few key differences in technique, design, and social positionality. Ravenstail uses a total of nine twining methods while Chilkat uses three, and also has a more muted colour palette. Chilkat robes can use a myriad of colours, and are usually 5 sided instead of rectangles as shown below. Chilkat robes are also not woven continuously with thread ends worked in while weaving, but are rather constructed in separate sections and then brought together. The motifs used are  more organic and fluid as opposed to the geometric designs of the Ravenstail, and are often referred to as “totemic” art.

Spirits and deities in Haida and Tlingit mythos are often incorporated into Chilkat totemic designs. Usually Ravenstail weaving is exclusive to women, but in Chilkat weaving a design board is created by a male community member which is then worked off of by the weaver. Weaving is still passed matrilineally, and the 1895 picture below is the genesis point of one of these prolific lines of weavers. Clara Benson, or Deinḵul.át, was a Tlingit weaver who belonged to an aristocratic family in the G̱aanax̱teidí clan, and was arguably the most sought after creator of regalia and robes in the Northwest region during her lifetime from 1856-1935. A descendant of her teaching lineage, Lilly Hope, is one of about a dozen modern Indigenous weavers who create Chilkat robes. During the beginning of my research, all I knew of Benson was her last name, and that is about all that was known of her, both by researchers and in the wider world, until a biography by Zachary Jones came out in May of this year. One of her robes is still in the posession of The Shangukeidí (Thunderbird Clan) of Klukwan, and it can still be seen dancing and on display during ceremonial events in Southeastern Alaska. That specific robe was worn by the culture-bearer of the clan, and is a testament to both the longevity of these garments as well as their social and political roles within their communities.

Clara Benson weaving a Chilkat robe, 1895.

Naaxein robe woven with mountain goat wool and cedar bark, 1880. Currently in the collection of the Seattle Art Museum.

Teri Rofkar dancing in the first robe of the Tlingit Superman project, photographed by Tom Pich in 2009.

One of the most influential Ravenstail weavers was Teri Rofkar, pictured right. Beginning as a Raven clan basket weaver taught by her grandmother, she began to experiment with robe-weaving and incorporating her foraging knowledge from basket making. The Tlingit Superman series is probably her most well known, with 8 robes each more different than the next (one was even made of kevlar). The one pictured here is the first of the series, being woven entirely of shed mountain goat wool, and carries both a DNA motif for the unique species of goat on Baranhof island and a small red patch to denote a basket of berries she was brought during its creation. I think these small details really serve to show how these robes are physical examples of communal and personal knowledge being passed down, and they fascinate me to no end. She talks about realizing the “pure science embedded in Tlingit art”, which harkens back to how this garment involves a tremendous amount of innovation and ancestral knowledge coalescing. 

Evelyn Vanderhoop her handmade Ravenstail robe (Twined wool, sea otter fur, cedar bark fiber, shell, copper threads)

The picture to the left is of Evelyn Vanderhoop, who is a Haida weaver, wearing the robe she created for the Museum of Fine Arts Boston. She also danced in the robe during the museum gift ceremony, with her daughter accompanying on drums and vocals. Vanderhoop is an example of the matrilines of weavers being brought back, as she is the daughter of Delores Churchill, an incredibly masterful and influential weaver. She also learned basket weaving from her grandmother and stresses the many cultural functions of the robes as well as the many roles of their creators. This wonderful short documentary by the Stonington Gallery shows Vanderhoops journey in creating the MFA robe, and delves into her history as a multi-generational weaver.