114
shows evidence of multiple infl uences ranging from
Brahmanism mixed with the astrological aspects
of Taoism (the source of the Burmese calendar) to
Tantrism and Northern Buddhism (Mahayana or
Vajrayana), as well as the teachings of the ancient
Ari priests, who are adept at magic and are demonized
by the offi cial religion. However, animism in
the broad sense of the term remains the substrate
of the mental universe of the country’s inhabitants.
Within this rich and complex ethnic and religious
mosaic, the most diverse beliefs and traditions are
juxtaposed, superimposed, and infi nitely combined
without ever melding into a truly Buddhist-dominated
syncretism—although the illusion of this
has been maintained by the central power and the
monastic community since the time of Anawrahta
(1014–1077). Well-informed parties and connoisseurs
from Shway Yoe (Sir George Scott, 1882
and 1910) and Richard Carnac Temple (1906) to
Maung Htin Aung (1959) have repeatedly excoriated
this notion.
As striking as they are enigmatic, Burmese medicine
fi gures are situated within this milieu. To my
knowledge, they have not yet been the subject of
a dedicated publication, and the present article
should be taken as a fi rst attempt, inevitably conjectural
and incomplete, to bring the attention of
afi cionados and the curious to these rare, unique,
and little-understood artworks.
These objects have no equivalent outside of
Burma, although they are sometimes erroneously
confused with the amulets that abound in Thai
markets or with the dubious “chess pieces” that
are hawked by curio merchants. They are usually
small, about 3 to 12 centimeters in height, and
are sometimes made of sculpted wood but more
often of molded compressed powder. The latter
is generally covered with a coat of black, red, or
sometimes gold lacquer that serves to consolidate
the material. The base often is not lacquered because,
depending on the use intended for the piece,
users may wish to remove the powdered material
FEATURE
The art objects of Burma, now Myanmar,
that are familiar to us are mostly classical
pieces such as Buddha effi gies and the reliefs that
decorate the temples of the great historical centers
of Pegu, Pagan, Mandalay, and Rangoon. But in
the margins of these traditional spaces, which arose
from alliances between royal dynasties and monastic
institutions, there are many forms of popular,
ethnic, or even “tribal” artistic expression, especially
from the remote Kachin, Chin, and Wa regions,
which are rooted in traditions outside the mainstream
culture and often are much older. Some of
the most characteristic examples of these traditions
are fi gurines of nats, or ambivalent spirits, which
are used both by animists and by Buddhist cults.
Also distinctive in this manner are yokes for teams
of oxen that are sculpted with representations of
dragons or birds in Burma proper produced by
the Bamar ethnic group; loom pulleys and carding
combs decorated with a variety of designs (fi g. 10);
marionettes, mostly in the Mandalay area; so-called
Burmese Medicine Figures
pilgrim’s or monk’s staffs, the handles of which are
often surmounted by a nat-bilu ogre guardian fi gure
or a monkey reminiscent of the Hindu god Hanuman;
and bronze tattooing implements (fi g. 24).
Especially in the Shan area and in the related former
Kingdom of Lan Na in Northern Thailand, there
are various magical objects including shaman’s
staffs adorned with different kinds of fi gures and
cabalistic diagrams illustrated with images of demons,
animals, and fantastical creatures. Less often
seen because they are rare, the medicine fi gures we
will discuss in the pages that follow are also manifestations
of the endurance of this “ancient Asia”
that resists classifi cation into the canonical art
forms of classical Hindu and Buddhist traditions.
More than one hundred and thirty ethnic groups
share the territory of the Union of Myanmar, which
is about the size of France and Belgium combined.
Converted to Theravada Buddhism in the eleventh
century by the will of Anawrahta Minsaw,
founder of the Pagan Empire, the country still
By Marc Petit