Machu Picchu : Exploring an Ancient Sacred Center

When I first began writing clown my thoughts about Machu Picchu in the 1980s, I intended to publish them in an academic journal. During discussions with colleagues in Peru, however, I carne to realize that they could be of interest to a broader public. Thus I decided to make the material available in a publication that would be more accessible yet still maintain elements crucial to a scientific approach, such as endnotes and references. Nonetheless, I should emphasize that this book is not intended as a substitute for volumes that provide details about the discovery of Machu Picchu, much less an in-depth overview of lnca culture.

Machu Picchu: Exploring an Ancient Sacred Center
Johan Reinhard
Fourth revised edition
Cotsen Institute of Archaeology University of California, Los Angeles

Machu Picchu

Contents
Prologue to the Fourth Edition
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Chapter One. The Incas and the Discovery of Machu Picchu
Chapter Two. Sacred Geography and Cosmology at Machu Picchu
Chapter Toree. Architecture and Sacred Landscape
Chapter Four. Further Sites in the Region
Chapter Five. The Builders of Machu Picchu
Chapter Six. Conclusions: The Sacred Center
Epilogue. Recent Research in the Machu Picchu Region
Appendix. Cardinal Directions and Sacred Mountains
Endnotes
References
Bibliography
Other Resources
Glossary
Index
About the Author

Prologue to the Fourth Edition
When I first began writing clown my thoughts about Machu Picchu in the 1980s, I intended to publish them in an academic journal. During discussions with colleagues in Peru, however, I carne to realize rhat they could be of interest to a broader public. Thus I decided to make the material available in a publication that would be more accessible yet still maintain elements crucial to a scientific approach, such as endnotes and references. Nonetheless, I should emphasize that this book is not intended as a substitute for volumes that provide details about the discovery of Machu Picchu, much less an in-depth overview oflnca culture.

Machu Picchu
Peruvian and Argentine archaeologists working atan Inca site on the summit of Llullaillaco (6,739 m/22,109 feet).

Rather than a guidebook ora history of the ruins, this book presents a theory that attempts to explain the meaning of Machu Picchu and the reasons why it was built in such a dramatic location. This pursuit leads to a reexamination of the possible significance of sorne of the site’s key architectural features. Despite the book’s somewhat academic approach and its limited distribution in Peru, I have been agreeably surprised at how widely it has come to be read. I am pleased to be able to reissue ir in this North American edition, with a few additions to bring it up to date.

PROLOGUE
Although I have spent fifreen years conducting research in the Andes since the publication of the first edition in 1991, I have found little that needs changing regarding the facts and theory originally presented. (Indeed, as the reader will discover, there has been new information that has appeared to support it.) I have, however, included an epilogue in order to summarize theoretical approaches and recent archaeological discoveries in the region and to place my interpretation of Machu Picchu in the context of a larger theory about sacred landscape in the Andes.

Few Inca artifacts ofimportance have been recovered from the ruins ofMachu Picchu since this book first appeared, but several have been found elsewhere. These have helped to increase our understanding of Inca culture and especially of their ceremonial sites and the rituals and offerings made at them. In my own case, during the 1990s I participated in discoveries of frozen Inca mummies and artifacts on mountains as high as 22,100 feet in Argentina and southern Peru. I was also in volved in underwater archaeological expeditions in Lake Titicaca, one of the most sacred places in the Inca Empire, and undertook investigations of sorne little-known Inca ceremonial centers of special significance in Inca religion, including the temples ofVilcanota, Ancocagua, and Coropuna.

The results of this research provided dramatic evidence of the importance of sacred landscape to the Incas and thus underscored the need for the theoretical approach I have taken in this book. Although there may never be final answers to sorne questions abour Machu Picchu, we can certainly come to a better understanding of it by looking at this magnificent site as it would have been seen through the eyes of the Incas.
Johan Reinhard Franklin, West Virginia September 2007
Acknowledgments
My research on sacred geography in the Cuzco and Machu Picchu region has involved numerous visits since 1981. The organizations that supplied the principal financing for chis research were Rolex Montres, the Organization of American States, che Nacional Geographic Sociery, che Social Science Research Council, and che Nacional Endowment for che Humanicies. I would like ro express my gratitude to these organizations for their kind support.

It would be impossible to name ali the individuals who in one way or another have contributed to the project over more than a decade. The following people were especially helpful and they have my warm thanks: Trinidad Aguilar, Catherine Allen, Moises Aragon, Carmen Araoz, Constance Ayala-Parrish, Jim Barde, Richard Bielefeldt, Elena Bravo, Joanna Burkhardt, Luciano Carbajal, Jesus Contreras, Jean Jacques Decoster, Jorge Flores, Peter Frost, Peter Getzels, Gerard Geurten, Harriet Gordon, Maarten van de Guchte, Federico Kauffmann-Doig, Ann Kendall, Peter Lewis, Patricia Lyon, Gordon McEwan, Frank Meddens, Carlos Milla, Max Milligan, Alberto Miori, Juan Víctor Nuñez del Prado, Italo Oberti, Vilma Olivera, Jean Pierre Protzen, Cirilo Pumayalhi, Americo Rivas, Maria Rostworowski, John Rowe, Washington Rozas, Wolfgang Schuler, Jeannette Sherbondy, Gary Urton, Alfredo Valencia, Roger Valencia, Ruben Velarde, Benito Waman, Wendy Weeks, and Gary Ziegler. A preliminary draft of the first edition benefited from suggestions made by John Carlson, David Dearborn, Adriana von Hagen, John Hyslop, Margaret MacLean, Roben Randall, and Tom Zuidema. I would like particularly to thank David Dearborn for supplying me with che major star azimuths on che horizon as seen from che Intihuatana, Kenneth Wright for allowing use ofhis map of the Machu Picchu ruins, Vince Lee for his reconstructions of sites in Vilcabamba, Margaret MacLean for the use of her plans of si tes along the Inca Trail, and Gary Ziegler for permitting my publishing a plan showing alignments between Machu Picchu and Llakrapata.

Research in che Department of Cuzco was gready facilitated by past directors of che Nacional Institute of Culture: Fernín Días, Gustavo Manrique, Osear Nuñez del Prado, and Danilo Pallardel. Severa! members of the institute assisted in the research, and I owe special thanks to Percy Ardiles, Arminda Gibaja, Fidel Ramos, Wilbert San Roman, Leoncio Vera, and Wilfredo Yepez. I am indebted to Fernando Astete and Ruben O rellana of the Archaeology Survey Office within the institute for kindly sharing with me che unpublished resu!ts of their extensive field surveys and for organizing and participacing in an expedition to Cerro San Miguel. Luis Barreda and Manuel Chavez graciously made available their personal libraries.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Alfredo Valencia was generous in explaining much of the recent work with which he has been involved at the site. Tom Hendrickson of Peruvian Andean Treks and Alfredo Ferreyros ofExplorandes were very helpful both with information and in organizing expeditions undertaken in the region. The South American Explorers provided valuable support in severa! ways. Robert von Kaupp, Vince Lee, and Stuart White kindly assisted me with investigations in the Vilcabamba, and Robert also generously gave me copies of his numerous, detailed reports. I would like to thank Bell Canada, Eagle Creek, Marmot, North Face, Patagonia, Recreational Equipment, and Timberland for donations of equipment. I am deeply grateful to Joseph and Sharon Richardson for generously supporting research undertaken to the west of Machu Picchu.

Finally, I owe a special thanks to Alfredo Ferreyros, past president of the Instituto Machu Picchu, for making possible the second edition and for kindly writing the introduction to this fourth edition. Of course, I am solely responsible for any factual errors rhat might have occurred in the text,
lntroduction
The fourth (and first North American) edition of Machu Picchu: Tbe Sacred Center contains numerous additions to che illustrations, along with a revised text and bibliography, which togecher make ir an invaluable resource. The book presents an interpretation of Machu Picchu based on cwo new fields of research known as «high-alritude archaeology» (requiring mountaineering skills) and «landscape archaeology» (che placement of ruins within che larger landscapes of which they are a pare). In che Andes Dr. Reinhard is a pioneer in these fields and their most renowned practitioner.

This edition, enriched by recent discoveries, is presented in an easy-ro-read formar. The aurhor’s perspective is based on his research over severa! years in che region, and che text is supplemented by an epilogue, appendix, endnotes, and bibliography to which che reader can refer for further information. This enables che work to be both accessible and scholarly, building on multidisciplinary investigations carried out by foreign and Peruvian scholars over che pase decades.

Dr. Reinhard establishes che importance of Machu Picchu based on ics location-part of a necwork of sites joined by Inca trails of varied imporcance ernbodied in chis unique topography. The site lies at che center of an impressive landscape, much of which is now pare of a Nacional Protected Area established by che Peruvian Government-the Machu Picchu Historical Sanctuary (MPHS). By reading chis book, we are able to comprehend che profound understanding che Incas had of che importance of cheir natural resources, che cycles of nature, and che ecological component of day-ro-day life.

No one really knows why Machu Picchu and adjoining sites were abandoned by che Incas befare che arrival of che Spanish conquistadors. Bue we can suppose, in pare based on photographs since its rediscovery by Hiram Bingham, that che ecosystems present today in che MPHS were utilized somewhat differently by che Incas. Agro-ecological practices ucilizing Andean land-use patterns were established by che Incas, chereby permitting human activity and sectlements in chis rugged region.

For ali those wanting to enrich their knowledge of che MPHS, chis book is a muse. le is an honor to be able to introduce chis book, which adds significantly to che fount ofknowledge and information we have of chis site and of che region in general.
Alfredo E. Ferreyros

Executive Director of Conservation Internacional, Peru Former President of che Instituto Machu Picchu Cuzco, Peru

Machu Picchu
Chapter One
The Incas and the Discovery of Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 1.1. The classic view of Machu Picchu with the mountain Huayna Picchu in the background.
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Figure 1.2. Machu Picchu as seen with a telephoto lens from the Inca Trail at lnti Punku (the «sun gate»).

 

THE INCAS

My first view of Machu Picchu seemed like something from a dream-an ancient city materializing out of che clouds. After four days ofhiking the Inca Trail, I had reached a pass where Machu Picchu became visible with rugged peaks surrounding it in the background. I thought I knew what ro expect, but Machu Picchu is thar way-it is one of che few places in che world where reality can surpass one’s imagination. The Incas managed to construct a site that never ceases to astonish, even after repeated visits (Figures 1.1 and 1.2).

Machu Picchu, however, is only one of the many achievements of che Incas, who forged an empire that was the largest to exist in the prehispanic Americas (Figure 1.3). The Incas dominated South America when the Spaniards arrived in AD 1532, having conquered a region extending from northern Ecuador to central Chile and totaling more than 2,500 miles in length. Since the focus of chis book is on interpreting Machu Picchu, in chis chapter I will provide only a brief summary about its discovery and the extraordinary culture of the Incas. The reader should refer to sorne of the fine publications on these topics for more information. (1)

Machu Picchu

Figure 13. Map showing the extend of the Inca Empire at the time of the Spanish conques\ in AD 1532 (from 0’Altroy 2002)

THE INCAS ANO THE DISCOVERY OF MACHU PICCHU

As important as the Inca culture carne to be, it was only the last in a long line of civilizations that atose in the Andean region over the previous rhree millennia. Archaeologists divide the central Andes into time periods called «horizons» (when a particular art sryle was found extending overa broad atea) and «intermediare periods» (when widespread art styles were absenr). The Early Horizon (ca. 1200-200 BC) was associated with the Chavin art sryle, which spread over a large area of central coastal Peru and the highlands. Regional are styles characterized the Early Intermediare Period (ca. 200 BC-AD 600), with the Nazca and Moche being the best known. The Middle Horizon ( ca. AD 600-1000) was established based on the Tiahuanaco-Huari art style that extended from the southern highlands to the north coast of Peru. During rhe Late Intermediate Period (ca. AD 1000-1475) regional art styles again arose over limited áreas, with the Chimu culture holding sway along the north coast of Peru.

Although rhe Incas dominated the Late Horizon (ca. AD 1475-1535), which lasted until the Spanish conquest, many aspects of their empire had origins in institutions and technologies that had developed long before it arose to prorninence, especially during che Middle Horizon. (2) Nonetheless, the Incas accomplished astounding feats of their own, and many of these took place less than a century before the arrival of the Spaniards.

One of the best-known examples of these is the Inca road system, which was one of the most extensive ever built in rhe ancient world, rivaling that of the Roman Empire. It has been estimated thar the Incas built as much as 20,000 miles of roads. The Incas did not have the wheel, but their road system and llama caravans allowed for products to be transponed throughout the empire. Ali of rhis took place in one of rhe most rugged terrains on Earth.

The Incas began to expand out of the region of Cuzco, capital of their ernpire, sometime aroundAD 1438. The emperor Pachacuti (ca. AD 1438-1463) undertook campaigns that soon brought a vast area of rhe central Andes under Inca control. The period of Pachacuti’s reign is the first for which we have unambiguous historical and archaeological evidence. It marked the beginning of major building initiatives, including such well-known sites as Machu Picchu. Inca stonemasons became famous for fitting together mulri-ton stones without mortar-and so well rhat a knife blade could not be slid between them (cf. Figures 1.4 and 1.5).

Pachacuti repuredly also began the conceptual organization of the empire (Tawantinsuyu) into four (tawantin) parts (suyus), with Cuzco at its center. In Cuzco an elaborare series of imaginary lines (ceques) was projected onto the immediate landscape. More than 300 sacred sites, mostly associated with natural features of the landscape, were linked by the lines that mostly originated in or near che Temple of the Sun and extended outward in a radiating pattern, thereby creating what became known as the ceque system.
Machu Picchu
Figure 14. Aerial view of the Inca fortress and ceremonial complex of Sacsahuaman, which overlooks Cuzco. Walls involved the fitting of cut stones, many weighing more than 30 tons.
Pachacuti’s son, Tupac Yupanqui (Topa Inca, ca. AD 1463-1493), conquered more lands, until the borders reached from modern-day Ecuador to central Chile. The limits of the empire were reached during rhe reign ofTopa Inca’s son Huayna Capac (ca. AD 1493-1525). His death was followed by a conflict between his sons over his successor. The struggle resulted in a weakened empire at the time the Spaniards arrived in Peru. Taking advantage of this division (along with their superior armar, the dissatisfaction of sorne tribes against Inca rule, and the aftereffects of an epidemic), the Spaniards were able to conquer a srate that rivaled any in Europe in size and riches.

The administration of such an extensive multi-ethnic state was itself a majar feat, made possible by initiatives that incorporated conquered groups into a highly integrated economic, political, and religious system. Deities were believed to control the success of crops and herds, of wars, of illnesses, of business transactions, and so forth. Everything was intertwined.

The Incas helped ensure their control of the state through severa! means, including the establishment of a single language, Quechua, as a principal means of communication. They built a system of posts or way stations (tambos) to accornmodate travelers and to hold supplies, and runners (chasquis) were used for the rapid transmission of messages.
Figure 1.5. Fine Inca stonework in a wall in Cuzco.
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Machu Picchu
Figure 16. Inca terracing near the town of Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley
The Incas became especially associated wich che spread of irrigation and maize agriculture throughout their empire. In broad terms there are two types of agriculture in che Andes. One is based on highland staple root crops, principally che potato, which can be grown at elevations up to 16,400 feet in sorne pares of che Andes. Other highland crops include grain foods, such as quinoa, che world’s most nutritious cereal. The second type of agriculcure takes place in che lower elevations and has evolved around maize. Alchough irrigation and fercilizers are usually necessary for a successful crop, there is no need to leave land fallow, and che grain can be stored for long periods-a major plus for feeding an army.

To better control and develop che regions chey conquered, che Incas moved encire communities (mitimaes) to colonize thern, thereby insuring local support groups and promoting incegration. They supported local shrines, while keeping sorne of che main idols of che conquered peoples as virtual hostages in Cuzco. The Incas undertook major public works throughout their empire, such as terracing, irrigation, and storehouses, in order to offset any food shortages (see Figure 1.6). They also promoted che expansion of herding into new areas and set up systems for che redistribution of produces and services.

THE INCAS ANO THE DISCOVERY OF MACHU PICCHU

No documents predate the arrival of the Spaniards because the Andean peoples lacked writing. They developed an elaborate system of record keeping, however, by using varia ti o ns of knots and colors on cords called quipus (Figure l. 7). The Incas’ organizational and logistical ability set rheir empire apart from any rhar had come before. This ability also enabled rhern to undertake a systematic carnpaign to climb to the summits of the highest peaks in the Americas-mountains that were often revered as the most important deities of the peoples the Incas conquered. In addition to mountains, many other parts of the landscape were venerated, making for what has come to be called a «sacred geography.» The Incas had a precise knowledge of topography and were able to make models of the areas rhey conquered thar lay even at the extremes of their empire. One such model of the larger Cuzco region was so well done rhat the chronicler Garcilaso de la Vega wrote in the early 1600s that «the best cosmographer in the world could not have done it better.»1

Inca religion shared many fundamental concepts held by other erhnic groups throughout rhe Andes. They ali worshipped their ancestors and features of the landscape, and this practice was clearly widespread long before the Incas and
Figure 17. A quipu, a set of knotted strings that the Incas used for record keeping.
Machu Picchu
10

well outside their empire. Although the Incas also worshipped a large number of supernatural beings, especially important in their state religious pantheon were Inri (rhe sun), Illapa (the weather god), and Viracocha (the creator). Many legends exist about Viracocha, but a common one has him rising from Lake Titicaca and then beginning his creative acts (Figure 1.8). Severa! other deities of great regional significance, such as Pachacamac, Catequil, Pariacaca, and Coropuna, were also associated with creative acts.

The Inca emperor was not only a secular ruler but also head of Inca state religion, which was imposed throughout che lands che Incas conquered. (3) The Incas claimed to be directly descended from lnti. lnterestingly, the evidence from history, ethnography, and archaeology supports the conclusion that sun worship was not of majar importance throughout much of the Andes prior to the Inca conquest. The sun may have become significant as an Inca state deity because it was visible to everyone. Deities of che local landscape were of greater importance to indigenous groups prior to their being conquered by che Incas. lndeed, the Incas continued to allow-and often even supported-their worship, as long as the people accepted sun worship into their religious activities.

Illapa, the Incas’ weather deity, was of widespread importance because of his control of meteorological phenomena-lightning, thunder, snow, hail, storms, and rain-and thus che fenility of planes and animals. He was reportedly che most widely worshipped of the state deities and only slightly less important than che sun. lt seems likely that che belief in a generalized weather god arase, at least in part, out of an attempt on the part of the Incas to bring numerous weather and mountain deities under one unified concept. As we will see, local weather deities and mountain gods were widely perceived as being the same.

Besides Inri, Illapa, and Viracocha, other deities in Inca religion played key roles with regard to fertiliry, such as Mamacocha (the ocean) and Pachamama (Earth Mother), who was widely worshipped and still is today. In addition to che sun and the moon (Inti’s consort), many astronomical phenomena were revered, including certain constellations and the Milky Way. Aside from mountains, other landscape features, such as lakes, rivers, springs, and unusual rock formations, were often worshipped for fertíliry Tradicional religion throughout the Andes continues to focus on nature spirits associated with fertility up to che present day-including in che region of Machu Picchu, as we will see.

 

THE INCAS AND THE DISCOVERY OF MACHU PICCHU

 

12

THE DISCOVERY OF MACHU PICCHU
Machu Picchu is che best-known archaeological site in South America-and for good reason. lt is located in one of che most spectacular settings in che Andes, set amidst lush tropical vegetation on a ridge overlooking a winding river hundreds of meters below and with views toward snowcapped mountains (Figure 1.9). In addition, Machu Picchu is one of che few Inca si tes to remain relatively intact and contains sorne of che finest structures built in pre-Columbian times. lt chus allows us a rare opportunity to study its buildings almost as they were at che time they were abandoned. And since so many surrounding sites are also well preserved, we can examine Machu Picchu within che larger system of which it played such a critica! pare (Figure 1.10).

Nowhere, however, do che earliest Spanish writers describe che site, and there are no descendants of che original inhabitants of che area who might be able to explain its meaning. lndeed, Machu Picchu’s existence was not even revealed to che outside world until after Hiram Bingham’s visit in 1911. Bingham had organized an expedition to search for che last Inca capital ofVilcabamba, che location of which had become lose in che centuries following che Spaniards’ destruction of che site in che 1570s.

An explorer and historian, Bingham had already traveled in che Andes prevíously, even having reached Choquequirao, a site to che south of Machu Picchu that sorne had believed was che legendary Vilcabamba (Figure 1.11). After receiving che backing ofYale University, in 1911 he leda group down che Urubamba River along a route thar had been opened up only a few years earlier in order to help increase trade between che highlands and che lower, forested region. Befare long, it would become che route taken by che railway and che principal way used by visitors to reach Machu Picchu up to che present day.

Advised of ruins on a ridge above che river, Bingham climbed up to them with his military escore and a local farmer to «discover» Machu Picchu. In fact, che name Picha (i.e., picchu or «peak») had been noted in documents in che 1550s and 1700s, and a few people had already been aware of che ruins prior to 1911. lt was Bingham, however, who surveyed che site and made it known to che larger public, and he has been rightly credited with being che «scientific discoverer» of Machu Picchu.

Having found che ruins so early in his expedition, he spent little time there and instead continued with his search for more ruins. He located such important sites as Vitcos and Espíritu Pampa (which turned out to be che original Vilcabamba-unbeknownst to Bingham). Although an inicial mapping ofMachu Picchu was cornplered by two members of Bingham’s team in 1911, che site
Figure 1.9. Machu Picchu is located near the lower end of a long ridge that descends from Nevado Salcantay.

 

 

 

THE INCAS ANO THE DISCOVERY OF MACHU PICCHU

was mainly cleared, surveyed, photographed, and excavated during Bingham’s second expedition of 1912. He carne to believe that Machu Picchu was both the Vilcabamba of the Incas and their place of origin. The results of his work were published by rhe National Geographic Society in 1913, bringing instant fame to rhe site.

Bingham returned in 1915 and found yet more ruins, including most of those that lie along the now famous Inca Trail. For a number of reasons, he did not return to Machu Picchu until 1948, when the road from the river to the site was opened. (4) In 1981 the Machu Picchu Historical Sanctuarywas established, with its boundaries set to include, and protect, a larger ecological zone (Figure 1.12).

Despite its renown, rhere has always been an air of mystery about Machu Picchu, and it continues to excite the imaginations of visitors. Scholars have long struggled to answer sorne of the most basic questions: Why was Machu Picchu built in such an inaccessible location? Why was it abandoned? What was its meaning?

Many attempts have been made to answer these questions, sorne based on careful scholarship, others on speculations unburdened by facts. In this book I am
Figure 1.11. The ruins of Choquequirao with mountains of the Vilcabamba behind.
Machu Picchu

THE INCAS ANO THE DISCOVERY OF MACHU PICCHU
concerned with examining Machu Picchu in relation to the sacred geographical beliefs of the Incas. Such an approach has proven useful in examining pre-Inca ceremonial centers elsewhere in rhe Andes,2 and the importance of geographical features in Inca religion has been amply demonstrated.3 Although Machu Picchu was more than just a religious center, as we will see below, it had many structures of finely worked stone. Based on what the Spaniards wrote about other Inca si tes, we know that these buildings were of ritual significance, and Bingham named many of rhern with this in mind. Thus guidebooks list names such as rhe Principal Temple, the Intihuatana, rhe Temple of rhe Moon, the Priest’s House, and the Temple of Three Windows. There is no doubt that the religious aspect of the site was a dominant one.4 The archaeologists John Rowe and Luis Valcárcel have pointed out its religious importance and noted how a combination of geographical features found at, and near, its location would have been of significance to the Incas. 5 It is this combination of features, alluded to only briefly by these scholars, that I will examine here.

Given the lack of information about the Machu Picchu region and the few written documents about it dating back to Colonial times, it is necessary to utilize information on Inca beliefs from adjacent areas, along with an examination of the archaeological remains and current-day beliefs in the surrounding region and near Cuzco, heart of the Inca Empire. Unfortunately, there is little information available about sorne key parts of the landscape. This deficiency requires that we pull together diverse pieces to provide a coherent picture of what the situation was probably like during the Inca presence at Machu Picchu. Although incomplete, the data are consistent with the general pattern ofbeliefs that existed during the Inca period.

I intend to show that Machu Picchu can be better understood when analyzed within the context of rhe surrounding geographical features and their association with astronomical events considered sacred by the Incas. The methodology employed here to help establish this premise relies not only on the use of Inca beliefs and cusroms but also on a study of the natural landscape and presentday beliefs with roots in Inca concepts. This does not mean that such beliefs have remained unchanged, only that in broad terms they reflect a view of the environment in accordance with that held by the Incas. They can, therefore, help in the development of a theory that better explains the known facts about Machu Picchu. Assuming that the theory is capable of providing a reasonable explanation for the site’s location, it follows that it can in turn assist in the interpretation ofMachu Picchu’s function and of the meanings of sorne ofits principal features. Ir is time now to examine the sacred geography surrounding the ruins of Machu Picchu.
ChapterTwo

Sacred Geography and Cosmology at Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu

 

Machu Picchu
Figure 2.1a. A view from the San Miguel ridge with Machu Picchu visible at the lower left and Salcantay to the upper right

SACRED GEOGRAPHY AND COSMOLOGY AT MACHU PICCHU
SACRED GEOGRAPHY

The term sacred geography refers to che geographical features (mouncains, rivers, lakes, boulders, caves, springs) believed to possess supernatural powers or to be che embodiments of supernatural beings. In che Andes che high mountains (commonly called apus in che Cuzco region) were (and still are) considered among che most powerful of che tradicional deities. Lakes were also important bue do not seem to have played a major role in che region of Machu Picchu, where che lakes are small and widely scattered. Rivers, especially che Urubamba (Vilcanota) River, springs, caves, and boulders ali played roles in che sacred geography of che region, bue it is che rugged mouncain topography surrounding Machu Picchu rhat appears to have been of primary importance. Before attempting to interpret che meaning of Machu Picchu, it is necessary to examine sorne of che pase and current-day beliefs relating to chis topography.
SALCANTAY ANO AUSANGATE
Rising in solicary splendor due souch of Machu Picchu, Salcancay (6,271 m/20,574 feet) is one of che highest and most impressive mountains in che Department of Cuzco, and it dominares che region of Machu Picchu (Figures 2.1 and 2.2). Visible from great distances, it was highly revered in Inca times and concinues to be so today. The name Salcantay probably stems from che Quechua word salcca (salqa), which means «wild or uncivilized.»6

Tradicional people living near Cuzco perceive Salcantay as che «brorher» of Ausangate.7 Ausangate (6,372 m/20,905 feet) is che highest mouncain in che Deparcmenc of Cuzco and che only snowcapped mouncain visible from che city of Cuzco (Figures 2.3 and 2.4). Many people believe che two mountains to be che «fathers» of ali che mountains and to be equally powerful.8 Ouring my study I found that these mountains were often che first to be named in rituals in che Cuzco region, and cheir permission is frequencly sought before making offerings to che other mountains.9 When such offerings are made by local communities, they generally revolve around requests for good weather and increased crop and livestock fercility. 10 When done on che behalf of individuals, che requests are often concerned wich healch, cheft, loss of items, desires for increased prosperity, or success in business.11

Salcantay’s importance is not restricted to che area around che city of Cuzco.

The anthropologist Juan Nuñez del Prado found it to be a principal mountain deity

Machu Picchu
Figure 2.2. Salcantay as seen with a telephoto lens from the platform above Phuyupatamarka.

for the entire Department of Cuzco and a turelary deity for the Departrnent of Apurimac as well.12 One of the earliest references to Salcantay is that of the Spanish priest Cristóbal de Albornoz, who wrote in 1583 that Salcantay was «very revered.»!’ Another early source, Juan de Santa Cruz Pachacuti, wrote thar «Sallcatay» was one of the mountains to which the «huacas» (sacred places or objects, here referring to various deities) were banished by the god Tonopa (Tunupa). 14 In a document of 1697 found in the Cuzco Archives, Salcamay was one of the principal mountain deities called upon for curing a man in Cuzco.15 Salcantay is still commonly invoked in rituals to cure illnesses in the Cuzco region. 16

In the late 1800s Salcantay was noted as being amale (called Urco Salcantay) (urco meaning male or mountain) and his wife was Huaca (or Huacay) Huillca (Waqaywillka or Veronica) (see below), also called China Salcantay (china meaning female) .17 lnterestingly, these names have also been used for the two summits of Salcantay: China Salcantay as the female and Urco Salcantay as rhe male.18

Two summits are both believed to be irascible deities quick to avenge themselves on anyone who disturbs them. Salcantay’s wrath was also noted near Cuzco and further emphasized by a ritual specialist, Luciano Carbajal, in Ollantaytambo. 19 This serves to demonstrate the fear this deity arouses in people and the power nattributed to him. Ir is no surprise to find that people crossing the range near Salcantay still make simple offerings in order to avoid his wrath (Figure 2.5).

In rhe Cuzco region many ritual specialists (paqos and altomisayoqs) consider themselves under the domain of either Salcantay or Ausangate, depending on where they resided when they learned their trade.» In order to be «presented» to these mountains, the student and his teacher should journey to their slopes.21 Ritual specialists from Quillabamba in the tropical lowlands are also said to go to Salcamay for spiritual empowerment.

Sorne ritual specialists claim that initiations to Salcantay take place at lakes near the mountain Suparaura (south of Salcantay) or at lakes near Pumasillo (closer to and west of Salcantay).23 Suparaura (5,106 m/16,752 feet) lies to the south of Abancay (southwest ofCuzco) and was noted as being a very important deity at the time of the Spanish conquest. 24 Albornoz, writing in the late 1500s, stated rhat it was the principal deity of the Aymaraes people who inhabited rhat region.25 Because Suparaura is a much lower mountain and farther from Cuzco, we can assume that the Incas considered it less powerful than Salcantay, just as it is considered today.

Figure 2.3. The snowcapped mountain of Ausangate stands out to the east of Cuzco.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu

The conceptualized dividing line between the domains of Salcantay and Ausangate is at Cuzco, with slight variations depending on where a given ritual specialist resides. For example, a paqo living in Huasao, 18 km east of Cuzco, might perceive Huasao as the place of division.  The majority of paqos interviewed in the region of Cuzco, however, placed the dividing line in the sacred capital of the Incas.

The Incas considered a mountain close to Cuzco, Huanacauri, to be one of the most sacred places in rhe empire (Figure 2.6). In current-day beliefs Huanacauri derives power from Ausangate and is still widely worshipped in rhe region. (5) The extent of Ausangate’s power, however, was not limited to rhe Cuzco region. For example, one paqo claimed that Ausangate’s domain extended ali the way to Lake Titicaca, and an anthropologist noted that Ausangate is one of the most powerful mountain deities worshipped in the area bordering Lake Titicaca to the northwest.

Not surprisingly, Ausangate and Salcantay are the highest mountains in the entire Department of Cuzco. It is necessary to go ali the way to the Cordillera Real in Bolivia on the northeast side of Lake Titicaca to find a mountain higher than these two peaks to the sourheast, and none is higher to the north. Only one, Coropuna, is higher to the southwest of Cuzco, and chis volcano is considerably distan t. Aside from Coropuna, the only mountains higher in Peru are found in the Cordilleras Blanca and Huayhuash, far to the northwest. lt is no coincidence that these higher mountains were also very important in Inca religious beliefs once the Incas had expanded their empire to include che regions in which they are located.

Figure 2.6. A view over the central part of Cuzco with Huanacauri on the left skyline.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 2.7. Modern-day offerings for rnountain gods can include a llarna fetus, colored threads, rnetallic figurines, sweets, and products from the ocean and the jungle lowlands.

Ausangate and Salcantay also constitute rhe highest mountains whose snows feed the rivers that flow into the jungle. In the region of Salcantay this deiry is the one perceived as the «owner» of ali produces from the lowland forested area considered to be powerful, such as coca leaves, cane alcohol, coffee, and cacao.29 Salcantay is renowned throughout the forested hills, including the provinces ofLa Convención, Calca, and Paucartambo to the norrh and east of Salcantay and the province of Anta to che sourh.l» In che Cuzco region sacred power is associated with the tropical forest,31 and several tropical planes are thought to contain magical properties and are used in rituals around Cuzco (see Figure 2.7).

lt might be of interest here to note the association that Salcantay has with coca, a tropical plant of great significance in Inca ceremonies. Sorne writers, such as Eugenio Alarco and Carlos Troll, believe that Machu Picchu (which is dominated by Salcantay as we have seen) played a part in the cultivation and trading of coca leaves.32 Recent discoveries oflarge areas of terracing near Machu Picchu and at the site itself support this rheory, Although it is unclear whether coca was grown at Machu Picchu;» this uncertainry does not rule out rhe possibility rhat the site played a role in the coca leaf trade.

A document of 1568 noted that lndians cultivated coca in the valley below Machu Picchu.l» Since in the early years of the conquest the Spaniards generally took over existing coca plantations that belonged to the Incas, this would indicare that coca was grown in the area during the period Machu Picchu was a functioning center. This seems even more likely given rhe isolation of the region, which bordered on territory controlled for years by rebel Incas unwilling to submit to the Spaniards, and its having been conquered by the Inca emperor Pachacuti, who began Inca expansion in this region in the mid-1400s.35 The use of coca today is still invariably accompanied by invocations to the mountains,36 including in the Vilcabamba region, where Machu Picchu is located. 37 In view of the beliefs noted above, Salcantay can be expected to have played an important religious-economic role not only with regard to coca but also with regard to other crops from the forested hills and lowlands.

COSMOLOGY AND SALCANTAY

There are also links between Salcantay and astronomical phenomena, especially stars in the Milky Way. Salcantay’s association with the Southern Cross would not have gone unnoticed by the Incas at Machu Picchu. From Machu Picchu the Southern Cross is seen to rise on rhe east and to set on the west of Salcantay, and since it is above a point due south when it reaches its highest position in the sky,38 it would also have been directly above Salcantay. Severa! scholars (e.g., the anthropologists Tom Zuidema and Gary Urton in 1976) have demonstrated the importance of the Southern Cross (and adjacent stars) and the Milky Way in Inca thought.39  lnformation collected in the Cuzco region during recent years provides additional evidence for why this is so.

Urton described in his publications of 1978 and 1981 current-day beliefs in the Cuzco region with regard to the Quechua zodiac, the celestial plane of orientation that includes star groupings of the Milky Way. He noted that they are clearly based on Inca concepts as described by the Spanish chroniclers. Urton found that there were rwo types of constellations: Star-to-Star and Dark Cloud constellations. Star-to-Star constellations link stars to form zoomorphic, geometrical, or architectural figures along ornear the main path of the Milky Way (Figure 2.8). lhe Dark Cloud constellations are the black areas (formed of interstellar dust) that show up most distinctly, by way of contrast, in that portien of the Milky Way with the densest clustering of stars. lhese constellations are perceived principally as animals (Figure 2.9).40

Machu Picchu

Figure 2.8. Star-to-Star constellations as perceived by people in the region of Cuzco today. The drawing is from Urton (1981).

Quechua people living near Cuzco thought rhat the Milky Way is a celestial river that is actively in volved in the earth’s hydrological cycle. 41 Next to the Sourhern Cross are the stars Alpha and Beta Centaurus, called the Eyes of the Llama. lhey are at the end of the Dark Cloud constellation of the Llama.42 In the Inca period (and still today) the celestial Llama was believed to be direcdy involved with life on che earth, assisting in che circulation of its waters and in the fertility of llamas.43 lt appears in the sky befare and during the rainy season, which occurs in che South American summer months.»

Machu Picchu

MACHU PICCHU
Figure 2.9. The Incas identified most of these Dark Cloud constellations in the same way as present-day villagers in the area of Cuzco. In this figure they are seen as they would appear in the rainy season. The drawing is adapted from Urton (1981).

In che eastern Cuzco region che owner of llamas is believed to be Ausangate, 45 and chis belief was likely held by the Incas. In the region of Salcantay livestock are thought to be under chis deity’s protection,46 and chis was likely the case during che Inca period. It might be added thar che name salqa is used to denote che grazing land oflivestock sorne 200 km west of Machu Picchu.47 lt seems reasonable to assume that there may have been a conceptual linkage between the rising of constellations associated with llamas and Salcantay, che llamas’ earthly protector. Significantly, Urton noted the current-day belief among the Quechuas near Cuzco rhat the animals of the Dark Cloud constellations originally carne from che earth and rhar one of che ways to enter che sky was through che summit of a mountain.48

SACRED GEOGRAPHY ANO COSMOLOGY AT MACHU PICCHU

Near the Llama is the Fox Dark Cloud constellation. Around the time of rhe December solstice che sun rises inro chis constellation and chus also into che Milky Way, the celestial river.49 The fox occurs in one legend at the time of the Incas as a helper of a mountain god,50 and is still widely perceived, including near Cuzco, as che «dog» of che mountain deities.51 The December solstice occurs during che onset of the rainy season, when the sun rises out of the Urubamba (Vilcanota) gorge as seen from Machu Picchu and from behind Ausangate as seen from Cuzco, and it also rises into the celestial river. Ausangate is che main source of che Vilcanota River, and it is interesting that the fox not only is a helper of mountain gods but also rhar in sorne legends he helps specifically by carrying water.52

There are other beliefs that link Star-to-Star and Dark Cloud constellations of the Milky Way with mountains, and, assuming the beliefs were shared by the Incas, they would therefore associate rhern with Salcantay as seen from Machu Picchu. For example, there is a star constellation called the Serpent that is changing into the Condor (see Figure 2.8).53 Serpents are (and were also in Inca times) associated with water in many ways in Andean beliefs (e.g., as being able to transform themselves into rivers and lightning), which are often perceived as concrolled by mountain deities.54 Condors, which soar around the highest slopes of che mountains, are widely thought in che Andes to be che representations, or manifestations, of the mountain gods; thus, it is no surprise to find that Salcantay is believed toda y to transform himself into one. 55

On the opposite side of the Southern Cross are che Toad and Serpent Dark Cloud constellations (Figure 2.9). The Toad constellation rises into the sky during che rainy season.56 Toads are commonly utilized in rituals for rain,57 and their croaking is believed to announce the onset of rains not far from Machu Picchu.58 We have already seen the association of serpents with water. lt might be added that serpents are most active during che wet season, che time che celestial serpent is highest in the sky.59 Thus the Southern Cross is surrounded by constellations rhat have to do with water, mountains, and fertility. Given rhe historical continuity and sharing of traditions, chis was likely che case at che time of che Incas. This grouping of constellations around the summit of Salcantay at the time of the December solstice and during the onset of the rainy season would surely have been of religious and economic significance to che people of Machu Picchu/»

Among Quechua people living to the south of Cuzco, the Southern Cross is referred to as che Calvary Cross, a name used for a cross standing on top of a mountain.61 These crosses are used for the protection of crops from bad weather and in sorne areas of the Andes are believed to represent mountain deities and to increase fertiliry, concepts that probably were associated in Inca thought with che Southern Cross and Salcantay.62

Unfortunately, there is little direct documentation of Inca beliefs about the Southern Cross.63 The Incas, however, called a Dark Cloud constellation, a pan of which is within rhe Southern Cross, the yutu. The yutu is a tinamou bird rhat was called by the Spanish a perdiz (partridge). It may be significant thar the Incas sacrificed «partridges» (along with llamas) on mountaintops during the new moon and that people in the Cuzco region today consider the yutu to represent the mountain gods.64 In addition, the eggs of the tinamou have a variety of colors resembling the rainbow.65 Appearing together with the Southern Cross, the Tinamou constellation is also related to crop fertiliry, the rainy season, and thus the time that rainbows appear. Near Cuzco today the Milky Way is considered the equivalent of a nocturnal rainbow. The Tinamou constellation is in its center, together with the Southern Cross and thus above Salcantay during the onset of the rainy season.66

The Southern Cross appears to have been depicted in a drawing of Inca cosmology made about 1613 and within rhat context was interprered as relating to fertility.67 According to Urton it is at its highest point in the sky on the morning of the December solstice, a particularly important event associated with fertility in Inca religion.68 Furthermore, the appearance of the Southern Cross prior to the rainy season when planting begins and its disappearance after the rains around the time of harvesting69 suggest that its perceived association with weather and fertility by the Quechua people today was also shared by rhe Incas. At Machu Picchu the position of the Southern Cross in the center of the celestial river, and its alignment at its highest point in the sky with Salcantay, water, weather, and fertility in modern-day beliefs, would have made for an important combination of symbols (Figure 2.9).

In addition, Machu Picchu itself is on a ridge between rivers rhat have their origins from rhe slopes of rhe Salcantay massif. Salcantay not only dominares the region ofMachu Picchu, but it also forros the center of a U-shaped ridge pattern, with two ridges leading north. Machu Picchu is on the tip of the eastern arm, lying along a ridge that extends due north from Salcantay via lower peaks until it meets the sacred Urubamba River (see Figures 1.1 O and 2.1). A direct link exists, therefore, between the most powerful mountain deity of a vast region, astronornical phenomena, and an important Inca ritual center.

SACRED GEOGRAPHY ANO COSMOLOGY AT MACHU PICCHU
PUMASILLO

The mountain Pumasillo (6,075 m/19,931 feet) lies west of Machu Picchu and is the highest of a series of peaks forming the Sacsarayoc range (as it is called on sorne maps) (Figure 1.10 ) . The name Pumasillo means «pumas claw,» although it is unclear if this was the pre-Hispanic name for the mountain. The people of rhe province ofLa Convención, and especially in the Vilcabamba region rhar the range dominares, still worship the mountains of this range (and mountains closer to their villages) principally for the fertility oflivestock and for crops.?»

Although I have not found references to these mountains in the Spanish chronicles-which, in any event, mention very little about the religious beliefs of the people of this region-there can be no doubt rhat such worship took place at rhe time the Incas conquered the area in the mid- l 400s. Archaeological remains such as ceremonial platforms on mountaintops in the Punkuyoc range ofVilcabamba help substantiate this likelihood (see Figure 1.10).71

The site of lncahuasi, on one of rhe summits of the Punkuyoc range, has been identified as the high mountain place visited by the Inca rebel emperor Sayri Topa when he consulted the Sun, Earth, and other deities (certainly including rnountains) in 1557 about whether to accept the Spaniards’ offer for him to rerurn to Cuzco (see Figure 2.10).72
Figure 2.10. A perfectly preserved Inca structure at lncahuasi exists just below ritual platforms on a summit of the Punkuyoc range in the Vilcabamba region. This site lies due north of Vitcos. Views from here include Salcantay, the Pumasillo range, and other snowcapped mountains of Vilcabamba.

Machu Picchu

According to the anthropologist Stuart White, one of the higher nearby summits of the Punkuyoc range «receives in modern times enormous ritual attention from Vilcabamba residents.»73 lt may be no coincidence that this mountain lies on rhe June solstice line for rhe setting sun as it extends from Machu Picchu and also supplies water to the Vilcabamba River, which in turn flows into the Vilcanota River. The mountain also lies on the legendary route of the Inca ereator god, Viracocha,74 and one of the peaks of the range, Viracochan, is named for this deity.75

The Pumasillo or Sacsarayoc range, with its series of peaks on the western skyline, would have served especially well for making astronomical observations from Machu Picchu (Figure 2.11). The use of mountains for such observations has been demonstrated for the Cuzco region76 and has, indeed, been noted as common practice among native peo ples throughout the Americas. 77 As seen from the lntihuatana stone at Machu Picchu, the sun sets behind the highest summit of Pumasillo (246º) at the December solstice, 78 one of the most important dates on the Inca religious calendar. The setting of the sun at the equinoxes is in line with the northern end of the snowcapped peaks of this range, at which point there is an Inca trail leading to the former Inca capital of Vitcos in Vilcabamba (see Figures 1.1 O, 2.11, and 2.12). The Vilcabamba region was con quered by the Inca emperor Pachacuti, the likely founder of Machu Picchu, as we will see.79

Figure 2.11. The Pumasillo range as viewed from Cerro San Miguel, due west from Machu Picchu. The highest summit on the left is the mountain of Pumasillo. The sun sets behind it at the Oecember solstice. The end of the range at the right is where the sun sets at the equinoxes and also where an Inca road leads to Vitcos.

Machu Picchu
SACRED GEOGRAPHY ANO COSMOLOGY AT MACHU PICCHU

Within Machu Picchu itself there is a building adjacent to the «Principal Temple,» which was called the «Priest’s House.T'» Its location and exceptional stonework indicare that it hadan important religious function (see Figure 2.13). This structure is siruated at the foot of the stairs leading to the Intihuatana stone, which I have interprered as associated with mountain worship. It may be more than chance, therefore, thar the doorway of the Priest’s House faces out to the Pumasillo range, with its highest summit prominently in the center.
Figure 2.12. A reconstruction of what Vitcos would have looked like at the time of Inca occupation (from Lee 2000).
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35
Machu Picchu

VERONICA (WAQAYWILLKA)

The mountain range called Veronica on most maps dominares che horizon to the east ofMachu Picchu (Figures 1.10 and 2.14). The highest summit (5,750 m/18,865 feet) is generally called Waqaywillka (also spelled Huacay Huilque in sorne accounts) by che local inhabitants. The name appears to be formed by che Quechua words huaca, meaning sacred place or object, and willca (or vilca), also meaning a sacred object, although apparently it also meant the sun in ancient times.81 The Incas frequently applied the term uaca bilca (waqa willka) to local deities, especially mountains.82

Ir is also possible rhat che name derives from willki, meaning spirit of a «peak,» and waqay, meaning «to cry.»83 According to a local ritual specialist, Luciano Carbajal, the tears refer to the many streams that flow from che mountain and to their association with rain, which is controlled by Veronica, as well as Salcantay (along with other major mountains of the region).84 Veronica and Salcantay communicate with each other using voices of thunder, which obviously is associatedwith rain.
Figure 2.14. The Veronica range dominates the eastern skyline as seen from Cerro San Miguel. Machu Picchu is in the lower center of the picture, and the highest summit of Veronica is the snowcapped peak in the center, lying due east. The other main summit of the range is to the left and is visible from the lntihuatana.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu

One of Veronica’s principal summits is visible from Machu Picchu (e.g., from the Intihuatana stone [see Figure 2.15]), and the highest summit is visible from prominences near Machu Picchu, such as Huayna Picchu, Machu Picchu Mountain, and Cerro San Miguel (see Figure 1.10). At the equinoxes the sun rises behind the highest summit. This combination of a snowcapped sacred mountain and the rising of the sun at the equinoxes would have added to the reverence paid to chis mountain. Ir might also explain the use of the word willka, with its semantic connotations of»sacred» and «sun.» Still today stars, including the sun, are believed to acquire a greater amount of power when they become associated with a sacred mountain.85

This mountain is also referred to as «Eterno Abuelo» (Eternal Grandfather or Ancestor) and, as a variation, «Padre Eterno» (Eternal Father).86 These names, andones with a similar meaning, are also applied to other sacred mountains.87 They serve as terms of respect for the mountains, which are viewed in many areas as protectors (like fathers) and may also have been seen by earlier inhabitants as their places of origin.88 Sorne people attribute these names specifically to che slighdy lower summit of rhe Veronica range visible from the Imihuatana stone at Machu Picchu.

As one would expect, Veronica is still highly revered by people in the region. lt is worshipped for the fertility of crops, livestock, and good health.89 Like other major mountains, it can provide illas, which are stones often shaped like livestock and thoughr to be gifrs of the mountain deities for increasing the size of herds. 90

Dominating as it does an important road linking the highlands with the tropical lowlands, Veronica receives offerings from travelers and businessmen for the success of their journeys. During the Inca period roads passed below the mountain to the south along the Urubamba River and to the north via a high pass. This latter route became rhe principal road used to reach Vilcabamba from Cuzco after the Spanish conquest (Figure 1.10).

Above the Inca quarry to the south of the Urubamba River near Ollantaytambo there are Inca structures (artificial platforms, one with a doorway that frames Veronica) at elevations of 3,900 m/12,795 feet and 4,450 m/14,560 feet built on prominences that provide excellent views toward Veronica (Figure 2.16).91 On the opposite side of the river on the slopes ofVeronica at ca. 4,050 mi 13,287 feet is another artificial plarforrn wirh a dominating view of the mountain.» These types of structures were primarily for ceremonial use, as will be noted below, and thus provide archaeological evidence supporting Veronica’s religious importance during the Inca period.
Figure 2.16. The town of Ollantaytambo with the mountain Veronica (Waqaywillka) looming above.42

MOUNTAIN WORSHIP IN THE ANDES
There are sorne common elements of mountain worship in the Andes, especially relating to the large snowcapped peaks, which we have seen can apply to the mountains in the region of Machu Picchu. Based on the historical and ethnographic evidence, one of the most important of these elements is the belief thar the high mountains control weather and thus the fertility of crops and animals. This belief is based on ecological realiry, since meteorological phenomena (rain, snow, hail, clouds, lighming, thunder, etc.) often originate in the mountains.93 Other common elements should be examined to help us better understand the role mountain worship could have had in rhe region.

A social cohesion, in sorne cases even an ethnic identity, could have revolved around worship of these sacred mountains, justas has been noted for many areas of the Andes, for example, Ayacucho, 94 the region north ofLake Titicaca,95 central Bolivia.» Huancavelica,97 and in the region of Cuzco.98 This was also clearly the case in prehispanic times.99

Social cohesion would have brought with it política! ramifications. For example, mountains may have been perceived as protectors and war gods of the peoples who lived near them and worshipped them. IOO To consolidate their rule, the Incas may have atrernpted to appropriate this association with the mountains by constructing special places of worship such as Machu Picchu. w1

Throughout the Andes, mountain deities were also believed to be the owners of wild animals.l'» This was the case in the Cuzco region as well.103 Hunting of wild animals was thus linked to the mountains.’?» In the rugged area ofMachu Picchu, which had a large number of wild animals (pumas, bears, poisonous snakes, birds, and so forth), their presence would have provided an additional reason for rnountain worship. (As noted above, the Quechua word for «wild» is salqa and forms the root of che name Salcantay.) Ir míghr be added thar Topa Inca, who took che place of his father Pachacuti (probable builder of Machu Picchu, as we will see) while he still lived, was said to have been a keen hunter. 105

I have referred briefly to the important role that mountain deities played with regard to domesticated animals. Llamas and alpacas played a vital role in the economy of the Incas, and throughout the Andes mountain deities are perceived as their owners and as responsible for their fertiliry.l'» The same beliefs are also held in the Cuzco region. 107 As we have seen, Ausangate is perceived as the owner of these animals in the region of Cuzco.l'» Llamas were used to transpon goods in the region ofMachu Picchu, but they also grazed close to the mountains, providing yet another reason for the importance of mountain worship. Because of their

SACRED GEOGRAPHY ANO COSMOLOGY AT MACHU PICCHU
association with pack animals and with prosperity in general, mountain deities were invoked for success in trade, I09 justas they are today.’ ‘º

The Spanish priest Bernabé Cobo noted that the Vilcabamba region was rich in mineral wealth, which the Incas exploited.111 The only mines near Machu Picchu of which I am aware that may have been originally worked by the Incas are at the headwaters of the Aobamba River and the Pampa Qhawana River, both of which are at the foot of Salcantay.112 Ir remains to be seen, therefore, whether mining played a role in Machu Picchu’s importance. It might be added, however, that mining invariably involved worship of mountain gods, who were believed to be the owners of the minerals. 113 Thus, even if mining was associated with Machu Picchu, it would not affect the interpretation presented here.

As we have seen in the case ofSalcantay, ritual specialists are widely believed to receive their power from the sacred mountains. Only the most experienced and knowledgeable of these specialists could deal directly with the highest and most powerful mountains.114 Such specialists invoke the mountain gods to cure illnesses, foretell the future, find lost objects, help people obtain prosperity and success in business, and perform rituals on behalf of rhe community for the fertiliry of crops and animals (Figure 2.17).
Figure 2.17. A ritual specialist (paqo) burns offerings to the rnountain gods (apus) near Cuzco.
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Machu Picchu
Figure 2.18. The Urubamba River circles Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu in this view from the summit of Machu Picchu Mountain looking north. The lower peaks of the Veronica massif form the skyline.
Machu Picchu

We know that the Inca emperor considered ritual specialists who served the mountain deities to be especially privileged, and he personally supported these men.’!’ Machu Picchus unique setting amidst the most powerful mountains of the region would have made it an ideal place not only for worship of the mountains but also for receiving their powers and perhaps serving as a center for initiations to them, much as ritual places in the mountains are utilized today.

Mountains, therefore, were worshipped for many reasons, including rhe fertility of domesticated camelids and crops, trade, curing of illnesses, weather control, protection from enemies, control of wild animals, and empowerment of ritual specialists. But worship was not limited to great mountains such as Salcantay, Pumasillo, and Veronica; lesser mountains near Machu Picchu would also have played important roles.

HUAYNA PICCHU

We have already seen Machu Picchu’s direct physical link with Salcantay. The sacred Urubamba River nearly encircles the promontory where the site is located, likely adding to the sacredness of the mountain rhat dominares it, Huayna Picchu (Figure 2.18). This mountain, which serves as the backdrop to the classic view ofMachu Picchu, marks the end of the ridge before it plunges to the Urubamba River below. lt was for this reason that the steep gorge thus formed became known as the «Gateway of Salcantay.»116

Huayna Picchu is framed as one enters through the main Inca gateway into Machu Picchu (Figure 2.19). lt overlooks the site (being 207 m/679 feet higher) and commands a magnificent view: the main peaks of the Veronica range to the east, rhe snowcapped peaks of rhe Pumasillo range to the west, and the summit of Salean ta y to the south (Figure 2.20).

The archaeological remains, such as carvings of a ceremonial nature in boulders, on and near the summit of Huayna Picchu 117 help to substantiate that it was considered sacred by rhe Incas, as does the Temple of the Moon down on its western slope, which is linked to the summit by an impressive trail cut through a cliff face. Hills that dominate communities in the Cuzco and Vilcabamba regions, whether in Inca or modern times, are invariably viewed as being local protector deities and usually are responsible, at least in part, for the fertility of crops and livestock.118 We would expect rhat Huayna Picchu played a similar role with regard to Machu Picchu.

Machu Picchu

Figure 2.20. Looking south from the summit of Huayna Picchu, the tip of Salcantay (marked by an arrow) is behind the central peak of the skyline. In the lower part of the photo is a V-shaped carving in a stone, and a similar one is found near the lntihuatana below. Machu Picchu

MACHU PICCHU MOUNTAIN

Overlooking Machu Picchu to the south líes the mountain for which it was named (Figure 2.21). lt is sorne 500 m/1,640 feet higher than the ruins, and a very well-made stairway leads from Machu Picchu to its summit. On top is a series of interconnected artificial platforms that have been heavily damaged by treasure hunters. Although Bingham called this summit complex a «signa! station,» it clearly was more than that.119

As in the case of Huayna Picchu, Machu Picchu Mountain would probably have been perceived as a local protector deity. Artificial plarforrns similar to those on its summit have been found on mountain summits near Cuzco, such as on Cerro Pinta and Pachatusan, and even exist at ca. 6,700 m (21,981 feet) in the southern Andes. 120 These hada religious function, as is clear from the Inca ritual offerings

found buried in thern (not for nothing have the platforms on Machu Picchu Mountain been extensively dug into by treasure hunters), the extensive system of structures and roads leading to and up the mountains (hardly necessary for only making signals), the sacredness of the mountains themselves, and the negligible role that signa! stations could have played on the higher peaks in a system of communications.121 This does not mean that the platforms could not have served as places from which to send signals in sorne cases, but this purpose would have been of secondary importance compared to the religious-politicaleconomic factors involved in worship of the mountains themselves

Figure 2.21. Machu Picchu Mountain dominates the background in this view from the hilltop of the lntihuatana. The Sacred Plaza is in the lower part of the picture along with the Principal Temple. To its left is the Temple of Three Windows.
Machu Picchu

There is another reason for Machu Picchu Mountain’s importance. Bingham noted that there were severa! springs on the side of this mountain that were utilized by people at Machu Picchu to supply water.122 Sources of water were (and still are) in themselves sacred and made up a substantial number of the sacred places surrounding Cuzco, as noted by Cobo in the mid- l 600s. 123 But of particular interest is a common belief in the Cuzco region that water originating lower down on the slopes of a mountain originares inside the mountain itself.124 West of Cuzco springs are even seen as the entrances used by rhe mountain gods.125

As I noted with regard to the ruins of Machu Picchu, they (and thus Machu Picchu Mountain) do not exist in isolation bur rarher are on a ridge that extends down from Salcantay. Given the nature of Inca beliefs, it is not unlikely that the water that led through Machu Picchu was thoughr to take on part of the sacred character of Salcantay. lhese waters would in turn have been used in the ritual fountains at the site and may have been utilized to sorne degree for irrigation. The mountains, subterranean waters, irrigation systems, and river flow would thus have been united in a sacred hydraulic chain.126

When I began this discussion of the sacred geography of rhe Machu Picchu region, I noted that one river in particular played an important role at the site, and we should now examine why this was so.

THE URUBAMBA (VILCANOTA) RIVER

A legend of the Quechua people living near Cuzco links the daily rebirth of rhe sun with its passage beneath the Vilcanota River, whose waters it drinks to regain its brighrness.U? (The name of the river changes from Vilcanota to Urubamba before it reaches Machu Picchu.) The Vilcanota River runs southeast to northwesr (until beyond Machu Picchu) (Figure 2.4), and it is considered the terrestrial reflection of the daytime path of the sun during the period surrounding the December solstice.128 Berween rhe months of November and February rhe axis of the Milky Way runs southeast to northwest, with one end being near the position of the rising sun at the December solstice, and the sun rises at this time into the Milky Way. 129

According to current-day beliefs the sun follows the course of the Vilcanota River underground during rhe night to rise again the next day in rhe east.130 The rainy period intensifies after the Oecember solstice, when the flow of the rivers increases and rhe growing season begins. The legend does not specifically refer to the region farther downriver to Machu Picchu, nor is there historical docurnentation of the same beliefs being held by the Incas, but there is evidence that this was the case, as we will see.

Based on the above, it would seem that it was not by chance that the name Vilcanota meant «house of the sun» or «house where the sun was born» in the language of the Aymara people, presumably because the river (and the mountain range of the same name at its source) flows along the sun’s path as seen from Cuzco.131 The Vilcanota River is also equated today with the celestial river, the Milky Way, 132 and probably was during rhe Inca period as well.

The Vilcanota River has its principal sources of origin in the snows of Ausangate and in rhe snows of mountains (associated in contemporary beliefs wirh Ausangate) located above the Pass ofLa Raya, southeast of Cuzco (see Figures 2.4 and 2.22). Ali rivers that have their sources in Ausangate are seen today to partake of its powers and sacred character.1 JJ In addition, rhe snows of other sacred mountains, including Veronica and Salcamay, also feed this river. It is widely believed that such water is a fertilizing agent of the mountain gods.134

The river itself is viewed as an important deity among people in the Cuzco region today.135 Its sacred character at the time of the Incas is demonstrated by important ruins at its source, 136 which were associated with the temple of Vilcanota (locared at the Pass ofLa Raya), noted as one of rhe most important in the Inca Empire (Figure 2.22) .137 This is also supported by our knowledge of the religious significance of rivers in Inca thought and, of course, by the numerous Inca sites of importance, including Pisac and Ollantaytambo, found along the Vilcanota/Urubamba River’s course until passing by Machu Picchu. (6)

After completing his acts of creation at Lake Titicaca, the Inca deity Viracocha is believed to have followed a route in his journey from rhe lake to rhe ocean that followed a SE-NW line (i.e., paralleling the general course of the Vilcanota River) until well beyond Machu Pícchu.!» Urton believes rhat Viracocha can be equated in Inca thought with the Vilcanota River and the Milky Way.139 Viracocha was certainly closely associated with water cults and mountains, 140 and important temples devoted to him, such as at Rajchi and Viracochan (southeast ofCuzco), were located along the Vilcanota River.141 (Indeed, the river sets off the mountain ofViracochan by making a loop around it, muchas it does at Machu Picchu.) This may be one reason that two statues of Viracocha were reportedly kept at Amaybamba, 142 a place along the river of the same name not far from Machu

Machu Picchu
Figure 2.22. The pass of La Raya, location of the Temple of Vilcanota, origin of the Vilcanota (Urubamba) River and final destination of an annual pilgrimage made by the Incas.

SACRED GEOGRAPHY ANO COSMOLOGY AT MACHU PICCHU
Picchu, which flowed into the Vilcanota River (see Figure 1.10). A third statue was kept in the same area near the bridge above Chaullay that crossed the river and led to Vilcabamba. 143 lt does not seem mere coincidence that above the region in which the statues were located is another rnountain named Viracochan (Figure 1.1 O) .144 (7)

What we have, then, is a river with a conceptual tie with the passage, and even birth, of the sun. The river’s origin is also directly linked to Ausangate, one of the two major mountain deities of the entire Cuzco region. The river makes a virtual loop around Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu, which are themselves at the end of an arm of Salcantay, the other principal mountain deiry (Figure 1.1 O). The river passage as a whole roughly follows the path of the sun, which rises during the December solstice from behind Ausangate (only to set, as seen from Machu Picchu, behind another of the major snow peaks-and provider of water-Pumasillo). It also is in accord with the legendary journey of the Inca creator deity, Viracocha.

When the river winds around Machu Picchu, the outer part of the loop is on its north side, while Salcantay lies due south. In addition, the Aobamba and Cusichaka rivers, which set off the Machu Picchu sanctuary si tes north and south of the famous Inca Trail and flow into the Urubamba River, both have their principal origins from the snows of Salcantay. The Southern Cross, at the center of the Milky Way (the celestial water source in Inca thought), appears above Salcantay when it reaches its highest point in the sky. The people at Machu Picchu would have been well aware of the sun rising from behind Ausangate (even though the mountain was not visible from Machu Picchu) and setting behind Pumasillo at the December solstice.

As we have seen, the Incas hadan intense concern with the sun’s passage, with sacred mountains, and with rhe orientation of water flow.145 Clearly, rhe unique combination of these elernents at Machu Picchu would have led to its being considered an especially powerful sacred center.

Chapter Three

Architecture and Sacred Landscape

Machu Picchu

Since chere are no historical records or oral traditions that deal direccly with architecture at Machu Picchu, any interpretation muse be based on comparisons with Inca structures elsewhere, on our knowledge oflnca beliefs, on ethnographic data, and on logical deductions formed from examinations of che architecrure’s features wichin che natural settings. Ir would seem obvious thar, if che reasons for Machu Picchu’s location and primary functions were related to sacred landscape in conjunction with celestial orientations anda hydrological cycle, we can expect that such factors would be reflected in sorne of che prominent architectural features at che site (Figure 3 .1).

Although speculative, the presentation of hypotheses to explain sorne structures should assist in provoking a closer examinacion of their functions and placing chem wichin che broader context of which chey are a pare. This may be premature given che lack of material available on Machu Picchu, but avoiding che issue does not serve science and inscead leaves a vacuum chat leads to many highly improbable interpretations, such as can be heard daily by visitors to rhe site. Alternative explanations to those I present can be found in sorne of che principal publications referred to in che text, beginning wich Hiram Bingham’s (1979) main work, and they will not be dealt with in detail here.

Figure 3.1a: The layout of Machu Picchu can best be seen looking south from Huanacauri.

Machu Picchu
Figure 3.1b. A plan of Machu Picchu. (Plan courtesy of Kenneth Wright 2000).
56
ARCHITECTURE ANO SACRED LANDSCAPE

Picchu, Temple of the Moon
Terrace Caretaker’s Houses (main entrance)

Agricultura! Sector

Dry Moat

Ritual Baths

Principal Bath

Temple of the Sun (Torreón) «Palace of the Princess» «Fountain Caretaker’s Houes» Royal Sector

Watchman’s Hut

Funerary Rock

Quarry

Temple of the Three Windows 14 Principal Temple

15 «Sacristy»

16 lntihuatana

17 Sacred Rock

18 Common District 19 Mortar Building

20 «Prison Group» or «Candor Temple» 21 lntimachay
Machu Picchu

 

TEMPLES ON THE SACRED PLAZA

Many visitors to Machu Picchu begin their tour by obtaining an overview of the site from a location near what has come to be called the Watchman’s House (also Guardhouse) (Figures 3.2 and 3.3). lt is adjacent to the so-called Terrace of the Ceremonial Rock, around which can be seen a number of river stones-probably used during Inca times in rituals to invoke water and fertility (Figure 3.4). Inca pilgrims would have passed by the same location on their way to enter the site through the main gateway (Figure 3.5). After passing through the gateway, the trail leads to sorne of the most impressive structures at Machu Picchu, forming part of what Bingham called rhe Sacred Plaza (Figure 3.6) .146

Bordering the plaza on its north side is rhe Principal Temple, which is open to the south and contains a large, carved stone altar (Figure 3.7). Bingham excavated the floor of this structure, but he did not find any artifacts of note. He was surprised, however, to discover a !ayer of white sand. Although sand was occasionally urilized in other Inca structures, 147 rhe use of whire sand in this setting calls to mind the sand found in rhe plazas of Haucaypata and Cusipata in Cuzco.148 Here the sand was brought from the Pacific coast (presumably done at the order of the emperor Pachacuri when he had Cuzco rebuilt) and said to be offered in reverence to the creator deity Ticsi Viracocha.149 He was called this name when he was associated with rhe ocean, 150 and, as we have seen, rhree idols ofViracocha were located not far below Machu Picchu. The presence of sand in the plaza suggests rhat the ocean (morher of ali waters) was seen as being ritually placed in the religious cenrer of Cuzco.151 Keeping in mind information presenred above and that Machu Picchu was a center likely built by Pachacuti, ir would seem reasonable to assume that this was the case ar the Principal Temple as well.

Figure 3.2. Overview of Machu Picchu from near the Watchman’s House.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.3. The Watchman’s House and llama

Whereas rhe ocean is rhought of as rhe origin of ali waters, rhe mountains are perceived as controllers of the waters.152 For this reason seawater and seashells are often used in rituals for rain carried out on mountain summits in the Andes. 153 We could, rherefore, see the use of sand in rhe floor of rhe Principal Temple, open in the direction of Machu Picchu Mounrain and Salcanray (and associated celestial phenornena), as playing a role in a mountain/water cult. On rhe east side of the Sacred Plaza is a beaurifully builr srrucrure that Bingham named the Temple of the Three Windows (Figure 3.8). He nored rhe uniqueness of such large windows in an Inca building and the obvious ceremonial nature of the structure.154 The windows look out toward the mounrains and Urubamba River to the east, while rhe structure is open to rhe west with a clear view to rhe Pumasillo range (Figure 3.9).

Machu Picchu
Figure 3.4. River rocks are found scattered around the «ceremonial stone» near the Watchman’s House

 

Excavations beneath the Temple of the Three Windows and elsewhere near the Sacred Plaza unearthed shards of 66 vessels. Of these vessels, 56 were for holding liquids (see Figure 3.1 O). i;5 It could be argued that such a percentage would hold for pottery found ar any ceremonial site whatever its purpose. The discovery, however, of vessels for holding liquids so near the area of sand at the center of a site that likely was associated with water/weather ceremonies would suggest that the vessels were used in such rites. The many shards found below the windows indicare that the vessels may have been ritually broken, a practice that took place in pre- Inca times and is still common in the Andes today. 156 (Most of the intact vessels collected by Bingham carne from burials, sorne of which were accessible under boulders and likely received offerings during the Inca period; see Figure 3.11.) This hypothesis is furrher strengthened when we place these finds and ceremonial structures within the context of Machu Picchu’s sacred geographical setting and in view of my interpretation of the Intihuatana stone (see below), which is on a hill overlooking rhe Sacred Plaza and connected to it by rhe most carefully constructed stairway at Machu Picchu. (8)

SACRED STONES

Sorne of the stones at Machu Picchu have been carved or set off in such a way rhat clearly indicates they were either worshipped in themselves or used as places of worship. lt will not be possible to examine the majoriry of such stones here, but a few comments should be made as to how they fit into an interpretation of Machu Picchu in terms of sacred geography. Before examining sorne of the stones at Machu Picchu, we should take a look at beliefs held about stones in traditional Andean religion.

In this brief overview I am primarily concerned with stones or boulders rhat are not moveable, a!though this does not mean they do not share characteristics with ones that have been set up artificially. Examining the literature, we find rhat large stones are often believed to house spirits, and in sorne cases these spirits are those of ancestors. 157 When found next to fields or villages, they are frequendy perceived as protector spirits andas capable of increasing productiviry. This is the case near Cuzco today, 158 and similar beliefs were held in prehispanic times over a large area of Peru. 159

Figure 3.5. The main gateway at Machu Picchu.
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.6. The Sacred Plaza, in the lower left center of the picture, was aptly named by Bingham because of the religious nature of the structures surrounding lt. The Principal Temple is visible with finely carved steps leading up from it to the lntihuatana stone (behind the structure in the upper left center). Huayna Picchu is the mountain in the background on the right.

Machu Picchu

ARCHITECTURE ANO SACRED LANDSCAPE
Stones were also noted rhroughour che Andes as representing mountain gods.160 Near Cuzco stones were worshipped on mountains such as Huanacauri, 161 and we know that a stone shaped like chis mountain was worshipped outside of Cuzco. 162 Boulders at villages are still worshipped because of their association with major mountains of the area, such as Ausangate.163 Given the above, it is easy to understand why Bernabé Cobo, writing in che mid-1600s, listed stones as making up 29 percent of che sacred objects around Cuzco.164

Turning now specifically tostones at Machu Picchu, we first have to establish what evidence can be used to determine the possible function of a stone in terms of sacred geography. (9) Since there is no direct historical evidence and the reasons thar boulders were worshipped were not always che same, we have to look at each stone relative to its location within che site and see if its shape, how it was viewed (following che approach to it constructed by the Incas), and nearby iterns would help in establishing its function (e.g., if sacred geographical features were replicated). I am aware of only a few cases where these factors appear to come together, bue these are significant ones.

THE INTIHUATANA

The Intihuatana stone is the centerpiece of a prominent ritual site at rhe ruins. Ir was named Intihuatana by Bingham because of its resemblance to similar carved stones near Cuzco that had been previously called by chis term, which means roughly «che place to which che sun was tied.»165 According to John Rowe chis name does not appear in che literature until 1856, where is was applied to a «huge block» above the Inca site at Ollantaytambo. 166

Most discussions of the Intihuatana have interpreted itas a sundial, but doubts about chis were expressed as long ago as 1910.167 Recent studies by astronomers have been unable to see how che Imihuatana might have served such a function.168 Even if che angles carved on che stone should prove to have had sorne role in astronomical observations, 169 that still would not rule out its having played a role in mountain worship, as we will see below.

It is significant that, viewed from the Intihuatana at Machu Picchu, sacred mountains are in alignment with che cardinal directions. The Veronica range líes to che east, and che sun rises behind its highest summit at che equinoxes (cf. Figures 1.10, 2.14, 3.12, and 3.13). Huayna Picchu is due north (Figure 3.14). A line of snowcapped peaks of the Pumasillo range is to the west, the sun setting behind the highest summit (246º) at the December solstice and the equinox line crossing

Figure 3.7. This structure was named the Principal Temple by Hiram Bingham. Sand was found to cover the /loor of the temple
Reinhard.indb 64
Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.8. The beautifully carved windows that gave rise to the name Temple of the Three Windows. lt borders the eastem side of the Sacred Plaza.

 

its northern end (Figures 1.1 O, 2.11, and 3.15). The massifof Salcanray lies to the south, its highest summit being atan azimuth of precisely 180º. Salcantay is not visible from the lntihuatana, but it is visible from the summits ofHuayna Picchu and Machu Picchu peak (see Figure 2.20). The lnrihuatana was, therefore, ata central point from which sacred mountains were in alignment with the cardinal directions and where significant celestial activity took place (see appendix).

The lnrihuatana is also well situated for other astronomical observations. The setting sun at the equinoxes occurs behind the highest summit of Cerro San Miguel (272º) (Figures 3.15 and 3.16). The sun can be seen to rise from behind Cerro San Gabriel at the June solstice at 61 º (Figure 3.13)170 and to set behind the San Miguel ridge at 29T. (As a result of the higher elevation on the horizon of the nearest peaks, there is a slight deviation from those azimuths taken when the sunrises and sunsets are viewed across an open, horizontal plane.) The sun at the December solstice rises out of the Urubamba River valley at 112º (Figure 3.13). The Southern Cross would have been seen to move around Machu Picchu Mountain.171 Thus the location of the Imihuatana on a high point of a ridge gave it an exceptional place from which to make astronomical observations in conjunction with sacred geographical features, helping make Machu Picchu a center of special supernatural power.

The shape of the Intihuatana resembles that of a mountain. This is particularly striking when one juxtaposes it with Huayna Picchu. The shadows cast on the Imihuatana also are replicated by those on Huayna Picchu (Figure 3. 14). Even the base of the vertical stone appears to imitare the shape of the lower part of Huayna Picchu. This alignment occurs when one enters rhe summit compound by its main entrance and ascends the left-hand steps to the Intihuatana and looks toward ir. There is only one orher set of steps thar lead to the Imihuatana from the temple area below. These are wider and just to the right of the first set; perhaps they were meant to be used by people not taking part in the worship performed at rhe boulder to the left. Carved into the boulder next to where rhe steps end is a V-shaped depression «pointing» south, which, given its location, was likely used as a place for offerings.

A similar rock carving is found on the summit of Huayna Picchu. Ir «points» due south in the direction of the Imihuatana and Salcamay (Figure 2.20). The placement of one set of steps and the V-shaped depression would appear intentional, establishing a place for someone to view the Intihuatana in alignment with Huayna Picchu. This would indicare rhat rhe Imihuatana was carved to replicare the mountain.

Interestingly, if a person stands on the opposite side of the Intihuatana and looks sourh, its shape seems to replicare that ofMachu Picchu Mountain and its northern slope (Figure 3.17). If this was intencional on the part of the Incas, the Intihuatana would be simultaneously duplicating the shapes of the two sacred mountains closest to Machu Picchu. This would provide an unusual example in worked stone of the kind of reflexivity rhat has been noted for sorne Inca si tes and structures located elsewhere, including near Machu Picchu, as we will see.

As far as the Intihuatana having been used as a kind of solar observatory, it quite possibly was, bur in a different way from thar postulated by the sundial theory. Traditional peoples in the Cuzco region still use the movements of shadows across the mountains to tell time, and in the past they observed shadows on vertical stones for the same purpose.!» Thus observations could have been made of the sun’s movements across rhe Imihuatana (which replicated a sacred mountain) while those movements were also being made on the mountain itself (i.e., Huayna Picchu). This would be different from simply observing the shadow cast on a fiar surface by rhe column of a sundial in order to tell time and would be a more powerful melding of natural symbols as well.

Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 3 9 A vievv to the west from 1n front of the Temple sorornn of F’umas1llo The F’nnc1pal .remple 1s on the nght
Machu Picchu

The evidence points to Rowe’s having been correct when he stated that the Intihuatana may have symbolized the «place spirit» of the mountain on which it stands.173 I mentioned earlier that the Incas worshipped a stone having the shape of the sacred mountain Huanacauri, and rhis is just one of severa! examples of the Incas having undertaken the kind of replication noted here (see Guchte 1990). (10) Additional support for this hypothesis comes from a drawing done in 1613 of sacred objects and idols. In it the Inca Topa is portrayed as questioning sorne idols that have rhe shape of the Intihuatana (Figure 3.18).174 He is asking which one was responsible for causing bad weather, a role often attributed to mountain deities. Certainly if Machu Picchu was built with a primary factor being its situation relative to sacred geographical features, rhen it would be logical for one of its outstanding landmarks, a prominent carved stone, to serve as the symbolic representation of a sacred mountain.

 

Figure 3.10. The aribalo (arybalo) was mainly used to hold liquids, and it was common among the pottery found by Bingham at Machu Picchu. lts form is distinctive to the Incas. (This example from the Inca site on Mount Llullaillaco was recovered with its original rope in place.)
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.11. Skulls of ancestors were still being worshipped along the Inca Trail in Huayllabamba during the 1980s.

THE SACRED ROCK

There is another boulder rhat sorne investigators believe replicates the shape of a mountain, 17; a particularly prominent boulder found at the north end of the site. It has come to be called the Sacred Rock by sorne authors, although there are, of course, many other sacred rocks at Machu Picchu. lhis one has been singled out because of its large size, its demarcation by a stone platform on one side of an open square, its similarity in shape to the contours of one of the mountains in rhe background, and its location between two stone buildings with the third side open.

The main entry to the Sacred Rock complex via this open third side does seem to indicate that the stone was meant to be viewed with the mountains in the background. An exact fit with any one of these mountains is difficult, however, to discern, the mountain Yanantin coming closest (Figure 3.19).

The anthropologist Roben Randall noted that if a person turned to look out the one open side of the Sacred Rock cornplex, he or she would be facing Pumasillo, which does indeed replicare the shape of rhe Sacred Rock.176 We may also have another example of reflexivity involving sacred mountains on opposite sides of a carved boulder, as noted above. Although it is not firmly established whether rhe Sacred Rock was worshipped as representing a mountain, given the above and my interpretation of Machu Picchu as a whole, this explanation seems reasonable.

Machu Picchu

 

THE SUN TEMPLE (TORREÓN)

Additional stones clearly meant for ritual use are the large stones into which platforms or alrars have been carved. One of rhe best-known examples of this is a carved boulder found inside rhe structure named rhe Semicircular Temple by Bingham and now commonly called rhe Temple of the Sun or the Torreón
Figure 3.13. Looking east from the lntihuatana, which is in the foreground. The left arrow marks the rising point of the sun at the June solstice, the center one the rising point of the sun at the equinoxes, and the right one the rising point of the sun at the Oecember solstice (above the Urubamba River gorge).

Machu Picchu
74
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.14. The lntihuatana stone appears to replicate the shape of, and the play of shadows on, Huayna Picchu in the background. Even the base of the stone appears to be carved to represen\ in an abstrae\ manner the shape of the mountain.

Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu
Figure 3.15. A view to the west from the lntihuatana. The arrow on the left points to the summit of Pumasillo behind which the sun sets at the December solstice. The arrow on the right indicates the point (on the summit of Cerro San Miguel) where the sun sets at the equinoxes.

 

(see Figures 3.20 and 3.21).177 The walls built around che carved boulder contain sorne of che finest Inca stonework known, and che rare, elliptical form of che structure recalls that of che Temple of che Sun (Coricancha) in Cuzco (Figure 3.22).

The top of che boulder inside che Temple of che Sun apparently was utilized as an altar. By use of a carving in its surface, it may also have served as an aid in making observations of che June solstice (Figure 3.23).178 Since che position where che Pleiades rise is close to that of che sun ar che June solstice, 179 a window orientated to one included che other, The Pleiades were (and still are) closely associated with crop fertíliry and che forecasting of weather.l'» (11) The Pleiades are due north when they reach their highest point in che sky, and chus they will also be above Huayna Picchu. This juxtaposition thereby presents a parallel to che Southern Cross and Salcantay to che south,

When the sun shines through che window onto che carving of che rock at che June solstice, it also appears from behind che top of che peak called, by sorne locals, San Gabriel.181 Although it is one of che lower mountains of che Veronica range, it is nonetheless notable as seen from Machu Picchu. Ir would seem that in rhis case rhere is a direct link between astronomical observations and mountains, where the celestial body (and the place from which it was observed-in this case a carved boulder) gains in importance because of its association with a prominent peak on the horizon. We have already seen the importance of the Veronica range in beliefs relating to weather and fertility.

Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.17. A view south to the lntihuatana with Machu Picchu Mountain in the background. Here, too, it appears to replicate the shape of, and the play of shadows on, a mountain in the background. Just behind the lntihuatana are two sets of steps that worshippers used to reach the sacred stone.

Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu
Figure 3.18. An Inca is depicted worshipping ata carved stone that resembles the lntihuatana at Machu Picchu (from Guarnan Poma 1980 [1613]).
80
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.19. Called by sorne the Sacred Rock, this boulder was especially demarcated by a stone wall at its base. lt may have been set off in order to replicate the shape of the mountain Yanantin (directly behind ít) in the background (San Gabriel is on the right). The boulder is more similar, however, to Pumasillo, visible in the opposite direction, which is the only open side of the complex.

 

The large boulder inside rhe Temple of rhe Sun also forms rhe top of a cave, and this would probably have added to the building’s sacredness (Figure 3.24). lhe cave contains beautifully carved stones and niches, which led Bingham to believe it was used as a royal mausoleum (see Figure 3.25).182 From the cave’s entrance one can look out toward San Gabriel and surrounding mountains. At the entrance is a boulder carved in a stepped pattern rhat sorne authors believe was commonly used to symbolize a mountain, 183 an interpretation that would also be in accord with that of the Temple of the Sun above. lhere is other evidence pertaining to beliefs about caves in Inca thought to support che hypothesis that rhe cave was associated with mountain worship, which I will examine below.

TEMPLE OF THE MOON
The Temple of che Moon is actually a cave situated sorne 390 mi 1,280 feet below che summit of Huayna Picchu on its steep northern side. Ir contains sorne very fine Inca stonework (Figure 3.26). Apparently che cave was given its name by people in modern times who observed that during che night of a full moon che cave’s interior became illuminated.184 It is probably of greater importance that it looks out at che equinox setting point of che sun on che ridge of Cerro San Miguel, which coincides with che place on che horizon where che sun sets on che June solstice as seen from che Intihuatana.

Since not all caves received such special treatment, we should examine what elements could have played a role in che high status bestowed on chis one. It is possible rhat water, fairly scarce in chis area, carne out of a spring near che cave or even from inside it.185 The location of che cave high on che sacred mountain of Huayna Picchu could also have been a factor.

When we examine beliefs about caves in che Andes, there are shared features chat could help explain che special attention paid to chis one. Historical sources note thar caves were often perceived as che entrances into che mountains from which che fi.rst ancestors carne, and frequently bodies of dead ancestors were kept in caves. Such beliefs and practices were in many cases linked to che concept that peo ple carne out from che mountains chrough caves and that che souls themselves return to reside there.

Caves are seen as che entrances into che mountains where che mountain gods reside in man y pares of Peru.186 This belief was noted in che Inca period, 187 and it still exists in che area of Cuzco today. 188 Similar beliefs are held as far afi.eld as Bolivia and Chile.189 Caves could also be seen as entrances into che mountains thar animals, believed to belong to che mountain gods, could use as well. In addition, caves were places for leaving offerings to che mountain deities. 190

Archaeologists have made recent discoveries below che Temple of che Moon thar appear to support che interpretation that it was related to mountain worship. They found a structure rhat had two small holes in two niches. The only thing visible when looking through che holes was a prominent mountain across che river called Yanantin. 191 The archaeologists believe that che holes were made as pare of practices done in worship of chis sacred mountain. Yanantin is che same mountain that may have been replicated by che Sacred Rock.

Taken as a whole, che evidence points to che Temple of che Moon having become important, at least in pare, as a resulr of its association with mountain worship. Perhaps its opening out, albeit only in a general way, toward che setting sun at che equinoxes (which in turn occur at che same place where che June solstice sets as seen from che Intihuatana) added to its sacredness.

Machu Picchu
Figure 3.20. View to the Sun Temple (Torreón) with the lntihuatana hill behind
83
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.21. The Sun Temple is one of the best-constructed structures at Machu Picchu. The boulder inside it may have been carved partly to serve as an altar and also to observe the rise of the sun and the Pleiades at the June solstice through a window orientated in that direction.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.22. The elliptical wall of the Temple of the Sun (Coricancha) in Cuzco is one of the most astonishing examples of Inca stonework. The Dominican Church was constructed over the temple’s remains.
INTIMACHAY ANO THE CONDOR STONE
Intimachay is a small cave that also has sorne fine Inca stonework indicating that it was of special significance to the Incas, It is located on the eastern side of Machu Picchu, just below what has been named the «Industrial Quarter» on sorne plans of the site. A convincing case has been made rhat it was builr primarily as a place to observe the December solstice sunrise. 192 As seen from Machu Picchu, on the December solstice the sun does not rise behind any noteworthy feature of rhe horizon. Below the immediate horizon, however, the sun does rise from the narrow gorge carved by the sacred Vilcanota River, which we have seen is linked with Ausangate (from behind which the December solstice rises), the Milky Way, the sun’s passage, and water/fertiliry beliefs in general.

There is a unique stone carving located close to rhe Inrimachay cave thar has commonly been thought to represent a condor because of similarities between it anda condor’s head (Figure 3.27). Bearing in mind that this identification is by no means certain, ir might be recalled that we have already seen how condors are believed over much of the Andes to represent-or manifest-the mountain deities, including Salcantay.

TERRACES, IRRIGATION, ANO FOUNTAINS

Machu Picchu is renowned for its terraces. It has been shown that terracing helps prevent erosion, increases the amount of leve! ground, and softens the effects of climatic variation.193 This means that agricultura! production is increased, especially as terraces are often irrigated, and thus the growing time is shortened.

The crop most likely cultivated at Machu Picchu was probably maize, with perhaps sorne potatoes.194 Maize played an important role in religious ceremonies, and, given Machu Picchu’s importance as a religious center, any grown at the site would have likely been viewed as especially sacred.

Mountain deities were (and still are) closely linked with cultivation terraces and irrigation systems, 195 and rhis was also rhe case in the Cuzco region.196 This is understandable given their role in providing water and controlling the hydrological cycle, 197 the use made of their slopes, 198 and their perceived role in causing landslides and earthquakes.199 It is, therefore, diflicult to imagine the Incas not making offerings to the mountain on which rhey constructed terraces.

Figure 3.23. The rock inside the Sun Temple at Machu Picchu was carved to indicate the rise of the June solstice through the window opposite.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 3.25. The cave under the boulder of the Sun Temple was called the Royal Mausoleum by Bingham (although no funerary items were found), and the fine stonework inside jt indicates that it.!:,ad a ceremonial Machu Picchu
Figure 3.26. The so-called Temple of the Moon is a cave on the slopes of Huayna Picchu, which contains examples of sorne of fine Inca stonework.
Reinhard.indb 90
Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu

Bingham noted the scarcity of water at Machu Picchu and even suggested that this lack may have been a reason for the abandonment of the site.200 A recent hydrological study established, however, rhat rhe Incas did not abandon Machu Picchu because of water shortage.i'» We have seen how the water would have been considered sacred (Figures 3.28 and 3.29). A large number of well-built fountains is not common in Inca sites, and the ones at Machu Picchu probably were utilized in good part for ritual bathing and ablutions. This underscores the role that water played in the sacred nature of the site.

The extensive terracing and dominant position of Machu Picchu on a steep mountainside have led sorne people to point to what they believe is the excellent defensive nature ofMachu Picchu (see Figure 3.30) .202 Although Machu Picchu certainly is situated in an impressive location, there is no evidence that there was a serious threat from the jungle area, and recent analysis ofbones found little cranial trauma, which suggests rhat the site did not experience attacks.i'» On one hand this evidence is consistent with the general picture we have of Machu Picchu’s location being within a system of pilgrimage sites rather than ones of a defensive nature. On the other hand, as we will see, the Incas may have conquered the area, especially around Vitcos, west ofMachu Picchu, at least in part to use as a base to attack their traditional enemies, the Chancas, in the hills to the west.i'»

Nonetheless, Machu Picchu seems to have been constructed primarily for religious reasons.i'» Scholars have noted that rhe walls and enclosures only hindered access rather than provided a solid system of defense. In sorne cases structures thought to have been defensive may have been built for other purposes (e.g., the moat likely was used to collect water runoff rather than to provide a defensive barrier). The outer walls seem to have been intended more for enclosing a religious site than for defense per se.206 The idea that Machu Picchu was chosen for defensive reasons seems even less probable when we see rhat orher important Inca centers in the area were not of a defensive nature. 207

Machu Picchu
Figure 3.27. In the lower part of the photo is the so-called Condor Stone. The ruins above it are part of what Bingham called the Unusual Niches group.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
– ..
Figure 3.30. The construction of terraces on steep hillsides is one of the impressive aspects of Machu Picchu. View to the east from Cerro San Miguel.
Reinhard.indb 96
Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu

 

Chapter Four
Further Sites in the Region

 

Figure 4.1. Phuyupatamarka is at the origin of a river that joins the Urubamba River below and clearly was an importan! ceremonial site on the way to Machu Picchu.

Machu Picchu

If the construction of Machu Picchu was related to a significant degree to sacred landscape, it would seem likely that orher sites associated with it would play supponive roles. They, too, might have features rhar could be better understood using our knowledge of sacred geography in the area. A discussion of these si tes, sorne of which are quite irnportant in their own right, will in turn enable us to see Machu Picchu within che broader context of which it was a pan (see Figures 1.1 O and 1.12).

 

PHUYUPATAMARKA

Phuyupatamarka is situated just below che crest of a ridge at approximately 3,550 mi 11,647 feet elevation, ca. 6 km southeast of Machu Picchu. One of the most importanr si tes along the famed Inca Trail (see Figure 1.12), it consists of structures that clearly formed pan of a ceremonial complex (Figures 4.1 and 4.2).2º8 Severa! «baths,» probably used for ritual purposes, descend from a source that carries water originating from a spring in the mountainside.

About 100 m/328 feet above the main cornplex, on a high point of the ridge, is a platform with a retaining wall following che shape of che terrain. Toe platform affords excellent views of che major snowcapped peaks, including Salcantay to che south, numerous snow peaks (e.g., Pumasillo) to che west, and Veronica (Waqaywillka) to the east by northeast (see Figures 4.1, 4.3, and 4.4). Machu Picchu peak líes below to the north,

Figure 4.2. A plan of the ruins at Phuyupatamarka (from Maclean 1986).

Although the surnrnit platforrn could have served as a signa! station, as suggested by sorne authors (e.g., the anthropologist Paul Fejos),209 I believe its rnain function was as a place frorn which to worship the surrounding rnountains. If the cornrnon custorn at such sites was followed, then sorne of the ritual offerings would have been buried. This would explain why there was so rnuch digging done there, and not apparently elsewhere, by treasure hunters. Of course, the place itself would have been sacred, this particular site doubtless having been chosen because of the water source, as rhe archaeologist Margaret MacLean has surmised.i!»

Water sources, especially those that led to irnportant irrigation works, were usually considered sacred by the Incas. This source was likely perceived to have been related to Salcantay, being located on a ridge extending down frorn the rnountain. Such beliefs are cornrnon throughout the Andes, as noted earlier. This connection with Salcantay would have increased the sacredness of the source of water and the surnrnit platforrn associated with it.

 

Machu Picchu

 

FURTHER SITES IN THE REGION

 

The fact that no large structure exists on the summit should not lead one to assume that the hilltop itself was of minor importance. We know that most of the ritual sites on mountain summits were not impressive, whereas the mountains themselves were among the most important deities in Inca religion, and large cornplexes connected to their worship were frequently built on their slopes below.211

In summary, Phuyupatamarka was likely a pilgrimage site along rhe Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. lhe Inca sites along this road indicare it was a very sacred place because it was associated with an important water source and because it was a place where pilgrims could worship in view of the most sacred mountains of the region. Such worship would most likely have been for the usual reasons: fertilíty of crops and animals, protection of the people, success in trade, and so forth. lhis hypothesis helps explain rhe function of other aspects of rhe site as well, such as the ritual baths,
Figure 4.3. The arrow points to Pumasillo in the distance. A lone individual stands on the artificial platlorm above Phuyupatamarka.
Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu

 

WIÑAYWAYNA

 

The site of Wiñay Wayna (Huiñay Huayna) is situated down the slope from Phuyupatamarka and a couple of hours’ walk sourheast of Machu Picchu. It lies at an elevation of about 2,680 m/8,793 feet and is the last major complex of ruins on the Inca Trail befo re reaching Machu Picchu (see Figures 1.1 O, 1.12, and 4.5). Ir basically consists of two groups of structures, an upper anda lower, with a series of baths or fountains separating them, and sorne fine terracing (Figure 4.6).212 lts religious character is indicated by its having nineteen fountains-more than any other Inca site.213 Wiñay Wayna is near a waterfall that originates at Phuyupatamarka above (Figure 4.7), and the sites are linked by a superb section of Inca road. lhus it seems probable thar, aside from assisting in food production (and possibly coca growing), Wiñay Wayna was built as a ritual stopping place along the pilgrimage road to Machu Picchu-with the sacred water as an important aspect of rhe site’s function.214
Figure 4.5. View over ruins at Wiñay Wayna with Veronica in the background.
Machu Picchu

Figure 4.6. A plan of the ruins at Wiñay Wayna (from Maclean 1986).

 

CHOOUESUYSUY, SAYACMARCA, RUNCU RACCAY, ANO PIQUILLAKTA

 

Choquesuysuy, Sayacmarca (Sayacmarka), and Runcu Raccay illusrrate che ritual importance of water (and in one case a hilltop) in complexes found on che same ridge (in che broadest sense) leading down from Salcancay. There are severa! other sites in chis area, sorne of which have sacred elements (e.g., carved boulders), bue they seem to have been more in che nature of support sites for Machu Picchu.215

Choquesuysuy lies just below a waterfall near a stream where it meets che Urubamba Rivera few kilometers upriver from Machu Picchu. This stream originares in che spring at Phuyupatamarka. A waterfall exists just above che site. As we would expect in view of what we have seen, Choquesuysuy has a sacred character, with fountains that likely played a role in che rituals performed there.216
104 Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu

Sayacmarca and Runcu Raccay lie along che sacred road to Machu Picchu (Figures 1.10, 1.12, and 4.8), and they appear to have functioned in pare as lodges and control points over roads.217 They both, however, overlook the sources of rivers. In che case of Sayacmarca there is also a prominent, carved boulder at che site (see Figures 4.9 and 4.1 O). The main building of Runcu Raccay is formed by concentric circles of walls, which may be symbolic of a water cult-such circles being commonly interpreted elsewhere in the Andes in chis way (Figures 4.11 and 4.12 ).218 In what may be a reflection of a prehispanic custom, during the severe drought of 1988 men climbed up to the lake above the waterfall near Runcu Raccay and threw rocks into it to wake up che mythological being residing there in arder for it to cause rain.219 This was a practice at other sacred lakes during the Inca period.F»

The popular hiking trail to Machu Picchu has as its tradicional starting point the site of Pattallacta (also known as Llaktapata on sorne maps), an important site on rhe bank of che Urubamba River (Figure 4.13). The site likely supplied Machu Picchu with agricultura! produces grown in che area. Ir also has an important ceremonial sector, however, with arare, elliptical wall surrounding a boulder situated directly above the Cusichaka (Kusichaca) River (Figure 4.14) close to its confluence with the Urubamba River (see Figure 4.15). Having examined ruins along the Inca Trail, 1 will now take a brieflook at other sites near Machu Picchu that also appear to have played supportive and/or religious roles.

 

Figure 4.8. Trekkers follow the Inca Trail as it passes by lakes between Sayacmarca and Runcu Raccay.

Machu Picchu

20m. Machu Picchu
Figure 4.9. A plan of the ruins at Sayacmarca (Sayacmarka).

 

CERRO SAN MIGUEL

 

Across the Urubamba River from Machu Picchu to the west is a mountain called Cerro San Miguel (also Vizcachani) (ca. 2,924 m/9,593 feet) (see Figures 1.1 O and 3.15). In 1989 Fernando Astete and 1, along with other archaeologists from the National lnstitute of Culture, investigated an artificially formed circular platform on the mountain’s summit. The platform is 25 m in diameter and has an upright stone in the center (Figure 4.16). Ali the principal sacred mountains of the region can be seen from this spot. The summit of San Miguel lies due west of
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu

Figure 4.11. A plan of the principal structure Runcu Raccay (from Maclean 1986).
Figure 4.12. The main structure at Runcu Raccay.

 

Machu Picchu
Figure 4.13. An aerial view of Pattallacta, the site from which the Inca Trail traditionally begins

4 Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
FURTHER SITES IN THE REGION

Machu Picchu
Figure 4.14. The Pattallacta ceremonial complex has an elliptical wall, unusual for the Incas, which surrounds a boulder.

Machu Picchu. As viewed from the central stone, the Intihuatana is at 92 º and the highest summit ofVeronica at 91 º; thus rhese two ritually significant landmarks are on the equinox line and in alignment with each other to one degree.

Parts of a well-constructed Inca road were also seen leading to the platform from the east side of the mountain up steep cliffs and through jungle, and this emphasizes the site’s importance for the Incas. Farther along the San Miguel ridge to the north we saw small structures that are located at rhe point the June solstice would set (29T) as seen from the lmihuatana.221 There seems little doubt that the platform with its central stone was constructed as a marker of the equinox, as a place to worship this combination of a mountaintop and sacred alignment, and, at least in part, for worship of the sacred geographical features on the horizon. lt might be added thar the mountain San Miguel is also surrounded, like Huayna Picchu, on three sides by the Urubamba River.
112
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 4.16. An elongated stone was found in the center of a circular platform on Cerro San Miguel’s summit lying due west (the equinox line) from Machu Picchu Salcantay is to the left in the background and the Ouishuar range to the right.

 

LLAKTAPATA AND PALCAY

 

Bingham located the ruins of Llaktapata (ca. 2,760 m/9,055 feet) on a ridge berween the Aobamba and Santa Teresa Rivers southwesr of Machu Picchu.222 In previous editions of this book I noted that Iittle was known about Llaktapata (Llactapata) and that it did not seem to have had any particular ceremonial tunetion. (12) Scholars thought that it was likely to have been a control point and clearing house for goods. Given its location, however, in a setting similar to Machu Picchu’s, I thought that further research needed to be undertaken to determine its possible function.

This research was provided by McKim Malville, Hugh Thomson, and Gary Ziegler, who investigated Llaktapata in 2003. They surveyed more than 80 structures, divided into tive sectors. While documenting the orientations of the structures, they discovered striking parallels with my findings at Machu Picchu and also similarities in orientation, design, and scale ofbuildings in Sector 1 with the Temple of the Sun ( Coricancha) in Cuzco. For example, a structure they designated as the «Sun Temple» had the outward extension of its corridors align with sunrise over Machu Picchu at the June solstice. Among other alignments, they noted that the sight line between the Priest’s House at Machu Picchu (open to the December solstice sunset and Pumasillo) and the Llaktapata Sun Temple function in díametrically opposite directions for both solstices and mountains (see Figure 4.17). A large, artificially raised platform (usnu or ushnu) aligns with the December solstice sunrise. They located small platforms on crags that lie direcdy on the equinox line as it crosses the summit ofCerro San Miguel (with its Intihuatana-like stone), and thus the line extends on via Machu Picchu’s Intihuatana and Mount Veronica. They noted other solstice and mountain alignments and also that severa! structures and a central plaza were aligned with the cardinal directions.

 

Figure 4.17. A plan showing the alignments of Llaktapata with Machu Picchu (from Malville. Thomson, and Ziegler 2004).
Machu Picchu

Their findings suggest an intent to achieve mutually interactive sight lines, and they observe, «Solstice-equinox orientation in relationship with alignments on Huayna Picchu and Mount Machu Picchu indicares that adoration and ritual focus on these special mountains and the sun may have been the primary purpose at Llaktapata.» They conclude: «The sightlines, shrines, and buildings of Machu Picchu and Llaktapata appear to establish an extended ritual neighborhood of Machu Picchu, containing geographical, astronomical, and cosmological meaning» (see Figure 4.17).223

In 1985 I located a section oflnca road that ran up from the Llaktapata ruins along the eastern side of the ridge. (13) The ridge extends from Salcantay via the peak called Tucarhuay and parallels the one on which Machu Picchu líes (see Figures 1.10 and 4.18). The two ridges are separated by the Aobamba River, but they are connected vía a series of trails. Bingham followed a trail on the western side of the Llaktapata ridge before it descended to the Palcay ruins, at the headwaters of the Aobamba River. This caused him to miss rhe eastern trail and sites that I located higher along the ridge.

We found an interesting group of structures on a knoll at 3,567 m (11,703 feet) at the edge of the tree line. The Incas had constructed two well-built structures enclosed by a low wall that curves around one end. Next to it is a boulder with carved steps (Figures 4.19 and 4.20). 224 The site’s architecture and location

 

Figure 4.18. A campsite near the pass east of Salcantay on the trail to Palcay.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu

easunng the he,ght o 3,507′. m (11 506 feet)

Machu Picchu

~
Figure 4.20. A plan of the site located at 3,567 m (11,703 feet) on the ridge above Llaktapata (from Reinhard 1990b).
Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu
Figure 4.21. Men at lower right follow an Inca trail as it ascends diagonally through a cliff above the site in Figure 4.20.
suggesc that ir primarily served a ceremonial function. The trail concinued on, part!y cut through rhe side of a cliff, connecting Llaktapata wirh Palcay (Figures 4.21 and 4.22).

The Inca site at Palcay (ca. 3,340 m/10,958 feet) was probably important, at least in part, for economic and strategic reasons.225 lt is situated at the junction of crails that link Machu Picchu with important Inca sites: Tarawasi to the souch and Llaktapata and che Sanca Teresa River (and evencually che sices of the Vilcabamba region) to rhe west (Figures 1.10 and 4.23). The site, however, may have hada religious role as well. It is located below a waterfall at rhe confluence of rivers originating in the glaciers of the sacred mountains Salcantay and Tucarhuay (Figure 4.24). Two of the four rooms are well built, but the others were not completed before the site was abandoned. There is, however, a clear division into what would have been four idencical rooms aligned precisely wirh the cardinal directions (Figure 4.25).226 lts association with Salcancay anda river flowing north from it may not be coincidencal, especially in view of the orientations and locations of other sites in the region, as we have seen.

The archaeological complexes located within the region ali appear to either have played roles of support or to have had ceremonial functions that complemented Machu Picchu. Together they formed an elaborate pilgrimage system, with Machu Picchu as its center.227 Ali of the sites show in their construction and placement a great concern with adaptation to the natural landscape. In sorne important cases they demonstrate a clase association with sacred geographical features, which in turn are aligned with astronomical events of special significance to the Incas. Although more research is needed, the evidence from this examination of the oudying sites suggests that the Incas were intent on accomplishing a feat that demonstrates an extraordinary vision-the physical integration of a wide variety of sites, with their cosmology writ large over a vast, sacred landscape.

 

Figure 4.22. Part of the trail shown in Figure 4.21 was carved through solid rock.
Machu Picchu
Figure 4.23. An Inca trail cuts horizontally across a sheer cliff on the side of Machu Picchu Mountain. lt linl<ed the site of Machu Picchu with Palcay and l.laktapata.
Machu Picchu

 

 

Figure 4.24. The upper region of the Aobamba River where the ruins of Palcay are located.
Figure 4.25. A plan of an unfinished Inca complex at Palcay (adapted from Bingham 1913).

Chapter Five
The Builders of Machu Picchu

The idenrlfication of those primarily responsible for the construction of Machu Picchu could offer clues to its purpose. Sorne writers have speculated that parts of the site had been constructed a couple of hundred years before the Spanish conquest+» Given that the region was inhabited to sorne degree prior to the Incas,229 it would not be surprising to find sorne evidence of pre-Inca use of the ridge at Machu Picchu. 230 Based on a study of the architecture and archaeological remains, however, the site visible today has been thought by the majority oflnca scholars to date to the time of rhe expansion of the Inca Empire during the reigns of Pachacuti and Topa Inca, during the second half of the fifteenth century.231
Figure 5.1. A man representing the emperor Pachacuti is carried at the festival of lnti Raymi in Cuzco. Machu Picchu
In 1987 che archaeologist John Rowe discussed a sixteenth-century document that indicares that Machu Picchu was an estate of Pachacuti Inca Yupanqui.232 Pachacuti has been credited wirh the inicial expansion of the Inca Empire outside of che Cuzco valley and into the Vilcabamba region, where he established a center at Vitcos in che rnid- l 400s (Figures 1.1 O and 5.1). 233

Of interese from che perspective of sacred geography is that Pachacuti was likely responsible for che construction, or at least improvement, of a number of sites associated with mountain worship (e.g., on Pachatusan, Walla Walla, and Huanacauri), as well as numerous ceremonial complexes where worship of sacred geographical features took place. He is also che emperor who reportedly had Cuzco rebuilt to better reflect political-religious-economic concepts and ensured its establishment as a sacred center in che Andean world.t»‘

Among the many projects Pachacuti is credited with undertaking is che elaboration of the ceque system, a series of imaginary fines radiating out from the Temple of the Sun in Cuzco, which had more than 330 huacas (sacred places or objects) situated along thern (Figure 5.2).235 The anthropologist David Gow found that stones, mountains, and water sources made up 68 percent of these huacas.236 The ceques were thernselves closely tied to che distribution of water in
Figure 5.2. A diagram of the ceque (imaginary line) system at Cuzco (from Bauer 1998).
~
«1 Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure 5.3. The ruins of Pisac, a royal estate of the emperor Pachacuti, who abandoned it and went on to build Machu Picchu
the Cuzco valley.237 This concern with the sacred geographical environment continued with Pachacuti’s son, Topa Inca, during whose reign (ca. AD 1463-1493) hundreds of ceremonial sites were constructed on mountain summits throughout the Andes.238

According to Rowe, Pachacuti undertook the conquest of Vilcabamba in order to use itas a base for attacking his enemies, the Chancas.239 He may have established Machu Picchu as a memorial to his conquest. The archaeologist Ann Kendall believes that Pachacuti might have intended it to be a ceremonial center to replace the important site of Pisac (northeast of Cuzco), which he had built and later abandoned (Figure 5.3).240

During Pachacuti’s Vilcabamba campaign Machu Picchu could have been of more strategic importance.241 Cobo wrote ofhow the native people ofVilcabamba were impressed by constructions undertaken by the Incas and how this was a reason rhey eventually submitted to them.242 Surely the construction of sites and roads throughout the rugged region would have served to demonstrate Inca dominance to the local inhabitants.
124
THE BUILDERS OF MACHU PICCHU
lhe emphasis on religion would also have been linked to such dominance, since the deities would have controlled the economy and protected the people of the region. When the Amaybamba Valley was later conquered, it became the preferred route into Vilcabamba and the road that passed near Machu Picchu fell into disuse.243 After the Incas rose up against rhe Spaniards but were defeated at Cuzco, they retreated and established their capital at Vitcos (Figure 5.4).

As we have seen, mountain worship was closely linked with weather control, and mountain deities were often protector deities of regions they dominated. In this regard it is interesting that Pachacuti chose as his guardian «brother» deity Illapa, the weather god. He took a statue ofillapa with him to war.244 lhe association of weather gods (often mountain deities) and war was widespread at rhar time in the Andes245 and still is today.246 Illapa was probably utilized by the state to incorporare the regional weather gods under one generalized deity.247

In any event Pachacuti’s selection ofillapa as his «brother» deity demonstrates his concern with having a close relationship wirh a weather/war god. An important religious center such as Machu Picchu, constructed in good part for worship of

 

Figure 5.4. The Spanish destroyed much of the Inca capital of Vitcos, and only a few entranceways remained intact.
Machu Picchu

mountain, weather, and protector deities in a region he had conquered, would accord with Inca beliefs in general and with Pachacuti’s actions in particular.

John Rowe noted that if Machu Picchu was one of Pachacuti’s estates, it fell outside che administrative system of the Inca Empire.248 Instead, it carne under che jurisdiction of che group (panaca) composed ofhis direct descendants except for his successor, rhe next Inca emperor.249 Machu Picchu is unusual among the estates of emperors, however, in that it has an elaborare series of sites with important ritual components builr on along a defined pilgrimage route, now known as the Inca Trail.

Recent studies undertaken with che Bingham collection at Yale have added support to the idea ofMachu Picchu having been an estate, uncovering evidence of a diverse population with a variety of goods brought in from great distances. Scholars disagree, however, about whether Machu Picchu could be considered an actual «estate.» Pare of the problem may lie in the difficulty of having an Inca concept agree with its English (or Spanish) gloss. There appears to have been considerable variety among che different «estates» associated with even a single Inca emperor. For example, Pachacuti built estates at Pisac and Ollantaytambo that differ from Machu Picchu, not least in che latter being pare of an elaborare system of connected sites (e.g., Phuyupatamarka, Sayacmarca, Wiñay Wayna). Rather than each one of these Inca Trail sites being a separare «estate,» they were deliberately constructed in relation to Machu Picchu and should be viewed as pares of a whole. There are other differences as well. Unlike Machu Picchu, for example, most estates do not have large plazas. In any event the pilgrimage aspect of Machu Picchu makes it clear that if it is to be called an «estate,» it differed significantly from others known to historians. (14)

If Machu Picchu was maintained in the same way as other estates, its abandonment could have been due in part to che panaca having found it difficult to continue the maintenance of the sites. This would have especially been the case once che civil war began between the brothers Atahualpa and Huascar, which followed che death of che emperor Huayna Capac sometime around 1527.

In the original study of the skeletons found in burials at Machu Picchu, a high percentage of female skeletons (approximately 4: 1, females to males) was reported.P» This led Hiram Bingham to conclude that it had been a home for che Virgins of the Sun. The maintenance of an isolated estate, however, along with departure of men for che war between Atahualpa and Huascar (and later bardes with the Spaniards), could have explained such a high female-to-male ratio, assurning that it existed. In addition, there had long been sorne doubt that the gender of che bones had been correctly identified, and recently it has been established thar the supposed gender imbalance was actually about 1.54: 1 (females to males).251

 

THE BUILDERS OF MACHU PICCHU

 

 

 

Bingham’s hypothesis rhat Machu Picchu was a home for the Virgins of the Sun was further weakened by the meagerness of the artifacrs found in the burials. 252 One would expect more elaborate burials in the cases of high-status females.

Bingham’s hypothesis had also been influenced by his identification of Machu Picchu as Vilcabamba the Old, the last capital of the Incas.253 This opinion is no longer shared by the vast majority of scholars, who instead have identified Vilcabamba the Old at rhe place now called Espíritu Pampa, located deeper in the jungle (Figure 5.5).254

Other si tes in rhe region of Machu Picchu formed parts of a system of roads and buildings that linked Cuzco with Vilcabamba, and these were also abandoned at the same time. Therefore, it appears likely that this was part of a deliberate policy to leave the area unpopulated and isolated.255 This remote region would have served as a rugged buffer zone to prevent Spanish incursions into the area, which a document of 1562 clearly indicates.256 According to this document, Tupac Amaru and his brother Titu Cusi reportedly «pillaged and burned ali the Indian houses of the repartimientos [land divisions] of Amaybamba and Picchu.» This would help explain the mystery of why Machu Picchu was abandoned and why it remained relatively intact (minus objects of real value to the Incas) and undiscovered for such a long time. (15)

 

Figure 5.5. A reconstruction of what the Incas’ last capital of Vilcabamba (Espíritu Pampa) would have looked like at the time of Inca occupation (from Lee 2000).

Machu Picchu

 

Chapter Six
Conclusions: The Sacred Center

 

Figure 6.1. An annual pilgrimage is made during the festival of Ooyllur fiiti to glaciers on the slopes of Mount Qolquepunku. east of Cuzco. lraditional beliefs associate the worship there as being principally for /\usangate to Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
130

As we have seen, a large and complex set of factors would have contributed to Machu Picchu’s economic, political, and religious importance, and I will summarize only a few of the principal ones here. Machu Picchu may have been a royal retreat built partly to commemorate Pachacuti’s successful campaign against the Chancas.257 Sorne scholars believe thar Machu Picchu was an important site because of its strategic economic and political situation between the forest lowlands and Cuzco.258 It would have helped control trade and provided security to farmers in the fertile nearby valleys.259 Perhaps Machu Picchu was itself a center for communities that grew warrn-weather crops such as coca lea ves and maize. 260 Although these factors would have affected the growth and importance ofMachu Picchu, they still do not seem to explain its inaccessible location or its religious significance.

A careful look at the geographical location of Machu Picchu reveals that it is not only atan ecological center between rhe mountain highlands and rhe forest lowlands, but it is also located among the most sacred mountains of the region. In addition, it is virtually encircled by the sacred Urubamba River, which flows generally in a southeast to northwest direction, replicating the passage of rhe sun. At key times of the Inca calendar the sun rises and sets behind snowcapped mountains, which are still considered powerful deities today. The Southern Cross, center of the Milky Way, the celestial river in Inca thought, lies in juxtaposition with Salcantay, one of the most sacred mountains of the Incas and directly connected to Machu Picchu. Sacred mountains lie in the four cardinal directions from rhe site. This central location ofMachu Picchu, itselfbui!t on a mountain, recalls the discussion by Mircea Eliade of the importance of an axis mundi in world religions.261 The axis mundi becomes a sacred center conceptually uniting rhe earth and sky. Whatever the Incas believed, they would have been aware of rhe central position ofMachu Picchu in relation to the mountains, and major ceremonies at Machu Picchu would certainly have involved mountain worship.

We know thar mountain worship preceded the Incas.262 There is also evidence indicating that the concept of a center surrounded by four sacred mountains was a pre-Inca one: both rhe Wari (Huari) and Tiahuanaco cultures (which arose during the first millennium AD) appear to have developed within this conceptual, physical scheme. 263 Given our understanding of rhe reasons why mountains were so important to the Incas, it is clear that they would have been seen as protectors andas providers of economic stabiliry, When actual mountains coincided closely with important celestial phenomena and the cardinal directions, the sacredness of the place in the center would surely have increased.

The region ofMachu Picchu appears to have been part of a larger system centered in Cuzco. I have referred to the association, both physical and conceptual, between rhe principal mountains of the greater Cuzco region, Salcantay and Ausangate. It is beyond the scope of this book to detail the sacred geography of the Cuzco Valley (or the Vilcanota Valley system with which it is connected), but I would like to make brief reference to it in order to help place Machu Picchu within the larger cosmological and sacred geographical system of rhe Incas.

The important role played by Salcantay at Machu Picchu has been examined previously, and I would only add that Cuzco lies near a midpoint between Salcantay and Ausangate along a line that runs southeast-northwest. Thus it is in accord with the How of the Vilcanota (Urubamba) River, the route of the deity Viracocha (as we saw in Chapter Two), and the sun’s passage during an important part of the year-the time of rains and the growth of crops and herds (see Figure 2.4).

Cuzco also lies near a water divide. It is at the source of a river that flows southeast into the Vilcanota River, which in turn flows northwest. Cuzco is situated on the eastern side of the water divide with a direct view of Ausangate, which still is the center for mountain worship in the region east of Cuzco (see Figures 2.3, 2.4, and 6.1). Cuzco is also located just below a pass that provides a view of Salcantay (Figure 6.2). Senqa, one of the mountains on the northwestern border of the Cuzco Valley, was believed to be the direct origin of the water that passed through Cuzco and also was perceived to have brought rain from the sky.264 Cuzco was thus at the symbolic center for a circulation of waters,w in addition to being a center for the most powerful sacred mountains of the greater Cuzco region.
Figure 6.2. The pyramid-shaped, snowcapped mountain is Salcantay. This picture was taken from near the pass that líes directly above Cuzco to the west. Cuzco is located between Salcantay and Ausangate, two of the most importan! geographical features in the Cuzco region
Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu, builr by Pachacuti (the emperor responsible for establishing Cuzco as a symbolic center for the Andean world), surely would have been seen as a prominent sacred center. It was within a sacred geographical subsystem, as it were, with Salcantay, one end of the larger system, serving as its principal focus. Despite its remoteness, the area was of great importance economically, religiously, and politically for the Inca Empire. Machu Picchu would have been an important pilgrimage destination for rhe conqueror of the region, Pachacuti, and his deseendants. Special offerings would have been made to state deities, such as the sun, and to those believed associated with key sacred geographical features, especially mountains. Abandonment of rhe sire and extensive looting have left us with only a fragmentary record of what these offerings would have in volved. Finds made at Machu Picchu, however-and at less disturbed ceremonial sites elsewhere in the empire-suggest rhat rhese would have included sacrifices ofllamas and offerings of high-status items of textiles, ceramics, and statues (Figures 6.3, 6.4, and 6.5). (16)

Given the above, an examination of the sacred geographies at other Inca ceremonial sites would seem essential for better understanding the reasons for their locations and their functions. This approach has already proven useful in interpreting pre-Inca ceremonial complexes as well.266

What I have attempted to do in this book is demonstrate the ways in which Machu Picchu fits into a sacred geographical setting and how understanding this can help us in interpreting the significance of its location and its primary functions. The distribution and types of sacred stones, the astronomical alignments of many of the structures, the ways that symbolic and functional elements of Cuzco may have been replicated at the site, and the relationship of the si tes in the region to each other are only sorne of the more obvious areas that need further investigation.

Nonetheless, I am confident that further research will not change the basic concept ofMachu Picchu as a site built in a location selected in large part because of the sacred geographical features surrounding it. These features have been found to be closely associated with sorne of the most important aspects ofinca life: the fertiliry of crops and animals, polirical control, empowerment of ritual specialists, trade, and the hydrological cycle as it interacts with the celestial sphere.

Our knowledge ofinca religion indicares that worship of major (nonmountain) deities such as Viracocha, Illapa, and Inti (rhe sun) certainly would have taken place at the site. But the reasons for Machu Picchu’s location and the key to much of its meaning appear clearly to be associated with the sacred geography of the region. At Machu Picchu we find a unique combination of landscape and cosmological beliefs that together formed a powerful sacred center uniting religion, economics, and politics. These factors led to the construction of one of rhe most impressive ceremonial sites of the ancient world.

Figure 6.3: This model of the Ice Maiden found on Mount Ampato illustrates the dress of an Inca noble woman (courtesy of Christopher Klein).
Figure 6.5. Male and female Inca statues found on Mount Llullaillaco have miniature clothing similar to that worn by adult Inca nobles.
Figure 6.4. A male tunic from a mountain ceremonial site on Llullaillaco illustrates the colorful and

 

Machu Picchu

Epilogue

Recent Research in the Machu Picchu Region
A!though che firsc edicion of chis book appeared in 1991, I found liccle in che text chac needed changing while preparing chis latest edicion. Severa! publications relacing to Machu Picchu and other sites in che Vilcabamba region have added information of interese. A number of guidebooks have appeared, and Ruch Wright and Alfredo Valencia (2001) have provided one, The Machu Picchu Guidebook, chat stands out for its choroughness and piccorial documencacion. Fine summaries of che Machu Picchu Historical Sanccuary are chose ofFrost (1995) and Kauffmann-Doig (2005).
Machu Picchu
Figure E.2. Restoration work in the «Industrial Group.»

Archaeological studies include an important volume by Valencia and Gibaja (1992) that has a compilation of excavations undertaken ar che site over severa! years. One of the most significant investigations undertaken in recent years was the hydrological study of the site by Kenneth Wright and Alfredo Valencia (2000). In addition to demonstrating the flow of water through Machu Picchu, they located the remains of an Inca trail connecting the site with the Urubamba River, established that che Incas did not have to abandon Machu Picchu because of a water shortage, and estimated rhat 60 percent of che work that went into che site’s construction lies underground (Wright and Valencia 2000: 19-24, 38). Richard Burger and Lucy Salazar (2003 and 2004) edited two volumes with arrides reanalyzing the Machu Picchu materials recovered by Bingham (see Burger 2004; Miller 2003; Niles 2004; Verano 2003). The aforementioned books are essential reading for any serious scholar interested in Machu Picchu.

Srudies focusing on new interpretative material direcdy relating to Machu Picchu are few (see the lisr of publications in Programa Machu Picchu 2000). There are sorne that remain within the range of possibility given our understand

 

Figure E.1. A view across the main plaza to the eastern sector of Machu Picchu, called by Bingham the «Industrial Group.» Much of the recen\ restoration work undertaken at the site has taken place in this sector.   · 35 Machu Picchu

beliefs (albeit wirh sorne imaginative leaps [e.g., Sánchez 1989]). Others have little basis in historical, ethnographic, or archaeological facts (e.g., Westerman 1998). Ironically, in view of my own focus on the importance of sacred mountains, sorne guides at the ruins now describe stones as representing mountains, even when rhere is little to support this beyond their having pointed shapes-hardly convincing in itself. Wright and Valencia (2000:8, 13), however, added sorne intriguing examples of»arrow stones» (i.e., triangles carved in stones that point in the direction of major peaks) and stones mimicking the shapes of mountains in the distance. Gary Ziegler and Kim Malville (2003) have provided additional evidence of the importance of solstice and mountain alignments at Machu Picchu.

The most noticeable changes at Machu Picchu have been in the physical realm, especially the restoration projects (Figures E. l and E.2) and the opening of a site museum, the Museo de Sitio Manuel Chávez Ballón-Machu Picchu (Astete 2005). There have also been changes in the modern-day cultural sphere (Figure E.3). For example, there has been a considerable expansion in rhe role played by what has been called «mystic tourism» (Flores 1996 and 2004) (Figure E.4). Machu Picchu has come to be seen as a place of special power and attracts New
Figure E.3. A folk dance in the Sacred Plaza at Machu Picchu.
Machu Picchu

 

RECENT RESEARCH
Agers and Andean mystics alike. Severa! books have appeared that describe mystical experiences (Cumes and Lizárraga 1999; Wilcox 1999; see also Barrionuevo 2000) and initiations at Machu Picchu (Jenkins 1997). It is likely rhat rhese activities will continue to grow.

Recent excavations at or near Machu Picchu have been few and limited in scope (see Valencia 2004). In 2001 the archaeologist Fernando Astete leda team to the summit ofYanantin, a mountain that stands out across from Machu Picchu to the northeast. As was described in the text, Yanantin appears to have played an important symbolic role at Machu Picchu. Alrhough no ruins were found on its summit (quite difficult to access), remains of more Inca roadwork were discovered nearby (Fernando Astete, personal communication 2002). Kaupp and Fernández (1999) found a ceremonial platform at the pass ofChaskaqasa (clase to Yanantin), and Kaupp and Rodríguez (2004) described ceremonial sites associated with the mountain Veronica above the northern side of the Urubamba River.

In the Vilcabamba region, to the west of Machu Picchu, severa! discoveries of archaeological sites have been made in recent years. Within view of Machu Picchu the site ofLlaktapata (Llactapata) on the ridge between the Aobamba and Santa Teresa rivers (see chapter 4) was more thoroughly investigated by McKim Malville, Hugh Thomson, and Gary Ziegler (2004). As noted previously, they discovered remarkable similarities ar the site to the findings I have presented about Machu Picchu.

Vincent Lee (2000) has presented a summary ofhis years of research still farther west, and he identifies (in sorne cases for the first time) most of the sites noted in the chronicles of this region. Roben von Kaupp has led severa! trips into the area, and his reports have described severa! previously unknown sites (see Kaupp and Delgado 2001; Kaupp and Fernández 1997, 1999, and 2000; Kaupp and Rodríguez 2004). Gary Ziegler has located a number of sites in the Vilcabamba, and he, Peter Frost, and Alfredo Valencia have led teams that discovered Inca ruins north of the important ceremonial center of Choquequirao (Frost 2004; Ziegler 2001). This latter site was what first generated Bingham’s interest in searching for the lost capital ofVilcabamba the Old and thus led to his discovery of Machu Picchu. lt has been extensively cleared and resto red during the past decade (see Figure 1.11).

Although it is not my intention to cite ali of the publications thar have recendy appeared relating to the Incas, there are a few that might be mentioned for the complementary role they have relative to issues noted in this book. Susan Niles’s (1999) book on Inca royal estates makes for interesting comparative material for any study of Machu Picchu. Brian Bauer and David Dearborn (1995) have published an excellent overview of Inca astronomy. This is especially important to read in conjunction with Bauer’s (1998) book on rhe system of conceptual
Machu Picchu
Figure EA. A painting with mystical allusions greets visitors near the entrance to Machu Picchu.
lines (ceques) that linked more than 300 sacred sites at Cuzco. Bauer and Stanish (2001) wrote about Inca pilgrimage and ceremonial complexes at Lake Ti ti caca, and their book provides valuable material to compare with Machu Picchu and adjacent sites. To this might be added my own studies of an Inca underwater ritual site in Lake Titicaca (Reinhard 19926) and Inca pilgrimage centers in other parts of the empire (Astete and Reinhard 2003; Reinhard 1992a, 1992c, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998a, 19986, 1998c, 1999a, 19996, 2005; Reinhard and Ceruti 2000, 2005, 2006, n.d.). lndeed, it was in part thanks to my work at Machu Picchu that I began to search for these sites because of their apparent relationship with significant features of rhe sacred landscape.

 

ARCHAEOLOGICAL THEORY ANO SACRED LANDSCAPE STUDIES

Since I first began gathering information about Machu Picchu in the early 1980s, there have been significant advances made that involve archaeological theory and what has come to be called «landscape archaeology»-especially its symbolic and sacred aspects. There is an increased realization that «ali societies in the past would have recognized, as do ali societies in the present, sorne features of their landscapes … as sacred» (Ucko 1994: xix). Severa! studies, mainly in Europe, have demonstrated rhat archaeological sites need to be placed within the broader context of physical and sacred features of rhe landscape-particularly one dominated by mountains (see, e.g., Ashmore and Knapp 1999; Bender 1993; Carmichael et al. 1994; Hirsch and O’Hanlon 1995; Tilley 1994; Ucko and Layton 1999).

Nonetheless, archaeologists have only recently begun applying this approach to prehispanic si tes located in the dramatic topography of the Andes. Research undertaken in recent years has shown rhat the meanings not only of Inca, bur also of pre-Inca, ceremonial sites can be better understood when they are examined using the perspective of sacred landscape (see Bauer 1998; Bauer and Stanish 2001; Guchte 1990; Heffernan 1991, 1996; Hyslop 1990; Kolata and Ponce 1992; Niles 1992; Reindel 1999; Zapata 1998). In my particular case I have applied this perspective to sorne of the most enigmatic sites in the Andes, including Chavín, Tiahuanaco, and the giant drawings called the Nazca Lines (see Reinhard 19856, 1987, 1988, 1990a, 19926, 1992d, 2002).

The examination ofMachu Picchus association with sacred mountains allows it to be placed within this ever-widening body of studies and thus permits comparisons to be made that advance our understanding of cultural adaptations. Since research about a cultural landscape always involves an element ofinterpretation, it especially fits in with recent theoretical approaches, above ali those that fall under the !abe! «post-processual» or «interpretative» (see Hodder 1999:5; Johnson 1999:98-107; Shanks and Hodder 1998). One thing that characterizes «inrerpretative» archaeology when compared to other archaeological approaches is «much more importance being placed upon symbolism and other cognitive factors» (Dark 1995: 10). Thus, a materialist (or «processual») interpretation oflandscape stresses the practical importance of the resources it supplies and therefore that it is a commodity to be exploited (cf. Johnson 1999:103). The interpretative approach would take this into account but would focus more on the ways that the landscape is perceived and the kinds of interaction that take place between it and the culture in which it is embedded.

As we have seen, Machu Picchu was an important place of pilgrimage. The concept of landscape is an especially powerful organizing metaphor for examining pilgrimage cross-culturally and through time (Coleman and Elsner 1995:212). The Incas demonstrated the importance of sacred landscape features through the construction of ceremonial centers in or near them and the establishment of state-sponsored pilgrimages (Reinhard and Ceruti 2006, n.d.). In the end this resulted in one of the most awesome achievements in the prehistory of the Andes-the construction of Machu Picchu in one of the world’s most rugged and spectacular landscapes.

 

Appendix
Cardinal Directions and Sacred Mountains

 

In the main body of the text I described the role thar cardinal directions appear to have played in the conceptual organization of Machu Picchu. Because sorne scholars have doubted that north and south played a role in Inca thought, I decided to add a few words on the subject.

The importance of the cardinal directions of east and west has long been known in Inca studies (Rowe 1946:300). They have an obvious linkage with rhe rising and setting points of the sun at the times of the equinoxes, something of no small significance to a people among whorn sun worship figured so prominently. East, in particular, has been one of the most important directions for Andean peoples, dueto its being the direction of the rising sun (see Tschopik 1951 :253), which in turn is associated wirh fertility (Riviere 1982:191). Garcilaso (1966 [1609):117, 413; 1967 [ 1609] 1: 120) was apparently the only chronicler to note direct!y the importance of the equinoxes, and sorne scholars have doubred his reliability on this point. Zuidema (1988: 154-156), however, has demonstrated that there is indirect evidence provided by other chroniclers of their importance, especially with regard to the September equinox.

The Incas were also concerned with duality and oppositions, dual social and political divisions turning into quadripartitions, as was the case in Cuzco itself (Rostworowski 1983; Wachtel 1973). Alrhough there are man y exceptions, which are to be expected given the fact that cardinal directions would constitute only one among severa! factors taken into account for orientating sites (Zuidema 1986), numerous ceremonial structures in Inca and pre-Inca times had their sides aligned with rhe cardinal directions (see Beorchia 1985 for Inca ritual structures on mountain summits; Ponce 1989:93 for Tiahuanaco sites; Rowe 1967:97 for rhe nearly 3,000-year-old ceremonial center at Chavín de Huantar).
Figure A1. A view to the east over the Inca ceremonial site on the summit of Pachatusan, the highest mountain bordering the Cuzco Valley. The Ausangate massif is visible in the distance.

 

Machu Picchu
142

Of course, square and rectangular structures in an east-west alignment would have ali sides running in cardinal directions. But this is precisely rhe point: Andean peoples would not ignore that directions were formed in direct opposition to the sacred eastwest ones, even assuming they made no attempt to establish these directions through astronomical observations (see Urton 1978: 162-164 for how this positioning could have been done). That something more was involved than a simple play of oppositions is suggested by the current-day belief near Cuzco that two enormous mountains stand at the northern and southern boundaries of the earth (Urton 1981:36). I have also observed in current-day rituals in several areas of the Andes that offerings are made in the cardinal directions as a way of insuring the «cornpleteness» of a ceremony. Not only has this been reponed elsewhere in the Andes (see, e.g., Buechler and Buechler 1971 :95), but cardinal directions were also involved in the organization of villages and social groups and in turn were connected with ceremonial si tes, induding those on mountains (Riviere 1982:164, 170, 190-191).

The Incas conceptually divided Cuzco and the rest of their empire into four (tawantin) regions (suyus), hence the term Tawantinsuyu for the Inca Empire. The lines dividing the four regions extended out from the Temple of the Sun, and they were perceived to ideally extend in the cardinal directions (Zuidema 1986: 189). According to Zuidema (1986: 189-193), however, only the one to rhe west actually did so. The others deviated because oflocal factors, principally relating to the hydrological system.

Thus, the east line followed the course of the Huatanay River as it flowed out ofCuzco (Zuidema 1986:189-190). If a compass reading is taken from the Coricancha (Temple of the Sun), the center for the ceque (imaginary line) system, then it has an azimuth of approximately 110º (see Figure 5.2). If this line was to extend to the far horizon, it would be in the direction both of the mountain Ausangate and the December solstice sunrise ( 111 º).

From a map showing the division into the four suyus (Zuidema 1986:182), it can be seen that the eastern line is even farther south rhan 110º and that, if extended, this line would exdude Ausangate from rhat suyu. We know, however, that Ausangate was one of the most important sacred places of Collasuyu ( Guarnan Poma 1956 [1613]:196). Therefore, it seems possible rhat rhe line either kept to the 110º bearing, which would be in keeping with Zuiderna’s original staternent (plus follow the example of the southern line, as we will see below) and that the map is wrong, or that it míghr even have returned to a due east direction once it left the immediate vicinity of Cuzco, which was as far as the ceque lines noted by Cobo (1964 [1653]; 1990 [1653]) extended.

Ir might be added that if the eastern line did lead due east, there was still an association with sacred mountains. The rising sun at that time carne up from behind

FURTHER SITES IN THE REGION
Pachatusan, albeit just to the right of the highest summit. Pachatusan was noted as being sacred at the time of the Incas (see Sama Cruz Pachacuti 1968 [1571]:299, 305; Rendan 1960: 117) and continues to be a powerful local moumain god to the present day (Sallnow 1987:129-130), worshipped as a source of fertility for crops and livestock (Pedro Quispe, personal communication 1987). Archaeological remains support its importance in Inca times. Ceremonial structures (artificial platforms and buildings with fine stonework built into cliff sides) are situated high on the mountain, including at the poim where the equinox line crosses it as seen from the Temple of the Sun (Astete and Reinhard 2003; Rendan 1960:117) (Figure Al).

The line continues on to pass by the slopes of the snow moumain Colquepunku, where one of the most important Andean religious festivals, Qoyllur Riri, currently takes place (Randall 1982:62n6; see also Allen 1988:44) (see Figure 6.1). The festival is considered by many local inhabitants to have primarily involved worship of Ausangate for the fertility of crops and livestock (Flores 1991:234; Gow 1974:80-81; Sallnow 1987:211). Colquepunku is either viewed as pan of Ausangate (Gow 1974:57; Sallnow 1987:211, 235) oras deriving its powers from Ausangate (Nuñez del Prado 1969-1970:149). If theline is extended further, it is notfar from a pass (and watershed) on which was a ritual site called Walla Walla, where Inca ceremonial offerings were found, including the finest gold statues in Cuzco’s Archaeology Museum (Franco 1937:269-276) (Figure A.2). The possibility of the eastern line having been due east is made more likely when the case of the northern line is considered.
Figure A.2. The location of the Inca pilgrimage site of Walla Walla is on a pass near the origin of the Mapocho (later Paucartambo) River. The view is to the southwest with the Ausangate massif in the background
Machu Picchu

Zuidema (1986:182, 191-193) has the line to the north actually leading in a northeasterly direction. Although this may be correct for the placement of the ceque lines, if extended farther the line would mean the exclusion of the mountains Sahuasiray and Pitusiray from Antisuyu. Guarnan Poma (1956 [1613]: 191, 196), however, lists thern as among the most sacred places of Antisuyu (Figure A.3). A due-north line would run over Sahuasiray and easily include Pitusiray. They are still worshipped widely in rhe area today (Sanchez 1984:266), also figuring in a legend in which Sahuasiray provided water to the valley below (Dumezil and Duviols 1974-1976:174). lmportant ruins lying on or close to the north line include Tambo Machay, Huchoy Cuzco, and Urco (at the foot of Pitusiray). According to Urton (1978: 162-164) the north line was established by observing the greatest altitude of rhe sun at rhe time of its maximum northern movement.

Thus it would appear that three of the lines may have been along, or very close to, the cardinal directions, at least once extended at a greater distance from Cuzco (Urton 1978:162-164). The line to rhe south was a different case, however, not being in a cardinal direction but rather having an azimuth of 146º. Zuidema (19826:98) explains this as attributable to the Southern Cross, along with Alpha and Best Centaurus, rising in that direction, which also is indicated by the first ceque of Cuntisuyu, called Anahuarque.
Figure A.3. The dark, broken massif of Pitusiray is on the right with the snowcapped peak of Sahuasiray behind it (Mount Chikon is to the left). View is from near Chinchero.
Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
Figure A.4. The layered summit of Huanacauri is on the left and Anahuarque on the right, as seen with a telephoto view from the main street of Avenida del Sol in Cuzco.
Anahuarque was a mountain that played an important role in Inca cosmology, being the only one to save rhe pre-Inca people in the Cuzco valley when it rose with the waters of a great Hood (Zuidema 19826:97-98). It was worshipped as the ancestress of these people. The peak carne to figure prominently in Inca initiation ceremonies, which were also linked with fertiliry Along with the mountain Huanacauri, considered one of the most sacred places in the Inca Empire (Cieza 1977 [1553]:105; see also Urton 1990) (Figures A.4 and A.5), Anahuarque was a source of water to a valley that ends near the si tes ofWimpillay and Muyuorqo. Wimpillay was occupied by the Wari long befare the Incas (Luis Barreda, personal communication 1988), and, in addition to Inca ceramics, Early Horizon pottery (dating to befare the time of Christ) was faund on Muyuorqo (John Rowe, personal communication 1987). It would seem likely that Anahuarque hadan important role in indigenous beliefs prior to the Incas, who then incorporated it into their own conceptual system, the combination of stars and the mountain only taking place when seen from Cuzco.

The point to be made here is that a dualistic symmetry would have required the line to lead due south, but the location of a sacred mountain associated with a
145
Machu Picchu
Figure A.5. The author examines ruins on the summit of Huanacauri, considered the second-mostimportant religious site in the Inca Empire
warer/fertiliry cult (there is no significant mountain due south of Cuzco), wirh che added impetus of a link with celestial bodies also associated with fertility, would have been a sound reason for changing che direction of che line. Even then, it is suggestive that important Inca ruins anda rare (for the distance) ritually sculpted rock outcrop lie due south ofCuzco near Pacariqtambo, which eventually became accepted as the place of origin noted in Inca mythology (Urton 1990:29-37) (see Figures 2.4, A.6, and A.7). Zuidema (1988: 161) has hypothesized, therefore, that south may have been rhe cosmological direction of origin for che Incas (and rhe site built there).

There is general agreement that the western line leads due west. Along this line lie sacred mountains and Inca ceremonial sites such as at Media Luna (Quilla Rumí), Sahuite, and Vilcashuaman (Guchte 1990: 190, 228). The first moumain of note is Cerro Tilca, which has Inca ruins on it and has a dominating position above the sacred Apurimac River and the impressive Inca site of Marcahuasi, along with a view toward Salcamay (Angles 1988 (1):1:431, 433–435; see also Heffernan 1996). Continuing on, the equinox line passes near the snowcapped mountain of Ampay. This mountain is believed today to be the dominant deity of theAbancay region (Nuñez del Prado 1969-1970:149). ltwas likely an important
146
FURTHER SITES IN THE REGION
sacred mountain to the Chanka people and for the earlier Wari culture (Anders 1986:784-785, 798), which consrructed an important center at Piquillacta (Piquillakta) near Cuzco (McEwan 1987). Since the mountains would already have been worshipped prior to the Inca expansion into the areas they were located, it follows that the mountains were not made sacred by being on the cardinal directions but rather that the directions and mountains combined to add to the sacredness with which they were viewed (see Astete 1990).

Ir has been argued thar there were no terms for «north» and «south» in Quechua, the language of the Incas, but there is evidence that this may reflect a lack of knowledge about how the Incas perceived and named directions and a loss of such terms used by the Inca elite following the Spanish conquest (see Proulx 1988:161 with regard to the term for «south»). To be sure, the cardinal directions may not have been of primary importance relative to other factors, but this is not
Machu Picchu

Figure A.6. The entrance to one of the buildings

at Mauccallakta, which lies due south of Cuzco and is associated by most scholars with Pacariqtambo, a mythical place of origin for the Incas. Bingham believed that Machu Picchu, Pacariqtambo, and Vilcabamba (last capital of the Incas) were one and the same.

147
148

the same as the opinion of sorne scholars that they (or at least north and south directions) were not noticed at ali. The reason for describing the situation with regard to cardinal directions at Inca Cuzco is because it aids in understanding rhe importance sacred mountains would have had when found to be in accordance with thern, especially the high snowcapped (hence water-providing) peaks as seen from a central place, as in the case ofMachu Picchu (Figure A.8).

Figure A.7. A drawing of 1613 shows worship of the mountain Huanacauri, including a symbolic representation of the mythical caves from which the Incas believed their ancestors first emerged at Pacariqtambo (from Guarnan Poma 1980 [1613)). Bingham believed that the building he called the Temple of the Three Windows at Machu Picchu represented these caves.
Machu PicchuMachu Picchu

Figure AS. An aerial view over Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu.
Reinhard.indb 149
Machu Picchu

111a
This photo places Machu Picchu (bottom center) in the context of its mountainous surroundings. The site is located above the Urubamba River near the lower end of a ridge descending from the 6,271 m (20.57 4ft) summit of Salcantay (upper right. on the back cover). The photo was taken from a pass to the northeast of Machu Picchu. Photo by Octavio Fernandez.
15CJ Machu Picchu
Machu Picchu
152
Endnotes

.

1.Publicacions devoced exclusively to Inca culture include D’Alcroy 2002; Davies 1995; Hemming 1970; Kendall 1973; and McEwan 2006. Mclncyre 1975 presents a popular account. See Bauer 1992 for che development of che Inca srate; Bauer and Scanish 2001 for che Inca pilgrimage cradicion; Hyslop 1984 and 1990 for Inca roads and secdemenc paccerns; Agurco 1987, Gasparini and Margolies 1980, Lee 1985 and 2000, Niles 1999, and Proczen 1993 for Inca archicecture; Bauer 1998, Cobo 1990 [1653], Rowe 1979, and Zuidema 1964 for che Cuzco ceque syscem; and Raffino 1981 for an overview of che Inca occupacion in che souchern pare of cheir empire.
2.For overviews oflnca culcure placed wichin che contexc of Andean prehistory in general see Davies 1997, Lumbreras 1974, Morris and von Hagen 1993, and Moseley 1992. McEwan (1987 and 2005) discusses che relacionship becween che Inca and Huari (Wari) cultures in che Cuzco region.
3.The Inca emperor was believed to be in control of che most valuable offerings to che gods and of che religious specialiscs who made chem (see Guarnan Poma 1980 [1613]:253). Je is likely, however, chac ocher religious specialiscs would have been involved in making most of che offerings made ac regular intervals ac Machu Picchu. Those known as uilca camayos were in charge of paying homage to che provincial sacred places (huacas) and deicies (Molina 1959 [1575]:96). They were responsible for escablishing che qualicy and amount of offerings chac corresponded ro each deicy according to irs religious importance. Vi/ca camayos would receive che sacrificial victims and offerings broughc by che pilgrimage parcy, and chey would be involved in che actual performance of che sacrifices and che burial or burning of che offerings (Molina 1959 [1575]:96). le is likely chac priescs in Cuzco, and perhaps che emperor himself, deterrnined che amount and qualicy of offerings made ac Machu Picchu.
4.Severa! accounts of che discovery ofMachu Picchu were published by Hiram Bingham (see Bingham 1913, 1915, 1916, 1975, and 1979). His son, Alfred Bingham (1989), wroce a biography of his facher chac provides addicional informacion of interese. For ocher publicacions on Machu Picchu see Burger and Salazar 2004; Frosc 1995; Hemming 1981; Kauffmann-Doig 2005; and Wrighc and Valencia 2001.
5.Cieza de Leon (1977 [1553]: 105) lisced Huanacauri as second only to che Temple of che Sun in imporcance. Nuñez del Prado (1969-1970: 149-150) describes currentday beliefs abouc Huanacauri; and Reinhard (n.d.) presents a cheory explaining why ic became so significanc in Inca beliefs.
6.The Apurimac River begins souch of rhe Vilcanota River and roughly parallels ic as ic flows to che Amazon. le was also considered especially sacred to che Incas, who maintained a major shrine close to ic (Cobo 1990 [1653]: 108). The chronicler Cieza de Leon (1959 [1553]: 151) wroce in che mid-1500s chac che fourch-mosc-important temple in che Inca Empire was Ancocagua (lisced immediacely afcer che temple ofVilcanoca). We were able to idencify chis temple in 1994 (Reinhard 1998c). Alchough ic was noc conscrucced ac rhe actual origin of che Apurimac (which, in any event, has severa! major sources-unlike che obvious, single one for che Vilcanora), ic is locaced on a scriking hillcop ac a point

ENDNOTES
where a majar ecological cransition cakes place and agriculcure can begin. In a seeming parallel to Machu Picchu and che Vileanota River to che norch, che imporcanc cencer of Choquequirao was builc on a ridge overlooking che Apurimac gorge where ic is ac ics mosc narrow. This is also in che area of cransicion from che highlands to che lowlands, and che sice has striking views to che sacred mouncains of che Vilcabamba.

7.Incerescingly, alchough shrines dedícared to Viracocha are fairly rare, chere is one near che end of che sevench line of che Cuzco ceque system in che quarcer of Chinchaysuyu (labeled by Rowe as Ch. 7 and by Zuidema as lle) (see Bauer 1998:41-42, 168). This line ends as it passes out of sight from Cuzco in che direction of Machu Picchu and is associated wich Topa Inca, Pachacuci’s son. Farrington (1995:56) shows it extending in a straighc line to Machu Picchu. Alchough chere is no historical evidence chac che Incas conceptually incorporaced more distanc sites direccly inco che Cuzco ceque syscem, sorne scholars rhink chis likely (see Zuidema 1982a:439-445). Pachacuci is associaced wich a line (Ch. 5) clase to Ch. 7 cha e also leads in chat direction (see Bauer 1998:58-63, 158).
8.Hiram Bingham (1975: 170) naced that che City Cace (or Caceway) was anocher area wich a similarly high percentage of vessels for liquids, and he believed chis was dueto drinks being offered to people entering chere. He stated that chis was in contrast to finds made in che southeastern quarter of che site, where food dishes were as common as vessels for liquids. Bingham apparencly believed chac che offering of liquids at che Cate was only to relieve chirsc. Civen che sacred nature of che Inca Trail and che sites along ir (not to mencion Machu Picchu icself), however, ir seems more likely chat chis would have been a place for che ritual drinking and offering of liquids.

This hypothesís is supporced by Bingham’s discovery of a unique cache of more chan 30 water-worn obsídian pebbles near che Cateway. These had to have been brought to Machu Picchu from a great distance, as there had been no recenc volcanic activity in che area. They were recencly idencified as having an origin in che Chivay obsidian source located in che Colea Valley, more chan 200 km distant (Burger 2004: 104-105). Burger (2004: 104) concluded cha e «ir is possible chat che obsidian pebbles !efe at Machu Picchu drew cheir mulcivalenc symbolic force from cheir natural associations in che Colea Valley wich high mouncain peaks, che power of che underworld as manifesced by active volcanoes, and che rushing water of che powerful river that shaped chis group of un usual translucenc stones.» Incerestingly, Inca ritual offerings have been found on che summits of peaks bordering che Colea Valley (Reinhard 2005). These include che discovery of human sacrifices, called capacochas, and are considered che most important of ali offerings. To date, however, there have been no finds ofhuman sacrifices having taken place at Machu Picchu or any of its ouclying si tes.

9.One afeen hears chac che stones used to build che structures at Machu Picchu carne from somewhere else. Since che stones would be extremely difficulc, if not impossible, to move even wich modern machinery, che conclusion reached by sorne was chac advanced technology had to have been involved. The ridge on which Machu Picchu is perched, however, consists largely of granice, which is common chroughout che Machu Picchu region (Kalafatovich 1963:218-220). The only rocks chought to be excraneous to che sice are small ones chat appear to have come from che upper Urubamba Valley, perhaps from Ollancaycambo (Kalafacovich 1963:222). We know from che chroniclers

154

thar the act of quarrying stone would have required offerings to che mountain from which it was extracced (Cobo 1964 [1653]: 166, 176).

1 O. Sorne scholars have choughc chac che Incihuacana represenced an usnu (ushnu or osno) (Brundage 1967:405; Dearborn and Schreiber 1986:34-35). The cerm usnu has noc been easy to define bue was usually applied to a stepped pyramid, mound of stones, or a boulder, ali of which had a ritual use and were ofren associaced wich water (Zuidema 1978:157-162). The more famous usnus are che stepped pyramids at sites such as Huanuco Viejo, Vilcashuaman, and Cuzco (as depicted by Guarnan Poma 1956 [1613] vol. 2:30) on which che Inca could sic. Bue other usnus were noted as being carved rocks on which sacred objects were placed and offerings were made. In chis sense of the term che lncihuacana could be interpreted as a type of usnu.

le is suggescive chac, when che usnu was made of stones wichin a ceremonial complex, ic was in che shape of a pyramid, which sorne Andean scholars have incerpreced to represenc a symbolic mouncain (Benson 1972:34, 94-95; Grieder 1982: 133; Zuidema and Quispe 1968:30, 32; see also Meddens 1997:11-12). The associacion wich water would be in accord wich chis, as would che use of che term usnu for mounds of stones chac, when made in a ritual context, were believed to be places for making offerings to che mountain gods andas symbolically representing chem (Ramos 1976 [1621]:68; see also Middendorf 1974 [1895]3:71-72; Reinhard 1988:60-61; Squier 1877:399; Zuidema and Quispe 1968:30, 32). Ic is also suggestive chac che usnu was used as a point from which to observe che sunsec by using markers on che horizon (Zuidema 1980:326). The Incihuacana is open to che wesc, and we have seen how mouncains are in alignmenc wich imporcanc sunsecs as seen from ic.

Thus che incerprecacion of che Incihuacana as represencing a mouncain would be in agreemenc wich one use of che term usnu and suggests, in curn, that che stepped pyramidal placforms used by che Incas were meant to represent symbolic mountains. If chis hypothesis is correct, it exemplifies che use of a potent imagery to express che Incas’ religious, economic, and political power. Ic also explains che absence of an usnu placform inside che central plaza at Machu Picchu (Salazar and Burger 2004:348).

11.The ocher window in che Temple of che Sun (Torreón) provides a view of che sky chac includes che caí! of Scorpio, which is included in an Inca conscellacion called Collca (scorehouse) (Dearborn and Schreiber 1986:33). This conscellacion is associaced wich che storage of crops and is scill linked wich che plancing season in current-day beliefs (see Urcon 1981:125).
12.The site should not be confused wich Pacallacta (also called Llakcapata), a site located at che start of che Inca Trail at Km 88, near che Urubamba River (Kendall 1988).
13.A local trail descends from Llakrapata to meet one chat extends along che Santa Teresa River. (A branch of chis latter trail ascends to the Inca site ofYurak Rumi.) Bingham had followed a trail from Vi ecos chac passes by Lake Yanacocha and reaches che Mojan Pass, where ic chen descends to che Sacsara River. He followed chis river uncí! he reached che more heavily craveled Urubamba River crail (Bingham 1916:452-453; 1975:222-223). In 1985 I followed che crail from Viccos to che Sacsara River, bue I found anocher crail chac led from che river chrough Tambohuayco over a ridge and descended to che Sanca Teresa River. Thus, che Incas had at cheir disposal a shorcer,

ENDNOTES
high route from Machu Picchu chac led direccly to Vitcos. When che rrail was cleared, a fic, unburdened Inca could have covered chis route in one long day.

14.For recent studies undertaken with che Bingham collection see Burger and Salazar (2003 and 2004). Wich regard to estates, Ramírez (2005:250n79) has questioned cheir origins, and Kauffmann (2005:62) doubts chat Machu Picchu could be considered an «estate,» nocing che differenc sites along che Inca Trail. For examples of che variery among «estates» see Niles (1999 and 2004). Hyslop (1990:300) provides a summary of che differences berween escaces and ocher rypes ofinca scace secclemencs.
15.Sorne wricers have referred to icems found ac Machu Picchu chac date to afrer che Spanish conquesc. In only rwo of che 107 burial caves invescigaced by members of Bingham’s expedicion were such items found (Eaton 1916:96). In one case a piece of rusry iron was uncovered, which Eaton ( 1916: 79) thought was likely !efe by a rreasure hunter. Toe other case involved a piece ofbovine tibia. Eaton (1916:57) believed rhat it indicated a burial that Cook place afrer che Spaniards arrived, whereas Bingham (1975:198-199) chought chat, since no items of commercial value were found at chis grave or ones near it, che bone was probably !efe by a treasure hunter.

Rowe (1990: 142) chought it highly probable char che Spaniard Gabriel Xuárez had visiced Machu Picchu in che 1560s, when he was one of che early owners of land chac included ic. Toe Peruvian archaeologisc Julio Tello reporcedly found a piece of Spanish alabascer while excavacing ar Machu Picchu (see Waisbard 1979: 133n 1), bue chis, along wich any ocher occasional find, can be explained as eicher having been !efe by creasure huncers or broughc in by people who occasionally visiced che area afeer Machu Picchu had been abandoned.

There is no solid evidence of a continued occupation ofMachu Picchu by che Incas afeer che Spanish conquest. Toe presence of Incas living in che region below Machu Picchu noted above does not necessarily mean che site itself was occupied (although occasional visits to ir might explain sorne of che few post-Hispanic artifacts found). E ven if chis was so, chere would have been only a very small population chere, and che earlier religious-political-economic activities would have been considerably curtailed, íf chey concinued to exist in any form ac ali.

16.Toe mosc imporcanc Inca offering assemblage appears to have consisced of figurines in gold, silver, and Spondylus shell represencing anchropomorphic beings and camelids (mainly llamas). Toe anchropomorphic beings would have been dressed in miniacure textiles. Ocher offerings included ceramics (ofeen in pairs and in miniacure), objeccs of metal (such as shawl pins and laminas), bone artifacts (such as tubes or adornments), wooden items (such as vases and spoons), vegerable food items (such as maize and peanuts), and sacrificed animals, usually camelids. In excepcional cases a child (finely dressed wirh a feathered headdress and a necklace or a bracelet) might be sacrificed (see Reinhard 1985a, 1992a, 2005; Reinhard and Ceruti 2000, 2006, n.d.).

156
References
l. Garcilaso 1966 [1609]:124.

2.Reinhard 19856, 1987, 1988, 1990a, 1992d, and 2002.
3.Arriaga 1968 [1621]; Avila 1975 [1608]; Cieza 1959; Cobo 1983 [1653], 1990 [1653]; Duviols 1967; Guarnan Poma 1980 [1613]; Ramos 1976 [1621]; Saloman and Urioste 1991.
4.Cf. Hemming 1982:131, 143-150; Kendall 1988:474.
5.Rowe 1979:42-43, 50-51; Valcárcel 1979:20.
6.Pardo 1957:2:458.
7.Angel Callañaupa, personal communication 1986.
8.Nuñez del Prado 1983:158; cf. Marzal 1971:251.
9.See Casaverde 1970:216; Gow and Condori 1982:43; Nuñez del Prado 1969-70:145-

146; Rozas 1983:155.

10.See Poole 1984:223; Wagner 1978:55.
11.See Caceres 1988; Conrreras 1976; Gow and Condori 1982.
12.Nuñezdel Prado 1969-70:146; 1983:158.
13.Quoted in Duviols 1967:28.
14.Santa Cruz Pachacuti 1968 [1571]:293.
15.Marzal 1983:218.
16.Caceres 1988.
17.Middendorfl974 [1895]:3:412.
18.Waisbard 1979:17.
19.Caceres 1988:67; Luciano Carbajal, personal communication 1989.
20.Washington Rozas, personal communication 1985.
21.Nuñez del Prado 1983:155.
22.Aristibis Cabrera, personal communication 1985.
23.Washington Rozas, personal communication 1988.
24.Guarnan Poma 1956 [1613]:196.
25.Duviols 1967:28.
26.Washington Rozas, personal communication 1988. 27.Aranguren 1975:114.

28. See, e.g., Cieza 1977 [1553]:107; Duviols 1967:21, 30; Guarnan Poma 1956

[1613]:196.

29.Sanchez 1984:266.
30.Sanchez 1984:266.
31.Wagner 1978:125.
32.See Waisbard 1979:171-173, 292.
33.MacLean 1986:115.
34.See Rowe 1987: 16.
35.Rowe 1987:16.
36.Wagner 1978:5.

REFERENCES

.

38.Gary Urton, personal communication 1989.
39.See Zuidema and Urcon 1976.
40.Urcon 1978:158-160.
41.Urcon 1978:160-164.
42.Zuidema 19826:90.
43.SeeAvila 1975 [1608]:124-125; Zuidema 19826:90.
44.Urton 1981:187.
45.Flores 1988:249.
46.Aristibis Cabrera, personal communication 1985.
47.Palomino 1984:32.
48.Urcon 1981:174.
49.Urcon 1981:70.
50.Avila 1975 [1608]:47.
51.Casaverde 1970:143.
52.Carrion 1955:130.
53.Urcon 1981:108.
54.Reinhard 1990a:171-172.
55.Reinhard 1985a:31 l; Morote 1956:295.
56.Urcon 1981:181.
57.La Barre 1948:179, 182-183.
58.Cayon 1971:156.
59.Urcon 1981:179.
60.See Urcon 1986:46.
61.Urcon 1986:60.
62.See lsbell 1978:59, 138, 144; Urcon 1986:60.
63.Zuidema 19826:90.
64.Zuidema 19826:90-91; Venero 1987:24.
65.Urcon 1981:185.
66.Urcon 1981: 184.
67.Isbell 1978:207; Sanca Cruz Pachacuci 1968 [1571].
68.Urcon 1981:184.
69.Urcon 1978:165.
70.Scuarc Whice, personal communication 1989; see also Moroce 1956:295.
71.See Lee 1985:31-32, 41-42; Whice 1984-85.
72.Whice 1984-85:134-135.
73.Whire 1984-85:135.
74.Zuidema 1982a:440.
75.Whire 1984-85: 143.
76.Urcon 1981:54; Silverrnan-Proust 1988:223.
77.Aveni 1980:41.
78.David Dearborn, personal communicacion 1989.
79.Rowe 1987:16.
80.Bingham 1979:55-57.
81.Berconio 1984 [1612]:386; cf. Zuidema 1982a:439.

158

.

82.Guarnan Poma 1956 [1613):168.
83.Roben Randall, personal communication 1989.
84.Luciano Carbajal, personal communication 1989.
85.Gow and Condori 1982:7.
86.Wiener 1880:349.
87.Ansion 1987:141.
88.Reinhard 1985a:309.
89.Luciano Carbajal, personal communication 1989.
90.Roe! 1966:27.
91.Fernando Astere, personal communication 1988; Bingham 1916:449.
92.Fernando Astete, personal communication 1989.
93.Reinhard 1985a:307-309, 314.
94.Szeminski andAnsion 1982:194.
95.Bastien 1978.
96.Gisbert 1980:24.
97.Favre 1967:139-140.
98.Wagner 1978:75, 97.
99.See Avila 1975 [1608]; Duviols 1967.
100.See Agustinos 1918 [1557]:35; and Avila 1975 [1608):102-105 for prehispanic beliefs; see Marzal 1971 :251; Roel 1966:26 for presenr-day beliefs in the Cuzco region.
101.See Reinhard 1985a:314.
102.Reinhard l 985a:3 l l.
103.Casaverde 1970:146; Gow and Condori 1982:45; Roe! 1966:27.
104.Avila 1975 [1608]:66; Cuentas 1982:56; Duviols 1974-1976:279.
105.See Kendall 1988:473.; Cabo 1964 [1653):175.
106.Martínez 1976:269; Palomino 1984:85; Tschopik 1951:199.
107.Poole 1984:216; Roel 1966:26.
108.Flores 1988:249.
109.Duviols 1974-1976:282.
110.Allen and Albo 1972:59; Nachtigall 1966:374.
111.Cabo 1964 [1653]:80.
112.Bingham 1913:542; Roben Randall, personal communication 1990.
113.Cabo 1964 [1653):166; see also Ansion 1987:119; Casaverde 1970:142; Favre

1967:138.

114.Caceres 1988:75; Nuñez del Prado 1983; Rozas 1983.
115.Guarnan Poma 1956 [1613):201
116.Middendorf 1974 [1895):412.
117.Wavrin 1961:144-148.
118.Betanzos 1968 [1551-1557]:13; cf. Roe! 1966:26.
119.See Bingham 1979:21, 23.
120.See Beorchia 1985; Reinhard 1993, 1999a, 2005; Reinhard and Ceruti 2000 and n.d.; see also Astere and Reinhard 2003 for Pacharusan.
121.Reinhard 2005.

REFERENCES

.

122.Bingham 1979:48.
123.Cabo 1964 [1653]:169-186; see also Sherbondy 1982:99-101.
124.Sherbondy 1982:144.
125.Ansion 1987:140.
126.Sherbondy 1982; Wrighc and Valencia 2000.
127.Urcon 1981:69.
128.Urcon 1981:68.
129.Urcon 1981:62, 70.
130.Urcon 1981:64.
131.Berconio 1984 [1612]:386; Zuidema 1982a:439.
132.Urcon 1981:64.
133.Gow and Condori 1982:60.
134.Sanchez 1984:267; cf. Isbell 1978:43.
135.Sallnow 1987:129
136.Cf. Squier 1877:400-401.
137.Cieza 1977 [1553]:106.
138.See Zuidema 1982a:440.
139.Urcon 1981:202.
140.Reinhard 1990a: 168.
141.Rowe 1946:316.
142.Malina 1959 [1575]:57.
143.Rosrworowski 1983:38-39.
144.See Whice 1984-85:143.
145.Randall 1987; Reinhard 1985a, 2005; Urcon 1981; Zuidema 1982a.
146.Bingham 1979:58.
147.John Hyslop, personal communication 1989.
148.Sherbondy 1982:139.
149.Polo de Ondegardo 1916 [1571]:l 10.
150.Polo de Ondegardo 1916 [1571]:l 10.
151.Sherbondy 1982:139.
152.See Reinhard 1985a:307; Valderrama and Escalance 1988:104.
153.See Marcínez 1976:301n25; Reinhard 1985a:306.
154.Bingham 1979:63, 66.
155.Bingham 1979:66.
156.See Giraulc 1988:55; Menzel 1977:54.
157.See Cabo 1964 [1653]:181; Gow and Condori 1982:61.
158.Gow and Condori 1982:7.
159.Cabo 1964 [1653]:161; Duviols 1974-1976:280;Tschopik 1951:195.
160.See Agustinos 1918 [1557]:22; Avila 1975 [1608]:62; Duviols 1974-1976:280;

Tschopik 1951:195.

161.Cieza 1977 [1553]:105.
162.Rowe 1979:35.
163.Gow and Condori 1982:13.
164.MacLean 1986:97.

160

.

165.Bingham 1979:52.
166.Rowe 1946:328n39; Markham 1856:181.
167.Uhle 1910:330.
168.See Dearborn and Schreiber 1986:34-35; Hawkins 1973:164.
169.See, e.g., Müller 1982:31-32.
170.David Dearborn, personal communication 1989.
171.Roben Randall, personal communicacion 1989.
172.Silverman-Proust 1988:228.
173.See Rowe 1946:328n39.
174.Guarnan Poma 1956 [1613]:185.
175.See, e.g., Angles 1988:3:117.
176.Roben Randall, personal communication 1989.
177.Bingham 1979:87; Dearborn and Schreiber 1986:22.
178.See Dearborn and Schreiber 1986:22-24.
179.Dearborn and Schreiber 1986:24.
180.Gow and Condori 1982:15; Unan 1981:119.
181.John Carlson, personal communication 1989.
182.See Bingham 1979:89.
183.See Bascien 1978:157; Grieder 1982:133. Guchce 1990:194.
184.Waisbard 1979:235.
185.MacLean 1986:40; Waisbard 1979:235.
186.Ansían 1982:245; Palomino 1984:86.
187.Duviols 1986:55.
188.Paz 1988:221; Jean Jacques Decoster, personal communication 1988.
189.Bastien 1978:xix; Reinhard and Sanhueza 1982:23.
190.See Paz 1988:219-221.
191.Astete and Orellana 1988.
192.Dearborn et al 1987.
193.MacLean 1986:113.
194.MacLean 1986:115.
195.Avila 1975 [1608]:46; Isbell 1978:139, 143.
196.Sherbondy 1982:143; Dumezil and Duviols 1974-1976:174.
197.Reinhard 1985a:307-308.
198.Favre 1967:132.
199.Nachcigall 1966:278; Szeminski andAnsion 1982:198.
200.Bingham 1975:170.
201.Wright and Valencia 2000:21-24; see also Cabo 1964 [1653]:169-186; MacLean

1986:123.

202.See Bingham 1913:473; Salazar 2004:47.
203.Verano 2003: 114; cf. MacLean 1986:85.
204.Lyon 1984:4; Rowe 1987:16.
205.Rowe 1987:20.
206.Gasparini and Margolies 1980:87-88; see also MacLean 1986:85-86. For che moac see Wrighc and Valencia 2000:46.

REFERENCES

.

207.See Fejos 1944:60.
208.Fejos 1944:20-28.
209.Fejos 1944:28.
210.MacLean 1986:126.
211.See Reinhard 1985a:303.
212.Fejos 1944:49-51.
213.MacLean 1986:71.
214.See MacLean 1986:104; Ro6ert Randall, personal communication 1989.
215.See Bingham 1975 and 1979 [1930]; Fejos 1944; Kendall 1988; MacLean 1986.
216.See MacLean 1986:104.
217.MacLean 1986:125.
218.See MacLean 1986:34.
219.Leoncio Vera, personal communicacion 1989.
220.Arriaga 1968 [1621):119.
221.David Dear6orn, personal communicacion 1989.
222.Bingham 1975:141.
223.Malville, Thomson, and Ziegler 2004a, 20046; see also Drew 1984.
224.Reinhard 19906.
225.Kendall 1988:472; cf. Bingham 1975:142.
226.Bingham 1975:142.
227.Bingham 1975 and 1979 [1930]; Kendall 1988; MacLean 1986.
228.Angles 1988:3:58; Bingham 1979:233.
229.Kendall 1988:462; Whice 1984-85:136.
230.Berger et al. 1988.
231.See Kendall 1988:473; Rowe 1987:16; Valcárcel 1979:26.
232.Rowe 1987; repu6lished wirh original text in Rowe 1990.
233.Cobo 1964 [1653]:79; see also Rowe 1946:206.
234.Betanzos 1968 [1551-1557].
235.Rowe 1979.
236.Gow 1974:56-57.
237.Sher6ondy 1982.
238.See Beorchia 1985; Duviols 1967; Reinhard 1985a, 2005.
239.Rowe 1987:16.
240.Kendall 1988:474.
241.MacLean 1986:129.
242.Cobo 1964 [1653]:79.
243.Rowe 1987:16, 1990:143.
244.Co6o 1964 [1653):160.
245.SeeAgustinos 1918 [1557];Avila 1975 [1608].
246.Marzal 1971:251; Roe! 1966:26.
247.Reinhard 19856:408.
248.Rowe 1987:16.
249.Roscworowski 1983: 138.
250.See Eaton 1916:94-95.

162

.

251.See Bingham 1989:351; Verano 2003:81-84
252.Bingham 1989:351.
253.Bingham 1979:233.
254.Hemming 1970:492-499; Lee 1985:25-26, 47-48.
255.See Kendall 1988:472.
256.Wais6ard 1979:134.
257.MacLean 1986:129; Rowe 1987:16, 1990:142.
258.Bingham 1916:471; Kauffmann-Doig 2005:63; MacLean 1986:129-130.
259.Gasparini and Margolies 1980:89.
260.Bingham 1916:471.
261.Eliade 1963:99-100; see also Valcárcel 1979:51.
262.Agustinos 1918 [1557]; Avila 1975 [1608]; Duviols 1967; see also Reinhard 19856,

1988, and 1990a.

7.See Anders 1986; Reinhard 1990a.
8.Randall 1987:82; Sher6ondy 1982:144.
9.Randall 1987.
10.See Reinhard 19856, 1988, and 1990a.

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1984 La Coca en las Relaciónes Inter-ecológicas. Revista del Museo e Instituto de Arqueología 23:261-269, Cuzco.

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1968 [1571] Relación de Antigüedades deste reyno del Perú. Biblioteca de Autores Españoles, Madrid.

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1998 Processual, Postprocessual, and Interpretative Archaeologies. In Reader in Archaeological 7heory: Post-Processual and Cognitive Approaches, edited by David Whitley, 69-95. Routledge, London.

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1982 The Canal Systems of Hanan Cuzco. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Illinois, Urbana.

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1877 Peru: Incidents of Travel and Exploration in the Land of the Incas. Harper and Brothers, New York.

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Other Resources
SELECTED WEBSITES
l. A listing ofWeb sites about the Incas: www.ex.ac.uk/~RDavies/inca/links.html

2.Machu Picchu Resources Page: www.tylwythteg.com/machupit.html
3.Virtual tour of Machu Picchu: www.machupicchu360.com
4.Machu Picchu-Virtual Tour Guide: www.dennisadamsseminars.com/machu -picchu/?

5. Machu Picchu-World Heritage Site: www.wcmc.org.uk/protected_areas/data/wh/ macchu.html

6. The Inca Trail and Machu Picchu: www.raingod.com/angus/Gallery/Phoros/ SouthAmerica/Peru/Inca Trail.html

8.Photographic virtual reality visit to Wiñay Wayna: www.stanford.edu/ -johnrick/Inca/ WW/pages/WinayWayna.html

9. Johan Reinhard’s personal website: www.johanreinhard.org
SELECTED FILMS
Many films about the Incas include scenes taken at Machu Picchu (e.g., Inca: Secrets of the Ancestors [Time/Life TV, 1995]; and Searchingfor Lost Worlds: Machu Picchu [DiscoveryTV, 1997]). Films that focus on the importance of sacred landscape among the Incas include rhe following:

l. Inca Mummies: Secrets of a Lost World (National Geographic TV, 2002) documents the finds of intact Inca burials near Lima and the author’s discoveries of Inca mummies on mountain summits.

2. Mystery of the Inca Mummy (Nacional Geographic TV, 1996) is abouc che aurhor’s 1995 expedítíon to Mount Amparo and laborarory work undertaken wich che Inca Ice Maiden.

3. Ice Mummies (National Geographic TV, 1999) deals with che author’s discoveries on Mount Llullaillaco.

4. Frozen in Time (Nova, 1997) is about che author’s 1996 expedicion to Mount Sara Sara.

5. Light at the ~dge of the World: Sacred Geography (90th Parallel Producrions, 2007) examines concepts about che sacred landscape of che Incas, including Machu Picchu.

6. Digital video footage of Machu Picchu is available from rhe author: johanreinhard@ hotmail.com.
180
Glossary
*Word origins are indicaced in parencheses: S for Spanish, Q for Quechua, and A for Aymara.
aclla (Q). A woman selected for royal service ac a young age, who generally was sequestered

in special buildings. acsu (aqsu) (Q). A dress.

alpaca (Q). Lama paco. A domesticaced species of Andean camelid wich fine wool. altiplano (S). lhe high placeau becween che eascern and western ranges of Peru and

Bolivia.

altomisayoq (S, Q). lhe most learned and powerful ritual specialisc. Ampato (A, Q). A mouncain in souchern Peru.

anti (Q). Eascern foresced area.

Antisuyu (Q). lhe eascern quarcer of che Inca Empire.

apacheta (apachita) (Q). Mounds of scones, normally found on high places along a road, which are used ricually.

apu (Q). A tradicional nacure spiric, ofcen a mouncain; frequencly used in che Inca period

to denote a Lord or person of high auchoricy.

Ausangate (Q). A snowcapped mouncain to che easc of Cuzco. awki (Q). A general term for mouncain deities in che central Andes.

ayllu (Q). A social group chac is usually localized and whose members share a common focus.

Aymara (A). An echnic and linguiscic group chac bordered che Quechua-speaking region to che easc and souch of Cuzco.

cancha (Q). See kancha.

capacocha (Q). An Inca ceremony in which sumpcuous offerings were made, including che sacrifice of children.

Capac Raymi (Q). One of che mosc imporcanc of che Inca fescivals, which Cook place ac che December solscice.

ceque (zeque) (Q). lhe word for line used here to mean a conceptualized line, such as

chose chac formed che system of lines cha e radiaced out from Cuzco. ch’alla (A, Q). Offering a libacion.

chasquis (Q). Runners who carried messages for che Incas.

chicha (Awarak). A fermenced beverage, usually made from maize, called aqha in

Quechua.

Chinchaysuyu (Q). lhe norchwestern quarcer of che Inca Empire. chullpa (Q). Funerary tower; burial scruccure.

chumpi (Q). Handwoven belc.

chuño (Q). Freeze-dried pocaco.

chuspa (Q). Bag.

collca (qollqa) (Q). A scorehouse.

coca (Q). Erychroxylon coca. A planc whose leaves concain a mild stimulanc.

GLOSSARY
coya (Q). The principal wife of che Inca ruler. cumbi (Q). Very fine weaving.

curandero (S). A tradicional healer.

curaca (kuraka) (Q). A tradicional leader of a communicy; an indigenous auchoricy. despacho (S). A bundle concaining ritual offerings to nacure spirics; ic is usually burnc. enqa (enqaychu) (Q). A natural objecr, usually a stone, chac resembles a ching it is believed

to represen e and considered to be a repository of its essence. guaca (Q). See huaca.

guanaco (Q). Lama guanicoe. The larger species of che cwo wild camelids of che Andes. hanan pacha (hanaqpacha) (Q). The world above.

huaca (waka or guaca) (Q). A shrine, sacred place, or object. le mighr also refer to a

mereorological phenomenon (e.g., a rainbow) ora feature of che landscape.

Huanacauri (Q). A mouncain near Cuzco considered especially sacred to che Incas. Huayna Picchu (Q). See Machu Picchu.

ichu (Q). Wild bunch grass.

illa (Q). See enqa.

Illapa (Q). Deicy oflightning that che Incas believed concrolled weacher.

Instituto Nacional de Cultura (INC) (S). Nacional lnstitute of Culture, a government body whose responsibilities include overseeing che protection of Peru’s cultural parrimony.

lnti (Q). The sun; che Sun deicy of che Incas.

lnti Raymi (Q). One of che mosr imporranc of che Inca fesrivals, which took place ar che June solsrice.

lntihuatana (Q). A sculpred stone ar Machu Picchu. les name means «hirching post of

che sun.»

kallanka (Q). A long hall.

kancha (cancha) (Q). An enclosure; a group ofbuildings around a patio.

kay pacha (Q). This world; che earth, as opposed to che underworld and che sky. kero (qero) (Q). A vase.

k’intu (Q). An offering of coca leaves.

legua (S). A league, orca. 3.5 miles (5.57 km). llacta (llaqta) (Q). Town.

llama (Q). Lama glama. A domesricared species of Andean camelid. lliclla (Q). Shawl worn by women.

Llullaillaco (Q). A mouncain on che border becween Argentina and Chile.

Machu Picchu (Q). Inca site. The name is derived from machu (older) and picchu (peak), referring to a mountain bordering che site to che south. le is in opposition to Huayna Picchu (young peak), which is a lower peak to che north.

Mamacocha (Q). Mocher lake, usually referring to che ocean. marca (Q!A). Village or town.

misa (S). Ritual offerings on a clorh, originally raken from che Spanish word misa for che Carholic mass, bue also associared wirh mesa (rabie).

mitimaes (Q). Colonisrs sene by che Incas.

mullu (Q). Mainly used to designare Spondylus seashells.
182

ñañaca (Q). Head cloch.

Ollantaytambo (Q). A town of Inca origin chac lies along che Urubamba River in rouce

to Machu Picchu.

pacarina (paqarina) (Q). A sacred place of origin to a group of people. pacha (Q). The world; earch; time.

Pachacuti (Q). Inca emperor crediced wich beginning che expansion of che Inca Empire

and che founding of Machu Picchu as one of his royal estates.

Pachamama (Q). Earch Mocher.

pago (S). Ritual payment to tradicional deities. pampa (Q). Flac plain.

panaca (panaqa) (Q). Group of direcc, royal descendants. paqo (Q). A ritual specialisc.

pirca (Q). A building of stones made wichouc morcar.

Pisac (Q). A town of Inca origin chac includes one of che royal escaces of che emperor

Pachacuci.

Pumasillo (Q). A snowcapped mouncain to che west of Machu Picchu. puna (Q). The high grasslands.

pucara (pukara) (Q). A fortress.

Qoyllur Riti (Rit’i) (Q). A festival in che mountains east of Cuzco.

Quechua (Q). An ethnic and linguistic group chac was originally concencrated in central Peru, including che region of Cuzco; che language spoken by che Incas.

quipu (khipu) (Q). A knocced scring device for use as a mnemonic aid for keeping

records.

Salcantay (Q). A snowcapped mouncain to che souch ofMachu Picchu. saya (Q). A division inco halves.

sierra (S). Mountain range, ofcen referring to che Andean highland region in general. suyu (Q). A quarter; one of che four pares of che Inca Empire.

Tahuantinsuyu (Tawantinsuyu) (Q). The name used by che Incas for cheir empire, literally

meaning che land of four quarters. tambo (Q). A way station.

t’inka (Q). A libacion in which drops ofliquid are Hicked into che air. tinku (Q). Ritual barde; licerally an «encounter.»

torreón (S). Bascion or turrec.

tupu (Q). Shawl pin; ics synonym is also used to designare a measure ofland. ukhupacha (Q). The underworld.

uncu (Q). A tunic worn by males.

urco (Q). A mountain; also used to refer to che male gender.

Urubamba (Q). Name of che river chac flows by Machu Picchu (called Vilcanota in its upper region). Also che name of a town located in che Sacred Valley.

ushnu (usnu) (Q). A raised, stepped placform used in religious and policical contexcs by

che Incas.

Veronica (S). See Waqaywillka. Viracocha (Q). The Inca creacor deicy.

vicuña (Q). Lama vicugna. The smaller of che cwo wild Andean camelids wich exceptionally fine wool.

GLOSSARY
Vilcanota (Q). lhe name of a river (see Urubamba) originating to the east of Cuzco and

also rhe name of an important Inca religious site located at its source. waka (Q). See huaca.

wamani (Q). A term for a mountain deity in rhe central Andes.

Waqaywillka (Huacay Huilque) (Q). A snowcapped mountain to rhe east of Machu Picchu, ofcen called by the Spanish name Veronica.

yacolla (Q). A mande worn my males.

yanantin (Q). A macched pair. Also, che name of a mountain northeast of Machu Picchu.

yunga (Q). Warm region.

About the Author
Johan Reinhard is currendy (2007) an Explorer-in-Residence at che Nacional Geographic Society and a Senior Research Fellow at che Mountain lnstitute, Washington, D.C. Born in Illinois, he undertook undergraduate studies in anthropology at che University of Arizona, befare going on to receive his Ph.D. (1974) in anthropology from che University ofVienna, Austria. During che 1960s and 1970s his field research was focused on culture change and religion in Nepal.

Since 1980 he has conducted research in che Andean countries of Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, and Ecuador. His investigations have focused on Inca ritual sites on mountains and on interpreting che ancient pre-Hispanic ceremonial centers of Machu Picchu, Chavin, Tiahuanaco, and che Nazca Lines (giant desert drawings). In che course of his research on sacred landscape he directed teams chat made more chan 200 ascents above 16,000 feet and discovered more chan 40 high-altitude Inca ritual sices, including che recovery of che Ice Maiden and two other Inca human sacrifices on Mount Amparo (20,700 feet) in 1995. His expeditions in che Andes from 1996 through 1999 led to che discovery of 15 more Inca human sacrifices on six mountains above 18,000 feet, including three perfecdy preserved mummies excavaced at 22,100 feet on Llullaillaco, che world’s highest archaeological site. Time selected his finds of frozen Inca murnmies in 1995 and 1999 as being among che world’s ten most important scientific discoveries for chose years.

Dr. Reinhard has more than seventy publications, including six books, and is a member of numerous organizations, including che American Anthropological Association, che Royal Geographical Society, che Institute of Andean Studies, che Explorers Club, che American Alpine Club, and che lnstitute of Nautical Archaeology. He is a recipient of che 1987 Rolex Award for Encerprise in che field of exploration, and in 1992 he received che Puma de Oro, Bolivia’s highest award in che field of archaeology. In 2002 he was awarded che Explorers Medal of che Explorers Club of New York. His most recent book The Ice Maiden: Inca Mummies, Mountain Gods, and Sacred Sites in the Andes appeared in 2005. He lives in West Virginia.
Email: [email protected] Website: www.johanreinhard.org
4/3/07 9:55:44 AM 1

Inka Unku: Strategy and Design in Colonial Peru

.

Fig. 1. Inka tunic, Peru, lea Valley(?), 1400-1532, Inka key style, tapestry weave, camelid fiber weft, cotton warp, camelid fiber embroidery, 86.5 x 76.8 cm. The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of William R. Carlisle 1957.136.
Fig. 2. The Inka ruler Manco Capac, pen and ink, drawing from El Primer Nueva Coronica y Buen Gobiemo by Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala, c. 1615.

In 1961, the distinguished art historian George Kubler wrote on the extinction of pre-Columbian motifs in colonial art.’ Kubler argued that in the encounter of two distinct cultures, the design, production, and use of indigenous objects is profoundly changed: the most visible or overt forms of the material culture of the vanquished power are usually quickly repressed or destroyed. If anything of a culture was to survive through centuries of foreign domination, he continued, it would be the non-elite objects or traditions. In the central Andes, however, a certain type of highstatus textile, the unku (tunic), proved to be one of the particularly tenacious exceptions to Kubler’s model. Unku, the principal male garment in the Inka culture of the Late Horizon (1476-1532) in Peru, was a sleeveless garment that extended to the knees of the wearer and was worn over a wara (loincloth) (figs. 1, 2). These tunics continued to be produced and worn in certain contexts for several centuries after the arrival of Spaniards in Peru, retaining their role as particularly charged display items.2 The evolution of the appearance and function of this garment type is illustrated here by two tunics in the collection of the Cleveland Museum of Art. By the end of the eighteenth century, unku had become symbols of Inka heritage during the era of rebellion against the Spanish crown.

Inka Unku: Strategy and Design in Colonial Peru
Author: Joanne Pillsbury
Source: Cleveland Studies in the History of Art, Vol. 7 (2002), pp. 68-103

Unku are particularly important in the study of pre- or postconquest Andean society because of their high visibility and symbolic weight. Textiles in general played a high-profile role in the Inka empire, as a key element in ritual and imperial activities.3 Cloth production was part of an economic obligation to the state, a valuable commodity in an empire based on state and kin-based redistribution rather than a market economy. In addition to its more prosaic uses, cloth served as a valued offering for sacrifice. As garments, textiles were symbols of social membership, rank, and prestige. Dress itself was closely bound up with ideas of origin and identity in the pre- Hispanic world, and this close association was further articulated in the tight restrictions placed on costume.

Dress retained its social importance throughout the viceregal period; the fundamental change that occurred was the removal of the strict sumptuary and design laws that had existed under the Inka state. The lifting of these strictures allowed for a period of considerable flexibility in design and social claims.4 Although by the mid colonial period (latter part of the seventeenth century) tunics had largely become part of the regalia of church festivals rather than everyday wear, they remained a symbolically charged garment type. Far from being passive reflectors of cultural «assimilation,» unku were carefully manipulated by Andeans to achieve their own ends. .

Unku in the lnka Empire

High-status unku were made of a fine tapestry fabric known as qompi (usually spelled «cumbi» in the chronicles of the colonial period). The term is a qualitative one, used to distinguish the finer textiles from the coarser cloth known as awasqa.5 The Spanish writers compared qompi to silk.6 In the main, the term most certainly referred to double-faced, interlocked tapestry weave textiles of the kind found in museum collections, including many Inka tunics. Qompi was made with wool from llamas, alpacas, and vicufias (animals in the camelid family), as well as cotton. On occasion the qompi garments would be further enhanced with feathers and gold or shell beads.7 In addition to its use for full-size garments, qompi was used to dress gold, silver, and shell figurines, and for ritual sacrifice.8

Qompi was a carefully controlled commodity in the Inka empire.

Fig. 3. Moche effigy vessel, Peru, AD 200-400, ceramic, 19.1 x 15.9 cm. The Brooklyn Museum of Art, 86.224.170.

From colonial period historical sources we know that the use of qompi was restricted to the nobility,» and limits were placed on the number of camelids an individual could own.» Most unku were probably woven as part of a labor tax obligation to the state.11 This tight control over the materials and the circumstances under which the garments were made is evident in the corpus of extant Inka tunics. As John Rowe demonstrated, tunics in museum collections show a high degree of standardization in size and design. 12 The remarkably small range in the dimensions of the garments (from 71 to 79 cm in width, with slightly more variation in length) and limited range of designs underscores the close engagement the state had in the production and distribution of the garments.

Men particularly skilled in weaving the finest quality cloth were called qompikamayoc. 13 According to historical sources, some women also wove qompi. Cieza de Leon, author of one of the earliest detailed accounts of the Inka, wrote that the garments of the Sapa Inka (paramount ruler) were created by members of the akllakuna (cloistered women).14

Unku were woven on upright looms as rectangles, the warp defining the short dimension. 15 The neck opening was woven rather than cut into the textile. When removed from the loom, the rectangle was folded over at the shoulder line and the sides sewn, leaving space for the arms. Thus, as worn, the warps were horizontal or «sideways.» The majority of the high-status Inka and colonial unku were created by interlocked tapestry, in which the brightly colored weft completely covered the undyed warp, creating designs of rich, saturated color. Some of the finest interlocked tapestry unku of the Inka period have thread counts as high as fifteen warps and one hundred wefts per centimeter. 16 As such, they are of a significantly higher thread count than European tapestry.17 Martin de Muma, writing in the early seventeenth century, notes that qompi was so valued that the Sapa Inka kept it in the royal treasury of his palace along with precious stones and metals. 18.

Fig. 4. Inka tunic, Peru, 1400-1532, diamond waistband style, camelid fiber weft, 91 x 74.5 cm. The Textile Museum, Washington, 1964.12.2.

Outside of the royal family, high-status textiles such as tapestry unku could only be worn by those upon whom the Sapa Inka bestowed the right.19 Festivals such as Capac Raymi (the celebration of the December solstice) were an occasion for the presentation of textiles and other objects such as keros (ritual drinking cups), both as part of the labor tax obligation and as part of a strategic system of gift exchange.» Textiles were given to nobles, allies, or leaders of peoples newly under Inka rule.21 Cloth was bestowed by the Inka as a reward for service in war or administration,» and to ensure loyalty. For example, after the death of the ruler Huayna Capac, his son Huascar attempted to consolidate and affirm his power by bestowing such gifts on local lords.23 The use of textiles to establish and strengthen alliances has an interesting architectural correlate, according to recent research by Teresa Gisbert, Juan Carlos Jemio, and Roberto Montero.24 The decoration of chullpas (funerary structures for high-ranking individuals) in the Rio Lauca area of Bolivia was clearly inspired by Inka unku designs, and Gisbert and colleagues have argued that the act of decorating tombs with such designs proclaimed a link between the Aymara noblemen and Inka royalty.

In a culture without an alphabetic writing system, such garments had a prominent role as bearers of meaning. Accounts and narratives were recorded on a knotted string device known as a quipu. Textiles, especially unku, were allied vehicles for historical discourse. Colonial accounts of the Inka empire speak of ceremonies following the death of a ruler, and the prominent role of unku. Groups would gather in the fields around Cuzco with the clothes and arms of the deceased ruler, and recite the deeds he had done in war and the favors he had performed for the inhabitants of the various provinces.25 Unku, so closely associated with an individual in life, were used upon death as evidence or testimony to his place in history.

Such a close association between identity and dress is also demonstrated by practices in war. Captives taken in battle were stripped of their usual dress and forced to wear a special tunic as a sign of humiliation.» This connection between individual and garment, and indeed the social significance of tunics, is undoubtedly of considerable antiquity in the Andean region, perhaps extending back to the Paracas culture, centuries before the Common Era. Certainly by the time of the Moche culture (AD 100-800) one sees these garments depicted in other media, in a manner suggesting their symbolic importance. In Moche ceramics, modeled figures are portrayed not only wearing similar garments, but also holding examples up, as if to display them (fig. 3).

Unku Design
Fig. 5. Inka tunic, Peru, 1400-1532, black-and-white checkerboard style, camelid fiber weft, 88.3 x 80 cm. Dallas Museum of Art, The Eugene and Margaret McDermott Art Fund, Inc., in honor of Carol Robbins.

Inka unku are characterized by their bold geometric compositions. The overall design structure of the tunics is conventional, usually composed of large, plain blocks of color, with certain areas of elaboration, often a repetition of two or perhaps three motifs. The imagery is highly abstracted in the eyes of modern viewers; veristic animal and human imagery was avoided. Visibility may have played a role in the strong, straightforward compositions of the Inka tunics: one can imagine their effectiveness in distinguishing the wearers on a battlefield or at a festival. The color palette emphasized reds, yellows, ochers, browns, and black, with a more restrained use of green, white, blue, and purple.

There is surprisingly little variation in the designs of Inka tapestry tunics, with most falling into four major types or styles: Inka key (see fig. 1), diamond waistband (fig. 4), black-and-white checkerboard (fig. 5), and tokapu waistband (fig. 6) (tokapu are squares or rectangles contain ing geometric motifs).27 Other styles, such as those featuring an eightpointed star, may be associated with the provinces.» There are also a few tunic styles of which there are only one or two known examples.»

Fig. 6. Inka tunic (partial), Peru, 1400- 1532, tokapu waistband style, camelid fiber weft, w. 79 cm. The Textile Museum, Washington, 1960.13.7.

A fine example of an Inka key tunic is in the collection of the Cleveland Museum of Art (see fig. 1).30 The fabric is a silky tapestry weave, and the side selvages were joined by binding with embroidery. The neck area was carefully finished with additional stitching. The upper two-thirds of the tunic, as it would have been worn, is covered with the Inka key motif woven in two alternating color combinations-red on yellow and yellow on brown-that create a checkerboard pattern. Six plain bands of alternating colors (red and brown) complete the design on the bottom of the tunic. At least nine other Inka key tunics are known from museum collections, making this style among the most numerous of the pre-Hispanic high-status Inka-style tunics.» All the tunics of this type share the same layout: design squares cover the upper two-thirds of the garment and six stripes form the lower section. Variations occur only in the overall number of squares and the colors used.

In Inka tunics, certain areas are reserved for particular elaboration: the waist, neck, and lower border. These areas may have been loci of critical information regarding status or other matters. At least one of these areas had a specific name: in the colonial period, the term atoaki referred to the diagonal rows of small squares in the yoke or neck area of the tunic, but it may have been extended to include the inverted, stepped triangle around the neck of some tunics.32 Lower borders also often received careful attention. For instance, a zigzag of yellow, red, and green frequently was embroidered toward the bottom of checkerboard tunics. In the Cleveland example, this zigzag border is rendered in two shades of yellow, one light and one dark, flanking a central zigzag in red. The importance of this small detail may be understood by its inclusion in representations of tunics, such as the black-and-white checkerboard tunic appearing as a tokapu on an extremely fine tunic in the collection of Dumbarton Oaks (fig. 7 ), or on miniature tunics (fig. 8). Although the importance of these details may be clear, their significance is still not understood.

Contexts, and even designs, for unku are mentioned in the sixteenthand seventeenth-century accounts of the Spanish historians, administrators, and clergy who came to Peru. The design and use of tunics in the Inka empire was affected by numerous factors including geographic location, age, and rank, as well as military, ritual, and calendrical demands.33 Penny Dransart noted that in Inka origin myths, ancestors entered the world fully clothed, and these clothes identified the ethnic origin of the wearer.34 Several chroniclers wrote that in the Inka period costume differed from region to region, and the subjects of the Inka were required to maintain their regional attire wherever they went, so they could be distinguished and identified according to their place in the political organization of the empire. Cobo describes the custom in detail:

The men and women of each nation and province had their insignias and emblems by which they could be identified, and they could not go around without this identification or exchange their insignias for those of another nation, or they would be severely punished. They had this insignia on their clothes with different stripes and colors …. They were so well known by these insignia that on seeing any Indian or when any Indian came before him, the Inca would notice what nation and province the Indian was from; and there is no doubt that this was a clever invention for distinguishing one group from another.35

Fig. 7. Inka tunic, Peru, 1400-1532, camelid fiber weft, 91 x 76 cm. Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, PreColumbian Collection, B-5 1 8.PT. Details of tokapu representing blackand-white checkerboard style tunics with zigzag pattern at bottom.

Several chroniclers mention that special garments were worn for rituals and feasts. Particular attention was paid to the design of unku during the celebrations of Capac Raymi. The sixteenth-century writer Cristobal de Molina describes the attire of young nobles who were to attain the status of manhood during the ceremonies.36 Cieza de Leon also describes these ceremonies, noting that the young man who was to become the Sapa Inka one day wore special garments.37 The mother and sisters of the young man were charged with creating a set of four garments for the investiture ceremony, including a tawny one with a white mantle, an allwhite example, and another in blue.

The goal of finding correspondences between the textual sources on the unku designs and surviving examples of Inka tunics has met with limited success. R. Tom Zuidema, in particular, studied the illustrations in the manuscript of Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala (completed by 1615) (see fig. 2) against tunics in museum collections.38 The Guaman Poma manuscript is an important source, as it is one of the few illustrated sixteenth- or seventeenth-century manuscripts from the Andes. Although his architectural renderings are often cursory, he paid close attention to dress. Using this source, as well as others, Zuidema argued that certain tunic designs may have been associated with specific ritual occasions. For example, he proposed that the kasana motif (a square subdivided into four smaller squares) was associated with rituals of the month of August and September. The four divisions of the kasana, according to Zuidema, may refer to the four divisions or suyu of the Inka empire. Zuidema’s observations are thought-provoking, but they remain a subject of debate.

Of the Inka tunics that survive, the most common is the black-andwhite checkerboard type. John Rowe and Ann Rowe identified ten of these garments, and several others have come to light since the publication of their articles.39 A black-and-white checkerboard pattern covers the body of the Dallas Museum of Art tunic (fig. 5); at the neck, a crimson inverted stepped triangle starts at the shoulders and extends to just above the middle of the tunic; on the lower border, a zigzag of yellow and other colors is embroidered.

Fig. 8. Unwrapped bundle with gold figurine and miniature lnka key style tunic and bag, Peru, 1400-1532. American Museum of Natural History, New York, 41.2/902-905. Tunic (41.2/904),__:,__._ camelid fiber weft, 6.6 x 5.7 cm (folded over).

The black-and-white checkerboard tunics may have some military association. Several early colonial writers describe a checkerboard pattern worn by soldiers. Francisco de Xerez, one of the first Spaniards to enter Peru in 1532 with Francisco Pizarro’s army, notes that the first squadron of Atahualpa’s army at Cajamarca wore livery like a chessboard.’? In the Guaman Poma manuscript, checkerboard tunics are seen on military officers.41 Bold, brightly colored tunics were undoubtedly part of the remuneration given by the Inka to the troops, but they may also have played a part in distinguishing regiments and squadrons on the battlefield. Cobo describes a battle scene:

… when they went to war, it was something to see the large army composed of such a variety of people as there were marching, distributed in various regiments and squadrons; and with these insignias the variety was evident at a distance, and each group was easily identified by its general and the rest of the field officers, and in battle it was impossible for the nation that showed the most valor to be overlooked.42

Fig. 9. The lnka ruler Viracocha Inka, pen and ink, drawing from El Primer Nueva Cor6nica y Buen Gobierno by Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala, c. 1615.

The black-and-white checkerboard and the Inka key tunics appear to be related. 43 One of each of these two types were found together in the same burial in Nasca, one of the few instances where we have reliable information on the archaeological context of Inka tunics. 44 Both the Inka key motif and small representations of a black-and-white checkerboard tunic appear as tokapu on the Dumbarton Oaks tunic (fig. 7). The Inka key and black-and-white checkerboard tunics have a very narrow size range, particularly in comparison with the rest of the corpus of Inka tunics, thus demonstrating the sort of standardization to be expected in the creation of a relatively large number of «military issue» garments. This is not to say these garments were remotely standard attire for the majority of soldiers, however. The high quality of the weaving suggests that they were given to individuals at the higher end of a military hierarchy, or to those who had particularly distinguished themselves in battle.

Fig. 10. lnka tunic, Peru, lea Valley, 1400-1532, camelid fiber weft, 105.4 x 78.7 cm. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, The Michael C. Rockefeller Memorial Collection, Bequest of Nelson A. Rockefeller, 1979 (1979.206.1131).

The Inka key textiles represent the next largest corpus of pre- Hispanic Inka tunics. John Rowe and Ann Rowe identified seven full-size examples of this type and two miniatures; several others have come to light.45 An eighth full-size example is in the Museum voor Volkerkunde, Rotterdam, and a fragment is in the Amano Museum, Lima.» A ninth full-size garment was found recently, in a spectacular discovery atop Cerro Llullaillaco in Argentina. 47 Provincial variation of this style, where the upper portion of the tunic is divided into four quadrants, is in the Textile Museum, Washington.»

The Inka key style tunics may have also had a military association, and indeed Tom Cummins has suggested that the motif itself represents crossed bones.49 If these two tunic styles are indeed associated with the military, it must be emphasized again that these garments would have been military attire in the way a five-star general’s dress uniform is: they were for a select few, and worn on important occasions. It is also of interest that this type of tunic could have been worn by royalty. In a version of the Martin de Murua manuscript now in a private collection in Ireland, an Inka ruler wears a variation on the standard Inka key tunic. 50 If this portrait is an accurate representation of what a ruler might wear, and not merely based on tunics that might have still been around in the early seventeenth century, it may be that the tunic refers to the king’s prowess on the battlefield.

The recent find of an Inka key tunic on Cerro Llullaillaco, however, suggests that the meanings and associations of this design may be more complex. This tunic was found draped over the shoulder of a young girl who had been sacrificed. Johan Reinhard, who found the mountain sacrifice, suggested that either it had been her father’s tunic, which he left to accompany her to the realm of the gods, or it was an offering to the gods in itself.51 This find underscores the complexity of understanding the use and significance of specific designs. A single tunic type may have been used in several different contexts, and have had multiple symbolic associations.

Miniature versions of these types of tunics exist in several collections (fig. 8).52 Full-size garments are replicated in careful detail in garments measuring only six to seven centimeters in length. For example, the miniature tunic illustrated in fig. 8-made to dress a metal figurineis a tiny version of an Inka key tunic, complete with the zigzag border at the bottom. The Inka key design is rendered in an abbreviated fashion. Not all the miniature tunics were necessarily fashioned for figurines, however. It is possible that some were offerings in themselves, placed in wakas (sacred monuments or places) and graves.»

Unku with tokapu designs (fig. 6) are less common in the sample of extant Inka tunics. This rarity may relate to their role as very high-status, perhaps royal, indicators. Cieza de Leon recounts one of the origin myths of the Inka, noting that they wore special garments «of the finest wool of many different colors which they call tucapu, which in our language means ‘king’s robes.’ «54 John Rowe identified only three examples of an uncontested pre-Hispanic date.55 In the Guaman Poma manuscript, tokapu are depicted on the garments of the Inka royal family.56 Although Guaman Poma most commonly depicts a tunic with three bands of tokapu (fig. 2 ), he also shows rulers’ tunics with a single tokapu band or entirely covered with tokapu (fig. g). The Dumbarton Oaks tunic is the only extant complete example of this allover tokapu style. As Rebecca Stone-Miller has argued, the extraordinary quality of the weaving combined with the iconography strongly suggests that this garment was made to be worn by royalty.57

There are also a number of tunics considered provincial Inka in style that date to the Late Horizon. Most of them are from the coast of Peru, and show greater variation in technique as well as design. 58 Two tunics with crescent-headed figures in the yoke area, for example, were probably made on the north coast.59 The figure type has more in common with Chimu iconography, although the dimensions of the tunics suggest that they were made after the Inka conquest of this region (Chimu male garments are shorter and wider than Inka ones). One type, featuring an eight-pointed star, does not seem to continue in the colonial period.» Others, however, continue in a modified form. For example, a tunic from the lea Valley has a pair offelines on the upper portion (fig. 10).61 Pairs of cats, although smaller and in different styles, become a favored motif in the viceregal period.

Unku in the Colonial Period
Fig. 11. Colonial period nobleman, pen and ink, drawing from El Primer Nueva Coronica y Buen Gobierno by Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala, c. 16!5.

Unku continued to be made and worn in the colonial period. One of the earliest textual accounts of the use of unku after the fall of the lnka empire concerns the lnka rulers who fled Cuzco in the early years following the Spanish takeover of their capital. Titu Cusi Y upanqui and his brother, Thupa Amaru, two of the last Sapa lnkas to rule from Vilcabamba (their mountain refuge), are both described wearing unku in 1569.62 If the descriptions are accurate, there has already been a change in the traditional designs, at least in the choice of material. For instead of the usual tapestry, Titu Cusi Yupanqui was wearing a tunic of blue damask, and Thupa Amaru one of crimson velvet.

Fig. 12. The lnka ruler Tupac Yupanqui, pen and ink with colored washes, drawing from Historia general del Peru by Martin de Murua, c. 16u- 13; leaf size 28.9 x 20 cm. The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles, 83.MP.159, fol. 47v.

For the colonial period we enjoy a richer set of illustrations depicting garments. The Inka avoided veristic representations of most things, including dress. The earliest depictions of tunics ( outside of small, schematic representations on lnka ceramics) are in the manuscripts of Guaman Poma and of Martin de Murua (completed between 16n and 1616).63 These manuscripts include both detailed descriptions and drawings. The Guaman Poma drawings are in black-and-white (figs. 2, 9, u), but they often include indications of colors, whereas the Murua illustrations are watercolors (fig. 12 ). Guaman Poma seems to have been quite sensitive to the differences in pre-Hispanic and colonial dress, and his drawings are probably relatively reliable. lnka-style tunics also are seen on occasion in portraits of the lnka nobility in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,64 and they are prominent in a well-known series of paintings depicting the festival of Corpus Christi in Cuzco.65

While, in general, descendants of lnka nobility assumed Hispanic dress in order to ease their incorporation into the dominant group,66 at least on certain occasions lnka-style unku were worn both by descendants of lnka nobility and by those claiming to be descendants of lnka nobility. In some colonial portraits, such as the eighteenth-century portrait of Don Alonso Chiguan Topa now in the Museo lnka of the Universidad Nacional San Antonio Abad del Cusco (no. 042-C), lnka nobles are attired in lnka-style costume.67 Although his attire is clearly reminiscent of pre-Hispanic dress (he wears a tunic), there are a number of significant differences, including trousers and gold ornaments at the knee.

The traditional manner of wearing unku with only a wara underneath did not suit the Spanish idea of proper dress, and in the colonial period breeches were included under the tunics (fig. u). In the portraits, the illustrations of Guaman Poma, and to a certain extent the examples of colonial tunics themselves, it is clear that the dimensions of tunics changed in the colonial period: tunics were generally shorter and slightly wider than the standard pre-Hispanic proportions.» This alteration would allow for wearing trousers under the unku-a shorter length would facilitate movement, and appease the Spaniards and their ideas of decency. In other examples, the problem of tunic-over-trousers is resolved by creating slits up the tunic’s side for ease of movement. This is true of a particularly fine tunic in the collection of the Museo de America in Madrid (fig. 13). The presence of such slits, as well as the distinctive color combination (see below), allow us to state with considerable confidence this tunic was made in the colonial period.»

Unku continued to be woven in the colonial period, despite the decline of such traditional groups of weavers as the akllakuna. Qompi retained its value as a high-status material, and at least through the end of the sixteenth century, tunics and other textiles continued to be used in much the same fashion as before the arrival of Europeans. In some cases, Spaniards slotted into pre-Hispanic traditions, and textiles were bestowed as gifts: the encomendero (a Spanish holder of territory or encomienda, to whom its inhabitants owe tribute) Diego Maldonado gave fine lnka and Spanish cloths to the kurakakuna (Andean nobles) of his encomienda.»

Pre-Hispanic tunics were often well cared for by families, and undoubtedly were taken out and worn on certain occasions. New tunics were also commissioned. Acosta notes that as late as the last quarter of the sixteenth century, mummies were given new garments.71 In the seventeenth century, tunics were considered more as festive attire, and were no longer the everyday dress of the urban elite. Still, the value accorded traditional textile types clearly endured. Even in the eighteenth century, textiles «of ancient design» were recorded on clandestine mummies that were being cared for by members of their lineage. 72

Fig. 13. lnka colonial tunic, Peru, 17th-18th century(?), camelid fiber weft, 92 x 81 cm. Museo de America, Madrid, no. 14501.

The use of tunics took on a new life in the colonial period as well, as part of the regalia of schools and church rituals, especially in Cuzco. For instance, schoolboys in Cuzco wore camisetas (tunics), «conservando el traje de los naturales [maintaining the indigenous costume],» and, on occasion, traditional Andean dress would be worn at church festivals.» Both schoolboys and adults wore Inka-style tunics in church processions in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, judging from both textual accounts and paintings. 74 In the Corpus Christi series of paintings from Cuzco ( dated to the last quarter of the seventeenth century), standard bearers are depicted in Inka-style regalia, including tokapu waistband tunics. In the early eighteenth century, the French traveler Amedee Frezier writes of celebrations of the festival of the Virgin Mary, noting that the Indians paraded in the ancient costumes of the Inka in all Peruvian cities. 75

Unku were also used to dress religious statuary. In the early seventeenth century, wooden images of Christ were dressed as Inka rulers.76 Saints were also adorned in Inka-style clothing: in the early eighteenth century, an image of a patron saint in Cuzco was dressed in an embroidered tunic and mantle.» A small (77 x 27 cm) tunic now in a private collection was probably used for such a purpose.78 The dressing of religious statuary in Inka-style garments continued through the last quarter of the eighteenth century. It was only in the wake of Tupac Amaru II’s rebellion against the Spanish crown, in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, that the use of these garments was seen as a real political threat.79

Although it may seem surprising that the colonial authorities allowed such an important pre-Hispanic tradition to continue (at least until the late eighteenth century), there are several reasons why these garments may have been allowed, and why early objections to the use of unku gave way to apparent indifference by the mid colonial period. The sixteenthcentury viceroy Francisco de Toledo was a vigorous foe of the wearing of unku. He clearly recognized the potential importance of these tunics as cultural symbols and tried to curtail their use.» Overall, however, in the early colonial period, whether or not colonial authorities recognized the importance of textiles to Andeans, they may have considered them far less a challenge to authority than other pre-Hispanic traditions such as the veneration of wakas. These shrines or sacred sites suffered intensive destruction at the hands of the church. Colonial authorities may have seen wearing unku as part of the maintenance of social distinctions and infrastructures, and therefore useful to the colonial order. The Spanish administration, after all, supported the kuraka system, with its heavy emphasis on hereditary descent from Inka royalty. Similarly, in a church context, the use of these textiles may have helped the clergy convey aspects of Christian belief to Andean congregations. For example, dressing a statue of Christ in a high-status or indeed royal-style tunic would have helped convey the idea of «Christ as king» to an indigenous understanding of the Sapa Inka. Until the last quarter of the eighteenth century, the notion of costume as a political threat was not much of an issue. After Viceroy Toledo and before Tupac Amaru II, unku were perhaps seen as a relatively innocuous reference to a distant past.81

Colonial Unku Design

Relatively few technical changes were introduced in weaving unku in the colonial period. Textiles continued to be made until the end of the period, using for the most part the same techniques and materials that were used in pre-Hispanic times. Among the few changes were the introduction of sheep’s wool, silk, and metal-wrapped yarns, all used alongside the traditional camelid fiber.82 Obrajes (workshops) were instituted for the large-scale production of plain weave and twill yardage on Europeanstyle treadle looms, but the traditional methods of the qompikamayoc continued for the creation of fine native-style cloth throughout the colonial period. On the whole, however, colonial garments have lower thread counts.83 This decrease in fineness may have initially been related to an easing of standards formerly imposed in the Inka empire, but later it was more likely desire to achieve a certain visual effect at less effort or cost. The colonial tunics are also generally shorter and a bit wider than their pre-Hispanic counterparts, as mentioned above. Greater changes, however, are evident in the designs of the tunics.

Fig. 14. Inka colonial tunic (side A), Peru, late ifith+rdth century(?), camelid fiber weft, 88.g x 73.7 cm. Private collection.
Fig. 15. Inka colonial tunic (side B), Peru, late 16th-18th century(?), camelid fiber weft, 88.g x 73.7 cm. Private collection.

Details of combatant lions (left) and double-headed eagle.

Fig. 16. Inka early colonial tunic, Peru, ifith century(?), camelid fiber weft, 92 x 72 cm. The Field Museum, Chicago, no. 1534.

In his insightful 1979 study of Inka tapestry tunics, John Rowe mentioned the possibility that a number of tunics generally thought of as Inka in style may indeed be of a colonial date.84 As Rowe points out, many objects in an Inka style, but known to have been made after the arrival of Spaniards, show no trace of European influence. How then does one distinguish those made before the conquest from those made in the colonial era? Taking up his challenge, I have sought to separate and identify the corpus of colonial Inka-style tunics. Using tunics of clear colonial manufacture,85 I have elsewhere established a series of design features that may allow us to identify colonial tunics in the absence of new technical features or European iconography.86

 

The prevailing change in the colonial period is the greater variety in the number and type of motifs used, relative to the size of the corpus. The colonial corpus is quite small, with only about a dozen reasonably complete examples: the pre-Hispanic sample is more than twice that size. Restrictions that the Inka once carefully enforced over the design and use of qompi largely disappeared with the dismantling of the Inka state apparatus in the early colonial period. The qompikamayoc could now weave tapestry on commission, and the design could be specified by the customer.87 The Andean nobility wasted no time in ordering more elaborate garments than they had been allowed under the preconquest regulations. Unku were still highly valued and recognized, and they provided an appropriate vehicle for status claims in this period of considerable social mobility. Power and wealth were no longer determined strictly by birth, and Andeans were finding new ways to advance within colonial society.88 Textiles became valuable tools in establishing an advantageous identity.

While the degree of Hispanization of dress varied across social strata and through time, there was a strong incentive to retain the high-status indigenous style of dress, at least on certain occasions.89 In large part, a kuraka’s right to office was based on his Inka ancestry.» The Spanish colonial authorities, while eliminating parts of the highest echelon of pre-Hispanic Inka society, left the lower levels intact. Power and status were negotiated through the kuraka system, much of which was based on genealogical associations with Inka royalty. Members of the kurakakuna were exempt from taxes and personal service, and they held other special privileges. Andeans who broke entirely with their culture were not as successful; those who succeeded in colonial society played on their prestige as part of the Inka royal house.91 There are numerous examples in the sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries of individuals claiming descent from Inka emperors in order to improve their situation in colonial society.92 In the early seventeenth century, Guaman Poma complained that even a humble Andean steward could wear the tunic of an Inka lord.93 Although Guaman Poma argued against these false kurakas, he himself was guilty of elevating his own position in society, changing his initial title of cacique (kuraka) to prencipe (prince) in the final emendation of his manuscript.94

Fig. 17. Inka colonial tunic, Peru, late ifith century, camelid fiber weft, 98 x 85 cm. American Museum of Natural History, New York, B/1502.

Unku were carefully manipulated as part of the social strategies of the period. While retaining the essential design structure of the pre-Hispanic unku, the compositions were aggrandized, and new, European elements were incorporated into the Inka design framework.» Critical to this transformation is the principle that in order for the new claims to be understood, the design must remain «readable» according to the model of preHispanic imperial design. Therefore, the transformation did not involve a dramatic change in the basic elements of the overall design, but the insertion of new imagery into pre-existing structures and the multiplication of critical Inka motifs.

 

The retention of the basic design structure through the colonial period may have been related to more profound reasons as well: the actual structure may have been associated with specific meanings that are not currently known. The tunics and their designs may have other associations, such as references to divine powers and proclaiming one’s right to rule. The garments cover the vulnerable core of the body, and may have been seen to function apotropaically, with the wearer covered in divine attributes.

In addition to the occasional, minor technical introductions and alterations in size mentioned above, there are distinctions in composition and color. In composition, one might characterize the change as one of aggrandizement. Inka symbols of status are doubled up, and European status motifs are inserted into traditional designs. As noted above, in the pre-Hispanic unku the areas of elaboration were carefully controlled: solid color fields were left undecorated and a limited number of motifs repeat in specific areas, such as the neck, waist, and lower border. As the demand for standardization relaxed in the colonial period, these areas were enlarged to emphasize and include more detail, more information (figs. 14, 15). The rows of diagonal stepped bands at the neck increase in number; tokapu, which were comparatively rare in pre-Hispanic unku, became profuse and occur nearly everywhere, including the yoke area and side embroidery.» In pre-Hispanic examples, the yoke contained atmost a pair of opposing figures. In the colonial period, by contrast, the yoke was often filled with scattered motifs. In some colonial examples, opposing figures were rendered as European heraldic animals (figs. 14, 15). Few unelaborated blocks of color are left, with European and Andean imagery scattered across the design fields.

Fig. 18. Inka colonial tunic, Peru, shortly after 1589(?), camelid fiber weft, 98 x 77 cm. American Museum of Natural History, New York, B/1500.

In the colonial unku, the overall visual impression is of a dense packing of imagery. The field is used to its fullest in the repetition of small motifs; few spaces are left unadorned. For example, in the Museo de America tunic (see fig. 13), the essential pre-Hispanic lnka design traditions are evident, such as the checkerboard color patterning, detailed lower border, tokapu waistband, and triangular yoke arrangement. These elements, however, are recombined in a way that would have been unlikely under the strict control of production in the Inka period. The only area left unelaborated on the tunic is the inverted triangle of the neck area, which is inscribed by an eleven-band border of alternating colors. Tokapu is now included in the lower border as well as at the waist, and the main field is filled with finely detailed botanical imagery.97

As would be expected, certain pre-Hispanic unku styles do not continue to any great extent in the colonial period. The lnka key and blackand-white checkerboard unku (see figs. 1, 5), for example, were among the most numerous of the pre-Hispanic sample and apparently had a close association with the lnka military. It is not surprising, therefore, that they were not continued to any large degree in the colonial period.

Fig. 19. Fragment of Inka colonial tunic, Peru, late 16th-17th century(?), camelid fiber weft. American Museum of Natural History, New York, B/1505.

The dismantling of the Inka army obviated a need or desire to continue such designs. There are two possible exceptions: a tunic in the collection of the Field Museum (fig. 16), and another, current location unknown.98 In either the red yoke or the lower border, the tunics include butterflies, which are more common in colonial than pre-Hispanic tunics. Guaman Poma illustrates them on the yoke area of the tunic of a colonial gentleman (see fig. u), and an American Museum of Natural History colonial tunic (fig. 17) includes butterflies rendered in the style of European tapestry in the yoke area.99 The significance of the butterfly is not clear, but as a natural symbol of resurrection, it may have had resonance in both cultures. Although black-and-white checkerboard tunics are not well represented in the colonial corpus, they do appear on occasion on the painted keros of the colonial period.100 These representations, however, seem to occur most often in the depictions of battle scenes, particularly the conquest. I know of no recognizably colonial tunics with the Inka key or the diamond waistband designs.

Conversely, certain designs, such as those previously associated with royalty, were greatly favored in the colonial period. For example, tokapu waistband tunics form a substantial part of the known corpus of colonial unku. As mentioned above, in the absence of restrictions, the person commissioning the piece was free to use the pre-Hispanic indicators of royalty in their own status claims. And indeed no space is lost on most of these tunics. For example, the tunic illustrated in figures 14 and 15 includes a tokapu awaki, tokapu waistband, and tokapu embroidery along the sides and the lower border. The fields above and below the waistband are covered with flowers (including perhaps the kantuta; a flower associated with the Inka royal house), and representations of an Inka helmet (uma chuku).101

Fig. 20. Inka colonial tunic, Peru, in lnka culture, precipitating a distinct tum away from Hispanic design in certain types of objects.112 This issue of dating, therefore, remains one fraught with difficulties.

In addition to Inka imagery, certain European motifs were incorporated into unku designs. Heraldic and decorative motifs were woven into the existing Inka format, usually following the traditional areas of elaboration such as the neck area and the lower border. Andeans quickly recognized the significance of European heraldry and embraced certain motifs with equal alacrity. The European elements were selected to correspond with pre-Hispanic imagery or interests. For example, the weavers and the commissioners of unku opted for designs such as heraldic felinesimagery that spoke to Inka as well as European concerns. Guaman Poma used a European eagle and lion to refer to the falcon and puma, animals important in the Huanuco area of his ancestors. 102 On a number of tunics, opposing felines are rendered in the style of European heraldry. The tunic illustrated in figures 14 and 15, for example, includes combatant lions (rampant lions placed face to face) in the style of the Spanish arms of Leon on one side in the neck area, and a double-headed eagle in the style of the arms of the Habsburgs on the other. The tunic joins two types of animals, feline and avian, of importance to both Inka and European audiences. The European and Andean also commingle in another tunic that, at first glance, seems entirely within the design canon of the finest pre-Hispanic unku (fig. 18). Tokapu-like rectangles at the lower border are filled with repetitions of a passant lion ( up-ended into rampant posture) and pairs of figures drawn from both lnka colonial motifs and European vocabularies. 10~ In other cases, the imagery is closer to Andean traditions, and the feline is rendered with the spots of an Andean jaguar (fig. 19). 104 The tunics do not, however, include other common European textile motifs such as urns, baskets, and fruit-items commonly found on wall hangings and other textiles of this era. So it is quite clear that motifs were selected for their meaning, in this case for their association with power and nobility.

 

Fig. 21. lnka colonial tunic (half), Peru, late 17th-18th century(?), camelid fiber weft, 84 x 69 cm overall. The Field Museum, Chicago, no. 3397

The use of color also was distinctive in the colonial period. PreHispanic examples emphasized yellow, red, and brown, with a more sparing use of white, black, and green. Blue is uncommon. This color palette changes in the colonial period. Yellow, dark red, and brown were no longer favored, and tunics were woven using a greater amount of blue, pink, red, and purple. White also became increasingly popular as a background color (figs. 17, 20, 21). The increased use of blue is understandable from both an Andean and a European perspective. Although blue was used more extensively on the coast in the pre-Inka periods, it is possible that in certain areas and at certain times blue may have been particularly highly valued and its use indeed restricted.!» Susan Bergh has noted that in Middle Horizon tapestry tunics, predecessors of the Inka unku, blue is often associated with particularly high thread counts, the latter a marker of fineness and value. 106 As noted above, blue tunics and white tunics were associated with royalty in Cieza de Leon’s chronicle.!» Guaman Poma, as well, was quite specific in describing the colors of tunics worn by certain individuals. Red, blue, and white are the colors he most often used to indicate tunics of members of the royal family. In the colonial period, the use of blue is positively profligate. Again, in keeping with this trend toward unrestricted status signifiers in the colonial period, there may have been an increased demand for recognizably royal tunics. Undoubtedly, other factors also contributed. Andeans certainly understood markers of European status and may have favored blue because of its association with royalty in Europe as well as its potential importance in the Andes.

As with many other details of these colonial tunics, color may be seen as an area in which there is a sophisticated negotiation between European and Andean values.

Fig. 22. lnka colonial tunic (half), Peru, late 16th-17th century(?), tapestry weave, camelid fiber weft, cotton warp, 92.7 x 72 cm. The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of Mrs. R. Henry Norweb 1951.393.

It is difficult to determine with any precision when specific unku were created during the colonial period. Philip Means suggested in 1932 that European heraldic motifs could be used as chronological indicators. 108 Thus, according to Means, a textile with a double-headed eagle could have been manufactured between 1530 and 1700, when the House of Habsburg held the Spanish throne and dominion over Peru. This may be true, but as the Habsburgs reigned for a long period, such a method is of limited utility for finer chronological control. Furthermore, as Adolph Cavallo pointed out, designs such as the double-headed eagle have been used beyond the reign of the Habsburgs.»» Nathalie Zimmern dated colonial textiles in general on a stylistic basis, with the more formally organized textiles being later than the ones with looser compositions.’!» Zimmern argued that one can trace a gradual diminution in the use of Andean motifs in the textiles over time. But this approach also has drawbacks, as objects made at the same time and place can show very different degrees of incorporation of the iconography of the alien culture.111 With the colonial Andean material, it is particularly hazardous to assume a gradual absorption of European imagery, as some eighteenth-century materials appear closer to pre-Hispanic imagery than some sixteenth-century objects. The eighteenth century witnessed a period of heightened interest late 17th-18th century(?), camelid fiber weft, h. 80.6 cm. Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin, VA 8840.

Fig. 23. Detail of neck area, Cleveland lnka colonial tunic.

In a few instances it is possible to suggest at least a relative date for a tunic. For example, I have suggested elsewhere that the American Museum of Natural History tunic (see fig. 18) probably dates to shortly after 1589.1 ‘l This supposition is based on the inclusion of an Augustinian motif ( the heart with an arrow) in the lower tokapu border and the role this tunic may have played in a shrine in the area where the garment was collected in the late nineteenth century. The similarity of this tunic to pre-Hispanic examples, however, particularly in color, quality of weaving, proportion, and design, would suggest that it was made not long after this date.

For the most part, unfortunately, it is difficult to date the tunics with certainty. In some cases, it may be possible to suggest a broad time frame for a type of design. For example, a type of tunic discussed below, a white tokapu waistband tunic, is most likely late seventeenth or eighteenth century in date, based on similarities with depictions of unku in contemporary paintings. Much work remains to be done on this subject, however.

Colonial Tokapu Tapestry Tunics
Fig. 24. Inka colonial tunic (half), Peru, late 16th-17th century(?), camelid fiber weft. Museo Inka, Universidad Nacional San Antonio Abad de! Cusco, inv. 729.

As mentioned above, certain motifs associated with royalty, such as tokapu, proliferate in the colonial era. Tunics with tokapu waistbands become increasingly popular, and two different color schemes predominate. Several with a white ground are known in collections in Europe and the United States (figs. 20, 21), and this style is often depicted in paintings of the period. The similarity of a tunic with distinctive floral motifs depicted in an idealized, mid eighteenth-century portrait of the first Inka, Manco Capac, illustrated by Teresa Gisbert, 114 may help date a half tunic and a related fragment in the Field Museum. 115 The white-ground tunics are particularly prominent in the Corpus Christi paintings, suggesting they may have held a particularly close relationship with this and other church festivals.

A greater number of colonial tokapu tunics emphasize red and blue.

Fig. 25. Inka colonial tunic (half), Peru, late 16th-17th century(?), camelid fiber weft, 97 x 76 cm. American Museum of Natural History, New York, B/1503.

An extremely interesting half tunic in the collection of the Cleveland Museum of Art (figs. 22, 23) is part of this group.116 Formerly in the collection of Dr. Jose Lucas Capar6 Muniz, the other half of the Cleveland tunic is most likely that in the Museo Inka of the Universidad San Antonio Abad del Cusco (formerly the Museo Arqueol6gico) (fig. 24). Caparo Muniz was a Cuzco resident, and the majority of the items in his collection were from the Cuzco area. 117 Six other tunics and three fragments may be considered part of this red-blue group. In addition to the tunic mentioned previously (see figs. 14, 15), there is one in the American

Museum of Natural History (fig. 25), another in the Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin (fig. 26), and one in Lima.118 The small tunic probably used to clothe a church sculpture mentioned above is also of this type. Three fragments (figs. 27-zg) and a boy’s tunic (fig. 30 ), also part of this group, are discussed below. As with the white-ground tokapu tunics, two of the red-blue tunics suggest use in church contexts: in addition to the one mentioned above used to dress statuary, the boy’s tunic contains ecclesiastical iconography.

A striking feature of many of these colonial tokapu tunics is that at some point in their histories they were cut: either into two pieces at the shoulder line, or into eccentric shapes. In addition to the Field Museum and Cleveland/Cuzco tunics, the American Museum of Natural History tunic (fig. 25) was also cut. In general textiles were not cut in the preHispanic period, as textiles were woven to size to suit particular needs.

Fig. 26. Inka colonial tunic, Peru, late 16th-17th century(?), camelid fiber weft, h. 81 cm. Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin, VA 4577.

In later periods such practices were not necessarily maintained. Why the tunics were cut is not entirely clear. It is possible that the two sides of these tunics were separated in modem times for display or sale purposes, or indeed earlier if two heirs both wanted their father’s or grandfather’s tunic.119 The tunics may also have been cut in the colonial period for different, and currently unknown, reasons. For example, three unusual fragments cut from a red-blue tokapu waistband tunic (or tunics) are now in the Textile Museum (fig. 27) and the Art Institute of Chicago (figs. 28, 29). The fabric was cut into eccentric, butterfly-shaped pieces, probably in the colonial period. 120

Fig. 27. Fragment of an lnka colonial tunic, Peru, late 16th-17th century(?), camelid fiber weft, 24 x 43 cm. The Textile Museum, Washington, 91.8.

Although no two are alike, the red-blue examples usually have a red yoke area, a blue or purple background broken by repeated motifs, and a tokapu waistband rendered as a separate rectangle, stopping short of the seams. The main field of the Cleveland half tunic is a rich inky blue, with the red yoke area separated from the main field by the four bands of awaki in yellow, red, light blue, and purple. The yoke area of the tunic illustrated in figures 14 and 15 is red, but in place of a blue field, the background of both sides is purple. While Guaman Poma suggests that red and blue were used in pre-Hispanic lnka unku, particularly that of Manco Capac, it seems that these colors became a favored combination in the early colonial period.121

Another interesting feature of these colonial tokapu tunics is the color alternation between front and back on several. In the pre-Hispanic corpus the front and back are usually identical. In the Berlin unku (fig. 26), one side is blue with a red yoke, while on the other side, the main field is a reddish purple, with a blue yoke. A tunic in the Museo Inka in Cuzco (fig. 30) similarly has a red main field on one side (with a blue yoke), and a purple field with a red yoke on the other side. The Cuzco half of the Cleveland/Cuzco tunic appears to be more of a purple than the indigo blue of the Cleveland half. The dual color patterning may reflect beliefs currently unknown, but it is also possible that this color alternation speaks to the increasingly decorative character of the tunics. Regardless of the reason, it is clear that any sense that a ruler would need to identify a social group by the color and pattern of their dress is long gone.

Fig. 28. Fragment of an lnka colonial tunic, Peru, Cuzco or Lake Titicaca · area, late 16th-17th century(?), single interlocking tapestry weave with eccentric wefts, camelid fiber weft, cotton warp, 24.8 x 38.7 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago, Bessie Bennett Endowment,1924·459·

Although some of these tunics do not have any specific European iconography or features such as metal-wrapped yarn that indicate with certainty they were created in the colonial period, when viewed as a group they represent more of a colonial tradition than a pre-Columbian one. Even setting aside the argument that the profusion of imagery and color choices suggest a colonial attribution for this group, I argue that the entire set is colonial. Stylistically, the group is relatively cohesive, and at least some of these tunics display uncontested iconographic or technical evidence of colonial manufacture. The American Museum of Natural History tunic (fig. 25), for example, includes a type of embroidery not found on pre-Hispanic Inka tunics.122 Others contain European iconography that securely places them in the colonial period (figs. 14, 15, 17, 24, 30). While the Berlin tunics (figs. 20, 26) and the butterfly-shaped fragments (figs. 27-29) do not show any overt colonial characteristics, their close affinity with the rest of the group makes a colonial attribution reasonable.

In addition to the traditional use of the tokapu waistband, these tunics include other Inka elite emblems and contain tokapu in the main field and yoke area of the tunics. Depictions of the maskaypacha; the fringed headband worn by Inka rulers, are dispersed across the background, as they are in the Lima tunic. Other motifs on this set of unku include what is probably a representation of the kantuta, a flower associated with the Inka royal house.!» Inka staves (waman chanbi), and Inka shields. The Cleveland and Cuzco half tunics include several types of floral motifs, including what are probably two different types of kantuta below the waistband and on the lower border, and another flower, perhaps that known around Cuzco as Nukch!u (Salvia or Fuchsia) above the waistband. Fortunato Herrera suggested that this second type of flower was associated with divine powers, particularly gods associated with earthquakes. 124 Insect motifs (probably spiders) are both above and below the waistband. Insect motifs appear on pre- Hispanic ceramics, and spiders in particular may have been related to divination.!» Both the Cleveland and the Cuzco half tunics include a motif below the waistband representing an Inka shield (at least a colonial idea of an Inka shield), very close in style to that held by a ruler in the Murua manuscript (see fig. u).

Fig. 29. Fragment of an lnka colonial tunic, Peru, Cuzco or Lake Titicaca area, late 16th-17th century(?), single interlocking tapestry weave with eccentric wefts, camelid fiber weft, cotton warp, 25.1 x 43.4 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago, Bessie Bennett Endowment, 1924.460.

Especially prominent on a number of these tunics are pairs of opposing feline images on the yoke of the garment. As with the other images borrowed from Europe mentioned above, there was a selection favoring what was familiar: animals closely associated with Inka royalty in the pre-Hispanic period, particularly felines, continued to be preferred in the colonial period. Opposing felines are found both on pre-Hispanic tunics and architecture, such as the gateway of the palace at Huanuco Pampa, a provincial Inka site. The feline imagery on the Cleveland-Cuzco tunic, however, is Europeanized. On the Cuzco half tunic, the weaver used shading to convey the volume of the animal. On the Cleveland half, the opposing animals in the neck area are largely lost, leaving only the peculiar feet, tails, and some sort of beak-like protuberance from the head of the animal. The talon-like nature of the feet and the protuberance from the head suggest that the weaver may have been looking at griffins.

On the white half tunic in the Field Museum (see fig. 21), two antithetically posed felines are linked by the arc of a rainbow emanating from their mouths. In the colonial period the rainbow was an imperial symbol of the Inka, used by their descendants and the kurakakuna to refer to their role as mediators between heaven and earth-their right to rule.!» While the motif is relatively common on keros, there are only two known examples in the corpus of tunics, the other being an example from the American Museum of Natural History (see fig. 19). The felines on the Field Museum tunic were woven by someone familiar with European heraldry, judging by the position of the tails. The area under the arc of the rainbow is filled with kantuta and insects.

Tunics following the general patterns of the tokapu waistband unku continued to be made through the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in Peru. While there are variations in the waistbands and lower borders, the inverted triangle of the yoke area was always retained. A particularly interesting small tunic is known from the Capar6 Muniz collection (the same collection from whence the Cleveland half tunic came) in the Museo Inka of the Universidad San Antonio Abad del Cusco (fig. 30).127 Known as the Diego Dias tunic because of the name appearing in the tapestry weave, it is similar to the tunics discussed above in its preservation of the essential outline of the Inka design structure of the neck area and lower border. Yet in many respects, the conventions seen in earlier tunics are subverted and reversed in this unku. Compare it with the American Museum of Natural History tunic discussed above (see fig. 18). Instead of an Inka tokapu main field with European motifs in the lower border, the main field of the Diego Dias tunic is filled with European decorative motifs, and the lower border and the yoke area contain Inkastyle tokapu. By the time this tunic was made, perhaps in the late seventeenth or eighteenth century, the Inka and European imagery had been transposed.

As with the pre-Hispanic unku, the Diego Dias tunic is of tapestry weave and the warp was horizontal when worn. Embroidery at the sides and lower border is also in keeping with pre- Hispanic traditions. Yet, on this tunic the traditions merge in a new way: the embroidery linking the sides of the garment forms tokapu motifs, as it does in several other colonial examples (see figs. 14, 15). The yoke area, instead of retaining the solid color field of pre-Hispanic examples, displays a scattering of motifs in the same European-influenced tapestry style seen in the main field below. On one side of the Diego Dias tunic, two heart motifs similar to ex votos flank the neck opening. Tokapu patterning is seen in the step pattern of the yoke area as is a representation of European lace. This side also includes a «Tree of Life» motif, originally a Persian motif common in Mediterranean tapestries.128 The other side contains a loose scatter of floral and avian designs in the main field, with a heart motif just below the yoke.

Fig. 30. Inka colonial tunic, Peru, 17th- 18th century(?), camelid fiber weft, 55 x 47 cm. Museo Inka, Universidad Nacional San Antonio Abad del Cusco, inv. 726.

On both sides heraldic felines flank~ cross-topped orb just above the lower border. On one side there are crowned combatant lions with unusually long tongues. On the other side, similar lions ( uncrowned) are passant gardant. The cross-topped orb, as an emblem of sovereignty, extends back to the time of Constantine and has remained a symbol of the Christian kings of Europe until the present time. The orb is often depicted in the hands of the Christ child in both European and Andean colonial period painting. The reasons for the appearance of the orb on the Diego Dias tunic are unclear, although it suggests that it was used in an ecclesiastical context. The size of this tuni

Unku and Rebellion in the Eighteenth Century

The Inka-style colonial tunics speak to the tenacity and complexity of indigenous textile traditions in the viceregal period. The basic preHispanic lnka male garment continued to be used on key occasions. The fundamental design structure of the indigenous garment was maintained, and new imagery was added in a negotiation of Andean and European values. Unku were worn in the context of church-sponsored festivals and other activities from the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries. But by the unsettled times of the late eighteenth century, Inka-style tunics assumed a new role. As a visual proclamation of Inka descent, they were symbolic of the potential political power of Andeans, separate from Hispanic colonial authority.

Unku played a small but significant part in the uprisings against the Spanish crown in the later part of the eighteenth century. Jose Gabriel Condorcanqui, an Andean lord of the Tungasuca region of Cuzco who took the name Tupac Amaru II (Thupa Amaro), recognized the potent symbol of the unku as a link to a great Andean past, and used it in his call to rebellion against Spain in the last quarter of the eighteenth century.P» His usual attire before the rebellion was that of a Hispanic nobleman, including breeches and waistcoat. After the outbreak of the rebellion, however, he donned an unku. The intention of this act was to rally those born in the Americas to the cause by reminding them of the greatness of the lnka empire. The unku he wore was described as being of wool, with a purple background, embroidered gold borders, and bearing the arms of his ancestors.

Evidence for the use of Inka-style unku beyond the eighteenth century is slim, although in some parts of Peru and Bolivia a type of plain tunic is still worn.131 Tupac Amaru II was executed in 1781, and in the wake of the rebellion, any former privileges accorded the Inka nobility were revoked. 132 Hereditary succession of the kurakakuna was abolished in 1783. Objects and other aspects of culture associated with the Inka tradition were banned. The circulation of Garcilaso de la Vega’s Royal Commentaries was prohibited, as was the teaching of Quechua in the University of San Marcos. The use of Inka genealogical information was restricted. It became illegal to have portraits of Inka rulers, and the use of old clothing or other customs of antiquity in festivals or ceremonies was banned.

Any objects that recalled the customs or social traditions of the Inka were destroyed or mutilated by the colonial authorities. Unku, in particular, were singled out as being contumacious because of their close association with Inka identity. Of course, certain scofflaws disregarded these edicts. As Carolyn Dean notes, a few individuals in Cuzco not only continued to own Inka-style garments, some even made money by renting them out for occasions unknown. 133 Although Tupac Amaru H’s attempt to establish a link between the different strata of colonial society against the Spaniards was ultimately unsuccessful, his use of unku as a supremely visible link to the heroic past is an eloquent statement of the power of these garments in Andean society.

.

NOTES

Many individuals lent their time and expertise to the benefit of this paper. In particular, I would like to thank those who so graciously allowed me to study collections under their care, including Susan Bergh (The Cleveland Museum of Art), Paz Cabello Carro (Museo de America), Barbara Conklin and Matthew Pavlick (formerly and currently [respectively] of the American Museum of Natural History), Diana Fane (formerly of the Brooklyn Museum of Art),

Robert Feldman (formerly of the Field Museum), Julie Jones and Heidi King (The Metropolitan Museum of Art), Jeffrey Quilter, Loa Traxler, and Jennifer Younger (Dumbarton Oaks), Ann Pollard Rowe (The Textile Museum), Christa C. Thurman and Richard F. Townsend (The Art Institute of Chicago) and Margaret YoungSanchez (The Denver Art Museum). Susan Bergh, Ann Rowe, and Margaret Young-Sanchez also provided thoughtful comments on earlier drafts of this paper, as did Monica Barnes. Thanks are due also to Catherine Allen, Ran Boytner, Tom Cummins, Terence D’Altroy, Lisa DeLeonardis, Blenda Femenias, Shirley Glaser, Edward Harwood, T. A. Heslop, Pat Hewitt, Catherine Julien, lain Mackay, Jean-Francois Millaire, Magali Morlion, Esther Pasztory, Elena Phipps, John Pillsbury, Margaret Pillsbury, Cesare Poppi, Mary Pye, William Rea, Patricia Sarro, Anne-Louise Schaffer, and Rebecca Stone-Miller. I would also like to thank Steven Hooper, director of the Sainsbury Research Unit for the Arts of Africa, Oceania, and the Americas,

for fostering the stimulating research environment in which this project was completed.

1. George Kubler, «On the Colonial Extinction of the Motifs of PreColumbian Art,» in Samuel Lothrop, ed., Essays in Pre-Columbian Art and Archaeology (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1961), 14-34.

2. The origins of this style of garment reach as far back as the later part of the Early Horizon period, or around the beginning of the Common Era. The closest antecedents for lnka tunics are found in the Middle Horizon period (AD 500-1000) of the southern highlands; see Anita G. Cook, «The Emperor’s New Clothes: Symbols of Royalty, Hierarchy and Identity,» Journal ef the Steward Anthropological Society 24, nos. 1-2 (1996) (Gary Urton, ed., Structure, Knowledge and Representation in the Andes: Studies Presented to Reiner Tom Zuidema on the Occasion ef His 70th

.

96

Birthday), 85-120. The tunics associated with the Middle Horizon Wari and Tiwanaku cultures demonstrate similar technical details as well as some design structures and motifs.

3. John V. Murra, «Cloth and Its Function in the lnka State,» American Anthropologist 64 (1962), 710-28.

4. Karen Spalding, «Social Climbers:

Changing Patterns of Mobility Among the Indians of Colonial Peru,» Hispanic American Historical Review 50 (1970), 645-64.

5. The Spanish definitions of qompi only indicate «fine» and «double-faced» cloth; it is possible that fine complementary-warp patterned textiles might have been considered qompi as well.

See Sophie Desrosiers, «An Interpretation of Technical Weaving Data Found in an Early 17th-Century Chronicle,» in Ann Pollard Rowe, ed., The Junius B. Bird Conference on Andean Textiles, 7-8 April 1984 (Washington: Textile Museum, 1986), 219-41. John H. Rowe published a thorough and illuminating study of pre-Hispanic Inka tunics, «Standarization in Inca Tapestry Tunics,» in Ann Pollard Rowe et al., eds., The Junius B. Bird Pre-Columbian Textile Conference, 19-;w May 1973 (Washington: Textile Museum, 1979), 244. Ann Rowe built upon and expanded his study in her extremely valuable articles, «Technical Features of Inca Tapestry Tunics,» Textile Museum Journal 17 (1978), 5-28, and «Provincial Inca Tunics of the South Coast of Peru,» Textile Museum Journal 31 (1992), 5-52. For more information on lnka textiles in general, see Susan Niles, «Artist and Empire in Inca and Colonial Textiles,» in Rebecca Stone-Miller et al., To Weave for the Sun: Andean Textiles in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, exh. cat., Museum of Fine Arts, Boston (1992), 50-65; Ann Pollard Rowe, «Inca Weaving and Costume,» Textile Museum Journal 34-35 (1997), 4-54; Vuka Roussakis and Lucy Salazar, «Tejidos y Tejedores del Tahuantinsuyo,» in Franklin Pease et al., eds., Los Incas:

Arte y Simbolos, Colecci6n Arte y Tesoros del Peru (Lima: Banco de Credito del Peru, 1999), 262-97.

6. Jose de Acosta, Historia natural y moral de las Indias [1590], ed. Edmundo O’Gorman (Mexico: Fonda de Cultura Economica, 1940, 2d ed., 1962), bk. 4, chap. 41, 210.

7. Bernabe Cobo, Historia del Nuevo Mundo [1653], ed. D. Marcos Jimenez de la Espada (Seville: Imprenta de E. Rasco, 1890), bk. 14, chap. u , 205-7;

J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 245.

8. On fine textiles in sacrifices, see Pedro Cieza de Leon, The Incas [1551], trans. Harriet de Onis, ed. Victor Wolfgang von Hagen (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1959), 150; Acosta, Historia natural, bk. 5, chap. 18, 246-48, and chap. 7, 227-28; Garcilaso de la Vega, Comentarios Reales de los Incas [1609], ed. Carlos Aranibar, 2 vols. (Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1991, reprint, 1995), bk. 4, chap. 2, vol. 1, 208. On dressed figurines, see Penny Dransart, Elemental Meanings: Symbolic Expression in Inka Miniature Figurines (London: Institute of Latin American Studies, 1995); Johan Reinhard, «Peru’s Ice Maidens, Unwrapping the Secrets,» National Geographic 189, no. 6 (1996), 61-81, and

«At 22,000 Feet Children of Inca Sacrifice Found Frozen in Time,» National Geographic 196, no. 5 (1999), 36-55.

9. Cobo, Historia del Nuevo Mundo, bk. 14, chap. 11,205; Vega, Comentarios, bk. 5, chap. 6, vol. 1, 263.

10. Pedro Pizarro, Relacion del descubrimiento y con.quista de los reinos del Peru y del gobierno y orden que los naturales tenian; y tesoros que en ella se hallaron, y de las demas cosas que en el han subcedido hasta el dia de lafecha [1571], prologue by Ernesto Morales, 2d ed. (Buenos Aires: Editorial Futuro, 1944), 83.

11.Cieza de Leon, The Incas, 164.
12.J. Rowe, «Standardization.»
13.Cobo, Historia del Nuevo Mundo, bk. 14, chap. 11,205; Vega, Comentarios, bk. 5, chap. 6, vol. 1, 263.

14. Cieza de Leon, The Incas, 95, 104, 176-77; Cobo, Historia del Nuevo Mundo, bk. 14, chap. 11,205.

15.J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 241.
16.A. Rowe, «Technical Features,» 5.
17.Ann Pollard Rowe, «The Art of Peruvian Textiles,» in Elizabeth Hill Boone, ed., Andean Art at Dumbarton Oaks, 2 vols. (Washington: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collections, 1996), 2: 342-43.

18. Martin de Murua, Historia general del Peru [1611-16], ed. Manuel Ballesteros (Madrid: Historia 16, 1987), 33 (fol. 204v).

19.J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 240.
20.Ibid.
21.Cieza de Leon, The Incas, 74, 160; Vega, Comentarios, bk. 5, chap. 12, vol. 1, 277; bk. 7, chap. 2, vol. 2, 419.
22.Pizarro, Relacion, 262.
23.Miguel Cabello Valboa, Miscelrinea Antrirtica: Una Historia del Peru Antigua [1586] (Lima: Universidad Mayor de San Marcos, lnstituto de Etnologia, 1951), pt. 3, chap. 24, 395.

Huayna Capac designated his sons Atahualpa and Huascar as dual rulers of the empire, leading to civil war. By

1532 Atahualpa had consolidated power.

24. Teresa Gisbert et al. «Los Chullpares del Rio Lauca y el Parque Sajama,» Revista de la Academia Nacional de Ciencias de Bolivia 70 (1996), 1-66.

25. Vega, Comentarios, bk. 6, chap. 5, vol. 1, 338. Although Garcilaso de la Vega is not always the most reliable of the chroniclers (he left Peru as a child and only wrote his chronicle in later life in Spain), his details are often extremely valuable. See also Tom Cummins, «Representation in the ifith Century and the Colonial Image of the Inca,» in Elizabeth Hill Boone and Walter D. Mignolo, eds., Writing Without Words: Alternative Literacies in Mesoamerica and the Andes (Durham:

Duke University Press, 1994), 205-8.

26. Juan de Betanzos, Suma y Narracion de los Incas [1551], ed. Maria del Carmen Martin Rubio (Madrid:

Ediciones Atlas, 1987), pt. 1, chap. 19, 94-95; pt. 1, chap. 23, 120.

27.J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 242.
28.A. Rowe, «Provincial Inca Tunics»; «Inca Weaving.»

29. See for example the kasana tunic in the National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution (307655), discussed by John Rowe («Standardization,» 261).

30. Inka tunic, Peru, 1400-1532, lnka key style, tapestry weave, camelid fiber weft, cotton warp, camelid fiber embroidery, h. 86.5 cm, w. 76.8 cm. The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of William R. Carlisle 1957.136.

Collections: On loan to the museum from John Wise beginning in 1946.

.

97

Literature: The Bulletin of The Cleveland Museum of Art [hereafter CMA Bulletin] 45 (1958), 92; Handbook ef The Cleveland Museum of Art (Cleveland, 1966), 299; Handbook (1969), 299; Handbook (1977), 403.

31. Other examples are in the collections of the Textile Museum, Washington (91.147 and 59.28); the Etnografiska Museet, Goteborg (G.M. 21.6.9); Staatliches Museum fur Volkerkunde, Munich (x.447); the Brooklyn Museum of Art (86.224.133); the Museo Nacional de Antropologia, Arqueologia e Historia, Lima; and the Museum voor Volkenkunde, Rotterdam (33469). Miniature examples are in the American Museum of Natural History, New York (41.2/904); the Field Museum, Chicago (171377); and the Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin (J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 250).

32. Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala,

El Primer Nueva Coronica y Buen Gobierno [1615], trans. Jorge L. Urioste, eds. John V. Murra and Rolena Adorno, 2d ed., 3 vols. (Mexico: Siglo Veintiuno, 1980), 88, 1: 68; Diego Gonzalez Holguin, Vocabulario de la Lengua General de Toda el Peru Llamada Lengua Qquichua O Del Inca [1608] (Lima: Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos, 1989), 18 («Ahuaquivncu: la camiseta axedrezada de los hombros al pecho»).

33. On specific attire for rituals, see Acosta, Historia natural, bk. 5, chap. 28, 26711; Bernabe Cobo, History cf the Inca Empire, trans. and ed. Roland Hamilton (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1983), bk. 1, chap. 6, 26; and Cristobal de Molina, F dbulas y mitos de los incas [1576], ed. Henrique Urbano and Pierre Duviols, Cronicas de America no. 48 (Madrid: Historia 16, 1989), 70, 99-100. On the association of population groups and design, see Cobo, History of the Inca Empire, bk. 2, chap. 24, 196-97. This chapter also mentions unku worn in battle. On designs of garments worn by soldiers, see Francisco de Xerez, Verdadera relacion de la conquista del Peru [1534], ed. Concepcion Bravo, Cronicas de America no. 14 (Madrid: Historia 16, 1985), 110. See also R. Tom Zuidema, «Guaman Poma and the Art of Empire: Toward an Iconography of Inca Royal Dress,» in Kenneth J. Andrien and Rolena Adorno, eds., Transatlantic Encounters: Europeans andAndeans in the r6th Century (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991), 151-202.

34. Penny Dransart, «Pachamama, The lnka Earth Mother of the Long Sweeping Garment,» in Ruth Barnes and Joanne B. Eicher, eds., Dress and Gender: Making and Meaning in Cultural Contexts (New York: Berg, 1992), 145- 63.

35. Cobo, History ef the Inca Empire, bk. 2, chap. 24, 196-97. See also Acosta, Historia natural, bk. 6, chap. 16, 302.

36.Molina, Fabulas y mitos, 99-100.
37.Cieza de Leon, The Incas, 35.
38.Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Cor6nica; Zuidema, «Guaman Poma.»

39. J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 245; A. Rowe, «Technical Features,» 61 and note 3. A number ofblack-andwhite checkerboard tunics in private collections have been published more recently. See for example Jose Antonio de Lavalle and Rosario de Lavalle de Cardenas, eds., Tejidos Milenarios del Peru/Ancient Peruvian Textiles, Apu Series (Lima: lntegra, 1999).

40. Xerez, Verdadera relacion, no; see also Cristobal de Albornoz, «Un inedit de Cristobal de Albornoz. La instruccion para descubrir todas las guacas del Piru y sus camayos y haziendas» [1581-85], in Pierre Duviols, ed., Journal de la Societe des rlmericanistes 56, no. 1 (1967), 22.

By mid 1533 the Spanish had executed Atahualpa; by the end of the year Pizarro had captured Cuzco and the lnka empire collapsed.

41. Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Cor6nica, 151, vol. 1, 128; 155 [157 ], vol. 1,134.

42. Cobo, History of the Inca Empire, bk. 2, chap. 24, 197.

43. J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 245; Zuidema, «Guaman Poma,» 175.

44. These tunics are now in the Staatliches Museum fur Volkerkunde, Munich (x.446 and x.447). See J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 245.

45. J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 248;

A. Rowe, «Technical Features,» 61.

46. Museum voor Volkenkunde, Rotterdam (33469), published in Paul Faber et al., eds., Schatten. van het Museum voor Volkenkunde, Rotterdam (Rotterdam: Museum voor Volkenkunde, 1987), 108 (illus.), 154, no. 151. The Amano Museum fragment has been published in several places, including Peru durch die Jahrtausende: Kunst und Kultur im Lande der Inka; exh. cat.,

.

98

Schloss Schallaburg, Vienna (Vienna:

Niederosterreichische Landesausstellung, 1983), 372, 373 (illus.), no. 12.18.

47.Reinhard, «At 22,000 Feet.»
48.Textile Museum (91.282), published in A. Rowe, «Provincial Inca Tunics,» fig. 5.

49. Tom Cummins, personal communication (1991).

50. Illustrated in Roussakis and Salazar, «Tejidos y Tejedores,» 272. In the Guaman Poma manuscript, the Inka ruler Huayna Capac is shown wearing a tunic completely covered with the Inka key motif (Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Cor6nica, 112, vol. 1, 92).

51.Reinhard, «At 22,000 Feet,» 45.
52.See note 44 above and J. Rowe, «Standardization.»

53. Textiles without accompanying effigy figures have been found from earlier periods in Peru. See, for example, Lila M. O’Neale, «Pequefias prendas ceremoniales de ParakasRevista del Museo Nacional (Lima) 4, no. 2 (1935), 245-66; Ina VanStan, «Miniature Peruvian Shirts with Horizontal Neck Openings,» American Antiquity 26, no. 4 (1961), 524-31; Karen E. Stothert, «Preparing a Mummy Bundle: Note on a Late Burial from Ancon, Peru,» Naiopa Pacha 16 (1978), 13-22, pls. VII, VIII; «Unwrapping an Inca Mummy Bundle,» Archaeology 32, no. 4 (1979), 8-17; «Corrections for the Published Descriptions of a Late Horizon Mummy Bundle from Ancon,» Naiopa Pacha 19 (1981), 177-88; Susan Lee Bruce, «Textile Miniatures from Pacatnamu, Peru,» in Rowe, Junius B. Bird Conference on Andean Textiles (1986), 183-204. For further discussion of miniature garments, see lmmina von Schuler-Schoemig, «Puppen oder Substitute?: Gedanken zur Bedeutung einer Gruppe von Grabbeigaben aus Peru,» Tribus 33 (1984), 155-68; Donna M. Rorie, «A Family of Nasca Figures,» The Textile Museum Journal 29-30 (1990-91), 77-92; Ann Pollard Rowe, «Nasca Figurines and Costume,» The Textile Museum Journal 29-30 (1990- 91), 93-128.

54. Cieza de Leon, The Incas, 31. There have been several attempts to understand the use and significance of tokapu designs, although none of the studies has proved entirely conclusive. R. Tom Zuidema has suggested that they are heraldic emblems that correspond to Andean political groups. See «Bureaucracy and Systematic Knowledge in Andean Civilization,» in G. Collier et al., eds., The Inca and Aztec States, r400-r800: Anthropology and History (New York: Academic Press, 1982), 419- 58. Several authors have suggested that tokapu represent a system of writing; see for example Thomas Barthel, «Viracochas Prunkgewand (TocapuStudien 1),» Tribus 20 (1971), 63-124; Victoria de la Jara, Introducci6n al Estudio de la Escritura de los Inkas (Lima, 1975); Federico Kauffman Doig, «Los Retratos de la Capaccuna de Guaman Poma y el Problema de los Tocapo,» in Amerikanistische Studien:

Festschriftfar Hermann Trimborti anlasslich. seines 75. Geburtstages/ Estudios americanistas: Libra jubilar en homenaje a Hermann Trimborn con motivo de su septuagesimoquinto aniversario, ed. Roswith Hartmann and Udo Oberem (San Agustin: Antroposlnstitut, 1978), 1: 298-308; William Burns Glynn, «Introducci6n a la clave de la escritura secreta de los Incas,» Boletin de Lima 12-14 (1981), 1-32, and Legado de los Amautas (Lima: CONCYTEC and Editora Ital Peru, 1990); David

de Rojas y Silva, «Los Tocapu: un programa de interpretaci6n,» Arte y Arqueologia (La Paz) 7 (1981), 09-32. Tom Cummins, however, has pointed out that this confusion arose from the colonial use of the Quechua word quilca (meaning an image or a picture) to refer to books and writing («La representaci6n en el siglo XVI: la imagen colonial del Inca,» in Mito y simbolismo en los Andes: la .figura y la palabra, comp. Henrique Urbano [Cuzco: Centro

de Estudios Regionales Andinos «Bartolome de las Casas,» 1993], 03- 14). For recent discussions, see Carmen Arellano, «Quipu y Tocapu: Sistemas

de Comunicaci6n Inca,» in Franklin Pease et al., Los Incas: Arte y Simbolos, Colecci6n Arte y Tesoros del Peru (Lima: Banco de Credito del Peru,

1999), 215-61; Catherine Julien, «Tokapu Messages,» Proceedings of the Seventh Biennial Symposium of the Textile Society ef America, Santa Fe, 2000 (Earleville: Textile Society of America, 2001); John H. Rowe, «AllT’oqapu Tunic,» in Boone, Andean A rt, 2: 457-64.

55.J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 251.
56.Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Coronica, 106, vol. 1, 86; 110, vol. 1, 90; 377 [379], vol. 2, 350; 440 [442], vol. 2, 4o8; 442 [444], vol. 2, 410i 449 [451], vol. 2,416.

57. Rebecca Stone-Miller,» ‘And All Theirs Different from His’: The Dumbarton Oaks lnka Royal Tunic in Context,» in Ramiro Matos Mendieta et al., eds., Variations in the Expression cf Inka Power (Washington: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collections, in press). Alan Sawyer has argued that this tunic is from the colonial period, not because of any Spanish technology or iconography, but because the traditional symbols were employed without regard to their restricted use under Inka rule; see Alan R. Sawyer, «Catalogue List of Exhibition of Peruvian SpanishColonial Textiles,» Textile Museum Workshop Notes, Paper 23 (196!), no. 4. See also Elizabeth P. Benson’s notes on no. 451 in Jay A. Levenson, ed., Circa r492: Art in the Age of Exploration, exh. cat., National Gallery of Art, Washington (1991), 594, and John H. Rowe, «All-T’oqapu Tunic.» Fragments of another allover tokapu tunic are found in the collection of the Textile Museum (91.535). The attribution of this piece to the pre- or postconquest period remains a difficult question. While the exuberant combination of imagery is in some ways in keeping with the overall tendencies of the colonial corpus (see below), no other features such as color changes or proportions suggest that it is colonial.

58.A. Rowe, «Provincial Inca Tunics.»
59.Ibid., and A. Rowe, «Provincial Man’s Tunic,» in Boone, Andean Art, 2: 455-56, pl. 132. These tunics are distinct from metropolitan or Cuzco-style tunics (such as the black-and-white checkerboard and tokapu waistband styles mentioned above) found on the coast. The Cleveland tunic, for example, which is entirely metropolitan in style, was reportedly found in the coastal valley of lea.

60. It is important to remember, however, Dorothy Menzel’s observation that some objects made in the colonial period demonstrate no iconographic or technical evidence distinct from preHispanic traditions; Dorothy Menzel, «The Inca Occupation of the South Coast of Peru,» Southwestern Journal ef Anthropology 15, no. 2 (1959), 125-42; reprinted in John H. Rowe and Dorothy Menzel, eds., Peruvian Archaeology:

.

99

Selected Readings (Palo Alto: Peek Publications, 1967 ), 2 31.

61. See also A. Rowe, «Provincial Inca Tunics,» 9-10.

62. R6mulo Cuneo-Vidal, Historia de las guerras de los ultimas Incas peruanos contra el poder espafiol (Barcelona: Casa Editorial Maucci, 1925), 228, 292.

63. Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Coronica. See also Elias Prado Tello and Alfredo Prado Prado, eds., Y no hay remedio (Lima: Centro de Investigaci6n y Promoci6n Amaz6nica, 1991); Muma, Historia. A problematic representation of a tunic is seen on a coat of arms

now in the Archive of the Indies in Seville (in the «Escudos y Arboles Geneol6gicos» section, 78). The catalogue date is 1545 ( which would make it earlier than either the Guaman Poma or Murua depictions), and it is meant

to represent a coat of arms granted by Charles V to the descendants of Tupac Yupanqui. This coat of arms has

been published in Laura Escobari de Querejazu, «La Heraldica lncaica y los Caciques Cusicanqui de Pacajes,» Arte y Arqueologia (La Paz) 8-9 (1982-83), 163-66, pl. XXVIII, fig. 1, and Pedro Gonzalez Garcia et al., Discovering the Americas: The Archive of the Indies (New York/Paris: Vendome Press, 1997), 68. Elsewhere I have discussed the possibility that this coat of arms is considerably later than 1545 («InkaColonial Tunics: A Case Study,» in Margaret Young-Sanchez, ed., Andean Textile Traditions, Denver Art Museum [in press]). It is clear, however, that whatever the date of this coat of arms, the distinctive unku designs are seen

as a major identifying aspect of Inka royalty.

64. See for example Thomas B. F. Cummins, «We Are the Other: Peruvian Portraits of Colonial Kurakakunain Andrien and Adorno, Transatlantic Encounters, 203-31, and Isabel Iriarte, «Las tunicas incas en la pintura colonial,» in Urbano, Mito y simbolismo, 53-85.

65. Carolyn Dean, «Painted Images of Cuzco’s Corpus Christi: Social Conflict and Cultural Strategy in Viceregal Peru» (Ph.D. diss., University of California, Los Angeles, 1990), and Inka Bodies and the Body ef Christ: Corpus Christi in Colonial Cuzco, Peru (Durham: Duke University Press, 1999). See also La Processione del Corpus Domini nel Cusco, exh. cat., Roma EUR (Rome: Istituto Italo Latino-Americano, 1996).

66. Francisco Stastny, «lconografia Inca en May6licas Coloniales,» in Vidriados y May6licas del Peru (Lima: Museo de Arte y Historia, Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos, 1986), 17. See also Philip A. Means,A Study of Peruvian Textiles (Boston: Museum of Fine Arts, 1932), 111-12; George Kubler, «The Quechua in the Colonial World,» in Handbook ef South American Indians, vol. 2 of The Andean Civilizations, ed. Julian H. Steward, Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 143 (Washington:

Smithsonian Institution, 1947), 361; Rolena Adorno, «On Pictoral Language and the Typology of Culture in a New World Chronicle,» Semiotica 36, nos. 1, 2 (1981), 63.

67. This particular portrait is posthumous (Dean, Inka Bodies, 119), which calls into question the «veracity» of the attire. Whether or not Don Alonso Chiguan Topa himself ever wore such garb, it is likely that the tunic imagery was loosely based on the type worn in church festivals in his lifetime. The portrait has been published in several places, including Dean, Inka Bodies, fig. 29 and cover, and Marthe Valles-Bled et al., eds., L’Art des Incas dans les Collections des Musees de Cusco, exh. cat., Musee de Chartres (1992), 226-27, no. 199. See also Iriarte, «Las tunicas incas.» On the colonial portraits of Inka nobles, see Cummins, «We Are the Other»; John H. Rowe, «Colonial Portraits of Inca Nobles,» in Sol Tax, ed., The Civilizations of. Ancient America: Selected Papers ef the XXIXth International Congress of. Americanists (New York: Cooper Square Publishers, 1967), 258-68; Teresa Gisbert, «Los Incas en la Pintura Virreinal del Siglo xvrn,» America Indigena 39, no. 4 (1979), 748-72.

68. Excluding all miniature or children’s tunics, the pre-Columbian sample ranges 84-100 cm in length (as worn, not the total fabric length), and 7219 cm in width. The colonial tunics range 77-98 cm in length and 72-81 cm in width.

69. Elizabeth P. Benson also suggests a colonial date for this piece based on the use of certain motifs; see Levenson, Circa 1492, 595, no. 452. This tunic, collected in the 18th century, has been published frequently. For a discussion of its collection history, see Paz Cabello Carro, Los Incas y el antiguo Peru: 3000 aiios de historia, exh. cat., Centro Cultural de la Villa de Madrid (1991), 482, no. 356.

.

100

70. Steve J. Stern, Peru ‘.sIndian Peoples and the Challenge of Spanish Conquest:

Huamanga to 1640 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1982), 31.

71. Acosta, Historia natural, bk. 5, chap. 7, 227-28.

72. Frank Salomon, «Ancestor Cults and Resistance to the State in Arequipa, ca. 1748-1754,» in Steve J. Stern, ed., Resistance, Rebellion, and Consciousness in the Andean Peasant World, 18th to zoth. Centuries (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1987), 160.

73. Diego de Esquivel y Navia, Notas cronol6gicas de la gran ciudad del Cuzco [c. 1749], eds. Felix Denegri Luna et al., 2 vols. (Lima: Banco Wiese, 1980), 2: 43. The Spanish word camiseta was generally used to indicate unku, see Mary Money, Los Obrajes, el Traje y el Comercio de Rapa en laAudiencia de Charcas (La Paz: Instituto de Estudios Bolivianos, 1983), 166.

74. Vega, Comentarios, bk. 5, chap. 2, vol. 1, 257; Dean, Inka Bodies; Iriarte, «Las tunicas incas.»

.

75. Amedee Francois Frezier, Relation du voyage de la Mer du Sud aux Cotes du Chily, et du Perou.fait pendant les annees 1712, 1713, et 1714 (Paris: Chez Jean-Geoffroy Nyon, Etienne Ganeau, Jacque Quillau, 1716), 249. See also Karen Spalding, Huarochiri:AnAndean Society Under Inca and Spanish Rule (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1984), 231.

76. Carlos A. Romero, «Festividades del tiempo heroico del Cuzco,» Inca 1, no. 2 (1923), 449. See also Dean, «Painted Images,» 252.

77. Jorge Cornejo Bouroncle, Derroteros de arte cuzqueno. datos para una historia del arte en el Peru (Cuzco: Ediciones Inca, 1960), 258.

78. James W. Reid, «The Age of the Viceroys,» Hali 11, no. 4, issue 46 (1989), 26.

79. Visitador General Don Josef Antonio de Areche to Juan Manuel, Obispo de Cusco (13 April 1781), Archive of the Indies, Seville, fol. 4v, fol. 5r. Minor complaints about the practice existed prior to this time, but they seem to

have had little effect.

So. That he included tunics with a group of lnka items sent to Philip II

of Spain in 1572 is of interest; see Catherine Julien, «History and Art in Translation: The Panos and Other Objects Collected by Francisco de Toledo,» Colonial Latin American Review 8 (1999), 61-89.

81. Dean, Inka Bodies, 177. As Dean points out, by the second half of the

i Sth century, costumes of the Sapa Inka were listed in wills and inventories as just another type of dance livery.

82. Metal-wrapped yarns were not brought over from Spain until the latter part of the ifith century when production was begun in Peru; see M. D. C. Crawford, Peruvian Fabrics, Anthropology Papers 12, pt. 4 (New York: American Museum of Natural History, 1942), 303; Nathalie Zimmern, «The Tapestries of Colonial Peru,» Brooklyn Museum Journal (1943-44), 36. On other technical changes in the colonial period, see A. Rowe, «Technical Features.»

83. A. Rowe, «Technical Features,» 25; Elena Phipps, «Royal lnka Garments in the Post-lnka Period: Native Identity and Dress in the Colonial Andes» (paper presented at the Medieval Academy, Stanford University, 26 March 1998).

84.J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 243.
85.A type of tunic where the design is carried largely by the addition of elaborate embroidery at the neck and lower border has been attributed to the colonial period, although there is some question as to the date of the embroidery. For this reason, and as only one has been published in full view (Diana Fane, ed., Converging Cultures: Art and Identity in Spanish America, exh. cat., Brooklyn Museum [New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1996], 185, no. 52), this type of tunic is not included in the present study.

86. Joanne Pillsbury, «Early PostConquest Andean Textiles: An Analysis of Uncu Design Structure and Function» (M.A. thesis, Columbia University, 1986); Pillsbury, «lnka-Colonial Tunics.»

87.A. Rowe, «Technical Features,» 6.
88.Spalding, «Social Climbers,» 656- 59.

89. For a discussion of changes in both women’s and men’s garments, see Elena J. Phipps, «Textiles as Cultural Memory: Andean Garments in the Colonial Period,» in Fane, Converging Cultures, 144-56.

go. John H. Rowe, «El Movimiento Nacional Inca del Siglo XVIII,» Revista Universitaria 43, no. 107 (1954), 17-47, and «The Incas under Spanish Colonial Institutions,» Hispanic American Historical Review 37 (1957), 155-99.

91. Spalding, Huarochiri.; James Lockhart, Spanish Peru 1532-1560: A Colonial Society (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1968).

92.J. Rowe, «El Movimiento
93.Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Cor6nica, 800 [814], vol. 2, 746-47.

94. Rolena Adorno, «Don Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala,» in Guaman Poma de Ayala: The Colonial A rt of an Andean Author, exh. cat., Americas Society, New York (1992), 32-45.

95. This is not to say that the reverse was not also true, that is, that Andean imagery entered traditional Spanish patterns, for this indeed happened as well. For recent studies of colonial textiles in general, see Pedro Gjurinovic Canevaro, «La Textileria del Peru Virreinal/Textiles in the Peruvian Viceroyalty,» in Tejidos Milenarios, 665-729, and Niles, «Artist and Empire.»

96. See also a tunic in a private collection in Lima illustrated in James W. Reid, Textile Masterpieces cf Ancient Peru (New York: Dover Publications, 1986), fig. 57, pl. 39·

97. The plant imagery has been identified asfloripondio (Brugmasia vulcanicola), a plant associated with lnka royalty, by Paz Cabello Carro, Coleccionismo americano indigena en la Espana del siglo XVIII (Madrid:

Ediciones de Cultura Hispanica, 1989), 153. See also Luis Ramos Gomez and Maria Concepcion Blasco Bosqued, Los tejidos prehispanicos del area central andina en el Museo de America (Madrid:

Ministerio de Cultura, Direccion General del Patrimonio Artistico, Archivos y Museos, 1980), no. 136, pls. XLIII, XLIV; Los Incas y el Antigua Peru, 259, no. 337·

98. The second example was published in a translation of John Rowe’s article, «Standardization» (» Estandardizacion de las Tunicas de Tapiz Inca»), in Tejidos Milenarios, 581, pl. 10. An unusual feature of the Chicago tunic is the olive color of four squares along the upper left of the tunic. The other squares are the usual black or white.

.

101

99. In the Guaman Poma manuscript, butterfly motifs are usually found on women’s dress, although occasionally they are seen on male tunics or chuspa (coca bags) carried by men (see fig. II here); El Primer Nueva Cor6nica, 86, vol. 1, 67; 252 [254], vol. 1,226; 753

[ 767 ], vol. 2, 702.

100. See for example a kero in the collection of the Museo Inka, Universidad Nacional San Antonio Abad del Cusco, illustrated in Jorge A. Flores Ochoa et al., eds., Qeros: Arte Inka en Vasos Ceremoniales (Lima: Banco de Credito del Peru, 1998), xiv.

101. See Fortunato L. Herrera, «Fitolatria lndigena, Plantas y Flores Simbolicas de los lnkas,» Inca 1, no. 2 (1923), 440-46 (kantuta discussed on 443); Eugenio Y acovleff and Fortunato L. Herrera, «El mundo vegetal de los antiguos peruanos,» Revista del Museo Nacional (Lima) 3, no. 3 (1934), 243- 322 [pt. 1], and 4, no. 1 (1935), 31-102 [pt. 2].

102. Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Cor6nica, 165 [167], vol. 1,144.

103. This tunic (fig. 18) was collected with several others by Adolph Bandelier in the late 19th century. For a detailed discussion of the set, and this tunic in particular, see Pillsbury, «lnka-Colonial Tunics.»

.

104. This is also true of the Lima tunic discussed above (Reid, Textile Masterpieces, no. 57, pl. 39). Although its date is given as AD 1400-1532 in that publication, the tunic is undoubtedly colonial.

105. The Inka would have had access to indigo and other dyestuffs to produce blue, eliminating the issue of availability as a factor in the decision to avoid blue and use other colors; Ann Pollard Rowe, personal communication (2002).

106. Susan Bergh, Pattern and Paradigm in Middle Horizon Tapestry Tunics (Ann Arbor: UMI, 1999), 1: 123-24.

107.Cieza de Leon, The Incas, 35.
108.Means, A Study cf Peruvian Textiles, 27-28, 71.

109. Adolph S. Cavallo, Tapestries ef Europe and Colonial Peru in the Museum ef Fine Arts, Boston (Boston:

Museum of Fine Arts, 1967), 1: 185.

IIO. Zimmern, «Tapestries.»

III. James Deetz, Invitation to Archaeology (Garden City: Natural History Press, 1967), u4-16. See also Lawrence Dawson and James Deetz, Chumash

Indian Art, exh. cat., Art Gallery, Santa Barbara, California (1964).

112. J. Rowe, «EI MovimientoBlenda Femenias, «Peruvian Costume and European Perceptions in the i Sth Century,» Dress 10 (1984), 52-63; Francisco Stastny, «Iconografia Inca.»

113.Pillsbury, «Inka-Colonial Tunics.»
114.Gisbert, «Los Incas en Ia Pintura,» 75o.

115. This fragment is illustrated in Pillsbury, «Inka-Colonial Tunics,» fig. 13.

116. Half of an lnka tunic, Peru, after 1532, tokapu style, tapestry weave, camelid fiber weft, cotton warp; h. 92.7 x 72 cm. The Cleveland Museum of Art, The Norweb Collection 1951.393.

Collections: Dr. Jose Lucas Capar6 Muniz.

Exhibitions: Adele C. Weibel, 2000 Years cf Tapestry Weaving, Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford (1951), 60, no. 178; the Baltimore Museum of Art (1952); Latin America Then and Now, the Denver Art Museum (1959).

Literature: CMA Bulletin 42 (1955), 48-50, 49 (illus.), Handbook of The Cleveland Museum cf Art (Cleveland, 1958), no. 350; Handbook (1966), 299; Handbook (1969), 299; Handbook (1977), 403; J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 244·

117. Alberto A. Giesecke, «Los primeros afios del Museo Arqueol6gico de la Universidad de! Cuzco, hoy lnstituto Arqueol6gico del Cuzco,» Revista del Instituto y MuseoArqueol6gico (Cuzco) 12, afio 7 (1948), 36-44.

118. Reid, Textile Masterpieces, no. 57, pl. 39·

119. A. Rowe, personal communication (2002).

120. Richard Townsend, personal communication (1997).

121. Guaman Poma, El Primer Nueva Coronica; 86, vol. 1, 66.

122. Ann Pollard Rowe, caption to fig. 140, in Craig Morris and Adriana von Hagen, eds., The Inka Empire and Its Andean Origins (New York: American Museum of Natural History and Abbeville Press, 1993), 151.

123. Herrera, «Fitolatria lndigena,» 443; Y acovleff and Herrera, «El mundo vegetal [pt. 2],» 59-61.

124. Herrera, «Fitolatria lndigena,» 443-44; Yacovleff and Herrera, «El mundo vegetal [pt. 2],» 85-86.

.

102

125. T. Cummins, personal communication (1992).

126. Cummins, «We Are the Other,» 218-22.

127.J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 244.
128.Mildred Stapley, Popular Weaving and Embroidery in Spain (New York:

William Helburn Press, 1924), 12; John H. Rowe in Gordon R. Willey, Das Alte Amerika (Berlin: Propylaen Verlag, 1974), 350.

129.J. Rowe, «Standardization,» 244.
130.Carlos Daniel Valcarcel, La Rebeli6n de Tupac Amaru, 2d ed. (Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1975), 45, 144. It is clear that Tupac Amaru II had a strong sense of traditional Andean cloth and its social importance in general. See, for example, Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy, Rebellions and Revolts in r8th Century Peru and Upper Peru, Lateinamerikanische Forschungen, Band 14 (Cologne: Bohlau Verlag, 1985), 240-42; and Lagran rebeli6n en las Andes: de Tupac Amaru a Tupac Catari, Archivos de Historia Andina 20 (Cuzco: Centro de Estudios Regionales Andinas de «Bartolome de Las Casas,» 1995), 32.

131. Luis Millones, «Economia y Ritual en los Condesuyos de Arequipa: Pastores y Tejedores del Siglo XIX,» Allpanchis 8 (1975), 64. See also Laurie Adelson

and Arthur Tracht, Aymara Weavings:

Ceremonial Textiles cf Colonial and r9th Century Bolivia (Washington:

Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service, 1983), 57. Plain tunics are still worn by the Q’ero and others in remote areas; A. Rowe, personal communication (2002). Mary Money reports in Los Obrajes, 167, that plain unku or ira are still worn by the Chipaya of Bolivia and indians of Charazani.

132. Jose Antonio de Areche, «Setencia Pronunciada en el Cuzco por el Visitador D. Jose Antonio de Areche, contra Jose Gabriel Tupac-Amaru, su muger, hijos, y demas reos principales de la sublevacion,» in Documentos para la Historia de la Sublevaci6n de Jose Gabriel de Tupac-Amaru, Cacique de la Provincia de Tinta, en el Peru, comp. Pedro de Angelis (Buenos Aires: lmprenta de! Estado, 1836), 44-51.

133. Dean, Inka Bodies, 178.

.

PHOTOGRAPHY CREDITS

Figs. 1, 22, 23: copyright The Cleveland Museum of Art; figs. 2, 9, 11: from Felipe Guaman Poma de Ayala, El Primer Nueva Cor6nicay Buen Gobierno [1615], trans. Jorge L. Urioste, eds. John V. Murra and Rolena Adorno, 2d ed., 3 vols. (Mexico: Siglo Veintiuno, 1980), 1: 67, 86; 2: 702; fig. 3: Brooklyn Museum of Art; figs. 4, 6, 27: Textile Museum, Washington; fig. 5: Dallas Museum

of Art; fig. 7= Dumbarton Oaks, Washington; fig. 8: Botin, courtesy the Department of Library Services, American Museum of Natural History, New York; fig. 10: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; fig. 12:

J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles; fig. 13: Museo de America, Madrid; fig. 16: copyright The Field Museum, #A86173; figs. 17, 25: Dennis Finnin, courtesy Department of Library Services, American Museum of Natural History, New York; fig. 18: K. Perkins, courtesy Department of Library Services, American Museum of Natural History, New York; fig. 19: American Museum

of Natural History, New York; figs. 20, 26: Ethnologisches Museum, Berlin;

fig. 21: copyright The Field Museum, #90410; fig. 24: Museo Inka, Universidad Nacional San Antonio Abad del Cusco, from Marthe Valles-Bled et al., eds., L’Art des Incas dans les collections des musees de Cusco, exh. cat., Musee de Chartres (1992), no. 201; fig. 27= F. Khoury, courtesy the Textile Museum, Washington; figs. 28, 29: The Art Institute of Chicago; fig. 30: Museo Inka, Universidad Nacional San Antonio

Abad del Cusco, from Gordon R. Willey, Das alte Amerika (Berlin: Propylaen Verlag, 1974), fig. 435.

Chankillo: 2,300-Year-Old Solar Observatory

The identification of places from which astronomical observations were made in prehistory, together with evidence on the nature and context of those observations, can reveal much about the ways in which people before the advent of written records perceived, understood, and attempted to order and control the world they inhabited. Evidence of systematic observations of the changing position of the rising and setting sun along the horizon, in particular, can provide information on the development, nature and social operation of ancient calendars. Solar horizon calendars were certainly important among indigenous Americans, one of the best-known modern examples being at the Hopi village of Walpi. In pre-contact Mesoamerica, systematic studies of the orientations of sacred buildings and city plans strongly suggest the existence of horizon calendars in which special significance was attributed to certain key dates. It has been argued that these include not only the solstices, but also the

Chankillo
a 2,300-Year-Old Solar Observatory in Coastal peru
Author: Ivan Ghezzi and Clive Ruggles
From Science 315 (2007):120–124.

.

7.1 Map of the Chankillo site.

dates of solar zenith passage5 and dates counted off from these at intervals significant in the intermeshing cycles of the Mesoamerican calendar round.6 In South America, accounts going back to the 16th century record various details of pre-conquest practices relating to Inca state-regulated sun worship and related cosmological beliefs.7 Various schemes of landscape timekeeping have been suggested, supported by a combination of historical evidence and analyses of the spatial disposition of sacred architecture—and in particular the system of shrines placed along lines (ceques) conceived as radiating out from the central sun temple, the Coricancha, in Cusco.8 “Sun pillars” are described by various chroniclers as having stood around the horizon from Cusco and been used to mark planting times and regulate seasonal observances,9 but all the Cusco pillars have vanished without trace and their precise location remains unknown. Here, we describe a much earlier structure in coastal Peru that seems to have been built to facilitate sunrise and sunset observations throughout the seasonal year.

The group of structures known as the Thirteen Towers is found within Chankillo, a ceremonial center in the Casma-Sechín River Basin of the coastal Peruvian desert (Fig. 7.1). Seventeen 14C dates fall between 2350–2000 calibrated years before the present (B.P.) (Fig. 7.2), and point to the beginning of occupation at the site in the fourth century BC, during the late Early Horizon period.10 The site contains multiple

 

7.2 Calibrated years B.P. date ranges (±SE) for samples from Chankillo, prepared by means of the program OxCal version 3.1011 with the use of Southern Hemisphere atmospheric data.12 For each sample, the first column represents the laboratory (NSF-Arizona Accelerator Mass Spectrometry Laboratory) identification number. The shaded area refers to the probability distribution of possible intersection points with the calibration curve, and the horizontal line below represents the 2-sigma calibrated age range. Five dates (AA57020 to AA57025) were sampled following dendrochronological principles from the outer sapwood rings preserved under bark in algarrobo (Prosopis sp.) lintels found still plugged into the architecture; these give a firm date for the construction of the site. The rest were obtained from the remains (including seed and fiber) of plants with short life spans. Thus, the “old wood” problem, especially troubling on the coastal desert of Peru, was minimized. CalBC, calibrated years BCE; CalAD, calibrated years CE.

.

7.3 Plan of the Thirteen Towers and adjacent buildings in Chankillo. (A) Location within Peru. (B) The Thirteen Towers. (C) The external corridor and western observing point. (D) The eastern observing point.

7.4 The Thirteen Towers of Chankillo, as viewed from the fortified temple. Tower 1 is the leftmost tower in the image.

Ivan Ghezzi and Clive Ruggles

7.5 The fortified temple at Chankillo (Photo courtesy of Servicio Aerofotografico Nacional, Peru).

standing structures and plazas over approximately 4 km2 of rock outcrops and sand ramps. It is oriented south of east (azimuth 118°). Its best-known feature is a 300m-long hilltop structure built in a remote location and heavily fortified with massive walls, restricted gates, and parapets (Fig. 7.5). This famous structure has been discussed often as a fort, a redoubt, or a ceremonial center.13 However, recent research supports an alternative interpretation as a fortified temple.14 A lesser-known part of the site is a ceremonial-civic area to the east, which contains buildings, plazas, and storage facilities. The Thirteen Towers form the most outstanding feature within this area: a row of 13 cuboidal constructions placed along the ridge of a low hill (Fig. 7.3b). The towers run north-south, although Towers 11–13 are twisted around slightly towards the southwest. Seen from the buildings and plazas below this hill, on either side, the towers form an artificial toothed horizon with narrow gaps at regular intervals (Fig. 7.4).

The towers are relatively well-preserved; their corners have mostly collapsed, but enough of the original architecture survives to allow reconstruction (Fig. 7.3). They were flat-topped and rectangular to rhomboidal. Their size (75–125 m2) and height (2–6 m) vary widely. Nonetheless, they are regularly spaced: the gaps between the towers vary from 4.7 to 5.1 m. Each tower has a pair of inset staircases leading up to the summit on the north and south sides (Fig. 7.6). Most of the northern staircases

185

7.6. Oblique view of Tower 1 with excavated northern staircase.

Ivan Ghezzi and Clive Ruggles

are centered along this side, although not all are aligned with the general orientation of the tower. Most of the southern staircases are often offset toward the east. The staircases are narrow (1.3–1.5 m wide), but because the heights of the towers vary, they are of different lengths (1.3–5.2 m). Most of the tower summits are well preserved; no artifacts remain on these surfaces, though it is clear they were foci of activity.

A group of enclosures is found 200 m to the west of the towers (Fig. 7.3). The southernmost enclosure contains a building composed of two courtyards. The southeast courtyard is 53.6 m long and 36.5 m wide, and is well-preserved. Running along its southern side is a unique construction: a 40 m-long exterior corridor (Fig. 7.3c). The corridor, like the rest of the building, was carefully constructed, plastered, and painted white; however it never led into it. Instead, it connected a doorway on the northwest side, to which access was restricted by a blocking wall, with an opening on the southeast side that directly faced the towers 235 m away. The southeast opening, unlike every other doorway at Chankillo, did not have the typical barholds, or small niches where a pin was firmly tied into the stone masonry and presumably used to attach a wooden door.15 We infer that the purpose of the corridor was to orchestrate movement from its restricted entryway to a doorless opening directly facing the towers. Considering the original height of the corridor walls, estimated at roughly 2.2 m, only when the opening was reached would there have been an unobstructed view of the full row of towers. Surrounding the opening, at floor level, archaeological excavations have revealed offerings of pottery, shell, and lithics. No other offerings were found associated with openings in excavations elsewhere at the site.16 This suggests that significant elements of ritual were involved in the process of passing through the corridor and standing at the end of it to observe the towers. Consequently, we term this opening the “western observing point.”

To the east of the towers (Fig. 7.3) is a large area (1.4 km2) with several buildings, including an impressive complex of interconnected patios and rooms, chicha (corn beer) storage facilities, and a large plaza (0.16 km2). In several places within the plaza there were surface offerings of ceramic panpipes and thorny oyster (Spondylus princeps sp.), and middens near the plaza contained remains of serving vessels, more ceramic panpipes, and abundant maize remains. This whole area was probably a setting for large ceremonial feasts.

From several locations around this ceremonial area, the Thirteen Towers command the landscape and could be used as solar horizon markers, but one isolated building is of particular interest (Fig. 7.3d). It is a small, isolated building in the middle of a large, open space. Its position in relation to the Thirteen Towers is almost an exact mirror of the western observing point: the two lie almost exactly on an east-west line, are at the same elevation, and are at roughly the same distance from the towers. When viewed from inside this building, the spread of the towers forms an artificial horizon as well.

Only an incomplete outline of a rectangular room, 6 m wide, is preserved. Like the corridor leading to the western observing point on the opposite side of the towers, this room had a doorway—in this case on the southeast side—that was restricted by a small blocking wall. We hypothesize that this structure was the eastern observing point, but the exact position cannot be known with the same certainty as the western observing point.

We determined the locations of the two observing points together with the corners of each tower using hand-held differential GPS equipment. This enabled each point on the false horizon formed by the towers, as viewed from each observing point in turn, to be defined in terms of its azimuth, altitude, and (astronomical) declination (Tables 7.1 and 7.2, for more detail, see Tables 7.3 and 7.4). Independent compassclinometer determinations of azimuths and altitudes, calibrated using a direct observation of sunrise against the towers, provided consistency checks. By “altitude,” we mean the vertical angle between a viewed point and the horizontal plane through the observer, “elevation” being the height of a location above sea level.17

Declinations of +23.75° and –23.75° correspond to the center of the sun at the extreme positions of sunrise and sunset in 300 BC, at the June and December solstices respectively, with the sun’s disc extending between +23.5° and +24.0° (June) and between –24.0° and –23.5° (December).18 Intermediate declinations correspond to sunrise and sunset on other dates.

As viewed from the two observing points, the spread of the towers along the horizon corresponds remarkably closely to the range of movement of the rising and setting positions of the sun over the year. This in itself argues strongly that the towers were used for solar observation. From the western observing point, the southern slopes of Cerro Mucho Malo, at a distance of 3 km, meet the nearer horizon (formed by the nearby hill on which the towers are constructed) just to the left of the northernmost tower, Tower 1, providing a thirteenth “gap” of similar width to those between each pair of adjacent towers down the line.

From the eastern observing point, the southernmost tower, Tower 13, would not have been visible at all, and the top of Tower 12 would only just have been visible (it is only partially visible now in its ruinous condition). From here, the December solstice sun would have been seen to set behind the left side of the southernmost visible tower, Tower 12, while the June solstice sun set directly to the right of the northernmost tower, Tower 1 (Fig. 7.7). In either case, once the sun had begun to move significantly away from either of its extreme rising positions a few days after each solstice, the various towers and gaps would have provided a means to track the progress of the sun up and down the horizon to within an accuracy of two or three days.

If we accept that the towers were used as foresights for solar observations, then does their disposition suggest anything about the way the year might have been broken down? The flat tops of the towers originally formed their own smooth, “false” horizon, their varying heights compensating to some extent for the slope of the hill on which they were built. This false horizon was broken at intervals by deep, narrow cuts formed by the gaps between the towers. When viewed from the western observing point, the sun rose for just one or two days in each gap. One possibility, then, is that critical sunrises were observed in the gaps. However, the regularity of the gaps argues against this, suggesting instead that the year was divided into regular intervals. The

Table 7.1. The annual movement of sunrise against the line of towers as viewed from the western observing point.

.

This table lists the declination of the center top of each tower, and the gap between each pair of towers. The following columns show the dates in the year (using the Gregorian calendar, taking the June solstice as June 21) when the sun would have risen at the point in question, and the intervals (numbers of days) between sunrises in successive gaps. The quoted dates and the intervals are only accurate to within ± 1 day at best, with larger errors possible near the solstices, where the daily change in the sunrise position is extremely small.

Table 7.2. The annual movement of sunset against the line of towers as viewed from the eastern observing point.

.

The details are similar to Table 7.1. Note that Tower 13 was not visible, and that no gaps were visible between Towers 12 and 11 or between Towers 11 and 10.

sunrises in the gaps between the central towers, Towers 3 to 11, were all separated by time intervals of (or close to) 10 days, implying that a 10-day interval may have been a feature of the solar calendar. However, the time intervals are longer between the outer towers in the line, where the sunrise moves along more slowly. Furthermore, the situation is different from the eastern observing point (Fig. 7.8), since no gaps would have been visible between the southernmost towers in the line as far as Tower 10 (and

7.7 The Thirteen Towers as viewed from the western observing point, annotated with the positions of sunrise at the solstices, equinoxes, and the dates of zenith and antizenith passage in c. 300 BCE. Tower 1 is the leftmost tower in the image.

7.8 The Thirteen Towers as viewed from the eastern observing point, annotated with the positions of sunset at the solstices, equinoxes, and the dates of zenith and antizenith passage in c. 300 BCE. Tower 1 is the rightmost tower in the image.

7.9 June solstice sunrise between Cerro Mucho Malo and Tower 1, as viewed from the western observing point today. The position of the June solstitial sunrise has shifted rightwards by about 0.3° since 300 BC.

possibly 9), and the remaining gaps correspond to time intervals between sunsets of 11 or 12 days (Table 7.2).

From the eastern observing point, the December solstice sun set into the left side of the leftmost visible tower whereas the June solstice sun set into the right side of the rightmost tower. From the western observing point, the December solstice sun rose up from the top of the rightmost tower while the June solstice sun rose a little way up the slopes of Cerro Mucho Malo (Fig. 7.9). There is an evident symmetry here also, suggesting that this natural hill was perceived as the leftmost “tower” in this profile. Midwinter would have been the one time of year when the sun was seen to emerge from a natural hill rather than a human construction.

Equinoctial sunrise (declination 0.0°) occurred in the central gap directly between Towers 6 and 7. If Cerro Mucho Malo is included, so that there are thirteen gaps, then this is the central one. In the other direction, equinoctial sunset occurred just to the right of this same gap, which seen from the east is the central gap within the twelve visible towers. However, the applicability of the concept of the equinox outside a Western conceptual framework is highly questionable.19 If, as here, there is clear evidence that a mechanism existed to help count off the days, then the mid-days between the solstices (the “temporal equinoxes” or “Thom equinoxes”) are more likely to have been significant. In 300 BC, the sun’s declination on these days was between +0.6° and +1.0°, and there is no evidence that these days were specially marked.

Table 7.3. The annual movement of sunrise against the line of towers as viewed from the western observing point.

.

The data given for the sides and center-top of each tower consist of the (true) azimuth, altitude, and declination, quoted to the nearest 0.1°. The following columns show the dates in the year (using the Gregorian calendar, taking the June solstice as June 21) when the sun would have risen behind the point in question, and the dates when it would have risen in the gaps between each pair of towers. The quoted dates, and the quoted intervals (numbers of days) between them, are only accurate to within ± 1 day at best, with larger errors possible near the solstices, where the daily change in the sunrise position is extremely small.

Table 7.4. The annual movement of sunset against the line of towers as viewed from the eastern observing point.

.

The details are similar to Table 7.3. Note that Tower 13 was not visible, and that no gaps were visible between Towers 12 and 11 or between Towers 11 and 10.

Ivan Ghezzi and Clive Ruggles

7.10 (A) Warrior ceramic figurine. Weapon types found at Chankillo: (B) spear; (C), (D) and (E) clubs; (F) spear-thrower; (G) darts; (H) sling; (I) shield.

A variety of evidence suggests that the date of solar zenith passage was significant to early cultures in the American tropics in general and in the Andes in particular.20 It has also been suggested that the dates of solar antizenith passage might have been of significance in Inca Cusco,21 although this idea has been debated.22 However, there is nothing in the pattern of disposition of the towers to suggest that it was deliberately preconceived in relation to sunrise or sunset on these dates. Only zenith passage sunset falls close to (and even then, not exactly within) a gap between two towers.

Astronomical “explanations” can be fitted notoriously easily to preexisting alignments. Repeated instances of solar and lunar alignments can provide strong evidence of intentionality, as among many local groups of later prehistoric tombs and temples in Britain, Ireland and Europe.23 However, at a unique site there is always a danger of circular argument if the judgment of what might have been significant to people in the past is made solely on the basis of the alignment evidence itself. Fortuitous stellar alignments are particularly likely, given the number of stars in the sky and the fact that their positions change steadily over the centuries owing to precession. The Chankillo towers, on the other hand, just span (to within a couple of degrees) the solar rising and setting arcs as seen from two observing points, each clearly defined by a unique structure with no other apparent purpose. Thus we are not selecting putative astronomical targets from innumerable possibilities but seeing direct indications of all four solstitial rising and setting points—astronomical “targets” whose broad significance across cultures is self-evident and widely attested.

It is uncontroversial to postulate direct observations of the annual movement of the rising or setting sun along the horizon for the purposes of regulating seasonal events such as religious festivals, or for maintaining a seasonal calendar. Nonetheless, evaluating the nature of the observations made and the social and ritual context within which they operated and derived their relevance is not simple. This point is well illustrated by recent debates concerning the function of the so-called E-group structures in the Mayan heartlands of the Peten, Guatemala.24 In the case of the Thirteen Towers and nearby plazas, we can infer, they provided a setting for people participating in public rituals and feasts directly linked to the observation and interpretation of the seasonal passage of the sun. By contrast, the observing points themselves appear to have been highly restricted. Individuals with the status to access them and conduct ceremonies would have had the power to regulate time, ideology, and the rituals that bound this society together. Additionally, the excavations at Chankillo have uncovered ceramic warrior figurines holding a great variety of offensive (and defensive) weapons (Fig. 7.10).25 The figurines wear signs of distinction, such as headdresses, shirts, and especially neck, chest, and nose ornaments. The artistic representation of these warriors, holding specialized weapons and wearing the symbols of their high status, indicates the possible rise of a class of war leaders and the centralization of power and authority in the hands of a few. Thus, sun worship and related cosmological beliefs at Chankillo could have helped to legitimize the authority of an elite, just as it did within the Inca empire two millennia later. And this, in its turn, implies that the towers were not a simple instrument for solar observation but the monumental expression of existing—and therefore by implication even older—knowledge.

There is increasing evidence that the sun cult, which as the official cult of the Inca empire, regulated calendrical ceremonies and supported the established social hierarchy, had precursors. For example, historically attested sunrise ceremonies at a sanctuary on the Island of the Sun in Lake Titicaca,26 surrounding a crag regarded as the origin place of the sun, almost certainly had pre-Incaic roots.27 Given the similarity between the solar observation device at Chankillo and the Cusco pillars documented some two millennia later,28 it seems likely that similar practices were common within many of the great states that developed in the Andes prior to, as well as including, the Inca empire.

Notes

We thank the numerous archaeologists and volunteers who participated in the Chankillo project, and especially J. L. Pino. We thank Yale University, Pontificia Universidad Católica del Peru, National Science Foundation, Wenner-Gren Foundation, The Field Museum, Schwerin Foundation, and Earthwatch Institute for support. R. Towner and K. Anchukaitis were instrumental in securing five samples for dendrochronological dating. The NSF funded all AMS radiocarbon dates. We thank the Asociación Cultural Peruano Británica in Lima, Peru, for logistical and financial support.

1.C.L.N. Ruggles in Archaeology: The Key Concepts, ed. A. C. Renfrew and P. G. Bahn (London and New York: Routledge, 2005), 11–16; C.L.N. Ruggles, Ancient Astronomy: An Encyclopedia of Cosmologies and Myth (Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2005).
2.A. F. Aveni, Skywatchers (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2001), 55–67.
3.Not all accurate sky-based seasonal calendars rely upon horizon observations of the sun: one exception is the traditional calendar of the Borana of Ethiopia and Kenya (M. Bassi, Current Anthropology 29 [1988]:619), which is luni-stellar.
4.S. C. McCluskey, Journal for the History of Astronomy, 8 (1977):174.
5.A. F. Aveni and H. Hartung, Transactions of the American Philosophical Society 76:7 (1986):1.
6.I. Šprajc, Orientaciones Astronómicas en la Arquitectura Prehispánica de México (México DF: Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia, 2001).
7.M. S. Ziótkowski and R. M. Sadowski, eds., Time and Calendars in the Inca Empire (Oxford: BAR International Series 479, 1989); B. S Bauer and D.S.P. Dearborn, Astronomy and Empire in the Ancient Andes (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995).
8.R. T. Zuidema, The Ceque System of Cuzco: The Social Organization of the Capital of the Inca (Leiden: Brill, 1964); A. F. Aveni, Stairways to the Stars (New York: Wiley, 1997), 147– 176; B. S. Bauer, The Sacred Landscape of the Inca: The Cusco Ceque System (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1998).
9.Bauer and Dearborn, Astronomy and Empire in the Ancient Andes, 67–100.
10.I. Ghezzi in Andean Archaeology III: North and South, ed. W. Isbell and H. Silverman (New York: Springer, 2006), 67–84.
11.C. Bronk Ramsey, Radiocarbon 37, 425 (1995); C. Bronk Ramsey, Radiocarbon 43, 355 (2001).
12.F. G. McCormac et al., Radiocarbon 46, 1087 (2004).
13.J. R. Topic and T. L. Topic in Arqueologia, Antropologia e Historia en los Andes:

Homenaje a Maria Rostworowski, ed. R. Varon and J. Flores (Lima: IEP, 1997), 567–590.

14.Ghezzi in Andean Archaeology III, 67–84.
15.I. Ghezzi, Proyecto Arqueológico Chankillo: Informe de la Temporada 2003 (Lima: Instituto Nacional de Cultura, 2004).
16.Ibid.
17.C.L.N. Ruggles, Astronomy in Prehistoric Britain and Ireland (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), ix.
18.Ibid., 18, 24, 57.
19.C.L.N. Ruggles, Archaeoastronomy 22 (supplement to Journal for the History of Astronomy 28) (1997):S45.
20.A. F. Aveni, Skywatchers, 40–46, 265–269.
21.R. T. Zuidema in Archaeoastronomy in the Americas, ed. R. A. Williamson (Los Altos: Ballena Press, 1981), 319–342.
22.B. S. Bauer and D.S.P. Dearborn, Astronomy and Empire in the Ancient Andes, 94–98.
23.C.L.N. Ruggles, Astronomy in Prehistoric Britain and Ireland, 91–111; M. A. Hoskin, Tombs, Temples and Their Orientations (Bognor Regis: Ocarina Books, 2001).
24.A. F. Aveni and H. Hartung in World Archaeastronomy, ed. A. F. Aveni (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 441–461; A. F. Aveni, A. S. Dowd, and B. Vining, Latin American Antiquity 14 (2003):159; G. R. Aylesworth, Archaeoastronomy: The Journal of Astronomy in Culture 18 (2004):34.
25.Ghezzi in Andean Archaeology III, 67–84.
26.B. S. Bauer and C. Stanish, Ritual and Pilgrimage in the Ancient Andes: The Islands of the Sun and the Moon (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2001).
27.D.S.P. Dearborn, M. T. Seddon, and B. S. Bauer, Latin American Antiquity 9 (1998):

240.

28.Bauer, Sacred Landscape.

 

Kallanka : Inca authority symbol

Resumen del documento en inglés:

Este artículo examina el diseño arquitectónico esculpido compuesto por una kallanka, una piedra labrada/enfatizada y una plaza en varios asentamientos Inka,y analiza como este diseño materializaba aspectos de la ideología del estado Inka. Una kallanka es una larga y publica estructura rectangular con numerosas puertas abriendo sobre una plaza. La plaza exhibe una piedra especial que podía quedarse tal cual, sin modificación, o al contrario presentarse tallada en un asiento.En la mayoría de los casos,la roca enfatizada era parte del concepto complejo del usnu que muchas veces tenía la forma física de una plataforma arquitectónica. Usnus podían ser asientos de un gobernante o asientos del Sol. La coincidencia filosófica entre la piedra y el usnu evoca varias asociaciones simbólicas. Este diseño existía en Cusco y también en diversas haciendas reales y ciudades elegidas en las fronteras del imperio Inka.Además las rocas enfatizadas eran relacionadas a espacios neutrales y a centros sagrados.Esto demuestra que gobernantes Inka usaron el diseño de manera personal para legitimar su autoridad política.

Did The Inka Copy Cusco? An Answer Derived From an Architectural-Sculptural Model
Autor: Jessica Joyce Christie
East Carolina University

.

In this essay, I discuss the possible political meanings of an architectural sculptural pattern found at many Inka settlements. It was developed in Cusco but was used in many parts of the empire to publicize Inka state ideology. This pattern consists of a plaza, a kallanka or kallanka-like buildings, and a carved or uncarved foregrounded rock.A kallanka is a long rectangular hall with numerous doors opening onto a plaza. The plaza exhibits a large rock or boulder which had

Journal ofLatin American and Caribbean Anthropology,Vol.12,No.1,pp.164–199.ISSN 1935-4932,online ISSN 1925-4940. © 2007 by the American Anthropological Association. All rights reserved. Please direct all requests for permissions to photocopy or reproduce article content through the University of California Press’s Rights and Permissions website, http://www.ucpressjournals.com/reprintinfo/asp. DOI: 10.1525/jlaca.2007.12.1.164

particular symbolic significance in state ritual, and could be slightly modified to elaborately sculpted.

The essay presents three major arguments: The first is that the Inka used the architectural pattern of a plaza, a kallanka, and a foregrounded rock (in the text often referred to as “the pattern”) deliberately and selectively to establish links with the capital. Such connections with Cusco were constructed at many royal estates and outlying border towns, which were marked in that way as neutral spaces and centers where the Inka state was symbolically present. The second claim I make in order to contribute to a better archaeological understanding of Inka sculpted rocks is that some carved rock, wak’as (carved rock shrines), functioned as usnus (usnus were masonry platforms or stones and functioned as seats; they will be defined in more depth below). Thirdly, I argue that individual emperors used the pattern selectively and sometimes also modified it, especially the usnu/rock, according to their own likings.

The Physical and Ethnographic Evidence: The Pattern at Cusco, the Capital

The archetypal example of the pattern in focus existed in the center of Cusco itself. I try to describe it below using colonial chronicles and secondary sources. There is no absolute certainty of what Inka Cusco looked like.The city was burnt by the Inka themselves when they attempted to reconquer their capital from Spanish occupation in 1535. The Spanish residents rebuilt Cusco as a Spanish colonial city (Rowe 1990). Thus, only eyewitnesses who saw the capital before 1535 constitute reliable sources of what Inka Cusco looked like. To reconstruct Inka Cusco, John Rowe (1967) uses five such eyewitness accounts, records of the distribution of house lots to Spanish settlers in 1534, as well as some archaeological data. The main plaza had two sectors, Awkaypata and Kusipata, which were separated by the Huatanay or Saphy River. I use the term “plaza”to mean an open space where people gathered in the context of an Inka settlement. Depending upon the type of settlement and its surrounding geography,plazas could be large open spaces,as in the capital,or more intimate courtyards, as in some royal estates.Victor Angles Vargas (1988:79–88) discusses the names and spellings of the two sections of the main plaza in Cusco. The Spanish writers spelled Awkaypata and Kusipata in a number of different ways due to their lack of understanding and interest in the Quechua language.The two names translate as “place of crying” (Awkaypata) and “place of rejoicing” (Kusipata) (Angles Vargas 1988:81–82; see also Cornejo Bouroncle 1946). Angles Vargas relates the names to Inka ritual practices. Many ceremonies began with ritual crying and grieving in the northeastern or Awkaypata sector and ended with a celebration, dancing, and feasting in the southwestern or Kusipata sector thus setting up a clear dichotomy between names and functions of both sectors.

Figure 1 Cusco: Main plaza of Awkaypata and Kusipata with the possible location of the usnu.

Adapted from Zuidema 1980.

The feature of greatest interest in this essay is the foregrounded rock (its Cusco version was the usnu). Nobody knows exactly what the usnu looked like or where in the main plaza it stood because the descriptions by the chroniclers are not consistent (see, for instance, D’Altroy 2002:115, 329; Bauer and Dearborn 1995:36). Tom Zuidema (1980) argues that there were two usnus used for solar observations in Inka Cusco. The concept of the usnu was extremely complex and some carved rocks shared some of its aspects. Due to this complexity, I discuss the Cusco usnu and its relevance for interpreting modified rocks in the second section of this essay.

The third feature of the pattern is the kallanka. Awkaypata was lined by several kallankas (see Bauer 2004:111–135; D’Altroy 2002:117).A kallanka is generally defined as a great hall or long structure with a gabled roof supported by a row of pillars set along the entire length of the long axis that has numerous door openings facing a plaza (Gasparini and Margolies 1980:196). Garcilaso de la Vega provides the most detailed description of the Cusco kallankas (1963:198, 260–262). He talks about four great halls or kallankas, the largest of which was the Qasana compound situated at the northwest corner of Awkaypata.

In many Inka houses, there were great halls [kallankas] measuring two hundred paces in length and 50 to 60 paces in width; each hall was one undivided open space where they held their festivals and dances when rainy weather did not allow them to celebrate in the plaza outside. In the city of Cozco, I counted four such halls which were still standing when I was a boy. One was in Amarucancha, among the houses belonging to Hernando Pizarro, where today the college of the Santa Compañía de Jesus stands; the other was in Cassana where my schoolmate Juan de Cillorico has his shops now; and the third one stood in Collcampata among the houses that belonged to Inca Paullu and his son don Carlos who was also my schoolmate. This hall was the smallest of the four, and the largest was the one at Cassana, which could hold three thousand people: this seems incredible as it was wood that had to cover and vault such vast spaces. The fourth great hall is the one that today serves as the Catholic Cathedral (Garcilaso de la Vega 1963:198).

Thus according to Garcilaso, the four kallankas differed in size. Size is one of the issues that has plagued a scholarly definition of kallanka in the recent literature (Gasparini and Margolies 1980:196, 210). There are many large and small rectangular buildings with unpartitioned interior space and numerous entryways opening onto plazas. But how long does such a building have to be in order to classify as a kallanka? In this essay, I disregard the debate about size, since there is no agreement about it and use the term kallanka in a general sense that includes any hall-like structure with multiple doors in the long side facing a plaza.

Garcilaso (1963:198) also says that kallankas sheltered ceremonies and spectators in case of inclement weather. Gasparini and Margolies (1980:199–201) discuss how the uses of kallankas were always public but likely differed depending upon the location and rank of a settlement within the Inka empire.According to ethnographic evidence,some kallankas—including the one that,according to Garcilaso,stood on the site of today’s Cathedral—functioned as audience and council houses.In conquered and administered territories away from the Cusco heartland, kallankas probably served multiple functions.At times,they may have provided shelter for public events during rainy weather. At other times, they may have been used as temporary lodgings for armies and mit’ayuq laborers (individuals who were relocated for a period of time to serve coerced rotational labor service to the Inka state (see D’Altroy 2002:327). The latter was also suggested by Craig Morris (2004b:22–23; Morris and Thompson 1985), who excavated one of the two kallankas at Huanuco Pampa and found no evidence of continuous or permanent occupation in that building.

A final intriguing question with regard to kallankas is whether they constitute a specifically Inka building type—which is what most scholars assume—or whether they, perhaps, had pre-Inka prototypes. William Isbell (2006:54–60) reconstructs the Central Mound or Main Platform on the east side of the Vegachayoq Moqo Palace complex at Huari as a terraced platform with a row of pilasters on the lower terrace. These pilasters supported a sloping roof, the other side of which rested on top of a wall originally composed of finely cut ashlars which marked the top of the building. He argues that this structure would have closely resembled an Inka kallanka and faced the courtyard of the U-shaped palace complex. There was no usnu at Vegachayoq Moqo,and thus the architectural design would not be an example of the pattern under discussion. If the Wari indeed erected kallankas, it would be another case of Inka appropriation of an earlier building form.

Returning to Cusco, kallankas lining the main plaza Awkaypata were in the Qasana compound, on the east side where today the Cathedral stands, as well as within the Amarukancha and Hatunkancha compounds (for a detailed description and reconstruction of the Cusco main plaza, see Hyslop 1990:34–44; Bauer 2004:111–135; Rowe 1967) (Figure 1).

The pattern of a special rock, kallanka/s, and a large plaza was repeated throughout the empire at numerous Inka settlements that had different functions,such as royal estates, administrative centers, border towns, and the new capital in exile,Vilcabamba the Old. It is however absent from other settlements that have the same functions. I address possible explanations for this below, when discussing specific examples. In general,the pattern may show up at any settlement where the Inka state had a presence and Inka identity was publicly performed.Its absence may be explained simply by the lack of archaeological excavation and by the geographic particularities of some sites.

The Pattern at Royal Estates

The earliest case is Juchuy Qosqo, Wiraqocha Inka’s estate, which is situated high above Calca overlooking the Urubamba Valley. The center of Juchuy Qosqo is laid out around the Main Plaza.

A kallanka building constructed on a terrace overlooks the plaza from the south. And on the west side, the plaza is fronted by two square, two-story structures built of finely-fitted stone masonry up to the second level above which the walls continue in adobe. In the southwestern corner of the plaza, below the kallanka, and next to the access steps to the upper terraces,sits a prominent and very intriguing sandstone boulder. Kendall, Early, and Sillar (1992:199) describe it as “a massive irregular column . . . sitting on a pedestal of the exposed natural surface of the site before terrace leveling and building took place.” They observed slow erosion processes underneath the boulder and think that the Inka arranged stones around its base. Kendall, Early, and Sillar (1992:199) offer two interpretations: first, the boulder seems to visualize deliberate alignments of light and shadow on the June solstice

Figure 2 Juchuy Qosqo: Plan of central area.

Adapted from Kendall, Early, and Sillar 1992.

sunrise; second, postulating that the stones around the boulder’s base may constitute the remains of a circular wall, they argue that the boulder might have been the base of a Sunturwasi and that their Sector I,occupied by the buildings around Plaza A2 (turned into a reservoir in the 19th century), functioned as a palace complex. A Sunturwasi is a round structure with a doorway and three windows that has a conical, thatched roof. It was one of the facilities in a royal palace (see the drawing by Guaman Poma de Ayala (1987:333).

The association of the sandstone boulder with solsticial alignments and with a Sunturwasi that is proposed by Kendall,Early,and Sillar is intriguing since Zuidema (1980:318–321) has demonstrated that the Sunturwasi in Cusco was one of the structures needed to conduct solar observations. In the morning of October 30 and February 13,the days when the sun passes through zenith in Cusco,the tall round tower of the Sunturwasi functioned as a gnomen when observed from the two usnus and cast a line of shadow pointing to the sunset on August 18 and April 23 when the sun crosses anti-zenith or nadir in Cusco (see Zuidema’s drawings 1980:318, 319, 320). Kendall, Early, and Sillar (1992:199) vaguely describe a play of light and shadow at sunrise on the June solstice that seems to aim at the boulder. Obviously, the scenarios at the Sunturwasi in Cusco and at the speculative Sunturwasi at Juchuy Qosqo are not the same. However, one might wonder whether any type of association of a foregrounded rock in the pattern with solar alignments may evoke a link with the model in Cusco.The close proximity between the sandstone boulder and the palace complex assumed to be in Sector I further reinforces the parallel with Cusco. The boulder also constitutes another wak’a with all its symbolic connotations and mediating qualities (see below).

Juchuy Qosqo represents a case which brings up a crucial issue with regard to chronology. The chronicles make it very clear that Wiraqocha Inka built Juchuy Qosqo and that his son Pachakuti gave central Cusco its present form. Would that mean that Juchuy Qosqo predates the archetypal model of the pattern under discussion? Can we ascertain under which ruler the Cusco usnu was erected? So far, precise ethnohistoric and archaeological data are lacking and we can only give general answers.Maria Rostworowski (1999:6–8) offers an ethnohistoric reconstruction of pre-Inka Cusco: the village of Acamama was situated between the Saphy and Tullumayo Rivers and contained a quadripartite division into four districts as well as a dual division equivalent to the hanan(upper) and hurin (lower in physical and symbolic respects) concept. The origin myth of the Ayar brothers speaks of the transformation of some of the brothers into powerful stone wak’as. Data of this nature allow for the general argument that certain fundamental spatial divisions of Cusco and belief structures, such as the metaphorical quality of stone, existed in pre-Inka and early Inka times. This brings me to argue that the boulder at Juchuy Qosqo constituted an important stone wak’a symbolizing the pan-Andean sacred essence of stone material (see below under stone ideology). It was certainly not a stone usnu, a feature which was formalized by Pachakuti in the process of rebuilding Cusco and during the expansion of the Inka state. Bauer (2004:74–78) presents an archaeological reconstruction of Cusco during the Killke Period (or Early Inka; time period and culture in the Cusco basin immediately preceding the development of the Inka state) before imperial expansion took place: he documents numerous locations within the city where Killke deposits (mostly ceramics, but also building foundations) have been found. Thus, archaeological data point to an extensive Killke settlement at the site of the later Inka capital; however, these data cannot (yet?) tell us what this settlement looked like and whether it had an usnu and kallankas.

Some of Pachakuti’s private properties exhibit the pattern and Machu Picchu is the most explicit example.There is a kallanka overlooking a plaza with a carved rock on a lower terrace.In this case,the terrace construction creates the open space of an asymmetrical plaza. The rock is often referred to as the Ceremonial Rock (see Wright and Valencia Zegarra 2001:6–12). Unlike Awkaypata and Kusipata, which mark the very center of Cusco, this plaza is situated outside the wall which features the official entrance gateway to Machu Picchu. The pattern did not have to be

Figure 3 Machu Picchu: Plaza, kallanka, and carved rock, commonly known as the “Ceremonial Rock.”

Plan drawing by Jessica Christie.

manifest inside and in the center of settlements. Indeed, the material evidence of large numbers of potsherds from drinking vessels found in the plaza (Wright and Valencia Zegarra 2001:12) suggests that drinking chicha was a common activity.The consumption of chicha was and is an important component of Andean feasting and ritual and it seems very reasonable to argue that Pachakuti organized such festivities for agricultural workers who did not live inside the perimeter wall of his estate and for other local people from the surrounding area (Salazar 2004:47). The Ceremonial Rock was beautifully sculpted into platforms and steps and could have functioned as a seat and altar during such rituals.

Wright and Valencia Zegarra (2001:8–10) note that some round rocks strewn around this boulder sculpture come from the Urubamba River to make the sacred river which gushes deep below and the watery underworld present.Furthermore,this carved rock appears to be an example par excellence of an usnu. I discuss this below.

Figure 4 Machu Picchu: Carved rock known as the “Ceremonial Rock.”

Photo by Jessica Christie.

Vitcos, another royal estate of Pachakuti,is situated on a flattened ridge and has a small plaza lined by kallanka-like buildings.From this possible palace complex,an Inka road led south to another terraced hill which holds the building group that encloses the sculpted Yurak Rumi Rock (see Lee 2000). Vitcos demonstrates the architectural sculptural features of the pattern—a modest plaza, kallanka-like structures,and a special sculpted rock—but their spatial alignment is disconnected. Therefore Vitcos may not share the pattern which would align it with Pisaq and Ollantaytambo, two additional and very important estates of Pachakuti located in the Urubamba Valley. Pisaq is divided into numerous sectors which crown the mountain ridge line overlooking the valley and the contemporary town of Pisaq.In this case, the topography was not conducive for elaborating the pattern since the ridge locations do not provide sufficient space to construct large plazas. Ollantaytambo as well had different sectors, one in the flat valley bottom of the Patakancha River and the other on the hillside which contains the famous so-called Sun Temple. There would certainly have been space for the pattern but the Inka apparently did not use it here. This impression is based upon the structures and spaces visible today. But Ollantaytambo has been remodeled more often than Pachakuti’s other estates: Manqo Inka used it as a military fortress; the late Inka architectural style of the ‘Araqhama Sector; and the contemporary town which occupies and sits on top of part of the Inka site. Jean-Pierre Protzen (1993:50–53) has shown that there was indeed a plaza opening within the kancha zone and he thinks this plaza was

Figure 5 Callachaca: Sector F, T-shaped plaza group, plan.

Drawing by Susan Niles.

bounded by kallankas. This area has been built over with houses and if there ever was a sacred rock, it has disappeared. Therefore the pattern cannot be documented for Ollantaytambo.

Amaru Thupa Inka, Pachakuti’s oldest son who was supposed to become emperor according to the system of succession, used the same architectural pattern in his estate at Callachaca.Callachaca spreads in several sectors over the hillsides east of Cusco. The one of interest is Susan Niles’ Sector F (Niles 1987:fig.1.3, 106–114). What she calls the T-shaped Plaza Group is a plaza in the form of a thick-stemmed T which is fronted by two partly preserved kallanka-like halls in the north and by a rock outcrop in the south.

The rear walls of the kallankas were built into a hill and their doorways open onto the plaza. The outcrop exhibits several manmade modifications which Niles describes as nooks and elaborations of natural crevices some of which evidence high skills of craftsmanship. She interprets the resulting chamber-like open spaces as tombs. On its south side, the outcrop has at least one seat-like sculpture facing south across the Huatanay Valley which means away from the plaza. Further, this sculpture is not visible from the plaza.Therefore,while it could well have functioned as a seat or throne,its ritual context was most likely unrelated to the T-shaped plaza. Chinchero, the well documented estate of Thupa Inka Yupanki, offers another case of our pattern. Here it focuses on Structure 11 and several carved rocks which form

Figure 6 Chinchero: Plan of Great Plaza area.

Adapted from Alcina Franch 1976.

the southeastern corner of the Great Plaza (for a detailed analysis of the architecture, see Alcina Franch 1976:100–114).

Structure 11 was built over a natural outcrop resulting in a pyramidal volume which consists of four platform levels. The carved outcrop Pumaccacca constitutes the focal point of Structure 11 and sits approximately at its center. It towers about six meters above the level of the Great Plaza and Alcina Franch (1976:106) likens its form “to an eruption of the mountain coming out of its interior, which turns over on the outside and overflows.” I think this verbal image may well describe part of the sacred character the Inka saw in this rock. The carvings are vertical and horizontal cuts forming planes and two sculpted pumas with crossed legs.

Pumaccacca has to be understood in relation to four other carved rocks situated nearby: first is a smaller rock with a seat-like carving which is located at the foot of Structure 1 and in the southeastern corner of the Great Plaza (Figure 6); the second and third sculpted rocks sit on the third platform; the fourth carved boulder is on top of the outcrop on and around which Structure 11 was built.

Structure 11 with Pumaccacca and the four additional carved rocks is situated in the southeast corner of the Great Plaza (Figure 6). The south side of the Plaza is lined by Structures 1, 2, and 3. In particular, Structures 1 and 3 form long rectangles

Figure 7 Chinchero: Structure 11, Pumaccacca, carvings.

Photo by Jessica Christie.

which open to the Plaza with six (Structure 1) and seven (Structure 3) double-jamb windows or entryways (see Figure 6). Structure 1 measures 48 meters in length, Structure 2is 17.80meters,and Structure 3is 42meters long (Gasparini and Margolies 1980:214). They are built on a terrace and their floor level is higher than that of the plaza and therefore access is accomplished from the short lateral sides via two passageways between the buildings. They exhibit the general diagnostics of kallankas and I think at least Structures 1 and 3 fall into this category. The elevated level and the lateral access to the Chinchero kallankas might have made it difficult for large numbers of people to enter at one time but the elevation is low enough that the openings to the plaza could as well have been used as doorways.

Thus the setting and formal elements of Pumaccacca as well as some of the associated smaller carved rocks make them excellent candidates for the pattern with the type of usnu that functioned as elevated throne of the ruler. These issues will be explored in greater depth in Section Two.

Wayna Qhapaq’s well documented estate at Urubamba and Yucay also used the pattern,though in a diminished form,in the palace complex of Quispiguanca.Niles and Robert Batson (Niles 1999) investigated the standing architectural remains, placed them in context, and documented them in a number of plan and reconstruction drawings, some of them in color.

The drawings illustrate that the monumental entrance to Quispiguanca lay on the east side of the complex between two gatehouses. Once the visitor had passed through the portal, he or she stood in the main plaza in the middle of which sat a

Figure 8 Urubamba: Quispiguanca Palace, reconstruction.

Drawing by Susan Niles and Robert Batson.

pronounced white boulder and a possible platform construction.North of this plaza, there were two symmetrical kancha compounds facing each other across an open space.On the side toward the open space,each kancha was fronted by a kallanka and two small rectangular buildings occupied the middle of the open space. Niles (1999: fig.6.2, 171–176), who shows that the unmodified white boulder is not at the exact center point of the plaza, argues that it was accompanied by another structure, possibly a platform,which marked the precise midpoint.The latter probably functioned as a shrine. It is now topped by a Catholic chapel located at the east end of the present cemetery and therefore cannot be reconstructed.Niles also thinks that water may have been channeled through the midline of the plaza, over or around the rock and its shrine, and on to the south terrace wall. Today water drops down the south terrace façade of the palace and during Wayna Qhapaq’s time, it would have been collected in an artificial lake described in the documents (Villanueva Urteaga 1971:38). In 2003, INC (Instituto Nacional de la Cultura) was excavating at Quispiguanca.

The Quispiguanca example reinforces our pattern with a foregrounded but uncarved rock. The fact that we have no idea whether there truly was an adjacent structure and if so, what it looked like, opens doors to speculation. It simply seems reasonable to suggest that given the central position of the white boulder and its possible companion structure,the two served as a focal point for ritual activity.This ritual activity could have been primarily political and related to the usnu concept, and it is conceivable that Wayna Qhapaq sat on the speculative platform overseeing events on the plaza.Or the rituals might have been religious in nature,during which offerings were brought to the boulder and water.

The cases discussed above represent royal estates of Inka rulers presented in a chronological order and situated in a reasonable vicinity to Cusco. We have seen that the pattern using a sculpted rock is most strongly developed on the properties of 176

Pachakuti and his sons Thupa Inka and Amaru Thupa Inka while his father Wiraqocha Inka and Wayna Qhapaq used uncarved boulders.Let us now look at governance sites and administrative centers further away from Cusco to investigate where the pattern is present.Royal estates can be closely connected with individual rulers and remained the properties of their panacas (royal lineages composed of the descendants of the deceased ruler but excluding the son who became the new ruler). Governance and administrative sites are more problematic because historical and archaeological data do not always clearly link them with specific rulers, and because they typically experienced various rebuilding phases and are often partly covered by present-day towns. Further, the number of cases I present can by no means claim to be a complete list of all Inka sites with the pattern. My goal is to introduce a representative sample to build a solid argument that the pattern this study is investigating is indeed meaningful and was deliberately employed in a significant number of Inka settlements.

The Pattern at Outlying Governance Sites and Administrative Centers

An example far away from the capital is the immense sculpted outcrop of Samaipata in Bolivia. It is not entirely clear whether the Inka settlement of Samaipata was constructed during the reigns of Pachakuti, Thupa Inka Yupanki, or Wayna Qhapaq. The crucial point is that it has a Great Plaza faced by a kallanka and overlooking both is the gigantic outcrop.

Figure 9 Samaipata: Plan view of site.

Drawing by Albert Meyers.

Figure 10 Samaipata: Carved outcrop, south side, niches and seats above.

Photo by Jessica Christie.

Among many other carvings, the south side of the rock displays a long row of sculpted seats from which spectators could have observed events in the plaza. Thus, in this case,the foregrounded rock could have served as an usnu for a number of individuals. Indeed,Albert Meyers (1998:67) has called the carved outcrop a giant usnu.

While this remains a possibility, it is also a great oversimplification of the complicated case of Samaipata.The outcrop exhibits a large number of sculptures serving a variety of purposes, for example, the long canals with the rhomboid pattern versus the seats and niches. Albert Meyers (1997) distinguishes two phases in the process of carving and elaborating the rock: in the first phase, the Inka would have sculpted the canals, seats, and steps.When integrated into ritual performance, these works would have forced the participants to look down or to orient themselves toward the rock and the earth.In the second phase,Inka artisans cut the niches into the north and south sides of the outcrop, added the possible temple walls to the south side as well as the L-shaped wall with niches on top of the rock. During ritual performance, participants would now face the niches which might have been filled with figurines or mummies. Their vision would expand further toward the horizon and mountain peaks and would no longer remain static and earth-bound. According to Meyers (1997), this view toward the horizon line and the sky and the use of transportable objects is characteristic of a conquest society. There is also the issue of distance.Anybody sitting on the carved rock seats would not be able to recognize specific actors and events held on the plaza without the use of binoculars.

Nevertheless, it seems legitimate to argue that the monumental presence of the giant outcrop always loomed above the ritual participants in the plaza as a constant reminder of the symbolic and mediating qualities associated with the essence of stone in Andean worldview (see more below). As an afterthought, it is intriguing that Albert Meyers and Cornelius Ulbert (1997) documented a plaza containing a stepped platform with a stairway facing a kallanka at the northern complex of the site of La Fortaleza located some 50 km air-line distance east of Samaipata. This constitutes a clear example of the pattern under discussion: a plaza,a kallanka, and a foregrounded rock that has been replaced by an usnu construction.

Inkallaqta was another settlement located far to the south,east of Cochabamba, in the area of the ancient Pocona in what is now Bolivia (Gasparini and Margolies 1980:207–212).Roberto Teran (cited by Gasparini and Margolies 1980:210) notes that it was built by Thupa Inka between 1463 and 1472. Inkallaqta has a very large kallanka measuring 78 meters long by 26 wide and covering an area of 2028 square meters.The façade fronting the plaza exhibits twelve narrow doorways.Between the sixth and the seventh doors are the remains of a small stepped platform which has been identified as an usnu (see Zuidema 1980 above). Thus, the Inkallaqta case shows an interesting play of scale: a miniature usnu abutting an exceptionally large kallanka. A variant of the pattern under discussion appears to be present in that Inkallaqta has a small stepped platform instead of the foregrounded rock.

Going north, an important administrative center in the northern highlands situated on the qhapaq nan (north-south imperial road) was Huanuco Pampa, which was investigated by Craig Morris (Morris and Thompson 1985). Huanuco Pampa has a large plaza with a dominant usnu platform near its center (Hyslop 1990:27, 203–206,215–218;Morris 2004b:42–56).Elite architecture borders the east side of the plaza, which is known as Sector IIB. The entrance to this elite sector passes between two kallankas (Gasparini and Margolies 1980:201–206). Sector IIB is composed of a series of patio enclosures used for feasting with increasingly restricted access as one moves from the plaza to the inner patios. The gateways leading to the individual enclosures are aligned with the usnu platform in the plaza. Again, a variant of the pattern is present with the centrally situated usnu in the large plaza and two kallankas forming the main entrance to the elite Sector IIB. Yet the usnu is a masonry platform and not a carved rock.

Further south and also located along the qhapaq nan was the administrative center of Vilcaswaman which Cieza de León (1959:126) describes as the geographical middle or center of the Inka empire because the distance from Quito to Vilcaswaman was said to equal the distance from Vilcaswaman to Chile. According to Cieza de León (1959:126–127), Pachakuti began construction at Vilcaswaman and Thupa Inka enlarged it and commissioned additional buildings.Although the features of the pattern are not well preserved, it is clearly present: in what used to be the Inka plaza stands an usnu which originally consisted of five stepped platforms. This usnu was set into a walled compound and accessed through probably three double-jamb doorways (Gasparini and Margolies 1980:271–277). The surviving central door opens directly to the single stairway which leads to the top

Figure 11 Vilcabamba the Old: Reconstruction of Central Sector.

Drawing by Vincent Lee.

platform of the usnu where a cube-like stone block with two precisely cut seats still stands. It represents a wonderful merging of the usnu concepts of the stacked platforms and the sculpted stone seats.The remains of a large kallanka-type structure are found behind the usnu. What makes Vilcaswaman further so important is the fact that two detailed descriptions of its usnu and how it was used have survived (see below).

Chronologically the latest example is Vilcabamba the Old documented by Vincent Lee (2000). Vilcabamba was Manqo Inka’s last refuge where he built a new capital that was likely inspired by the layout and the divisions of Cusco (Lee 2000:413; Christie 2006a). Nicole Delia Legnani (2005:36) has reinforced that Vilcabamba was envisioned as a new Cusco and new Inka center of Qhapaq status in her reading of the Titu Cusi manuscript: for example, because Manqo Inka transferred the Sun idol Punchaw from Cusco to Vilcabamba. Punchaw had been commissioned by Pachakuti and embodied the belief that the Inka were descendants of Inti, the Sun, and it was further coupled with the Inka’s sacred right of territorial expansion. Given the fact that the entire site is covered by dense jungle, the surveying and mapping work Lee undertook is absolutely remarkable. At the same time,as INC excavations are now being conducted (in 2005),some of his plans may have to be altered. It appears that Vilcabamba the Old was divided into a physically Upper and Lower Sector of buildings.Roughly in between these sectors entered the main road from the southeast: it passes by fountains which have run dry, crosses a

Figure 12 Vilcabamba the Old: Foregrounded boulder.

Photo by Jessica Christie.

stream, and after being squeezed in tightly between Building Groups 14 and 15, it opens into the main plaza.This plaza is bordered by Groups 16 and 17 in the southwest and northeast and by a long kallanka hall in the northwest. Lee (2000:413) interprets Groups 14 and 16 as hanan (upper) and 15 and 17 as hurin (lower) sectors in the context of the plaza.On the northeast side of the kallanka and connected to it by a wall sits a large unmodified boulder.

It measures nearly eight by twelve meters across and five meters high and Lee (2000:413) thinks it may be oriented “toward the ushnu-like platform of Group 16.” I find this association too speculative since the platform of Group 16 is really a terrace accessed by a short stairway, whose other function is that of a platform foundation for a kancha formation of houses. The prominence of the boulder and its connection with high-status architecture are unquestionable.

It has to be repeated that Vilcabamba is situated in deep lowland jungle, a natural environment unfamiliar to the Inka. High mountains are absent and their symbolic connotations most likely poorly understood by local people. Therefore, it is significant that Manqo Inka placed or left the boulder (I assume this was the original position of the large block) in such a prominent spot. I suggest his intention was to replicate the architectural pattern used by his predecessors, which I have been documenting. The claim articulated by the plaza-kallanka-special rock configuration was that Vilcabamba was meant to be a new version of Cusco and a royal property.

Relationships between Carved Rock Wak’as and Usnus

The most tantalizing and complex element of the pattern is without a doubt the special rock. Its archetypal Cusco version was known as the usnu or possibly two usnus (Zuidema 1980). There remains much confusion in the literature about what the usnu(s) looked like and where exactly it/they stood because the accounts by the chroniclers are fragmentary and inconsistent on this issue. In this section, I first reconstruct what we know about the Cusco usnu and show which foregrounded rocks in the pattern may most closely resemble it in physical form.Secondly,I address conceptual aspects of stone as a material in Andean worldview which may link the formally different rock wak’as and usnus of the pattern on a symbolic spiritual level.

In Cusco, Betanzos describes the usnu as “a stone made like a sugarloaf pointed on top and covered with a strip of gold” (1996:47–49). Associated with it or next to it was a stone font or basin for holding liquids. Around this stone font, the people of Cusco buried gold statuettes representing the most important lords of each lineage in the city. “In the middle of the font they put the stone that represented the Sun” (Betanzos 1996:48). This was meant as an offering to the Sun, mirroring the social organization of Cusco and its history. It might very well have constituted a parallel to the zeq’e system (a radial system of forty-one imagined lines defined by shrines/wak’as) which had its center in the Qorikancha (the Inka Temple of the Sun) and each radiating zeq’e was maintained by a Cusco lineage. In this manner, the two symbolic centers of Cusco, the usnu and Qorikancha, merged.

It is significant that Betanzos clearly distinguishes between the stone or gold statue representing the Sun which was kept in the Sun Temple and the stone usnu in the plaza. He explains (Betanzos 1996:48) that the stone (usnu) in the plaza was for the common people to worship while the statue of the Sun in the temple was for the lords. The ceremony during which this Sun statue was placed on the font was a symbolic performance of the discourse between the ruler and his subjects. When the Sun stood upon the font or basin made to hold liquids which could be drained through underground channels, it became the symbolic axis mundi or world axis connecting the vertical divisions of the cosmos. This was the role appropriated by the Inka ruler for himself and acted out when he sat on any usnu.His subjects stood and perhaps were grouped around him like the gold statuettes they had buried in the ground. I suggest such a symbolic context was paramount for the architectural pattern under discussion and that it provided the stage background for similar interactions between the ruler and commoners at many other settlements.

In three authoritative publications,John Hyslop (1990:69–101),Zuidema (1980), and F. M. Meddens (1997) have discussed the Cusco usnus, other usnus, and the complex symbolic connotations associated with them. They conclude that usnus could assume a number of material forms: they could be stone pillars, stone seats, stone basins or fonts linked to underground channels, platforms, or truncated pyramids. Depending on their forms, usnus could have a variety of functions. Hyslop (1990:70–72) focuses on usnu platforms and observes that they are rare to absent in the immediate Cusco region but common in conquered territories. He implies that the concept of the personified axis mundi as defined in Cusco functioned as a state symbol and was exported to the outlying regions of the empire.As explained above, the axis mundi could be called into presence interchangeably by the Sun idol placed upon the font or by the ruler seated on an usnu platform in the main plaza. Thus usnu platforms and/or seats brought together Inka nobility who would assume the elevated position on the usnus and common and non-Inka peoples who occupied the great plazas.When the ruler took his position upon the usnu, he oversaw rituals and military reviews, addressed his army, and perhaps also spoke justice in the role of a judge (see Gasparini and Margolies 1980:271). In reference to the Cusco example, the usnu may have stood precisely between the Awkaypata and Kusipata plaza sectors. In the greater context of the capital, the whole main plaza constituted the dividing line between the hanan (upper) and hurin (lower) divisions and the four roads of the empire departed from it to the four suyus (quarters of the empire). The dualistic and quadripartite structures of Inka social and political organization may well have been reflected in the Awkaypata—Kusipata division and performed and dramatized on the usnu (see Rostworowski 1983:130–179).

Zuidema (1980:357) emphasizes the idea that the usnu symbolizes an opening in the ground through which the earth sucks in rain water;this aspect of the usnu takes on material substance in the basin and drainage system as well as in the canalized Saphy River if indeed it stood on top of it. Angles Vargas (1988:76–77) and others place the usnu exactly in between the Awkaypata and Kusipata sectors on top of the canalized Saphy River. In this interpretation, it had direct access to underground waterways and its mediating qualities were physically brought out by its very position between Awkaypata and Kusipata.

But the usnu also marks an observation point of the Sun (Zuidema 1980: 318–331). At least a dozen chroniclers mention the existence of sets of small towers or stone pillars on the eastern and western horizons of Cusco (Bauer and Dearborn 1995:67–100, Hyslop 1990:61–62). One point of observation may have been the usnu in the Awkaypata plaza.The Anonymous Chronicler (in Bauer and Dearborn 1995:35) describes the four western pillars and states that:

When the sun reached the first pillar they prepared for the general planting and began to plant vegetables in the heights, as slower [to mature], and when the sun reached the two pillars in the middle,was the point and the general time of the planting in Cuzco, and it was always in the month of August. It is in this way that, to take the point of the sun between the central two pillars they had another pillar in the middle of the plaza, [a] pillar of well worked stone one estado in height, in a suitable indicated place, that they called usnu, and from there they watched the sun between the two pillars,and when it was exactly there,it was the time for sowing in the Cuzco Valley and its region.

While the Anonymous Chronicler states that sunset between the western central pillars was observed from the usnu, he does not say who watched it. We might assume that he implies the ruler seated on the Cusco usnu.Dearborn (2000) makes the interesting argument that the distances between the pillars which the Anonymous Chronicler provides are much too wide to specify a precise date. According to Dearborn’s calculations,the Sun would appear to set between the central pillars for nearly a week as seen from the usnu in mid-August.The large separation of the pillars also allowed most of the people gathered in Awkaypata/Kusipata to watch the sunset and not exclusively the ruling Inka on the usnu.Dearborn concludes that the primary objective of solar observation from the Cusco usnu was not astronomical in the sense of fixing a precise date, but ritual, meaning that all the people in the plaza watched the Sun set. Dearborn’s argument gives important insights into the discourse between the ruler and common people as it was acted out at the usnu in the context of watching the Sun, who himself was an Inka deity and the progenitor of the ruling Inka dynasty. Zuidema (1980:331) observes that on four important dates in each year, the Sun and the Moon stood exactly above at zenith and below at nadir of the Cusco usnu, reversing their positions between noon and midnight. This alignment further imparts the usnu a role of central axis between the underworld and the sky.Meddens (1997:10) stresses the roles of different usnus as seats of the Sun or of the Inka ruler.

One important issue in the usnu discussion which bears upon the pattern under study is the question of its origin. Zuidema (1978 cited by Hyslop 1990:72) thinks that the usnu as a platform developed from the seat of the Sun or the stone set in the Awkaypata plaza of Cusco. In this scenario, the Cusco usnu would represent the earliest prototype for all later usnus and this line of reasoning would best support my argument in this essay. However, Santiago Agurto (cited by Hyslop 1990:72–73) has linked the usnu platform as an architectural form with pre-contact Andean coastal traditions in which buildings were commonly constructed from solid masses.Inka architecture,on the other hand,does not usually emphasize solid buildings. The hypothesis that solid buildings from the north coast inspired usnu platforms fits well with the observation that these platforms are rare in the immediate Cusco area but are found in outlying settlements established during the Inka state’s expansion often after the coast had been conquered. The origin of the usnu as a stone-basin-drain complex may be a separate matter. Examples of these features are fewer than the platform since their documentation requires archaeological excavation.Known Inka cases include Cusco,the platform in Vilcaswaman (Meddens 1997:5), and one of the platforms framing the lower plaza of Sayhuite. John Staller (N.d.) sees the stone-basin-drain aspect of the usnu as a concept tied to pan-Andean concerns with structure versus fluidity and the ritual use of liquids and drains.

The debate of the origin of the usnu affects this discussion because if the Cusco example truly constitutes the earliest prototype of the usnu, my argument stands on solid ground. If the usnu concept developed in the wake of Inka conquest and state expansion, then my argument is considerably weaker. I think that the usnu concept evolved from the shared pan-Andean symbolic associations surrounding stone.Most likely, there had been some kind of rock wak’a in the Cusco plaza before the rebuilding of the city under Pachakuti took place. Pachakuti and his successors devised the usnu as a special category of foregrounded rocks and as a state symbol and manifestation of Inka stone ideology.The formal vocabulary of the usnu was expanded from a single stone to include the basin and drain complex, seats, and the solid platform.

It appears that there were many different types of usnus and various functions they could fulfill. Each individual usnu did not play all its possible roles and I think that many carved rocks and particularly those which fall in the pattern under discussion shared aspects of the usnu as defined by Hyslop, Zuidema, and Meddens. In my view, Inka carved, sacred, and foregrounded rocks constituted a category much broader than usnus, and some of them exemplified the usnu concept as defined above. For example, the cases from Machu Picchu and Chinchero display carved seats or platforms which relate them to the usnu platform.Evidence for libation rites exists at many rocks in the form of sculpted channels; some examples include Samaipata,Kenko Grande,and Sayhuite.I don’t feel comfortable calling the foregrounded rocks in this study outright usnus; for instance,Carolyn Dean (2006) rightfully pointed out that usnu is one of the terms all too often “abused”by scholars to quickly designate any platform in any Inka plaza and that this term must be more critically used and more carefully defined. Yet they all share the material of stone with the Cusco usnu and more or less formal features,which justifies the conclusion that they had similar functions in the context of ritual performance.As I will argue below, the material essence of stone and its underlying symbolic qualities were the crucial bond that linked the Cusco usnu with all foregrounded rocks.

At Machu Picchu,the Ceremonial Rock was beautifully sculpted into platforms and steps and could well have functioned as an usnu during rituals (Figure 4). Indeed, the material evidence of large numbers of potsherds from drinking vessels found in the plaza (Wright and Valencia Zegarra 2001:12) suggests that drinking chicha was a common activity. The consumption of chicha was and is an important component of Andean feasting and ritual and it seems very reasonable to argue that Pachakuti organized such festivities for agricultural workers who did not live inside the walls of his estate and other local people from the surrounding area (Salazar 2004:47). Wright and Valencia Zegarra (2001:8–10) note that some round rocks strewn around this boulder sculpture come from the Urubamba River to metaphorically make the sacred river and the watery underworld present at the

Figure 13 Guaman Poma de Ayala, 398: Manqo Inka seated on the Cusco usnu.

rock and in the plaza.It is well conceivable that Pachakuti would have used the Ceremonial Rock as an usnu: when he had taken seat on the platform, he mediated in ritual between the lower cosmological layers and his father the Sun on behalf of his subjects who would have gathered around him in the plaza. Rituals of this nature brought to life before the eyes of local people aspects of state ideology which had been devised in Cusco, and that is what the pattern under study is all about. Guaman Poma de Ayala (1987:377, 391, 407) drew the royal usnu three times in a similar form as a stepped pyramid: Guaman’s page 398 illustrates Manqo Inka during his coronation ceremony on the stepped usnu in Cusco; page 374/384 shows Atawallpa seated on a stepped usnu in Cajamarca and Guaman’s page 369 depicts a stepped structure in the background of a scene with Wayna Qhapaq in Cusco.

At Chinchero, Pumaccacca and some of the nearby smaller carved rocks may have been used in a similar fashion as usnus in the form of elevated thrones of the ruler. When seated on one of the platforms of Pumaccacca, Thupa Inka Yupanki could have easily overseen and commanded events in the plaza. More mysterious are the two sculpted pumas. In the rare cases in Inka rock art where figurative imagery occurs, the puma is most frequently represented. This could be due to the general pan-Andean belief that the feline was charged with special powers.We know that Pachakuti wore a puma skin when he went to war (Salazar 2004:36). However, in this case,Pumaccacca could be an attempt to copy Pumaurqu,the place of emergence and origin of the Inka, and transfer it to Chinchero. Pumaurqu located south of Cusco in the Province of Paruro is a much larger and taller outcrop. Its top surface is similarly carved into seats, planes, and platforms and displays two pumas. While very speculative, Thupa Inka might have intended to align himself with this powerful origin place and especially with Manqo Qhapaq, the first mytho-historical ruler in the Inka dynasty. We know that Pachakuti, his father, ordered Pumaurqu be turned into a wak’a and that he most likely commissioned the carvings (after Sarmiento de Gamboa 1942:107). The origin places, Tampu T’oqo and Pacariqtambo,mentioned by Sarmiento de Gamboa have been identified with the sculpted outcrop of Pumaurqu and the nearby Inka settlement Maukallaqta (Bauer 1992: 109–123; Christie and Staller 2004). It is conceivable that Pachakuti’s son wanted to re-create his own Pumaurqu at his personal estate of Chinchero. If this line of reasoning holds true, it would add another significant symbolic layer to the complex concept of the usnu. Meddens (1997:10) interprets pumas, and especially those portrayed on usnus,as forces controlling water and fertility.His reasoning is derived from the rich iconography of the sculpted Sayhuite stone, which includes felines and channels for liquids.

Vilcaswaman represents a third case in which a sculpted rock is clearly part of an usnu. The whole usnu construction consists of a stepped platform with a single stairway surrounded by a compound wall which possibly had four doorways (Gasparini and Margolies 1980:112–116, 271–277). On top of the platform still stands a cube-like stone block sculpted into two seats with armrests. Two unique sources bring to life and validate the ritual spaces and performances at the usnu in the context of the pattern for Vilcaswaman. The earlier writer is Cieza de León who closely describes the plaza and its usnu:

To one side of this plain,toward the rising sun,there was a shrine for the Lord-Incas, of stone,from which small terraces emerged,about six feet wide,where other enclosures came together, and at the center there was a bench where the Lord-Inca sat to pray,all of a single stone so large that it was eleven feet long and seven feet wide,with two seats cut for the aforesaid purpose. They say this stone used to be covered with jewels of gold and precious stones to adorn this place they so venerated and esteemed, and on another stone, not small, now in the middle of this square, like a baptismal font, was where they sacrificed animals and young children (so they say), whose blood was offered up to the gods (1959:126–127).

The second source is part of a description of the province of Vilcaswaman made by Corregidor Don Pedro de Carabajal in 1586:

There was a plaza large enough to hold more than twenty thousand men, which the Inka ordered to construct by hand and to accomplish this, he had to drain a large water pond. In front of the House of the Sun, there was a platform fenced in by a stone wall five estados high; it had a stairway of finely cut stones which facilitated theatrical effects so that the Inka could disappear and walk up to be seen; and on top stood two large stone thrones covered with gold where the Inka and his wife were seated like in a stand and from there they worshipped the sun; and when the Inka sat on the usnu, his whole guard protected the doors with utmost watchfulness; and there the Inka sat below a great canopy of the most colorful feathers, and the support posts upon which rested the roof were of gold, and 12 old captains of the Inka’s panaca carried the canopy. In their language, this canopy is called achigua. . . . He continues to describe sacrifices made to major deities for the wellbeing of the Inka and his family (Jimenez de la Espada 1965:218–219).

The two text passages cited bring together the material forms of the usnu as platform and carved stone seat and they dramatize ritual practices of mediation through the persona of the ruler at the center of Vilcaswaman, which itself was viewed as a symbolic center of the empire. It is of great interest that Cieza de León and Don Pedro de Carabajal describe two seats/thrones on top of the usnu platform and that the very stone block with the two carved seats has indeed survived. Who occupied the second throne? Was it the qoya, the Inka’s wife, as Don Pedro de Carabajal suggests, or did the two seats unite the two functions of the usnu: throne and altar, political and religious, secular and sacred (Gasparini and Margolies 1980: 269)? The Vilcaswaman usnu has to be included as a significant case study in any reconstruction of events surrounding usnus.

The variation of the pattern has most likely to do with the complexity of the usnu. The Cusco usnu was an upright stone, a seat, and a stone font with drainage channels.Perhaps the Inka evoked the concept of the usnu by one or a combination of the above features: Juchuy Qosqo uses the upright stone only while Samaipata shows a combination of all the elements and more. Most variation seems to have occurred with the seat. The seat could be a bench typically carved out of a boulder as at Machu Picchu or Chinchero; but it could also be a small or large masonry platform as at Inkallaqta and Huanuco Pampa or combine both as at Vilcaswaman. I speculate that the choice of the seat feature may have been due to the availability of a boulder suitable for sculpting, and to the intended ritual requirements for which the seat was to be used. For example, royal estates were closely tied to individual rulers and their plazas were relatively small. The carved stone seats/usnus at Machu Picchu and Chinchero probably acted as thrones for Pachakuti and Thupa Inka from which they addressed their people and directed ceremonies.Huanuco Pampa, on the other hand, was a fairly remote administrative center where the ruler was rarely present.State officials had to address and control the local populace.It is possibly for these reasons that they needed a very large plaza with a large seat turned into a masonry platform from which several leaders could direct and control a large audience.

So far, I have focused on formal and visual resemblances between the Cusco usnu,Guaman Poma de Ayala’s drawings,and certain case studies of the pattern.On a more general level, what links together usnus and all foregrounded rocks in the pattern is the fact that they all functioned as wak’as and were made of stone.I argue that first and foremost,all the special rocks which fall under the pattern were wak’as with all their symbolic connotations and mediating qualities addressed by many writers. Frank Salomon (1998:7–17; Salomon and Urioste 1991:16–19) examines wak’as from a linguistic perspective through the language in the Huarochiri manuscript written in Quechua. He shows that wak’as, like people, plants, and animals, pass through several states of being:“from kinetic, fleshy, fast-changing . . . toward static, hard, slow-changing” (1998:9). As the actions of a being become more energetic and powerful, it moves from a soft biotic state to a hard state full of permanence. Since this process appears to be the same for wak’as, people, plants, and animals, it follows that they all would be subject to similar life forces and animating essences, thus establishing a clear parallel between wak’as and humans. The final states of permanence are visualized in deified mountains, other land features, and rock wak’as. In Andean thought, there is a continuum from transitory to durable modes of being, the latter being materialized by stone, mountains, and sculpted rock wak’as. It implies that the rock wak’as had not always been hard and timeless but had passed through softer,more pliable material stages.It probably did not matter whether a boulder was sculpted or not—what mattered was the material essence and quality of stone which manifested its permanent and timeless state of existence. Cesar Paternosto (1996:179–186) discusses these qualities under the term tectonic, which includes all that is related to construction but also refers to the earth’s crust and the geological formations which gave rise to the Andean landscape. Stone wak’as belong to both aspects of the tectonic. At the same time, though, not all natural stones were wak’as. Those foregrounded in the pattern under discussion were thoughtfully selected, some were carved, and deliberately placed into a specific architectural and spatial context meaning that in many cases the rocks stood there first and architectural space (plaza,kallanka) was designed around them.The differing states of being for humans and the natural world were brought into relationship through ritual at the rock wak’as and in the adjoining plazas and kallankas. While the ritual participants—people and wak’as—interacted asymmetrically with the wak’as being the more durable and hence more powerful, ritual activities mediated between the multiple and complex inhabitants of the cosmos and states of existence, made them understandable, and reinforced coherence (see also Allen 1998:25).

Maarten van de Guchte (1990:237–271) superbly explores the complex layers of the concept wak’a based upon ethnographic and linguistic sources. He notices that while Spanish writers in the 16th century tended to focus on wak’as as objects,in the 17th century, there was a greater interest in the processual and ritual characteristics of wak’as and they are treated in the literature as living dynamic forces charged with spiritual powers. Wak’as can be material movable objects or localized features in a landscape, such as a building or water source. Wak’as can make sounds and speak in human languages and have relations with weather phenomena and the celestial bodies and wak’as may have unusual physical features which separate them from normal people and natural objects.Wak’as in all these categories lively interact with humans and we recall Guaman Poma’s (1987:253) well known drawing of Thupa Inka addressing a group of wak’as many of which are carved stones. All such discourse between wak’as and humans,between the landscape and humans is based on the principle of reciprocity central to Andean thinking. Reciprocity (ayni) cements Andean social and economic lives in the form of a vertically-organized trade system between altitude zones and reciprocity was fundamental in the political obligations between the Inka state and its subjects (Stone-Miller 2002:15–16). Reciprocity also characterizes the relations between man/nature and man/supernatural beings and always invokes mediation and dialogue rather than dominance. Of course, the concept of wak’a goes far beyond rocks; the latter only constitute a subgroup of wak’as and the foregrounded/sculpted boulders in the pattern only make up a small group of all rock wak’as.

There may have been another interesting link between the foregrounded rocks in our pattern, usnus, and Inka origin places. There were two main Inka origin stories told with certain variations by many chroniclers, which have been extensively debated in the literature (see,for example,Christie 2006b; Christie and Staller 2004; Salles-Reese 1997; Urton 1990, 1999). In the cosmic origin myth,Wiraqocha created the sun, the moon, and the stars on the Island of the Sun in Lake Titicaca. They are said to have come forth from two pronounced natural holes in a sacred rock outcrop.

This rock outcrop was the focal point of an important Inka sanctuary which people from all parts of the Andes visited in annual pilgrimages. Next Wiraqocha formed humans and painted them in the manner of the dress they were supposed to wear. He sent his newly created people away underground to wait for his call to come up out of springs, caves, rocks, and other similar places. Such places called pacarinas became the unique locations of origin of individual lineages. In the specific Inka origin myth, there was an important place with the name Pacariqtambo, to the south of Cusco,with a nearby mountain called Tampu T’oqo which displayed three windows or caves. The ancestors of the Inka who are represented as four brothers and four sisters in the chronicles emerged from the central window.Tampu T’oqo is known today as the sculpted outcrop Pumaurqu. Pumaurqu is a gigantic outcrop associated with caves, carved boulders, and a few modest Inka buildings around its bottom. Its top surface is sculpted into seats, platforms, and planes, as well as two pumas.The leader and principal figure among the ancestors was brother Ayar Manqo. They left Tampu T’oqo together with local people from the area searching for fertile land on which they would settle. When they arrived at the valley of Cusco, they recognized through miraculous signs that this should be their home. They took possession of it and Ayar Manqo founded the capital and became the first Inka ruler Manqo Qhapaq.

This digression was necessary to show how important stone and rocks—carved as well as uncarved—were in Inka and pan-Andean origin mythology. There may have been a conceptual link between the rocks in the origin stories, usnus, and the foregrounded rocks in the pattern we are investigating. Betanzos and Pedro Pizarro (1978:91) clearly say that one aspect of the usnu in the principal plaza of Cusco was that it functioned as a seat of the sun.Meddens (1997:10),in his discussion of usnus, differentiates between one type of usnu that was the seat of the sun and another type which was the seat of the ruler. He (1997:10) further points out that Inka rulers as well as the sun could literally be represented by certain idols which were understood as their brother images or huauques (wauq’es). Such huauques were mentioned by Spanish writers and specific huauques of Inka rulers have been identified (Van de Guchte 1996). Andean people appear to have believed that the spirit and essence of the ruler entered his brother or double image. The idol Punchaw stationed in the Qorikancha seems to have represented the sun in a similar way.At the beginning of time, when the sun first came out of the opening in the large rock formation on the Island of the Sun,it rested or sat on the stone for a moment in time.Perhaps the sun was made to rest or sit in a similar fashion on the usnu in Cusco when the Inka people placed the idol of the Sun on it (see above Betanzos 1996:48).This ritual act may be understood as an attempt to re-create the origin place in the center of Cusco.The main message of this ritual was to center the sun and its origin in Cusco. Since the Inka ruler was respected as the son of the sun, it would be appropriate for both the ruler and its supernatural father, to occupy equal usnus (see the two carved seats at Vilcaswaman). It is very interesting that Ramos Gavilan as well as Bernabe Cobo (cited by Bauer and Stanish 2001:230–231) mention a large stone basin placed directly in front of the Sacred Rock on the Island of the Sun into which priests poured the corn beer or chicha for the Sun to drink. Bauer’s and Stanish’ excavations (2001:231) exposed the remains of a stone canal which drained liquids away from the Sacred Rock. This seems to indicate that those aspects of the usnu which deal with liquid offerings and drainage were present in the Sanctuary area and that the Island of the Sun had—at least conceptually—an usnu. According to Zuidema (1980:357), this very aspect of an opening in the ground, where the earth absorbs rain water and other liquids, is the central theme of the Inka usnu.

An implicit connection with the origin place Pumaurqu may have been established by Thupa Inka through his carved rock in Chinchero which exhibits seats and platforms as well as two puma figures. Thupa Inka may have envisioned to symbolically transfer the origin site of the Inka dynasty to his personal estate.

The Use of the Pattern by Individual Emperors

In Inka Studies, it is often considered a risky endeavor to attribute specific settlements, buildings, or even masonry and ceramic styles to individual emperors because the accounts of the Spanish writers are not consistent and archaeological data are often inconclusive (D’Altroy 2002:45–47, 53–55, 109; Meyers 1997). Nevertheless,based upon the broad consensus in the chronicles that Pachakuti redesigned Cusco as the capital of the Inka empire and the documentary evidence which attributes the royal estates discussed above to specific rulers, I will dare to link certain consistencies and changes within the pattern to the preferences of individual emperors.

As discussed above, the archetypal model of the pattern plaza-kallankaforegrounded/carved rock originated in Cusco. I have treated this pattern as if it was formed in the course of Pachakuti’s reconstruction of the capital although it is impossible to say what exactly the Cusco usnu looked like and when exactly it was built given the available data. Wiraqocha Inka created a basic copy at his estate of Juchuy Qosqo by integrating the large sandstone boulder in between the plaza, kallanka, and palace complex. Pachakuti commissioned the carving of rocks (Christie N.d., 2003b) and his examples of the pattern in Machu Picchu and Vitcos display finely sculpted boulders. Amaru Thupa Inka’s estate at Callachaca exhibits another case of our pattern including an outcrop that has few carvings while Thupa Inka seems to have followed the elaborate sculptural style of his father.

At his royal estate at Chinchero,he created an impressive group of sculpture,architecture, and open space designed around a carved outcrop. The seat-like carvings charged this outcrop with concepts of an usnu and the sculpted pumas harkened back to the Inka origin place Pumaurqu, thus transforming the outcrop into a formidable seat of power. Wayna Qhapaq used the pattern in his palace complex of Quispiguanca at Urubamba and Yucay.The foregrounded rock is a white uncarved boulder centrally displayed.These chronological comparisons may suggest that the pattern was employed in its most elaborate forms during the reigns of Pachakuti and Thupa Inka. I have presented evidence elsewhere (Christie N.d., 2003b), that Pachakuti in particular promoted the carving of rocks and that Thupa Inka maintained this same strategy.This reasoning extends to Samaipata,which was founded during the reigns of these two monarchs and/or Wayna Qhapaq’s. The case of Samaipata is truly unique and based on its formidable geological conditions: a giant outcrop towering above the plaza with kallanka.The great variety of carvings imply numerous religious ritual and political functions. Other governance sites at great distances from Cusco, such as Inkallaqta and Huanuco Pampa, exhibit platform usnus instead of foregrounded rocks. At Vilcabamba the Old, the pattern is simple and reduced, using a large unmodified boulder. However, given the location of Vilcabamba the Old in the lowland jungle where mountain peaks are nonexistent and the symbolic qualities of the apus and stone perhaps poorly understood, the prominence of the huge boulder standing next to the kallanka is no less conspicuous.

This brief rerun of the examples discussed earlier was meant to bring out the individual nature of each case study. While there was the general overarching pattern, each occurrence is unique and perhaps personal in the way it was interpreted and manipulated by specific rulers. Other examples are the result of an adaptation to geologic conditions, such as Samaipata and to some extent Callachaca. I believe our pattern speaks to the individuality and artistic creativity of Inka rulers and artisans in the way they adapted a specific design to local land formations and changing political contexts. This is why it has been so challenging and difficult to define clear models and patterns in Inka culture in general. For example, scholars have been unable to agree on issues such as what are the identifying features of an Inka palace or royal estate architecture or patterns and meaning of Inka urban design (see Christie 2006a; Hyslop 1990; Kendall 1985; Morris 2004a,2004b; Protzen 2000). Perhaps we should concentrate more on the individuality of Inka design, approach case studies from a local context, and from the local direction find the point at which individuality and personal interpretation was balanced and counteracted by state control.It is this often subtle interplay and balancing act between local expression and state power, the very principle of reciprocity or ayni, that makes the study of Inka culture so fascinating.

Conclusions

The examples analyzed above have demonstrated that the combination of architectural and sculptural/natural features plaza-kallanka-foregrounded rock forms a recurring pattern. In some cases, the special rock had the form of an usnu with a seating area and thus functioned as a place where the ruler appeared in a prominent and elevated position. Guaman Poma de Ayala (1987:391, 407, 377) represented Atawallpa and Manqo Inka seated on usnus in Cajamarca and Cusco as well as a stepped platform as part of an architectural setting in a scene during the reign of Wayna Qhapaq (Figure 13). In these three drawings, the usnu is a stepped pyramidal stone with four platforms, but it is by no means certain that this was the historically correct form of the Cusco usnu. The carved rocks at Chinchero, Machu Picchu, and Vilcaswaman may have been used as similar royal thrones. Yet, such a context does not explain the entire pattern since other cases, for example, Quispiguanca and Vilcabamba were not carved as seats. What linked all the foregrounded rocks in the pattern together was that they were wak’as and consisted of stone and the symbolic qualities associated with it.

Finally, relationships of the highest order may have been called up by the rocks and boulders in our pattern.The examples discussed include Cusco,the capital,five royal estates: Juchuy Qosqo, Machu Picchu, Chinchero, Callachaca, Quispiguanca, the outlying governance sites of Samaipata, Inkallaqta, Huanuco Pampa, and Vilcaswaman as well as the new capital in exile Vilcabamba. One fundamental concept that qualified Cusco as the capital and elevated it to the center of the empire was that the division of the four quarters of Tawantinsuyu originated from its main plaza Awkaypata.More specifically,Zuidema (1980:326) interprets Molina’s description of the citua festival in the way that the four-partite division indeed began at the usnu. The document of the visit by Damian de la Bandera in the valley of Yucay in 1558 states that this valley was the personal property of Wayna Qhapaq (“como recamara suya”—like his private room) and that therefore the Indians who lived there did not belong to any suyu (Villanueva Urteaga 1971:94).Witnesses Lucas Chico and Martin Cutipa, mitimaes from the Yucay Valley, confirmed that neither this valley nor Wayna Qhapaq’s properties were ever part of any of the four provinces into which the empire was divided (Villanueva Urteaga 1971:129–131). For Damian de la Bandera, this was important because yanaconas and camayos traditionally maintained and worked the personal estates of the ruler and were thus exempt from tribute to the state and de la Bandera wanted to change that by taxing them. In the context of this study, it establishes an intriguing political parallel between Cusco and the royal estates: they all may have been considered neutral spaces, types of centers, and certain origin places. The division of the four quarters started in Awkaypata and possibly at the Cusco usnu itself. I suggest that the pattern of plaza-kallanka-foregrounded rock at the royal estates evoked similar ideas. While plazas and kallankas generally have practical functions, the special rocks are clearly the most powerfully charged feature in the pattern.As discussed elsewhere (Christie N.d., 2003a, 2003b; Niles 1992), on the most basic level, stone and rocks have the symbolic quality of mediating between the underworld (ukhu pacha), the world of man (kay pacha),and the upper world (hanan pacha) because bedrock reaches deep inside the earth and stone in the form of the Andean mountains towers high above the human world in the realm of the apus or mountain deities.Some of the stepped carvings may reproduce the man-made terraces on the mountain slopes.But I think in the context of royal estates, the rocks in the pattern may have another level of meaning beyond their functions as seats/thrones and mediators between the vertical divisions of the cosmos.Going back to the discussion of wak’as above,these special boulders and sculpted rocks may call up different states of being and meanings which we as Westerners understand as disparate but which in the mind of Andean people were related. It should be recalled that Salomon (Salomon and Urioste 1991:19) recognizes clear correspondences between the organization of wak’as and human social structure. I speculate to summarize such interrelations as follows: Cusco-ruler-center-plaza and kallankas for people-stone usnu-libations for ukhu pacha, offerings to hanan pacha-royal estates-ruler-plaza and kallankas for peoplestone wak’as. I think the administrative centers with usnu platforms covered above may be included even though the symbolic associations presented here apply most directly to stone wak’as and only in a secondary sense to usnu platforms. Ritual in the plazas, kallankas, and at the stones brought these interrelations alive through performance and acted them out. I argue that the pattern articulated formal, ideological, and conceptual parallels with Cusco, the center—a link that underlined the high status of royal estates as well as of any other settlement using the pattern.These associations would have been most appropriate and even necessary for Vilcabamba, which Manqo Inka pronounced the new capital.

Thus the discussion has demonstrated that the pattern of a plaza-kallankaforegrounded rock in Inka settlements was indeed meaningful. It brought up numerous ideas about Inka political power grounded in cosmology since some of the sculpted and foregrounded rocks display features of an usnu and all of them fall into the category of wak’as charged with powerful animating essences. The great variety of contexts and ideas which could be brought up by the special rocks had to be dramatized and explained in rituals conducted in the plaza and kallanka.Through ritual performances most likely led and presided over by the Inka ruler, ambiguities with regard to worldview were cleared away and order was instituted. While not all of the occurrences of the pattern are identical in their material form—they may vary in layout, elements of an usnu, distances between the diagnostic features, and elaboration of the rocks—, they evoked similar concepts and thought structures.

Acknowledgments

I would like to express my thanks and gratitude to Dr. Jean Muteba Rahier, Editor of JLACA and to his Managing Editor,Christi Navarro,as well as to the anonymous reviewers who helped me with inexhaustible commitment to improve my manuscript and make it acceptable to JLACA’s readers. I also thank Kelly Adams at East Carolina University for digitally altering many of my images and for her great patience and reliability.

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Inka Control of Time

This paper is about the spatial mechanisms the Inka constructed in order to control time. Prudence Rice (2007) has recently discussed that mechanisms to control time were potent power tools in state-level Mesoamerican societies, such as the Maya. In the fifteenth century, the Inka built an empire in South America yet there is still no consensus as to how exactly they recorded history or reckoned time. The khipu fulfilled some of these functions (Urton 2003; Quilter and Urton 2002) and Tom Zuidema (1977) has presented complex arguments that the Inka used a lunar calendar. Spanish writers, such as Cristobal de Molina, describe a ritual calendar calibrated to the Spanish months. My methodology is to resort to ethnography and archaeological material to reconstruct a spatial mechanism the Inka used in a political context. The question to be raised is in which ways did the Inka record time and turn this act into an ideological performance?

INKA CONTROL OF TIME
Autor: Jessica Joyce Christie
East Carolina University

Sitio Arqueologico de Chankillo
Sitio Arqueologico de Chankillo

It is well documented that the Inka recorded time by observing sunset positions between pillars strung along the western horizon line from the usnu stone in the central plaza of Cusco. Several chroniclers report architectural pillars dotting the horizon of Cusco. The usnu was an important stone construction somewhere in the center of the plaza. One function of the usnu was to present the ruler on official occasions. The ruler and other court dignitaries standing close by in the central plaza could have tracked solstice and equinox positions. This kind of knowledge was of primary importance to the agricultural calendar. At the same time, observations of the sun were an integral part of state ritual. The Inka royal couple validated their authority by claiming to be direct descendants from the Sun and Moon. The Inka origin narrative relates that the Sun called forth the dynastic ancestors Manqo Qhapaq and Mama Oqllu from two openings in the rock outcrop of the Sanctuary on the Island of the Sun. They were told to migrate to the northwest, reemerge with brothers, sisters, and many others at the site of Pumaurqu and then find land to settle which ended up being the Cusco Valley. Spanish writers report that the Inka sovereign frequently consulted with his father, the Sun, and along the same line, tracing the positions of the sun from the usnu would have constituted another form of discourse with the Sun. Similar spatial alignments between a significant rock and sets of pillars on the horizon line have been documented at the main Sanctuary on the Island of the Sun in Lake Titicaca and on Wayna Qhapaq’s royal estate at Urubamba.

  Recently a set of thirteen towers have been identified at the Early Horizon site of Chankillo, which could have functioned as horizon markers for a solar observatory. The general observation points appear to have been in plazas and building complexes. I argue that the Inka appropriated a spatial mechanism that was known in the Andes at least since the end of the Early Horizon (c.300 – 200 B.C.E.). They transformed and manipulated the physical construct into a ritual performance which conceptually legitimized the ultimate authority of the Inka emperor.

Paper:

Introduction

  Time is an important tool of political and ideological power. Our daily routines are dictated by the clock yet we rarely take notice that our teaching and meeting schedules are set by higher university boards and that our movements, in traffic for instance, are slowed down by traffic lights controlled by city authorities. Numerous scholars (Rice 2007, 2008) have theorized time noting that it is a social construct derived from local cycles of day and night and the seasons which were traditionally linked to an agricultural calendar. The meaning of time is not universal but is grounded in the social, political, and economic settings of particular societies. Complex state-level societies use more fine-tuned calendars than simple time-keeping devices known in hunter-and-gatherer groups and such calendar structures mirror a society’s worldview and identity and can be manipulated politically. Prudence Rice (2007, 2008) has explored the power structures of the Classic, Postclassic, and Colonial Maya from this perspective and in this paper, I will use similar tools to better understand Inka control of time.

  The Inka built an expansive state mapped out from their capital Cusco situated in the south-central Andes. Beginning in the early 1400s, they accumulated vast territories which eventually reached from the Quito area in present Ecuador in the north into northern Chile and northwest Argentina in the south and from the Pacific Ocean to the eastern jungle lowlands. Expansion was halted by the civil war between Washkar and Atawallpa and by the arrival of the Spaniards in the 1530s. It has always puzzled scholars that the Inka who could conquer and administer an empire did not have a clearly certifiable system of writing nor a calendar as, for example, the Maya. Spanish writers, among them Guaman Poma de Ayala, report that the Inka recorded festival days as well as other information (tribute lists, census data) on the khipu. The Andean khipu is a notted string device which consists of a main cord and multiple attached pendant cords. These pendant cords exhibit groups of knots at set intervals.[1] What is most intriguing about the khipu in the context of this essay is that when the main cord of a khipu is positioned in a circle and its pendant cords straightened out, it appears to be a striking material correlate to the Cusco zeq’e system comprised of 41 conceptual lines marked by shrines/wak’as, which radiated outward from the Temple of the Sun/Qorikancha in the center of Cusco.  Historical lineages (ayllus and panaqas) in the capital maintained these wak’as by bringing offerings and performing rituals at a prescribed schedule hinting at a calendar system at least as it was understood by the Spaniards (see Bernabe Cobo). This cross-link between zeq’e wak’as and khipu knots was one of the starting points for Tom Zuidema in his life-long studies of an Inka calendar system. In 2011, he published the results of decades of meticulous multi-disciplinary scholarly work in a new book reconstructing a calendar of 13 months based upon solar and lunar observations. His primary concerns are to establish how exactly the Inka observed the movements of the sun and moon by matching the piecemeal and often conflicting reports by various Spanish writers with astronomical measurements in relation to documented locations in the Cusco region. My approach bypasses the debate about the nature of the Inka calendar but focuses on how the practice of tracing the movements of the sun on the horizon line was turned into state ritual on significant days of the solar year, such as the solstices.

  It is well established that the Inka traced the movements of the sun from the usnu in the main plaza of Cusco and other locations in relation to sets of stone pillars which once dotted the horizon lines[2]. Here I will zoom in on the usnu as the archetypal example of an empowered stone situated in between the Awkaypata and Kusipata sectors of the main plaza since its spatial setting allows to reconstruct a potential scenario of state ritual in which the Inka ruler displayed his discourse with the Sun and ultimately control over time (IMAGE OF CUSCO, PLAN OF MAIN PLAZA). Nobody knows exactly what the usnu looked like because the descriptions by the chroniclers are not consistent (see, for instance, D’Altroy 2002:115,329; Bauer and Dearborn 1995:36). Juan de Betanzos (1996:47-49 [1557:part 1, chap.XI]) describes the usnu as “a stone made like a sugarloaf pointed on top and covered with a strip of gold.” Associated with it or next to it was a stone font or basin for holding liquids. Around this stone font, the people of Cusco buried gold statuettes representing the most important lords of each lineage in the city. «In the middle of the font they put the stone that represented the Sun» (Betanzos 1996:48 [1557:part 1, chap.XI]). This was meant as an offering to the Sun, mirroring the social organization of Cusco and its history[3].

In three authoritative publications, John Hyslop (1990:69-101), Tom Zuidema (1980), and F. M. Meddens (1997) have investigated the Cusco usnu(s), other usnus, and the complex symbolic connotations associated with them. They conclude that usnus could assume a number of material forms: they could be stone pillars, stone seats, stone basins or fonts linked to underground channels, platforms, as well as truncated pyramids. Depending on their forms, usnus could have a variety of functions. Hyslop (1990:70-72) focuses on usnu platforms and reasons that they constituted elevated and powerfully charged stage areas for the ruler. When he took his position upon the usnu, he oversaw rituals and military reviews, addressed his army, and perhaps also spoke justice in the role of a judge.

Zuidema (1980:357) emphasizes the idea that the usnu symbolizes an opening in the ground through which the earth sucks in rain water; this aspect of the usnu takes on material substance in the basin and drainage system. But the usnu also marks an observation point of the Sun (Zuidema 1980:318-331). At least a dozen chroniclers mention the existence of sets of small towers or stone pillars on the eastern and western horizons of Cusco (Bauer and Dearborn 1995:67-100, Hyslop 1990:61-62). Archaeologically, however, none of the Cusco horizon pillars has been identified. One point of observation may have been the usnu in the Awkaypata plaza. The Anonymous Chronicler (in Bauer and Dearborn 1995:35 [c. 1570]) describes the four western pillars and states that… when the sun reached the first pillar they prepared for the general planting and began to plant vegetables in the heights, as slower [to mature], and when the sun reached the two pillars in the middle, was the point and the general time of the planting in Cuzco, and it was always in the month of August. It is in this way that, to take the point of the sun between the central two pillars they had another pillar in the middle of the plaza, [a] pillar of well worked stone one estado in height, in a suitable indicated place, that they called usnu, and from there they watched the sun between the two pillars, and when it was exactly there, it was the time for sowing in the Cuzco Valley and its region.

This account is so important to my argument because it is the only one I know of which places the pillars into a relationship with an observation point, the usnu. However, the Anonymous Chronicler does not say who watched the sunsets. We might assume that he implies the ruler or a designated state official seated on the Cusco usnu. Various early Colonial documents indicate that the Inka and other Andean peoples trained specialists to trace the movements of the sun and moon (Bauer and Dearborn 1995:55-58). There must have been daily observations conducted for several years by specialists before the exact placement of the pillars as well as the crucial turn-around points of the Sun on the horizon line on the days of the solstices could be established. The midpoints between the extreme positions of the Sun on the eastern and western horizons would have marked the equinoxes. The August date mentioned by the Anonymous Chronicler above was most likely August 18, when the sun passes through its anti-zenith position in Cusco, and which coincides with the general beginning of a new agricultural season in the region. Such observations were easily carried out from the usnu in the main plaza since this was a public place.

The report of the Anonymous Chronicler ties solar observations to the need of scheduling agricultural activities. Some basic time keeping devices to mark the seasons are typically found in agrarian societies. But the Inka had constructed a complex state-level system and it is reasonable to suggest that once their astronomers had roughly charted the significant positions of the Sun on the horizon line (solstices, equinoxes, zenith- and anti-zenith dates), the Inka ruler selected certain dates – most importantly the solstices – as occasions for state ritual and pageantry. The Inti Raymi, a multiple day celebration around the time of the June solstice and the Capac Raymi at the December solstice, have been described by several Spanish writers. Parts of these festivals surely were held in the main (Awkaypata and Kusipata) plaza around the usnu. David Dearborn ( ) has made the interesting argument that the distances between the pillars which the Anonymous Chronicler provides are much too wide to specify a precise date. According to Dearborn’s calculations, the Sun would appear to set between the central pillars for nearly a week as seen from the usnu in mid-August. The large separation of the pillars also allowed most of the people gathered in Awkaypata/Kusipata to watch the sunset and not exclusively the ruling state officials on the usnu. Dearborn concludes that the primary objective of solar observation from the Cusco usnu was not astronomical in the sense of fixing a precise date, but ritual, meaning that all the people in the plaza watched the Sun set.

Dearborn’s argument gives important insights into the discourse between the ruler and the Sun as well as between the ruler and commoners. It has to be emphasized that the Inka emperor validated his authority by claiming that the dynastic founders were called forth by the Sun from a sacred rock outcrop in Lake Titicaca (see below) establishing a parent-son relationship. The complex layers of interweaving relations between the Sun, stone wak’as, and state power were materialized in the usnu and dramatized in imperial ceremonies including Sun watching (see Discussion and Conclusions).

  Dearborn and Bauer have documented a second case in which June solstice sunset was tracked from a sacred boulder on the Island of the Sun in Lake Titicaca, Bolivia. In Andean origin narratives written down by the Spanish, a rock sanctuary with conspicuous holes features as the place of emergence of the Sun who later called forth the dynastic ancestor couple Manqo Qhapaq and Mama Oqllu from the same rock openings and sent them on an underground journey in a northwestern direction to reemerge south of Cusco, found the Inka capital, and civilize the world (IMAGES). Bernabe Cobo who composed a multi-volume History of the New World in 1653, describes the central outcrop in this sanctuary in the following way (copied from an earlier text by Ramos Gavilan):

The crag that was so venerated was out in the open, and the temple was next to it, …. The front of it (the crag) faces north, and the back faces south; there is not much to the concave part of it, which is what they worshiped. The altar of the Sun was inside. The convex part is the living stone, whose slopes reach out as far as the water, where there is a cove made by the lake. The adornment was a covering over the convex part, a curtain of cumbi, which was the finest and most delicate piece [of this cloth] that has ever been seen. And the entire concave part of it was covered with sheets of gold, and they threw the offerings into some holes that can still be seen now. Ahead of this crag and altar a round stone can be seen which is like a basin, admirably wrought, about as large as a medium-sized millstone, with its orifice; the stone is used at the foot of a cross now. The chicha for the Sun to drink was tossed into this orifice (Cobo 1990:96-97 [1653:Bk.13, Ch.18]).

The most recent and most comprehensive research program on the Islands of the Sun and Moon was conducted by Brian Bauer and Charles Stanish from 1994 to 1996. In the 1994-1995 season, they surveyed both islands and identified more than 180 pre-contact sites. The survey was followed up by test excavations and archaeoastronomy research during the second season. Their investigation of the Island of the Sun and its Sanctuary and of the Island of the Moon was thoroughly documented and contextualized by Bauer and Stanish (2001). As seen from the Sanctuary area, the sun sets over a ridge, called Tikani, to the northwest. Together with David Dearborn, they identified two structures on this ridge that flank the position at which the Sun sets on the June solstice as viewed from the plaza. Their findings indicate that part of the June solstice celebrations involved watching the sun set between these structures which so conspicuously marked the event: the elite stood in the plaza in front of the Sacred Rock while the non-elite gathered on a platform outside the Sanctuary wall at the first gateway on the pilgrimage road (MAP BY BAUER AND STANISH). The scenario on the Island of the Sun thus uses two view cones with a larger angle toward the plaza and a much smaller angle toward the viewing platform.

  These data constitute a second significant case study in the emerging pattern of special foregrounded rocks serving as observation points of the sun in relation to sets of horizon pillars. Some of these observation points were usnus and others were carved or unmodified boulders. What bound these locales together was not their formal appearance but their material essence of stone. The liminal and metaphorical qualities of stone in reference to Inka state ideology lie coded in the sacred outcrop on the Island of the Sun: its rock formation reaching from the lake to the plaza area and its two openings into the rock marking the origin places of the Sun and of the Inka ancestors.

In the Sanctuary on the Island of the Sun, the grouping of the audience into status-based locales as outlined seems to stage a scenario similar to that on the Cusco main plaza. Although individuals of high and low social status both observed June solstice sunset, the Inka ruler and the nobility stood closest to the Sacred Rock whereas commoners had to remain at the outer entrance wall (Bauer and Stanish 2001:212). One questionable issue was the physical form of the two structures on the Tikani ridge.  They are two rock-walled and rubble-filled buildings which hardly match the description of the Cusco horizon pillars given by the chroniclers. In August of 1995, Matthew Seddon and Brian Bauer specifically investigated these two structures (Seddon and Bauer 2004). They reconstructed two dissimilar and irregular buildings which were largely filled with rock rubble, gravel, and sand and did not contain any cultural remains. Intriguingly, certain formal aspects and higher quality masonry sections were oriented toward the Sacred Rock leading Seddon and Bauer (2004:90-91) to confirm their previous interpretation of the two structures as markers of the June solstice sunset when observed from the Sacred Rock.

  As the third example, in 2005 and 2007, the observation point for the long known two Inka masonry pillars above the town of Urubamba in the Urubamba Valley has been identified as the large white granite boulder sitting in the center of the plaza of Quispiguanca, the palace of Wayna Qhapaq by J. McKim Malville, Michael Zawaski, and Steven Gullberg (Malville 2008) (IMAGES). Malville, Zawaski, and Gullberg confirmed that these pillars mark June solstice sunrise when observed from the vicinity of this very conspicuous granite boulder which has been documented and contextualized by Niles (1999) in her analysis of Wayna Qhapaq’s Quispiguanca palace. Elsewhere I (Christie 2007a) have listed the white granite boulder as one case of the plaza-kallanka-foregrounded rock pattern at royal estates. Malville now adds the function of observation point of the Sun in relation to the two horizon masonry pillars.

  One fourth example which is still under investigation may be the Intiwatana complex at Machu Picchu. The Intiwatana is the famous carved boulder terminating in a vertical slab which occupies the highest point in Machu Picchu. The name intiwatana translates as “a place where the sun was tied” and is not a carryover from Inka times. It was given to a similar sculpted gnomen at the nearby site of Pisaq by George Squier in the nineteenth century and copied at Machu Picchu due to the similarity of stone forms. The standard interpretation is that the upright slab of the Intiwatana functioned as a sun dial: Inka authorities would observe the yearly movements of its shadows and program seasons and schedule agricultural activities accordingly.

Another possibility is that the carved Intiwatana boulder might have been used as an observation point of the sun in relation to the ridge of Cerro San Miguel to the west. As viewed from the Intiwatana, the sun sets west behind the long San Miguel ridge. Archaeological investigations in the early 1980s have reported wall foundations at the approximate location where the sun would set on the June solstice when observed from the Intiwatana. In 2007 and 2009, I organized a team to relocate these foundations, verify that they belonged to stone pillars, and measure the precise angle/azimuth in relation to the Intiwatana. We relocated the Inka stone wak’a on the summit of Cerro San Miguel but our exploration of the ridge stopped short at a chasm which we were not prepared to cross. This chasm is formed by steep rock formations resembling natural pillars. According to the calculations of my colleague Bernard Bell, these potential natural pillars sit very close to the equinox sunset position when viewed from the Intiwatana. This suggests the interesting scenario that we might have found the equinox markers and that the Inka might have substituted natural for manmade pillars. The question of possible horizon towers to track June solstice sunset from the Intiwatana is still open.

Recent investigations at the site of Chankillo (Ghezzi and Ruggles 2007) in the Casma-Sechin River Basin of the desert coast have documented a row of thirteen towers running north to south along a low ridge. Open space and building complexes extend east and west of this ridge. Within these structures, researchers have been able to pinpoint probable western and eastern observation points from which the full range of towers were and are visible and form a toothed horizon line. As viewed from these two locations, the spread of towers along the horizon corresponds closely to the range of movement of the rising and setting sun between the solstices. Ghezzi and Ruggles (2007:1241-1242) recorded the exact positions of sunrise and sunset on the days of the solstices, equinoxes, zenith and anti-zenith passage from the two observation points. The majority of these positions fall upon specific towers. Chankillo is solidly dated to the fourth century B.C.E. and thus predates the Inka by about 1700 years.

Discussion and Conclusion

  Time as related to seasons has been a fundamental human concern since agriculture was first developed and possibly earlier for hunters-and-gatherers. In the Andes, people practiced many ways of tracking the positions of the sun, for example, by watching shadows change day by day along mountain slopes or the edges of carved rock outcrops. One observation method which required state infrastructure was the set-up of an empowered rock in relation to horizon pillars. Most of the sun watching conducted with this device was probably daily routine and served to schedule agricultural work. However, I argue that the Inka ruler selected and seized certain paramount days, such as solstices, equinoxes, and zenith, anti-zenith days, to transform ordinary skywatching into state ritual.

Chankillo demonstrates that the practice of tracing the movements of the sun through an arrangement of stone towers was not an Inka invention but was known by the late Early Horizon period. I reason that by analyzing the observation points, their spatial settings and relations with the towers, we can reconstruct aspects of the ritual and political contexts in which these solar observations took place. It is noteworthy that according to Ghezzi and Ruggles’ (2007:1241) reconstruction, the actual observation points at Chankillo were small architectural spaces with limited access, pointing to elite space. Of course, larger crowds may have viewed the towers from the surrounding open spaces together with the astronomical specialists positioned at the observation points identified by Ghezzi and Ruggles on designated days.

As calculated by Dearborn (see above), solar observations from the Cusco usnu would have engaged a large audience.  We could envision a wide-angle view cone opening from the middle western pillars toward the main plaza. While timed and organized by the state, such events were intended to be public. Colonial writers inform us that in addition the Inka used other spaces from which they followed the positions of the sun; one very important and highly restricted observation point was the Qorikancha, the Temple of the Sun. Numerous historical sources describe the Qorikancha, the people who were permitted access and the many activities they carried out. Mariusz Ziolkowski (1966:52) specifically mentions that the Inka used two imperial representations of the Sun: the Punchaw figure of a one-year old boy made of shiny gold in the Qorikancha and the gilded usnu stone situated in the Awkaypata plaza. The former served the restricted cult of the ruler, royal panaqas, and the nobility while the latter, simpler and less valuable image could be accessed by the common folks. This dichotomy would have been performed in the associated ceremonies. The authority of the Sapa Inka rested to a large extent on his son-father relation with the Sun: the first Inka ruler had been called forth from the stony outcrop on the island in Lake Titicaca by the Sun and sent out on a mission to subdue and civilize the world. So when the ruler positioned himself on the usnu stone, watching the Sun’s position, he entertained discourse with his divine father and cemented public support. Garcilaso de la Vega (1966:117 [1609:Vol.I, Bk.2, Ch.22] and in Bauer and Dearborn 1995:47-49) speaks of Inka solar observations by means of tall stone columns and an east-west line drawn through their bases. Trained specialists observed how the shadows cast by the columns on the line changed throughout the year and at noon on the days of the equinoxes and the sun’s zenith passage, the columns would project no shadow at all. The Inka said the Sun would take his seat on top of the column and they decorated it and it turned into a day of great celebrations. In a parallel manner, the Inka ruler assumed the seat of the Sun when he sat on the usnu on the days of the equinoxes and zenith passage. I argue that Inka sun ceremonies most likely encompassed restricted and more private activities in the Qorikancha as well as open public events around the usnu in the main plaza in which the Sapa Inka acted out his special relationship with the Sun to reinforce confidence and loyalties in his subjects. In its public context, Inka solar observations were not a practice of astronomy but political and ideological events.

Similar contexts probably apply to the other cases of solar observations by means of a special empowered, usnu-like stone and related pillars as presented above.  We must note that at royal estates, such as Machu Picchu and Quispiguanca, the audiences would have been smaller than in Cusco and most likely consisted of court members and yanakuna, the resident population who maintained the estates of the ruler. This emerging pattern of sacred carved and unmodified rocks utilized by the Inka as observation stations of the movements of the Sun along the horizon marked by masonry pillars adds a significant functional category to the study of rock wak’as as well as to discussions of time as it binds together the metaphorical concepts of stone, the Sun and its movements giving rise to seasons and time cycles, and political power on an ideological level which I have labeled stone ideology elsewhere.

Finally, it is intriguing to return to Chankillo for a moment. People at this large center dated to the fourth century B.C.E. apparently traced the positions of the sun but we know little about their social organization. Andeanists (Bauer and Dearborn 1995:66) have argued that commoners typically organized agricultural activities according to a synodic lunar calendar. Might the solar observations at Chankillo be one indication of an early organized social hierarchy?

  1.   On the most basic level, it has been established that the knots increase in value of decimal units from the furthest outlying group registering ones toward the main cord. Recent khipu studies beginning with the authoritative work of the Ashers and Locke in the 1910s have demonstrated beyond doubt that many types of information were registered on the khipu (see also Quilter and Urton 2002; Urton 2003).
  2. For example, Polo de Ondegardo states in 1559 [1585] Errores … that “El ano partieron en doce meses por las lunas, y los demas dias que sobran cada ano los consumian con las mismas lunas. Y a cada luna o mes tenian puesto su mojon o pilar al derredor del Cuzco donde llegaba el sol aquel mas. Y estos pilares eran adoratorios principales … “ in Zuidema 2011:102; according to Zuidema (2011:125-126), the Inka used three techniques to trace the movements of the sun and other celestial bodies: the alignments and architecture of the Qorikancha; the position of an observer in relation to horizon pillars (in most examples to the west); long-distance observations by means of various horizon markers.   
  3. This might very well have been a miniature recreation of the ceque system which had its center in the Qorikancha and each radiating ceque was maintained by a Cusco lineage.

 

 

 

Works cited:
Quilter, Jeffrey and Gary Urton (editors)
2002 Narrative Threads. University of Texas Press, Austin.
Rice, Prudence
2007 Maya Calendar Origins. University of Texas Press, Austin.
Urton, Gary
2003 Signs of the Inka Khipu. University of Texas Press, Austin.
Zuidema, Tom
1977 The Inca Calendar. In Native American Astronomy, Edited by Anthony F. Aveni, pp.219-259. University of Texas Press, Austin.

The Cemetery of Paracas

While the spectacular colors and complex imagery of the Paracas Necropolis embroideries have long brought fame to the site, the character of this mortuary complex and cemetery population has remained shrouded in mystery. The survival of fragile organic materials in the tombs of the Necropolis of Wari Kayán at the Paracas site has resulted in an extraordinary artifact assemblage, unevenly preserved. The contextual information can be extraordinary, but is often ambiguous where deterioration has led to the loss or displacement of parts of the human body and parts of the associated artifacts. Beautifully preserved wrapping cloths and elaborately embroidered mantles are often layered next to other textiles that have largely rotted away, one of many indications of the complex history of creation and display of these ancestral bundles. Conditions of excavation and transport in 19271928 and almost ninety years of museum storage, as well as display, have also left their mark. Nonetheless, the Paracas Necropolis remains an unparalleled source of information on ancient Andean society.

THE CEMETERY OF PARACAS NECROPOLIS: MORTUARY PRACTICE AND SOCIAL NETWORK
Ann Hudson Peters

Due to the huge amounts of data and the complexity of recovery, conservation and interpretation, the site was never fully analyzed by Julio C. Tello and the original excavation team and National Museum staff, though they produced voluminous documentation between 1925 and 1979. Their partial publication of field and laboratory notes incorporates tentative analytic proposals, which have become the basis for a substantial subsequent literature on the site, largely speculative in nature. Access to the Tello and Mejía Xesspe archives since 2000 has provided a new opportunity and challenge for reanalysis of the site. Results of our ongoing work in archives and collections indicate evidence for a complex map of social and biological identities and relationships, more diverse and nuanced than any model previously proposed.

MORTUARY COMPLEX, CHRONOLOGY  AND CULTURAL AFFILIATIONS

The term “Paracas Necropolis” has been used to refer to several interrelated concepts. As a cemetery, it refers to two clusters of massed burials on the steep north-facing slope of Cerro Colorado, a rocky hill that spans the neck of the Paracas Peninsula on the south coast of Peru (fig. 1). Sector A is much larger, with two distinct sections each about the size of Sector B, and there are similar burials scattered in the near vicinity. It appears that both these sectors and some scattered burials nearby constitute a single cemetery, in which masses of burials have been placed among the walls of previously existing habitation terraces and semi-subterranean chambers. When it was discovered in 1927, Julio C. Tello named this cemetery “la Necrópolis de Wari Kayán”-the latter a Quechua term meaning something like “Host of the Ancestors,” used in Huarochirí to refer to mortuary caves (F. Salomon, pers. com. 2012). Radiocarbon dates, including recent AMS dates, for objects from the burials cluster between about 150 BCE and 200 CE (Paul 1991b; León 2007).

Figure 1. Paracas site.

The cemetery observed in 1927 reflects the final phase of mortuary ritual and burial for each bundle. The vast majority of bundles faced north over the steep hillside, towards the Bay of Paracas. Cloth bundles of baskets, ceramics and foodstuffs had been placed at their feet, a “signal” staff or cane tipped with bright feathers or balls of cotton rising above the peak of the bundle, and for some men, a bundle of weapons at their side. The burial pit had been carefully filled with clean sand from the adjacent desert, or with sand mixed with midden from the surrounding habitation deposits.

Although some burials are packed within the walls of abandoned Paracas Tradition buildings and others are clustered just outside, the graves are set so close together that groups cannot be distinguished based on spatial data alone. This pattern contrasts with the collective “Cavernas” shaft tombs and pit tombs set into hollows atop the adjacent ridge of Cerro Colorado as well as the small clusters of burials among buildings elsewhere at the site (Yacovleff and Muelle 1932; Tello and Mejía 1979; Tello et al. 2009, 2012). Most of the Cerro Colorado tombs hold Paracas Tradition burials, some of which appear to be contemporary with a Paracas tradition occupation that had built on and occupied the North Slope. Tello’s field supervisors Antonio Hurtado and Toribio Mejía Xesspe noted that the Necropolis intruded into that earlier occupation and that its distinctive ceramics, later defined as part of the Topará tradition (Lanning 1960; Wallace 1972, 1986), also were found in occupation fill in the Arena Blanca sector.

While Tello proposed a temporal sequence based on this stratigraphy, estimating that the site dated to approximately 2000 BP, further evidence demonstrates that the occupations associated with these distinct mortuary complexes and artifact production traditions were contemporary during the Paracas-Nasca transition from about 150 BC to AD 1, both at this site and throughout the region. Paracas tradition textiles, tools and musical instruments are present in some of the early Wari Kayán tombs, although no Paracas ceramics were placed there. In contemporary tombs in the Ocucaje basin, ceramics of the Paracas and Topara traditions were often found in the same tomb (Rubini and Dawson 19571960; Menzel et al. 1964).

The Necropolis ceramic complex corresponds to the Topará tradition as defined by Lanning (1960) and Wallace (1986), which also forms part of the Paracas 10 and Nasca 1 phases in the Ocucaje gravelots. The serving and ritual vessels incorporate extremely fine clays and delicate modeling techniques, used to create forms imitating gourds and squashes, as well as some more complex animal and plant motifs. Globular double-spout and bridge bottles are fired to red-orange in the early phases, and often painted with a thick white slip. Later bottles are fired to red, brown or black, and slipped in clays similar to the body paste. Early fine orange ware bowls include some with the interior fired to black, often with designs inscribed with a graphite stylus. Later bowls often have basal angles and are carefully fired in either an oxidizing or reduced atmosphere. The bowls are designed to fit within wicker baskets that typically appear with them in the tomb, tied up in a simple cotton cloth.

These diagnostic ceramics are fundamentally different in aesthetic and production techniques from those of earlier occupations at the Paracas site, which Tello called Paracas Cavernas. Today considered part of the Paracas Tradition, these are decorated with lines and dots by stamping and incision before firing, or by in a clay-resist technique involving two firings. They may also be painted with resinbased pigments, in a wide range of bright colors (Tello 1959; Menzel et al.1964). Despite their radically different decorative processes and effects, the Paracas and Topará traditions have an overlapping range of vessel forms that suggest an analogous range of ceramic functions among contemporary late Early Horizon societies on the south central Andean coast.

Ceramics found together in tombs defined as Nasca phases 1 and 2 in Ocucaje include innovative forms based on Topará tradition processes and aesthetics, innovative forms based on Paracas tradition processes and aesthetics and innovative forms imitating an entire tomb offering, including basket, foodstuffs and wrapping cloth. These graves are found adjacent to those of EH10 and are best understood as the outcome of the cross-cultural interactions and mutual influences evident during that phase. Throughout the south coast and at the Paracas Necropolis the Paracas-Topará-early Nasca transition can be best understood as a historically and socially continuous process.

However, the Necropolis ceramic assemblage does not incorporate most of the early Nasca innovations, instead retaining conservative forms and monochrome surfaces. Chongos phase vessels contemporary with Nasca 1 are reduced in scale, while miniature vessels accompany later gravelots contemporary with Nasca 2 (Tello 1959; Peters 1997; Aponte 2009). Instead, the broad interactions and innovations of this period are expressed in the Necropolis textile assemblage. Some of the burial clusters in the Arena Blanca sector include burials later than any in the Necropolis, including several excavated clandestinely prior to 1925, one of which was the source of the famous headcloth known as the “Paracas textile” (Levillier 1928; D’Harcourt 1934; Tello 1959). Occupation refuse and some burials in that sector were associated with ceramics from the Carmen phase of the Topará Tradition, contemporary with Nasca 3 (Engel 1964). However, the mass of Necropolis burials is larger in scale than earlier, later and contemporary burial clusters from other parts of the Paracas site, and no other cemetery of this scale and density has been recorded elsewhere in the region.

As a mortuary complex, Paracas Necropolis refers to a sequence of post-mortem treatments and funerary practices that resulted in a cadaver bound into a tight squatting position: holding a gourd bowl beneath the chin, with a set of characteristic objects placed on and around the body and layers of textile wrappings that form a conical bundle. Throughout the formation of the cemetery, the larger bundles were reinforced by layers of large cotton wrapping cloths and “dressed” in some levels as a symbolic person, including gender-specific clothing, headdress elements and other artifacts (Tello 1929, 1959; Yacovleff and Muelle 1934; Tello and Mejía 1979; Paul 1990a, 1991c; Peters 2000; Peters and Tomasto-Cagigao 2016). While the number of layers varies, an analogous sequence created most burials in the Necropolis of Wari Kayán and some similar burials in the Arena Blanca sector. Just beneath the outermost wrapping cloth, many of the largest mortuary bundles preserve a final “display layer” apparently intact. In male burials this layer is topped by a headdress and often ‘wears’ a type of open-sided tunic that Tello termed a ‘cassock’ (fig. 2). A feathered fan and short staff often have been placed on the sloping sides of the bundle, and large mantles have been draped as if worn.

Figure 2. General pattern of an elaborate EIP 1 male burial, showing the body position with bound limbs and gourd bowl beneath the chin. Whether in a simple or elaborate bundle, a man wears a headdress arranged over the cotton pad and cloth placed over his face. While the intermediary layers of wrapping cloths and garments vary in their order, arrangement and degree of deterioration, an outer display layer is usually well preserved. Typical elements shown here include an open-sided tunic composed of skin panels with a fringe of rectangular tabs, tied at the shoulders, a plaited headband, feather tassel, and fox skin. A fan and spear thrower have been placed below, and an outer wrapping cloth stitched to close the bundle before burial. Ceramic vessels and a basket, wrapped in a cloth, are typical of the objects placed at the time of burial. Other staffs and weapons may be placed at his right side.

While mortuary bundles built around seated individuals are also characteristic of contemporary burials in the Cavernas and Ocucaje tombs, the specific practices differ in each mortuary tradition, as do the styles of most of the associated artifacts. One diagnostic feature of each mortuary tradition is the form of the “false head” that tops each display layer. In the Paracas Necropolis mortuary pattern, a large wrapping cloth was passed under the bundle, drawn up the sides and stitched with cotton cords into a large bag-like form. One end extended to form a flap that was folded and bound with the same or similar cords used in the stitching to form a cylindrical “head,” and large zigzag stitches secured the folds around the sides of the bundle. In some cases, more cloth was added to create additional bulk at the peak of the bundle. Many “false head” layers were found adorned with headdress elements, and other garments and regalia had been placed and large mantles draped around the bundle below.

Bundles contemporary with late Paracas typically include large stylus-decorated sheet gold ornaments, placed in the first phase of ritual, as well as a distinctive group of headdress and garment styles. Tattooed and painted designs are commonly observed on both men and women in areas of the body where the skin is well preserved (Tomasto-Cagigao et al. 2013, Maita and Minaya 2014). Artifacts like netted scoops, bird-bone flutes and panpipes are found in both Cavernas and the early Necropolis gravelots. Most decorated textiles have Linear mode imagery. Bundles contemporary with early Nasca introduce the use of a large coiled basket to support the previously wrapped individual when new layers were added in subsequent phases of post-mortem ritual. Sheet gold ornaments are smaller and simpler. Male bundles are often crowned with a fox skin. New types of men’s headbands and garment forms appear, and proliferation of the Block Color embroidery style is accompanied by Nasca-related imagery.

The Necropolis textile assemblage is spectacular and diverse, suggesting incorporation of objects from many different workshop groups and some from other contemporary production traditions. Very large wrapping cloths exceed those of Paracas tradition contexts in both width and length, suggesting differences in both loom structure and the social organization of textile production. The fine weaves are fundamentally distinct. First, they are produced using either cotton or camelid hair, finely spun and woven as a balanced or slightly warp-dominant 1:1 plain weave. All yarns are 2-ply, S (2z), except for some tightly spun singles used in fine headcloths. Several different colors of natural cotton have been used to create different cloths included in a single mortuary bundle, and cotton color appears to co-vary with embroidery production style and imagery (Peters 2014).

Garments are designed on the loom, composed of fourselvage cloths woven to size. A garment may be constructed with one panel, or composed by two matching panels seamed together. Men’s wrap-around skirts are constructed of a single woven panel, and fastened with two diagonally interlaced ties. Large mantles may have embroidered borders stitched on narrow panels, woven to exactly match the length of the two panels that compose the central ground. Men’s tunics in the early Necropolis gravelots have two narrow warp-patterned bands appliquéd adjacent to the neck opening and two bands bordering the garment margins. Supplementary warps are substituted into a plain weave structure (Rowe 1977) to create images that are echoed in an adjacent embroidered “subborder,” as well as a matching mantle. Fringes are created with plied yarns or narrow woven strips.

A detailed contrast with the Paracas Tradition textile complex is beyond the scope of this essay, but it is important to note the nature of the distinctions. Paracas tradition textile design and decorative techniques are based upon a wide range of weave structures, such as warp-crossed gauze, sprang interlocking, looping, doublecloth, triplecloth and warp-patterning (King 1965; Frame 1986, 1995). The garments must have been produced by expert weavers on relatively narrow (probably backstrap) looms or other types of frames. The plain weaves are warp-dominant natural cotton, more densely woven and less flexible than the Necropolis plain weaves. Paracas tradition embroidery is stitched to create a structure like that of a warp or weft patterned band, with yarns running parallel to those of the underlying fabric and inserted at intervals determined by its thread count. In all these techniques, most elements of design and imagery of Paracas tradition textiles were structurally determined in the weaving process, while a large component of the design and most of imagery of Necropolis textiles is a post-structural creation in the hands of the embroiderers.

Dwyer (1971, 1979) and Paul (1990a) have defined a chronological sequence for the most elaborate burials documented by Tello and his team, based on the textile assemblage in each bundle. The Necropolis embroideries include several different styles, each with a history and evolution in its techniques and aesthetics that can be traced from gravelot to gravelot, or even within the textile assemblage of a single elaborate burial. The Linear mode typically employs running-stitch and whip-stitch, and is related in structure and iconography to contemporary Paracas Tradition embroidery, as well as other Paracas Tradition textile imagery (Rowe 2015). Men’s close-knotted headbands are closely related in design and techniques to those known from Cavernas and Ocucaje burials (Medina 2009). However, even in the early Necropolis gravelots the Linear embroideries and men’s headbands differ from those of the Paracas tradition in their yarn quality, range of colors, proportions and other specifics of technique and design. Several different production styles and image styles can be distinguished within a single gravelot (Peters 2012).

In later Necropolis burials, Linear mode embroideries are more standardized, and largely restricted to headcloths, women’s small mantles, and large mantles draped over the outer layer of elaborate male and female bundles. Except for some innovative styles in gravelots dated to Early Intermediate Period phase 1, Linear embroideries are designed around a 4-color contrast of dark blue, dark green, a strong yellow and strong reds. This same set of colors is used to weave the warppatterned bands that border women’s wrap-around dresses, large mantle-like garments that first appear in gravelots spanning the Paracas-Nasca transition (Peters 2016). Yarns and sets of colors like those used in the embroideries are used to create men’s headbands, wither in complex diagonal interlace (Frame 1991) or tubular looping (Peters 2016).

Block Color mode embroidery, based on a stem stitch, first appears in these “transitional” gravelots in Early Horizon 10B and Early Intermediate Period 1 and is related in iconography to both contemporary Paracas Tradition and early Nasca ceramics. Even more diverse in style, its variability within and among gravelots suggests that many different workshop traditions were linked by relationships of influence and exchange, with high value placed on innovation in the depiction of recurrent icons and complexity in overall textile design. Among examples from earlier gravelots, there is a range of strongly delineated, simple figures with 3-color or 4-color repetitions in the same colors used for the Linear Style (Peters 2016). Among these, Paul (1982) distinguished a Broad Line style with a particularly close relationship to contemporary Paracas Tradition textile iconography and design.

More complex figures appear on some embroideries in the Early intermediate Period burials, associated with a more diverse set of colors, different stitching patterns, and imagery more closely related to contemporary Nasca painted ceramics, decorated gourds and painted or embroidered textiles. New male garment types appear: the short open-sided tunic (esclavina, ponchito or inkuña) and the loincloth. As among the earlier burials, distinctions in both iconography and technical features suggest that diverse production groups have contributed analogous garments placed in the same mortuary bundle. Most of the embroideries probably were produced by the social groups represented in this cemetery population. Others incorporate features diagnostic of early Nasca ceramics, such as use of black, white and sometimes other colors to imitate color patterns in nature, and were probably produced by social groups more directly linked to the early Nasca tradition (fig. 3).

Figure 3. Reconstruction drawing of Arena Blanca burial 157, tomb 35 of area III-A in Hurtado’s map of this sector (Tello and Mejía 1979). Excavated in 1925, this was the first Paracas Necropolis type mortuary bundle unwrapped for analysis. Tello, Carrión and Yacovleff were examining it in 1927 when the telegram arrived reporting the discovery of a large number of burials in the area later named the Necropolis of Wari Kayán. While the embroidered mantles, net bag, headband, raptor feather tassel and blue tunic with lines of yellow feathers are like those found in EIP 1 Necropolis bundles, the feathered skin foxlike mask is resembles bundle ornaments from Ocucaje tombs.

In later Necropolis gravelots, both cotton and camelid hair plain weaves are usually dyed, and the complex Block Color style predominates even on smaller and narrow-bordered garments. However, the most elaborate imagery appears on the large mantles, where color repeats and figure directionality across the central panel create another level of design complexity analogous to the yarn directions in diagonal interlace and interlinked textiles (Carrion 1931; Stafford 1941; Frame 1986, 1991). In the very late gravelots, all the large mantles carry complex polychrome Block Color images that bring together several of the iconic figures depicted on different garments in the earlier bundles. In some cases, different figures are linked together in elaborate images or juxtaposed on the borders and central panel of a large mantle. The numbers and diversity in garment types dwindle in the very late burials, and plain wrapping cloths and large embroidered mantles predominate in the textile assemblage. These complex Block Color figures have a strong relationship to the early Nasca style, in both iconography and style. The body of related imagery occurs on both early Nasca slip painted ceramics and on early Nasca embroidered or painted textiles. Painted textiles also have been found in at least two Necropolis burials. However, the specifics of color range, stitching, iconography and textile design separate the relatively small sample of early Nasca embroideries known to be from the Nasca valley from the majority of those in the late Necropolis burials (Sawyer 1996). It is difficult to judge the social significance of the diversity of styles at the Necropolis without comparable samples of known provenience. At this point, we can say that a few embroidered garments found in later burials are closely related to examples with Nasca Valley provenience.

The complex relationship between Paracas, Topará and early Nasca presents a fascinating problem in archaeological analysis. However, here I will focus on the social implications of the burial patterns at the Necropolis of Wari Kayán.

BURIAL COMPLEXITY AND SOCIAL STATUS

After a logistically challenging excavation of 429 graves in 1927 and 1928, the Paracas Necropolis became famous for the huge mortuary bundles carefully unwrapped by Tello and his National Museum research team at public events attended by members of the Lima intelligentsia, foreign scholars, the national press and members of the international diplomatic corps. Several intact bundles and an array of artifacts were sent to the Ibero-American Exposition in Seville in 1929, where they formed the core of the Peru exhibit. The Paracas site, along with Chavín, was showcased in Antiguo Perú, a popular book that Tello wrote for the 1929 Congress of Tourism (Tello 1929). Meanwhile, exquisite textiles looted from other sectors at the Paracas site prior to Tello’s excavations were on exhibit in museums in Europe and the United States, causing admiration and inspiring scholarly analysis (Means 1932; D’Harcourt 1934; Stafford 1941). Based on the large quantities of fine embroidered textiles wrapped around some elderly males, the regalia of the “Lords of Paracas” inspired comparison to the fine fragile materials preserved in the tomb of the Egyptian Pharaoh Tutankhamen.

Julio C. Tello died relatively young in 1947 before completing his great work on Paracas. The 1959 publication of a collection of his essays together with lithographs of textile images and selected artifacts was followed by a 1979 publication of Paracas site field and laboratory notes compiled by his principal field assistant, Toribio Mejía Xesspe. However, most notes on the Paracas Necropolis burials were never published, and the nature of the cemetery population remained a mystery. After the 2000 inventory of the Tello Archive at the Cultural Center of the National University of San Marcos, conducted by a team led by Pedro Novoa under the direction of Ruth Shady, and the 2005 inventory of the Mejía Archive at the Instituto Riva Agüero of the Catholic University of Peru, under the direction of archivist Ada Arrietta, we now have the data to reconstruct a picture of the Necropolis of Wari Kayán.

This is not a cemetery of Lords and their sacrificed retainers, nor is there evidence that it was an exclusive elite precinct like those identified for the later Moche on the north coast of Peru. Tello (1929, 1959) initially proposed that the Paracas site occupation areas constituted a ritual center dedicated to a regional mortuary cult. Paul (1990a), based on data from Engel (1966) proposed that it was a permanent fishing community and could have been the source of the cemetery population. However, the demographic profile and artifacts from the Necropolis of Wari Kayán are not consistent with the local cemetery of a wealthy fishing village on the Bay of Paracas. Based on the restudy of a sample of 10% of gravelots with previously opened mortuary bundles, comparisons with artifacts from that larger group and study of archival data, we have identified consistent patterns across the cemetery that allow us to develop new models of social organization, practices, statuses, and roles played in life and after death.

Archaeologists now concur in proposing that the Paracas Necropolis cemetery represents an “ancestral cult”-the product of practices shared by other contemporary societies and related to those documented for later Andean polities (Makowski 2000; Silverman 2000; DeLeonardis and Lau 2004; Peters 2007). By this, we mean that the formation of the mortuary bundles unearthed and analyzed by Tello and his research team can best be explained by a series of ritual practices honoring certain individuals after their death. Monuments, images and the physical preservation of ancestors is often important in societies where the social and political prominence of the living, including their claim to key lands and resources, are justified by their link to the deceased. However, there is no evidence to suggest that the Paracas Necropolis was associated with a state-type society or distinct social classes.

Based on a careful examination of the evidence recorded by Tello and the other researchers, as well as our ongoing study of artifacts and human remains from the Paracas Necropolis burials, I propose that social rank and power in the communities that contributed to the Paracas Necropolis cemetery was largely based on lifetime achievement within a network of sociopolitical relationships built by the previous generation. The cemetery was founded by a generation that established regional political hegemony associated with the Topará tradition in the Chincha and Pisco valleys, but did not create a highly centralized political structure. Conquest and intermarriage with Paracas tradition communities led to processes of social and technical innovation that were expressed differently in regional kinship-based polities. In the Ica and Nasca valley systems, a more even balance of power between social leaders associated with the Paracas and Topara traditions led to a different process of interaction, the development of the early Nasca tradition, and the emergence of a more centralized regional polity at Cahuachi.

Regional ceremonial centers each provided a physical context for integration of the social management of irrigated horticulture, herding and fishing. Both these activities and the production of textiles, ceramics, basketry, gourds, tools, weapons and musical instruments were organized by gender, age and ritual authority, and integrated into the equally gendered organization of social reproduction and warfare. Social leaders managed far-flung networks of alliance and exchange that facilitated travel and access to resources of practical and ritual importance, such as obsidian, metallic ores, other minerals, dyestuffs, Spondylus shell, other marine shell and bone, and the feathers of emblematic birds, as well as more constant circulation between the south coast and adjacent highland regions.

In this model, the Paracas site was the center of periodic ritual events for the purpose of interring and attending to deceased social leaders of the Paracas tradition. The reliable groundwater sources and rich maritime resources of the Bay of Paracas could sustain relatively large social gatherings. When Topará-associated populations established political dominance in the adjacent Pisco valley, they built their adobe-walled building complexes adjacent to the Paracas habitation and mortuary sectors, and established ritual hegemony by burying their dead in those sacred precincts. For several hundred years, the Paracas site was a center for funerary rites and attention to ancestors who continued to represent the power and history of the Topará tradition, but at the same time reflect interactions among socially and politically diverse communities across a wide geographic space. According to this model, we would expect both the cemetery and habitation areas to provide physical evidence of a long history of periodic ritual gathering, and the cemetery population to reflect social and cultural diversity in each generation as well as multi-centered processes of innovation and increasing Nasca hegemony. We would also expect an over-representation of high-ranking individuals in the cemetery population.

In the crowded Necropolis of Wari Kayán, larger and smaller bundles constructed around male and female individuals are found in close proximity. Most of the smallest bundles were not as well preserved and have not been the object of further study, but in the excavation process infant, juvenile and adult burials were registered. The archival data does not match the expected age curve for a prehistoric cemetery: adults and elders are over-represented (Peters and Tomasto-Cagigao 2016), indicating a cemetery used for special-purpose burials as well as for a more general population. When excavated, some small bundles retained a layer of hardened sand beneath, evidence that these represent a single phase of funerary ritual without subsequent manipulation of the bundle in other postmortem events. These gravelots often include offerings outside the bundle, including many full-sized EH 10 phase vessels, and are usually deeply interred.

Other small bundles were clustered above much larger mortuary bundles, as noted by Tello and Mejía in later publications. Some, like the restudied bundle WK 23, are Nasca-related gravelots late in the Necropolis sequence, placed after the deeper bundles below. However, others are associated with textiles from an earlier period than those that compose a large mortuary bundle interred beneath, and were set in mixed fill without any adjacent grave goods. These bundles may have been displaced during the excavation and placement of the later burial or may have been relocated from another area. Some bundles include more than one individual. Some, like the small bundle WK 138 (located in the fill above the large bundle WK155), are clearly secondary burials composed of fragmentary wrappings and incomplete human remains, product of the rewrapping of previously disturbed contexts. Clearly, spatial relations recorded in the cemetery on excavation in 1927-1928 are the product of a complex history of previous interventions.

For complex burials studied between 1927 and 1945 and those in our restudy sample, we have data on the full artifact assemblage recorded and registered in museum collections (see www.arqueología-paracas.net) and can evaluate whether spatially contiguous gravelots demonstrate a larger proportion of artifacts closely related in style and iconography. These may include aspects of artifact form and production practices with demonstrated temporal correlations (Peters 2016) as well as aspects of image style and iconography that may indicate closer social relationships. We have identified several contiguous pairs of gravelots that are contemporary and include groups of textiles and other artifacts extremely similar in style. The relationships are diverse. For instance, EH 10 contexts WK 113 and 114 are a woman and a man who both died in middle age and received similar treatment at the time of death, but the man’s bundle demonstrates a longer history of later additions and modifications (Peters 2011, 2014). EIP 1A contexts WK 24 and WK 26 are a complex bundle built around an elder man, next to a simpler bundle built around a relatively young man. EIP 1B contexts WK 188 and WK 190 (opened as 290: see Aponte 2006) are both middle-aged men, one of whom received far greater post-mortem honors.

At the same time, it is important to note that in the crowded cemetery each of these “pairs” is adjacent to many other gravelots, some of which include contemporary artifacts closely related in style and imagery, while others do not demonstrate a close relationship. Gravelots designated as EH 10, EIP 1 and even EIP 2 can be found juxtaposed. Textiles extremely similar in style and iconography are associated with mortuary bundles scattered across Sectors A and B, as well as the few documented bundles from other tomb clusters in the Cerro Colorado and Arena Blanca sectors. Weighing all the evidence now available, the Paracas Necropolis mortuary pattern involves both initial funerary rituals and the multi-phase ritual treatment and ultimate interment of ancestral bundles in scattered locations at the Paracas site throughout the several hundred years that span the ParacasNasca transition. In the Wari Kayán sectors, clusters of temporally and socially related burials can be indentified, but contemporary rituals involving closely related participants led to interment in different areas of the crowded Necropolis. Consanguine kinship relations remain to be defined: initial DNA extraction has been successful on 50% of the individuals in our restudy sample, but further analysis of a larger sample will be necessary to evaluate patterns of biological distance within the cemetery population.

Do the men and women interred in the Paracas Necropolis come from a culturally homogeneous population? Patterns of body modification indicate some diversity, as well as change over time. While Weiss (1961) and Tello and Mejía (1979) describe a characteristic annular form of cranial modification termed “Necrópolis,” both Weiss’ photographs indicate variable forms that appear to be the product of somewhat different head binding practices in infancy. Tattoo patterns for EH 10 individuals are quite different from those for individuals in later, Nasca-related gravelots. Dausse (2015) has integrated comparisons of cranial form in a sample of individuals from Paracas Cavernas and Necropolis with other observations of body treatments including tattooing, body painting, piercing, trepanation, hair arrangement and headdress form, over the lifetime and in the postmortem context.

Among the EH 10 and EIP 1 gravelots in our restudy sample, some individuals have a rather cylindrical elongated cranium, the ‘tabula cilindrica’ form while others have a more flattened forehead and occipital area-the ‘tabula erecta’ form also characteristic of many individuals in the Cavernas tombs. Among later EIP 1B and EIP 2 mortuary bundles in the restudy group, some individuals have a somewhat wider elongated cranium while others have a broad head with flattening at the frontal and occipital areas. These preliminary observations indicate that the individuals interred in the Necropolis of Wari Kayán did not all begin their lives in communities associated with the same cranial modification practices. I have proposed that the evidence to date is consistent with assimilation after infancy into a society defined by distinct cultural practices, whether through adoption, intermarriage or some other process that modified their social group affiliation prior to their death (Peters 2009). Study of a larger groups of individuals would provide better information on the full range of forms associated with men and women from each period, as well as associations with the diverse textile styles associated with each gravelot. In order to discuss cranial modification practices as an indicator of social diversity, more exact models based on three-dimensional tomography will be helpful, particularly in order to acquire comparable information for individuals who conserve hair arrangements and headdress elements.

Tello described the elaborate burials at the Necropolis as elders, with senile characteristics such as gray hair, closure of cranial sutures and alteration of the facial structure accompanying alveolar resorption after the loss of many teeth. This focus on cranial characteristics is typical of early 20th century physical anthropology, and reflects Tello’s interest in treatments of the head such as trepanation and cranial modification, both present at Paracas. As tooth loss often occurred in young adulthood in the Paracas populations and cranial modification affects suture closure, these practices do not form a reliable measure of calendar age at the time of death. In the restudy sample, those categorized as elderly by Tello, Mejía or Weiss (1961) died in their 40s or early 50s, based on current bioanthropological methods of age assessment (Tomasto-Cagigao et al. 2013; Peters and Tomasto-Cagigao 2016). Very few individuals lived longer. While the most elaborate mortuary bundles are associated with individuals who are old enough to have exercised important roles of social leadership and to have adult descendents, not all persons who died after the age of fifty received elaborate treatment after death, indicating that other achievements also were required for a high postmortem status.

Tello characterized all of the most elaborate burials as male, based on a consistent pattern observed in a series of large mortuary bundles unwrapped between 1927 and 1939. These complex bundles also were wholly or partially created in the Early Intermediate Period, and their size is due in part to the large coiled baskets that support their base. Only one prominent female gravelot of this period (WK 28) incorporates a funerary basket, and the most complex women’s bundles studied include relatively few layers reflecting different ritual events. The total number of artifacts in the largest female mortuary bundles averages about 25% of the quantity found in the largest contemporary male bundles. This indicates that postmortem ritual was more elaborate for male ancestors, which echoes the emphasis on masculine dress and artifacts in the Necropolis iconography. Most female burials do not include objects of the warrior-ritual complex (Peters 2000), such as slings, staffs, spear throwers and large feathered fans. Nor, however, do they include implements of textile production, such as the spindle whorls found in Cavernas and Ocucaje gravelots.

Gender marking in the Necropolis bundles is clear enough that in the 1930s Tello was able to select a series of female bundles for study based on their external features. Unfortunately, these studies were not published. Among the EH 10 gravelots, the outer display layer is ornamented with woven bands and embroidered mantles, as well as sets of triangular feathered skin ornaments. Certain tattooing patterns have only been observed on women, and in the first phase of funerary ritual certain women were adorned with a set of sheet gold face ornaments. Women’s bundles include dresses with warp-patterned borders and distinctive headcloths (Peters and Tomasto-Cagigao 2016). In the later EIP 1 and 2 gravelots, feathered hairpieces crown relatively elaborate mortuary bundles associated with both men and women. There is ample evidence that some women played an important ritual role in death. As in the case of men, this likely bears a relationship to their social and ritual leadership in life (fig. 4).

Figure 4. Reconstruction drawing of WK 113, a deeply interred female burial from the central area of Sector A, adjacent to WK 114 (see Peters 2011). The embroidered borders of the red mantle and a second garment of undyed cotton have oxidized (‘carbonized’); today they are brittle and appear black. The wide tubular band draped around the top of the bundle is composed of two warp-patterned bands stitched together along the weft selvages, finished with a band of cross-knit looping and a long four-ply yarn fringe. Four feathered skin pendants are stitched to the band.

Male burials are associated with a series of weapons and other physical evidence of a social role as warrior. Objects such as a bundle of cane spears (buried without their obsidian points in this cemetery), one or more polished wooden lances and spear-throwers, a stone-headed club, and a tendon-bound stave are typical of adult male burials. Elder male burials also contain these objects. In some cases the objects are in excellent condition, but in other cases they are quite deteriorated and were probably buried many years after they were originally made and used. Some young adult men and elder men exhibit depressed fractures of the face and fractures of the cranial vault, a pattern likely to indicate participation in violent encounters. The Paracas Cavernas population is famous for surgical trepanation-perforation of the skull performed here by lifting a flap of skin and carefully scraping the bone, probably with an obsidian blade. Four cases have been noted to date in the Necropolis cemetery, all individuals identified as male. Relatively young men buried with weapons may also demonstrate special treatment at the time of death, such as an elaborate headdress arranged postmortem.

A fairly standard set of feathered regalia appears in the elaborate male burials, concentrated on the outermost decorative, or display layer. This includes feathered pins or penachos, feathered fans with a reed handle, a foxskin decorated with feathers at the ears and feet, and an open-sided tunic, termed ‘cassock’ by Tello (see Peters and Tomasto-Cagigao 2016). A stone-headed club or spear thrower may be present. Short tendon-bound staffs in some cases incorporate rings of feathers and human hair. These objects are frequently depicted being worn and carried by figures in the embroidered images.

The elaborate Block Color embroideries depict a dazzling array of figures wearing and carrying fans and staffs, tabbed tunics and feathered headdresses, ranging from those which appear human to those incorporating attributes of plants or of major animal predators of land, sea and sky (Peters 1991). Body position is important also, combining with clusters of attributes in recurrent figure types, which have been categorized as warriors, shamans (Paul and Turpin 1986) and supernaturals, or considered as a series of transformations from life to death and ancestral status (Frame 2001). The embroidered images certainly depict artifacts present among the ancestral bundles, although the particular forms of garments, headdresses, sheet gold ornaments and weapons depicted often resemble those physically present at an earlier period.

Yacovleff (1933) identified feathers from a range of Andean and Amazonian species in the Necropolis regalia. While the species names have changed in some cases, restudy of these feathered objects by Enrique Angulo has generally confirmed Yacovleff’s identifications. However, on correlating his data with our information on textile style and other indicators of temporal sequence, new information emerges. Feathers from the blue-and-yellow macaw (Ara ararauna) are present in EH 10 gravelots such as WK 114, and at Ocucaje (Rowe 2012). In contrast, the Nasca-related mortuary bundles of EIP 1 tend to be adorned with the feathers of raptors such as hawks and condors (Vultur gryphus) or social tropical forest species such as mealy parrots (Amazona sp.) and oropéndula (Psarocolius sp.). Yellow feathers in the later bundles are often from water birds such as egrets or flamingos and have evidently been dyed. While this changing pattern may reflect changes in long-distance travel or exchange, emblematic associations for certain species are suggested by the importance of hawks and condors in early Nasca imagery, including contemporary textiles from the Necropolis gravelots.

The design of textile imagery suggests that ritual authority was closely integrated with the process of creating the garments placed in each mortuary bundle. Icons depicted on the Necropolis textiles can be traced in both Linear and Block Color mode imagery (Paul 1986), and the same icon recurs in many gravelots with different production practices and image styles, as an independent figure or part of a more complex image. While very similar figures may recur in garment sets within one gravelot or in closely related burials, images are not produced in a standard series reflecting a fixed canon. Rather, their variability suggests a process of inspirational redesign, in which the reproduction of a particular icon on a mantle or garment set is based on the observation of previous examples but represents a new interpretation. Periodic gatherings involving the display and re-dressing of mortuary bundles would provide the occasion for the affirmation and renewal of the ritual authority involved in textile design. This may also explain why cloth ‘samplers’ with an array of stitched figures to be copied have been found in Cavernas and early Nasca contexts, but not in the Necropolis assemblage.

A FEW CONCLUSIONS

The Paracas Necropolis can best be analyzed as a mortuary tradition defined by a set of consistent practices that were reproduced over generations and differed in important ways from contemporary mortuary traditions of nearby and related communities, such as the Cavernas and Ocucaje tombs. Despite these continuities and the strict adherence to funerary wares of the Topará tradition-even when these no longer resembled the vessels used by the living-both the types of artifacts included in each burial and the style and techniques of their production changed a great deal during the creation and maintenance of the Necropolis of Wari Kayán. In the early burials, artifacts and even the treatment of the human body demonstrate strong relationships with contemporary Paracas Tradition communities, although the garments that predominate in Necropolis mortuary bundles have features that distinguish them from those of the neighbors. In the later burials, many different artifact styles demonstrate the influence of the emergent and developing Nasca tradition. Certain garments in gravelots from every period have been created in techniques and styles more characteristic of lower Ica and the Nasca valley system.

While the objects associated with a particular burial are highly likely to bear a relationship to the social role of that individual at the time of their death, they have been contributed to the tomb by a persons and groups that came together to mourn and honor that individual. The large quantities of fine artifacts, particularly textiles, contributed to a burial over time are considered to be evidence for the social power of a biological and socially defined descent group associated with that individual. Since elaborate funerary bundles were constructed-in some cases on repeated occasions-for display, the ritual associations of the gravelot assemblage would be related to social roles played by the deceased in the politics of later generations. The most elaborate burials may include the founders and leaders of descent groups, whose elaborate postmortem treatment both honored their achievements in life and reified the authority exercised by living leaders of the subsequent generations.

One of the mysteries of the Paracas Necropolis is the lack of comparable cemetery assemblages in the region where the recurrence of textile styles and other artifact types could be traced. Certainly organic preservation is one factor: the region has many elaborate tombs where few if any evidence of textiles is preserved. The ravages of looters have churned up many other cemeteries, destroying all evidence for context, the bodies, and many fragile artifacts. During this period, elaborate burials were no doubt maintained in other places around the south coast-and in the neighboring highlands. However, as I evaluate the evidence from the archival documents created in the excavation processes, gravelots studied in the 20th century and restudy of the artifacts and human remains, it seems likely that Tello was correct in interpreting the Paracas site as a regional center for mortuary ritual, perhaps the most important center for the Topará tradition.

The social power expressed by material accumulation at the Necropolis de Wari Kayán marks a specific historic process, bracketed by the initial displacement and cooptation of the earlier Paracas tradition occupation and the slow eclipse and transformation of the Topará tradition under the growing influence of the Nasca polity. The outstanding Paracas Necropolis textile assemblage is here considered a product of the powers of social mobilization for production, exchange, and ritual managed by the high ranking persons who produced this cemetery and were interred in it. Neither a local community nor an elite enclave, the social and political power expressed in the complex Necropolis burials is best understood as an antecedent to that of later Andean curacas, leaders of a social network of allied and rival corporate groups defined in kinship terms. Gendered roles in production, exchanges of persons and objects, clashes between warriors, and alliances mediated by ritual practice are all essential to explain the rise and fall of Topará Tradition hegemony, two thousand years ago, in the socially and culturally diverse landscape of the South Central Andes.

Acknowledgements

This essay is based in part on an introduction to Paracas Necropolis developed for the catalogue of the exhibit Mantos para la Eternidad at the Museo de América in Madrid (Peters 2009). It has been extensively revised in order to incorporate information generated by a research project supported by the National Science Foundation (2010-2014), carried out in the Museo Nacional de Antropología, Arqueología e Historia del Perú, the Museo Inka of the Universidad Nacional San Antonio Abad of Cusco, the Museo Regional de Ica “Adolfo Bermundez Jenkins”, the Tello Archive of the Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos, the Mejía Xesspe Archive at the Instituto Riva-Agüero of the Pontificia Universidad Católica del Perú, the American Museum of Natural History and the Peabody Museum of Ethnology and Archaeology of Harvard University. This project was directed by the author with bio-archaeologist Elsa Tomato-Cagigao, and analysis was carried out with the collaboration of anthropologists Mellisa Lund and Richard Sutter, textile conservators Carmen Carranza, Luis Alberto Peña and Andrés Shiguekawa, registrar Anita Graciela Murga, archival researcher Luis Alberto Ayarza, veterinarian and archaeo-zoologist Enrique Angulo, and ceramics analyst Vanessa Tinteroff. Our work has also benefited from research and publication by other colleagues during this period: their recent contributions are cited in References.

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ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Carmen Arellano Hoffmann es miembro de número de la Academia Nacional de la Historia del Perú. Fue directora del Museo Nacional de Arqueología, Antropología e Historia del Perú. Ha trabajado como asistente de curador en el Linden Museum de Stuttgart (Alemania); fue docente de la Universidad Católica de Eichstätt (Alemania) y curadora para América Latina del National Museum of the American Indian de la Smithsonian Institution. Estudió historia en la Universidad Católica del Perú y obtuvo su maestría y doctorado en antropología cultural de la Universidad de Bonn en 1987. En su carrera profesional se ha abocado a la investigación etnohistórica sobre la sierra central peruana, a los estudios sobre los sistemas de notación andinos y a la cosmovisión indígena. Ha realizado trabajos de campo, tanto arqueológicos como antropológicos, en el Perú, México, Guatemala, Chile y Brasil. Ha consultado importantes archivos históricos y tiene varias publicaciones sobre temas referentes principalmente a la etnohistoria de la sierra central y sistemas de notación andinos.

María Jesús Jiménez Díaz es doctora en antropología de América por la Universidad Complutense e investigadora independiente especializada en tejidos andinos. Ha formado parte de numerosos equipos de investigación nacionales e internacionales como especialista textil, tanto en sitios arqueológicos en el Perú, como en museos y colecciones de distintas partes del mundo. Entre estos destaca el proyecto “Realidad virtual y realidad aumentada en la difusión del patrimonio americano. La colección Chimú de Martínez Compañón en el Museo de América”, en el Museo de América de Madrid, donde ha sido investigadora asociada en los últimos quince años. Como resultado de sus investigaciones ha publicado numerosos trabajos sobre tejidos andinos y ha impartido diversas materias relacionadas con las ciencias sociales, la antropología, la arqueología y el arte precolombino en varias universidades españolas. Sus líneas de investigación actuales se centran en la relación entre los procesos tecnológicos textiles y el pensamiento en los Andes, y a partir de ahí, de las pervivencias precolombinas en la cultura y los tejidos andinos actuales.

Ann Hudson Peters empezó a observar la importancia de la vestimenta como medio de comunicación en Senegal, Ghana y Nigeria en 1973. Estudió bellas artes e historia del arte en Yale University (BA 1978). Allí inició el análisis de los textiles de Paracas, con estudios de posgrado en antropología social y arqueología en Cornell University (MA 1983, PhD 1997). También ha estudiado la vestimenta histórica de la zona Maya y la vestimenta del Formativo Superior de la zona de Tarapacá. En 2004 volvió a investigar los contextos del cementerio de Wari Kayán, sitio de Paracas, proyecto que sigue hasta el presente.

.

Six things you need to know before visiting Peru

Cash is king

lt’s a ‘cash only’ world in Peru which can take so me getting used to if you’re coming from the UK where people use plastic to pay for absolutely everything from tube fares to food shopping.

Conversely in Peru, it’s almost impossible to use credit cards in small towns and villages while, even in big citieslike Lima and Cuzco, a staggering amount of restaurants sport signs in their window saying ‘cash only’.

Don’t be snap happy

take a photoAlways ask permission before taking a picture of a Peruvian – this is especíally important lf children are involved. We have no right to take photos of people without first asking their consent.

Coca leaves can help cure altitude sickness
cocaHead spínníng? Having trouble sleepíng? Or perhaps the hotel stairs are making you breathless? If you answered yes to any of the aforementioned questions, chances are you’re suffering from altitude sickness which isn’t surprisinggiven that most visitors spend a substantial amount of time in Cusco, the cosmopolitan Inca capital that has an elevation of about 11,152 feet (Altitude sickness generally starts affecting people at 8,000 feet).

Symptoms typically dissipate within a day or two but you can help minimise them by avoiding alcohol and caffeine and drinking plenty of water and tea de coca (coca leaf tea). After a couple of sips of the latter, you’ll notice that the throbbing in your head has begun to subside and you can breathe again.
Just don’t even think about bringing a stash of coc a-the plant that is used in the manufacture of cocaine- leaves back to the UK, where they are banned.

Lima is more than a layover

Most travellers tend to check out Cuzco and Arequipa and, if not overlook Lima, then at least minimise the time spent in this bustling metropolis. Big mistake.

Peru’s capital is the second driest in the world, rising aboye a long coastline of crumbling cliffs. Lima also boasts one of the mast fabulous sunsets in the world (the city faces due west across the Pacific, so the setting sun can flood into the beaches), world-class cuisine and museums that are the envy of Latin America (here’s looking at the spectacular Museo Larco, with its galleries 01 gold and silver Chimú jewellery lighting up as the visitor approaches).

Factor in buzzing barrios like Barranco, a charming area of artists and restaurants leading down to the sea, and hip hotels – take a bow Belmond Miraflores Park – and you have a city worth stopping in rather than just using as a transit hub.

There are many ways to visit Machu Picchu

You don’t have to hike the Inca Traíl, a genuinely challenging physical experience, in arder to visit Machu Picchu for there are other ways to see the famous ruins.

If you have an aversion to strenuous exercise or are tight on time, take train up to Aguas Calientes (also known as Machu Picchu Pueblo), and visit for the day from there.

However íf you are intent on hiking to Machu Picchu via the scenic Inca Trail, as its ancient ancestors once did, forget about it in February (when the traíl is closed) and think carefully about it between June and August (the busiest months).

Journey Through Peru’s Incredible Sights in 6 Minutes

Travel to the heart of Lima, the top of Machu Picchu, and deep into the Sacred Valley. Rhythms of Peru takes you to some of Peru’s most iconic places, but also far off the tourist path. Experience a more intimate view of this beautiful country in this film from Golden Llama Productions.

Directed by Nathaniel Connella and co-produced by The Tipsy Gypsies. Tour provided by Kuoda Travel.

The Short Film Showcase spotlights exceptional short videos created by filmmakers from around the world and selected by National Geographic editors. We look for work that affirms National Geographic’s belief in the power of science, exploration, and storytelling to change the world. To submit a film for consideration, please email [email protected]. The filmmakers created the content presented, and the opinions expressed are their own, not those of National Geographic Partners.

Source: National Geographic
https://www.nationalgeographic.com/video/shorts/1310114883776/

Rainbow Mountain may become Cusco’s second-most important tourist destination

Peru’s wonderful Winikunka (Quechua word for Seven-color Mountain) could become Cusco region’s second-most important tourist destination.

This colorful mountain rises at over 5,000 m.a.s.l. and is accessible from a hiking trail that passes through breathtaking landscapes.
«Machu Picchu is still the most important (attraction). Over 90% of tourists (between 4,000-5,000) go there (…),» Cusco Regional Directorate of Foreign Trade and Tourism (Dircetur) Head Rosendo Baca told Andina news agency.
However, he said, Choquequirao archaeological complex should receive the second-highest visitor influx.
Regarding the Rainbow Mountain, Baca affirmed there is a sustained increase in tourists who visit this destination.
The Foreign Trade and Tourism Ministry (Mincetur), as well as Pitumarca and Cusipata Municipalities, College of Professionals in Tourism (Colitur), among other institutions, currently support sightseeing in the area.

Pitumarca Mayor Teodosio Cruz Huancachoque indicated between 500 and 2,500 visitors pass through his district while heading to Winikunka.
The highest numbers are registered on the weekends. Said figures might have been increasing for the past two years. In this sense, the boost may have started in November 2015.
Even though the figures are yet to be confirmed, it may be possible the Rainbow Mountain is one of the most important natural tourist destinations, right after Humantay Lake and Salkantay Trek, located in Anta and La Convencion provinces, respectively.
Lastly, Baca indicated Winikunka keeps capturing the globe’s attention, as this natural destination was advertised at the 2018 FIFA World Cup Russia with the purpose of drawing potential visitors.
(Andina)
South America’s Inca civilization was better at skull surgery than Civil War doctors

This unfortunate individual, who lived in Peru between 400 and 200 B.C.E., suffered a skull fracture (white arrow) that was likely treated with trepanation, but died less than 2 weeks later. D. KUSHNER ET AL., WORLD NEUROSURGERY 114, 245 (2018)

Cranial surgery without modern anesthesia and antibiotics may sound like a death sentence. But trepanation—the act of drilling, cutting, or scraping a hole in the skull for medical reasons—was practiced for thousands of years from ancient Greece to pre-Columbian Peru. Not every patient survived. But many did, including more than 100 subjects of the Inca Empire. A new study of their skulls and hundreds of others from pre-Columbian Peru suggests the success rates of premodern surgeons there was shockingly high: up to 80% during the Inca era, compared with just 50% during the American Civil War some 400 years later.

Trepanation likely started as a treatment for head wounds, says David Kushner, a neurologist at the University of Miami in Florida. After a traumatic injury, such surgery would have cleaned up skull fractures and relieved pressure on the brain, which commonly swells and accumulates fluid after a blow to the head. But not all trepanned skulls show signs of head injuries, so it’s possible the surgery was also used to treat conditions that left no skeletal trace, such as chronic headaches or mental illnesses. Trepanned skulls have been found all over the world, but Peru, with its dry climate and excellent preservation conditions, boasts hundreds of them.

For the new study, Kushner teamed up with John Verano, a bioarchaeologist at Tulane University in New Orleans, Louisiana, and Anne Titelbaum, a bioarchaeologist at the University of Arizona in Phoenix, to systematically study trepanation’s success rate across different cultures and time periods. The team examined 59 skulls from Peru’s southern coast dated to between 400 B.C.E. to 200 B.C.E, 421 from Peru’s central highlands dated from 1000 C.E. to 1400 C.E., and 160 from the highlands around Cusco, capital of the Inca Empire, from the early 1400s C.E. to the mid-1500s C.E. If the bone around the surgical hole showed no signs of healing, the researchers knew the patient died either during or very shortly after the surgery. Smooth bone around the opening showed that the patient had survived for months or years after the procedure.

The outcomes were amazing,” Kushner says. Just 40% of the earliest group survived the operations. But 53% of the next group survived, followed by 75% to 83% during the Inca period, the researchers report this month in World Neurosurgery. (A shocking 91% of patients survived in an additional sample of just nine skulls from the northern highlands between 1000 C.E. and 1300 C.E.)

Techniques also seemed to improve over time, resulting in smaller holes and less cutting or drilling and more careful “grooving,” which would have reduced the risk of puncturing the brain’s protective membrane called the dura mater and causing an infection. “What we’re looking at is over 1000 years of refining their methods,” says Corey Ragsdale, a bioarchaeologist at Southern Illinois University in Edwardsville who wasn’t involved in the study. “They’re not just getting lucky. … The surgeons performing this are so skilled.” Several patients appear to have survived multiple trepanations; one Inca-era skull showed five healed surgeries.

Kushner and Verano then compared those success rates with cranial surgeries on soldiers in the American Civil War, which used similar methods. Battlefield surgeons also treated head wounds by cutting away bone while trying not to puncture the brain’s delicate dura mater membrane. According to Civil War medical records, some 46% to 56% of cranial surgery patients died, compared with just 17% to 25% of Inca-era patients.

Some of the differences in survival rates may be due to the nature of the patients’ injuries before the surgery, says Emanuela Binello, a neurosurgeon at Boston University who has studied trepanation in ancient China. “The trauma that occurs during a modern civil war is very different from the kind of trauma that would have been happening at the time of the Incas,” she says. Many Civil War soldiers suffered from gunshot and cannonball wounds that were quickly treated in crowded and unsanitary battlefield hospitals, which promoted infections. Still, Binello calls the survival rate of trepanations in Peru “astonishing.” “It’s a credit to what these ancient cultures were doing,” she says.

Source: www.sciencemag.org

doi:10.1126/science.aau4225

Lizzie Wade

Lizzie is Science‘s Latin America correspondent, based in Mexico City.

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