Dye Plants Used by the Indigenous Peoples of the Amur River Basin on Fish Skin Artefacts

Abstract

Research on fish skin artefacts’ dyeing practices among the Nivkh, Nanai, Ulchi, Udegei, Oroch, and Negidal Indigenous Peoples of the Amur River basin remains scarce. These fishing communities traditionally crafted fish skin garments, essential to their subsistence and spiritual life, adorning them with protective motifs. While artistic and cultural aspects of these belongings have been explored, their dyeing techniques remain understudied. This multidisciplinary research examines natural colourants in fish skin artefacts from international museum collections, using historical textual research, ethnographic records, Native Traditional Knowledge, and previous dye analysis by museum conservators. Findings reveal a restricted but meaningful palette of red, blue, yellow, and black colourants, sourced from plants, minerals, and organic materials. Early dyers extracted blue from indigotin-rich plants such as Polygonum tinctorium, or from Commelina communis petals. Red hues were obtained from Carthamus tinctorius petals, introduced through Silk Route trade networks, or from minerals like red ochre. Black was derived from carbon black, while riverine minerals were ground with dry fish roe diluted with water to create additional colour variations. This study first reviews fish skin use in Amur River Indigenous cultures, explores nineteenth-century dyeing materials and techniques, and finally considers broader implications for Indigenous material heritage.

1. Introduction

1.1. Historical Introduction

Along the Arctic and sub-Arctic coasts of Alaska, Siberia, Northeastern China, Hokkaido, Scandinavia and Iceland, Native Peoples have dressed in clothes or worn shoes made of fish skin for millennia. Specifically, in Siberia, the Amur River (Figure 1), stretching over 2700 miles, has long been a major cultural and economic artery of southeastern Russia, supporting Indigenous communities and facilitating early trade networks that linked China, Mongolia, and the Siberian interior [1,2]. This historical exchange of goods, technologies, and artistic traditions shaped the material culture of the region. The Amur Basin continues to be home to several Indigenous groups, including the Nivkh, Nanai, Ulchi, Udegei, Oroch, and Negidal in Russia. The Nanai also inhabit the Chinese side of the Amur River, where they are known as the Hezhe [3,4,5]. These groups maintain linguistic and cultural connections with the Nivkh and Ainu, who historically migrated from the Sakhalin and Hokkaido Islands.

Clothing serves as both a functional necessity and a medium for cultural expression, reflecting the identity of both its maker and wearer. Among the Indigenous Peoples of the Amur River basin, fish skin garments were meticulously crafted through a sequence of interdependent steps, including fishing (Figure 2a), processing (Figure 2b), tanning, dyeing, sewing, and embroidery. These garments were not only practical but also carried spiritual significance. They bore protective motifs designed to shield the wearer from malevolent forces and were worn during rituals, such as weddings, funerals, and hunting ceremonies, marking key transitions in life [6,7,8]. During bear festivals, where the bear was venerated as a powerful spirit master and provider of game, a bear captured as a cub and raised by the clan was ceremonially killed. In these ceremonies, women north of the Amur River danced with their backs to the animal, and the embroidery on the back of their robes served to protect them from the dangers associated with the bear [6] The making of fish skin garments was a labour-intensive process, with knowledge passed down through generations. However, the introduction of synthetic fibres, chemical colourants, mass production, and shifts in cultural practices have contributed to the decline of this art.

Fish skin was widely used not only for clothing and footwear but also for functional objects such as tents, sled covers, storage bags, and windowpanes. Compared to reindeer skin, fish skin offered a lightweight and durable alternative, particularly suited for summer garments [9]. In colder months, fish skin robes were layered over fur clothing, providing insulation while remaining breathable [2,10,11]. Fish skin garments were custom-made for the wearer, with men’s robes (Figure 3a) typically shorter and simpler than women’s (Figure 3b), which were longer and more elaborately embellished [4]. Decorative techniques included fish skins dyed with colourants of plant and mineral origin or painted with birchbark stencils, chiselled or cut out [12]. Fish skin stencilled motifs were stuck with fish glue on the garment in relief and sewn with stitches in contrasting colours, using Chinese cotton or silk embroidery threads, creating a polychrome, layered depth effect [11]. The designs could also be embossed using a method similar to trapunto [9]. The borders were defined by bands of embroidered and indigo-dyed cotton, which reinforced the structure and symbolic shielding of the garment [11].

Patterns were carefully arranged to ensure the wearer’s protection. Embroidered motifs placed on the back (Figure 4a) shielded the wearer from unseen malevolent spirits approaching from behind, particularly women working at the fire with their backs to the door [11,13,14]. Intricate decorations also communicated the wearer’s history and lineage. Metallic pendants and Chinese coins sewn along hems (Figure 4b) served both as amulets and status symbols; their movement and sound could ward off demons [11,15]. Fish skin robes featured a minimalistic front design with black painted borders running from the hem and on garment openings—collars, hems, and sleeves—a barrier function from evil spirits that could enter through these vulnerable points [16,17,18].

The very act of embroidery was considered powerful. The embroiderer of the Nivkh myths was a magician, and the terms used for embroidering ornaments and needlework also meant witchcraft and evil spells [19]. Common motifs—the Tree of Life, the river, fish, plants, birds (ducks, swans, and eagles), tigers, bears, and sun symbols—were rooted in shamanic mythology [13]. Designs were strategically placed along the garment symbolising different spiritual realms: upper borders representing the sky, the hem signifying the underworld, and the central section reflecting the human world [20]. These patterns, passed down through female lineage, reinforced ancestral connections [21].

1.2. Historical Tanning Technology

The following sections discuss the traditional technology of tanning and dyeing fish skin used by the Amur River Peoples as recorded in historical literature and corroborated by contemporary fish skin artists such as Native Nanai Anatoly Donkan.

The technological expertise of Amur Indigenous groups was demonstrated by their mastery of fish skin processing. Unlike other Northern Peoples who relied on reindeer hides or marine animal skins, the Amur Peoples perfected fish skin tanning techniques using natural substances like brain matter, fish roe, and decayed wood [22].

Ethnographers such as Richard Maak (1855) [23] and Ivan Lopatin (1922) [24] documented these techniques, highlighting their efficiency:

“The skin of a caught fish is not removed immediately: having disembowelled the fish, it is hung up on a drying rack, where it stays for a day or two, and only then the skin is removed. The newly removed raw skin is pinned to dry on the wall of a barn, having previously stretched it as much as possible. After two or three days of such drying the skins are removed from the wall and, having put them all one on another and having pressed them with something heavy, left them to dry finally in the wind. After that the dry skins are crumpled on a special wooden artefact (Figure 5). The device consists of a hoe and a loom, which has a hollow in the middle part, where the skin is placed, and at the ends-notches, where the tanner puts her feet to press the artefact. Work consists of pounding the skin, crumpled into a lump, with a hammer and frequently turning it. When dressing fish skin, fish roe and animal brains are used. The skin is greased several times with these substances, and then it is crumpled and finally kneaded by hand…” [24].

Scraping knives made of bone or wood ensured the skin remained intact during processing, while ash and rhododendron leaves were used to eliminate fishy odours [25]. Softening involved rolling the skin with rotten willow wood to remove excess grease [26]. Nanai and Ulchi applied chewed fish roe or stomachs to enhance water resistance and soften the skins due to their oily content [4,26]. The last step was to stretch the skins manually and rub them with volcanic pumice stone to acquire all their flexibility [27].

The Amur People’s tanning craftsmanship ensured that fish skin items exemplified an ecological approach to material use, adhering to the principle of taking only what was needed while wasting nothing [25,28].

1.3. Historical Dyeing Technology

In Journey to the Amur, Siberian explorer R.K. Maak [23] observed the artistic sensibility of the Amur River Native Peoples, remarking on their sophisticated use of patterns and harmonious colour schemes. He noted that “none of the other inhabitants of Eastern Siberia has such a well-developed artistic instinct” [21].

The production of fish skin garments required the careful selection and assembly of skins by shape and shade, with more elaborate decoration reserved for ceremonial or festive wear [27]. Natural colourants—derived from local minerals, plants, and animal-based substances—were essential not only for aesthetic purposes but also for their symbolic and medicinal associations. Dyes imbued garments with protective and healing powers, based on the medicinal properties of the plants from which the colourants originated [29].

1.3.1. Fish Skin Colourants

Historically, fish skins offered a natural spectrum of earth tones, often making additional dyeing unnecessary [30]. Artists enhanced garments by carefully selecting skins based on their chromatic gradients—such as salmon’s honey-brown hues—and strategically arranging them for visual depth [31].

As specific hues became desirable, Amur communities developed dyeing technologies rooted in local ecology. The dyeing process involved immersing skins in solutions obtained from decocted, macerated or fermented plant parts—petals, seeds, leaves, bark, berries, and roots—producing a wide spectrum of colours [32,33]. Fish glue, prepared from skin, scales, swim bladders, or boiled viscera, served as both an adhesive and pigment binder [32,33]. Tannins from bark were among the earliest dyeing agents, valued for their dual tanning and colouring properties. Minerals were ground and sometimes mixed with substances like fish blood or fish roe to produce stable colourants. For instance, red ochre was soaked in fish blood and heated, while black was produced from carbon black or soot [34,35]. Mordanting methods to fix dyes included alum, ash, and earth [36].

Accurate botanical identification is critical to understanding the sources referenced in historical dyeing. This research integrates ethnobotanical, medicinal, and historical research to trace the provenance and application of dye plants such as Indigo (Polygonum tinctorium), Safflower (Carthamus tinctorius), Sappanwood (Biancaea sappan), and Amur cork tree (Phellodendron amurense) in the region [37]. Identifying these botanical sources provides further information on how local knowledge systems informed dye production and fish skin aesthetics. The refinement of dyeing techniques reflects human creativity, ecological adaptation, and intercultural knowledge exchange. These practices evolved in response to the availability of local resources and the aesthetic, functional, and spiritual needs of daily life, resulting in regionally distinct yet interconnected traditions of natural colour application [38].

1.3.2. White

White was particularly valued for ceremonial attire. Bleached Amur carp skins, treated with clay and brain paste and stored in cold conditions, were used to achieve pale shades. Exposure to freezing air further lightened the skin. Colouring was also more effective on a bleached skin [22,25].

1.3.3. Black

Black colourants were achieved using tannin-rich plant materials mordanted with iron. Soot (fine carbon particles from burning bark) also served as a dyeing source [39]. Explorer Georg Steller, during Bering’s expedition (1737–1742), documented a highly stable black colourant made from birch bark soot (Figure 6a) mixed with chewed salmon roe (Figure 6b) used in fish skin and birchbark decorations [21,27].

1.3.4. Red

Red colourants have been obtained worldwide by using a large variety of local plants.

• Alder (Alnus) bark with its distinctive red inner surface was boiled, sometimes with urine as a mordant, to yield red and brown hues [25,40]. It was used in dyeing and tanning, playing a significant role in ceremonial contexts across the North [22,41,42].
• Red ochre: Hematite-rich red ochre (Figure 7a) was mixed with fish blood or burned in fire to intensify its hue [43,44,45]. It was used wet, placed at the end of a stick, and applied to seams of bags, boots, and robes (Figure 7b) [46]. Archaeological excavations along the Amur revealed fragments of earthenware covered with red ochre, suggesting its significance in Indigenous dyeing practices [47].

• Safflower (Carthamus tinctorius L.) (Figure 8a) was valued by dyers for the red and yellow components such as carthamin and precarthamin [36]. It was introduced to ancient China from the West in the Han Dynasty and became widely regarded as a quintessentially Chinese dye [48,49,50]. In Japan, fabrics dyed with safflower were worn next to the skin since the Heian period to promote healing. Initially producing a vibrant red with high purity, carthamin, the main colouring matter of the dye, has poor fastness and fades to a subdued orange (Figure 8b) when exposed to prolonged light [51]. It was processed using an alkaline bath, slightly acidic, using ash lye [34].

• Sappanwood: Extracted from Biancaea sappan (Figure 9a), a small tree belonging to the legume family and native to most of China, the heartwood produces reds (Figure 9b) and purples depending on the pH and mordants used [34].

1.3.5. Yellow

Yellow colourants are less resistant to fading than red or blue colourants, and the yellow shades observed today might be different from the originals [52,53].

• Safflower (Carthamus tinctorius L.). The florets produce a bright yellow colour similar to the more expensive saffron [54]. The yellow components are in higher concentration than the reds (25% to 36%); however, they are often discarded due to poor lightfastness [37].
• Amur cork tree (Phellodendron amurense). Originally found by the Amur River basin, the inner bark of the tree is rich in plant alkaloids, including berberine, limonin, and phellodendrine, producing bright lemon-yellow tones. The colourants are highly soluble in water without the need for a mordant [34]. The bark with antimicrobial and spiritual qualities is considered one of the foundational herbs of Traditional Chinese Medicine, elevating its importance in East Asian dye traditions [37,55].

1.3.6. Blue

Indigo (Figure 10a) was one of the earliest and most significant natural blue colourants, valued for its deep hue distinct from traditional earth tones [56]. It was used to dye decorative elements on Amur River fish skin robes (Figure 10b).

• Indigo: Derived from Polygonum tinctorium, prized for its colourfastness and deep hue, indigo was introduced to Russian territories in the Caucasus in 1835 [35]. Indigo dyeing involves a long process of fermenting the leaves (Figure 11a) to allow some of the enzymes to transform into blue indigotin and the use of ash lye and mild temperatures to provide the oxidation that causes the blue colour to appear (Figure 11b) [34,52].

• Asiatic dayflower (Commelina communis L.). According to Nanai Elder Anatoly Donkan, another source of blue colourant was Commelina communis, whose light blue petals contain anthocyanins [53], yielding ultramarine tones [25]. Used by 11th-century Japanese artists, its ephemeral colour was used to stain kimonos with a technique known as yūzen-dyeing or on woodblock printing [57].

1.3.7. Green

Green was commonly produced by over-dyeing yellow with indigo, as few natural green colourants are stable. Double-dyeing and copper mordants were also employed to achieve desired shades [34].

1.4. Synthetic Colourants

Natural colourants have been used since prehistoric times and remained the primary source for textile dyeing until the advent of synthetic dyes in the mid-nineteenth century [58]. The discovery of the first synthetic dye, mauveine—also known as aniline purple—by William H. Perkin in 1856 marked the beginning of the synthetic dye industry. Commercial production of mauveine began in 1857, and by 1897, 404 new synthetic dyestuffs were introduced in the market [58,59]. Despite this rapid innovation, the transition from natural to synthetic colourants was gradual and varied across regions and materials [60]. In Asia, natural colourants of plant and mineral origin continued to be used well into the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, particularly in remote areas like the Amur River. Man-made colourants produced in Europe only gradually entered Asian markets during this period [61]. Nevertheless, it is reasonable to assume that the fish skin robes examined in this paper were dyed prior to the widespread adoption of synthetic dyes, likely before the end of the nineteenth century.

While some natural colourants persisted in artisanal and ceremonial contexts, synthetic colourants changed aesthetic techniques, replacing embroidered appliqué with painted decoration. Chinese ink mixed with fish or seal oil was used for adding intricate patterns to garments [11]. At the end of the 19th century, Shrenck [62], a Russian zoologist, geographer and ethnographer, mentioned that some fish skin robes were decorated at the hem with blue-black stripes. As the stripes were resistant to rain, Shrenck conjectured that the colourants were obtained by mixing Chinese ink with fish or seal tran.

2. Materials and Methods

2.1. Indigenist Research Methodology

Identification of natural colourants historically used in Amur River fish skin artefacts remains challenging due to limited documentation and the gradual loss of traditional ecological knowledge. In response, researchers have advocated for approaches that integrate Indigenous knowledge systems, including the spiritual dimensions of dyeing practices [63].

Over the past decade, the author, a Research Associate at the Smithsonian Arctic Studies Center specialising in Arctic fashion anthropology, has employed an Indigenist research methodology grounded in the wisdom, culture, and experience of Indigenous communities [64,65,66,67,68,69,70], while incorporating practices of cultural and land recognition [71]. This methodology prioritises Indigenous Elders as primary sources, respects cultural protocols, and centres mutual respect within collaborative research [72,73].

Fieldwork conducted in partnership with Native Elders has focused on traditional flora and fauna used in fish skin production. Values of respect, reciprocity, and careful listening have underpinned these collaborations. Rituals and protocols guided scientific inquiry, allowing Traditional Knowledge and contemporary methods to complement one another. Partnerships were established to co-create knowledge in ethically reciprocal ways.

Research contributions from Elders June Pardue (Sugpiaq/Iñupiaq), Anatoly Donkan (Nanai), Wengfen Yu (Hezhe), Lotta Rhame (Swedish), and Shigehiro Takano (Japanese, engaged with the Ainu community) have been instrumental. Their collaboration strengthened understanding of human–environment relations and the holistic worldviews embedded in Indigenous practices. Collaborative work with Elders, conservators, and scientists facilitated knowledge reconstruction on fish skin traditions, aiming to amplify Indigenous voices while avoiding appropriation. Over the past two years, I have been co-authoring the revised chapter on aquatic skins for Conservation of Leather and Related Materials, a key text widely used in conservation training. In response to developments in the field, the publishers invited me, through a conservator, and I assembled a team comprising another conservator and three major fish skin artists (Anatoly Donkan, June Pardue, and Lotta Rahme). Throughout the revision process, we held regular meetings involving conservators, fish skin artists, and me, focusing on traditional fish skin practices. Within this collaborative framework, the historical literature on Amur River practices discussed in this paper was corroborated through direct consultation and museum visits with Native artist Anatoly Donkan, examining Amur River and Ainu fish skin artefacts in collections in Hokkaido and Berlin.

2.2. Ethnographic Research

Ethnographic research about the Amur River Indigenous Peoples began in the mid-nineteenth century, following earlier observations by Russian explorers in the seventeenth century. The expeditions of Nevelskoy (1849–1855) and subsequent researchers such as Schrenck [62], Maak [23], and Laufer provided foundational documentation on Nivkh, Nanai and Ulchi Native communities [27,47]. Lopatin’s early twentieth-century research further studied Nanai material culture, including fish skin garments [21,24]. Important contributions were later made by scholars such as Sternberg, Black [5,33], VanStone [4], and Buijs [2,10], who analysed museum collections and historical practices. Recent interdisciplinary research by Dalles Maréchal [8,20] has further enriched knowledge of Nanai embroidery.

Throughout this research, ethnographic findings derived from literature have been consistently corroborated through practice-based knowledge and Traditional Knowledge as shared by Nanai Elder Anatoly Donkan https://www.anatol-donkan.com/ (accessed on 10 May 2025).

3. Results

3.1. Fish Skin Artefact Case Studies

A review of existing literature highlights a lack of detailed chemical studies on fish skin artefacts. Most available research focuses on conservation, not on material analysis. This gap affects the understanding, conservation, and display of Amur River artefacts in museum collections. This study examined late nineteenth- to early twentieth-century fish skin artefacts held at the Penn Museum in Philadelphia and the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A) in London. Visual examinations were conducted collaboratively with curators and, where possible, Native artists, focusing on tanning, dyeing, and construction techniques. Although not representative of the entire region’s diversity, these case studies illustrate characteristic regional practices and colour palettes. The case studies presented here build on the few available technical analyses and are complemented with ethnographic, historical evidence and Native Traditional Knowledge.

3.2. V&A Fish Skin Robe. Museum No. 626-1905

In 2019, the author conducted a visual assessment of a salmon skin robe held at the V&A, with support from curator Sau Fong Chan (Figure 12). Although the author has expertise in ethnography, anthropology, and fashion history, no new chromatography (TLC) or other chemical analyses were performed. This study draws on the conservation report produced by Marion Kite from the V&A’s textile conservation department in 1999 [50].

The robe, acquired by the V&A in 1905, is described as a “Gilyak robe” (a historical term for the Nivkh people) from the Lower Amur River region [18,50,74]. Constructed from the skins of approximately sixty salmon, sewn with sinew, the robe incorporates symbolic design elements. The scales arranged on the back (Figure 12b) form motifs associated with protection, such as the dragon’s armour, traditionally worn by Nanai brides to ward off evil spirits during the bride’s journey to her husband’s village. These robes functioned as protective garments during this physical and metaphysical transition, from daughter to wife and from one clan to another [6,7].

Decorative motifs—crafted from both undyed and dyed skins in shades of blue, red, and black—were applied to each scale (Figure 13a). These motifs were secured using first fish glue and then silk threads in orange-red, grey-green, and dark blue hues (Figure 13b). Further embroidery was used to outline the designs, particularly on the lower tiers of scales, adding visual depth and complexity to the garment’s appearance [50]. The technical study provided insights into conservation treatments and preliminary dye identification.

3.2.1. Fish Skin Pigment Analysis Performed by Marion Kite in 1999

According to Kite’s 1999 conservation report [50], small samples were taken from the blue, red, black, and green/blue painted areas, and polished cross-sections were prepared and examined microscopically in incident light at x100–x500, and dispersions of the pigments were examined under polarised light. Some microchemical tests were performed.

Blue: The cross-section showed a thin, stain-like blue colourant on the leather surface; no individual pigment particles were observed. Microchemical testing excluded copper-based pigments and suggested the presence of indigo. The fine nature of the pigment particles also suggests indigo. However, it was not possible to conclusively identify the pigment using only an optical microscope [50].

Red: The cross-section showed a thin orange-red paint layer; the appearance and the microscopic and polarised light examination suggested a natural earth pigment or ochre [50].

Black: The cross-section showed a thin black paint layer; examination of a dispersion of the black pigment indicated the likely use of carbon black, but precise identification was not possible [50].

Green-Blue: The cross section showed a thin stain-like colouration; individual pigment particles could not be seen; microchemical tests suggested a mixture of indigo with another pigment, but further analysis would be necessary to confirm this [50]. Literature references suggest that dyer’s knotgrass (Polygonum tinctorium) was cultivated in Russian territories by the 1830s [54].

Binding media for the pigments could not be determined [50].

3.2.2. Dye Analysis of Embroidery Threads by Marion Kite, 1999

Dye analysis on silk embroidery threads was conducted using solvent extraction [50], absorption spectrophotometry, and thin-layer chromatography (TLC) to determine their composition and potential Chinese or Japanese origin. A modification of the extraction procedure, to characterise safflower, was used for the red dye [49,50].

Red: Identified as derived from the petals of safflower (Carthamus tinctorius L.) [50], consistent with known Chinese textile practices [48,49].

Grey and Blue: Both colours were identified as indigotin [50]. Blue indigotin can be derived from several plants. The most likely dye source is knotweed, Polygonum tinctorium, which grows in China and Japan [54]. The behaviour of the colourant under analysis was consistent with indigotin, whether derived from natural or synthetic sources. However, as synthetic indigo was only invented at the end of the nineteenth century, it is considered unlikely that synthetic dye was used in this context [50].

Green: The blue dye had been combined with a natural yellow dye. The yellow component could not be conclusively identified due to the diversity of flavonoids and other plant-based yellow dyes available in China and Japan. The colour of the yarn after the blue component had been removed was a clear yellow, which may indicate the use of alum as a mordant [50].

These findings highlight a sophisticated use of locally sourced natural colourants in the fish skins and possibly a Chinese origin for the coloured embroidery threads, offering insight into the intercultural exchange of colourants and technologies across Northeast Asia during the 19th century.

3.3. Penn Museum Siberian Fish Skin Child’s Robe (2003-43-1)

In 2022, the author visited the Amur River fish skin collection at the Penn Museum at the invitation of William Wierzbowski, Keeper of the Collections of the Americas. Wierzbowski kindly shared with her a conservation report by Maggie Bearden [75] discussing a Siberian fish skin child’s robe held at the Penn Museum, providing knowledge on conservation practices and historical context, though it does not include dye analysis. The robe was accessioned in 2003 as part of a 305-piece ethnographic collection from the Amur River. Originally owned by the Commercial Museum in Philadelphia, it was assembled through the purchase of objects from the Khabarovsk Regional Museum, displayed at the 1900 Exposition Universelle in Paris, and through an 1898 expedition to China and Siberia. Following the close of the Paris Exposition, William Wilson, Director of the Commercial Museum, arranged for this collection, along with other ethnographic materials purchased at the Fair, to be shipped to Philadelphia to expand the museum he had founded in 1893. The Commercial Museum retained the collection until its closure in 1994 [76].

The carp skin robe (Figure 14a) is richly decorated. The upper bodice, both front and back, features a pale ground with intricate motifs hand-painted with red, black, yellow, and blue-green colourants (Figure 14b). The robe is trimmed with a thick, hand-painted black band along the neckline, hem and front opening, and incorporates scrolls and tri-lobed floral motifs with fertility symbolism on the bodice. The lower portion of the robe is predominantly yellow, while the sleeves are dyed red, and the cuffs display banded motifs consistent with the bodice decoration (Figure 14a).

Although fish skin was the primary material for outerwear among Amur River communities, cotton was highly valued for linings and hems [5]. While the lining of a second fish skin robe (2003-43-7) (Figure 15b), part of a mother and daughter duo in the collection, has not been scientifically analysed, it suggests the use of indigo-dyed repurposed cotton based on visual observation and ethnographic literature [11]. This reflects local practices and the trade networks through which women exchanged embroidered fish skin garments with explorers and missionaries for fabric scraps to use on linings and hems [23,77].

4. Discussion

Scientific dye analysis of Amur River fish skin artefacts remains scarce, and few studies have employed non-invasive analytical techniques on such materials. In this study, material identification has been based on visual examination, comparison with traditional practices, and a review of existing conservation literature, rather than new direct chemical analysis. Two fish skin robes—held at the V&A Museum and the Penn Museum—dating to the late nineteenth century, were visually examined, and further literature research was conducted. According to previous conservation analysis by Marion Kite (1999) [50] of the V&A robe, she suggests that indigo was used for the blue shades, red ochre as a natural source for red and carbon black for black tones.

Embroidery threads were reportedly dyed with safflower (red), indigo (blue), and green shades produced by combining indigo with a natural yellow.

Further, nineteenth-century ethnographic sources describe the use of indigo (Polygonum tinctorium), Asiatic dayflower (Commelina communis L.), safflower (Carthamus tinctorius), sappanwood (Biancaea sappan), Amur cork tree (Phellodendron amurense), and alder (Alnus) bark, the latter used as a tannin source to modify red shades. These natural colourants align with those available and used in Asia during the nineteenth century.

The adoption of synthetic dyes would have depended on their availability in the Amur River Basin and the willingness of individual artists to incorporate them into traditional practices. Although synthetic dyes became commercially available in Europe after 1856, their gradual diffusion into remote regions was uneven. Consequently, it is likely that the fish skin robes discussed here were dyed predominantly with natural colourants prior to the widespread adoption of synthetic alternatives. This conclusion is supported by provenance research. The V&A fish skin robe was acquired in 1905. Although the Penn Museum’s fish skin robe was only accessioned in 2003, it belongs to a historical collection originally assembled by the Commercial Museum in Philadelphia from acquisitions made during an 1898 expedition to China and Siberia and purchases from the Khabarovsk Regional Museum for the 1900 Exposition Universelle in Paris, affirming that the robe itself is a late nineteenth-century artefact [76].

Future research on historical collections should prioritise non-invasive analytical techniques to confirm the specific colourants used on fish skin cultural heritage artefacts. More systematic characterisation of traditional dye sources from the Amur River—still an insufficiently studied area—would enable more reliable conclusions regarding provenance, chronology, and intercultural exchanges.

5. Conclusions

The fish skin robes examined in this study are not merely garments; they are ceremonial belongings that guide women through major life transitions, symbolising spiritual protection. Their creation requires intricate technical skill and ritual knowledge passed down through generations. Embroidered motifs function both as protective symbols and as markers of social status. Their durability ensures their continued use in life and death rituals, embodying the endurance of cultural heritage.

Specific knowledge of the dyes used, combined with historical literature, can provide further history of fish skin artefacts. Furthermore, this information represents a valuable source for Indigenous groups seeking to revitalise traditional fish skin art, ensuring authenticity in materials and tanning and dyeing technology [78]. Understanding dye composition is also crucial for conservation planning and preservation strategies [61].

The historical use of natural dyes by Indigenous Amur communities reflects the relationship between humans and their environment, with dye materials often holding medicinal, spiritual, and cultural significance. This research highlights the importance of collaborative partnerships with local experts, integrating ethnographic testimonies with scientific methods, to better document and understand fish skin dyeing traditions. Recognising local Native Knowledge systems as valid methodologies in their own right is critical, especially when studying non-European art forms that fall outside conventional material analysis frameworks. By focusing on the Amur River Basin material culture, this study contributes to the fields of art history, anthropology, ethnography, and ethnobotany.

Preserving and ethically applying traditional dyeing practices is essential—not only to protect endangered techniques but also to offer sustainable, meaningful alternatives to industrial dyeing practices. The environmental risks associated with synthetic dyes further highlight the need to promote safe, natural-based alternatives that are both ecologically sustainable and culturally respectful.