Pushkin’s presents The Burmese Noble Silver Collection
Pushkin’s is proud to present The Noble Silver Collection; the most extensive and meticulously documented private collection of Burmese silver work in existence.
This blog is dedicated to exploring the visual language and cultural significance of these exceptional works. Spanning the full breadth of Burma’s Silver Age, the collection highlights the extraordinary craftsmanship of 19th and early 20th Century Burmese silversmiths, with a particular emphasis on ceremonial offering bowls adorned with detailed Buddhist iconography.
We are honoured to offer this extraordinary collection, curated by David Owens, whose lifelong dedication to Asian history, culture, and art has preserved these works for future generations. It is our privilege to have been entrusted with the responsibility of finding a new custodian who will value the collection with the same passion and care that he has.
The phrase ‘Burmese silver work’ broadly refers to a variety of objects that differ in design, purpose, and decorative detail. A defining example is the ceremonial offering bowl, which closely reflects the shape and role of the alms bowl (thabeik) traditionally carried by Buddhist monks (Fig. 1). This type of vessel forms the core of the Noble Silver Collection.
Wealthy Burmese patrons typically commissioned these silver bowls for use in ceremonial offerings, both religious and secular rituals, as well as for votive purposes and as symbols of status within the home. Additional traditional forms of Burmese silver include cylindrical betel boxes (Fig. 2), rectangular cheroot and treasure boxes, storage jars for rice and dried fish, lime containers, water bowls, and vases. In terms of form, ornamentation, and ownership, these pieces represent a distinctly 'domestic' category of silverwork.
Silversmiths also produced cross-cultural pieces that blended Burmese and European styles and functions. These were typically commissioned by foreign residents in Burma as gifts, trophies, or personal mementoes, forming what is considered an 'export' category of silverwork. However, there is no indication that silver was manufactured on a commercial scale for export during the Silver Age.
A further, more specialised category was created by master silversmiths for international and domestic art competitions organised by the British colonial authorities in India during the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. These pieces were often highly elaborate and intended as ceremonial centrepieces or display items. One such example by a distinguished silversmith is currently on view in the silver gallery of the Victoria and Albert Museum in London.
Historical and Cultural Background
Silverwork, or pan-htyan, is recognised as one of Burma’s traditional artistic crafts, with roots tracing back to the Pyu city-states that flourished in the central Irrawaddy river valley between around 100 BCE and 900 CE.
The earliest surviving example of Pyu silverwork was unearthed in 1926 during the excavation of the Khin Ba burial mound near the ancient city of Sri Ksetra. This archaeological find yielded more than 50 artefacts, including a notable collection of silver items. Among them were ornamented bowls and plates that bear a striking resemblance to Silver Age pieces created nearly two millennia later. Some scholars attribute the stylistic influences of Pyu silver to early Indian cultures, particularly those of Andhra Pradesh and the Gupta Empire.
The two most prominent narrative themes found on Silver Age Burmese silver; the Buddhist Pali Canon and the Ramayana; also reveal deep-rooted Indian cultural influence. The Pali Canon, central to Theravada Buddhism, is believed to preserve the original teachings of the Buddha, who lived in northern India during the 6th to 5th centuries BCE. The Ramayana, attributed to the poet Valmiki, is a Hindu epic composed during the Vedic period (c. 1500–500 BCE), recounting the life and moral journey of Prince Rama.
A defining feature of Burmese silver work is its frequent use of Buddhist and Hindu religious iconography. These symbolic motifs give the objects a spiritual dimension that becomes evident through careful interpretation of the imagery. Original owners would have used these visual narratives to transmit and affirm religious teachings and ethical principles. This profound integration of sacred storytelling is unique to Burmese silver and is not paralleled in the silver work traditions of other Asian cultures.
Provenance
Burma has never operated an official hallmarking system to authenticate the provenance of silver. It was also uncommon for silversmiths to sign domestic-class pieces, and no known workshop records survive to assist in tracing individual origins. This challenge is not unique to Burmese silver; it also applies to a significant portion of 19th and early 20th Century silver work from other Asian countries, including China, India, and Thailand. In the Burmese context, the silversmith’s anonymity aligns with deeply held religious and cultural principles. Buddhist teachings discourage vanity, pride, and attachment to material possessions; providing strong justification for the absence of maker’s marks.
A notable exception occurs in silver produced by master craftsmen for foreign clients or for national and international art exhibitions sponsored by the British colonial administration in India. In such cases, some silversmiths did inscribe their work, creating rare and sought-after examples with identifiable makers.
W.R.T. Wilkinson (1999) records the names of 37 silversmiths officially listed as competition entrants. Surviving pieces by these artisans are especially prized by collectors. Earlier, H.L. Tilly (1902 and 1904) also described and illustrated several award-winning works attributed to known masters. There is stylistic and design evidence to suggest that some of these craftsmen produced both signed and unsigned versions of successful designs. Domestic offering bowls, for instance, typically remain unsigned regardless of their quality or origin.
This is not to suggest that all domestic silver work lacks contextual provenance. Roughly one-third of the pieces in the Noble Silver Collection bear inscriptions that provide some historical detail, such as the name and title of the owner, the date of completion, their township of residence, or a short dedicatory message. Among these, the completion date is the most significant, as it helps establish a technical and artistic timeline for the Silver Age and offers a comparative benchmark for undated works.
Silversmiths often added a whimsical mark to the underside of their creations—commonly an animal, mythical figure, or floral motif. These marks, while decorative, generally offer limited value in establishing provenance, as there are no surviving records linking most of them to specific makers or time periods. One exception is the ‘seated deer’ trademark (Fig. 3), attributed to the master silversmith Maung Shwe Yon and the firm he founded with his sons, Mg Shwe Yon Bros. Another recurring mark found on surviving pieces is a tiger motif, although the identity of the silversmith behind it remains unknown.
Fig. 3 (HALLMARK FROM MAUNG SHWE YON & SONS, RANGOON)
In the Noble Silver Collection, final determinations of authenticity and dating rely primarily on any inscribed contextual information, combined with the intangible asset of connoisseurship—gained through direct experience with a broad range of silverwork. This includes studying the forms, decorative styles, and technical execution, as well as exchanging insights with fellow collectors and gallery specialists focused on Burmese silver.
In the author’s view, the most reliable criteria for assessing both provenance and value; particularly in the absence of hallmarks or signed inscriptions; lie in the artistic and technical merits of the ornamentation. Central to this evaluation is the silversmith’s capacity to render human and animal anatomy with both precision and expression. Only the most skilled artisans could suggest emotion in a facial expression or convey a sense of thought or intention through posture and gesture. A practical maxim for collectors might be:
"Look first at the face and body details!"
While traditional Silver Age designs and motifs continue to be reproduced in parts of Burma; and possibly in Chiang Mai, Thailand; contemporary pieces are readily distinguishable by their noticeably lower technical and artistic standards.
No living silversmiths are known to possess the artistic and technical mastery required to replicate the finest works produced in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
(ARTISTIC RENDITION OF HUMAN FORM USING REPOUSSÉ & CHASING WORK)
Visual Narratives
The visual narratives; often referred to as storyboards (Fig. 4) that embellish silver offering bowls, betel boxes, cheroot and treasure boxes, storage jars, and drinking vessels are a hallmark of Burmese silver craftsmanship, particularly on medium to large sized pieces.
It was the desire to uncover the history, meaning, and moral teachings embedded within these narrative scenes that most deeply fuelled the author's passion for collecting and researching Burmese silver. Any serious study or publication on this art form would be incomplete without exploring the purpose and significance of these richly detailed visual narratives.
The two most frequent literary sources depicted in Burmese silver’s visual narratives are sacred Buddhist scriptures and the Ramayana, the Hindu epic. The Jataka narratives represent the most refined and classical form of decoration employed by Burmese master silversmiths.
The Jataka tales recount the many past lives of the Buddha before his final incarnation as Gautama. These stories are of historical and religious importance, as they serve to illustrate and transmit the core ethical principles of Buddhism.
Each tale typically highlights a particular virtue necessary for the attainment of nirvana; such as generosity, moral conduct, wisdom, energy, truthfulness, resolve, loving-kindness, and equanimity.
Silver artefacts adorned with Buddhist narratives served not only a decorative or didactic purpose but also held spiritual significance. Their creation and commission were considered acts of karmic merit for both the silversmith and the patron. In Buddhist belief, karmic merit is a metaphysical force that influences the quality of one’s present life and the conditions of future rebirths within the continuous cycle of life, death, and reincarnation (samsara).
The Jataka tales, frequently chosen as subjects for these works, are deeply embedded with moral teachings and ethical values, reinforcing the spiritual merit associated with both the making and ownership of such silverwork. Depicting these narratives demanded exceptional skill from the silversmith, who had to distil complex storylines into a limited number of representative scenes—capturing the essence and moral teachings without diminishing the narrative’s depth or clarity.
Regional Recognition and Comparison
In the late 19th and early 20th Centuries, Burmese silver art arguably enjoyed greater international recognition and acclaim than it does today. Writing in the Journal of Indian Art and Industry in 1902, J.H. Rivett-Carnac declared that “Burmese silver is deservedly the most celebrated and is the boldest and most meritorious in execution.” This high regard was reinforced by notable achievements at the 1903 Indian Art Exhibition in Delhi, held alongside the imperial Delhi Durbar celebrating Edward VII’s accession as Emperor of India. At this event, the Rangoon-based master silversmith Maung Yin Maung won First Prize and a Gold Medal for a table centrepiece, while Maung Po Kin received First Prize and a Silver Medal for the finest silver bowl.
The exhibition’s official catalogue, compiled by George Watt (1903), remarked that the best examples of Burmese silver on display “could have been disposed of several times over” had they been available for sale. Commenting in 1904, H.L. Tilly criticised the efforts of Indian silversmiths to imitate Burmese silver, stating unequivocally that “Burmese handicraftsmen do not reproduce, they create.”
Elsewhere in Asia, strong silverwork traditions also developed. In China, the export silver industry thrived from the late 18th to mid-20th centuries, although serious academic and collector interest in Chinese export silver only emerged in the 1970s, particularly in Europe and the United States.
Silverwork from Thailand and Malaysia tends to lack the dramatic high-relief narrative scenes that are a hallmark of Burmese silver, though some decorative motifs are shared across regional traditions.
In Indonesia, the town of Gede near Yogyakarta has been a silversmithing centre since the 16th century. This tradition experienced a revival under Dutch influence in the 1930s and continues today, with local artisans producing bracelets, pendants, bowls, rings, and other items using filigree, inlay, and casting techniques.
Cambodia and Laos also maintain silverwork practices, producing smaller artefacts distinguished by unique regional designs and decoration.
The Allure
Burmese silver work possesses a distinctive and compelling allure; one that is at once profound and enigmatic. The qualities that contribute to this fascination include the inherent beauty of silver as a medium, the harmonious proportions of the forms, the tactile experience of handling an offering bowl, the exceptional artistry of the decoration, the technical mastery of the silversmith, and the enduring wisdom conveyed through the narrative scenes.
Silver Offering Bowls
Silver offering bowls are the defining art form of the Burmese Silver Age. More than any other object, they embody the long tradition of Burmese silversmithing, which can be traced back to the Pyu civilisation of the early first millennium. The familiar form of these bowls is modelled on the alms bowl (thabeik) carried by Buddhist monks, used to receive daily food offerings from lay devotees. The origin of this practice is uncertain, but it is often associated with a pivotal moment in the life of Gautama Buddha, when he accepted a bowl of milk-rice from a young woman named Sujata. According to the scriptures, this event marked the end of his 49-day fast and his realisation that extreme asceticism was not the path to enlightenment. Since then, the bowl has become a lasting symbol of the Buddha, his teachings, and the Buddhist monastic order.
Even today, the alms bowl remains a powerful symbol of monastic life. The scriptures of Theravada Buddhism contain precise rules concerning its construction and use. Monks are prohibited from possessing bowls made from gold or silver, though they may handle silver bowls that belong to laypeople or the community. Crucially, there is no restriction on donating silver artefacts, including bowls, to temples or monasteries; a longstanding and widely observed practice of merit-making in Burma. The revered Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon houses a significant collection of such donated silver work.
The offering bowls in the Noble Silver Collection were not used by monks for collecting alms. Rather, they are ceremonial vessels, commissioned and owned primarily by lay Buddhists. Some bowls, especially those decorated with episodes from the Ramayana, were also likely purchased by Indian and Indo-Burmese Hindus, who formed a sizeable portion of the rising middle class in colonial Burma. For most Burmese Buddhists, however, the principal function of these silver bowls was to present offerings to the Buddha. Typical offerings included rice, food, water, flowers, and practical necessities for monks, given in accordance with daily rituals, lunar observances, and religious festivals. These acts of devotion were motivated by the wish to accrue karmic merit and improve one’s spiritual progress through the cycle of rebirth.
Offering items in a silver bowl was believed to be especially meritorious. The merit gained was thought to correspond not only to the offering itself but also to the value of the vessel in which it was made. As a result, silver bowls were sometimes lent to relatives and neighbours, allowing others to benefit from the increased merit associated with their use. This practice of sharing likely explains why many bowls were inscribed with the owner’s name on the underside—a statement of ownership and a practical measure to ensure their return.
Silver offering bowls adorned with Buddhist narratives also served important didactic and devotional functions within the home and the wider community. In an age before mass media, these objects conveyed and reinforced Buddhist teachings through visual storytelling. At the same time, silver bowls held secular significance; as decorative art and as indicators of wealth and status.
This dual religious and domestic role is fondly recalled in Burmese Family by Mi Mi Khaing, who recounts her early 20th Century childhood:
“We had silver bowls, ngway-balas, of all sizes, smaller ones for drinking, bigger for pouring the bath water, and enormous ones about twelve inches across for holding gifts to the monks on festival days. Sometimes my mother used these to hold taik-pan, the flowers of the Honolulu creeper, for the drawing room, but she always preferred a religious use for such noble and valuable objects.”
Fig. 5 (JATAKA TALES IN THE ANADA TEMPLE, OLD BAGAN. “THE TEMPLE OF UNENDING HAPPINESS”)
Jataka Tales
The Jataka tales are the most widely known source of Buddhist religious teaching in Southeast Asia. They are ‘birth stories’ told by Gautama Buddha himself and later recorded by his disciples, recounting his many past lives as he journeyed through the karmic cycle of life, death, and rebirth. In these earlier incarnations—as human, animal, spirit, or deity—the Buddha-to-be is known as a Bodhisattva, one who aspires to attain Buddhahood. Each Jataka tale illustrates a moral lesson, the workings of karma, or the ten ‘perfections’ (paramita) necessary for enlightenment.
From the late 19th to early 20th Centuries, Jataka narratives became the most popular thematic subject in Burmese silver work. Their enduring presence in the living tradition of Theravāda Buddhism continues today. The Jataka form a central part of the monastic curriculum, and their visual and oral retelling remains integral to Buddhist practice throughout Burma. Written in the style of allegorical parables, the tales help make the Buddha’s complex teachings more accessible to lay followers. They also serve to inspire the cultivation of key virtues such as compassion, patience, generosity, and wisdom, reinforcing the ethical and spiritual foundations of the faith.
Beyond their didactic role, the Jataka stories are rich works of imaginative literature. Many blend elements of drama, adventure, charm, and emotional depth, and have long been a source of artistic inspiration. Their episodes are commonly depicted on silver work, lacquerware, palm-leaf manuscripts, temple murals, and carved wood panels. Popular Jataka are also performed theatrically during religious and secular festivals, while modern adaptations appear in cartoons, children’s books, and films. Any artistic representation or public performance of a Jataka tale is considered an act of merit, as it helps spread the Buddha’s teachings and upholds the core values of Buddhism.
The sacred canon of Theravada Buddhism is composed in Pali, an ancient Indian language, and includes a collection of 547 Jataka tales. These represent the oldest and largest corpus of stories in the world that revolve around a single central figure; the Bodhisattva who would become the historical Buddha. Believed to date back to the 5th century BCE, the Jataka were originally preserved through oral transmission. Some verses may even incorporate elements from older, pre-Buddhist sources.
In the earliest classification of Theravada scriptures, the Jataka formed the seventh ‘limb’ of the ninefold division. Later, within the structure of the Tripiṭaka (the ‘Three Baskets’ of the Pali Canon), the Jataka were placed in the Khuddaka Nikāya, the tenth section of the fifth division of the Sutta Piṭaka.
Each Jataka tale typically follows a four-part structure:
A mnemonic device to help monks recall the opening lines;
A present-day narrative to provide context;
The past-life story of the Bodhisattva, often in verse and accompanied by commentary;
A closing identification of the past-life characters in relation to their present counterparts, confirming the role played by the Bodhisattva.
The tales are arranged by increasing complexity, beginning with the shortest; a single-verse narrative; and progressing to longer, more elaborate compositions. Through their compelling storytelling and moral clarity, the Jataka tales continue to animate Buddhist art and belief across generations.
Many of the Jataka tales are set in the Ganges river basin of northern India, with numerous episodes unfolding in or around the ancient city of Benares, now known as Varanasi. This region, central to early Buddhism, forms the geographical backdrop for much of the Jataka storytelling tradition.
The earliest known depictions of these narratives in art appear as stone reliefs and murals at Ajanta, Bharhut, and Sanchi in central and northern India, dating to approximately the 1st century BCE. By the 2nd century CE, Jataka scenes were also being portrayed on Gandharan stupas in the Peshawar region of present-day northern Pakistan and Afghanistan, reflecting the wide geographic spread of Buddhist iconography.
One of the most remarkable visual expressions of the Jataka tradition is found in Burma itself, at the Ananda Temple in Bagan. There, 12th-century glazed terracotta plaques on the roof terraces illustrate a single scene from each of the 547 Jataka tales (Fig. 5), underscoring the comprehensive and enduring role these narratives play in Burmese Buddhism.
The influence of the Jataka tradition extended into political life as well. King Mindon (r. 1853–78), the penultimate monarch of Burma, is known to have urged his ministers to model their behaviour on the virtuous figures described in the Jataka, drawing on these moral exemplars to guide courtly and civic conduct.
Fig. 6 (ANTIQUE 20thC BURMESE REPOUSSÉ SOLID SILVER "MAHANIPATA JATAKA" BOWL c.1915)
Mahanipata Jataka
The final ten birth stories of the Bodhisattva are collectively known as the Mahanipata Jataka. These ten narratives recount how the future Buddha perfected the ten essential moral virtues (paramita) required for enlightenment and the fulfilment of his ultimate goal; becoming the Buddha. In the standard Theravāda ordering of the Jataka, they are numbered 538 to 547. Each story is allegorical, with the Bodhisattva assuming various roles; prince, sage, naga, or commoner; through which he demonstrates a particular virtue.
Jataka No.
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
Name
Temiya (Temiya Jataka)
Mahajanaka
Sama
Nimi
Mahosadha
Bhuridatta
Candakumara
Narada
Vidhura-Pandita
Vessantara
Moral Perfection (Pāramitā)
Renunciation (nekkhamma)
Energy (viriya)
Loving-kindness (mettā)
Resolution (adhiṭṭhāna)
Wisdom (paññā)
Morality (sīla)
Patience (khanti)
Truthfulness (sacca)
Equanimity (upekkhā)
Generosity (dāna)
These ten stories are depicted more frequently on Burmese silver than any other group of Jataka. The classic form of decoration on ceremonial offering bowls involves a sequence of scenes, often up to ten; drawn from a single Jataka. These are arranged in chronological order to create a narrative frieze, either summarising the story or focusing on a particular section.
One rare example in the Noble Silver Collection; offering bowl (Fig. 6) features one scene from each of the ten Mahanipata Jataka. This uncommon decorative scheme presents a powerful visual summary of the ten key Buddhist virtues and serves as a comprehensive moral reminder to the owner. Another bowl, (Fig. 6), presents similar iconography. In both cases, each scene is labelled with the Jataka title in Burmese script on a band beneath the image. Vertical dividers; trees, architectural details, or shrubs separate each narrative, while each panel is crowned with a scalloped cornice of polished silver fillets. A rosette of acanthus leaves fills the arch between adjoining cornices, giving a rhythmic unity to the storyboard.
Short interpretations accompany each Jataka panel, while the next section of the catalogue offers more complete readings of the most popular narratives. These longer accounts explore silver bowls decorated with detailed, chronological storyboards from a single Mahanipata Jataka; the most common format in Burmese silverwork.
Among the Mahanipata, five narratives recur most frequently in the Noble Silver Collection: Sama, Mahajanaka, Bhuridatta, Vidhura-Pandita, and Vessantara. However, no two artefacts feature identical scenes, suggesting that silversmiths exercised considerable interpretive freedom when selecting and composing episodes.
Each illustrated scene contributes visual nuance and a deeper understanding of the story’s ethical message.
Temiya Jataka (Jataka 538) – Renunciation
The Temiya Jataka embodies the virtue of nekkhamma; renunciation. Temiya, the crown prince and Bodhisattva, is born into the royal household of King Kasiraja of Benares. As a child, he witnesses the king making grave life-and-death decisions, prompting the realisation that worldly power and justice are incompatible with the spiritual path.
Determined to avoid the throne, Temiya pretends to be mute, deaf, and paralysed, hoping to disqualify himself from royal succession. Despite repeated efforts by his father to restore or provoke him into normal behaviour, Temiya remains steadfast. Eventually, at the age of sixteen, the exasperated king orders his execution.
At the final moment, Temiya reveals his true nature, uses his Bodhisattva powers to escape, and flees into the forest. He renounces royal life and becomes an ascetic, dedicating himself to the search for enlightenment. His story is a powerful allegory for the Buddhist rejection of worldly ambition in favour of spiritual liberation.
Mahajanaka Jataka (Jataka 539) – Energy and Effort
The Mahajanaka Jataka illustrates the Buddhist virtue of viriya; vigour, perseverance, and relentless effort. It recounts the life of Prince Mahajanaka, who endures great hardship to reclaim his rightful throne in the kingdom of Mithilā.
Following the death of his father, the king, the young prince undertakes a perilous sea voyage in search of his lost inheritance. During the journey his ship is wrecked, and he alone survives, rescued by the celestial goddess Manimekhalā, who carries him through the sky and places him in a mango grove near Mithila.
In (Fig. 7), Mahajanaka is shown seated on a ceremonial rock within this grove. He is surrounded by four court ministers who, upon discovering the auspicious marks of royalty on the soles of his feet, proclaim him the rightful king. Mahajanaka later marries a princess and rules Mithilā with wisdom and fairness.
Yet the story does not end in worldly triumph. In his later years, Mahajanaka comes to see that all material possessions are impermanent and, ultimately, a source of suffering. In a final act of spiritual resolve, he renounces his throne and adopts the life of an ascetic, exemplifying the inner strength required to walk the path to liberation.
Sama Jataka (Jataka 540) – Loving-Kindness
The Sama Jataka is a profound allegory of metta; loving-kindness, compassion, and filial devotion. It tells the story of Sama, a miraculous child born to two blind ascetics living in the seclusion of a forest.
After his parents are blinded by a venomous snake, Sama dedicates his life to their care. He fetches water, gathers food, and attends to their needs with joy and tenderness. Sama’s gentle nature is recognised by the forest animals, especially deer, who assist him by carrying heavy water jars. Their trust in him reflects his role as a Bodhisattva, radiating kindness to all beings.
A pivotal moment is captured in (Fig. 8), where Sama lies wounded on a forest rock, a poisoned arrow embedded in his side. Standing behind him are two deer, visibly distressed. Beside him is King Piliyakka of Benares, the hunter who, mistaking Sama for a forest spirit, has just shot him.
Despite his suffering, Sama responds to the king not with blame, but with a gentle reproach that underscores his spiritual depth:
“Thou canst not take my flesh for food, thou canst not turn to use my skin. Why couldst thou think me worth thine aim; what was the gain thou thought’st to win?”
Sama’s words embody the principle of metta in action; offering kindness even in the face of injury, and showing compassion toward the very one who caused him harm.
Nimi Jātaka (Jataka 541) – Resolution and Determination
The Nimi Jataka conveys the Buddhist virtue of adhiṭṭhana, firm resolve and unwavering determination in pursuit of spiritual truth. The central figure, Prince Nimi; also called Prince Hoop in reference to the rim of a chariot wheel, was recognised by court soothsayers as a Bodhisattva destined to complete the endless cycle of saṃsara (birth, death and rebirth) and attain Buddhahood.
Nimi became a model ruler, governing his kingdom with justice and virtue. Yet he remained unsettled by a single spiritual question: Was it more meritorious to live a holy life as an ascetic, or to remain in the world and give alms faithfully? The deity Sakka, ruler of the Tāvatiṃsa heaven, answered: The holy life is more fruitful.
Inspired by Nimi’s piety, the gods of heaven urged Sakka to bring the king to the celestial realm so that he might share his wisdom. Sakka agreed and dispatched a divine chariot to fetch Nimi. During the journey, Nimi was given a vision of the torments of hell and the bliss of heaven. After arriving in Tavatimsa, he remained among the gods for seven days, engaged in discourse on morality and virtue.
In Fig. 9, Nimi is depicted seated on a royal throne in the heavens, surrounded by three gods kneeling in reverence. Their bowed heads signify the respect accorded to the Bodhisattva’s insight and spiritual stature.
Upon returning to earth, Nimi gathered his people and recounted what he had seen: the grim suffering of hellish realms and the sublime joy of heavenly existence. He urged them to practise generosity and virtue, saying:
“Give alms and do good, for by such deeds you may be reborn in that blessed place.”
Years later, having ruled with wisdom and compassion, Nimi discovered a single white hair upon his head. Recognising this as a sign of impermanence, he relinquished his throne and embraced the ascetic path. When his mortal life ended, he was reborn in Brahmā’s heaven, thus completing the wheel of life.
The tale of Nimi is an allegory for inner conviction and clarity of purpose; qualities essential for anyone seeking liberation from the cycle of rebirth.
Mahasodha Jataka (Jataka 542) – Wisdom and Insight
The Mahasodha Jataka is one of the longest and most richly layered tales in the Jataka canon. It serves as an allegorical celebration of panna; wisdom, discernment, and intellectual clarity. Mahasodha, the central figure, is a Bodhisattva gifted with extraordinary intellect, serving as chief minister and counsellor to King Vedeha of Mithilā.
The story charts Mahasodha’s life from birth to his eventual rise as the kingdom’s sage and strategic mastermind. Not only was he renowned for his architectural and engineering feats, but he was also a key figure in defending Mithilā from invasion. When King Culani of a rival realm rallied 101 Indian princes under the leadership of the malevolent sage Kevatta, it was Mahasodha who safeguarded Mithilā through brilliant military strategy, including the construction of hidden fortresses and an underground escape tunnel.
Among the narrative’s many dramatic turns are the daring abduction of Culani’s daughter, complex schemes involving rival sages, and ultimately, a political reconciliation between the two kings.
(Fig. 10) depicts one of the most iconic moments in the Jataka; the Battle of the Law. After his army's failure to capture Mithila, Kevatta proposes to King Culani a contest of sages in place of open warfare. His plan is cunning:
“Sire, no army shall fight. Let the sages of both kings meet in a single place. Whichever one salutes the other shall be declared defeated. I am older, and he is younger, surely he will bow to me, and we will triumph.”
But Mahasodha, ever perceptive, saw through the trick. When the two sages met, he cleverly offered Kevatta a dazzling gemstone, only to drop it before him. Consumed by greed, Kevatta stooped to retrieve it, bowing at Mahasodha’s feet in the process. In doing so, he unwittingly performed an act of submission, thus losing the contest.
In the illustration, Mahasodha is shown pressing down on Kevatta’s head to emphasise his humiliation, while exclaiming with feigned humility:
“Rise, teacher, rise. I am but a youth, young enough to be your grandson. Do not bow before me!”
Kevatta, outwitted and disgraced, is defeated without force of arms. Two of Culani’s princes, recognising the loss, are shown retreating on the right side of the composition.
This episode exemplifies the supreme value of wit over brute strength and the Buddhist conviction that true power lies in inner clarity and virtuous cunning. Mahasodha's victory is one of intellect, morality, and graceful humility.
Bhuridatta Jataka (Jataka 543) – Good Conduct and Restraint
The Bhuridatta Jataka is a rich and layered tale that communicates the Buddhist virtues of sila; ethical conduct, restraint, and forbearance. Set across two intersecting worlds; the subterranean realm of the nagas and the human kingdom of Benares; it follows the ordeals of Bhuridatta, a Bodhisattva born of a human princess and Dhatarattha, King of the Nagas.
Nagas are semi-divine serpent beings in Buddhist cosmology, renowned for their supernatural abilities, wisdom, and capacity to assume human form. Bhuridatta’s birth is the outcome of a curious interspecies union, engineered through the deception of a talking tortoise named Cittacula, whose meddling sets the story in motion.
Renouncing the comforts of palace life, Bhuridatta vows to observe the uposatha, committing himself to a life of spiritual discipline and meditation atop a sacred ant-hill. But his vow is tested when he is captured and enslaved by a greedy and manipulative brahmin named Alambayana. The brahmin purchases Bhuridatta in exchange for a precious naga gemstone and forces him to perform tricks and dances throughout the kingdom of Benares, using him to gain wealth and acclaim.
Fig. 11 portrays a pivotal moment near the end of the narrative, Bhuridatta, depicted in his full serpent form, confronts Alambayana. Behind the brahmin sits a small, tightly coiled basket, ornate and confining, the humiliating vessel in which Bhuridatta has been imprisoned. In the centre of the composition, the King of Benares watches the spectacle from a raised platform. The two figures flanking him are likely Sudassana and Accimukhi, Bhuridatta’s brother and sister, who threatened to devastate Benares should the king not intervene and release their brother.
Despite his torment and public humiliation, Bhuridatta never forsakes his vow of virtuous restraint. He endures hardship without anger, cruelty, or revenge; a striking embodiment of Buddhist morality in practice.
The Jataka concludes with Bhuridatta’s release and return to the naga realm. His dignity, compassion, and self-control remain unbroken, marking him as an exemplar of sila; moral purity in the face of injustice and suffering.
Canda-Kumara Jataka (Jataka 544) – Patience and Forbearance
The Canda-Kumara Jataka extols the Buddhist virtues of khanti; patience, endurance, and forbearance in the face of cruelty and injustice. Prince Canda, a Bodhisattva, is portrayed as the embodiment of these qualities, even when threatened by the malice of his own father.
The story unfolds in the ancient kingdom of Pupphavati, near Benares. King Ekaraja, a vain and impulsive ruler, dreams of the celestial heaven of the Thirty-three Gods; a realm of radiant beauty, golden streets, sacred lakes and joyful deities. Obsessed with gaining entry into this divine realm, he consults his chief adviser, the wicked brahmin Khandahala. Seeing an opportunity to destroy his rival, Khandahala offers the king a barbaric path to heaven: he must perform a great sacrificial rite by killing four of his own sons, four queens, four merchant princes, and four royal animals.
Prince Canda, aware of the brahmin’s intent, predictably offers to sacrifice himself in place of the others. But King Ekarāja, blinded by his ambition, dismisses all pleas and proclaims to his subjects:
“By sacrificing my sons and daughters and wives I shall ascend to the world of the gods.”
In Fig. 12, the artist captures a charged scene of royal defiance. Two princes and two princesses kneel before King Ekaraja, appealing for clemency. The king sits rigidly on his throne, grasping a long sword in a menacing pose, its upraised blade a symbol of his obstinate intent to carry out the sacrifice.
Despite the cries of his family, King Ekaraja remains unmoved. It is only the anguished wailing of Prince Canda’s queen that reaches the heavens and rouses Sakka, ruler of the gods. Sakka intervenes by unleashing a mighty windstorm that scatters the preparations for the sacrifice. The people, enraged by Khandahala’s deceit, seize him and beat him to death. King Ekaraja is also nearly killed, but Sakka intervenes once more, sparing his life and decreeing exile as punishment.
With the tyrant banished, all the captives are freed, and Prince Canda is anointed as the new king. His reign ushers in a time of prosperity and joy. The Jataka concludes:
“A new and happy reign of plenty, peace and halcyon days began throughout the kingdom.”
The tale’s enduring message lies in Prince Canda’s unwavering composure, moral integrity, and refusal to act in anger, even when wronged. His quiet strength exemplifies the Buddhist path of serene endurance and ethical leadership.
Narada Jataka (also known as Mahanaradakassapa Jataka, Jataka 545) – Equanimity and Moral Clarity
The Narada Jataka is an allegorical tale that explores the Buddhist virtue of upekkha; equanimity. It portrays the steady mind that remains balanced amidst confusion, temptation, and philosophical error. This Jataka is set in the kingdom of Videha and centres on the intervention of the Bodhisattva in the form of a celestial sage.
Narada, a Great Brahma and Bodhisattva dwelling in the heavens, descends to earth in the guise of an ascetic. His purpose is to redeem King Angati, who has strayed from righteousness under the influence of a corrupt teacher. The false ascetic has led the king to reject the law of karma, deny the value of virtue, and dismiss belief in an afterlife. These dangerous doctrines threaten to destabilise not only the king’s soul but the moral order of his entire realm.
Fig. 13 depicts the decisive moment of the Jataka. Narada stands with composed authority before King Angati, the princess Ruja, and five royal consorts. Though disguised as a humble ascetic, Narada is marked by the divine; his symbolic headdress and unassuming robes quietly convey his dual identity as both god and sage. His alms bowl, slung across his chest, reaffirms his dedication to the renunciate life.
King Angati kneels in submission, his head bowed and hands pressed together in a gesture of reverence. His daughter and queens observe in silence. Through reasoned argument and moral clarity, Narada dismantles the king’s nihilistic beliefs and reorients him towards the ethical path.
The Pāli Canon records Narada’s teaching with solemn authority:
“Having thus instructed him in the Law and taken away his false doctrines, and established him in the moral precepts, he commanded him henceforth to eschew evil friends and to follow virtuous friends and to take heed how he walked.”
The message of the Narada Jataka is clear: even rulers, powerful and confident in their own convictions, must remain vigilant against moral delusion. True wisdom comes not from blind faith in teachers, but from the discernment of wholesome truths. Through equanimity and clear moral vision, the Bodhisattva restores balance to both king and kingdom.
Vidhura-Pandita Jataka (Jataka 546) – Truthfulness
The Vidhura-Pandita Jataka is a richly woven tale that champions the Buddhist virtue of sacca; truthfulness. Among the most elaborate narratives in the Jataka collection, it unfolds across the celestial, terrestrial, and subterranean realms, bringing together gods, demons, and mortals in a test of moral strength and verbal integrity.
At the heart of the story is Vidhura-Pandita, a Bodhisattva who serves as the chief minister to King Dhananjaya of Indapatta. Wise, just, and eloquent, Vidhura is admired for his unwavering dedication to truth and his profound spiritual insight. The plot is set in motion when a naga queen in the underworld desires to possess the “heart of Vidhura,” believing it will bring her spiritual merit. Her suitor, Punnaka, a fierce yakka general, volunteers to retrieve it as a token of his devotion.
Punnaka wins Vidhura in a rigged game of dice with the king and abducts him, intending to kill him atop Black Mountain. However, all of Punnaka’s violent efforts fail, and he is ultimately bested not by force but by Vidhura’s serenity, truthfulness, and moral reasoning.
Fig. 14 (4.26) captures this dramatic climax. Punnaka, wearing a fearsome demon mask, flings Vidhura to the rocky ground of Black Mountain. His enchanted horse, capable of supernatural feats, appears at the edge of the scene, airborne and alert. Vidhura-Pandita lies supine but composed, still adorned in the modest robes and headdress of a royal sage.
To the right, a figure steadies Vidhura, possibly a guardian deity or a symbolic embodiment of King Dhananjaya, expressing remorse at the loss of his counsellor. This part of the narrative is ambiguous, lending the illustration a mystical tension between violence and rescue, destruction and redemption.
The moral at the centre of the Vidhura-Pandita Jātaka is clear and potent:
Truth, spoken with calm resolve and wisdom, can prevail even in the face of brute force and malevolent will.
Vidhura’s life is spared, Punnaka is humbled, and the naga princess receives not the sage’s physical heart but the far greater gift of his virtuous counsel. In this, the Jataka affirms that truth is not just a virtue, it is a force more powerful than magic, violence, or deception.
Vessantara Jataka (Jataka 547) – The Perfection of Generosity
The Vessantara Jataka is the final and most expansive narrative in the Jataka canon. It recounts the final earthly life of the Bodhisattva before his rebirth as the historical Buddha, and it centres on the perfection of dana; generosity. This virtue lies at the very heart of Buddhist ethical practice and is considered the most effective means of accruing karmic merit.
Prince Vessantara, the protagonist, is renowned for his unwavering commitment to giving. From a young age, he offers gifts without hesitation, regardless of their value or personal cost. The story follows his voluntary exile into the forest, accompanied by his devoted wife Maddi and their two children. It is during this forest retreat that he performs his most profound act of renunciation.
(Fig 15) captures this deeply emotive moment. Vessantara is shown pouring water over the open hands of the brahmin Jujaka; an ancient ritual that seals the formal transfer of a gift. His children stand beside him, their expressions filled with fear and reluctance as they realise they are to be taken away. Jujaka, elderly and ungainly, appears both triumphant and grotesque. He had demanded the children as servants, coerced by his much younger wife who desired help around the household.
This scene represents the ultimate test of Vessantara’s generosity. He does not falter, despite his heartbreak. The act is not merely symbolic but sacrificial; offering what is dearest to him in the belief that true charity requires giving without attachment.
The Vessantara Jataka has long held an exceptional place in the artistic, ritual and literary traditions of Southeast Asia. Its moral lesson is profound:
To achieve spiritual liberation, one must surrender not only material wealth but also the emotional bonds that tether the self to desire.
Through this final and most difficult renunciation, Vessantara completes his path toward enlightenment. The story ends with reunion and restoration; his children are returned, his virtue is celebrated, and his place as the next Buddha is assured. Yet it is this moment of loss, captured in the offering to Jujaka, that resonates most strongly in both art and the moral imagination of Buddhist tradition.
Fig. 15 (PRINCE VESSANTARA GIFTS HIS TWO CHILDREN TO JUJAKA)
The Noble Silver Collection offers a rare and deeply illuminating window into the artistic, religious, and cultural world of Burmese silver work during its greatest period of creativity. From the masterfully crafted offering bowls to narrative-rich betel boxes and ceremonial vessels, each piece reveals the spiritual values and technical mastery of silversmiths working within a unique visual tradition shaped by Buddhism, Hindu epics, and courtly patronage. What sets Burmese silver apart; beyond its intricacy and vitality; is the depth of meaning encoded in its decoration: visual storyboards drawn from the Jataka tales that were intended not only to adorn, but to teach, inspire, and accrue merit.
Presented here with contextual interpretation, iconographic analysis, and historical insight, the collection reflects a devotion to both scholarship and preservation. In the absence of formal hallmarks or extensive documentation, the silversmith’s anonymous genius lives on through the expressive detail of their work; faces, gestures, postures, the whole narrative scene; each rendered with reverence and care. It is hoped that this blog brings renewed attention to one of Asia’s most compelling silver traditions and affirms the significance of the Burmese artistic legacy.