Rescuing nomadic art from the edge

Alzugul, a mother of two from a village in Shule county on the outskirts of Kashgar, Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, used to divide her days between household chores and the school run. Six months ago, she had never held a carving knife.

Today, she spends eight hours a day at a wooden workbench, cutting and stamping intricate patterns into cowhide — almond-shaped motifs once used to decorate horse saddles and geometric designs passed down through generations. She now completes six or seven bags each month.

"I didn't know leather could be turned into so many things," she says.

In June, she earned 2,000 yuan ($295) — a modest sum by urban standards, but a transformative one for a rural woman who had been a full-time homemaker. "When I sell my products, it makes me happy," she says.

Behind that transformation is Meng Lulu, a designer from the regional capital of Urumqi. As a child, the woman, now in her 30s, often traveled with her father from Kazak and Mongolian pastoral regions to Uygur farming villages. When his work kept him away for long periods, he would leave young Meng with local herder families. She grew up watching them make saddles, whips, leather buckets and boots.

"I was fascinated by the intricate patterns they carved. Every piece of leather has its own life and character," she recalls.

But it was during university, where she studied graphic and product design, that those childhood memories took on new meaning. As she explored the history of Chinese and world art, she realized many iconic decorative motifs could be traced to excavated artifacts and ancient stone carvings.

"That gave me an idea. I wanted to take those patterns and techniques and put them into products people could use today," she says.

After graduation, she worked for a newspaper and its advertising company, where she encountered international exhibitions. Meng noticed leather carving had established systems and recognition across Europe and North America. Xinjiang's own heritage, despite archaeological evidence dating back over 3,000 years, was categorized as little more than "leather tool and harness making".

Conversations with museum researchers and art scholars confirmed the craft's ancient lineage. In 2012, she left her job and, a year later, opened her own studio.