Copper Tibetan Sipaho Motif Three-hole Bead

Zhibazha is the Tibetan name. In China proper some translate it as taotie, but the two have different origins: the Chinese taotie comes out of Shang and Zhou bronzes, while the Tibetan zhibazha runs along another line. They look alike; the bloodline is not the same. Calling them by one name is convenient but not accurate. The two traditions borrowed shapes from each other in later craft, but the root is still two. Ask when you buy whether a piece is Tibetan or Chinese in style; if the seller is vague, it is probably a bit of both.

Its form is a head with no body: two horns curling up, fangs outside the mouth, and a garland held in the jaws. The garland is the key detail. It is not about eating; it is holding a treasure and not letting go, which turns the meaning the other way. Another legend has it so hungry that it ate its own body and was left with only a face, hence a head and no body. The garland in the mouth is continuous; break one link and the whole strand comes apart, so check it on receipt.

In Tibet the zhibazha appears on door lintels, column capitals, thangka borders and the front edge of Dharma seats — always on a boundary, doing the work of separating inside from outside. In those places it isn't frightening; it is keeping the door. Understand that and the fierce face settles. The pair on a lintel looks straight out past the door, and set that high, ferocity becomes guarding.

Made as a three-hole bead, it has three holes: one through horizontally, two going down to left and right. The horizontal hole takes the main cord; the two vertical ones take the pendant and tassel below. Drill them slightly off and the stringing goes crooked, and this is work that cannot be redone — you have to judge it when you choose. The horizontal hole must sit on the center line of the two verticals, which a template holds during drilling. The holes have to lie on one plane or the stringing will twist.

Copper goes best with Tibetan beads; it holds its own with south red agate, amber and old glass. New copper is bright, and after a while it darkens, which brings it closer to the feel of an old piece. Some people sand it for shine; the pattern goes shallow, and that is a poor bargain. That darkness is decades of hand sweat and cannot be hurried. Force it with sulphur water and the black looks fake; better to wait. Copper dislikes ammonia, and don't use a silver cloth either — one wipe and it is streaked.