On July 19, 2009, David Zahirpour

gave a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning program at The Textile Museum, here in Washington, D.C., on the subject of “Persian ‘City’ Rugs, Old and New.”

He did not define “city rug” rigorously, but drew on the understandings in the widespread use of this designation, both in the market and in the literature.

Jon Thompson provides an example of the latter in the organization of his basic book, “Oriental Carpets.”  Thompson offered a four-part typology for distinguishing oriental rugs and carpets.

1. Tribal weavings

2. Products of cottage industries

3. Carpets manufactured in town or city workshops

4. Court carpets.

David was concerned with the rugs described in item 3 above.

Thompson gives an archetypal example of a “city rug”

and his caption for it provides additional, concrete, defining details.

He says, “Workshop rugs were produced for commerce by an organized team of specialists.  Artists design the patterns, dyers match the colours, and weavers work from detailed cartoons which make possible the precise execution of large curvilinear designs…”

David provided a handout that listed the Persian cities (or areas) within which most “city rugs” have traditionally been woven.

They are:

Ishfahan, Sarouk, Kashan, Tabriz, Meshed, Kirman and Bijar

He also listed some noteworthy workshops.

In Kashan: Mohtashem, Dabir, Shad Sar,

In Tabriz: Hajji Jalili

In Meshed: Amogli

In Ishafahan: Seirafian, Sarraf Mamoury

In Sarouk: Mehajeran, Ferahan

In Kerman: Ravar (really a village)

Because rugs from an identifiable workshop are usually seen to be more valuable than those for which only a “city” designation can be given, a claim that a given rug was woven in a particular workshop is sometimes looked on with suspicion.  Some argue that many workshop designations are marketing ploys, like the use of “Serapi” to signal a high-quality Heriz.

As I prepared this virtual version of this “rug morning,” I looked at a lot of auction catalogs for the years 1975 to about 1995 and did find that a great many Kashans offered were claimed to have been woven in the Mohtashem workshop and that many Tabriz’ sellers tried to hang onto a possible workshop origin with the words “possibly Hajji Jalili.”

Still others say that many workshop attributions are based on real indicators.  For example, it is claimed that there are real, concrete indicators on which a correct “Mohtashem” attribution can be based.  And other diagnotic features are claimed for other particular workshops as well.

David and I talked after about the problem of recognizing accurately whether a given rug was, in fact, woven by a particular workshop.

He is of the view that it is dangerous to cite particular indicators, since they may be open to manipulation.  He says that there are particular rugs that were identifiably woven in particular workshops, but that the recognitions are not of sort that can be put readily into words.  They are more on the order of the answer to the question “How do you recognize your children?”

This may well be correct, but it puts the buyer at a distinct disadvantage, if all of the skills needed to recognize whether a given rug was woven in a particular workshop, reside only in the experience of dealers.  It has the additional disadvantage of not making the recognitions used open to scrutiny and critique.  It is a kind of elitism.   At a minimum it suggests that, if one undertakes to buy a rug that was in fact woven in a particular workshop, one needs to engage one’s own, independent expert resource on the workshop of interest.

Different subject: It is interesting to note what rugs are usually left out of most listings of Persian “city” rugs.

First, Heriz’ are not included, even those seen remarkable enough to earn the praise of the “Serapi” designation.  This omission might be justified on the basis of the proud practice of many Heriz weavers of using a guiding pattern that is a simple, often a two or three-color, picture or printed handkerchief, rather than a knot-by-knot digital cartoon.

And Heriz’ tend to move toward the rectilinear even when the pattern is curvilinear.

But look at what sometimes results.

This Heriz is in silk and is estimated to have been woven in the late 19th century.

Rugs from south Persia, other than Kermans, are also usually excluded from the “city” rug category.  To some extent this may be the result of the “tribal” names many of them carry, but here are two southwest Persian examples that show what these rugs can be as well.

The first is the Khamseh below.

This piece puts the lie to the seeming occasional impression in the literature that Khamseh rugs are on the cruder side.  This piece is dated 1865.

A second southwest Persian example is the classic design below.

Opie explicitly designates this a “Qashqa’i workshop rug,”  demonstrating that not all observers see a tribal designation as disabling for inclusion in the “workshop” category.

“Sennehs” are not usually seen as “city” rugs, although they can exhibit great precision and sophistication.   But David includes the nearby “Bijars” in his “city” listing.

So while the designations of “city” and “workshop” rugs operate pretty well to pick out some particular types for focus, there seems, sometimes, some inconsistency in the standards used to define these groups of rugs.

In his “Oriental Rug Lexicon,” Peter Stone provides these additional observations about “workshop” rugs.

“…Workshop rugs have been faulted because of their lack of design spontaneity.  Some designs, however, have achieved great artistic merit.  Many of these rugs are woven of the finest materials according to the highest technical standards…”

Stone then goes on with some thoughts that bear on the “old-new” aspect of David’s topic.

He says , “The modern workshop or factory system of rug production began in Persia in the late nineteenth century.  Most contemporary oriental rugs are woven through this system…”

My sense is that, in David’s session, his “old” city rugs  likely include those woven, either in the 19th century, or in the 20th until about 1930.  “New” city rugs are younger than that, might be quite contemporary, and, nowadays, include Persian designs woven in other countries.

We move now to the rugs that David had brought.  David walked us through the geographic types, supplementing that, on occasion, with workshop examples he also had.

We will follow David’s lead here, but it would have been very difficult to bring into this session good examples of all of the types (particularly since many of them would be room-size or even larger).

And one of the advantages of a virtual presentation is that we can supplement examples, where we need them, without having to lift, carry, put up, take down and carry again, at all.

So we are going to show David’s examples of his categories, but will supplement them, where needed, with images of pieces that were not in the room on July 19, 2009.

As the distinctions in his handout suggest, David prepared  carefully.

And, even as he is ready to speak, considers, closely, what he wants to say.

David had arrayed the pieces he had brought on the front board.

I am not treating the various types and workshops here in precisely the same sequence David did in his session.  Instead I will follow a sequence of types that came back to me as David confirmed afterward the descriptions of the pieces he had brought in.

The first “city” on this latter listing was “Tabriz.”  In some senses this is very appropriate, since Tabriz merchants were hugely influential in establishing rug weaving workshops in many parts of Iran.

Tabriz, most will know, is located in Iran’s far northwest.

We start with two examples of older Tabriz rugs.

Tabriz rugs seem to be quite varied in both design and color palette.

Almost anything is possible.

The example above was woven in 1925 and, so, is just inside the older group we described above.

But Tabriz rugs are fairly easy to identify by structure, since they have symmetric knots tied with hooks, rather than by hand, and warps that are deeply depressed.

The use of hooks has at least two effects.

First, jufti knots, a problem in many areas, cannot be tied with a hook and so are not a problem in Tabriz rugs.

Second, the use of the hook gives the back a very uniform appearance, almost like something machine-made.  Tabriz rugs are recognizable on the basis of type of knot and what Neff and Maggs call “weave pattern.” After one has seen a few, a quick glance at the back is often sufficient to recognize a Tabriz.

Some Tabriz rugs were woven with silk pile.  Here is an example with a very unusual design.  Cross-panels occur in pieces like Turkomen engsis and in some Anatolian types, like Ghiordes niche designs, but are rare in Persian rugs.

Rugs are still being woven in Tabriz.  Here is a contemporary example.

Tabriz rugs are sometimes woven with pile that is wool in some areas and silk in others.  David had a new example in the room.

Since silk stands abrasion less well than wool, as such a rug wears, an attractive “embossed” effect appears.

One Tabriz workshop, Hajji Jalili, is frequently cited or suggested.

Here are some examples the labeling of which says “possibly Hajji Jalili.”

The following one seems very large.

A third Hajji Jalili “possible” is the rug below.

Here, below, is one rug attributed to the Hajji Jalili workshop without equivocation.

Bijar is south of Tabriz, but still quite far north in the Persian northwest and we treat its rugs next.

Despite the fact that Bijar weavers are acknowledged to have woven some of the most impressive rugs known, the inclusion of this city and area in a listing of makers of “city” rugs might strike some as a departure.  Bijar designs often seem less formal and border corners are not usually resolved, this latter often seen as evidence that a cartoon was not followed closely.

Nevertheless, David included them in his listing

(he was, in fact, pressed by someone in the audience about whether he saw resolved corners as a defining characteristic of a “city” rug and he said not).

I have not included some of the readily available “Garrus” Bijars with their dramatic strapwork.  (The sort of thing that John Collins showed in his famous ORR article on Bijars.)  But I have chosen a couple of examples that seem to me both typical and attractive.

Here, for example, is a rather typical Bijar medallion design.

The piece above is attributed to the 19th century.

And here is one with a field of repeating devices, nested between one another, in alternate rows.

Bijar weaving often projects a Kurdish-like flair for color usage (for me, the use of blue in the rug above is inspired), although many say the best of Bijar weaving is, in fact, done by Afshars.

David had brought a new Bijar of the sort that you will encounter frequently, nowadays, if you go looking for one.

A quality item, woven in Iran, with a dense “herati” design and a traditional Bijar structure, such a rug is still difficult to beat for wear.  A few Persian producers of Bijars have begun, again, to use natural dyes.  The colors of these natural-dye, Bijar pieces, seem a little bright at first, but are jewel-like.

Rugs with a Bijar structure and with similar “herati” designs are woven in great numbers in India and Pakistan.

Sarouk rugs are also woven in Iran’s northwest and that is the group we treat next.

Rugs designated “Sarouks” are woven in a variety of villages in Arak.   The literature seems to suggest a kind of sequence of related, but distinctive types in this Arak area.  The first is “Ferahan.”  A second is “Sarouk.”  A third is “Ferahan Sarouk,” a term that seems, as one reads its defining components, more a sub-group of “Ferahans,” than it is of “Sarouks.”

There are a number of additional related types in this area.  There are “Josan” Sarouks (one of which we will see), there are “Mahals,” “Lilihans,” “Sarabands,” and the earlier “Mir Sarabands.”

We will treat only the “Sarouk,” Ferahan Sarouk, and Josan Sarouk” in our review here of “city” rugs from the Arak area.

“Ferahans” seem to have been an early Arak type.  They  have symmetric knots on a cotton foundation.  The handle of Ferahans is moderately flexible because alternate warps are not deeply depressed.  Designs tend to be “classic repeating” patterns like the “herati.”  The palette is often lighter and can feature lots of white.

“Sarouks” seem to have emerged as a clear type about 1890 and are distinguished from “Ferahans” by a structure with much more deeply depressed warps and the adoption, frequently, of medallion designs.  The Sarouk color palette tends to be darker.  Blue and red often dominate.

“Ferahan Sarouks” seem to be rugs that resemble “Ferahans,” but which have an alternate warp depression that moves them closer to “Sarouks.”  They often display some “Ferahan” color usages, including a distinctive green and expanses of white.

Here are two older Sarouks that David had in the room.

The rug above is the kind of old Saruk that most would readily identify.

David had another in the room with rewoven ends.

We did not have any “Ferahans” in the room, but there were three “Ferahan Sarouks” present.

Here is the first one.

David described this piece as an “antique Ferahan Sarouk.”

Someone had brought in a very different looking “Ferahan Sarouk.”

Here are some closer detail images of this piece.

A third “Ferahan Sarouk” in the room moved in a very different direction again.

This is a piece that requires closer details.

First a corner.

And another detail of field and border, closer yet.

The “Ferahan” heritage of this piece is visible in its lighter coloration and the small repeat devices that cover its field .

Here are some additional “Feraghan Sarouk” rugs not in the room.

And here is a second example with a lighter palette and a niche design.

Sarouks are still being made.  We had a new Josan Sarouk in the room.

The Mehajeran workshop is perhaps the most frequently mentioned  one making Sarouk rugs.

David had brought one Mehajeran Sarouk.

And here is another, larger one with a deeply saturated red field.

The next “city rug” type we treat here is the “Kashan.”

Kashan has a deep weaving tradition and was for a long time famous for its shawls.  But as the shawl market receded in the late 19th century, weavers turned to carpet weaving for which demand was rising sharply.

One possibly apocryphal story about how that happened involves a Kashan dealer who had a lot of Merino wool that had been processed in Manchester, England.  His wife was a skilled weaver.  He asked her to weave a rug using this “Manchester” wool and the results pleased lots of Kashan ladies and the market and before long “Manchester Kashans” became a valued rug product.  Kashans made from wool processed in Manchester are still marketed as “Manchester Kashans” and are seen by some to be very collectible.

Here is one example of a “Manchester Kashan.”

But Kashans of other sorts and qualities are made and it is one city famous for particular workshops.

David had an old Kashan in the room made from “kurk” wool.  It is the larger piece in the image below.

Here are some closer details of this rug.  First a corner.

Then its somewhat unusual open field.

As we noted above, Kashans are one variety of “city” rug in which specific designers are alleged and noted.  This despite the claim of Edwards that there were no factories in Kashan and that all weaving is carried out in homes (see David’s indication below about this Edwards claim).  So it may be that “workshops” in Kashan were quite small family operations.

The most famous Kashan workshop is “Mohtashem” and, although Edwards does not mention it, you will, nowadays, rather frequently hear claims that a given rug was made there.

Here are some Kashans that are also described as “Mohtashems.”

The piece above is attributed to the 19th century.

Here is another, this one woven in 1900.

Silk rugs were woven in Kashan and here is one below with a niche design that “may be a Mohtashem.”

The rugs woven in the Mohtasham workshop themselves vary in type.  David had a smaller one in the room.

He said that this small piece was antique and in silk.

Here are two closer details of it.

As we mentioned above, the claim that a given rug was woven in the Mohtashem workshop is a claim that it is of very high quality and some feel that the designation has become mostly a marketing ploy.

Some even doubt that we can identify “Mohtashems,” reliably, using a stable set of indicators.  Still others, say “no,” there are real Mohtashems, and indicators.

But if Edwards is right about “no rug factories” in Kashan, one wonders where all the rugs claimed to be “Mohtashems” could have been woven.  (David, by the way, says that he has personally seen rug “factories” in Kashan and that Edwards’ indication is not correct.)

The strength of the urge to hold onto some sort of Mohtashem connection is demonstrated by the description of the rug below.

This is a new Chinese rug described as “Mohtashem-inspired.”

Two other Kashan “workshops” whose work we can illustrate are termed “Shad Sar” and “Dabir.”

Here is an alleged “Shad Sar” example.

And here is a rug claimed to be a “Dabir.”

This rug is estimated to have been woven early in the 20th century.

Ishfahans, as we said, as we showed one at the beginning, is often seen to be a near archetype of the “city” rug.  This beautiful city is only a little further south of Kashan.

Here is a typical Ishafahan carpet.

It is the example that appears in the most recent edition of the Eiland’s comprehensive guide.  Notice the great detail and the seeming perfection of the drawing.

David had brought an Ishfahan, with wool pile, but a silk foundation.

Since this rug was in the room we can show you some partial images that exhibit the details of the drawing in Ishafahan rugs.

Some Ishafans are entirely of silk.  The rug below is one such.

Some Ishafans are attributed to specific workshops.

The one below is attributed to the Ahmad workshop in about 1900.

The one below is referred to as a “Seirafinian” Ishfahan.

Here, again, below is the Ishfahan we saw at the beginning.  It is attributed to the “Sarraf Mamoury” workshop, about 1970, in Jon Thompson’s “Carpet Magic.”

I once heard George Jevremovic say in a presentation that he was sending  his “city rug designs” to Chinese weavers because the Chinese want to get designs right.

David had a contemporary piece in the room, with an Isfahan-like design, that he thought had likely been woven in China.

Again, some closer partial images are possible.

Meshed is not an area that is often listed when “city rugs” are discussed, but David includes both Meshed, and the Meshed “Amoghli” workshop, in his city and workshop listings.

Here is an example of a Amoghli Meshed.

Below is a signed Amoghli Meshed, with an elaborate design, woven in 1925.

And here is another attributed to the 19th century.

It is interesting, given the seeming scarcity of Meshed rugs, in general, how frequently the references to a “Agmohli” connection can be encountered.

A scan for “Agmohli” on eBay will often produce something like this.

Looks like an Ishfahan.

For our last geographic center for city rugs, we move to the south center of Iran and to the Kerman area.

Kerman rugs are seen by some to project the acme of Persian rug design and color usage.  Cecil Edwards was so wowed by them that some complain that he devoted too much of his classic book on Persian carpets to them.  But they clearly deserves serious attention when one examines city rugs.

David had a Kerman piece in the room.

He described this as a “Raver” Kerman.  “Raver” most will know, is a village and area close to Kerman city where the best Kerman rugs are said to have been woven.

Here are some other Kerman examples I collected from various sources.  The piece below is a large 19th century Kerman that projects both the sophistication of design and the range of color for which Kerman carpets are famous.

And here are two additional Raver Kermans.  The first is another 19th century rug.  To me it seems glorious.

The second example is a striking medallion design for which no date is given.

We have completed our virtual treatment of the types David discussed in this session.

David answered questions.

My own was that since the Tabriz merchants are seen to have been so influential in establishing rug production in so many parts of Iran, why do they seem not to have mandated a Tabriz structure or the Tabriz hook-based methods?

It seems remarkable, given the seeming influence of the Tabriz organizers, how varied the structures and other usages are in the different areas in which both city rugs and others were produced.

The session came to an end and folks began their after-program conversations and their further examination of the pieces in the room.

I want to thank David for permitting me to fashion this virtual version of his session and for his very considerable help in preparing and editing it.

‘Til next time,

R. John Howe

Dear folks -

On May 9, 2009, Austin Doyle and Michael Seidman

gave a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning program on Afshar rugs and textiles.

This post is one of three that provides a virtual version of this program.

Part 1 is Austin’s lecture.

Part 2 presents the pieces that Austin and Michael brought in to illustrate particular aspects of Afshar weaving.

Part 3 is devoted to the pieces that members of the audience brought to this session.

The Myers Room was full, again, for this program.

Tom Goehner,

the TM’s Curator of Education, introduced Austin and Michael, saying that Austin is a medical doctor specializing in oncology. He is also the president of the Washington area rug club, the International Hajji Babas.

Michael is a molecular biologist, employed in research, and is a member of The Textile Museum board.

Both have presented previous “rug mornings,” and both of them collect Afshar weavings.

Austin began

with a lecture on the Afshars and their weavings.

I have presented a virtual version of it below in some detail. Because we do not have permission to include the images of examples used to illustrate particular points, this lecture is presented entirely in text.   Still, I would suggest that it is worth “plowing through” a bit, since Austin has summarized a lot of the current literature on Afshar weaving conveniently.

Austin first said that Afshari weaving has not been studied much because few westerners have visited the Kerman area in south central Iran where the largest numbers of Afshars have been located.

Here is a closer look at Kerman and its surroundings taken from Edwards’ The Persian Carpet.

Notice that Edwards seems here to place Afshars to the south of Kerman. Opie, in his book Tribal Rugs of Southern Persia, places them more to the southwest.

Centuries before the arrival of the Afshars in Kerman province, the area was inhabited by a variety of Persian, Turkic and Arabic-speaking tribes. Among the most important were three Baluch tribes, two Lori tribes, as well as some Lak tribes.

This diverse background, Austin said, is reflected in the immense complexity of various pastoral nomads that moved about in the Kerman area, among which Afshars were numbered.

A sense of this complexity can be seen in the following brief description. Sirjan (see at extreme lower left in the Kerman map above) is usually seen as the major collecting point for Afshar rugs, but also for those of the Buchakchis (a tribe less well known to rug collectors). In his respected book, The Persian Carpet, Cecil Edwards indicates that he thinks that Bam was actually the Afshari trading center, and that the Doragahis, another tribe, greatly outnumber the Afshars in the Sirjan area. Edwards also notes: “The Persian weavers of the Sirjan valley far outnumber the 40, 000 nomadic Afshari and their rug production is greater.” (ed.: Edwards retired from the rug business in 1947 and was writing in the later 40s.)

One additional sign of the diverse background of Kerman Afshars is that the weavings they produced are the most varied of any of the Persian tribes.

As indicated above, the Afshars were (in the past) pastoral nomads. They were among the “black tent” variety.

Austin said that those in the Kerman area migrated between the cool Jabel Barez mountains (which sometimes reach 4,500 meters) in the summer, and warm winter encampments in the lowlands (which extend west to the Persian Gulf).

He said that the Kerman Afshars are now mostly sedentary, with only a few thousand still living as nomads. There are a dozen Afshar villages where a traditional Turkic dialect is still spoken. Most Afshar descendants have mixed extensively with the Persian people in the villages south and west of Kerman.

Although Afshars are generally thought of as a Kerman area tribe, in fact, Afshar populations exist in a number of other areas as well, notably in Khurasan in northeast Iran, and in the Bijar area of Iran’s northwest.

Next Austin sketched some of the deeper historical background of the Afshars.  He said that the Afshars have roots in the Turkmen Oghuz who left Turkmenistan, east of the Caspian Sea, in the 11th century. They traditionally spoke a Turkic dialect, and some settled in eastern Turkey. but the majority of the tribe settled in Khuzestan at the head of the Persian Gulf.

At the beginning of the 16th century, the Afshars were instrumental in assisting six other tribes, all members of the Kizl Bash Confederation, in placing Shah Isma’il on the throne of Persia (1499-1524). By this time important segments of the Afshar tribe had migrated again to Azerbaijan in the region of Lake Urmia.

Also in the 16th century, the Afshars were forced to migrate from Azerbaijan and were resettled in several parts of Iran. Still in the 16th century, Afshar khans were given control of important parts of Persia and gained considerable power.

Their constant rebelliousness led Safavid shahs and rulers of later dynasties to command the tribe’s dispersal and resettlement.

Nadir Shah, who ruled Persia for about 10 years in the mid-18th century, was an Afshar.

The few remaining Afshars in Azebaijan, who had not migrated, have lost their tribal identity. Afshars of the Khamseh area around Hamadan were powerful until the 19th century.  They have now mingled with other Turkish speaking groups.   Some claim that the best Bijar rugs were woven by Afshars.

P.R.J. Ford indicates that Afshar groups in Khorasan and Mazandaran are loosely associated with the Kurds and their weavings are usually classified as Kurdish.  Afshars in Yaz, Fars and Khuzestan imitate local styles and techniques and are indistinguishable from local production by others.

Austin next listed some of the indicators, most of them structural, that are used to attribute particular weavings to the Afshars.

Afshar Attribution Indicators

Afshar pile rugs tend to be square-ish: 4 feet by 5.5 feet is a frequent approximate size.

Tribal Afshars are all wool (city woven workshop rugs are woven on a cotton foundation with depressed warps). Woolen structures tend to predominate generally, until the 1930s, when cotton was adopted.  There are numerous exceptions to these rules, in which cotton foundations can be seen in very old Afshar rugs, which have other characteristics of rustic origin.

The warps of Afshar rugs are usually ivory wool.  Warps are invariably depressed, usually about 45 degrees, but town rugs tend to be more deeply depressed than tribal rugs.

Afshars usually have two orange-red weft between the rows of knots, which help to distinguish them from Khamseh pieces, although single-wefted weavings are encountered.

Tribal rugs are usually symmetrically knotted, with the presence of asymmetric knots indicating either a village rug or a strong village influence.

All old Afshar rugs have long, flatwoven end finishes between 10-15 cm deep.  Generally. these are done in plain-weave stripes using a few colors. Occasionally extra-weft wrapping is used.  The presence of a row of diagonal bars in the end panels done in extra-weft wrapping strongly suggests an Afshar attribution.

Afshar rugs woven in towns tend to have a firmer handle than do tribal Afshars. In general, Afshars have a somewhat less flexible handle than do Khamsehs. They are somewhat more flexible than are Qashqa’i pieces.

Nearly all Sirjan rugs, whether Afshar or not, tend to have two picks of blue cotton weft between each row of pile knots. Almost all Sirjans have some degree of warp depression.  There is little evidence that either pattern or structure distinguish Sirjan Afshar weavings from those woven by non-Afshar weavers.

Tribal Afshars almost always have reds based from madder.  This is true despite that fact that reds from towns the nearby Kerman area are often derived from cochineal dye.

Some colors are seen to be Afshar indicators. The reds used tend to be distinctive, as is a particular shade of electric blue. A distinctive rosy-brown is used in Shahr-i-Babek rugs.  Color in Afshar rugs also benefits from the fact that the sheep in the Kerman area produce a nice white wool that takes dye very well.

Silk Afshars are rare (See Hali 29, page 77).

Afshar rugs tend to have geometric designs. There is sometimes a visible design influence from Kerman, especially in the form of the boteh.  Kerman, like India’s Kashmir, was a major producer of shawls in which boteh designs were heavily used.  Some of the earliest Persian pile rugs with boteh designs were from the Kerman area, including apparent Afshar products.

Afshar rugs frequently have seven borders.  Border designs include some with diagonal stripes and double boteh borders separated by a serrated column.

There is no real demarcation between designs in rugs by indigenous Afshar weavings and more commercial types.  Nevertheless, some frequent Afshar design usages can be listed. They include:

Afshar rugs often have over-sized hexagonal medallions, hanging lamps and 2-1-2 designs with substantial corner brackets. (See Pacific Collections, p.70; Opie’s Tribal Rugs of South Persia, p.183; Hali 126, p.24).

Afshar rug designs include infinite repeats of oversize vases. The likely source of this usage is a Kerman city design described as the gol-e-bolbol pattern which dates back to the Safavid period. (See village rug examples in Pacific Collections, p. 87 and in MacDonald, Tribal Rugs, p. 111. See tribal rug examples in Opie, Tribal Rugs, p. 224; Sovereign Carpets, p. 82; Hali 139, p. 87. For classical Kerman vase carpets see Hali 112, p. 83; for Lady Baillie Kerman vase carpet, Hali 128, p.111. For early Afshar rug with city influence see Hali 136, p. 46 and Hali 114, p. 85.)

Boteh repeat designs are also frequent in Afshar rugs. Afshars were among the first tribal weavers to use the boteh. As mentioned above, one Afshar boteh design usage featured double botehs with serrated columns (See Middleton, 118). Afshar boteh usages mimicked those of the fine shawls both imported from India and woven in Kerman. These shawls were seen to be the finest garments for tribal chieftains.

Large Afshar botehs often have an interior device that appears to be resting on a butterfly. (See Hali 34, pp. 17 and 65; Pacific Collections, p. 84; Tribal Rugs of South Persia, p. 195; Sovereign Carpets, 81. There is also pre-1800 Eastern Fars carpet fragment from the Burns Collection, Hali 120, p. 82, with a later derivative in an Afshar rug in Hali 140, p. 129.)

Afshars also weave a large latticed “tulip” design, usually on a dark blue ground. Donald Wilburg and David Milberg divided tulip Afshars into two groups. Type 1 with six narrow borders, and Type 2 which features a wide main border flanked on either side by several narrow guards (See Pacific Collections, p. 85.)

Shield designs are also notable in Afshar rugs. These shields are reminiscent of those in rugs from East Anatolia which borders the traditional Afshar homeland in Azerbaijan. They are probably derived from palmette devices. (See Hali 34, p. 18; Pacific Collections, p. 83; Opie’s Tribal Rugs, p. 221; Hali 120, p. 50; Hali 127, p.57.) There are also shield-shaped cartouches that often contain a palmette; and shield separated by a spikey shrub (Antike Orient-Teppiche, p. 97).

We have referred above to the fact that lattice designs are included in “tulip” Afshars.

Afshars also use compartmented designs, which divide field into rectangles or lozenge-shaped compartments (See Hali 57, p. 98; Antike Orient-Teppiche, p. 97).

Murgh (chicken) designs are also encountered in Afshar rugs, but less commonly than in Khamsehs. The usual version seen is that of chickens opposing one another around a vertical pole (See Hali, 29, p. 39).

Afshar rugs also sometimes exhibit Phoenix and Dragon designs (See Hali 116, p. 45; Opie’s Tribal Rugs of South Persia, p. 181; Antike Orient-Teppiche, p. 96).

The influence of Kerman city usages on Afshari weaving is visible, but not overwhelming.  As mentioned elsewhere the Afshars did adopt boteh designs that originate in Kashmir Indian and in Kerman shawls.  Cotton was grown in Kerman province and its presence in the foundation of some older, but more frequently in younger Afshar rugs is likely another sign of Kerman influence.

Kerman city production was marked by large rugs with realistic floral designs, cotton foundations, asymmetric knots open left, used in a distinctive fully depressed structure that included multiple wefts, and reds frequently derived from cochineal.  In contrast, the archetypal production of the Afshars features smaller rugs, closely clipped pile, geometic designs, which is symmetrically knotted on a wool foundation, with reds derived from madder.  While it is not unusual to have apparent tribal Afshar pieces with asymmetric knots, this usually indicates the presence of a Persian villager weaver.

Some nineteenth century Afshar rugs are exceptionally large and have European-style floral designs. They also have asymmetrical knots, deeply depressed warps and cotton foundations, suggesting that they are products of town workshops, although their coloring is distinctly Afshar.

Proximity allowed the Khamseh tribes of Fars and Neyriz to the west, to exert considerable influence on Sirjan weaving, so many of the latter, especially the flatweaves, are hard to distinguish from those of the Khamseh. Striped rugs and those with tree designs are made both in Sirjan and Neyriz.

Afshar designs are frequently variations on hexagonal schemes and stylized flower and foliage motifs. There are also frequently stripes in the spandrels of Afshar rugs.

Next Austin talked about the regional groups who are implicated in Afshar weaving.

First is the Sirjan area, mentioned frequently above. This area is a large valley west of Kerman city in Kerman province. It has the greatest production of tribal and village carpets in Kerman province. Here are the largest concentrations of Afshar weavers, who are outnumbered by Sirjan Persians who also weave.

Jabel Barez and Afshar-I-Kuhi are a mountainous area stretching southeast of Kerman all the way to Baluchistan.  Its rug collection center is Bam. The rugs are termed Afshar Jebel Barazi or Kuhi.  Afshars co-existed with Lak and Baluch tribespeople.  Afshar-I-Kuhi rugs are easily distinguished from other Afshar rugs, being deep-piled with soft, shiny wool in dark colors reminiscent of Baluch rugs (See Hali 58, p. 105). Old Kuhi rugs are symmetrically knotted with two shoots of weft between rows of knots, with depressed warps. Their foundation is either all wool or a mixture of wool and cotton. The Kuhi have a unique khorjin in which both the front and back are piled. Kuhi means “from the mountain.”  Flatweaves resemble those of Sistan Baluch (MacDonald, Tribal Rugs, p. 122.)

Shahr-I-Babak and Dehaj are areas located in the extreme Northwest of Kerman province. Dehaj is a village north of Shahr-I-Babak with a long history of excellent weaving, generally by Arab residents. Rugs have a high-quality weave with blue wefts and symmetric knots (See MacDonald, Tribal Rugs, p. 120; also the boteh rug in Ford, p. 69).

Pockets of Afshar (also Khamseh) are found in the neighborhood of Neriz, a town in Fars province to the west of Kerman. Designs peculiar to Neriz include triple-trunk trees supporting angular flowering, bows with numerous birds.  Saffron or white fields are noted, as well as deep indigo botehs and sophisticated flower borders (Hali 34, cover; Hali 20, p. 30; MacDonald, Tribal Rugs, p. 115; Hali 113, p. 34; Middleton, p. 119).

“Outback Afshars” (See Hali 117, cover) is a term popularized by Tom Cole to refer to primitive and archaic Afshar rugs, often with lazy lines, which have turned up in the bazaars of the Pakistani province of Baluchistan. These rugs have a structure similar to that of Azerbaijani weaving with cotton or mixed cotton and wool foundations, coarse weave, with uneven backs and slightly exposed wefts. Some of the oldest Afshar rugs known have a similar structure (Tanavoli).  Some rugs in this group have an asymmetric knot open to the right. Warps, in some cases, are cotton twisted with animal hair. Colors include very saturated reds and greens and an electric blue, plus peach.

Afshar weaving includes the following formats/weave techniques:

Khorjin: many pile saddle bags were woven.

Namakadans : salt bags used to carry salt or grain.

Jol-i-ash: horse covers

Qur’an bag: for carrying a Koran volume

Dozar: a rug two meters by one and a half meters or less

Zaronim: a rug one and a half meters by one meter, an older format.

Sofrehs: and similar flatweaves; mostly in concentric or zigzag pattersns. Done in a mixture of plain tapestry weave and double-interlocking brocade with delicate patterns in weft wrapping and weft substitution techniques. Sofrehs were used in a variety of ways, among them, for wrapping (there are “bread” sofres), and as eating cloths.

Sumak: less common than in the Caucasus but some technical similarities between Afshar gelims and Caucasian sumaks suggest a common origin.

Shiraki peech: another square-ish format, a flatwoven cover about five feet by eight feet, with a complicated structure in which plain weave is combined with weft wrapping, brocading and weft substitution to produce images and motifs that are often diamond shapes.

This is the end of Austin’s introductory lecture.

He and Michael now moved to examine some “in the fabric” pieces they had brought in to illustrate particular aspects of Afshar weaving.  To go to this Part 2 double click on the link immediately following or copy and past it into your browser.

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/afshar-rugs-and-textiles-part-2/

Please note that there is also a Part 3, in which pieces brought in by members of the audience were examined.  This third part is at the following link:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/afshar-rugs-and-textiles-part-3/

This is the second part of a three-part virtual presentation of a Textile Museum program on Afsar rugs and textiles conducted by Austin Doyle and Michael Seidman.

It is likely advisable to read through Austin’s lecture in Part 1 since it provides context for the illustrative pieces in this part.  Here is the link to that lecture:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/afshar-rugs-and-textiles-part-1/

A third part is devoted to piece participants brought in.  This link takes you to Part 3:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/afshar-rugs-and-textiles-part-3/

Austin and Michael had brought a number of Afsar pieces

arrayed on the front-of-the-room board.

Michael began, preliminarily, with some older pieces Harold Keshishian had brought that were possibly relatable to Afshar weaving.

The first of these preliminary pieces was the mounted shawl fragment below.

Here are some closer details of this piece.

The botehs are on a silk ground.

Harold estimated this fragment to the 18th century.

It is not clear whether this fragment is from an Indian or a Persian shawl, but Kerman shawls (and this is the possible link to our Afshar topic) were noteworthy and are thought by some to compete favorably with the more famous Indian shawls of Kashmir.

A second piece that Harold brought WAS a shawl from Kerman.

Here are some closer details of this colorful piece.

Its stripes with their finely detailed ornamentation are reminiscent of the similarly colorful and embroidered pantaloons of Zoroastrian women.

A third piece that Harold had brought was the Kerman brocade below.

Harold dated this richly textured textile to 1750 and said that it had been reconstituted from several pieces.

Here are some closer details.

You may recall that we saw some other images of this fine piece in our virtual treatment of the textiles at a party that Harold and Melissa held during the holiday season in 2008

Harold had also brought in an image of Nader Shah, the great Afshar military leader and somewhat less distinguished ruler of Persia in the mid-18th century.

Michael treated the material on the board, beginning with a series of Afshar bags with botehs used prominently in their designs.

The first such piece was a complete khorjin set.

This piece was attributed to Afshars in southwest Iran.

Notice that the botehs in its respective field areas are reflected so as to be seen upright on both sides when the khorjin is in use.

Here are some closer details.

First of the bridge, with chevron designs common to many SW Persian tribal groups.

And then of a corner of its lower half.

The back of this piece is a plain, brownish shade.

The next piece was a single khorjin face with a rural version of the boteh device.

The effect is subtle because of the close colors, but notice the diagonal use of color in its botehs leaning to the right.

Here is a closer look at one corner.

I mentioned from the audience that Afshars often seem to have a distinctive blue in their palette and Austin and Michael agreed that there seems an identifiable Afshar color palette.

The next piece was the smaller bag face below.

The scale of the botehs in this piece are somewhat larger and add to its appeal, as does the framing effect of its white ground main border.  The spiky floral meander of the white border is very characteristic of Afshar weaving.

The next piece was a khorjin face of the more usual size.

Notice again the use of the distinctive blue mentioned above. The intricacy of the designs around the closure system draws attention.

Here is a closer, more comprehensive look at this upper right corner.

The next piece was the interesting bag face below.

Here, an effective striped border frames a field with large-scale, instrument botehs, alternating with forcefully colored armatures.

The next “boteh” piece was a sizable rug.

As with the previous piece, colorful, instrumented botehs are placed in colums between a meandering lattice of substantial armatures.

This piece was described as featuring “serrated leaf forms.” The heavy armatures alternate between sections that do seem to be clear plant forms to others that may well be also, but that seem nearly mechanical.

The field is framed by two major borders. The outside one with its white ground is especially effective and quite characteristic of an Afshar border design.

The next piece was the very small bag below.

It was described as “finely woven” and its virtues are captured in this single image.

The following piece was a salt bag.

Skillful use of red and a yellow-orange enrich this piece, especially in areas where is is combined with a dark ground.

Note that the lattice of the field emphasizes the rectilinear while both the forms inside that lattice and the main border move toward the curviliner.

The design combinations used in the top opening-flap are unusual.

Again, there is a rectilinear-curvilinear field-border contrast, but this time is it reversed.

The bag of this salt bag is also unusual

Attractive striped flatweave is combined with a pile treatment of the opening-flap similar to be distinctive from that of the front.

The next piece was a classic, published Afshar rug, now locally owned, but once in the Ralph Yohe collection.  Rugs with this “tulip” design are thought to include some of the oldest known Afshar rugs.

Multiple sets of four richly drawn tulips are opposed on a dark blue field and bracketed by an intricate lattice.

Three smaller scale borders frame the dramatic field without competing with it.

This design is seen to be drawn from the shawl tradition and a dealer in the room said it looked Kerman to him.

There were some other examples of this “tulip” design in the room. The piece below

was this khorjin face (closure slits at the bottom in this image).

Here is a sightly closer look.

A third piece with this “tulip” design field was a small rug.

A distinctive white-ground main border with polychrome medallions frames its field.

Here are some details of it.

The next piece was the large rug below with a field of diagonals.

The colorful diagonals a composed of abstracted plant forms. The main border is an Afshar striped usage.

There was some question about whether this rug was an Afshar. Some thought that this rug, which had somewhat darker warp threads, might be from Fars province.

The next piece has a distinctive zigzag field design.

It was seen to be a Sirjan valley town rug, with depressed warps and a stiff handle, woven in the early 20th century.

Here is a closer corner detail.

And one that shows its “stars and blossums” field devices.

The next piece was the small bag below.

Its field features a large star and a number of smaller stars in background.

This time the zigzag designs are on the back.

And on the small panels between the slits in the closure system on the pile side.

The next piece was another khorjin with star devices arranged diagonally.

Here is a closer top center detail, showing the decoration of the closure system area.

There was some question about whether this piece is Afshar or Khamseh.

A further piece was the rug below.

This piece has seven or eight borders.

Here is a closer detail of one lower corner.

And his is a closer look at its field devices.

This rug was seen to be a city product.

The next was also a rug, this time a three-medallion design.

It has brown wool warps and a “eye-dazzler” field design surrounding its medallions,

and a subtle. but well instrumented, system of borders that frame the field effectively.

The careful composition and controlled execution of this piece suggests that it was woven following a cartoon.

We next turned to another khorjin face.

It has larger-scale floral-like devices in its field.

The stark white of its border contrasts dramatically with the strong colors of the field.

The colors of this piece are strong and beautiful.

Despite its careful composition, the spacious drawing of the main border design projects, for me, an unusual vitality.

In my view this khorjin face is one of the best of an aesthetically strong group of pieces presented in this session.

The next piece was a pile panel

with Memling guls.

It has the shape and size of a Turkmen torba, but its border systems seem Persianate.

It could conceivably be a side panel of a small, pile cargo-bag type mafrash but that, too, could be questioned.

The next piece had a single Memling gul

but this time it occurred on a salt bag.

The colorful bag face below was attributed to the Fars province.

It “chickens” might suggest a Khamseh weaver, but it has white warps and a distinctive border that might license an Afshar attribution.

The next two piece were khorjin faces with similar designs.  The first khorjin face has a field of tiny boteh and a very fine weave.

These field designs are very similar to those sometimes seen on pieces attributed to the Qashqua’i.

Here is a closer look at details of the first one.

And here is a detail of an upper corner of the second one.

It was thought that both of these pieces are probably Afshar, with their white warps and characteristic borders.

The next piece was the rug below.

This rug was described as a rustic version of a “vase” design.

It has a camel hair field, which is unusual for Afshar production.

and an asymmetric knot.

The vase designs have the appearance of faces.  A local rug dealer of Persian extraction claimed that the faces were intentionally drawn and representated “div” or demons.  Here is a closer detail of its side border systems.

The following piece was the rug below.

It features a large central stepped medallion.

It was described as having a classic Afshar design.

Here is a closer look at a lower corner of it, with a classic Afshar spandrel design.

The next piece was, to my mind, one of the prettiest rugs of the day.

This is a Kerman area city rug with a lovely boteh white border.

Its indigo field effectively recedes to give the impression that its center medallion

and corner devices

“float” on it.

It has an asymmetric knot open to the right and “vase” motifs. It was estimated to have been woven in the 3rd quarter of the 19th century.

The next piece was yet another rug.

It was described as having a “medallion and vase” field design.

Its reds are from madder.

And it has “niche” spandrels.

Its knot is asymmetric open to the right. It was estimated to have been woven about 1900, but had classic Afshar colors of peach, electric blue, and a strong green.

The last piece among those that Austin and Michael had brought in was the one below.

Here are closer looks at its field.

Among its colors are an apricot and a peach shade.

It has star medallion corners.  The 2-1-2 design of the medallions in the field may be a more archaic version of the medallion and spandrel design seen in the other rugs of this design, shown above.

The knot is asymmetric open to the right. It was estimated to have been woven in the 19th century.

Perhaps its most interesting feature is that it exhibits “lazy lines.”

This rug appears to have the weave, colors, and lazy lines described as characteristic of “outback” Afshars, in the Hali article by Tom Cole, and certainly does have a primitive and archaic appearance to its drawing.

Folks in the audience had brought in a number of related pieces.  They can be seen in Part 3.  Here, again, is the concluding link to that material:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/afshar-rugs-and-textiles-part-3/

This is Part 3 of a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning presented at The Textile Museum here in Washington, D. C. by Austin Doyle and Michael Seidman on Afshar Rugs and Textiles.

Part 1 is Austin’s lecture in which he summarized the literature usefully.  The link to his lecture is here:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/afshar-rugs-and-textiles-part-1/

Part 2 is devoted to the pieces Austin and Michael brought to illustrate various aspects of their topic.  Here is the link to Part 2:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/afshar-rugs-and-textiles-part-2/

In Part 3 we moved to look at pieces others in the audience had brought in. The fist piece was a small bag the field of which was dominated by a flower form.

The next brought in piece was the rug below.

Again flower forms dominate the field. Here are two closer looks.

The floral forms in both of these pieces are seen to be instances of western influence in oriental rug and textile design.

The next piece was the bag face below.

Here is a closer look at the abstracted floral forms that populate both its field and borders.  The meandering floral main border is a characteristic Afshar design, and this particular floral border was seen in several Afshar rugs in Part 2.

The next piece was a “mystery rug.”

It was described as having been woven in Khorasan. It is full of Turkmen usages, mostly Yomut, but as drawn by a member of another weaving group.

Here is a closer look at an upper corner.

And here is a lower one.

Notice that there are pile elems at both ends, a sometime Yomut usage.

The guls in the field are a conventionalized version of the “tauk naska” gul

in which the “animal” forms in the quartered major guls have become “H’s,” (this happens with some Turkmen pieces too).

The gesture at a minor gul is a “beach ball” device seenon some Middle Amu Dyra Turkmen weavings, but more frequently on Caucasian rugs and textiles. This same device is employed as minor borders flanking a meander main border that lacks any recognizable Turkmen roots.

It was estimated that this odd rug was likely to have been woven by Afshars about 1930. This is plausible since the Khurasan Afshars live close to both Kurds and to Turkmen groups. A few years ago Michael Craycraft drew my attention to another piece with Turkmen designs that he attributed to the Afshars.

The next brought in piece was the one below.

This bag face was described as 20th century with Kurdish designs. Here it is reversed top to bottom.

Its feature of most interest, of course, is the unusual elem-like panel on a seeming khorjin face.

The next piece was also a small bag.

It was attributed to Kurdish weavers.

Here is a closer detail.

The next brought in piece was the large sumak below.

Here are some closer details of it.

Notice that the central part of the “bird-on-a-pole” devices contain “Greek keys” often seen to signal an Armenian presence.

The attribution of this sumak piece was uncertain, but the border designs and colors were thought to be possibly consistent with Afshar work.

The next piece was a very small, vanity-type bag.

European style flower forms are heavily abstracted.

There was conjecture about whether this piece is better attributed to the Afshars or the Bakhtiaris.

The next piece was another large sumak.

It had a field composed of left-leaning “stripes” of small poly-chrome medallions.

Here is a closer look at the internal intrumentation of these medallions.

A number of sofrehs had been brought in and the piece below was the first of them.

Sofrehs are distinghuished by a variety of uses. This one is seen to be for carrying bread or bread dough.

Here are some closer looks at parts of this piece.

My notes draw attention to the side edges of this piece.

It was attributed either to the Afshar or the Khamseh.

The next piece was another “bread” sofreh with lovely colors.

Again, a closer detail image.

The attribution conjectures about this piece paralleled those of the previous one.

The following piece was also a sofreh, but of a different type.

It is an “eating cloth” type and was put down on the ground for meals. “Eating” sofrehs are also sometimes called “bridal paths” because they were apparently also on occasion used in wedding ceremonies.

This is a substantial textile, 12 or 14 feet long, with a gray-abrashed camel ground field, inward pointing zagged black borders and

heavily decorated ends.

Once with it in his hands, Tanavoli initially opined that this piece was likely Kurdish. When I indicated that some others had thought it Afshar he immediately agreed that it could be that as well.

In his lecture, Austin mentioned that one frequent Afshar color usage is a distinctive blue and this piece (although it is not readily visible in these images) has enough of it to suggest to me that it is mostly likely Afshar. You will see this distinctive blue more readily in some of the other sofrehs that follow here.

The next piece, another eating sofre, with a design very like mine immediately above, but shorter, WAS attributed to the Afshars.

Note: From this point forward the owner of these pieces has, at my request, supplemented the descriptions, made in the text from my notes, with captions of his own.  Since his knowledge of these pieces, and access to them for purposes of description, is far superior to the indications in my notes, his captioned indications should be taken to be the accurate ones.

Here are some closer details of this piece.

The distinctive Afshar blue usage is more visible in these end panels.

Here is a detail of a device in its field.

The next piece was also a sofreh attributed to the Afshars, but with a very different palette.

The caption above provides the indicated attribution.

Here are some closer detail images.

The next piece was a Sirjan-valley sofreh.

Again some closer looks at parts of it.

A next piece was yet another bread sofreh below.

Again, the caption provides the attribution.

Here is one closer detail.

The next piece was this complete khorjin set.

Its field is a tesselated version of the “bird-on-a pole” design with internal “Greek key” instrumentation.

The last of the brought-in pieces was the one below.

It owner attributed it to Veramin…Afshar Veramin.

Here are some closer details.

Austin and Michael answered questions,

the program was adjourned and folks moved to the front.

others compared notes on pieces in hand.

My thanks for Austin and Michael for permitting this virtual version of their program and their considerable editorial assistance in producing it.

Pat Reilly provided a good set of notes and Tom Xenakis helped editorially as well.

I hope you have enjoyed what seems to me an ambitious program, well executed.

Regards,

R. John Howe

Dear folks -

On May 30, 2009, Wendel Swan

gave a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning program at The Textile Museum here in Washington, D.C. on the topic of “Rugs and Textiles 101.”

The TM Bulletin in which these sessions are announced says that Wendel’s topic was to be “Rug and Textiles 102.”  That may be a misprint, but it is perhaps a fortunate one since Wendel did not do the sort of thing that is often done on the “101″ rubric.  He’ll tell you about that shortly.

This program was divided, as RTAM’s often are, into a beginning lecture and a following related show and tell, the latter based on pieces that have been brought in.  What follows immediately below is a virtual version of Wendel’s lecture.

Wendel said:

I am speaking today on the topic of “Rugs and Textiles 101, because Aija Blitte

suggested that I do so.

She’s out of town and can’t appreciate that the task

the task became more difficult than I imagined.

I can’t give a condensed version of a book.

But most books don’t tell you how to begin at 101.

To paraphrase George Constanza

This lecture is not about the rugs.

It’s about how to learn and how to think about rugs and textiles.

What you want to learn about depends on your interests.

For some rugs and textiles are art.

For others it’s a matter of ethnography.

Or history.

Some find them exotic and alluring.

For others, it may be a collecting compulsion — if your going to collect something, why not rugs?  And why not lots  and lots of them?

For others it’s simply a matter of decoration.

I doubt that is the reason for any of you being here today.

For a surprising number who attend programs here at the TM, or at rug societies everywhere, who do not actually  own any rugs, it’s an intellectual challenge. Something like a puzzle where the path to understanding where, when and by whom any given rug was made is not clear at the outset.

I think we all pretty well know what an “oriental rug” is and where they come from, although this is not just about “rugs and carpets” but about the entire weaving tradition of which rugs and carpets, as we know them in the west, are only a part.

The Middle East was the home of many of the earliest civilizations.  Expansion and war and commerce spread textiles, that were probably first developed in the western parts, through out these lands.

From the earliest times textiles traveled across the silk route.

Wool rugs are known in various parts of Central Asia, but much of the Far East is not home to sheep and therefore not to rugs.  Han China did not produce rugs, although they were woven beyond the Great Wall to the north and west by the so-called “barbarians.”  Japan has virtually no tradition of weaving woolen rugs.  Because of occupation by the Turks or their connections with them, some rugs were woven in such unlikely areas as Spain and Sweden.

Because of the dry climate, some remarkably well-preserved textiles have been found around the Taklimaken Basin,

including the elk or deer in the image below,

that bears some resemblance to the designs found on the Pazyryk textiles.

If this is Rugs 101, the title implies a beginning.  Whenever I want to learn something about rugs, this is where I begin -

by scouring my books.  About half of my rug books are shown here, but you can begin in The Textile Museum’s shop, where many important books are available or can be ordered.

If I had to recommend one general reference book, it would probably be the Eilands’ Oriental Carpets: A Comprehensive Guide.

It has an excellent balance of description, history and technical analysis.

And the images have improved considerably from the first edition.

Jon Thompson’s catalog, From Tibet to Timbuktu is another good general survey,

placing familiar weavings in their cultural contexts,

but it lacks structural analysis.

If I were allowed only one rug book in my prison cell, it would be Joseph V. McMullan’s Islamic Carpets,

a recordation of one of the greatest carpet collections in America.  Published in 1965, the plates are are of remarkable quality.  The only problem is that it is very hard to find and very expensive when found.

Perhaps the best catalog of the best rug exhibition I have ever seen is the modestly-priced Flowers Underfoot, Indian Carpets of the Mughal Era,

which was at the Metropolitan Museum in New York about 11 years ago.

It may be impractical in that we are unlikely to see any Mughal carpets in the wild, let alone be able to buy one. But the exquisite carpets in this volume are exactly what you need to review over and over to train your eyes.

The rug below is one I will use to illustrate the nearly perfect use of color in a program I will give here in the fall on color theory.

Everyone should have at least one decent book on early Turkish rugs such as this one

on the rugs at the Vakiflar in Istanbul.

Turkey has the longest continuous documented history of all the rug weaving regions.  I believe that to really understand the rugs that most of us collect from the last 125 years, we must know something about the Anatolian rugs of 300, 500 or 700 years ago.

You’ll find rugs like this eight-lobed medallion carpet from an Oushak village,

which evolved into the less sophisticated village rug on the left below, and that design, I submit, is the source of the powerfully attractive sumak bag face, on the right below,

that was on the cover of From the Bosphorous to Samarkand, the seminal exhibition here at The Textile Museum that sent scores of collectors in search of flatweaves.

The khorjin face above has long been called a “beetle bag,” because of its supposed resemblance to a beetle or to some other bug, no matter how silly that concept may be.

Another inexpensive book to which I frequently refer is Charles Grant Ellis’ Oriental Carpets in the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

A few of his attributions remain controversial, but Charlie did a superb job of historical and technical analysis, and the carpets themselves are wonderful.

Many are on permanent display like this green-ground Holbein rug from the 17th century.

Philadelphia is only a little more than two hours away (from Washington, D.C.) and the PMA’s rugs must absolutely be seen.  While seeing images in a book is great, examining the rugs close-up is even more valuable.  The more you see and handle, the more you learn.

You can buy a decent small rug for what a copy of Christopher Alexander’s A Forshadowing of 21st Century Art

will cost you, but the Turkish rugs in it are spectacular.

I cannot recommend the text.  Just look at the pretty pictures such as that of the small rug above.

A. Cecil Edwards was a producer of rugs in Iran during the second quarter of the 20th century, and  his The Persian Carpet

describes not only the rugs but the industry itself.  You may not be interested in Persian rugs but his insight is invaluable.  He devotes a disproportionately large space to the rugs of Kerman, but this is  a terrific book.  He is not just hawking his wares.

Speaking of hawking, when I first became interested in oriental rugs in the 60s, Charles Jacobsen’s book

was one of the very few on the shelves of the Denver library.  I didn’t know of the McMullan book at the time.

Jacobsen was a dealer in Syracuse, N.Y., who advertised heavily and sent rugs all over the country on approval.  Some made their way into the Fisher collection which is now at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond.  Jacobsen’s plates are of mediocre quality, there is no structural analysis, but Jacobsen is perpetually joyous about his offerings.

For awhile a snickered at the thought of this book, but when I revisited it a few years ago, I recognized real insight in parts of it.  It’s worth owning because its pretty cheap.

Looking at image after image in the book pretty quickly enables you to make the comparison between rugs that is part of connoisseurship.

You know that the rug  the one below isn’t very good,

and that this next one below is pretty good.

You can also tell that the one below is great.

And then you begin to ponder how much similarity there is between the rug on the left below, from Northwest Persia or the Caucasus, and the yellow-ground rug, from Konya, on the right.

And then when you are in the Haghia Sofia in Istanbul and look up at the mosaic ceiling.

you see kinship with them both.

I firmly believe that our understanding and appreciation of rugs will be enhanced if we view them in the broader context of what we call “Islamic Art.”

Several books like this are available and they are very inexpensive.

The catalog below

from an exhibition at the National Galley a few years ago, is also useful in seeing that Islamic patternmaking and designs (of which the rugs and textiles are merely a part) are influenced by and constructed with Islamic religious tenets , BUT Islamic art

is not specifically religious, not even in the decoration of pages of the Koran and

most commonly does not represent living creatures.

Consequently, most Islamic art, including rugs, is either geometric

and associated with a belief in order, or floral,

or epigraphic (based upon calligraphy);

here we see at least four styles of calligraphy in this Safavid dome in Isfahan…incidentally, calligraphy has historically considered the highest form of art in Islam.

Most predominantly, however, we see a combination of these three styles: geometric, floral and epigraphic.

In the image below we see

the tiles are arranged in the very common, so-called ”stars and bars” pattern.  The eight-pointed stars and crosses are geometric, the internal decoration is floral and the edges are all done in calligraphy.  A wall can be fully tiled using only two molds although each tile may be decorated differently.

However, Islamic designs are seldom exclusive to any one medium.  In the images below we see

one version of the “stars and bars” format, in tile, on the left, and a Chodor pile engsi to the right, using  another version of that format.

There is no structural reason for using the “stars and bars” pattern in a pile carpet, so we can only conclude that the engsi pattern was copied from the tilework.

A further example is the  comparison of the sarcopholous in the upper of the two bands below,

with the border of a Kerman “tree-of-life” rug in the lower band.

The reciprocal border of the famous Chelsea carpet below,

is, substantially, identical to the decoration on the Iznik bowl below.

We can, also, see the clear relationship between the partial medallion of the Oushak, below

and the Iznik lid below.

And the Iznk tiles, on the left below, in the Rustem Pasha mosque in Istanbul,

were undoubtedly the inspiration for the class of rugs (on the right, above) called Oushak ”bird” rugs.  The birds exist only in someone’s fanciful imagination.

Islam did not create a new art form or style, but perpetuated and adapted the art of indigenous cultures some truly ancient.

Immediately below, is a Gordian or Anatolian wooden box from about 800 BC,

and below is another engsi with the same design in its borders.

The manner of the 16th century Koran cover below

is quite similar to the antique Serapie below

and to its new counterpart that follows here.

The prayer rug format is derived from niches or mirhabs in the mosques or other architectural elements.

Islamic art, including rugs and textiles, is traditional because the cultures repeat and copy designs and patterns.  This is not to deny the skills of the weaver, but, fundamentally, and for a variety of reasons, it is the culture, not the weaver, who produces the rugs and textiles.

Because of this, I very much dislike using the word “unique.”

Almost everything is copied from something else or inspires copies.

To illustrate this, I’ll ask you how many of you have ever seen or heard of the silk Kashan depicting the dynamic duo of Maggie and Jiggs?

If you think this might be unique, you should know that at least seven versions of this design have passed through the auction houses over the years.

There is widespread sharing or copying of designs among textiles.  Here, below, is an 11th century Coptic curtain in the David Collection in Copenhagen that was on view at Boston University a couple of years ago.

Note the medallions.

Here, below, are five Turkmen medallions that are at least similar.

It is impossible to say which came first, but the further back we look, the more familiar faces we see.

The Sasian textile below

has eight-lobed medallions that appear in various forms

in nearly every culture in the Near East.

To conclude, if you’re interested in rugs study other Islamic art.  If you are interested in any one type of rug or textile, study others.  As with languages, the more of them you know, the better is your mastery of your native tongue.

Now let’s return to the books.  I will admit that the first thing I think about when I am considering acquiring anything is “How will it look on the wall?”

But very soon I want not just to look AT it, but INTO it.

That’s why every collector need at least one good book on structure.  Easy to find, inexpensive and chock full of structural details is Marla Mallett’s Woven Structures.

If you want to know what you have, understand how it has been built, I believe this book is a must to have.

Besides attribution, there can be times when looking into a rug has its advantages.  A couple of years ago a dealer sent me images of this small gabbeh.

I hadn’t seen anything quite like it.  It was worn but had great colors and a minimalism that often appeals to me.  When it arrived and I opened the box, I immediately knew that it was a fake, based on the unusual wear and the fact that it was brand-new clean right down to the foundation.

I sent it back and several months later saw this rug advertised on the internet,

all in full pile and new.  Obviously, it was made by the same weavers, but it was because I am used to looking into rugs, not just at them, that I avoided an expensive mistake.

About two months ago I saw this fragment advertised on the internet.

I like the details.

It was very much like a fragment that a friend of mine owns.  Actually, quite similar, although there is more left of the one advertised (here on the left below).

When I received a picture of the back

I had some doubts.  This group should not have dark red wefts as this one had.  The seller then withdrew it from sale, saying that he had just learned that it might be a fake.

Eventually, the seller provided me with the rare opportunity to see a fake before and after the distressing had taken place.

I never got to see it in the wool, but once again I am sure that looking into the rug, rather than just at it, would have revealed its secrets.

The rug below

was in an exhibition at ACOR in Indianapolis a few years ago, when some rug restorers took a close look that determined that it was a fake, made with old wool on an old foundation.  There were various clues, but not one of them could be found in any of the literature.  Making that determination required hands-on experience.

Yes, you need to read books and imprint your brain with as many images as you can.  But you still have to handle, touch and feel rugs and textiles to learn about them.

There is, of course, a chance to do that here

on many Saturday mornings, but you should also visit dealers and attend conferences whenever possible.

The ACOR scheduled for St. Louis had to be canceled and there will eventually be another one although no time or place has yet been determined.  However, ICOC is planning its next full conference in Stockholm in June, 2011,

with a post-conference trip to St. Peterburg.

I know that you will be impressed with the textiles in Stockholm and, certainly in St. Petersburg which has some of the greatest, including the Pazaryk carpet.

Read your books and you’ll be ready to jump in.

Wendel answered questions, then moved to the material that he and some participants had brought in.

To see a virtual version of this second part of this Rugs 101 RTAM, you need to go to this link:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/08/27/wendel-swan-rugs-101-the-pieces-brought-in/

or return to the entrance page and press the second item in the right hand listing.

I want to thank Wendel for both permitting and working actively with me to produce this virtual version of his interesting “cut” into “Rugs and Textiles 101.”

Regards,

R. John Howe

Dear folks -

This is the second part of a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning program that Wendel Swan gave at The Textile Museum, here in Washington, D.C. on May 30, 2009.  This program is best experienced by first looking at Wendel’s lecture at the following link:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/08/27/wendel-swan-rugs-101-the-lecture/

You can also use this same link at the top of this page.

Wendel had brought some material to illustrate some aspects of his topic, but said that he had not selected what to bring in a systematic way, but had picked related rugs and textiles that had not been shown recently.  Members of the audience also brought in some material.

Wendel began with a filikli from the Karapinar area of Anatolia.

This shaggy piece is of ivory angora wool.  It is decorated with large cruciform medallion.  It is very coarse, having only one knot per square inch.

A look at the tan back of this piece shows how widely spaced the rows of long pile knots are.

Wendel quite likes the strong graphic impact and the archaic character of this traditional Anatolian sleeping rug,

but acknowledges that his wife longs for the day when it leaves their collection.

This illustrates an aspect of collecting not treated in Wendel’s collection: one’s “significant other(s)” may not always share one’s enthusiasm for a given piece.  Ownership of a piece like this can require considerable tact and a lot of perserverance.

Wendel’s next piece had a niche design.

Considered generally, this piece is an instance of Anatolian designs sourced in architecture, geometrics and flower forms.

Its field

is similar to many employed on “prayer” designs from Ladik and its striped main border

is of a sort seen by some to be associated with Bergama.

But Wendel said, that this piece illustrates the importance of looking INTO a rug, not just AT it, since its structure suggests that it was woven in the Konya region.

It has wonderfully full pile, with beveled effects in some areas, due to corrosively mordanted natural dyes, and is dated.

Wendel’s third piece is spare and mysterious.

A precisely drawn set of borders surround a lightly abrashed field that Wendel reported is actual camel hair.

Six quadrapeds are arrayed vertically along both side edges of the field.

One mysterious aspect of this piece is that despite the demonstrations of the weaver’s ability to draw designs precisely, there is a faint, almost ghostly, and awkwardly drawn niche form placed in the top of the field.

This rug was once used in one of Wendel’s “mystery rug” programs at an ACOR.  It is still not entirely clear where it was woven.  The best current guess is NW Persia.

The next piece was this “Ersari” compartmented design.

Here is a close look at the instrumentation of  the designs in these compartments.

The design elements in the compartments could, arguably be simply geometric or perhaps an abstracted flower form with a top blossom and two leaves on the lower sides.

In any event, this is another example suggesting the advantages of examining a piece you are considering, closely.  At first glance this piece may seem a clear fragment and there are parts of its edges missing.  But a closer look at all of its edges

reveals that it is largely complete.  So close examination can produce surprising favorable results as well as the discovery of potential or actual problems.

Wendel’s next piece was the one immediately below.

This is a rare piece: a pile rug attributed to the Shahsavan.  One indicator of this attribution (the notion of Shahsavan pile weaving is questoned by some) is that it has “sinuous warps” (a feature Marla Mallett describes as “lack of weft ease”).

The tan areas in this rug contain some actual camel hair.

There is only one guard border on the outside edge of the field,

a red-blue reciprocal.

The stripes of the field have their own internal decorative devices.

Decorated stripes of this sort are also seen in some Caucasian rugs from the Genje area.

The next piece is one half of a complete khorjin.

This is a Shahsavan sumak piece, very finely woven, with precise drawing and brilliant colors.  Its field design features a bold cruciform medallion.  The back is striped blue and black.

There are a number of Shahsavan khorjins with this design and one of the thing that collectors attempt is to acquire pieces seen to be the “best of type” (there is also a little sneering in some quarters at this latter notion).  Nevertheless, this piece is thought by more than a few to be perhaps the best of this cruciform medallion design.

The next piece was another khorjin face.

It is another cruciform design but this time in pile.  It was attributed to the Kurds.

Wendel’s next piece was a panel from a  sumak cargo-bag-type mafrash.

This piece is attributed to the Hashtrud area.  The white areas are cotton.

Many mafrash panels (both sides and ends) have borders top and bottom but not at the sides.  And that is the case here.  Wendel is, in fact, partial to mafrash panels that have borders all round.  This may seem a minor difference, but it affects the aesthetics of such panels seen in isolation.  Th0se with borders on all sides have a “completeness” that those with borders only top and bottom lack.  The great colors and strong graphics of this piece likely compensate enough in this case to get it included in Wendel’s collection.

The next piece was also a mafrash panel with a stepped medallion.

Pile mafrash panels are not rare, but are infrequent enough to draw real attention when a good one is encountered.  This one projects good colors, a simple, but graphically strong field and borders of a smaller scale that do not compete with it. It may have been woven by Kurds.

The next piece was this chanteh.

Wonderful color on a dark ground, effectively again framed by a smaller scale white-ground border.  Its small size is also an attraction.  This is a piece indicating that “charm” is not always in tension with “aesthetic quality.”

Wendel said that he is not always taken with Jaf Kurds but could not resist the one below when he encountered it.

A closer look at one corner.

The feature that, of course, drew Wendel’s attention is its green-ground elem decorated with Memling guls.

This elem is a feature worthy of note.  It is not just unusual, but works to raise the aesthetic quality of this piece considerably.

Wendel next showed two small khorjin faces.

Again he has been attracted to simplicity, good color and drawing, and an overall composition that balances field, field devices and border effectively.

The next piece was another mafrash side panel.

A little closer central detail.

Alternate warps on this piece are depressed, something some say permits a closer attribution.

Wendel used this piece my recent “Easy to Weave; Hard to Weave” RTAM as an example in which the drawing is not perfect (the latch-hooks do not always align).  He sees this piece as older.

The next piece was another khorjin face.

While the colors in this piece are milder, it is interesting because it is well drawn and its structure is reverse sumak with some warp depression.  It is a very tough fabric and would stand up in hard wear.

The next piece was the panel of zili brocade below.

A closer detail.

This piece has good color and drawing.

Zili, with its “cordoroy” appearance looks simple to weave but Marla Mallett points out it must have difficult aspects since with closer examination one can find mistakes in most examples.

Wendel next showed a complete khojin in zili brocade.

A closer look at the bridge of this piece is useful.

The closure loops here are sewn on and there are no slits.  This presses it attribution away from Persia and the Shahsavan.  It is, in fact, attributed to Karabagh.

Wendel’s next piece was also of zili brocade.  It was the complete khorjin set below.

Here is an unobstructed overall view.

A little closer look at the lower face.

Another of its colorful stepped bridge.

This time there are slits as well as loops, a Persian usage.

And here a comprehensive look at its back.

The stepped design in the bridge is in slit tapestry.

Wendel had one more complete khorjin set with basically the same Memling gul field designs as do the zili pieces above, but the faces of this set are unusual in that they are in pile.

There is no closure system, and not really room for one, because the area that would normally form the bridge is so narrow.

Here is a closer detail.

The white ground border frames the colorful field diamonds despite the evidence that the weaver had difficulty drawing the devices on it.

Here is a comprehensive look at its striped back.

Before we look at the next piece Wendel brought in, it might be good to see one I had brought myself.  It is an Anatalian storage bag of the sort referred to as a “ala cuval.”

The striped ends on the opposite sides of the image above would in use be sewn together making a hollow cloth cylinder and then sewn again at the bottom to create a storage bag.  The striped areas are plain weave, while the more richly decorated bands are done in brocade.

Here are two closer details of this brocaded area.

When in use the bands are vertical, as in the first image of this piece above, with the brocaded band in the most visible position.

Now here is the next piece that Wendel had brought.

This piece is mounted and was oriented in this way when Wendel bought it.  So it was not readily apparent what it might have been a part of.  Wendel once produced a sequence showing how he gradually inferred (mostly from measurements, but also from the striping) that his piece is likely one striped end section of a similar, albeit likely older, ala cuval like mine above.  Rather cleve, I thought.

Here is one end of my ala cuval side-by-side, although not to the same scale, with Wendel’s older similar fragment.

It seems to me that you can see a sign of conventionalization from Wendel’s piece to mine in the loss of the narrow stripes.  The colors in Wendel’s fragment also look older.

The next piece Wendel had brought in was this one.

This, many readers will recognize, is a fragment of a famous group of Anatolian pile rugs, the “yellow ground Konyas.”

A great many of these pieces have these large Memling guls and this narrow white-ground border.  But most of them are only two guls wide rather than the three featured in Wendel’s piece.

And Wendel feels that the placement of the guls on his fragment and their integration with the minor ornaments worked to produce a more satisfying “whole” than that projected by most other drawings of this general design.

The next to pieces brought in were Anatolian yastiks.  The first of these was this piece owned by Wendel.

Wendel said that a major reason why he collected this piece was that great amount of purple used in it.

Here is a closer detail.

Wendel said, that Bohmer, with this piece in his hands, estimated that all of the colors are natural, including the strong orange.

I had also brought a yastik and it was treated next.

This piece is of that group of yastiks that seem to have “little rug” designs.  I don’t see a close resemblance to anything in the Morehouse book but if pressed I’d guess it as more likely from eastern Anatolia.

Here are two closer details.

There is purple in both of these yastiks and someone from the audience asked what was the difference between “purple” and “aubergene.”

Wendel smiled, then was thoughtful and said

that these two terms are usually used to refer to the same color, that perhaps “aubergine” was more likely to be employed when one was attributing a more august character to the color.

He said, smiling more broadly now,

that the color on his yastik here was likely appropriately described as “aubergine,” but that that on my piece was probably just “purple.”   

It’s always good to encounter an even-handed evaluation, especially in public.

The next piece shown was this flatweave.

Its bluish red suggests lots of cochineal dye.  Here are two closer details.

It is done in  weftless sumak, a technical some say was used only by the Kurds.

Although cochineal was used in western Anatolia too, its combination with weftless sumak strongly suggests that this piece was woven in eastern Anatolia.

I had brought an Anatolian grain bag and it was shown next.

Bands of brocade alternate with plain-weave stripes.  The side strapes are still attached to this one.  Its back is done stripes.

Here are two closer details of the front bands.

More of these Anatolian grain bags and al a cuvals are being seen now (Marla Mallett, in particular is showing some), but my own view is that they are still not being collected in the numbers that their beauty merits.

Someone had brought in an attractive Baluch bag face.

It features lively colors and good drawing.

Here are some closer details of it.

The “lightening” white-ground border frames very effectively.

The field is very well composed.

And the central medallion is both strong and yet well integrated into the rest of the field design.  It does not compete with or dominate the other field elements.

The next brought-in piece was an older Ferahan Saruk.

This piece was brittle and was handled very carefully as it was unrolled a placed on the display board.  It seems likely  that there is dry-rot in its cotton foundation.

Here are some closer details of this well-drawn piece.

The colors of this piece have also been affected adversely.  Nevertheless, Wendel estimated that it could well have been woven in the 19th century.

Wendel finished with two large pieces he had placed on the front board.

The first of these was this kilim from S.E. Anatolia.  It is woven in two piece that do not quite match in size.

There is a great deal of cochineal red in this kilim

And its brilliant whites are from cotton.

Despite the mismatch of its two halves it is very well-composed and drawn.

Wendel’s last piece in this session was another kilim, this time a Caucasian.

Woven in three pieces, it features and attractive “tile” design and is an example of design likely sourced in geometric or architectural sources.

The weave is brocade and it is attributed to Karabagh.

Again, colors are good, drawing is precise and the overall composition is excellent.

Wendel took a few final questions.

Rugs 101 came to an end, and folks moved to the front.

My thanks for Wendel for permitting me to produce a virtual version of his interesting RTAM program and for the considerable editorial assistance he provided after to get this post up.

I hope you have enjoyed Rugs 101.

Regards,

R. John Howe

Dear folks -

On June 20, 2009, Harold Keshishian, assisted by his oldest son Kirk

gave a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning program here at The Textile Museum in Washington, D.C. on “Small Bags from Persia, the Caucasus and Anatolia.”

In truth, Harold was substituting for a scheduled speaker who had to cancel last moment.  Harold’s collection is extensive enough, and his knowledge and experience is broad and deep enough, that he is one of those the TM can call on for an impromptu program without embarrassing results.

Harold’s conducting of this particular session was fortuitous in another important way.

It happened that the obituary of Anthony Landreau, a former Textile Museum director, appeared that week in The Washington Post.

Landreau was an important member of the TM, both as director and and earlier as a staff member.  He was a real force in what is, rightly, seen to be a very fecund period of the TM’s  history.  It was, for example, during Landreau’s tenure as TM Director that these Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning Programs were initiated.

So Harold took a little time at the beginning of his program (and made some arrangments beforehand) to shine a little historical light on Landreau and some of the results with which he was associated.

We passed out copies of  The Post’s obituary.  It is worth reading.

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Harold had invited Russell Pickering

who was an active member of the central TM group in the late 60s and early 7os.

He asked Russell to speak a bit to this period, and Russ did.

I can’t quote Russ, but I will try to summarize, accurately, some key things he said about this period of TM activity.

One of the seminal events of Landreau’s years at the TM is remembered now primarily as his co-authoring with Russ of the rug world’s first serious treatment of flatwoven textiles.

It’s “beetle bag” cover is famous among ruggies.

Russ told me, in a subsequent conversation, that the idea for this title came from Alan Sawyer, who was then the TM Director (Landreau was still a curator).

This title has turned out to be an inspiration, since a number of other authors have adopted very similar ones over the years.  Ready examples include the Richard Wright, John Wertime book on Caucasian rugs and textiles.  Its title is “From Kars to Kuba.”  And more recently Jon Thompson’s catalog for the 75th annivesary exhibition by New York City  Hajji Baba Society (the oldest rug club in the U.S.) is entitled “Timbuktu to Tibet.”  So even Allan Sawyer’s title brainstorm has left its mark.

But this seminal catalog was only  part of the achievement.  It was for an exhibition, first staged at The Textile Museum, but picked up by the Smithsonian in a traveling version (Allan Sawyer’s work here may also not have been adequately recognized) that moved around the country.  Pickering reports that it traveled the U.S. for three years, with a final appearance at  The Asia House  in New York City.

The catalog was a huge publishing success.  The original edition of 1,000 hard cover copies and 3,000 in soft covers was followed by two additional reprints of 3,000 each.

As we said above, and as the obituary notes, the Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning programs were also initiated during Landreau’s tenure.  Harold seems the witness who was best positioned to observe the founding of the RTAM (Pickering reports that he still lived in NYC, although he was in Washington frequently).  Leonardo Contardo, who is also rumored to have been involved in the RTAM programs early, can remember only that he once “washed a rug” in an early one, a feat he said that was considered “brave” in those days.

Harold’s remembrance of the RTAM program’s origin is that it was an idea of Landreau’s that Harold was called upon, mostly, to implement.  Harold says that he and Dennis Dodds and Jerry Thompson and some others gave programs early on.  Whatever, it was a very sound move and its very persistence provides evidence that it has been valued over the years.

Harold’s mention of Dennis sent me to him.  Here’s what Dennis said about his “early days” participating in RTAM programs.

(Ed. Beginning of Dennis’ comments.)

“…My earliest recollection of the TM rug mornings is aided by my collection of daybooks that I have kept as a sort of diary since around 1968.

“On Saturday, April 10, 1976, I record what appears to be my first presentation.  ‘10:3o Rugs of Southern Turkey t.M. lecture.’ I had returned a few months earlier from a trip to Konya and south Anatolia and no doubt used some of my purchases in my presentation.  In my daybook, I also wrote, ‘9:00 select examples.’ This is likely a reference to picking some pieces from the TM collection to augment my talk.”

“This was after Tony had left as Director, but these regular morning sessions have been a continuing source of information and appreciation that needs to be retained and revitalized.  I have probably done a dozen or so over the years, at least, and approach each as a sort of pilgrimage to the TM where I have learned so much and met so many wonderful people who have made such a difference in my life.”

(Ed.: End of Dennis’ comments)

There was a time, during Virginia Delfico’s tenure as the Education Director, when the default objective was that  there would be a free RTAM program on most Saturday mornings.  And she was often successful.

I once put the data on TM RTAM programs for 10 years into an Excel spreadsheet and discovered that Virginia managed most months during her 11-year tenure to arrange  four RTAM programs and in some months she offered five.  It was rare to have only three.  Things have fallen off rather sharply in recent years, but there are still about two RTAM programs offered each month.

I exchanged emails about RTAM origins with Virginia and she wrote that when she was appointed as the TM’s first full-time director of education, “…RTAMs were sacred and it was one of my responsibilities to keep them going.  Jannes Gibson, another member of the Education Department, then, and I introduced textiles to the mix of Saturday programs…”

In my view, the Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning programs are one of the most effective community outreach efforts the TM makes, and can make, but it’s clear that these programs are no longer “sacred” in any sense at all.  To me, the de-emphasis of these valuable and interesting programs in recent years is both mistaken and unnecessary (it costs the TM little to arrange and to conduct them, since they are currently arranged for and conducted almost entirely on a volunteer basis).

A major obstacle to their enjoyment by a larger audience is that the Myers Room is the only room available in the TM that can accommodate such sessions at all, and there are only 65 chairs in it.  That is the reason I devote a little time to producing these virtual versions.  These programs are often too interesting, too good, too valuable to be enjoyed by only 65 people.

Anyway, three cheers for Tony Landreau, for Harold Keshishian, for Virginia Delfico, for Russell Pickering and Leonardo Contardo, and all those who have been involved in various ways in creating and perpetuating the RTAM programs.  Some of us joke a bit (but also not quite) that when a Saturday arrives and there isn’t one, we are hard-pressed to get our weekly “rug fix.”

Now to Harold’s “small bags” program.

Harold said that

he and Kirk had selected a number of small bags, from Persia, the Caucasus, and Anatolia, and that they were arrayed in layers on the front display board and that they would just work through them.

It turned out that some of the pieces they had selected moved beyond the bag format, but, smaller bags, mostly, it was.

They began with the piece below.

Harold described it as a Caucasian bag face, with a diagonal striped design popular in Caucasian rugs (ed. Bennett shows a Genje in his Plate 172).  Harold called attention to the “pinwheel-like” device that decorates the stripes.  Nooter shows some similarly shaped khorjin faces; see his plate 192.  Wertime references two similar pieces to the Qarabagh area.

A second piece was the one below.

This piece was published in black and white as Plate 46 in the “…Bosporus to Samarkand…” catalog.  Harold called it a “plan ahead” weaving, noting that it’s size was determined by that of the loom.  He said that it is a “fine, old” weaving and its wool is noticeably fine.

The next two pieces were treated together.

Harold said that these two pieces are reverse sumak and that both are fine, well-executed and older.

The next piece was an unusual one.

Harold said that it is rare to see this “zili S” (also sometimes “verneh”) in a bag face. ” But,” he said, “if you live long enough, you see everything.”  Harold also pointed to the good color in this piece and to the loop holes in the closure  system (often seen to be a “Persian” usage).  He said that this is another piece with excellent wool.

Harold didn’t say so in this session, but it appears to me that this piece was published as Plate 120 in Wertime’s Sumak Bags. Wertime attributes it to “Qarabagh.”

The next piece was attributed either to the southern Caucasus or to northwest Persia.

Harold said that the stylized “S” figures on pole devices are particularly resplendent on a white ground.   Another older, quality piece with fine wool.

Harold attributed his seventh piece, below, to the Shasavan.

He said that the wool in this piece is extremely fine and invited comparison with a complete khorjin set that is Plate 11 in John Wertime’s “Sumak Bags,” volume.

Harold’s next piece was the end-panel from a cargo-bag type “mafrash.”

He said that this piece is from a rare group identifiable by extremely long-beaked birds.

Harold pointed also to the presence of a rare shade of brown used as ground color in this piece.  He said that there are pieces with identical drawing and coloration in “Orient Stars” and Hali 159.

The next piece was another published in black and white in the “Bosporus to Samarkand” catalog as Plate 43.

Harold said that he estimated that this sumak piece was woven in the third quarter of the 19th century or before.  He said that he believes it to be the first use of “fantastic animals” in bags of this sort.

The next piece was this cargo bag-type mafrash side panel below.

This is a beautifully composed piece, with graphically strong latch hook medallions and outstanding colors.

He said that the wool is excellent and that cotton was used in at least some white areas.

Harold said only the need for a little finer weave bars this piece, in his view, from a world-class ranking.

The next piece was the striking one below.

Like the first piece shown above this one has a Caucasian like instrumented diagonal striped field and an over-size border. Probably from Qarabagh as well.  Wertime says the two similar pieces in his field were made and signed by Armenians.

Harold and Kirk now took us to a complete khorjin set that had been opened up at the sides of its compartments.

Here is an unobstructed view of its full length.

Here is a detail of one of its pile panels.

A closer corner of one.

And a close-up of one of the individual botehs in its field.

Harold said that this piece is above-average Afshar of the Kerman variety because of its delicate all over sophisticated drawing.  More interesting, is the fact that the panels are the same size as many textiles and rugs that are represented to collectors as being mafrash side panels, when when the elogated shape of this bag is the same size as that of many khojins.  This brings light to the fact that collectors should be cautious of assuming a particular format.

The next piece was the Baluch khorjin face below.

It was followed by another Baluch with a “tree of life” field design.  This balisht is one of the finest of its type.  The wool quality and weave are as good as one in Baluch weaving.  The two end panels are a mixed flatweave entirely of silk.

The following piece was still another Baluch with an attractive “stars” design.

Harold said that this piece is the oldest, finer Baluch he has seen. The use of white is especially effective in this piece.

The next piece was a Turkman khorjin.

It has good color and is well composed and drawn.

Until recently, such a piece would have been described as “Ersari,” but now a “Middle Amu Dyra” designation would be more likely.  The khorjin is a relatively rare Turkmen format.

Here are some closer details of this attractive piece.

The next piece shown was another Turkmen, this time a fragment of a large torba.

This handsome fragment is from either a nine-gul or a twelve-gul Tekke torba, both of which are less frequent than the six-gul variety.

Here is a closer look at its major gul.

Pinner once did an analysis of the internal instrumentation of Tekke torba guls (which interestingly are usually larger than Tekke chuval guls), but I don’t have ready access to it as I write, but in his comments on Tekke torbas in the Rickmers Collection, he seems to place this gul center as among those more frequently seen.

The surrounding instrumentation of it does appear to exhibit some pretty clear “animal head” devices, the sort of thing that goes away quickly as designs become conventionalized.

That drawing, the colors in this piece, and Pinners indication (again in his Rickmers discussion) that the Tekkes seem to have stopped weaving the torba format about 1850, suggest that it was woven earlier than that.

Harold said he picked this fragment out of a large trash pile and was given to him.

Next, Harold treated two sumak panels seemingly from the same cargo-bag type mafrash.

Here is a large detail of this side panel.

And a closer look at a vertical slice of it.

And here is the end panel by itself.

These two panels are similar enough to Plate 50 in Wertime’s Sumak Bags volume to be from the same complete mafrash.

Harold said that strangely, this particular design seems to come to the market with a super-white ground, for pieces of their apparent age.

The next piece was a single sumak mafrash side panel with an instrumented diagonal stripe design.

Here is a closer vertical slice of this panel.

Harold didn’t mention it, but this piece is very similar to Plate 102 in Wertime’s Sumak Bags.

The next two pieces are also from a cargo-type mafrash.  Harold owns three of the four pieces that comprised it.  He brought two of them to this session.

The end panel above, appears as Plate 1 in John Wertime’s Sumak Bags. Here is a closer, isolated look at it.

Wertime describes it as “…one of the oldest surviving examples of Baghdadi Shahsevan weaving…”  He estimates that these pieces were likely woven in either the second or third quarters of the 19th century.

Here is the related side panel.

And here is a detail of the center of this side panel.

Harold said that he collected the two end panels and one side panel of this piece over 40 years ago and that he will never forget the “horrible, filthy condition” they were when they came to him.

He said that there is some wear to the cotton and that you have to handle these pieces to appreciate the workmanship in them.

The next piece was a pile panel from a Bijar mafrash.

This piece measures 2 feet, 2 inches wide and 1 foot,  1 inch in height.  The field design is often called a “gul Farange” and is seen to exhibit French, or at least European, influence.  Harold said that this is an older weaving with great color and condition.

Harold has a second Bijar bag face with a “gul Farange” variant field.

It has a very effective dark ground field.

This piece measures 2 feet by 3 feet, has very fine wool, great colors, and “all over” drawing.  Here is a closer detail of it.

Harold had two more pile mafrash panels, with “lightening bolt” designs on a different plane than that on which their floral elements float.

Here is the first one.

The small scale border frames its field effectively.  Here are two closer details of this piece.

The second of these two “lightning bolt” pieces was the one below.

Harold said that the only other example of this design of which he knows was a piece in the Bernheimer collection sale.

The next piece was the Afshar grain/salt bag below.

Note that this is not an “over all” design, but one in which color usages create diagonals slanted to the right.  Harold said that in all modesty he thinks bag is outstanding.

Here is a closer detail that lets you examine its merits.

Next Harold treated a series of smaller bags among those he had brought.  He wanted to draw attention to the fact that they often had very good backs and so had them placed on the display board with the backs out.  I didn’t get an unobstructed shot of them all but you can see Harold’s idea in the image below.

Now I am going to start on the left side of this “backs to the front” array and work to the right.  I will show each back in turn and then their pile fronts (they all have pile fronts).

Here is the first back.

This is an older Qashqua’i bag back in which slit tapestry is used to create a “sawtooth” effect.  There is a narrow band of decoration at the top and what appears to be weft twining at the bottom.

The pile from of it looks like this

The next back was striped.

This is an old Shiraz area bag with good colors and very effective bands of alternating wide and narrow striping.

Here is its pile front.

The next bag was a little larger, at 11 inches by 18 inches, than most in this “backs to the front” series and had a plain red back.

Here is its pile front.

The next piece was the back of a very small tobacco bag in a miniature khorjin shape.

There was still tobacco in this bag when it was collected.  Note the leather edging to protect it during constant use.

Here, below, is the pile front of the back above.

The next piece was 10 inches by 10 inches with very long tassels hanging down.

Here, below, is the pile front of this piece.

The next small bag back was this graphic example.

Harold said that this back of a Shiraz area bag is an example of drawing so well composed and executed that it could carry itself as the primary decoration of this piece without the handsome pile face that it also has.

Here is that pile face, below

(Ed.: In fact, for me, the back is better than the front.)

The last example in this “backs to the front” series was a pair of small bags with relatively plain backs.  Here is the back of one of them.

Turned to the front these two bags become more impressive.

Here they are side by side pile to the front.

Here is a closer look at the one on the left above.

And here is a closer look at the one on the right above.

This pair of pieces has very fine wool and exhibit a strong red-orange.

Harold held up another small bag, this time a complete small khorjin set.

Here is a slightly closer unobstructed view.  This piece is slit tapestry and Harold thinks it was made for a child.  “Daddy has a saddle bag. I want one, too.”

This piece has a less attractive back.

The next piece shown was the Senneh saddle cover below.

Here are some closer details of this piece.

The red line from the end of the saddle void on either side of the rug adds a dramatic touch to the geometry of this handsome work of art.

The next piece was the one below.

This is a small, finely woven piece, but in the world of Senneh weaving it is ordinarly.

The next piece was the one below.  It is an older Senneh, 1850-1860.

Very soft handle (if you take it in your hand it has the feel of velour).

The next piece was another pile mafrash side panel, this time with three diamond forms floating on a version of the Herati pattern.  Also a Senneh.  It has a harder than normal Senneh handle.

Here are some closer details of this piece.

This is a piece that gets better as you get closer to it.

Harold and Kurt next treated two pieces with very similar designs.

The first of these was the famous one below.

Wertime attribute this piece to Garrus.  “this has been recognized as one of the masterpieces of sumak bag art.  This outstanding example of sumak art was acquired Mr. Keshishian, Sr. in Paris in 1922 and give to Harold on his 35th birthday.

Here are some details of this piece.

The larger piece with this boteh field was the one below.  Although very similar seeming it is a Senneh that Harold acquired out of a lady’s trunk about 1960.  It has harder than average handle for a Senneh weaving.  Harold things this firmness is in part due to the fact that it seems never to have been used.

Here is a closer detail of this piece as well.

You can see how similar the drawing of the botehs is.

Next, we turned to a salt bag.  It appears to be a Bakhtiari.

Nice crisp drawing on it flat woven front.  Notice the strip of pile at the bottom.

Here is the colorful back of this piece.

Harold called attention to the fact that the decoration of the neck of  the back of this bag is done from the “wrong” side.   So the side that faces outward is the “back” of the fabric, the side usually not intended to be seen.

The warps from the striped body of this back are continuous into the neck, so it is not clear why the weaver wove the neck area in this way.  Perhaps it is just a mistake, but it seems a rather obvious one to see early on and to have an opportunity to  correct.

Next, Harold had the Baluch salt bag pictured below.

This piece has dates woven into its field that indicate that it is not old, old.  But it is well composed, and borrows and renders some Turkman design devices effectively.  The inscriptions on this piece is in Armenian something Harold says is not as farfetched as it may seem.  There lots of Armenians in Central Asia.

The next two piece were pictorial.

The first of these features some nice rabbits.  Harold thinks this piece is likely a Lavar Kerman.

Among other things, Harold noted that the piece above was acquired in the same lot as the famous Persianate, boteh-field bag face above.

Here are some closer details of this “rabbit” piece.   First, a lower left corner.

Then the field of bunnies.

And a closer view of two of them and the surrounding foliage.

The second pictorial piece is a favorite of Harold’s.  It is the piece below with an image of a sitting cat.

Harold said that there are at least two things to notice about this cat.

First, it’s feet have been dipped in henna (some Persian women used henna, cosmetically, to enhance their beauty) something Harold said indicates that this was a “much loved” cat.

A second oddity is that the cat sports a “Kaiser Wilhelm” mustache.  This suggests that it was woven during a time when things German and especially Kaiser Wilhelm usages were fashionable in Iran.  In one session in which this piece was shown, someone said that a traveler to south Persia in those days noted that many men had “Kaiser Wilhelm-type” mustaches.

One more closer corner detail show the nicely drawn borders on this piece and the simple botehs scattered on its field.

The next piece was the old fragment below.  The Persian call this a ‘naqsh.”  It was usually part of a woman’s pantaloon.  It is likely 18th or 19th century.  It is embroidered with a “tent stitch”

Here are two closer looks at the instrumentation in its diagonals.

This is the end of Part 1 of this virtual treatment of Harold’s “small bags” rug morning.

Members of the audience had brought in a number of pieces and these are treated in Part 2.

To go on with Part 2, use the link that follows:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/08/13/small-bags-part-2-audience-pieces/

or return to the entry page using the link in the announcing email and click the second entry on the right.

Regards,

R. John Howe

Dear folks -

This is the second part of a two-part virtual version of a Textile Museum “rug morning” program that Harold Keshishian conducted with the assistance of his son, Kirk, on June 20, 2009

If you have not seen Part 1, it is probably best to start with it.  You can go to it using the following link:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/08/13/small-bags-part-1-and-the-early-days-of-the-tms-rtams/

this same link is in red at the top of this page or you can return to the blog title page provided in the announcing email and select Part 1 there.

Harold had treated the pieces he had brought in, but there was still a lot of unexamined material in the room.

Harold’s substituting in this rug morning was apparently successfully announced on the TMs’ web site, because the congregants brought pieces and they were, mostly on topic.

The first “brought in” piece was the small bag face below.

A nice field of rectilinear devices well framed by a yellow-ground border.

The next piece was a complete single Shahsevan bag.

This pile design is one of the simplest and yet most sought after among  Shahsevan varieties.  As with most examples of this design, the colors are glorious.

And not just on the front.

The back of this piece, with its wider stripes punctuated by narrow ones with white highlights, is one of those that would send you searching for a way to display it ”in the round,” so to speak, so that both sides of it could be appreciated at the same time.

The next piece was that in the image below.  It may be NW Persian.

This, I think, was its back (things sometimes moved past my camera pretty rapidly).

The following piece was the small bag below.  Everyone was taken by the intensity of the blue in this piece.  Shiraz area.

I am not certain, but think that the image below may be its back.

The next piece was a graphically strong salt bag.

A very effective use of white.  I don’t have an attribution for it in my notes.

Again, I am uncertain, but think that the image below shows Harold holding it with the back partly visible.

The next piece was the bag face below.  SW Persian.

The next was another SW Persian piece with its design seemingly woven sideways in relation to its warps (note the opening at the top of the image above).

I have turned the image above 45 degrees to the left to let you examine this directional design with its elements pointing upward.

The next piece was a complete khorjin set with a long connecting panel.

Here is a slightly closer look at the bottom face in this set. It seems to be Caucasian, maybe made by Armenians.

A simple, effective design.

The next piece was a Shahsevan wallet done in sumak.

This piece is my own. It is 5 inches wide and 8 inches tall. I like its colors and the ability of the weaver to create a pleasing design in a quite small space.

Its back is mostly plain.

The next piece is also one I brought.  It is an Anatolian “cuval” from the Bergama area.

I like its crisp drawing and strong graphics, likely enhanced by a narrow palette.  Like Anatolian grain bags and heybes, I think such “cuvals” are still surprisingly under-collected.

The next piece was also one I had brought in.

Because it is made of one continuous piece sewn up the sides, there has always been a suspicion that it is a “constructed” piece cut down from something larger.

Here is its back.

Its assembly seems to suggest to most who have examined it that it is not “constructed,” but in the mode in which it was originally made.

It has good colors, is woven in a quite coarse sumak and its drawing has an undisciplined character that has suggested to me that it might be Luri.

Harold looked at it

and said that he had not seen a Lori sumak this coarse and that he thought it might be Char Mahal.

A fourth piece I had brought was the small bag below.

This was used as a tobacco bag.  It is 6.25 inches wide and 7.5 inches tall.  It smells of tobacco and had a cigarette paper in it when I bought it.  It is a hard, tight piece of weaving.  It has strong colors and some might see them as from synthetic dyes, but they are stable: there seem no signs of transfer.

But, again, because it is made from a continuous piece of fabric the possibility exists that it is “constructed” from something larger.

I have seen one other piece like this and they are both put together in the same way: sewn very firmly up the sides, with what seems like a hard, thin piece of felt as an intervening layer.

Here are two views of its side, one outside

and one that shows the connection on the inside.

Harold examined this piece again, as we were finalizing this section, and says, looking inside it, he can see that the wefts “return,” that is they are not cut off.  This means that the current width of the piece was that at which it was woven.  So on that score, at least, it seems not to have been constructed.

But the other suspicious thing about this piece is its distinctive end finish.  I have seen something similar before on other Anatolian pieces.  Take another look at the top of this bag, and I’ll show you my comparator.

First, notice that there is a narrow change in design at the top outside edge of this piece that seems to function as a kind of top border.  This narrow design does not occur elsewhere on it.

More, when one looks at the back of the top edge, where it has been turned over, one finds plain-weave in a dull reddish shade, the sort of thing that one would expect if this was the actual as woven top.

What is most suspicious about this bag is the end finish that rises above the turned over top edge.

As you can see, “warps” seem to have been gathered and then wrapped tightly, but then two wrapped sets are tied together toward their upper ends. (The heavier cord looped through these joined sets to close the bag at the top seems something added later.)

Now here is the seemingly similar Anatolian usage I’ve seen.

This is a small Kilim from the Van area.  It is Plate 83 in Ziemba, Akatay and Schwartz’ Turkish Flatweaves. Here is a closer but not sharply focused look at this end finish.

This usage shows that warps that are gathered together in braids are sometimes joined in pairs as in the end finish of my bag.  The description says that the gathering is done by braiding not by wrapping.  But you can see that the general appearance is similar.

Now, earlier, as I was writing the above, I sent these images and my text to an experienced friend.  The comments I received indicate that:

1.  this fabric was likely woven in the Kagizman/Erzerum area of northeastern Anatolia.

2. this specific top end finish is not among those known to be used by any particular group of weavers (although the “gathered warps tied together at the ends” usage does occur, as in my Van kilim example above, the warps are gathered by braiding rather than wrapping).  This wrapping, especially, makes the end finish on my bag suspect as a possible contrived “tourist” flourish.

3.  it is not clear whether what is wrapped are the warps of this piece or whether it is a set of fibers floating horizontally inside the turned over top and brought up periodically and wrapped and cut.

4.  the distance between the wrapped column is noticeably great, again calling into question whether the what is wrapped is really the warps.

I could resolve this “are the wrapped cords really the warps?” question about this piece or are they something else floating along the turned over edge, but I’d have to take it apart to tell for sure.  (So far what I can see peeking under what can be lifted with needle nose pliers is inconclusive.)

As I write I think the chances are about 50-50 that this is a constructed piece with a contrived “tourist” top, the wrapped areas of which are probably not its gathered warps.

I am not as offended by this possibility as perhaps I should be.  My fall back position is that traditional weaving communities are enormously practical, that most formats had multiple purposes, that someone in a traditional weaving community who needed a tobacco bag would likely be unembarrassed if the one produced had been constructed from a convenient piece of something else, just wide enough, that happened to be about.  If the latter is the case for this bag, then it could be “constructed” without being an instance of “tourist kitsch.”  And the visible turning of the wefts reinforce this possibility for me.

The only features I can see that may undermine my fall back thesis are: 1) that the top edge finish is wrapped rather than braided; and 2) that it is not certain that the warps continue to make these wrapped protrusions.  It may be, as we noted above, that the fibers forming the wrapped protrusions float horizontally inside the turned over top edge and are brought out periodically and wrapped and cut.   Usages with a generally similar appearance do occur in eastern Anatolian kilims and it could be, even if the protrusions are not the warps, that a weaver, making a family member a tobacco bag, simply tried to emulate a usage that exists in her areas weaving vocabulary.

But also maybe not…

Oh, well…

The next piece was a very attractive salt bag.  Probably south Caucasus or NW Persian.

This slit tapestry piece has great color and graphics.

Here is its back.

The next piece was a another small, pile, bag face.  Again, likely Shiraz area.

I find this a very attractive piece.  The colors are rich and deep and the white ground border,  although a bit gauche, works to frame the piece well.  I only regret that I didn’t get all of what seems like a colorful back into my photo of it.

Next was a khorjin half.

Again, nicely composed and executed.   Notice the closure slit area treatment.  It appears to have a back, but I wasn’t able to photograph it.

The next piece was salt bag with an unusual, even a bit funky, design.  Possibly Bakhtiari.

If it is, it seems, oddly, to have a pile front and sumak at the turn on the bottom, the reverse of the more frequent Bakhtiari usage.

Here is what I think is its back.

The next piece was the small bag face below.  Maybe a Shahsevan sumak.

This is a piece that gets better as you get closer to it.  Here is a closer detail.

It’s not fine but very steadily drawn.

The next piece was the one below.  Could be Caucasian.

Another well-composed bag face with good colors and use of graphics.

The next piece was the one below.

Good use of lighter colors and scale.  The blue in the dark ground border gives it life.

The next piece was the complete khorjin set below.  Caucasian.  The drawing of the large medallions smacks of the Lori Pambak Kazak.   Signed in Armenian.

The long image above permits examination of the whole.  Notice its  connecting slit tapestry bridge and closure system, its funky drawing, its ground color changes, and animal forms.

Here is a closer look at its inscriptions.

The next piece was a balisht format bag.

It is well composed and drawn.  Here are some closer details of it.

First is a corner that lets you better see its border systems and selvedge treatments ends and sides.

And the image below shows its field devices.

There are some very bright colors in this piece, but notice also an unusual maroon or wine.

The next piece was an Anatolian bag with a kilim design.  It has mixed flatweave techiques.

Here are some closer looks at the devices at its center.

The next piece was the complete khorjin half below.  Possibly Afshar.

Again, carefully composed and executed.  Notice how the slight tendency toward the curvilinear in the white-ground main border works to counter and to relieve, somewhat, this design’s mostly rectilinear elements.

Here is a glimpse of its back.

It appears to be mostly red plain-weave with an occasional stripe.

Here are some closer details of its “face” side.

First, a upper left corner that lets you see its borders and closure system treatments above its pile field.

And below is an isolated view of one of its field devices.

The next piece was the flatwoven Balouch salt bag below.

Here is its back.

Notice the seeming purple shades.

The next piece was a sumak side panel from a cargo-bag type mafrash.

Here is a closer detail of a central vertical slice of this piece.

The penultimate piece of the day was this complete salt bag.

A simple design but with good graphics and color.
Here is a closer vertical slice from one side.

Harold noted that many salt bags have been cut down from larger pieces, but we can see that this one was woven directly in the salt bag format.

Harold had held back as his ending piece a complete khorjin set published, as Plate 104, in the “Bosporus to Samarkand” catalog in 1969.

Someone has taken good care of it.

Here are some closer details.

A very high quality piece.

Harold answered questions

and adjourned the session.

The migration to the front of the room began.

There were lots of things to look at more closely and to get your hands on.

My thanks to Harold, and to his son Kirk, for being willing to have me produce this virtual version of their nice program.  They, and Harold’s wife Melissa, also gave me lots of editorial assistance after as we passed materials back and forth via computer.

Russ Pickering provided lots of useful memory of the Landreau years, the “Bosporus to Samarkand” exhibition and catalog, and the origins of the RTAM programs.

Leonardo Contardo bought my wife and I brunch as he talked about his memories of Textile Museum doings in the early days.

Dennis Dodds, consulted and wrote me, helpfully, from his “day book” references.

Marla Mallett answered my emails helpfully.

One never knows what one will encounter when you begin asking “early days” questions.

At one recent “rug morning” there was an older lady whom I recognized as someone who had been coming to The Textile Museum for years.

“What was the first Textile Museum event you ever attended?” I asked.  “Oh,” she said, “I was first in this building at a rug event before it was a museum.  We were met at the door by a formally dressed, black butler who served us martinis.”

Now there’s a lady who has some real “early days” stories to tell and if I can identify her (lots of us at “rug mornings” are familiar strangers and have only faces for reference) I will talk to her more to see what she can remember.

I hope you have enjoyed this virtual version of Harold’s nearly impromptu RTAM on “small bags.”

Good job, Harold.  Both during and after.

Regards,

R. John Howe

FLASH!!! An Addendum

I do not permit direct comment to the posts in this blog, but sometimes someone will write me with a comment on the side that is too good not to share.

I received the following note and images from Alberto Boralevi, the Italian rug and textile dealer and scholar.

Dear R. John Howe,

I am regularly receiving your email messages and I want to thank you for them.  Your blog is very interesting and informative and it is a real pleasure for me to have the opportunity of following the talks and presentations at the Textile Museum.  Living in Italy, I would not have the possibility of attending these Rugs and Textiles Appreciation Mornings, but reading your blog and looking at your beautiful pictures is like being there!

The latest ‘Morning’ you have recently posted is particularly interesting for me.  It was devoted to Harold and Kirk Keshishian’s presentation of “small bags.”  I was really amazed by the number of different types presented and I think I have never seen before such a large and complete collection.

All the pieces were correctly attributed and very well discussed from the point of view of the weaving techniques, but I think I can add a little bit of information, at least, on one piece of yours that you have published in the second part: the small ‘tobacco’ bag with what you call a distinctive end finish.

I know quite well this kind of flatweaves, having been studying and collecting them for years.  I also published a small brochure/catalog of my collection (Grembiuli Dalmati – Dalmatian Aprons) that I will be pleased to send you.

You will be surprised to learn that your bag was not woven in North-Eastern Anatolia as suggested, but much closer to me in the hinterland of the Adriatic Coast of Dalmatia (formerly Yugoslavia and now Croatia).  It is in fact a small bag (locally called torbiza) woven as part of the traditional costume of Dalmatian peasants.

It might have been used for tobacco and cigarettes as you wrote, but not necessarily woven for this purpose.  The name “torbiza” is definitely not of Slavic origin, but Turkish, deriving from the better known Torba, meaning bag, as you know.  The kilim technique (mainly slit tapestery) and most of the patterns can be associated to the Turks as for many other flatweaves woven in this area that has been under the control of the Ottoman Empire for centuries.

My research was mainly addressed to the traditional kilim aprons of women costumes (called pregace)

but I have been able to find also a couple of bags, one of which is very similar in shape to your once and with the same peculiar tassles, although it is larger than your one.

I attach herewith some pictures for better explaining to you what I mean.  I apologize for the bad quality of them but, I am presently on vacation and I don’t have any better image stored in my laptop.  If you are interested I can send you better images when I will be back at work next week.

(Ed.: I have used most of the images Mr. Boralevi provided in the text above.  Here, below is one additional that he sent with this email message.  It is labeled “Boralevi apron wall.”)

Mr Boralevi ended his email by saying:  “I hope that you understand that I wrote you just to add some information I gathered and not to criticize your work that is really admirable.

With kindest regards,

Alberto Boralevi”

(Ed: This is the kind of response that suggests that the work required to produce this blog is well worth the effort.

My thanks to Mr. Boralevi for this very interesting further information and comment.)

Regards,

R. John Howe

On March 28, 2009, Bill and Sondra Bechhoefer

gave a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning program on Tunisian rugs and textiles.

Bruce Baganz, the President of The Textile Museum board of directors,

introduced the Bechhoefer’s, saying, in summary, that Bill is an architect and a retired, Emeritus Professor of Architecture at the University of Maryland.  He and Sondra have traveled widely, and lived in Tunisia during their Peace Corps days.  They have collected eclectically for a number of years, and Bill has served on the Textile Museum Advisory Council.

Their presentation on Tunisian textiles, here, is of special interest, because they know the geography first hand and can speak to questions of attribution with more confidence than most of us often can often manage, having seen textiles and rugs in the places where they were woven and used.

Bill began with a Power-point-assisted lecture.  They have provided me with a CD of it and I have used it generously in what follows.

One real difference:  Bill was often able to present several images in various justapositions on single Powerpoint slides.  Since wordpress limits me to a max width of 450 pixels, I have had to present most images in vertical sequences in order to retain comprehensible size.  This means that, sometimes, I cannot provide the sort of side-by-side image presentation that is most useful in some situations, but I can manage any length of vertical presentation, and hope that difference in orientation is not too distracting.

In their title slide Bill and Sondra acknowledged the sources on which they have drawn in this lecture.  They are:

Irmtraud Reswick, Traditional Textiles of Tunisia and Related North African Weavings

Centre des Arts and Traditions Populaire, Les Costumes Tradionneles Feminins de Tunisie

Favrod and Rouvinez, Lehnert & Landrock, Orient 1904-1930

Note:  One does not encounter books on Tunisian textiles frequently, but a search on the Advanced Book Exchange site for “Tunisian textiles,” yielded at least one of the books above and some others, all currently available.

http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/SearchResults?kn=Tunisian+textiles&sts=t&x=51&y=18

A separate search on Reswick’s name, alone, brought the following listing:

http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/SearchResults?an=Irmtraud+Reswick&sts=t&x=60&y=12

Bill began with the map below.

There is not room for explicit “country” labeling of it here, but Tunisia is that “wedge” on the Mediterranean sea, between Algeria and Libya.  Its city of Tunis does get specific mention, and the location at a strategic point in the Mediterranean accounts in part for the multiple cultures that have occupied the country.

Next, Bill provided a brief, compressed treatment of Tunisia’s long and varied history.

He divided it into three broad periods.

First, he said, the Berbers are seen by some to stretch from as far back as 6,000 BCE to the present, and they are of great importance for textiles.

In 814 BCE, the Phoenicians of Carthage were in Tunisia and Rome was, subsequently, there, as well, with the Punic Wars ending in 146 BCE. The Vandals arrived in 439 CE and the Byzantines in 534 CE.

A second broad period of Tunisia’s history is taken up with the Arab Conquest in 670 CE and with the various , subsequent Arab and Berber regimes that included, the Ummayads, Aghlabids, Fatimids, Almohads, and the Hafsids.

A third period of Tunisian history, is marked by the arrival of the Ottomans in 1574.  Tunisia was under strong Ottoman influence until the mid-19th century.  In 1881, it became a French protectorate (there is some overlap between the Ottomans and the French, since the former empire continued in some form into the 20th century).  Tunisia finally achieved its independence  in 1956.

The postcard below, Bill said

is a “French orientalist” composition from the early 20th century.  Despite its intended exoticism, it tells stories of the cultural overlays that exist in Tunisia.  In it we see indigenous plain weave, some striped klims (ed. Arabic  transliteration), with some Berber decoration in front of Andalusian architecture.  The “eagle Kazak” is a mysterious inclusion, and he speculated that it was a “prop” from the photographer’s studio.

The two photos of the city of Tunis below also reveal historical overlays in the architecture.

There are North African, Ottoman, Colonial and Modern buildings.  Note the cathedral in the photo below.

Bill said that the image below is of the el Mnouchi family, their first textile collecting mentors in Tunisia.

They were not always accurate regarding provenance, but had access to a variety of quality examples.

Tunis has an “urban” culture.  Its textiles have a strongly Ottoman character, as shown in the 18th century wedding dress below.

The textile below is in velvet and gold, and strongly Ottoman in character.

The image below is of an everyday 20th century “safsari,” woven in wool, cotton or synthetics.

The safsari as an outer covering has a long history, as shown in this early 20th century view of Tunis.

But by the mid-20th century, the black veil was rare.

The merchant in the image below exhibits typical male dress. 

He wears a white djebba and a red felt hat, called a “chechiya.”  Such hats are remanents of the fez.  (The fez is now for tourists.)  The djebba is the traditional everyday outer garment for men, and can be in cotton, wool or synthetics.

The image below in the Chechiya Souk in Tunis has some hat shops visible on the left side.

This embroidered djebba is for special occasions and can be of cotton, wool, or silk.

The image below is of a calligrapher in Tunis.

We are looking at examples of Ottoman turga and figural calligraphy.  Some of the designs, like those in the border, find their way into rugs.

This vintage photo of a weaver prepares us for our move into Tunisia’s countryside.

First stop: Kairouan.

 Kairouan has been known for its silk, cotton and linen fabrics since the 8th century.

Its most important pilgramage site is the Grand Mosque, which in its current form dates from the 13th century.  Seven pilgramages to Kairouan is said to equal one visit to Mecca.

The image below shows one of the arcades surrounding the main court; all the columns and capitals were scavanged from earlier Byzantine and Roman buildings.

Zaouia Sidi Sahab, 17th century, showing typical Kairouan pile carpets in use.

Pile carpets in Kairouan are decendents of Anatolian imports in the 17th and 18th centuries, and such rugs were first made in Kairouan in the 18th century.

 Typical Kairouan type rugs.  Man is wearing a safsari to cover his shorts and short sleeves.

Today most wool is imported, and since the beginning of the 20th century dyes have been almost entirely synthetic.

The exception is for pieces made for home use like the shawls of the South, where local wool and natural dyes are used.

“Zarbia” rugs, as shown below, are the most typical Kairouan pile rugs. 

Their designs feature double “mirhabs,” eight-branched medallions, bouquets, roses, and kufesque borders.  They have symmetric knots and through the 19th century handspun wools and natural dyes were used.

In the 60’s there was a creditable French effort by the Office Nationale de l’Artisanat to research traditional motifs, but there has not been follow-up, ala a DOBAG-type effort to begin again to use handspun wools and natural dyes. Examples, as above, can be finely woven, but are over-reliant on cartoons, which limits the freedom and improvisation of the weavers.

In about 1913, one family, responding to dissatisfaction with the quality of wool and, especially, of dyes invented the “alloucha,” initially a rug made in natural shades of white, beige, brown and grey wool.  “Allouchas” were later made from dyed wool.

Here are two examples — the first woven traditionally, and the second being Artisanat production using dyed wool to simulate natural wool colors.

Their designs feature rose or kufesque borders, bouquets, reels, assembly and Greek motifs.

Here is a Kairouan zarbia from the early 20th century, which still has a sense of freedom and improvisation.

The orange in the field is from henna, seen here in a local market.

From the 17th century, Tripolitanian Berbers migrated to Tunisia, bringing with them more complex and fine geometries.  The “mergoum” technique was adapted to Kairouan carpets, with results as shown below.

These are flatweaves, woven from the back in weft substitution weave.

Many mergoums are woven in Oudref, which is further south in Tunisia.  The same motifs are found in jewelry and tatoos. 

In Kairouan and many other places these designs have been adapted for textiles and carpets.

Bill continued with pile pieces from more rural contexts and Berber and Bedouin traditions.

The photo below is of a tent made of goat hair strips called “flij.”   It is loosely woven, but closes up when it gets wet to become water repellent. 

The tent contains a horizontal loom for weaving “flij.”  The rug is a long-pile carpet called a “Qtifa,” a sort found across North Africa.  They were woven by itinerant male weavers called “reggam.”  These were luxury carpets and production was virtually extinct by the mid-20th century.

These two photos are of a tent in Tozeur.

The “qtifa” piece, visible in it , has geometrical motifs associated with the Berber tradition, but they also assimilated other design ideas, such as those from Anatolia, as shown in the example below.

 Here, below, are two more Qtifas.

The one below is an Artisanat effort that exhibits Scandinavian influence in its resemblence to rya rugs.

 Bill concluded this part of his discussion of pile rugs by providing examples of the Anatolian connection visible in the designs in Tunisian rugs.

He showed this detail of a western Anatolian pile carpet

and invited comparison of its designs with those in the three Tunisian pile rugs below.  The first is a qtifa.

The second is a Kairouan zarbia.

The third is a Kairouan type in natural wool, woven in Djerba.  The central motif is said to be an “octopus”.  All three are clearly related to the Anatolian example.

While acknowledging that design similarity alone does not absolutely indicate influence, Bill noted that in the case of Tunisia, the Ottoman import of rugs is well established.

Bill now moved to treat the Sahel area of east central Tunisia, including El Jem, Mahdia and Jebeniana.

It has a flat landscape with olive groves and water control.

There was a Roman presence here, as shown by the coliseum in the photo above, and mosaics in the photo below.

Its colliseum is the second largest after Rome’s…and better preserved.

The piece below is a shawl from El Djem known as a “mouchtiya,” in  the Berber tradition.

The earliest examples of such shawls have simple stripes, but they have become more complex over time.

These shawls are woven in black and white cotton on wool and are subsequently dyed red.  Cotton resists the red dye and remains white.

Here is another of this type that the Bechhoefer’s own.

A closer look at a detail of the piece above.

Bill drew attention to the orange henna markings on these pieces, saying that it is not known why they were put on –possibly for good luck , or simply to make the pieces sparkle.

The piece below is termed a “Wazra.”  It is a kind of blanket.

The garment below is from “El Djem.”  

Bill pointed to the embroidered ends of the shawl.

Here is the back of another piece, which is striking because of the red/black division of the ground.

It is silk and gold on wool with sequins.

This is the coastal town of Mahdia.

Square, gridded fabric, such as in the costume below, is found from here and farther south, and is often silk.

The costume below is from Ksar Esouf, which is near Mahdia.

The example below from the Bechhoefers’ collection is silk and gold on wool.

Some of the designs are similar to those on the el Djem examples.

There is conjecture about whether the round design devices represent oil lamps.  Bill suggested that the artist Paul Klee must have seen such things in his travels in North Africa.

Still further south and on the east coast is the city of Sfax.

This is a classic Arab-Islamic city on a Roman “castrum,”  or military encampment.  Sfax and Redayef , which is to the south and west, are in different regions, but are linked by the phosphate mining industry and migrations of Tripolitanian Berber mine workers. Therefore, textiles and carpets in the 2 places have affinities and can be discussed together.

Below a French “cordon sanitaire” separates the old Arab city from the newer French Colonial city.

The images below are of the Sfax “medina,” a term used to describe the old sections of Arab cities in North Africa.

Sfax is known for its blankets and shawls.  High standards of wool and craft are exhibited.  Saddle makers were active well into the mid-20th century, but today there is less need.

Here are some Sfax textiles.  The piece below is a Sfax shawl, white and black on white with “jewel” dots of color. The design language of Sfax is similar to that of El Djem and Jebiniana, although the open areas are more prevalent in Sfax and further south.  This piece was collected by the Bechhoefers and is now part of The Textile Museum collection.  The cushions are probably from Jebiniana.

The piece below is a Sfax shawl produced for the Artisanat.

The next piece below is a “klim-mergoum” woven by Tripolitanians who migrated to Sfax and Redayef in the early 20th century.  It was not necessarily made in Sfax, but is associated with it because of these phosphate workers.

Now we move to the western side of Tunisia and slightly south of Sfax to Redayef.  These weavers are a particular group of Berber phosphate workers.  Here are two Redayef weavings.

Bill said that the larger motifs are possibly the result of influence by nearby Gafsa and Sidi bou Zid.

In the next sequence of images we move to Gafsa proper, including Sidi bou Zid and Tozeur.

Gafsa is an oasis in contrast to the austere landscape that surrounds it.

Below is an urban courtyard house.

There is also a Roman bath.

Gafsa is known for its blankets and klims.  References to textiles from  Gafsa often include those from Sidi bou Zid and Tozeur.

The town of Tozeur has distinctive brick buildings.

Here are some images of its market.

Notice the brickwork above the klims in the image below.

 Tozeur weavings are flatweaves and include those from Sidi bou Zid.  Colors include a shocking pink.  The synthetic dyes used do not age gracefully.

The piece below is a “huli” and is five meters long, including two end panels.  The camel caravan is a typical motif.

In this new example, camel drivers and fish are depicted as well as camels.

The example below is typical of Artisanat production.

There also designs that feature squares, in a type called “ferachiya.”

The older examples of this design had a softer palette.  It is often commercially produced now.

The piece below is a typical Gafsa kilim.  It has a white ground with “caravan” and field designs, among others.

“Eye dazzler” designs are also produced in this area, and are principally associated with Sidi bou Zid.  Here, below, are two.

This second example, below, is new production.

We move back, now to the east coast, to the island of Djerba.  Djerba is at the deepest indentation in the map below, between the words “GABES” and “Matmata.”

Djerba is called “the island of the Lotus Eaters,” from Greek mythology.

It is a place of legend, mentioned in one of the tales of Ulysses and sirens.

It exhibits a unique small scale of building designed to escape the notice of pirates, as well as a response to scarce building materials and the climate.  The minarets of mosques all over the island are in sight of each other, allowing signals to be sent everywhere in case of danger.

There is also an ancient and distinguished Jewish community there.

The buildings below are “fondouk,” often restored for carpet shops and hotels.  They are  a distinctive form of commercial building, also know as “hans” and “caravanseris” in other parts of the Middle East and Central Asia.  Originally, there was commerce below and living above.  

No textiles in the photos are typical of Djerba, although they may have been made there.

To find local products one has to look for local workshops.

This is Djerba silk weaving.

Below is a characteristic studio: the architecture is transverse arches with infill vaults.

The costume below is winter dress, which shows the same gridded fabric we saw in Mahdia.

A Jewish wedding shawl, embroidered in silk and gold  on a similar gridded fabric of raw silk.

There was only one weaver left in 1990.  Such fabric has been replaced by cheaper machine-made versions.

Bill moved next to treat the Matmata region.  It includes Chenini, Medenine, Douiret and Tataouine. 

This is the edge of the Sahara, where the culture is predominately Berber.  The landscape below shows underground houses.  Vegetation grows where water is captured in depressions and valleys.  

Some of the finest Tunisian textiles come from this area.

Building underground is an excellent climate response, later emulated by the Romans at Bulla Regia.

Here are some example of older and newer living rooms.

Many Tunisian women have tattoos, and the designs are the same as those found in the weavings.

And below is an older image showing similar dress.  The safsari, however, is not typical of the south, but was used by the photographer who posed the subject in Tunis.

And a closer detail of this same image.

The tatoo design vocabulary is pervasive.  The designs appear in jewelry and pottery, as well as in textiles.

Tunisian women often wear head covers to protect shawls from hair oils.

These headcovers are termed “tijara.”  Here are two from Matmata and Douiret.  The Matmata example uses tie-dyed henna stains, while the Douiret example has embroidery applied on top of the woven designs.

 This is a grain sack from Medenine, north of Matmata.

This textile is woven in strips.

Below is is a closer detail of the piece above.

 Bill said this was a hitch-hiker who got them to Toujane.

The houses there blend with the landscape.

 These shawls from the Matmata region are termed “bakhnug.”

These shawls are woven with white cotton on white wool.  They are dowry pieces and are dyed only after marriage.  It is said that white is for young women, red is for mature and blue is for older women; however, there are enough variations on this idea to merit further investigation. [A similar color symbolism seems to be practiced by Turkmen who wear the chyrpy, although white, in the Turkmen usage, seems honorific, and is awarded to mothers (only) over 60 seen to merit it.]  

The shawl below is from Toujane.

A detail of the piece above.

Here is the front of one of these shawls dyed red.

Here is the back of a related piece.

Chenini foum Tataouine

Houses are built into the hillside, as well as on it.

Some of the best pieces come from this area.

These shawls, both blue and red, are covered with beautifully woven decoration.

Bill ended his lecture showing several examples of such pieces.

Bill and Sondra owned the piece below.  It is now part of The Textile Museum collection.

Here are some additional closer details of it.

Bill ended his lecture saying that these Chenini pieces, in particular, deserve to be better known and appreciated.

We next moved to examine some of the material in the room.  Because there are so many images in this lecture, I have, again, placed our examination of the pieces in the room in a separate post.   To see it go to the following link:

 http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/06/03/tunisian-rugs-and-textiles-part-2-the-pieces-brought-in/

Regards,

R. John Howe

Dear folks -

This is part 2 of a Rug and Textile Appreciation Morning on Tunisian Rugs and Textiles, given by Bill and Sondra Bechhoefer at The Textile Museum, here in Washington, D.C. on March 28, 2009.

The first part of this program was a Powerpoint-assisted lecture and, if you have not seen that, it might be particularly advisable in this case, given that Tunisian textiles are not encountered that frequently, and the Bechhoefers provide a useful introduction to them, rooted in their own experiences living in Tunisia in the late 196os.  To go to the lecture, use this link:

http://rjohnhowe.wordpress.com/2009/06/03/tunisian-rugs-and-textiles-part-1-the-lecture/

The Bechhoefers had brought some of their own collection to be seen and examined “in the fabric.”  All of their “brought in” pieces were treated in the lecture, so further descriptions of them, here, will often be brief.

The pieces were treated as they were arrayed on the display board in the front of the Myers Room, and so do not follow the sequence of the lecture.

In fact, Bill began with a red shawl treated near the lecture’s end.

It is from Ksar Essouf, near Mahdia, and is similar to pieces woven in El Djem.

Here, again, are some closer details of it.

The piece is silk on wool and is about 5 meters long.  You will recall that some see the round designs as “oil lamps,” inspired by Roman oil lamps that would have been in the area.

The next item was a shawl from the eastern island of Djerba.  This piece was thought to be a Jewish wedding shawl.  It is raw silk, with silk and gold embroidery.

Some closer details of the piece above.

The shadowy figures in the dark area above get a little clearer.

As do the color usages in the lighter ones.

A third Bechhoefer weaving was the one below.  This “tajira” is similar to one of two headcovers shown in the lecture, woven in Matmata in the south. 

Here are closer looks at one corner and at its field.

The orange/yellow spots are the result of tie-dying with henna.  Many of us are fearful of bright oranges, but, for me, in this piece, regardless of their source, the orange highlights function positively, giving a pleasing, electric character to its aesthetics.

The next Bechhoefer piece was this “bakhnug” shawl from Toujane, in the Matmata region.

 If you watch these blog posts, you will likely remember seeing this piece before. 

The Bechhoefers loaned it to Jeff Krauss and me when we were working on our RTAM on “Blue.”  There, it was noted that such pieces are woven cotton on wool, but white on white, and the intricate designs that are woven into them 

only become visible after  dyeing  (here with indigo) because wool and cotton take in the dye to markedly different degrees and the cotton areas remain nearly “white.”

I used images of it again in my recent post on “Easy to Weave; Hard to Weave,”

as an example of something woven in one color that is likely not easy to weave, since there is no color difference (only texture) to help guide one’s weaving actions while drawing these small-scale intricate designs.

To me, this is an impressive, stately piece of weaving.

The next textile treated in the room was this shawl from the Sahel area of central Tunisia, probably from El Djem.

More intricate patterning and orange henna highlights.

Here is a closer corner of this weaving.

And a closer detail of its field.

 A sixth brought-in textile was this colorfully playful Gafsa end panel from a longer blanket, or “huli.”

Bill suggested in his lecture that older pieces of this type have a softer palette.  Brighter colors and some visible color transfer suggest that this one is somewhat younger; the newest examples are much brighter than this.

The color combinations often used in Tunisian pieces are not those that many of us would put together ourselves.

A bright orange with maroon and pink would seem to tax the notion of analogous color usage a bit.  On the other hand, some 13th century Anatolian rugs use oranges and color combinations most collectors of today would reject.

Note that the use of dovetailed tapestry makes it possible to draw with long vertical color changes.

I don’t think you can claim, legitimately, that these Gafsa klims are not “happy rugs.”

The next piece was produced in Oudref, in the south, but the “mergoum” technique also influenced Kairouan production, as well as other regions.  In his lecture Bill noted that in the 17th century, Tripolitanian Berbers brought more complex and fine geometries to this part of Tunisia.

This piece was made using weft substitution.

Bill noted that they are made from the back, and I think these are like the Moroccan pieces woven in weft substitution in which it is at least remarkable, if not mysterious, how the weavers know what they are doing when they can’t see the design at all.

But it’s clear that they have assured indicators that they follow because they produce these fine, intricate designs with great precision.

The next textile was a grain sack from Medenine.

Note the inclusion of whimsical detail.

The next textile was the one below.  It’s origins are not entirely clear, but it is similar to other klim-mergoum carpets associated with Sfax.  The dealer who sold it to the Bechhoefers described it as “nomadic.”

The handle is very stiff, with a feeling like canvas.  The dealer suggested that it would resist the bite of scorpions when put on the ground in a tent.

The last textile was brought in by a member of the audience and is shown below.

It is a very fine “baknug” from Chenini, and represents some of the best weaving in Tunisia.

Like other pieces from the region is is woven in white cotton on white wool, and subsequently dyed red.  The wool ground takes the dye more thoroughly than the cotton, resulting in the contrast.

Wool for these pieces is local and hand-spun, with natural dye — probably madder.

The extraordinary skill of the weaver and the quality of the overall composition make this piece exemplary.

 The session came to an end, and participants moved to the front of the room.

Sometimes there are impromptu mini-show-and-tell events in the room after these programs. 

One lady had brought an embroidered dress that she did not bring out during the program because she did not know whether it was Tunisian.

 Those sitting near her encouraged her to bring it out.  She did and began to point out its features.

I asked her to hold up her dress so I could “take” it.  She got brave and stood on a chair and held it up to make sure I got it full length.

Now I tried for some closer detail.

And even closer.

I don’t think it was decided where it was from, but it was a nice dress (there are embroidered Palestinian dresses that seem similar, but the color palette may have been “off” for that).

I want to thank Bill and Sondra for permitting me to fashion a virtual version of their interesting RTAM program.  Bill gave me a copy of his Powerpoint document and that helped immensely.  They both did important editorial work after to save me from myself.

This has been an especially enjoyable session to work on.  I hope you have enjoyed it, too.

Regards,

R. John Howe