This is a bilingual publication. For the farsi, or Persian, text, the book opens at the right and for the English, by Karim Emami, it opens at the left. Each full page illustration in color includes a description of the item in English and Persian as well as a table of technical specifications.
The author "admit(s) ... that he is not a professional scholar; he has been motivated ... solely by his love for the woven artefacts of his native province." Given this statement, I shall not make any critical comments. Some 42 of the 75 items illustrated come from the author's collection: (My) "specimens tracked down and photographed in all the major centres of weaving and carpet-trade in Fars including Shiraz, Firuzabad, Abadeh, Adakan, Fasa and Jahrom ... and in all the nooks and crannies of the carpet bazaar in Tehran." Leafing through the attributions, I was surprised at how many were said to come from Qashqa'i sub-tribes and clans. James Opie, Tribal Rugs of Southern Persia, cites major divisions of the Qashqa'i and the Khamseh. However, Sirus Parham, Hand-Weaves of the Tribes and Villages of Fars, lists Qashqa'i sub-tribes and clans as sources for a great many of his illustrations. As for the rugs themselves, my first thought was that these were second class pieces left behind after dealers and "pickers" had scoured the region. But a relatively few belong in this category.
Several writers have insisted that tribal weaving is dead; the section, "The Tribal Carpet Today," illustrates such hideous pieces that one almost wishes that the rumor had been true. Fasai writes of workshops at Firuzabad and other sites where "tribal" pieces are woven from painted patterns, and he denigrates the use of industrial yarns and aniline dyes and non-traditional designs and colors. It is shocking to see a light purple in a pseudo-Qashqa'i rug.
Woven with Love. Tribal Gabbehs and Carpets from Fars by Mohammad Sadeqi Fasai was published by Negar Books, Tehran, 1992 in hard cover with a dust jacket. No price is given.
In recent years the Near Eastern Art Research Center, under the direction of Russell Pickering, has asserted a leadership role in support of exhibitions, catalogs, and recognition of individual contributions. It is to be commended for these efforts as there is virtually no other institutional support available to groups or individuals wishing to undertake Oriental rug activities. Whether recognizing individuals with the McMullan Award, supporting the symposia of ACOR, or catalogs such as this one, their support has been critical and welcome.
The editor of this catalog notes in his Acknowledgement that "too many scholarly works have been advanced on this subject for any further academic speculation at this time." One then should not read this book expecting any new insights about Caucasian rugs. With commentaries and color plates taking up 96 of the 112 pages, there is not a lot of room left for exposition. Indeed, the chapter on Caucasian rugs is only six pages and provides a brief description of the weaving methods, patterns, dyes and characteristics of Caucasian rugs which may be of interest for those unfamiliar with these rugs but old hat to Caucasian rug collectors.
The pleasure comes in seeing a good representative sampling of most Caucasian pile and flatwoven rug types. They begin with two classical carpets from Mr. and Mrs. Harold Keshishian. The others are 19th and early 20th century examples covering the usual groups of Kazak, Karabagh, Kuba, Shirvan and Talish. There are even a few oddities such as Plate 27, another Keshishian rug, with a large cartouche covered with a religious inscription and surrounded by French Savonnerie type borders. It is attributed to Kuba. It was also brave for the curators to include an Avar rug, Plate 38. I say brave because none of these pile rugs appear to predate synthetic dyes and Caucasian collectors appear to shy away from them. This one has the most impressive of the medallions seen in these rugs and is the reverse of the most typical color placement -- blue medallion on a red field. Bravo to the anonymous donor.
Although only six in number, the flatwoven items show not only variety of pattern and color but the variety of techniques employed in this region. Perhaps the most interesting of these is Plate 39, a virtually square rug (7'10"x7'9") woven in a triclinium design in both knotted pile and soumak wrapping. It too is from the Keshishians.
This catalog provides the collector with a wide variety of types of Caucasian rugs. There are prayer rugs, Armenian inscribed rugs, bags, covers and miniature rugs. There are Karachov, Sevan, Tree, Star, Lesghi, Bijov, Alpan, Akstafa, Khila, and Saliani rugs here. The Caucasian rug collector who buys all Caucasian rug exhibition catalogs may experience a feeling of déjà vu because 20% of these pieces have been published elsewhere. The others appear "fresh" to me.
Although eschewing "scholarship," it was surprising that the catalog author's only acknowledgement of Richard Wright's extensive work on Caucasian rugs is the citation of an early article of his in the bibliography. The word "kustar," a Wright research contribution, does not appear anywhere in the text or descriptions. But why quibble? As a record of an exhibition, this should be welcomed by most rug collectors.
The Treasure of the Caucasus, Harold M. Keshishian, editor, is published by Near Eastern Art Research Center. It contains 116 pages, 48 color plates, technical descriptions; softbound, it sells for $24.
Most travel books are written by outsiders. No matter how sensitive the vision or elegant the prose, they are reflections on a passing scene. Holly embarked on her first Turkish sojourn alone at age 18, and her subsequent "adoption" in Konya by an educated, upper middle-class family exposed her early on to the warmth of Turkish hospitality. In the two decades since that first wondrous visit, she has learned the language, "explored Turkey's diverse landscapes wearing a variety of hats -- rug merchant, ethnographer, tour guide and gastronomic researcher", and made friends at every level of its complex society.
Several years ago, I had the pleasure of traveling with Holly on a tour through eastern Turkey. Nothing was left unremarked, from the turquoise wing-flash of Abyssian rollers and stacks of blue beehives in roadside clearings to the effect of brown-fleeced sheep on the palette of eastern Turkish rugs. Her excursions into hotel kitchens to superintend the menu and table settings guaranteed memorable meals -- she introduced me to marinated lamb brains, a gustatory delight unsatisfied since -- and one evening in a seaside hotel she regaled us with an impromptu belly dance, skirts and blonde hair flying, which popped the eyes of the Turkish musicians accompanying her.
| Holly Chase in Van, Turkey. Photo by Walter Denny |
Turkish Tapestry, a Traveller's Portrait of Turkey by Holly Chase may be ordered from Bosphorous Books, Box 3452, 3 Ridge Road, Groton Long Point, CT 06340 U.S.A. (Telephone 203-536-2540). Its cost is $12.95 plus $3 shipping and handling; Connecticut residents include 6% sales tax.
The 1990 book, Kilim, Tappeti del Caucaso was followed by a German edition, Kelims, Kaukasische Flachgewerbe in 1992. In 1991 there was Cavalieri D'Oriente, Coperte da cavallo e da sella, in both Italian and English. Surely Sabahi has been among the most prolific writers of rug books, all of which have been well produced and have included a great deal of useful information. Now comes Sumakh, Weft Wrapped Flat Weaves, also in both Italian and English, along with illustrations and descriptive material that make this clearly the most comprehensive and useful source of information on sumakhs available.
The first section, on dragon sumakhs, is particularly useful, as two of the five typical dragon sumakhs are dated -- a rare feature -- and all are almost certainly from the same area. Two other related pieces show more degenerate forms of the dragon designs, and we can derive several valuable lessons from this series. Presumably the latest one, clearly dated 1935, shows some apparently early, archaic features in the design, and it may have been woven substantially after Fig. 7, which has by far the most degenerate design. One sees these pieces given fanciful early dates in auction catalogues, and yet the one dated 1909 (Fig. 1) would appear, on the basis of design, to be the earliest of all. Surely dragon sumakhs are more likely to have been woven around the end of the 19th century rather than the often-given dates around the end of the 18th century.
The next series of sumakhs -- including Fig. 9 through 28 -- is based around more or less degenerate forms of classic Persian patterns, usually the harshang. Again the inscribed dates in unusual abundance are most useful. We learn that four of these specimens were made in 1916-17, 1927-28, 1928, and 1940. These are all pieces that would be taken as 19th century, were it not for the inscriptions; and, as with the dragon carpets, the dates do not appear to place those with the most archaic features in the earliest group and those with degenerate features, often assumed to be late, in the late group. Indeed, the piece clearly dated 1940 would appear, from its design, to be a 19th century piece. Obviously all assumptions about an orderly evolution of design are hazardous here, leading us to wonder just how the designs were supplied to the weavers and how they developed. Was this an indigenous, native art, or were the designs supplied by a workshop? Was there borrowing from the designs of pile weaves, which often appear to be a little older?
Plate 41, showing a most unusual three-panel design, appears to have a date of 1948, which is difficult to fully accept for several reasons. Two of the panels are in the typical "Seischour" style, with repeated rose-like figures, while the larger panel in the classic multi-medallion format. Most of us would probably be surprised to see these two styles woven in the same place, although in this piece it is an undoubtable fact. If any of these pieces appeared as a separate rug and without an inscribed date, however, it would almost certainly be considered quite early.
One of the other sumakhs may be a vagireh, as Sabahi suggests. There is a good example with "Lesghi" stars and another in the design associated with the name Bidjov. Two sumakhs with the traditional S-shaped stylized dragon motifs are also shown.
Sabahi provides a good discussion of the technical features that allow sumakhs to be divided into several groups. He is clear in attributing the bulk of sumakh production to the northern area of Caucasian rug manufacture. The region between Kuba and Darband is particularly associated with sumakhs, and when I visited the Caucasus in 1973, Kusary -- a town north of Kuba -- was identified as being the major source of these fabrics.
We might wonder whether this assemblage of information allows us to draw any broader conclusions about Caucasian sumakhs. In my opinion, considering the many late-dated specimens here, most of which are in all respects typical of Caucasian sumakhs, it seems likely that they represent output of the late 19th century. The manner in which the designs are neither original to the area nor unique to the sumakh technique suggests that it was not an indigenous folk craft, but an industry begun for commercial purposes. I see no reason at all to imagine that the dragon sumakhs are, as a group, any older than those with designs derived from the harshang. Indeed, since there is no evidence of any continuity between the 17th and 18th century Caucasian pile dragon rugs and the dragon sumakhs, it seems reasonable to theorize that the design was re-introduced by professional designers for a series of sumakhs ranging from the late 19th century well into the 1930s.
The usual assumption about flat-weaves is that they often represent an earlier craft, with products more likely intended for local use. The opposite may be the case with the Caucasian sumakhs, which can be described as workshop products.
As for the Sabahi book, however, it seems an excellent way to learn about these interesting fabrics, and I enthusiastically recommend it.
