Joel Greifinger

This is a recent acquisition that has me bewildered.




It has two panels, both with the same field pattern of botehs surrounded by the same borders. The panels are separated by a 4” middle border. The top panel measures 27”x 39” while the bottom is 24.5”x 42”.





I suspect the piece is Afshar, although the “box-blossom” borders are characteristic of bags having a herati pattern that is generally attributed to Sanjabi Kurds.

But, what is it? Since there isn’t any flat woven section between the panels, it seems unlikely to be a mafrash or even a box-top (as portrayed in this archived thread http://www.turkotek.com/salon_00042/s42t1.htm). There are no fold marks or any indication of a previous closure system.

The foundation is cotton and the density is about 96kpsi. I’ve include a picture of the end finish hoping it may provide additional clues.





Thanks for any thoughts and speculations on function or provenance (or anything else).

Joel Greifinger

Patrick Weiler

Joel,

The close up of the back shows what may be "stacked knots" and a very unusual construction. It is difficult to tell if there are any offset knots, but my first impression is Kurdish. I have seen a similar piece (on the market) labeled Kermanshah, circa1890, 164 x 135cm, a bit wider than your piece but of similar design.
The current salon discusses "recent" modifications to traditional "form-follows-function" pieces which have been modified to satisfy transitional commercial production demand. This "may" have been woven by a village weaver using a traditional design to produce a "rug" for commercial sale. On the other hand, it could very well be an item made for a purpose heretofore unknown. The dyes appear to be natural and the age is quite likely late 19th century. The condition is excellent, so maybe it was a one-off spec piece never intended for floor or nomadic use.
I suggest either giving it back to the seller or sending it to me for further analysis.
I will pay the shipping cost.


Patrick Weiler

Steve Price

Hi Joel

I've seen a few pile pieces in this format, too. In one case the seller thought it was the bridge and both faces of a pair of khorjin, but the faces of a pair of khorjin are joined by the long back, not by the short bridge section that is seen when they're in use.

Maybe these things are trappings that hang over a horizontal bar, with one panel visible on each side. Then again, maybe not.

Regards

Steve Price

Rich Larkin

Hi Joel,

Very interesting. I don't know what to make of the faux-mafrash layout. It looks odd, but I find the divider section taken by itself rather attractive, so that helps the situation. Overall, I like the piece, in spite of the unconventional look. As to provenance, looking at the ordinary indicia, it seems to be an even competition between Afshar and Kurd. Of course, both weaving groups comprise a broad range of weaving styles and practices, respectively. In addition, I think there is a fair amount of ethnic mixing between them in some regions.

On the Afshar side, the color palette and field layout are suggestive. On the other hand, the border ornament and the offbeat design approach leans more to the Kurdish side. You mentioned an all cotton foundation; both groups are found to do this, though both are more likely to use wool, particularly in older pieces. Also, it looks single wefted. (Am I right?) That feature isn't one I associate with the Afshar, but many single wefted rugs are attributed to Kurdish weavers. In addition, that finish of the end you illustrated, with the cotton warp ends turned under and the wool yarn twirled through, has the feel of village pieces that might be attributed to Kurdish weavers.

I agree with Patrick that there is something unusual going on in the weaving. By stacked knots, I presume he means occasional doubled knots (vertically) within one shed. It looks like that; or adjacent knots sharing the same warp line; or possibly both. Whatever it is, when I see unusual weaving practices like that, my first thought is Kurdish.

How would you characterize the texture and handling qualities of the rug in general and wool in particular?

Rich Larkin

Steve Pendleton

Joel,
I read the seller's "Afshar?" as "just guessing, red herring." From "different weave," appearant single weft, colors, and end finishes, I thought it was Kurdish, maybe Koliai, anyway somewhere between the Hamadan and Bidjar areas. I thought it was a village rug, for the floor, based on Khorjin or Mafrash designs. The kind of thing a recently settled nomad might make, drawing on familiar forms, the same way that many of the Jaff mats look like adaptations of Khorjin panels and probably never had backs and never were bags. I don't assume this piece is necessarily all that old. Some of these villages were proud of their handicrafts and kept traditional dyes and methods a full generation after the rule-of-thumb cut-off dates. Nice piece, and congrats!
--Other Steve

Wendel Swan

Hello Joel,

I believe your weaving to be part of a saddle or horse cover set from Northwest Persia, probably from the first quarter of the 20th Century. I don’t think it’s Afshar. NWP is about as specific as I would venture.

For the closing plenary session on Mystery Rugs at the Boston ACOR in April of 2006, I showed 3 pieces of a saddle or horse cover set that are strikingly similar to your single piece in that both have rectangles of noticeably unequal size separated by a panel of an entirely different pattern. Compare yours and those three:



Both the field and border patterns and colors are obviously similar.

In the ACOR example, two separate pieces that look like salt bag faces have been placed over a plain striped section (not visible in the photo) of the large piece. The width of the striped section matches perfectly with of the “necks” of the “salt bags” (the flaps). The owner/lender of these three pieces originally believed he had purchased a mafrash, but when he tried to fit the three pieces together in the shape of a mafrash, it just didn’t work. The striped section can up the side and the “salt bag faces” didn’t really make believable end panels. All three of those pieces were finely and precisely woven. The weaver’s evident skills make it virtually impossible that she would have made such gross errors in laying out the pattern for a mafrash.

In the ACOR example, the plain striped section separating the two end panels is wider, both in measurement and proportion, than the blue decorated section in your piece, Joel. However, that only means that whatever passed over that section was also narrower.

The flaps were probably somehow used against the feet or stirrups, but probably not exactly as laid out in this image. There must have been some other weaving connecting the two flaps of the same width as the striped section (or blue, as the case may be).

I recall seeing one other set of these things that look like salt bags advertised in a German auction as part of a saddle set, but I can’t now remember details.

Well, that’s what I think you have.

Wendel

Patrick Weiler

Wendel,

It is an interesting idea that this piece could be part of a horse cover "set".
If it were placed on a horse in the fashion shown, though, it would have to be a rather large horse. The length of the piece Joel shows is approximately 80".
I have a horse blanket which has a length of around 45" not including the straps and these cover most of the back of a horse - except the rump - and there are "rump-covers", although they are not called that.
If Joel's piece were placed cross-wise instead of length-wise, the two panels would drape along the sides of the horse, although the center panel is rather narrow for the width of a horse. And then, what would be done with the "salt-bag" shaped pieces?


Patrick Weiler

Joel Greifinger

Hi Patrick,

The length of my piece is about 56" as Wendel has it configured with the middle strip running side to side. I think you got 80" by totaling the varying widths I gave for the top and bottom panels. (Another trapezoid!)

Hi Wendel,

Your horse cover set theory is intriguing. Looking at the pictures from ACOR 8, it seems to fit the three pieces you discussed (http://www.turkotek.com/mini_salon_00013/blog5/blog5.html , http://www.turkotek.com/mini_salon_00013/ms13_t8.htm). In that case, the flaps ("salt bags") were meant to cover a section of plain striped pile. This makes sense.

Applying this to my piece, I can't understand why the weaver would have gone to the trouble of creating the rather elaborate middle border, with a particularly rich indigo-dyed background, if it was going to be entirely covered by the flaps. Perhaps the strap connecting the flaps was thin enough to leave much of this middle section exposed. Or maybe it was enough to see the handiwork of the middle border when taking the set on and off the horse. There's always some mystery left.

Joel Greifinger

Dinie Gootjes

Hi Joel, Wendel, Patrick,

Intriguing piece, Joel. I would go with Wendel's last suggestion, that the strip in the middle would lie over the horse's spine. The main piece would then lie under the saddle, and be kept in place by the saddle girth. So not a horse cover, but a saddle blanket. The "salt bags" could then very well be a background for the heavy, square Asian stirrup, maybe even held in place by the girth?. As far as I know, Asian riders held their knees very high, so they would not have to hang down as low as with modern saddles. A bit like a racing saddle. Wendel, are there any remains of fastenings on the small pieces? I will look through my horse books if I can find anything like this in old pictures.

Dinie

Horst Nitz

Hi Dinie, Joel et al,

make the spine a book spine. It is to go between the stand and the book: a decorative Koran stand cover. How about that?

Greetings, Horst

Horst Nitz

Hi

this as a quick reference: http://www.metmuseum.org/special/Genghis_Khan/176.L.htm

I have no idea what the idea behind is of displaying the stand half closed; normally it should take a fully opened Koran, laying nearly flat. Given the size of your rug, Joel, it was probably meant for a bigger, mosque size stand - also a somewhat newer one than the one in the MET perhaps .

Given the size I could imagine that it perhaps was never put to practical use. Paralleling the practice with prayer rugs, it may have been kept and displayed solely as a 'token'. I can't recall Koran stand covers ever having been discussed in the literature. It could be a rewarding topic for someone interested to take it up.

Zooming,

Horst


p.s. On second thought: art may go before function in this case, its probably half shut to enable a better look at the side panels .....

Filiberto Boncompagni

Isn’t too big for a Koran cover? Then, admitting there are such huge Korans, there is the problem of the asymmetry. One could discount it as a “tribal” imperfection, but I don’t think such evident, conspicuous imperfection would be accepted for the purpose of covering a book, especially a Koran.

The asymmetry is also against the use of the rugs as a horse cover/saddle blanket with the narrow strip parallel to the horse’s spine… even though probably no one would notice that the panels on the sides of the horse have different sizes.

Using it length-wise, with the wider panel resting on the back of the horse, would make more sense if the asymmetry was intentional (also with an unintentional one, after all) but it would be too long for a saddle blanket and too narrow for an horse cover.

OK - Not that I have much of experience with horses, finding them, as Ian Fleming did, “dangerous at both ends and uncomfortable in the middle”.

Filiberto

Horst Nitz

Hi Filiberto

I love that quotation. It seems particularly true with regard to Icelandic Ponnies (neighbouring thread). About assymmetry and imperfection in the Koran stand cover we need not worry, isn't there the Arabic proverb saying 'God writes straight on crooked lines' or 'deus impar gaudet' as the Latins expressed it?

Horst

Dinie Gootjes

Hi All,

I 'll take the discomfort on an Icelandic horse, just send it here .

Whatever way it fits on the horse, I still go with the saddle blanket. What would Wendel's salt bags be if the main piece were a Koran cover? Bookmarks I guess .

Looking for Persian miniatures in Google Images, I came across the following Mughal picture of an Iranian prince hunting on horseback from around 1750:



That could be seen as something similar to Wendel's set, I think. The following is a Mughal emperor:



I think horses might still rule.

Dinie

Joel Greifinger

Hi Dinie,

Those Mughal horsemen suggest another possible configuration for Wendel's set. It appears that the flaps might go under the middle section of the "blanket". In my piece, that would mean that the decorative middle section wouldn't be covered by the neck of the flaps.



Joel Greifinger

Rich Larkin

Hi Joel,

No, it would be the decorative necks covered by the middle section. Darn! You can't win for losing.

Rich Larkin

Horst Nitz

Hi all,

notwithstanding the fact that the aristocrats on horseback in the images flash some sort of decorative textile, the one under discussion here, except for a roughly similar size, is a different kettle of fish and would be ill suited in the supposed function: it has none of the customary attachments like a slit for a saddle-horn, loops, cords etc. The textile’s foundation is made of cotton. At first this would absorb some of the steam from the horse working under the saddle. After a while the fibre would swell and create an air and moisture barrier in the same way as strands of cotton are used as a caulking material between planks to make a hull watertight in classical boat building. The coarse and stiff back of the rug in combination with salt and steam from the horse, all under a customary rigid wooden saddle frame would probably give it a sore before very long. It would be no surprise if eventually the beastie would begin kicking out when seeing someone approaching it with a saddle pad. Also, the rug would need frequent washing, which is also quite a bore with its cotton foundation and the time it takes to get dry again.

On one occasion I was out among the hills with others in some northern Icelandic district, driving down sheep to the ‘rettir’, the traditional autumn sorting, involving two days in the saddle and sleeping in the open. Under the saddle we used sheepskins or woollen blankets that took the moisture away from the horses backs. The blankets had the advantage of always offering a dry side on refolding. This is the functionality you want in a saddle pad. Felt might be an alternative, or modern fleece material.

It is not a Koran stand cover either, I should think. Filiberto is probably right. It is too big. Covers that line the open wedge of an otherwise plain wooden stand, to save the book from abrasion, I only know of in small sizes. If made for a very big issue of the Koran, in such circumstance, it probably would have been specially commissioned.

But what is it then? I was talking of a kind of pious token further up, and Patrick if I may take the freedom of slightly reframing what he was saying, offered the explanation of it being a sentimental token of a romantic way of being that is no more: nomadism.

Perhaps it is something of that sort. We won’t know for sure.

Horst

Dinie Gootjes

Horst,

You are right. I had forgotten about the cotton foundation.

Dinie

Richard Larkin

Hi Horst,

Excellent! Your horseman credentials are forever established for TurkoTek. It seems as though the pieces may be modeled after a real horse set, much as one finds suits of armor in tourist markets and hotel lobbies, but one wouldn't want to wear them into battle.

Rich Larkin

Marla Mallett

Joel,

I wonder if you have examined your “mystery piece” closely enough to guarantee that it has not been “made up”? You have mentioned that the two panels are slightly different in their dimensions. SO MANY Persian pieces have been cut and re-assembled in all sorts of strange configurations to make them ostensibly more marketable as small rugs. Large Bakhtiari saddlebags are perhaps the best known of these, and most obvious, as they have been re-assembled in a dozen different quirky ways. But this has been done with other Persian saddlebags as well. Also, for many years, mafrash side panels have been combined, normally with a border removed from one section before the pieces were joined to make a small symmetrical “rug.” We’ve seen literally hundreds of these in the markets, all having come from Iran. In recent years, some of these surgeries and re-joinings have been done with such skill that it is very difficult to detect where the warps have been sewn in. It is done in much the same way as when rugs are “cut-and-shut” to salvage pieces damaged in the center. With pile saddlebags one is limited somewhat by the pile direction—thus when two pile saddlebag faces are joined it is only possible to use one of the two former narrow lower panels in the middle.

Best wishes,

Marla

Marla Mallett

I misspoke in the last sentence above, and didn’t state exactly what I meant….Please ignore that.

Even 32 years ago, when Jenny Housego published her book on Persian TRIBAL RUGS, she showed an example of joined soumak mafrash panels and commented that this was a "common Persian practice.” (Plate 17). I’ve shown a slit-tapestry example of that practice on my website VARIETIES OF TRIBAL BAGS page. I’m sorry to not have a photo of one of the truly absurd Bakhtiari saddlebag makeovers.

Marla

Horst Nitz

Hi Richard,

some experience yes, but not really a horseman. Thank you for the flowers anyway.

…” but one wouldn't want to wear them into battle.” Your comparison hits it. Joel’s textile I suggest should probably be best assessed against the background of a society in transition: traditional made for function items coexisting with ‘as if’ textiles as Joe’s probably is, and ‘made up’ items of the type Marla is referring to. In Persia (and Turkey) the first half of the 20th century has seen it all as a result of the periods of forced settlement policy, especially in Persia. But this had no immediate effect on craftsmanship. Good rugs with traditional dyes were produced in western Persia until the 1940’ies. Joel's rug could have been made in quite wide a span of time. Another ‘made up’ type should not be forgotten: the common reassembling of salvage from used up weaponry, masonry, textiles etc. as an age-old practice. This complexity probably illustrates why we are struggling somewhat to come to terms with the attribution.

In this context: Turkey for instance seems to be quite rich in its repertoire of tokens and opportunities that call for them. When organising my thoughts for the previous post I was in fact also thinking of a vessel - although not quite the ‘heavy metal’ type of yours. You may have come across the types of small samovars in the homes of Turkish friends, adorning shelves and TV sets. They are available in the bazaars or in hardware or china shops all over the country, made from anodised aluminium, sometimes from copper or silver even: a token of friendship and affection. They show all the outward features of a real old fashioned samovar, but are of course absolutely useless for tea making. I have a couple of those. Once in a blue moon I get them out of the box when the donators have announced their visit. In between I act on the insight that they put my sense for aesthetics on unnecessary alarm.

Horst

Joel Greifinger

Hi Marla,

With your suggestion in mind, I took out the magnifying glass to closely examine the back of the piece for signs of it having been "made up." I can't find any clues that might point to it not having been woven as a single item. However since, as you say, this is often done with such skill that it is difficult to detect, I am posting a couple of close-ups of the transitions between the 'panels' and the 'middle' so that others can perhaps point out something I've missed.





If photos of other parts of the piece would be useful in determining if it has been sewn together, advise me and I'll post them.

Joel Greifinger

Chuck Wagner

Hi Joel,

From the images, it doesn't look like a cut & paste job. Still, the best ones are really hard to spot, as the joinery will be done with thin, strong thread or with warp extensions woven into the existing ground structure. What's required is to tightly fold the piece back along a warp line (pile side out, back folded against back) and look for cut warps in the fold.

Regards,
Chuck Wagner

Marla Mallett

Hi Joel,

The first characteristic to look for is a thickening or stiffening of the weave where warps have been sewn in. This is of course much more obvious in tapestry or soumak pieces than in knotted pile. It is also much more obvious in thin, fine knotted pieces than in coarse ones. Heavy pile pieces like this are by far the easiest to alter, as the large knots can easily expand a bit to accommodate extra warp yarns. The knotting is also so irregular in this piece that looking for disturbed knots is difficult. The FEEL of a piece is normally more telling than photos. It does help to be able to roll a weave when examining it, and look at both front and back. That’s more useful than examining a piece flat. Photos are difficult.

Actually, I can’t tell which portion of the rug you are showing in your back-side photos…the upper part of the lower large panel, or the lower part of the upper panel. You show the full height of one portion of the central panel, but very little of the weave beyond that. One must of course figure out first which warps would logically be sewn into which solid area. Since in this example, there are four possible alternatives, each would need to be examined more closely than is possible with photos like these. It’s also necessary to compare the altered areas with adjacent unaltered areas.

Your first backside detail photo shows one additional feature worth investigating. It would be helpful to figure out WHY the original selvage of the piece has been overcast with a needle. Such overcasting is a practical way to cover any reconstruction.

Sorry…It’s difficult to give advice or direction without seeing and handling a piece like this at first hand.

Marla

Joel Greifinger

Chuck – I followed your instructions folding the piece vertically to see if there were cut warps. I didn’t see any place that the warps were not continuous.

Marla – The second photo in my last post is the top of the middle section transitioning into the lower part of the upper panel. When I roll the piece, I can’t discern any change in the feel or look of the weave or any sort of discontinuity, but I don’t have enough experience to think that this is an informed judgment. For what it’s worth, here is a more overall shot of the back of the middle of the piece.




Horst and Rich- If you folks are on the right track identifying the “cotton-foundation souvenir faux saddle set” it is a mini-genre that has not, as far as I know, been mentioned in the literature on rugs in the marketplace during the first decades of the 20th century. If this really was a form of early nomad nostalgia kitsch for tourists, wouldn’t we expect more of them to have survived to pop up on Antiques Roadshow? It seems that when Wendel presented the three piece set at ACOR, none of the presumably knowlegable assembled collectors and dealers had come across these items before. Was this a bazaar fad that just never caught on?

In addition to the ACOR set and the “few pile pieces in this format” that Steve mentioned, there is the piece Patrick referred to that is attributed to Kermanshah by the dealer who owns it. When I inquired about that piece, he told me that he bought it more than ten years ago, and that at that time it had “an exact twin.” He did not know its intended function and said that, from his more than thirty years of traveling in Iran, such a piece seemed quite unusual. It resides on a staircase landing in his house.

Joel Greifinger

Rich Larkin

Hi Joel,

I didn't mean to imply I considered your rug a bit of kitsch. I hold with those who consider most rugs to be commercial at some level, and I would think your piece was woven by someone who intended that it be offered for sale. The question under consideration was whether its unusual format indicated a special function for the rug. Wendel's case for an application related to riding horses was convincing, and supported by Dinie's images; but Horst's argument was also compelling for the proposition that the piece itself wouldn't have been well suited to such a use. So the "faux" notion seemed reasonable. Perhaps an analogy to a ceremonial sword would more appropriate. Certainly, we must assume that your piece and the one shown by Wendel are closely related. Do you agree?

One of the usual chestnuts rolling around the study of oriental rugs is about Kermanshah, and how the rugs that were in the market under the name were not produced there, but rather in Kerman (or, according to some writers, unaccountably, in Tabriz). H. R. Dwight, in Persian Miniatures, included a scathing chapter on rug literature as he viewed it in 1919. He mentioned this Kermanshah canard, and asserted that, in fact, no rugs were woven in that place. Never having been there or studied the point, I can't say; but it seems unlikely that it would be so, considering the location and the substantial Kurdish population. Your rug looks Kurdish to me.

I doubt that it is a cut and joined piece. The cotton warps look reasonably stout, and the interweaving of them between cut pieces (the technique mentioned by Chuck) would be reasonably obvious to one examining carefully. Alternatively, joinder by sewing with fine materials would also be easy enough to spot in a cotton foundation rug like this one.

Rich Larkin

Joel Greifinger

Hi Rich,

Perhaps you didn’t mean to imply that my piece, the one Wendel displayed and probably the “Kermanshah" piece Partick cited all belong to a mini-genre that could be considered kitsch. Yet, sentimental, nostalgic but nonfunctional copies of elements of the material culture of a romanticized bygone era or culture is one of the central elements of kitsch. The suit of armor that Horst sagely would not want to wear into battle as well as his souvenir decorative mini-samovars are examples that, as he says, “put {his}sense for aesthetics on unnecessary alarm.” This is probably less related to the shoddiness of the object (another frequent connotation of ‘kitsch’) than to its inauthenticity. This is not merely a matter of the item being offered or even explicitly produced for sale. It is wrapped up with the “faux” notion you introduced, I think quite correctly. And faux, in this sense (quite as much with souvenir copies of ceremonial swords, but not genuine ones used in still meaningful ceremonies) is a species of kitsch.

So, I think we have begun to describe a somewhat unusual mini-genre of rugs produced for their nostalgia value in the precincts of NW Persia in the late 19th-early 20th century commercial expansion of the trade. What still intrigues me is that not enough of these have shown up over the years for them to be recognizable (even to those with a great deal of experience) as having been produced as souvenir copies of earlier authentic saddle sets. What do you make of this?

In line with your sense that these pieces are Kurdish, Mumford attributes the weaving labeled Kermanshah in this era to Kurds from the mountains surrounding the town, which was itself in decline. He particularly cites their “pear” designs and the “rich and unusually good colors” that some of these display. His description of a “singular arrangement” of the “pear” pattern that is seen in Kermanshah also fits quite well.

Joel Greifinger

Marla Mallett

Folks, I have just a few more comments on the possibility of pieces being altered, before abandoning that topic. If we are serious about our rugs and textiles, it is absurd to neglect this aspect of connoisseurship. I am afraid that anyone who can readily pronounce a rug unaltered merely from viewing photos must be unaware of the remarkable recent evolution in the “repair and restoration” trade and unaware of the vast quantities of made-over pieces now on the market. As I mentioned before, Iranians have altered saddlebags and mafrash to make what they deemed more saleable merchandise for a long time. Aside from this, until five or ten years ago it was primarily pricey, upper-end goods that were given high-quality restoration work, were heavily re-piled, and made over. Now with older pieces in short supply and lots of repair people coming along who need employment, the trade in Turkey and Iran has turned to rehabbing 20th century goods en masse.

With a bad economy in the rug business for the last few years, merchants short on capital have turned to “improving” their own inventories. The market has been flooded with “doctored” pieces—cut-and-shut rugs, large pieces turned into two with new end borders woven, thousands of rugs with strident orange, purple, pink and other obvious synthetic-dyed yarns pulled out and replaced. Anything that can be doctored or made more saleable is worked on these days it seems.

There are, of course, vast differences in the quality of restoration work being done, but I have seen “before” and “after” examples that would absolutely amaze just about any rug fanatic. The new generation of “repairs” and “alterations” bears little resemblance to even the best of the past in which rows of cut warps, etc. popped up to reveal the truth. Now, with the most competent work, one can hardly believe the repairs when they are pointed out, some of these craftsmen have become so skilled. I have a weaving background, I have done restoration work for many years, and sometimes I can hardly believe my eyes!

I offer these comments merely as a warning, because so few collectors seem to be aware of what’s been happening in the Turkish and Iranian markets. Everybody has been made aware of the quantities of faked Caucasian rugs now being marketed, just as a few years ago everyone was warned about faked Iranian soumak saddlebag panels. But currently, when even coarse, synthetic-dye pieces from the 1920s and 1930s are gussied up or re-made for a quick sale, few people bother to question whether or not objects they are being shown are in their original form. In the 30 years that I’ve been trading in the Middle Eastern markets, I’ve watched the evolution of both restoration and marketing processes, and I can tell you that collectors need to be far more savvy now than in the past.

Marla

Steve Pendleton

Marla's comments about the prevalence of high-skill alterations are very helpful. For this piece, though, I can't help wonder: given two panels and a border, why make this piece out of them and not something else? Wouldn't it have been logistically and commercially more sensible to instead make two mafrash panels and just burn the border fragment? Mafrash panels are standard collectables, readily sold, and would be much easier to to make from what we see here. That's what you'd do if you had these parts and wanted to turn them into money.

Ordinary cut-and-shut makes sense. You start with a damaged piece you can't sell and end up with a "whole" piece you can sell. Got it. And editing colors makes sense: you start with a piece devalued by unfashionable dyes and end up with a presynthetic masterpiece. Got it. As an assembly, this one doesn't make sense. Why invest superlative repair skills just to cobble up a Frankenstein rug that falls outside the standard categories? Why take a sure-thing, low-risk sale and make a mystery instead? As a one-off, it isn't obviously worth more than the two mafrash panels you can make from the same parts at lower cost. On first principles, I'd bet it was woven this way.

--Steve Pendleton

Rich Larkin

Hi Marla,

Your observations about trends in rug alteration are useful and sobering. Thanks for the expert guidance.

Regarding Joel's piece here, what do you make of the apparent (to me) similarity of the item posted by Wendel Swan? Do you take it for a rug in the same style and tradition, and if so, does it suggest to you that both were probably woven this way?

Rich Larkin

Rich Larkin

Hi Joel,

Notwithstanding your cogent remarks on the nature of "kitsch," I wouldn't be inclined to place your piece within the definition simply because it appears to reflect usages found in functional bags and such, or resembles weavings used for sitting on horses. Parsing out rug designs and formats based on notions of kitsch would be a slippery slope, and I for one wouldn't get any enjoyment out of it. Would prayer rugs avoid the label because they are potentially functional, though most are never used in prayer? What about architectural details drawn into rugs? Experience tells us that just about anything is apt to show up in rugs, and the denizens of TurkoTek spend a lot of cyber ink trying to figure out the what and why of all that. We're doing it now.

How about my analogy to the ceremonial sword, which I understand to fall short of military requirements in many cases? Looking at Wendel's set, and considering Horst's argument against the use of the rugs for actual equine duty, I'd be inclined to see yours and his examples as something of that ilk, and not something produced with cynical motives. Or maybe it's something entirely different!

Rich Larkin

Marla Mallett

Steve,

You may think it’s foolish to join mafrash (or saddlebag) panels and I may think it’s foolish. But that doesn’t change the fact that hundreds of such altered pieces have appeared in the markets over the 30 years that I’ve been making buying trips to the Middle East. I can remember instances in which I’ve seen stacks of 10 or 15 of them at a time in Istanbul. From my perspective, it’s probably the most common kind of rug alteration done up until about 10 years ago, except for the removal of çuval back sides. (Now the most common is replacing offensive colors.) Since I started trading in Turkey I have pleaded with both pickers and merchants to buy untampered-with panels, or even beat-up mafrash or fragments and repeatedly I got the same reply—that the Iranians rarely wanted to sell them that way…they were convinced that they could get more for them as small rugs.

Rich,

Although I saw Wendell’s piece from the back of the room at ACOR, I did not examine it at first hand.

Marla

Joel Greifinger

Hi Rich,

I’ve got to begin by apologizing. Since you’ve already made clear that you won’t find trying to critically apply the concept of kitsch to rugs enjoyable, I admit to trying to impose this unpleasant activity . I’d like to pursue your analogy of the pieces we’ve been discussing to ceremonial swords. Since it isn’t an area I know much about, I looked up ceremonial swords online. I was picturing a sword whose use was as a token of the power vested in its wielder, like the queen bestowing a knighthood. It seems their other major function is as a sign of rank or status. Thus, while not functional as weapons, ceremonial swords perform important symbolic functions within an ongoing cultural formation.

The better analogy for these rugs, as I suggested in my earlier post, is to a souvenir copy of a ceremonial sword, in fact one made with materials unsuitable to its original function. At the online sword purveyor I was perusing, another category seemed even more apt: fantasy swords. Here the purchaser can imaginatively partake in the romantic symbolic sphere of medieval knights or perhaps Mughal horsemen or pastoral nomads.

Another analogy might be this Kachina doll I bought in a Hopi tourist shop in New Mexico years ago.



Certainly there are still highly skilled Hopi carvers producing beautiful versions of these spirits and those for whom the belief system they represent is still powerful and cogent. Nevertheless, this doll is in my view a piece of kitsch. Its appeal to consumers is not the very real power and mythos it embodies but rather its easy incorporation into the eclectic, almost promiscuous ‘spirituality’ of contemporary American modernity. They are what my grandmother would have called tsatkes, an expressive Yiddish term for a kitschy knick-knacks.

Similarly, if the rugs under discussion are tourist-directed souvenir copies of earlier genuine saddle sets (and not “made up” pieced together rugs as Marla seems to strongly suspect) then their most direct affinity may be to lurid Victorian orientalist art. I don’t dispute I find some of those pieces quite engaging. I nonetheless would categorize them also as kitsch.

Finally, here's a close analogue: a picture of miniature western saddles (quite artfully reproduced) gracing a home with the family boats in the background. You can't drive cattle in these, but they suggest a simpler time and place...



I must admit the prayer rug analogy is interesting. I have certainly seen many contemporary prayer rugs made for the export market that are marketed to the same tourist-Kachina sensibility (of participating in the spirituality of the ‘Other’) and might be similarly classified.

The problem with all cautions against the slippery slope is that they don’t make an argument in the particular case, just against the danger of its illegitimate overextension.

Joel Greifinger

Steve Price

Hi Joel

The exotic orient was very fashionable in 18th and 19th century Europe, and showed up in all sorts of places. Mozart, Beethoven and Haydn incorporated "Turkish" sections into their music; the "orientalist" painters flourished; palaces had "Turkish" gardens with minaret-adorned gazebos; prayer rugs were popular items of decor.

Just mentioning this to point out that the popularity of things suggestive of some exotic culture but not really part of that culture has been around for a long time.

Regards

Steve Price

Rich Larkin

Hi Joel,

My guess is that most weavers of rugs would be happy to sell their creations to any willing buyer, regardless of the buyer's motivation. There's nothing wrong with that, and I don't think that fact diminishes the importance of the weaving craft in the weavers' social and cultural tradition. It's a tradition that has existed in these regions for many hundreds of years, and evidently, the weavers have come up with all manner of designs and formats for who knows what reasons. If your piece is actually a "faux saddle" thing, I would not be quick to dismiss it as a "kitschy" knock-off intended to suck in the tourists. In fact, it looks like a quality item to me, and I have little doubt that the weaver took it off the loom with pride. I don't think it has to be a "real" saddle piece to be worthy. There's a great gap between weaving something that may echo an old tradition and producing something like that Hopi doll, in my opinion.

I don't know what your piece is all about, but I wonder if it is analogous to the following "triclinium" patterned rug that I scanned from James Opie's Tribal Rugs of Southern Persia.



As you probably know, Persians traditionally are said to have arranged four different, specially sized rugs in this pattern in their homes. In this piece, the weavers decided to incorporate the whole business in one job. However one might respond to it aesthetically, I would note that, according to Opie, an informed writer, the rug dates from about 1900. This is not long after a very substantial expansion of the demand of Persian rugs in the west. It isn't clear whether the Opie rug was woven for export, or domestic consumption. Opie suggests the latter.

Rich Larkin

Horst Nitz

Hi Joel

somehow you seem to have got the wrong end of the stick of it. Identifying your rug as a token associated with a fading way of live that had been going on for thousands of years obviously implies an intracultural perspective and doesn’t get anywhere near kitsch or the tourism industry at this stage. The principle is applicable to many other objects in other cultures as well. When over time the context changes due to progress or other, forms may get freed from their former function and usually it is some aspects related to that original function that get lost first. Sometimes a new function is adopted, as is the case in those little samovars that were not made with us in minds either, they are Turkish mainstream taste. Or take those little ceramic oil lamps that were buried with the deceased all along the Turkish south coast in Roman times, to guide them to the other world. They have never been filled with oil or carried a wick and are fully unfunctional as a lamp, but not as a token or as a symbol. Kitsch? I don’t think so.

Without any ‘faux’ you could always call your rug ‘A Rare Antique and Beautiful Token of Post-Nomadic Craftsmanship’. I have heard worse things being said about a rug.

Horst

Joel Greifinger

Hi Rich and Horst,

I am not impugning the motivation or the skill of the weaver of my piece. And I certainly don’t subscribe to the romantic notion that commercial interests enervate creativity. The Hopi carvers who created the beautifully formed and painted Kachinas that were in the glass display cases in the shop where I got my less distinguished figure are justly proud of their craft as well. I was trying to look at this “token associated with a fading way of life” as an object of consumption and perhaps incorrectly assumed the consumers were from a turn of the (20th) century West anxious to partake of the “exotic orient.” Whoever they were made for, when I display the souvenir mini-samovar with those little gold-rimmed glasses I got at the Arasta Bazaar on my buffet back home, I believe they take on a different cultural meaning and function. Even if my rug was woven as a non-functional copy of a bygone era saddle-set, it would take on the status of what I perhaps hyperbolically characterized as kitsch only when in this context of consumption, as with the artful Kachina.

Ceremonial swords, like the oil-less and wick-less buried lamps Horst cites have rich symbolic functions for all of the members of the culture in which they were produced. Perhaps this is also true of mini-samovars to contemporary Turks. It seems quite different when you place these artifacts into the context of exotic souvenirs. If I display these (along with the suit of armor Rich suggested) and my saddle set in my collection of replicas, what cultural significance can we assign to it?

However, you’ve convinced me that kitsch is not the most useful category of analysis in this case. It would have been better to just have located this piece in the history of orientalism. Steve is correct that this is a development that runs at least as far back as Mozart’s Violin Concerto in A major or Haydn thrilling the London concert-goers by using a Turkish crescent in the Military Symphony. The roots of romanticism in that period provided the soil from which both orientalism and kitsch have sprung.

On the aesthetic front, I’m very happy with my new rug. I have no problem at all declaring it ‘A Rare and Beautiful Token of Post-Nomadic Craftsmanship’ since the wool, colors, drawing and quality of workmanship are all very pleasing. I guess I just don’t see that judgment as in any way contradictory to my speculations about the cultural/historical context of the piece’s consumption.

Joel Greifinger

Patrick Weiler

This has been a very interesting thread and it is likely there will be no satisfactory resolution to the numerous issues raised.
Here are some visual additions to the discourse:
This is a piece I have had for a decade or more. It is a version of a fairly common Shahsavan design (although without the outlining of the motifs as is more usual) and is either both end panels of a mafrash or the two faces of a khorjin.

The place where the two pieces were joined is rather obvious and was likely not made to deceive, but was a method of keeping both pieces together.

The next piece is superficially similar to many wagireh, or sampler, weavings. It bears some similarity to the original piece Joel posted in construction, with a cotton foundation, and some of the colors are also similar. It may have been woven commercially as a "copy" of older pieces and not in any way meant to deceive.

The back looks familiar to Joel's piece.

This last photo was taken outside the Istanbul Grand Bazaar. There may be a reproduction samovar at the far right, along with some rather large versions of ewers and other decorative but decidedly non-functional household items which I would be seriously concerned about using to contain consumable food or drinks. I suspect these items were made for decorative use and for sale either to tourists looking for "genuine" Turkish folk pieces or for local use as decoration.

I like the store name, LAZYO.

Patrick Weiler

Rich Larkin

Hi Joel,

I don't want to beat a dead horse here, as it would constitute an unfortunate mixing of metaphors. However, in rereading the posts, I see I pushed this discussion around kitsch to greater limits than you may have intended by picking up on your remark. I only meant to suggest that some functional usages in weaving (and other fields) could survive in a symbolic way while having lost some or most of their original functional purpose. Horst expressed it much more succinctly. Underlying the discussion, I think, is our ongoing quest and desire to find culturally legitimate items, in contrast to, dare I say it, kitschy commercial products.

I just noticed a Senneh saddle rug offered for sale on a well known online website. It is a familiar format, being roughly four feet square with the boomerang shaped cut near the center to allow for the saddle shape and the slit cut at one edge for the pommel. I would propose that most examples of this type of piece were seldom or never used for riding. Assuming your piece, and the set posted by Wendel, were modeled after a horse cover functional format, though never seriously intended for that working use, and (following Horst's reasoning) not well suited to such a use, which (between the Senneh type and the instant type) would you consider the more "authentic?" Incidentally, most of those Senneh examples were on cotton foundations, too.

Rich Larkin

Joel Greifinger

Hi Rich,

Thinking out loud on the Web is probably a bad idea, particularly when you’re well into middle age.

Nonetheless, what I have been trying to think through is the question of cultural authenticity as not being exclusively a quality of the artifact and its circumstances of production. In other words, when you ask whether the Senneh saddle rug that was never intended to be used for riding is more or less authentic than my similarly non-functional horse cover (if that is what it is), my answer is that it depends on the context of its consumption and (symbolic and/or physical) use. What I am proposing is that what might be termed the ‘context of appropriation’ transforms the meanings of items from exotic and romanticized cultures and historical periods in ways that bear on their authenticity. To be more succinct, authenticity is a mutative trait that is contextually constructed and reconstructed. To see it only as a quality of the object simpliciter eliminates the possibility of understanding the artifact as a signifier whose connotation is inevitably historical.

If a poor North Carolina farmer constructs an amazingly detailed 3D depiction of the Last Supper made out of toothpicks, is this an outstanding piece of authentic folk art or an astounding example of kitsch? I propose that it depends on who has it and what they do with it, with all of the cultural and historical contingency this inevitably implies.

Joel Greifinger

Rich Larkin

Hi Joel,

I'm thinking about all that. I think we may be in agreement.

There are lots of schlocky rugs and related weavings that were produced with little apparent regard on the part of the weaver for what I would consider the admirable practices and attitudes that traditionally attended this ancient craft. I wouldn't be inclined to view your rug as one of them.

Rich Larkin

Steve Pendleton

I'll directly ask the question implied below. How often are wagireh faked? I've been shy of them on ebay on the fear that the sampler format would be especially tempting to imitate with the usable parts of damaged rugs. A dealer who happened to have (1) an old Bidjar with a square foot of potted-plant rot in one quarter and (2) access to high-skill repair would naturally turn it into three collectable wagireh of the common type that look like quartered carpets. These would be at least as easy to make as the present small rug accused of being an assembly. Given convincing joins, irregularities in pattern would simply reinforce collector expectations. Frankly you could use up almost any combination of matching fragments this way and the "sampler" story would sell the result.

Of course Marla's reports imply that Iranian demand drives the market for assembled pieces and that Western collector goals don't necessarily predict that particular trade. So: is the Iranian demand for wagireh strong enough to cause the repair trade to stitch them from parts? We could call this practice cut-and-open as distinct from cut-and-shut. [I accidentially typed the wrong vowel in "shut" and almost liked the indelicate result enough to post it].

--Steve Pendleton

Wendel Swan

Dear Joel and all,

Here are a few supplemental images. The first shows the stripes in the ACOR example, which the owner brought to the session after long, long exchanges with me as to its use. The stripes remind me of the backs or bottoms of certain bags, areas generally not seen.



Next is an image of how the owner displays it., simulating what it might have looked like on a horse. I cannot speculate how the pieces were used in relation to the saddle.



This is an image of the back, quite similar to Joel’s.



Next is an image (from a German auction long ago) of two pieces that were cataloged as being part of a Senneh saddle set. They’re differently shaped than the ones brought to the ACOR mystery rug section, but may have served a similar purpose.



Now, some final comments. First, it should not surprise anyone that there are paneled pile weavings that serve a variety of functions but are clearly not composites. Here is a box cover that I showed on Turkotek a long time ago and has been referred to several times and then one posted to Turkotek by Stephen Louw. These box covers are not well represented, if at all, in the literature.





In addition, Turkotek has seen many, many discussions of bags with panels. The ACOR set is as woven and Joel’s piece seems to be as well.

I don’t feel that the word “faux” is at all applicable and, Joel, I don’t think that you should feel that you have “a non-functional copy of a bygone era saddle-set”. Horse covers and saddle sets were still used in Persia in 1925 (when these may have been, +/- a few years). Cotton was the foundation of choice for the exquisite horse covers and saddle rugs of Senneh, Ferahan and Bijar. For long term function, felt next to the horse might be preferred, but many of these sets saw limited use in ceremonies and then were displayed in the homes.

Last, the size is certainly not too large for a horse. It may be a few inches longer than the average horse cover from nape to rump, but it’s not oversized for that function.

We all have to realize that we there are still discoveries to be made. I don’t know how one could find in the literature a set similar to those being discussed here, but I’m sure they still exist in Iran and maybe are still being used.

Wendel

Joel Greifinger

Hi Wendel,

Your comments on the ACOR piece support the idea that these pieces were all woven for a particular purpose (i.e. ceremonial and decorative horse covers) that may not have been uncommon in the early 20th century in North Persia. As with the box covers that you previously discussed, this may be one of those undocumented formats that were produced in this period when older functional forms were being adapted to the new cultural and social realities at a particularly rapid pace. There seems to be a clear opening in the scholarship on this period of Persian weaving to try to integrate a record of these interesting and often finely executed transitional formats.

In following up on the question of whether these presumed horse covers were woven as such or pieced together from salvage of pieces created for other functions, I re-contacted the dealer who owns the Kermanshah piece that Patrick first cited. I asked whether his was woven as a single piece or had evidence of having been created out of other pieces. His reply is that “the carpet is woven in one piece.” He also mentioned that he uses it as a rug on the landing of a stairway in his home. (Now that’s authentic in my book )

Hi Rich,

We agree there is nothing schlocky or incompetent about my rug. Aesthetically, I find it very pleasing. Do you also agree that a sloppy piece by a feckless weaver can, under the right conditions of production and consumption, be nonetheless authentic? I just want to keep from mixing the apples of aesthetic judgment (which may include continuity with past techniques and practices among its components) from the oranges of assessing authenticity.


One day there will no doubt be a museum display of the sorts of pieces that Steve P. (the Other Steve P?!) terms Frankenstein rugs from the 20th century. In the exhibition catalogue, the curator will point out that the once maligned Persian dealers who had these salvaged fragments pieced into new creations were in the great tradition of the bricoleur, so admired by structural anthropologists and post-modern theorists. What was once taken for a sorry sign of the degeneration of the techniques and practices of an ancient craft will now be understood as a thrilling example of the creative and authentic process of bricolage in a cultural context transformed by modern historical forces.

Or perhaps not.

Joel Greifinger

Chuck Wagner

Hi all,

Following up on an older post, Pat's Shahsavan piece, and the kitsch theme, I can name that tune in one note:



Is this a piece in its original form or a hack job ? Unclear, depending on what manner of motivation one assigns the person who cobbled it together. Note the thin strip in the center of the piece - here it is in closeup. The asymmetry of the stitching along the edge of the strip gives away the join - not particularly well hidden:



This strip has been attached to the upper larger panel with a blue & white wool stitch that crosses back and forth along the join. It is integral to the lower panel. Both of the brown striped end panels are also integral to the piecce. When folded back tightly along the join, as I mentioned earlier, we see this:




Which in closeup reveals the cut warp yarn:



I'm a little confused about what happened here. Did we run out of loom and have to do this in two pieces ? Was the original damaged and a piece hacked out of the middle ? Can't say. I saw this prior to purchase and bought it anyway because I like the overall look-n-feel of the piece. Comments ?

On the topic of saddle blankets, there is a color photo of a Kurdish kilim horse cover in Jon Thompson's "Carpets from the Tents, Cottages, and Workshops of Asia" that is absolutely phenomenal. Who knows how old it really is; also, who cares. I'll scan & post unless someone beats me to it.

This discussion always boils down to one's definition of art, and then, whether one is collecting art - or - an example of xenogenic workmanship of sufficient character to be considered money-worthy by the buyer.

The piece above is not a museum treasure, but sufficiently interesting to me to justify the small amount of money paid.

Best regards,
Chuck

(a weekend-killing family relative's illness has severely constrained my Turkotyping ability - some may cheeer at this thought - so I apologize for jumping in and out of so many threads over the past few months)

Note: Here's the image from Thompson's book

Marla Mallett

Chuck,

Yes, this piece is typical of the hundreds of joined mafrash side panels that came out of Iran quite some years back. The two panels were normally put together with one border in the center removed to make the piece symmetrical. Frequently sections of the original striped or plain mafrash bottom were left on the outward side of each panel. The joins were done with widely varying degrees of skill on slit tapestry, soumak and knotted-pile pieces. In more recent years skill levels and methods have improved immeasurably, and the best modern jobs look nothing like this rough seam with exposed cut warp ends.

Marla

Rich Larkin

Hi all,

An interesting feature of Wendel's ACOR example of the "saddle set" is the three plain bands separating the more conventional framed elements of the design. It is as though they are outside the scope of the compositional concept of the piece, somewhat in the manner of the lining of a suit. It is expected that they will be seen, but not when the set is formally deployed. This aspect of it tends to support the notion of the intended deployment, as illustrated in the image. Joel's similar example also uses a distinctively different design element for the middle section of the piece, though not so dramatically different.

Googling "box cover" within TurkoTek on the home page brings up a few of the discussions about so-called box covers, and they are worth reading. It seems (in year 2000, at any rate), several knowledgeable persons were in the dark about this functional format. In particular, I note that then, Parviz Tanavoli did not know the functional purpose of the piece that Wendel included as the fifth image in his latest post (five panels with a bite out of one edge). Looking at that piece, I find the mode of the specific deployment to be a bit elusive. Presumably, it would be woven to the dimensions of a particular box. Curiously, the two end panels are of different dimensions. On the other hand, Stephen Louw's example (Wendel's #6) seems properly designed for a box (of rifles??), but one wonders how exactly it would be applied and used.

It is remarkable that there would be items of these kinds, some perhaps woven, or at least used, within the lifetimes of living persons; and yet keen students of the craft, e. g., Parviz Tanavoli, inter alia, would be unfamiliar with their intended uses.

Rich Larkin

Horst Nitz

Hi Chuck,

are structural details being given to the Thompson book horse cover? It looks like sumak to me. In that function cotton warps would be fine.
Sorry, to hear about the illness in the family. I hope everything will be allright again eventually.

Horst

Joel Greifinger

Hi Rich,

The middle section of these "saddle-set" pieces is an interesting feature. The simple stripes on the piece Wendel presented seem suited to the configuration as displayed while the decorative middle strip on my piece looks more as if it is intended to be seen, uncovered. For the record, the third similar piece, the Kermanshah rug Patrick first cited, is more like mine in this regard. Its middle stripe has a string of rosettes and this stripe is even narrower than on mine. Since it's pictured on a commercial site (though residing on its owner's floor), posting a picture would violate Turkotek norms.

Are there any pieces in Tanavoli's Riding in Splendour that can shed any light on these items? I don't have access to a copy.

Joel Greifinger

Marla Mallett

I’ve been waiting for someone to mention that they’ve never seen a real live horse with such strange dimensions as Wendall’s ACOR guy’s armature and supposed horse-cover set-up. Anyway, pondering the average dimension along a horse’s spine led me to check out a bunch of actual horse covers in my current and past inventories. I found their dimensions remarkably consistent: all were from 39 inches to 43 inches along the center back. Here’s a sampling:

Azeri soumak horse cover………………........4 3 inches
Yomut warp-substitution horse cover…….43 inches
Uzbek embroidered horse cover………….....42 ½ inches
Shahsevan soumak horse cover…………....39 inches
Qashqai flatweave & pile horse cover…….43 inches
Qashqai flatweave & pile horse cover…….42 inches

These measurements do not include flaps that fasten around the animal’s neck. We should consider that horse covers are most often woven in structures that are somewhat soft and flexible, so they can conform to the horse’s shape. With a stiff weave, the dimensions would be more crucial.

We haven’t heard the actual size of Wendall’s ACOR piece, but the measurements of Joel’s similar weaving add up to 55 ½ inches. How is that likely to fit on a normal horse…at least if it is placed LENGTHWISE on the animal? Slung CROSSWISE, like a saddlebag, it might make sense.

Marla

Filiberto Boncompagni

Exactly, Marla: it’s too long.
And what about the width?
Regards,

Filiberto

Wendel Swan

Dear all,

Based upon measurements of other horse covers, the implication is that my suggestion doesn’t “make sense” that Joel’s piece and the virtually identical ACOR large piece could have been part of a NWP horse cover set.

I don’t and can’t know for certain that what was presented at ACOR is, in fact, a horse cover or saddle set. Same for Joel’s. Its format is unknown in the literature. However, to place it lengthwise across the back of a horse would create an asymmetry with the center panel. Given the precision of the weaving, that, in my opinion, doesn’t make any more sense than that it is a composed piece.

As to the suggestions that it is too long to be a horse cover, I can refer everyone to a 19th Century Ferahan horse cover that I posted here on Turkotek some time ago:

http://www.turkotek.com/misc_00071/ferahan.htm

My fragmented horse cover measures 49 inches along the center back. Because I am familiar with another nearly identical intact Ferahan horse cover, I know that my fragment is missing not only the breast flaps but also secondary borders at the top and bottom that would add at least 3 inches to the center line.

Thus, my Ferahan horse cover, also woven in NWP on a cotton foundation, would have had a center back measurement of at least 52 inches, not much smaller than Joel’s.

The widths of the ACOR example and Joel’s are clearly unusual. Most horse covers are relatively wide and extend down the flanks of the horse, such as that posted by Chuck from Thompson’s book. The bodies (i. e., excluding the breast flaps) are commonly wider than the measurement along the center back. However, the examples posted by Dinie in the miniatures do not seem to be relatively wide.

The 3 piece set shown by its owner at ACOR were clearly woven to be used together – and not as a mafrash. I took the precise fit of the “necks” of the “salt bag” like flaps to the striped section to be highly significant.

Perhaps more evidence will turn up to support my thesis that these are some form of a horse cover set. Until then, there remains an element of mystery about them, but my best opinion remains that they are what I have said.

Wendel

Steve Price

Hi All

First, let me make it clear that I don't know whether this is a horse cover or not. But the argument about whether its dimensions make this unlikely lacks power, in my view. It's true that the dimensions are well outside the range of the database of horse covers that have been presented. But that's only 6 horse covers.

I live in Virginia's "horse country". That doesn't make me an expert on the subject, but I have seen enough horses to know that they aren't all the same size. I'm reminded of a conversation that I overheard years ago in which someone asked whether a specific envelope-shaped bag wasn't too big to be a Koran cover (which is what the seller's label called it). The answer was, it depends on the size of the Koran for which it was intended.

Regards

Steve Price

Patrick Weiler

The horse blanket in my collection is also around 43", similar to those Marla mentions.
Looking at the Thompson book horse cover, the neck of the horse is just too close to where the saddle would go for Joel's piece to be used with the saddle in the middle. The front section would be crawling up the horses neck.
The Tanavoli book Horse and Camel Trappings from Tribal Iran shows several horse blankets, mostly of the same size as Marla's. The next paragraphs take some information from the Tanavoli book along with my editorial comments in parenthesis:
There are three categories of horse covers: Covers relating to the saddle, i.e. saddle and rump covers; Jols - horse blankets; and Ghashieh - saddle cloths used to cover the saddle after the rider dismounts.
Saddle covers are for cushioning the rider (and some of those have "flaps" similar to the pieces Wendel has shown covering the middle section of the ACOR piece, but the "flaps" are very close to the fronts of the covers, not in the middle). Saddle covers are placed on top of the saddle and usually have a hole and slit. Those which go under the saddle (perhaps Joel's piece is one of these) are larger textiles which cover the horse's back and rump. These rump covers lack the hole and slit of saddle covers, although they were made with leather straps which were removed when sold on the market. (None shows the design on Joel's piece with designs at either end and stripes or plain field in the middle. Again, if Joel's piece were used for a rump cover, the striped section would be behind where the saddle was placed on the horse and there would not be any reason for the "flaps" in that area.)
Most Persian saddle pieces are pile, although Turkmen use felt.
Horse covers are placed over the horse when it is cold, at night or after a workout and most jols have a felt lining or are thickly woven like blankets.
They are also used as ceremonial garments for the horse.
There are also camel covers, many of larger sizes and most of which have a hole for the hump.
So, if Joel's piece was made for use on a horse, it does not resemble any of those traditionally made for that purpose. It may continue to be a mystery piece until such a time as one like it is found in its native habitat performing the function for which it was intended.

Patrick Weiler

Horst Nitz

Hi all,

it seems to be consensus now that the only sensible way this textile could be attached to a horse would be crosswise ‘spine to spine’ with width averaging 40“ and by that falling into the interval outlined by Marla. Its functional shortcomings have been discussed in detail.

As a saddle cover or blanket or as a saddle pad the textile is no good. But I could imagine, that Wendel’s suggestion of a ceremonial purpose has something going for it. A ceremony it would need to be that integrates the pieces merits and bypasses its deficits. From the loom into the dowry onto the horse in a ‘Bringing Home the Bride’ ceremony and up to the space above the sofa might be the stages in as exquisite a life cycle as a çaprak (Turkish / Azeri for Shabrack) could wish for in the post-nomadic age. A çaprak also is what the princes flash on the images Dinie posted a little while ago. Also possible is, the bride was brought home on a tractor or in a cart, the two panels giving an indication as to the positions of the protagonists, or similar. I know it sounds somewhat outlandish, but not much more so than a heybey or khordjin on a motorbike, and this 'transferred function' concept could explain the lack of parallel pieces, something about which Joel was concerned. A (individualized) ceremonial use in the context of a wedding seems a realistic possibility……

Best,

Horst

Dinie Gootjes

Hi All,

This thread has gone into a number of interesting directions, with a ceremonial saddle cloth being the latest. A ceremonial purpose could also explain why it is so difficult/impossible to find contemporary (I am willing to stretch that definition to include the whole of the 20th c.) examples. Ceremonial object often derive their shapes from way back in the past, as in the case of sword, mace etc.

When we were in the States last week, I found a beautiful book: "Man and Horse" by Fulvio Cinquini. As none of the stores there offered a nice asmalyk or some such for $5, I decided to splurge that amount on the book. Besides gorgeous horses, it also shows pieces of woven horse paraphernalia. Of course nothing like what we are now looking for, but as we have been talking so much about what belongs to the horse, I would like to share a few of the pictures. I don't have a scanner, so these are pictures of pictures.

First, how many of our chanteh are not bags for personal belongings, but feed bags?:



Then a Yomud gentleman with a horse with one of those "animal trappings" around the neck, with a goat hair rope to tie the horse to a pole that is stuck in the ground.





The following horse does not only have a blanket with front flap, but also a neck cover as part of the set. Once these pieces get separated, who will ever know that the little mat once was a piece of a horse cover? It looks like there is also something rolled up behind the ears. Does Tanavoli's book show anything like this, Patrick?



A horse decked out for harvest festival games in Tibet with piled saddle cover and saddle cloth. The author mentions that the fringed hats are a fashion left over from the time that the Manchu dynasty dominated Tibet. Ceremonial hat from the past. Sorry, I just now realize that I cropped off the hat...



Horse from Pamir, Chinese Turkestan:



Saddle blanket and pile saddle cover for a Buzkashi game in Afghanistan:



I 'll now be gallopin' off into the sunset.

Dinie

Filiberto Boncompagni

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I received the following from Jack Williams:

Filiberto. I got interested in the line about the botah horse trapping line. Here are a few comments and a lot of pictures.

We westerners too often try to force a piece such as the woven “horse trapping” in to context of our culture…and do not understand the breath of the role of pile textile techniques in eastern cultures.

To measure a horse and then declare a woven piece to be horse-sized or not-horse-sized based on our western senses of how it SHOULD be used is fallacious. You can see this in the pictures below.

Finally, there are OTHER ways horses etc. are used besides as a saddle mount. The item in question could easily be intended as a decorative cover over the back of mule, or a led horse, or donkey or other animal. Suppose you encountered a woven article of great beauty shape like the one in picture 11. Would any of us ever guess what it was?

First picture was from the web somewhere and was advertised as an Afghan horse trapping. The rest of the pictures are of uses. Please use whatever part of this you think relevant.
Regards, Jack























Thanks Jack.

Filiberto

James Blanchard

Hi all,

I cringed when my daughter proudly showed me this picture of how she had deployed the Baluch "saddle rug" that she had recently selected. I told her that these pieces were actually ceremonial dowry objects to be hung carefully on the walls of Baluch princesses. She seemed skeptical, but understood... it hasn't been near a horse since.

James

Rich Larkin

Hi James,

I dunno. That piece looks awful good and very comfortable on that horse. Your daughter might have come up with something here. You might want to reconsider.

Nice pics from Jack, too.

Rich Larkin

Chuck Wagner

Hi everyone,

On the "size" thing, this Uzbek dauri is 54 inches wide and 55 inches long:



Some cross-stitch along with the usual stuff:



Regards,
Chuck Wagner

Joel Greifinger

Hi James,

Do you know anything more about the cultural practices exemplified by the embroidery (or perhaps applique) on the denim material in the equine photograph you posted? This seems likely to be a set of symbols of considerable significance within the lifeworld (lebenswelt) of these horse-born peoples. Their juxtaposition with the Baluch saddle is surely an example of the sorts of syncretic processes currently under discussion in the current salon.

And what was the story about Baluch princesses...?

Joel Greifinger

James Blanchard

Hi Joel,

Well, I have a theory...

The floral design on the denim clothing actually has its roots in the syncretism of the drug cultures of Central Asia and N. America ca. 1960-72. The historical reverence for the poppy flower in Central Asian cultures, as illustrated by its ubiquitous rendering on woven objects, was integrated into the hippie culture of the west and was translated into the "flower power" movement. Sadly, what we see today is simply a commercialized remnant of the original socio-cultural phenomenon, with the true meanings lost along the way.

James

Filiberto Boncompagni

James,

Steve Price

Hi James

Your theory rests on better evidence than most of Rugdom's notions about motif origins, meaning and evolution. Filiberto's post probably means that he thinks so as well.

With admiring regards,

Steve Price

Joel Greifinger

Hi James,

I, too, think your theory is spot on. I'm posting some photos from that earlier era you cite (specifically, 1967) when the strands of "historical reverence" were realized in these creations and yet transformed their earlier meanings. Looking at what you aptly describe as today's commercialized remnants, one is immediately struck by the degeneration in both design and materials.







Joel Greifinger

Marvin Amstey

As long as folks are viewing horse covers, I thought I would add this one that is hanging on my wall:

It is from the Kirman (Afshar) region; has ~224 symmetric kpsi on significantly depressed warps. Warps are cotton; wefts are 2 shoots of red wool. It measures 44 in x 41 in, excluding the flat woven ends and selvedges.

Joel Greifinger

Hi all,

I thought that this image from Tanavoli's Riding in Splendour: Horse and Camel Trappings from Tribal Iran might make a fitting 'rump' to this thread. Since the edition it's from is entirely in Farsi (of which I am totally ignorant), I can only guess at what its caption says:



Joel Greifinger

Dinie Gootjes

Hi Joel,

I would think of it as the 'tail' of the thread. The horse is getting its tail washed, that means a clean ending. Which I am fouling up now.

Dinie

Patrick Weiler

The caption to the picture says:
"Horse and groom, Esfahan School, 17th century."
The picture is in a section of the book describing horse blankets.
And, in light of our current economy, I suspect that a large number of folks who worked at that end of the horse lost their jobs when automobiles took over.

Patrick Weiler

Filiberto Boncompagni

What about those who worked at the other end of the horse?