Hugh Rance

Can anyone enlighten me about this intriguing kilim? There is a modern look to the boldness of the drawing of motifs, colour contrast and postive and negative space but actually it has some age to it and I guess it is may be 1930s/40s. There are many silk and cotton fabric wishing pieces woven into the kilim, some of which are worn away. The colours look for the most part natural and it uses cotton for the white although i'm not sure about the bright orange which looks very consistent doesn't have the abrash/variation in other older pieces I have seen.

Here is a link to an album of photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/hughrance/MysteryKilim

Does anyone have any idea about the motifs, age, dyes and origin of this interesting Anatolian kilim? It is 170x110cm.



A Happy New Year to all,

Hugh

Steve Price

Hi Hugh

I agree with your estimate of the age - the colors look like those I associate with the period between the two world wars. I suspect that some of our readers wil be able to place the geographic origin more closely than just Anatolian. The "wishing pieces" are probably good clues.

Regards, and best wishes for the coming year.

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

Hugh,

In my opinion this piece is from Malatya Province, and indeed from the middle of the 20th century. The orange is almost certainly a synthetic dye. The piece is actually a fragment of a large kilim that was woven in two panels that were then sewn together. This fragment would have been a little less than half of one of those long panels--so actually a bit less than one-fourth of the original kilim. Lots of those big pieces are getting cut up these days!

Best wishes,
Marla Mallett

Hugh Rance

Thanks for your suggestions. I was going to say Afyon, as the only other pieces I have with cloth rather than angora wishing pieces are from Afyon. Also the vertical arrangement of panels with repeated motifs divided by narrower bands is also similar to a couple of Afyon kilims with wishing pieces.

The double winged type motifs look like they may be a degraded winged elibelinde motif but i'm not sure. Anyway, graphically and colour wise it's a nice kilim, even if it is a portion of its former self. The kilim is as I found it. It's a pity to cut pieces up to make more money.

Marla_Mallett

Hugh,



Here's a detail from an early/mid-19th century Malatya kilim--the type from which your piece evolved.

Best wishes,
Marla Mallett

Hugh Rance

Hi Marla, thank you very much for that example, very interesting. What appears to be a type of elibelinde motif in your kilim with great positive/negative contrast, looks more like a standing goddess form with arms outstretched and the inner small triangle within the zig zag representing the unborn child. It would be very interesting to see an even earlier, less corrupted example of this motif. By the time my kilim was made, the integrity of the original form and its symbolism seem to have been lost. Hugh

Steve Price

Hi Hugh

Meaning no offense, but the mother/goddess with fetus interpretation of the elibelinde has rather little supporting evidence. If the motif had symbolic/mystical/magical meaning once upon a time, it has been lost. It is very unlikely that it had any more significance to the weaver of your kilim than her simply liking the way it looks.

For an analogy, the boteh probably had importance once upon a time, but necktie designers use paisleys pretty freely and neither know nor care about the history of the motif. No matter how many paisley neckties you examine, you won't learn the origin or meanings of the boteh by doing so.

Regards

Steve Price

Hugh Rance

Hi Stephen, as I said in my last post:

"By the time my kilim was made, the integrity of the original form and its symbolism seem to have been lost."

From the psychological point of view, there are factors other than the conscious choice of pattern that provide links back to former symbolic or magical significance of motifs in art.

Best wishes,

Hugh

Steve Price

Hi Hugh

Can you be more specific? What are those factors, and how can we discover the symbolic or magical significances to which they link? Since you specifically mention the elibelinde motif as derived from an image of a pregnant mother goddess, that would be a good one with which to start, although any other that you prefer could be used to illustrate the process.

Regards

Steve Price

Hugh Rance

Hi Steve, the delay in responding to your question was because of the can of worms it opens and I don't have time to write a thesis! I'm not an academic and haven't studied kilims and rugs enough to provide an objective, reasoned argument justifying my statement regarding kilims and the elibelinde motif in particular. All I can say is that as an artist and someone who has plumbed the depths to a certain extent, I recognise the ability of the artist and craftsman to resurrect archetypal forces in their work. This is a parallel and sometimes concurrent development to that achieved through the study, copy or inheritance of motifs used in the artist's or weaver's work. There is also often a convergence of depth, skill and technique achieved in giving birth to a work which results in something that appears to have come alive and is imbued with a quality which we distinguish from representations that have no life or energy.

What I am saying is that it is not all about skill, quality and objective integrity but that there is a significant psychological factor that may, through a process akin to meditation, re-emerge in an individual to provide a link to archetypes that for most people appear to be long dead and associated with the past only. Archetypes are alive and well as far as I am concerned!

On the Elibelinde motif, here are some examples from my kilims, plus a detail of the one Marla Mallett posted. They show the standard and winged form and show how the head becomes subsumed in the body. Plus there are some examples of the inner triangle which some have associated with the unborn child. I am interested in the images and not so much in arguments about the validity of their original meanings. They either mean something to us in the here and now or they don't.

Best wishes,

Hugh

http://picasaweb.google.com/hughrance/Elibelinde

Steve Price

Hi Hugh

I'm not an artist, but I've had a number of good friends who are (sculptors, mostly) a few of whom share your notions. I learned that debating the subject of their ability to sort of connect with some unidentified person in a culture vastly unfamiliar to us leads noplace, so I'll simply agree to disagree about that if you'll do the same.

I would like to pay a bit of attention to the quoted passage, though, because I don't recall hearing anyone else express this. One thing about it that crosses my mind is that what it means to you in the here and now may be very different than what it means to someone else. For instance, although you and many ruggies who've been influenced by Mellaart's reports on Catal Huyuk see it as a pregnant goddess, someone unfamiliar with this line might see the motif as a depiction of a tent. Another may look at the negative space and see a pair of bird or serpent heads. A third might see it as a vase with flowers (upside down in the orientation show here) while a fourth might point out that it's an example of a motif that originated as a way to make something decorative and elaborate without introducing vertical lines, which create structural problems in slit tapestries. If I understand you correctly, they're all correct - what it means to each of them in the here and now is different, which is OK and even to be expected. Am I understanding your words correctly?

Regards

Steve Price

Yaser Al Saghrjie

hi hugh;
with the tufts your panel fragment has i would shift it a bit to the south of malatya; more precisely Urfa

Horst Nitz

Hugh, Steve

there is a social-psychological perspective on it:

http://socrates.berkeley.edu/~kihlstrm/SEP06.htm

Significantly more Aussies are likely to discover a kangaroo in a particular ambigious figure, in which others mainly see a whale. Lovely the study be Brugger & Brugger (1993) who found that children are more likely to discover a rabbit in the Ehrenstein / Wittgenstein Duck-Rabbit figure at around Easter, whilst in October they tend to see a duck in it. Short version: perception is an activity and much of what you see in something depends on what you want to see in it or what you are prepared to see in it (live's influences, social and cultural perspective, mood etc. come into it); in some borderline cases this may depend more on the inner eyes of the beholder than on the physical attributes of the object or on physiological processes.

Horst

Steve Price

Hi Horst

That's essentially been my view of the subject for years. Like nearly everyone else, I spent a lot of hours seeing familiar objects in cloud formations in my younger days, and it didn't take me very long to figure out that none of those objects existed external to my perceptions.

For the 18 months in which my university lent me (like a library book) to the National Science Foundation, my title was Director, Sensory Physiology and Perception Program. I always include the subjective and situational nature of perceptions in my human physiology course.

Regards

Steve Price

Michael Raysson

Dear Steve, Horst and Hugh,

When I first saw Hugh’s posting, I knew it was just a matter of time before someone arrived to head off and protect Turkotek from any symbolic/magic/ mystical incursions into the fabric of clear thinking.

From my own experiences and point of view, as you may know by now, I am fascinated by both the deep symbolic aspects of Oriental Rugs and also the deep animosity or, at least, the deep desire to ignore this aspect of Oriental Rugs by most Western rug collectors and academics.

I have discussed or tried to discuss this with many, many collectors, and most reply that either it is impossible at this juncture of history to understand what these people meant way back then in another culture totally alien to us, or that we are merely imposing our own ideas on the symbols and motifs which we see. (That is if they are even interested enough to engage in a conversation on the subject.)

At this point, the rather complete dismissal of this subject is almost as fascinating to me as the subject itself. I have come to the conclusion and am interested in hearing you defend against it, Steve, that deliberately ignoring the symbolic aspect of Oriental Rugs is in itself an extreme imposition of our own point of view and our own ideas on the rugs. Denuding the rugs of their inner meaning lets them fit into our conception of beauty and decoration without our having to come to grips with those parts of the rugs which are uncomfortable or even antagonistic to our rational constructs.

It is again interesting to me that Steve (and Horst) bring up the arbitrariness of the images we see in the motifs and symbols, using the examples, based on the symbol in Hugh’s rug, of a pregnant goddess, a tent, a pair of birds, serpent heads, or a vase of flowers. As a matter of fact, these are not arbitrary images off the top of your head, Steve, but rather archetypal and intended images of the culture in question and quite possibly were meant, one and all (at least, in the early stages of such symbols) to be seen and understood exactly as you have stated them.

Again, I am putting this forward not merely to be argumentative, but to gain understanding on both sides of the issue.

Michael Raysson

Steve Price

Hi Michael

First, let me correct the misconception that anyone here is deliberately ignoring the symbolic aspect of Oriental Rugs. The content of this thread is the most recent example that we do, in fact, include it.

On the other hand, we try to keep facts, subjective impressions, and opinions separate from each other, and we expect anyone who presents something as a fact to be prepared to share the basis on which he/she believes it to be a fact. That's true for anything that comes up, not just symbolic, mystical or intangible aspects of rugs. It's a common issue in attribution, for instance.

Now let's get to what I think is the heart of the matter you raise:
... bring up the arbitrariness of the images we see in the motifs and symbols, using the examples, based on the symbol in Hugh’s rug, of a pregnant goddess, a tent, a pair of birds, serpent heads, or a vase of flowers. As a matter of fact, these are not arbitrary images off the top of your head, Steve, but rather archetypal and intended images of the culture in question and quite possibly were meant, one and all (at least, in the early stages of such symbols) to be seen and understood exactly as you have stated them. (emphasis added)
It seems to me that any of those readings of the motif (and more; the list can be extended considerably) might have been archetypical and intended by the ancestral culture from which the kilim's weaver is descended. That, of course, also implies that they might not have been. But you just wrote that it is a fact that these are archetypical and intended images of that culture, which carries no implication that they might not have been. So, I raise the same question I've posed to you in the past: How do you know that this is a fact?

I'd be happy to come to grips with the symbolic aspects of rugs if anyone can tell me what those symbolic aspects are and, of course, how they came to know it. Further, my impression is that this is exactly the position that most ruggies have, which you misinterpret as a deep animosity or, at least, the deep desire to ignore this aspect of Oriental Rugs by most Western rug collectors and academics. The fact that rugs and weavings had mystical and religious significance to the weavers and their cultures is one of the major appeals of rugs (and of tribal arts in general, which is why so many ruggies also collect other forms of tribal art). Knowing what those mystical and religious significances were and how they were translated into the weavings is a consummation devoutly to be wished.

The question remains: How can we know those things on the basis of existing evidence?

Regards

Steve Price

Michael Raysson

Steve,

“The question remains : How can we know those things on the basis of existing evidence?”

Steve, I can only state my overwhelming experience: that when I ask that question to ruggies, I am rarely met with any sort of enthusiasm, that I am mostly met with antipathy, and that I am sometimes met with antagonism. It is certainly not that I would not be extremely interested in their experience on the subject or that I am not respectful. No, they buzz me off, either nicely or not so nicely. They just don’t seem to be interested. Period.

Once again, “How can we know those things on the basis of existing evidence?” Let us, you and I, and any others put our energies into finding out. Maybe we might make a few missteps or whatever, but let us do it and move forward!

Michael Raysson

Steve Price

Hi Michael

I can give you my own take on the subject, and I think many (perhaps most) ruggies share it. I have exhausted the avenues I know about for investigating the subject and don't believe I can accomplish anything by revisiting them. Add to that the facts that
1. so much of what's written regarding this subject appears to be dealer hype and/or collector fantasy and,
2. the few lines that at one time seemed promising (like Mellart's reports of his work at Catal Huyuk) turned out to be fraudulent.

You are most welcome to toss out your thoughts and see if anyone is able to run with them. On the other hand, I ask that you clearly differentiate opinions and facts. You should expect to be asked for the bases of both, but opinions need not be supported by evidence (or argument) that raises them much beyond the level of being plausible while facts require proof to some resonable level of certainty.

Regards

Steve Price

Michael Raysson

Well, Steve,

Here I see you also buzzing me off…in a very, very nice way, of course.

I did, of course, give examples (your examples, even) and I will now go a little further still:

*a pair of bird and/or serpent heads: In my collection of rugs and carpets, practically every one of them has this motif somewhere or other. If that is not archetypal or “archtypical”, then what is? I think it can possibly be agreed that this comes originally from the sun-bird and other mythic and magical bird creatures. It is protective, guardian-esk, transcendent guide, etc. throughout the rug making areas. That it often doubles as serpent god is not accidental, nor is it our imaginations. These two creatures represent good/evil spiritual/worldly and then morph into one. This is not anything I have just invented, as you should well know, Steve.

*a pregnant goddess: Forget about the Catal Huyuk mess, the goddess still was worshiped early on by these cultures. While the goddess does not loom big in my picture. it was pretty big in the picture of these cultures before Islamic times and the chances that this motif still carries that resonance is not far fetched.

*a tent: That the tent represented a microcosm of the universe for many of the nomadic peoples is well known also. I have an Ersari engsi with a representation of a yurt (topped by two double headed birds) with the yurt dark with a light tree of life winding round and the yurt door light with a dark tree of life. Below that yurt is an even smaller representation of a yurt. That a tent should be part of this magical motif is not unexpected.

Now, it is not absolutely definite that this motif contains all this, but I would say that it is a good place to start out and if anyone sees differently or has evidence to the contrary, well, we could have a good discussion. Of course, it is not definitive that we even know exactly where it was made, and as in many discussions herein, a guess is made and then others join in. The person who makes the first guess is not punished for not having all the facts. Neither do I, but I have given reasons, like them or not. If you want, I will give more.

Michael

Steve Price

Hi Michael

I don't disagree with any of what you just posted except the part about me buzzing you off. You asked for my position; I presented it as concisely as I could and said nothing judgemental about anyone.

The problem is, as is usually the case, to be able to identify the intent, meaning, and significance of any specific motif to the weaver or her ancestors. I have no doubt that birds, powerful animals, flowers, fire, water, homes, childbirth, death, gods, food, lightning, thunder, landslides, hallucinogens, volcanoes, stars, the sun, the moon, illness, etc., etc., etc., were all mysterious and often awe-inspiring. It's unthinkable to me that any of those things are absent from the historical iconography of weavings. The place I get bogged down (along with most ruggies) is identifying the motifs that represent each of those things or the evolved descendents of the motifs that did.

Sooner or later, we've got to deal with specifics. Let's take the elibelinde in Hugh's rug. What reason is there to select one from my list of possible readings three or four posts earlier (ignoring the fact that the list could be greatly expanded) as the archetypical meaning or to believe that the weaver who created this kilim about 50 years ago also intended for it to have that meaning (or any other - Marla's experience with Turkish weavers over the past several decades suggests that they simply weave motifs that they find interesting and marketable)? I think we agree that there are a very large number of plausible interpretations of elibelinde motif origin and even more that might be applicable to a 20th century version. How do we progress beyond this point?

Regards

Steve Price

Michael Raysson

Steve,

I don't think either Hugh or myself believes that the weaver who made his rug had any thoughts of what he or I have said in mind. In fact, I think Hugh's question was specifically asking what that motif may have meant long years before the "degenerate form" appeared on his rug.

Michael

Steve Price

Hi Michael

Fair enough. I'll gladly stop asking what the weaver had in mind. Rather than bore everyone by posting a slightly edited version of my last post, I ask that you (and anyone else) just ignore the parts that refer to the 20th century weaver.

Thanks.

Steve Price

Horst Nitz

Hi all who took part so far,

perhaps it would be better if we aimed lower and called what we see in rugs, less ambitiously just motifs or ornaments, because that is what they really are in most cases: decorations. Correctly applied the term symbol implies that we know what religious, magic, superstitious or other construction is behind it. That is where the trouble starts – because we normally don’t know. What we sometimes think we can identify as symbols are in fact transformations of symbols from one era into an other, a process which goes along with a loss of the innate meaning and ends with funny names like hands-on-hip (elli belinde), watertank (hawzi), car key (oto anahtar), wineglass– or crab border etc. Trying to approach the meaning through the names of the motifs that have been given to them - where the hands are on hip the womb and the mother-goddess can’t be far – are doomed, in my opinion.

We can compare it with an old map that does not correspond with the territory it is depicting. What happens is, you set off from Europe for India and hit on the Americas - and for that to happen you need an awful lot of luck on top of experienced seamanship. In other words, I agree that the depiction of a symbol of a mother goddess might have been an objective with early kilim weavers. Alas, they are long gone and can’t tell us what it was. There would have been several transformations since, which would have changed those symbols beyond recognition. That what sometimes is called the symbol of a mother goddess evidently is not, this can be demonstrated quite simply.

You remember? We had the fragment of a venerable old cicim up here a few weeks ago:





Blowing up the fragment and focussing on detail reveals something that is hardly more than a decorative corner solution:





Or can anybody see much deeper?

Regards, Horst

Michael Raysson

Hello Horst,

For those like me, (and possibly Hugh), it is not possible to aim lower, because I just am not interested in Oriental Rugs as merely decorative objects. And there’s the rub.

Michael

Marla Mallett

I was trying to stay out of this discussion, but I must question the phrase, MERELY DECORATIVE. We simply cannot conclude that visual imagery is of more value when it has literal associations. There are instances in which "decorative" or aesthetic achievements in a work are far more powerful than attached mystical, religious or symbolic meanings--even when we know what those are. The "decorative," or purely aesthetic aspects of a particular work may rise to absolutely sublime levels, while attached literal associations remain mundane or even distracting. Conversely, religious, mystical or symbolic imagery may totally lack aesthetic value.

Marla Mallett

Michael Raysson

Hi Marla,

And I, also, did not want to get into a long-winded discussion, so I tried to keep my comments to a bare minimum. However….

I see I now have to elaborate. But first, let me state that I am not herein (anyway) denigrating those who like rugs solely or more or less solely in a decorative way or in an aesthetic way. I don’t. Some people, perhaps you included, Marla, are not attracted to the mystical. I am. Some people do not care to know what the symbols on Oriental Rugs mean. I do. Some people are put off by Religious sentiment. And while I do not care for organized religion, I do deeply appreciate Religion, Spirituality and Devotion. I do not say (herein) that these are necessary to enjoy Oriental Rugs. They are necessary for me, Marla.

Marla, there is nothing literal or prosaic about meaning (in my experience). And I would say, that if it has a prosaic connotation for you, then, to me, you are missing the innate artistic and imaginative qualities of meaning. Perhaps you take meaning to be like a dictionary definition. I take meaning as a potentially infinite direction which can confer profundity on beauty.

Having said that, I find these things in abundance in Oriental Rugs. Others may not. For myself, I do not believe it is possible to achieve the greatest understanding and appreciation of Oriental carpets without attempting to know those aspects of them which we are discussing. Obviously, many others do not have this compulsion.

Horst, I agree that it is difficult to know these things. I don’t think it is impossible. I also understand, Horst, that it is easy to misinterpret the symbols or to put our own ideas into them, but, as I have said elsewhere, ignoring these aspects of Oriental Rugs, in my opinion, is also imposing our own view. By that, I mean, we look at Oriental Rugs according to our own paradigms and not those of the people who made them.

It is interesting that in the beginning, people gave the same criticisms (in my opinion) of those who broke new ground in art and science: it was impossible to understand. I fully expect any number of ruggies out there to jump on this statement. But I stand behind it. In fact, I would like to suggest that, if, instead of always jumping on the bandwagon against this, that we jump on the bandwagon for, then great progress would be made in understanding.

Anyway, enjoy Oriental Rugs any way you can. But these are things that burn deeply in my heart and which find inspiration and resonance in the works of the great artists who made the rugs.

Michael

Joel Greifinger

Hi Marla,

Those who are intent on spiritual ecstasy may find "mere" aesthetic sublimity a pale and mundane disappointment. For the rest of us, such a state is of inestimable value. I think when we get to this gulf in belief and expectations, we are at an unbridgeable divide.

Amen. Say goodnight, Gracie.

Joel Greifinger

James Blanchard

Hi all,

I tend to agree with Marla on this. I often wonder whether many ruggies have become socialized to focus excessively on issues of attribution, age and "tribal authenticity", ignoring the fact that some weavings and rugs exceed others aesthetically. Personally, I tend to straddle the fence on this. When I have enough knowledge to pick out an "older" weaving, it is very tempting to overlook issues of aesthetics, condition, etc. But I am also not above selecting a weaving that I think might have synthetic dyes simply because I am taken by the artistry and aesthetics displayed.

I would make a couple of comments. I think that as a general rule, in most contexts the later weaving periods resulted less creativity and artistry in the weaving, so older also tends to be better aesthetically, but there are still examples of weavings with outstanding aesthetics in more recent time periods. This seems to vary by weaving group, though. Also, I think our view of aesthetics tend to be conditioned by what he have learned to look for in older and "authentic" weavings. So I think that we often see beauty and ugliness in ways that others would not, and in ways that we wouldn't otherwise if we hadn't been conditioned about what makes a "good" rug.

James

Marla Mallett

One more thought: Whatever our personal proclivities or interests, it is legitimate to ask whether or not religious content makes a work of art inherently superior. I can, in fact, think of examples where religious symbolism has either been a distraction or has worked to the detriment of a more pure, abstract aesthetic expression. I've been involved with old Anatolian kilims for many years, and in the course of my business have studied and handled hundreds of pieces. I'm intimately familiar with several major collections of the best and earliest pieces extant, including those works in the Turkish Vakiflar collection (now in storage), and Josephine Powell's outstanding collection which now belongs to the Sadburk Hanum Museum. I can say without reservation that those pieces which provoke the most powerful aesthetic reactions are all large major works, and NOT those pieces made specifically for religious purposes--the seccade or namazliks designed with overt religious symbolism. I simply can't call to mind a single Anatolian "prayer kilim" that ranks among the most outstanding, sublime examples within this fantastic, expressive art form. "Mere aesthetics" definitely trumps those works with their clear religious focus.

Marla

Filiberto Boncompagni

I Michael,

I think we have to distinguish between “decoration” and “aesthetic value”.

I do not think that collectors - at least, the ones participating to discussions here at Turkotek - are interested in Oriental Rugs as merely decorative objects.

To give you an example: I can buy an IKEA sofa because it fits “decoratively” well with the rest of my furniture.

I buy a rug because I like it for its intrinsic beauty NOT because it will be a good decoration for my living room.

I buy a rug because it gives me sensorial satisfaction, I love to watch it, touch it. That’s for the aesthetic part – but there’s more: it's also a token of a different, exotic, mostly disappearing culture (speaking about tribal textiles, of course, not city carpets). I could go on but I prefer giving you another example.

A few years ago I visited a new museum, the Musée du quai Branly, known in English as the Quai Branly Museum, in Paris, France, that features indigenous art, cultures and civilizations from Africa, Asia, Oceania and the Americas. See link:

http://www.quaibranly.fr/en/accueil.html

It was quite disappointing on the side of Oriental Rugs. On the other hand I was fascinated by most of the objects exposed ESPECIALLY by the artifacts of Oceania.

I saw wonderful, powerful sculptures that possessed without any doubt mystical, religious and symbolic meanings of which I knew absolutely nothing. They were aesthetically striking, nevertheless.

Possibly, though, it wasn’t only the beauty of them that made them attractive. Possibly there was something else. A subconscious response, an “inner cord” vibrating, I don’t know. Perhaps this is what you are speaking about.

In short, I would be very happy to host one of those artifacts in my living room, NOT because it will fit well with the rest of my Ikea furniture but for the pleasure of having it, watching it etc, just like a rug. Even if I don’t know anything about its meaning/purpose/symbolism.

So, speaking about symbolism in rugs and the likely impossibility to know its real meanings, intentions of the weavers and so on… This fact doesn’t detract me from appreciating a rug as a work of art.
That’s probably what art is: something that attracts not only aesthetically but for something else deeper, something one cannot rationalize verbally.
Regards,

Filiberto

Steve Price

Hi Filiberto

Very well said. I think this expresses the attraction rugs hold for collectors just about perfectly.

The word "decorative" has been used two ways in this thread, and I think this confounds the issues. Horst and Marla, if my memory is working at the moment, both refer to motifs and design elements as decoration, selected by the weavers for their decorative value. Michael talks about how he finds rugs as decoration outside his interest. Filiberto argued that this is true for most collectors as well.

Speaking for myself (and, I know, for many other collectors), I have many more rugs and textiles than I can display in my home. Nevertheless, I (we) get pleasure from taking pieces out of their storage areas and privately examining them. From the chair in front of my computer at home, 7 wonderful textiles are in sight. They don't just decorate the room.

Regards

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

I have a major problem with the notion that the "exotic" element is such an important component in our appreciation of the rugs we collect. This is a hollow and transitory value, if when one immerses oneself in that alien culture and gradually becomes comfortable within it, the object then becomes less interesting. If a work's impact is dependent upon its mystery, it must somehow be deficient as a work of art. Better understanding the cultural context should draw us closer to understanding the artist's original intent, distilling and increasing the communicative power of that individual's expression.

Marla

Marla Mallett

Filberto and Steve, I've been talking about rugs as powerful aesthetic expressions, not as wallpaper.

Marla

Steve Price

Hi Marla

I think vicarious "participation" in some exotic culture is a significant element to rug collecting, especially collecting tribal rugs. The 19th century orientalist movement provides evidence that this isn't something new; prayer rugs and gazebos with minarets were very much part of the period in Europe. I also note that many ruggies also collect tribal arts from Africa, Asia, Oceania and the Americas.

Many of us believe that really understanding the exotic cultures is out of reach, as is understanding many of the elements of the arts and crafts of those cultures. But there's still something moving about holding, say, a Yoruba ibeji and realizing that to its original owner it didn't simply represent a twin that died during infancy, it actually was the deceased twin.

Although I don't know what most motifs, designs, layouts or colors meant to weavers who used them centuries ago, the mere fact that they were once seen as supernatural adds to their fascination and I've learned to accept that what I can hope to know about them is extremely limited. I also accept the fact that others believe that a great deal can be known about those things, I just happen to disagree with that position.

Ultimately, I decide what I want to own (rug-wise) mostly on aesthetic grounds with spousal approval superimposed on them, but there's more to it than that.

Regards

Steve Price

Steve Price

Hi Marla

I understand that, and I'm sure Filiberto does as well. I apologize for not expressing myself more clearly.

Regards

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

Steve,

Actually the late 19th century European Orientalist painters and the Orientalist craze of that time make a quite good analogy. What those painters presented was fantasy--not a true picture of Oriental life. That seems exactly what some current day rug collectors crave and what many merchants today dish out so freely. Fantasies with no foundation in fact.

Marla

Steve Price

Hi Marla

No disagreement here. I do try (usually successfully) not to confuse fantasy with reality. The 19th century European with a "Turkish garden" on his grounds surely also understood that it wasn't REALLY a Turkish garden, it simply evoked some images that were fun, pleasant, fashionable, and maybe even intellectually provocative. The movement spilled over into lots of things besides painting and garden architecture, ("Turkish" marches in music by Haydn and Beethoven, for example) and became embedded in a number of arts.

Regards

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

One more thought concerning the appeal of the "exotic"... Personally, an exotic aura may have been one reason I was initially drawn to the pieces, though this was mitigated by the common weavers' tendency to feel a kinship with other weavers, wherever they were--and hokey as that sounds. But over the years, as I spent more and more time with nomad and village weavers in Turkey, and as the "exotic" aura dissipated, my passion and love for the pieces became much more intense, not less. The weavings became real women's products and expressions instead of mysterious objects. My family and friends can attest to the fact that I am far too obsessed with old Anatolian nomadic weavings ...certainly more than if I was dealing merely with the standard rug book fantasies and marketplace spin surrounding them.

Marla

Steve Price

Hi Marla

Interesting. It's probably too late for me to become much of a weaver, but I'll put it on the to-do list for my next incarnation.

Regards

Steve Price

Michael Raysson

Hello all,

It seems to me we have to establish a few basic premises.

*Symbolic content is a large part of Oriental Rugs. This is not fantasy or imagination. It is a fact anyone can see for themselves.

*Many of the people in the cultures that made the rugs were more or less illiterate and the rugs, besides serving practical purposes, served as their expression of their beliefs in lieu of books and other artwork.
I think we all agree on this.

*At one time, this symbolic content was extremely important to the people who made the rugs. Over the course of time, due to the impingement of modern society, conquests, commercialism, etc. the meanings of the symbols were lost to a smaller or larger extent and the symbols became less important. This is generally accepted.

So, are these things highly important and highly real? I reply with a big “Yes”. These are not fantasies.

Now, if Marla loved hanging out with the women weavers of Anatolia, and if this fanned the flames of her love for weaving and the products of the women, well and good. If this helped to enlarge her understanding, great. That is her story and she came by it honestly, I guess. If Marla does not like religion and finds it a degrading factor in art, then she is welcome to use that as a criteria in her own judgments, but it is not an objective standard for all.

Each of us has our own story and the rugs also have their own stories. I don’t believe that to be interested in the stories of the rugs makes them any less great and possibly, like Marla’s increasing familiarity with the weavers, it can make them even more interesting and profound (at least to some of us).

Michael

Steve Price

Hi Michael

You wrote:
*Symbolic content is a large part of Oriental Rugs. This is not fantasy or imagination. It is a fact anyone can see for themselves.

*Many of the people in the cultures that made the rugs were more or less illiterate and the rugs, besides serving practical purposes, served as their expression of their beliefs in lieu of books and other artwork.
I think we all agree on this.

*At one time, this symbolic content was extremely important to the people who made the rugs. Over the course of time, due to the impingement of modern society, conquests, commercialism, etc. the meanings of the symbols were lost to a smaller or larger extent and the symbols became less important. This is generally accepted.

So, are these things highly important and highly real? I reply with a big “Yes”. These are not fantasies.

You're right about most of that. The symbolic content of rugs almost certainly was extremely important at some times in the past. I don't disagree annd I'll be surprised if Marla (or anyone else who collects rugs) does either. The real issue dividing us is that I don't think we have an understanding of the important meanings of those symbols. Some people believe that they are enlightened to the point of being able to understand and productively discuss those meanings. That is the fantasizing to which I referred. I can't speak for anyone else, but I suspect that Marla, Horst, et al. were referring to the same fantasies.

Regards

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

Michael,

I submit that your "Basic Premises" are your BELIEFS, not FACTS that can be verified. THEY MAY OR MAY NOT BE TRUE. Constant repetition does not transform speculation or beliefs into facts. Nor does desperately wanting to believe make them true. "Generally accepted" ideas in this case seems merely to mean that the notions have been parroted continually in both the marketplace and in published promotional materials in lieu of anything more substantial or verifiable. Only the most naive readers should be expected to accept commercial sales pitches uncritically. We need to keep in mind that the vast majority of rug literature has been dealers' promotional material or collectors' vanity pieces.

You seem always to cite your theories in reference to a vague category termed "Oriental Rugs." That encompasses a hugely diverse body of material--ranging geographically from Morocco to China and substantively from tribal art through cottage industry weavings, city workshop products and textile art commissioned by the courts. It encompasses a wide variety of types of weaving. Your arguments might be more meaningful if you applied them more specifically.

Marla

Marla Mallett

Michael,

I'll explain a bit more what I mean. I find your sweeping generalizations simply not applicable throughout the Oriental Rug world. It would require a vivid imagination indeed to read any ideational meaning or symbolism into the typical beautiful old Berber Zaer Hambel from the Middle Atlas Mountains of Morocco. At the other extreme, Chinese symbolism is so codified and detailed in historical writings that little doubt remains as to the ideational content of those carpets. The same symbolism is paralleled in Chinese textiles and other arts produced for the court and upper classes. Unfortunately, with Western and Central Asian tribal woven art we are simply left to speculate as to most content. At least with regard to nearly all products except for those with overt religious representations such as the arches or mihrabs in pieces dubbed "namazliks." Even this imagery has been the subject of long, unresolved debates as to specific local meanings.

We have gotten little help with any of this from anthropologists, archaeologists or historians--from credible academics who document what they write. For a short time the kilim world was abuzz with Mother Goddess sightings everywhere--in a wide variety of forms. That is, until the supporting archaeological materials were shown to be fraudulent. Since then, in some quarters folks simply have not been able to let go of those fantasies--though there is absolutely NO evidence that a mother goddess cult ever existed in Anatolia. That fantasy was so beloved that Mother Goddess disciples completely ignored the fact that the nomadic kilim weavers were primarily Turkmen who had moved westward into Anatolia--not Anatolian natives who were descendants of the imaginary Neolithic goddess cult weavers. It is amazing how facts can be completely twisted or ignored to promote a pet theory.

Marla

Filiberto Boncompagni

Hi Marla, Steve,

I don’t like to digress but it’s YOU that brought up the subject of Orientalist painters.
Since I held a Salon on the subject: Rugs in Orientalist paintings, it’s my duty to warn you: don`t throw away the baby with the dirty water. I

There were some Orientalists that had a quite good degree of faithfulness to the reality. It wasn’t all fantasy. I may elaborate if you like but, again, I don’t like to digress.
Regards,

Filiberto

Steve Price

Hi Filiberto

You're right, absolutely.

My point was simply that oriental fantasy isn't a new phenomenon; it was in fashion among the upper class in 19th century Europe, as reflected by minarets on gazebos in their "Turkish" gardens, the incorporation of Turkish themes in music, prayer rugs in their homes, orientalist paintings on their walls. While some of the rugs depicted in those paintings were accurate, the attraction was probably the same fantasies that made the minarets, prayer rugs and Turkish sounding musical themes popular at the time. That might not be the case, but all those things were going on at the same time, which makes me think it wasn't pure coincidence.

But my referring to all orientalist painters as generating fantasy depictions was too hasty, and incorrect.

Regards

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

Hi Filiberto,

You are of course right in pointing out that several kinds of rugs were depicted accurately by many of the Orientalist painters. It's fun to look through your Salon essays again. From the huge quantities of Caucasian and Turkish rugs exported to Europe in the second half of the 19th century, many certainly must have been available as studio props. We know indeed that some of the most well-known European painters were avid collectors of Oriental paraphernalia. As you even pointed out in your Salon essay, some of the same rugs appeared in multiple contexts.

That these painters so freely mixed Caucasian, Turkish, Syrian and Uzbek rugs and textiles with Egyptian and late Ottoman architectural details in romantic depictions of public market scenes or mosques hardly inspires much confidence that we are being given credible insights into "Oriental life." Certainly not the life of the weavers. Nor do idyllic harem scenes tell us much about the life of the times or what might have inspired the weavers of the village rugs shown. They merely fed European fantasies. Caucasian rugs spread on the desert sands of "Bedouin encampments"--rather than Bedouin weavings--are difficult to explain. In all of those North African scenes, where are the North African rugs? Most of the Cairo "rug merchants" are shown displaying inventories of Caucasian rugs. About all that these paintings "document" is the European craze for the exotic, and the kind of commercial rug marketing that was occurring at the time in Europe.

Marla

Steve Pendleton

>many certainly must have been available as studio props
You see the same effect in old movies. The prop departments at the Hollywood studios had a good supply of rugs (some amazing, some ordinary) they used for set decoration.The old-style Cecil B. Demille-type costume dramas often show textiles that are wildly wrong for the time and place. Fifteen-centrury kings stand on 1920's Sarouks, and Native American villagers ignore their antique Anatolian kilims. Films show us what you could get on the market back then, and what happens when set designers choose things that photograph well without knowing what they are.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to the prop rugs after the studio system faded away. Maybe someday we need a thread for things like 'exactly what is that nice runner near the fire place in North by Northwest, in the scene where James Mason interviews Cary Grant?'
/Steve Pendleton /

James Blanchard

Hi Marla,

I certainly understand how your connection to the weavers has intensified by developing a personal connection to weavers today. But you mention that you are obsessed with old Anatolian nomadic weavings. Might I ask whether your connection with weavers hear and now has led to a greater appreciation for recent weavings?

James

Marla Mallett

James,

It's a rather embarrassing question you have posed: Have my contacts with current-day weavers increased my appreciation for recent weavings? The short answer, unfortunately, is a qualified No. Contacts with isolated nomadic weaving families and recently settled villagers have given me a more realistic understanding of what the ethnographic weaving traditions may have meant to their predecessors, as their life styles, religious beliefs, attitudes toward the work, and weaving processes appear to not have changed significantly in recent years. It's the most conservative nomadic and semi-nomadic groups that have clung most tenaciously to old customs and weaving traditions, and regretfully, there are not many of these folks left. But we all--including those weavers themselves--realize that there has been an unfortunate deterioration in quality. This is partly due to inferior materials such as machine-carded wool (instead of the laboriously combed wool in older pieces), and harsh synthetic dyes. I've been with some of those ladies when we have looked through old kilims--the Vakiflar donations--in their nearby mosques, and they are as awed as I am by the strength, power, artistic brilliance and exemplary craftsmanship displayed. Sometimes women have proudly displayed heirloom pieces made by a grandmother that are clearly superior to their own work--most often tattered old bag faces. Community standards are simply lower now. So while I enjoy these women immensely, and I can often admire their weaving skills and attitudes, their weavings rarely come close to matching the quality of 19th century or earlier pieces. As for the products of current commercial efforts to "revive" old traditions, I find those quite uninteresting, as nearly all are copywork that lacks the vitality of ethnographic weavings.

Marla

Filiberto Boncompagni

Hi Marla,

Let's go by order: my first objection was to the notion that Orientalist painters’ work was purely fantasy… which could be true or not, depending on the artist.
It is ABSOLUTELY true for the ones who never set foot in the Orient... but some others did travel, though, and a few of them quite extensively.

Salon 105 was about artists who:
A - did visit the Orient
AND
B - included recognizable textiles in their work.

OK, so we found out that the works presented in Salon 105 had various degrees of “faithfulness” to reality.

Unfortunately, I had to leave out some other very important Orientalists because they were lacking point B: no recognizable textiles.

Like Achille-Constant-Théodore-Émile Prisse d'Avennes (1807 – 1879) who was also an Egyptologist: he explored Syria, Arabia, Persia, and resided in Egypt and Algeria. He was very important for the documentation he made about Islamic Art. See a couple of examples:





Perhaps the most famous was David Roberts (1796–1864). From 1838 to 1840 he made a long tour in Egypt, Nubia, the Sinai, the Holy Land, Jordan and Lebanon. While in Cairo, according to a book on his work “he became the first Westerner to be permitted to enter a mosque to draw the interior”. Two examples of his works here:





Just to make the point that these weren’t works of fantasy.

Now, about your doubts on “freely mixed Caucasian, Turkish, Syrian and Uzbek rugs and textiles with Egyptian and late Ottoman architectural” and “Most of the Cairo "rug merchants" are shown displaying inventories of Caucasian rugs.” I have to quote parts of my conclusion at the end of Salon 105:
Let me elaborate further:

- at the time of the Orientalists painters the Middle East was mostly under the Ottoman Empire
- Istanbul was already the center of the rug trade since long time (I remember having read somewhere that even Persian rugs where thought as “Turkish” in the West because they all came through Istanbul.)
- Orientals were avid “consumers” of rugs ages before Westerners: it’s part of their culture after all.
- The quality of North African production wasn’t comparable to the one of Anatolian, Turkmen, Caucasian or Persian rugs (the manufacture of Cairene Mamluk carpets was long gone).
- Cairo rugs merchant were probably offering the same wares of their Istanbul counterparts.
- Last time I went to Istanbul, the Arasta bazaar offered plenty of Caucasian rugs – hu, and Uzbek suzanis as well.

Regards,

Filiberto

Marla Mallett

Hi Filiberto,

I can't argue that there were not accurate images of Ottoman Egypt and Turkey produced during the 19th century by Europeans. The mosque/scholar and marketplace scenes by d'Avennes that you've just now posted are certainly more serious depictions of Egyptian subjects than the romanticized versions by the artists normally classified as "Orientalists" and featured in your Salon essay. Likewise, both architectural and ethnographic photography from the period show far more down-to-earth, much less glamorous or fanciful views of Egypt, Syria, Palestine and Turkey during that time. The Orientalist paintings of Bedouin nomads in the Sinai with their non-Bedouin rugs, are about as authentically Egyptian as the souvenir snapshots of tourists on camels routinely made at the Giza pyramids today.

To think that male European painters would have been granted access to Ottoman harems and baths with young odalisques lounging about seems pretty far-fetched. We need only compare austere 19th century photographs of Egyptian or Turkish women with either the London studio photos of gussied up, exotically costumed ladies reclining on their Caucasian rugs with narghiles at hand, or with the saccharine Orientalist paintings of harem ladies, to realize that they are worlds apart.

Since virtually every important Mamluk and Ottoman mosque and monument (those in Egypt at least) was photographed repeatedly by late 19th century Europeans, intricate architectural details and tile-work could be convincingly depicted at home in a painter's studio whether or not he did any travelling. Although I am familiar with one 19th century photo of Cairo rug merchants (it's actually on my website), I can't recall rugs in photographs of 19th century Egyptian interiors. Have I just missed them?

Marla

Filiberto Boncompagni

Hi Marla,

When I prepared the salon I searched desperately for any old photos of Egyptian interiors and found nothing.
In D’Avennes’ "L’Art Arabe", though, there are some interiors with rugs (now I remember that I did not use them because I acquired the book months after the Salon).

I have no time for scans but you can see them in the NYPL Digital Gallery here and here.
There, you can also browse through D’Avennes’ work.
Regards,

Filiberto

Marla Mallett

Hi Filiberto,

Many thanks for that link.

I forgot to address your remarks concerning Caucasian rugs in Istanbul. You are certainly correct that they are available everywhere there now. But this is a recent development. During the 1970s and 1980s they were NOT frequently seen there. The flood gates opened in 1990 with the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the opening of the borders of Azerbaijan, Georgia and Armenia. From that time on, pile carpets, kilims and soumak pieces from the Caucasus have been plentiful everywhere, and in the early 90s all one had to do was stop traders on Istanbul streets (with their heavy fur hats and nylon satchels) and ask if they had old kilims. One then got an impromptu showing on the spot.

I think it is difficult to know what commercial patterns might have been in the second half of the 19th century when so many Caucasian rugs were exported to Europe. Do we know what route those things took? Whether they were sold and transported through the Ottoman Empire or purchased by European dealers in cities like Tbilisi and Baku and the goods sent directly to Europe? it's most logical to assume that large commercial transactions were direct. Why would merchants choose to pay additional tariffs and profits to Turkish middlemen? Likewise, do we know how much of a market there was for Caucasian goods in Turkey then, or exactly how active at any one time Turks have been in protecting their local rug-producers? I've seen at first hand how erratic Turkish governmental protectionism has been over the past 30 years...how frequently regulations have changed, and how the quantity of goods smuggled into Turkey has varied from time to time. I witnessed one astonishing incident, seven or eight years ago, when the police confiscated nearly the entire Caucasian inventory of a small shop belonging to an Istanbul friend.

To go back to earlier issues, I personally have encountered very few Caucasian rugs in North Africa--either in Egypt or in Morocco. Over several years, I have seen only a couple of such pieces in Egypt and one in Morocco. In each case when I have asked where they were obtained, the owners have said that an older family member purchased them as souvenirs from traders when on their trips to Mecca. It's indeed startling to see a Cheleberd hanging high in the back corner of a shop devoted to Berber hambels and Rabat carpets.

Local taste in Cairo evidentally runs to floral workshop rugs, as it is Persian, Indian and cheap Turkish floral carpets that form the bulk of the rug store inventories there. Bedouin pieces are more scarce in the markets. In recent years Egyptian entrepreneurs have been experimenting with several kind of production locally; indeed I have one friend who is having his folks weave pseudo Turkish kilims. It seems as though just about everybody has made at least one attempt at Mamluk designs.

Marla

Steve Price

Hi Marla

I think the scarcity of Caucasian rugs in the 1970's and 1980's was a result of an assortment of policies of the Soviet government, probably related to the ruble being a non-exchangeable currency. My impression form conversations with older dealers is that they were plentiful in markets before the incorporation of the Caucasian states into the USSR (around 1915-1920). The influx of Caucasian rugs around 1990 resulted from the collapse of the USSR. I don't think it was the first time in history that they were easy to find in places like Istanbul, just the first time in many decades. My guess is that 19th century orientalist painters saw lots of them in Europe, and that many got to Europe through Istanbul.

I'll try to see what Wertime/Wright have to say on the subject a little later.

Regards

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

Hi Steve and Filiberto,

I'm wondering...Do you by chance know of Caucasian rugs in any major public or private Turkish collections? I don't, aside from a few 17th century dragon rugs (the exact origins of which are still, of course, being debated). Persian carpets found favor in the Ottoman courts, and so these, as well as copies, figure prominently in collections such as the Yildiz, Topkapi and Domabache collections, though most of those are currently in storage. Have you seen any early Turkish drawings, paintings, engravings or photos that show Caucasian rugs? Have you ever seen a Caucasian rug in a Turkish mosque, along with the Vakiflar donations? Or seen them in the lists of mosque or museum properties? Though there were plenty in Europe for Orientalist painters to see, where could we expect that 19th century European travelers might have seen Caucasian rugs in luxurious Turkish architectural settings? Either religious or domestic settings?

Marla

Steve Price

Hi Marla

I've never been lucky enough to see any of the rugs in the Topkapi collection, and I've been in Istanbul a number of times. I've been in a lot of mosques in Turkey, but never saw a rug worth remembering in any of them. All new production, large numbers of identical rugs usually.

I guess the short answer from me is, no I've not seen a Caucasian rug in a Turkish mosque or museum. Likewise for anything except workshop carpets that weren't interesting enough to have me give the geographic origins any thought.

Regards

Steve Price

Filiberto Boncompagni

Hi Marla,
Yours are legitimate questions. Now I don’t have time for further discussion or research.
I’ll try this evening. In the meantime have a look at this thread:

http://www.turkotek.com/salon_00105/s105t3.htm

One of the paintings of the thread:



It was difficult to find out when the painting was made. Eventually I found this:

Having trained with Gérôme in Paris, Hamdi Bey returned to his native Constantinople, where he founded and directed the city's archaeological museum, as well as its academy of fine arts. A hugely accomplished figure, in his paintings Hamdi Bey drew on orientalist imagery, while at the same time subjecting it to ironic treatment, as in his 1888 painting of European tourists shopping for oriental souvenirs.

Regards,

Filiberto

Pierre Galafassi

Hi Marla, Filiberto and Steve,

A modest contribution to your very interesting discussion.
Both canvas below are by Osman Hamdi Bey (already mentioned several times by Filiberto). I believe that the painter was from a Turkish upper class family and had firsthand knowledge and free access to Ottoman interiors. IMHO his descriptions are as credible as can be, surely superior from this point of view to the romantic-erotic fantasies of most orientalist painters, even those who actually visited the Maghreb, Egypt or Istanbul, at least once.
It seems to me that one, perhaps two of the rugs and kilims shown in these 1880-1890 Turkish scenes could be Caucasian. Would you agree?

A.Osman Hamdi Bey. 1880-1890. A Turkish interior.


B.Osman Hamdi Bey. 1881. A lady of constantinople.


Besides, I share Marla’s opinion: Caucasian rugs indeed must have been pretty rare in 19th-early 20th century Anatolian mosques: In «Turkish Handwoven Carpets» a catalog with pics of over 500 rugs kept in Turkish museums and vakiflars, only a handful are identified as Caucasian. In Balpinar/Hirsch’s description of rugs of the Vakiflar Museum in Istanbul, only about eight are Caucasian (seven of them being «dragon rugs»).
Given the history of the region during the last half of the 19th century, I do not find these facts too surprising.

Best regards.
Pierre

Marla Mallett

Hi Filiberto and Steve,

The inclusion of the same Anatolian rug in this painting by Osman Hamdi and in the following painting, as well, showing it in another context ("Two Ladies in a Shrine"), suggests pretty strongly that these rugs were studio props, doesn't it?

The more that one looks at and thinks about these groups of Orientalist paintings, the more anachronisms begin to pop out. One example is the Rudolph Ernst painting on your 4th Salon Essay page entitled "An Afternoon Show," with a dancing bear. Bears led through the Istanbul streets by men from the Gypsy Quarter to entertain tourists have been a long tradition in Istanbul, and they were indeed mentioned by 19th century travel writers. I, myself, saw them a few times on the street in front of the Oran Hotel in Lalalai where many of us stayed back in the early 1980s. Well, the bear in this painting is standing on a Ladik prayer rug! A serious sacrilege that surely would not have been tolerated! Also astonishing is the fact that the building clearly portrayed in the painting is not Turkish, but is an Egyptian Mamluk mosque or tomb. This guy either mixed up his reference file of architectural photos, or he simply didn't care.

------------------------
A great many small town and village mosques throughout the rug-producing areas of Anatolia still have floors covered with layers of old rugs and kilims--Vakiflar donations. They are sometimes great fun to look through, but I certainly have never encountered a 19th century Caucasian example in those circumstances. There are indeed a few dragon rugs in the Vakiflar Museum collection. Rugs from Armenia have met with especially strong disapproval by Turkish authorities, and publications including those rugs have been censored and their importation prohibited. I'm not sure how long back that animosity existed.

The Vakiflar tradition of gifts to mosques did not extend to Egypt and Morocco, so it is certainly problematic to find prayer rugs shown in Orientalist paintings of mosque interiors there. Though Egyptian mosques are completely accessible, entrance to Moroccan mosques has for a long time--at least according to 19th century travelers' reports-- been forbidden to infidels. Even today, only one major mosque in the country (one that is now a museum in the area between Fez and Meknes) is open to non-Muslins.

Marla

Marla Mallett

Hi Pierre,

The rug/textile items in your first painting look like a folded Turkish kilim, an Azeri soumak bag, and a Northeastern Anatolian (Kars area) carpet. It's an assortment that seems to represent the sort of pieces far more likely to be found in Europe, than in a Turkish Pasha's residence where fancy workshop or Persian carpets were the fashion. After all, these painters were catering more to European tastes than to those of Turkish audiences.

Marla

Pierre Galafassi

Hi Marla,

Most orientalist painters let their imagination wander freely. Which was of course their perfect right as artists. Besides, their fantasy world certainly satisfied a strong customer demand in Europe/USA and was coherent with the colonial stereotypes of the time.

The most trustworthy orientalist painters, from an ethnological point of view, like John Frederick Lewis (who made Cairo his home for many years), Vasily Vereshchagin (who followed the Russian army in Turkestan and Turkey and travelled extensively through Central Asia), David Roberts, Emile Prisse D’Avesne (a universal genius with a passion for Egypt) or Osman Hamdi Bey (a member of the Ottoman elite), unfortunately had a very limited interest for carpets and rarely integrated them in their drawings and paintings. I would not fully exclude though, that when they did paint rugs, they painted what they saw.

Regards
Pierre

Filiberto Boncompagni

Hi Marla,
Of course it does. Perhaps it’s better if I quote in full my conclusion to the “Orientalists” Salon:

One of the reasons for this Salon was to assess the truthfulness of the scenes depicted by Orientalist painters, with a particular regard to rugs. (1)

My opinion is that the paintings were reasonably faithful to the reality.

I said reasonably because:
1 - the artists being - well - "artists", they were not committed to an accurate rendering of the reality.
2 - for practical and technical reasons the painters generally had the chance to make only sketches (or, in the best of the cases, photos) of the scenes they saw - making the finished painting much later and in a different location, usually their studios.

Thus an Orientalist painting might present a collage of different elements and different levels of plausibility…

As far as rugs are concerned, I think a good deal of them belonged to the artists and were used as accessories during the "studio" reconstruction of the "Oriental scenes". This is proved by the fact that we can recognize the same rugs in different paintings by the same author.

Still, there are several cases in which the rugs seem really to belong to the scene. The use of photography by Orientalist painters is historically recorded, and this makes that possibility credible enough.

I had some doubts about the presence at the time of Caucasian rugs in Egyptian or - more broadly - in North-African scenery but some contemporary photos seem to give plausibility to such a presence.
After all, the center of rug trade at the time was Istanbul and it supplied both the West and the Middle East…
If in the last quarter of the 19th century Caucasian rugs found their way to Europe where they encountered a remarkable success, I think they became fashionable in the Orient as well - and the Orientalist paintings show that.

(1)There were Orientalist artists who never traveled abroad The ones under scrutiny were, of course, those painters who really traveled in the "Orient"

Osman Hamdi Bey was no exception and it is reported the fact that he collaborated with Pascal Sebah (1823-1886) who was a leading photographer in Constantinople, now the city of Istanbul. Osman Hamdi Bey posed models, often dressed in elaborate costumes, for Sebah to photograph. The painter then used Sebah's photographs for his celebrated Orientalist oil paintings.
The question is: from were Osman Hamdi Bey got those Caucasian carpets?

Osman went to Paris in 1860 and stayed there nine years training in painting under French orientalist painters Jean-Léon Gérôme and Gustave Boulanger. Then he went back to Turkey.
Did he buy them in Paris? Or he found them in Istanbul, where he used the photos of Pascal Sebah (or, I guess, of his son since Sebah senior died in 1886 and the painting above should be of 1888).

To me, the simplest explanation seems that he found them in Istanbul.
I’ll search on the matter, though.
Regards,

Filiberto
P.S. Pierre, Frederick Lewis would have been a perfect “witness” – unfortunately, as you say, I couldn’t find any rug in his paintings.

Hugh Rance

I thought Turkotek readers might be interested to see some example of the actual goddess figures excavated at Çatalhöyük and Hacilar: http://picasaweb.google.com/hughrance/CatalhoyukHacilar

Many people have chipped in to the debate on Mellaart and his discredited account of connections between wall paintings he claimed to have seen (but not photographically recorded) from Çatalhöyük with motifs in Anatolian kilims. My memory from the time and from recollections of discussions with Max Mallowan was that Mellaart became a persona non grata and excavations were stopped by the Turkish government because of accusations of misappropriation of archaeological finds. However, the excavations themselves have left a remarkable legacy and record of what was possibly the first settled agrarian Neolithic civilisation in Europe.

Clearly there was an ancient tradition of producing mother goddess figurines in the region in the Neolithic era and of placing them in niches along with other figurines such as bull heads for ritual or religious (in the wider sense) purposes. This tradition was by no means confined to Anatolia and a more ancient tradition goes back at least to the Paleolithic era and direct comparisons can be made with figurines from other parts of Europe, the Middle East and Indian subcontinent. One interesting aspect of a more recent find from the current series of excavations (see the latter photos in my link above) is the discovery of a “goddess” figurine which exhibits features of both pregnancy/fertility and perhaps death through the depictions of emaciated limbs and skeletal protrusion. There are also parallels here with figurines from other cultures.

Personally I have not be influenced in any way by Mellaarts reports, contrary to the unfounded assertion by Steve in his post following my last contribution. I have however taken the time to read his excavation reports and study some the actual finds made, along with other earlier Paleolithic figurines in the British Museum, thanks to being in the right place at the right time while studying at University College London in London in the 1970s and 80s. I have however been influenced in my own work and my understanding of ancient cultures by the remarkable finds he and others have made, particularly the sculptures. Incidentally, most of the Neolithic female figurines from Anatolia exhibit a hands on breasts posture although a few do show a hands on hips or thighs posture. Whatever one wants to make of them and however one might interpret them, they are remarkable figures in their own right.

To give a little more insight into how the creative process works, here is a woodcut I made having studied one of the figurines from Çatalhöyük. The point of sharing this image is to show how an artist may be inspired by and copy or borrow from other work, but at the same time give birth to a new element which may contribute a different perspective on even a fresh insight into the original. I am not making any claims for my own woodcut and this isn’t about the merits or otherwise of the image, I am trying to explain the process. So, having taken one of the Çatalhöyük figurines as a starting point other elements added themselves. There was no conscious intention in producing the I II III cage-like structure with birds, nor any conscious intention to depict the birds in any particular way. Indeed, at the time I had no idea these images would even become birds.

So, having started with the bare idea of the female form and having cut the woodblock quite spontaneously without any predetermined outcome, it presented itself with what now appear to be symbolic birds tied into a numeric cage. What does this mean? On one hand it is just a picture or illustration, on the other it appears to have a meaning. Who is to say exactly what that is. One may speculate about sexuality, fertility, childbirth, time, death, etc. all of which might be construed from an intellectual analysis of the combined elements in the woodcut. One might also just enjoy it and if consider whether an image we look at has its own way of communicating with us subliminally, bypassing the often rigid intellectual and judgmental filters that we impose on our consciousness. If we are open to the possibility that meaningful images might affect us then this becomes a possibility. If we are closed to the possibility, then clearly this can never happen.

As the Chinese Zen Master Rinzai said:

“When you meet a master swordsman,
show him your sword.
When you meet a man who is not a poet,
do not show him your poem.”

Perhaps I should have taken his advice?



P.s. Thank you Yaser Al Saghrjie for your attribution of the origin of my kilim that started off this thread.

p.p.s. Anyone interested in reading an in depth study of how motifs have developed over the millennia in different tribal cultures would be interested to look up the life work of Carl Schuster: http://www.tribalarts.com/people/schuster.html

His work "Social Symbolism in Ancient & Tribal Art, a record of tradition and continuity" was published in 12 volumes by the Rock Foundation in 1988 and I was very lucky to find a set a few years ago in an NY bookshop. It is available in some university libraies and a few public libraries but is available in an abridged one volume edition "Patterns That Connect: Social Symbolism in Ancient & Tribal Art." (1996) published by Harry N. Abrams.

Steve Price

Hi Hugh

I'm glad you re-entered this thread - it lurched pretty far from your original subject. Thanks for the link, which will interest many of our readers (including me).

One point I'd like to address. You wrote,
Personally I have not be influenced in any way by Mellaarts reports, contrary to the unfounded assertion by Steve in his post following my last contribution ...

The reason I thought that your interpretation of the elibelinde motif as a pregnant mother goddess was derived from Mellaart's reports is that it was/is a very widespread interpretation of that motif and got that way in Rugdom as a result of Mellaart's reports. I apologize for assuming that you arrived at that interpretation the same way.

Regards

Steve Price

Marla Mallett

For an archaeologist's assessment of the probability of a Mother Goddess Cult at Catal Huyuk, I would refer you all to Mary Voight's essay, "The Goddess From Anatolia: An Archaeological Perspective," ORIENTAL RUG REVIEW, Vol 11, No. 2 (December/January 1991), pp. 32-39. She finds inadequate evidence to support such a theory.

In any case, there's a huge gulf between Neolithic Anatolia and the period of extant Turkish kilims...over 7000 years! Moreover, a completely different group of people produced the 16th to 20th century Turkish kilims that we study today: Turkmen nomads who originated in Central Asia. How can one logically insist on a connection between them? I need not re-argue the fraudulent Catal Huyuk conclusions and restate the implications, as my two published articles on the subject are posted at www.marlamallett.com/publicat.htm.

Marla Mallett

Hugh Rance

Is there not more of a wealth of expression in Anatolian kilims than in rugs further east? Human representation was suppressed by Islam although many tribal groups did not succumb. By contrast Anatolia had an early Christian heritage and other than in the iconoclastic period, it's culture was alive and well. The lack of proof of any continuity of a Neolithic culture in more recent textiles is hardly surprising, as for obvious reasons there is no intermediate evidence. This subject is an old horse that has well and truly had the life thrashed out of it. I doubt anyone would try and assert this continuity without concrete evidence since Mellaart's humiliation. What intermediate images that do exist are in other forms of art.

What I am interested in is the life, meaning and origin of the wonderful motifs that do exist and are there for us all to look at and contemplate. It seems to me there is plenty more that can be said about these symbols and motifs without having to go over dry old ground which would be a fruitless pursuit. As I said in my earlier post, archetypes are alive and well as far as I am concerned and whether in dreams or art, contribute towards meaning and wholeness. Tribal groups have not participated in the language of this expression for no reason and they are not merely about tribal identity.

Steve Price

Hi Hugh

You wrote,
It seems to me there is plenty more that can be said about these symbols and motifs without having to go over dry old ground which would be a fruitless pursuit. As I said in my earlier post, archetypes are alive and well as far as I am concerned and whether in dreams or art, contribute towards meaning and wholeness. Tribal groups have not participated in the language of this expression for no reason and they are not merely about tribal identity.

Since I can't think of a better way to say it, I repeat here part of a reply I made to Michael on January 10, when he posed a similar thesis:
I'd be happy to come to grips with the symbolic aspects of rugs if anyone can tell me what those symbolic aspects are and, of course, how they came to know it.

Regards

Steve Price

Hugh Rance

Hi Steve,
Carl Schuster looks at the origin and development of tribal patterns from a variety of cultural backgrounds. It was his life's work travelling, examining, recording and collecting in the field. Anyone interested in the methodology involved couldn't do better than read his book completed and published posthumously by Edmund Carpenter. "Patterns That Connect: Social Symbolism in Ancient & Tribal Art." (1996) published by Harry N. Abrams. At some point I look forward to visiting the archive of his work with his collection of objects in Basel, Switzerland. I'm not aware of any really in depth research into motifs and symbolism in kilims. There is such a lot of second hand repetition of often inaccurate information on the internet, it would be good to see someone undertake a research project along the lines of Schuster's valuable and unprecedented work.
Hugh

Steve Price

Hi Hugh

That sounds like a book worth reading. I think a number of our readers would be interested in seeing a review of it on our Miscellaneous Topics forum. You seem pretty well versed in it, perhaps you can find time to generate one.

Thanks.

Steve Price