Oriental Rugs Today: Chapter 4 Part 3. See the posts on Woven Legends and the DOBAG project for more about those productions.
One of the earliest and best productions from Turkey was created by a Turkish gentleman named Suat Izmirili, who established Anadol Oriental Rugs in 1984. At first, Anadol produced rugs with synthetic dyes, convinced that natural dyes were not practical. But when Woven Legends’ example proved them wrong, Anadol soon began using natural dyes. Today Anadol makes among the best rugs in Turkey. But, faced with production problems there, Anadol has largely shifted its production to Pakistan and Egypt.
Recently we came across a group of Turkish rugs that seemed too good to be true. They were antiques, each apparently 100 or more years old, in good though not perfect condition, and each of the dozen pieces was of a very rare and desirable type, quite collectible. I say “too good to be true” because it is unusual to find even one rug as nice as all these were. As it turned out, the rugs were only partly true. The Turkish gentleman who presented them to me explained that they had recently been woven from old wool. Weavers had unraveled fragments of ancient kilims and had used the antique wool to make new rugs. The rugs that resulted had all the patina and softness of ones well aged. I will let you sort out the issues. Can such a put-together ever be a work of art? Is such a rug more valuable than a new one — or less? Is it collectible? Before you decide, look at a photo of one, my favorite of the lot.
Turkey was where the whole revolutionary pot started boiling: first the German project, DOBAG, then Woven Legends and all those influenced by Woven Legends, all of them experimenting with natural dyes and handspun wool. For perhaps eight years, Turkey was the only major source for the new breed of naturally dyed rugs. Now, the center has largely shifted elsewhere. I was surprised, in surveying new Turkish rugs, to realize to what extent Turkey’s present contribution to the market has fallen off.
The greatest obstacle to making importable rugs in Turkey has been the rising cost of labor, weaving especially. That is why a number of manufacturers are now having Turkish wool dyed there and sending it to other countries to weave. But beyond rising costs, manufacturers complain about a Turkish mind-set that results in inconsistent rugs. Paul McSweeny, formerly with Anadol, says that of ten rugs that come off their looms, two will be blockbusters, four will be okay, and the last four perhaps not saleable. Izi Mizrahi of I. M. International, born in Turkey and a veteran rugmaker there, reports similar frustrations that have driven him to shift much of his production to Pakistan. It is no wonder that many producers have given up on Turkey. Still, there is the phenomenon of George Jevremovic’s ‘tension’, the upshot of which is that the few blockbuster pieces that come off Turkish looms are so good that they make all the grief worthwhile — if, as a consumer, you can get your hands on them.
Turkish Kilims still pour out of Turkey. Most are inexpensive, usually 3 by 5 or 4 by 6 feet with pleasing colors, though synthetically dyed. Typically they are made in a slit-tapestry weave, on wool warps. From time to time we see fantastic new kilims from Turkey that are breathtakingly fine and beautiful and are made with natural dyes. Turkish pieces as finely woven as these have been rare in the market until recently.
Synthetically dyed rugs from western Turkey continue to be available, especially from Yagcibedir (yaj uh buh DEER) and Dosmealtu (dosh mee AL tu). They are disappointing rugs, though, to those of us who have seen their charming, naturally dyed ancestors. Essentially they have two colors, red and blue.
Though not often seen in the American market, the silk Hereke (HAIR uh keh) is still woven in Turkey. They are scarce here because few will pay the price for these amazingly fine rugs: $300-500 per square foot for ordinary pieces (which are quite fine) and, it is said, as much as $50,000 per square foot for pieces with 3000 to 4000 knots per square inch! Herekes are made in northwestern Anatolia near Istanbul, where production dates back to at least the middle of the nineteenth century. Lavish rugs were produced there in court workshops, and lavish rugs are made there still.
Hereke also produces wool rugs on cotton foundations that are not nearly as fine as the silk pieces. For a time in the 1980s wool-piled Herekes were often seen in the market, and they were quite good. But weavers near Hereke noted the success of these rugs and began to copy them, weaving rugs of inferior quality for a bit less money, and selling them as Herekes. The result was that Hereke’s reputation was hurt and its industry suffered — a pattern repeated all too often in the rug world.
i’m going to be foolish enough to take issue with what i think is a sweeping generality in paragraph 6. it’s true that a whole bunch of these rugs to which you refer have an annoying sameness. but i also saw some really terrific ones, from both areas. and while it would be lovely if all carpets could be vegetable dyed, personally i’d rather have stable synthetically dyed pieces with more genuine designs than vegetable dyed pieces with what i consider to be rather phony designs, either cribbed from the past or tastefully articulated by someone who did not grow up in the culture!
as much as i admire the impulse behind DOBAG and woven traditions, this latter aspect of them completely derails them, imo. it’s what derails pakistani, chinese, and indian copies as well. i’ll take the humbler, smaller production that’s less organized any day.
I say, and I mean, “To each his own.” If you prefer the current production of Yacibedirs and Dosmealtus to their naturally dyed ancestors, that’s fine. I do disagree with you, though, when you seem to suggest that synthetic dyes (as they are found in today’s Turkish village rugs) are stable and modern natural dyes are not. In my experience, most often just the opposite is true.
I understand your uneasiness with the concept of Westerners and others getting involved with in the production of Oriental rugs. If the West is to be taken to tasks for interfering, it is for our having introduced weavers to synthetic dyes which, inarguably, nearly destroyed the rug industry at about the turn of the twentieth century.
Perhaps the ideal rugs for you are the handful coming from Iran today that are woven by Persians after their own ancient designs. While natural dyeing was a lost art elsewhere, one or two craftsmen kept the art alive in Iran, and today’s naturally-dyed Persian rugs are essentially not influenced by West.
I have been repairing Oriental rugs for quite some time and I’ve become greatly saddened by the changes in production. Many of the rugs are now constructed without using the proper method of having double end warp threads. Because of this practice, many of the rugs come apart at the sides because there is nothing to hold them in place. Why are they doing this?
I’m sorry to say that I am unfamiliar with “Double end warp threads.” I can say I have seen many new carpets that have had selvages sewed on after the carpet was woven. You see this in many Indian carpets and the ubiquitous Pakistani Bokara. These selvages become detached after just a few years. please enlighten me as to the look of the “double end warp”
The “double-end warp threads” to which the writer and rug repairman refers are not warps at all but rather two shots of weft that have been cut off at the sides, completely destroying the selvage and resulting in a fabric that has very little lateral strength. One can easily see the two cut weft ends, which the writer probably sees, although I am surprised that a carpet repairman would think weft threads are warps. At any rate the practice is blatantly common in Pakistani and some Indian productions. It does appear in some bazaar quality Iranian rugs. Naturally a false selvage bead is tacked on and, as Richard points out, it is structurally inferior. I spoke with one Indian producer who told me that rugs are cut from their looms in this manner to achieve straight edges.