**The information contained in this blog post may or may not be 100% accurate. It’s what I understand to be true at the moment, but I’ll hopefully continue to learn as I go along.
I have a new hobby/passion/addiction/whatever you want to call it. I’ve been fighting it for a while, but I’m sunk. I love carpets. I love carpet shopping. I love learning about the different styles, patterns, fibers, dyes, regions, identification . . . everything but the prices. Good grief, handmade carpets are expensive!
I used to be someone who rolled their eyes (internally, no need to be rude) when someone gushed over an “old tabreez that is to die for!” Um, it’s a piece of material that you lay on the floor. Why pay a bunch of money for something that people are going to walk on? Ridiculous. Remember me and the “Who wants an old carpet?! Gross!” story from the souk? I currently have one old carpet that I’m very attached to (and would be thrilled to acquire a few more). Hey, they don’t make them like they used to!
This one is a Beljik, from Afganistan. Made of merino wool (soft and silky feeling). Beljiks are always these deep reds, blacks and navy blues. This photo doesn’t do the rug justice. I think the LED lights from the Christmas tree are washing it out, making the border look hazy and muted.
This one shows how the white border of the design pops against the red background. The reason the design is so sharp is because there are over 400 knots/square inch of carpet. Yes, they are expensive, but when you think that it takes over a year to make one of these, it works out to pennies/knot.
I love being able to go into a carpet shop and correctly identify carpets. “This one is beljik, right?” The deep reds and blues are a big tipoff that they are from Afghanistan, but the sharpness of the pattern (or not), the feel of the wool, and the type of fringe help define a Beljik from its lesser quality brothers and sisters. There’s nothing wrong with a lesser quality handmade carpet — you just want to make sure you’re not paying a premium price for something that isn’t.
I prefer wool on wool carpets or silk on silk (don’t have any of those yet). They make wool or silk on cotton (meaning the wool of the carpet is woven onto a cotton base), but the cotton warp threads can cut into the wool as the carpet is walked on and the carpet won’t hold up as well over time. Mixed fiber rugs are also more difficult to clean. (An important consideration here!)
This is an inexpensive wool/wool handmade carpet called a Kazak. (When I say inexpensive, this one was around $200). These are historically Armenian and come from the region around Azerbaijan (one of the many countries that didn’t exist when I was in High School). These are pretty easily identified by the lighter colored blues along with the cream, red and navy and the less defined patterns than the Beljiks. I love the design of this rug. Notice how my taste trends toward reds and blues and geometric shapes? These kinds of designs are called “tribals,” as opposed to “city carpets,” which are more realistic in pattern with flowers, smooth lines and less boxy shapes.
Example of a city carpet — not mine (pretty, but not my style). This is usually what people visualize when they hear the term “Persian carpet.”
You can see the much larger individual knots. Bigger knots aren’t bad, it just naturally creates a less detailed and less labor intensive piece.
This carpet was our gateway drug. We went to a rug flop saying we weren’t going to spend more than $220 on a rug and came home with this little guy. Now we’re looking at rugs that are 220 BD and exclaiming, “That’s a bargain!”
This rug is my “old one” (60ish years — still a baby in rug years) and it’s from Iran. It was a steal of a deal and I didn’t care what it was called when I heard the price. Now that I’ve made you curious, I’ll tell you — it was under $650 for a 9×12 foot rug. For comparison’s sake, a commercially made Pottery Barn rug of similar size would cost at least twice as much. See what I mean about it being a steal?
Yes, more reds and blues. Still a tribal, but softer shapes. I’d love to know the history and region of this rug because it’s so different than the styles that are currently being made. It’s nice that this one doesn’t have a center medallion because it’s easy to put a table on top of it without blocking the design or worrying about centering the table evenly over the most decorative part.
Writing this blog post made me curious, so I looked at the underside of the carpet at the label. In addition to Made in Iran, the label says “saroogh,” which according to Google is a city in Iran that is known for producing carpets in the late 19th century in response to the huge demand for Persian carpets from Europe and North America. It’s possible that the design of ours is known as an “American Sarouk” because they created these carpets with the American design esthetic in mind.
Everyone needs a runner, right? We don’t need one in our current house, but I’m thinking ahead. This rug is called a Chobi (choo-bee). It is valued because it is made from hand spun wool (usually with only a drop spindle) and dyed using hand gathered natural dyes. They are the most labor intensive to make because of all the pre-weaving work. This style is really popular right now because the colors are more muted and antique looking. Chobi’s are generally designed with flowers and swirls — they are not tribal.
It looks like what’s hot at Pottery Barn, doesn’t it?
And our latest find — a Qashqai. This carpet comes from Iran, woven by a nomadic tribal group. This brightly colored tribal is identified by its detail and the inclusion of birds and other animals.
One of the things I love about handwoven carpets is the way it looks different from different angles. There is always a dark side and a light side. This is the dark side of this carpet. The red is burgundy, the navy almost looks black and the many medallions that dot the body of the carpet are more subdued.
10 seconds later, viewed from the other side. There really is a huge difference depending on how you look at it. The red is brighter, almost brick colored, the medallions pop, and each little design comes to life.
Studying all the details of this piece makes me happy — imagining the skill and handiwork it required to create leaves me in awe.
This was Josh’s birthday present — an unintended carpet purchase. We went on a shopping trip to help a few friends choose carpets (it’s always nice to have another set of eyes) and this is one of the many that they pulled from the stacks. It wasn’t her style, but Josh was drawn to it immediately. I wasn’t sure about all the different colors together, but the more I look at it, the deeper I fall in love. It’s almost like a patchwork quilt, where you see something new every time you look at it.
The sign of a quality handmade carpet? The back is just as beautiful as the front.
Between our travels and our carpet buying adventures, we may come back from the Middle East a lot poorer in the wallet, but richer in experience. And carpets can always double as wall art or bedcovers, right?
