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Origins
and uses |
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What are kilims? The word kilim simply means a flatwoven
rug, or rug without a knotted pile. There are many
variations used in different languages: gelim in Iran, kelim
in Afghanistan, kylym in the Ukraine, palas in the Caucasus,
bsath in Syria and Lebanon, chilim in Rumania and kilim
again, in Turkey, Poland, Hungary and Serbia. Moreover,
fiatweaving is found in some form all over the world, from
the Great Plains of North America to Scandinavia and
Indonesia. At times there is only a structural similarity in
what is produced, but the disciplines imposed by the
materials and techniques often result in strikingly similar
designs and compositions.
Until recently the kilim in general has been considered the
poor relation of the Oriental knotted carpet by collectors
and traders alike. For generations this view has prevailed,
and the majority of books on rugs dismiss the kilim in a few
sentences as an inferior and simple tribal product. In the
last two decades, however, there has been an explosion of
interest in the decorative, utilitarian and collectable
qualities of these remarkable objects. Today, kilims
captivate an ever-widening audience throughout the Western
world.
The technique of flatweaving, the simple interlocking of
strands of wool, hair or vegetable fibres, must have
developed from the basic needs of the earliest civilizations
for clothing, shelter and storage, and for simple comforts
such as floor coverings and pillows. There are many
historical references to weavers and woven cloth; the Iliad
and works by later classical authors make it clear that
weaving was an established and flourishing occupation of the
time. Egyptian tomb paintings from the same period, and
earlier, depict women weaving cloth and there are many
biblical references to weavers and their tools. The
domestication and selective breeding of the sheep, goat,
camel and horse meant that wool and hair for weaving were
readily available, and dyestuffs were synthesized from
animal and vegetable sources. Production of the finest spun
wool and dyes in the ancient world was sophisticated and
international in character; fleeces from the Caucasus and
dyestuffs from North Africa and India were traded throughout
the Mediterranean and Asia, and the finished kilims were
also important objects for trade and barter. Very few
ancient flatweaves have survived to provide us with clues to
the ancestry of the kilims woven over the last 250 years;
animal hair and vegetable fibres rot and disintegrate over
the centuries unless they are preserved in extraordinary
circumstances. It is certain, however, that the kilim has
been an essential piece of decorative, practical and
portable furniture for the peoples of the Middle East and
Asia for a very long time.
Kilirns, together with jewelry, clothing, tent furnishings
and animal trappings, helped to form the identity of the
village or nomadic tribal group. Kilims were made for use on
the floors and walls of tents, houses and mosques and as
animal covers and bags; most were made for family and
personal use, although some villages and towns of Persia and
Anatolia became famous for their fine commercial production
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Family wealth
was stored up in kilims, knotted rugs, precious metals and
animals and at times of famine or crisis any of these
possessions could be bartered for grain, or exchanged into
local currency for use in the nearest market town.
Kilims have always played a central role in the family as
part of the dowry or bride price. Then, as now, the
crucially important occasion of marriage involved much more
than the union of two people. The girl, betrothed at an
early age, became an instrument of liaison between families,
to the mutual commercial, financial and political benefit of
all parties concerned. The joint wealth of the two families
was consolidated with rugs, jewelry and other items; the
dowry also consisted of animals and grazing, water and
irrigation rights. The young girl, learning alongside her
mother and other members of her family, made her own dowry
of kilims and textiles as a labour of love. Each piece
embodies the inheritance of family traditions and tribal
folklore. The position and status of a family were directly
related to the quality and quantity of the bride’s dowry,
and this explains to some extent why the kilim has in the
past had so much effort, craftsmanship and creativity
lavished upon it with no prospect of financial gain from the
marketplace or bazaar.
The ritual of marriage and the strictly conservative Islamic
lifestyle of the nomads called for the handing down of
traditional types of kilim, as this dowry of two generations
of a respectable north Afghanistan family
—
recorded by Parsons
—
testifies: 1
Pardeh (woven curtain to divide the male and female parts of
the tent), 1 Jaloor Paidar (tent door hanging, knotted or
flatwoven), 3 Jaloors/Tobrehs (door hangings and large
bags), 2 pairs Juvals (the largest tent or camel bags), 2
Namak Donneh (salt bags), 2 pairs Kola-iCherga (tent-pole
bags), 1 large carpet or kilim (11’x 6’), 1 Namad (felt), 2
small kilims (6’ x
3’),
3 Parpak (tent
bands).
These kilims were used in the traditional manner in the
home, as floor coverings, cushions, stroage bags, bedding
covers and for ceremonial and welcoming purposes; the
display of wealth was ostentatious, with valuable dowry
kilims and textiles piled about the room, a veritable
savings bank of weavings. This simple, pre-industrial,
nomadic and village lifestyle has ensured an abundant supply
of traditional kilims, with different tribes weaving their
own distinctive designs that have evolved over many
generations. But in the late nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, tribal groups began to lose their cohesion in the
face of commercial and government pressures. Once tribes
became sedentary and had to survive by trade and barter,
they copied whichever designs were fashionable and saleable,
and certain nomadic articles, such as storage bags, were no
longer made. Marriages between tribes became more common,
increasing the intermingling of often totally different
cultures, and confusing the heritage of traditional arts.
These changes were often accompanied by a decline in
craftsmanship, but the fusion of clans and tribes of
fundamentally different origins has sometimes resulted in
exquisite and unusual kilims which have appeared on the
market during the last thirty years.
Workshop production of kilims in villages usually indicates
a nomadic tribe that has settled, in ancient or modern
times, continuing to weave for domestic, and latterly for
commercial reasons. In Turkey, for instance, kilims can be
recognized by their tribe and area of origin to within a
group of villages or even a single village. This compares
with nomadic groups, who weave kilims within a much larger
area, at their summer or winter quarters and sometimes at
camps during a migration. The confusion of origins and names
reigns supreme in Persia, where thousands of sedentary
peoples from many different tribes have been forcibly
relocated from one end of the country to the other in the
course of its stormy history. The last such mass movement
occurred as late as 1834, and one can imagine the chaos and
tribal flux caused by it. The result is seen in the Persian
kilims around Garmsar, for instance, which show a diversity
and confusion in designs, patterns and colours.
Whatever the social and political upheavals, production of
kilims continues unabated; but the traditional life of both
the sedentary and nomadic tribespeople of Asia has come
under a pincer- like attack since the 1
950s. On one hand
there is the attraction of the towns, on the other, the lure
of profits to be made by producing kilims and textiles for
the expanding European and North American markets. These
factors, combined with the surge in tourism since the 1960s,
have reduced the sources of original tribal kilims to a mere
handful; only the least accessible areas are still weaving
and dyeing in the traditional way. Afghanistan was, at least
until the recent turmoil, the last reservoir of old and
unusual kilims, and the major source of traditional kilim
production.
By contrast, there can be no doubt that present-day Turkey
has become the centre for the village and workshop
production of kilims for export and trade; orders are placed
by telex and many designs and colours are inspired by
Western interior designers. Chemical dyes are used, and yet
it is interesting to see the re-emergence of the rich,
glowing colours of natural dyes, matched with ancient and
often long -forgotten motifs and symbols, to satisfy an ever
growing demand for more traditional kilims.
It is clear that the reasons for making kilims have changed
greatly in recent years. Utility and religious and cultural
significance have largely been replaced by profit and
commerce. By looking at many different kilims, old and new,
from many different areas, one can begin to appreciate those
that seem to be original and not mass produced: These are
the genuine article
—
kilims which retain their
true ethnic identity, woven without compromise and with a
craftsmanship that reflects love and heritage in their
making.
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