By Heidi Noroozy
Polonaise carpet in the Iranian Carpet Museum |
Let’s take a trip back in time. We’ll set our time machine
for early 17th-century Isfahan at the height of the Safavid Golden
Age and tour the city’s blue-tiled mosques, arcaded bazaars, and ornate bridges
when they were still brand new. Maybe we’ll catch a polo match with Shah Abbas
I and cheer his favorite team from our seats on the high balcony of the Ali
Qapu Palace. Best of all, we’ll sink our bare feet into sumptuous wool and silk
rugs and feel their soft pile tickle our toes. After all, like me, Shah Abbas
had a special place in his heart for Persian carpets. Not only did he fill his
palaces with the finest examples, he also made them an important element of
trade and diplomacy.
Shah Abbas’s military accomplishments included consolidating
a fragmented Persian kingdom and defending it against encroaching neighbors.
The king also bolstered his country’s economy by intensifying trade between
Persia and Europe, whose leaders he viewed as natural allies against his
enemies, the Ottoman Turks. Abbas developed close ties with England’s East
India Company by giving them special trade privileges and exchanging silk for
English broadcloth. He also sent a large shipment of fine silk to King Philip
of Spain and Portugal in an attempt to persuade him to give up the strategic
island of Hormuz at the mouth of the Persian Gulf, which the Portuguese had
captured from the Persians nearly a century earlier. (This mission failed so
completely that the Safavid ambassador to King Philip's court was executed when
he returned home to Persia.) Not only silk yarn and cloth but luxury carpets
also often made their way onto merchant ships and into diplomatic pouches.
Polonaise detail |
Some of the finest carpets to come out of Isfahan’s royal
workshops belong to a group that scholars today classify as “Polonaise.” The
name, a French word meaning “Polish,” is a bit misguided, based on a
misunderstanding (more about that in a bit), but Abbas spared no expense in
commissioning these unique carpets to dazzle trade partners both at home and
abroad. The carpets were made of silk in bold, vibrant colors and often had
brocaded areas fashioned from threads wrapped in real gold or silver. Although
the foundations were usually cotton to lend the structure durability, separate
silk fringes would be sewn onto the ends, giving the appearance that the entire
rug was made of the more costly material.
Polonaise weavers used motifs that are still recognizable in
modern Persian carpets, with medallions in the center, twisting vines along the
borders, and floral designs against contrasting fields that look like someone
scattered a flower bouquet across a pool of calm water. Other Polonaise designs
were more typically European, often incorporating emblems associated with
Western royalty, which has led scholars to believe that they were commissioned
and made to the customer’s specifications.
Polonaise carpet with the Polish royal crest (Residenz Museum, Munich) |
But these Western influences also created the
misunderstanding over the name “Polonaise.” Over several centuries, the
carpets’ origins were forgotten, as many didn’t survive the ravages of time.
When two antique rugs owned by Poland’s Prince Czartoryski appeared in a Paris
exhibition in 1878, they were labeled as tapis polonaise (Polish
carpets). This source was supported by the fact that their motifs and materials
were not seen as being typically Persian. And these particular rugs featured
the coat of arms of a noble Polish family worked right into the design.
Although some historians questioned the carpets’ European
roots right from the start, many prominent textile experts persisted in
attributing them to Polish carpet factories well into the 20th
century. But contemporary accounts show that Sigismund Vasa III of Poland
commissioned eight carpets in 1601, and two years later Shah Abbas sent another
to Marino Grimani, the Doge of Venice, as a diplomatic gift. Today, nearly
everyone agrees that most Polonaise carpets were woven in royal Safavid
workshops in the Persian rug weaving centers of Isfahan, Yazd, and Kashan from
the time of Shah Abbas’s Golden Age right up until a devastating Afghan
invasion put an end to Safavid rule in 1722. And yet the Polish-inspired name
has stuck.
Polonaise carpets today are rare, with only around 300 of
them known to exist. Some of these rugs belong to prominent museums such as the
Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, The Residenz Museum in Munich, and the
Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Three of the photos I've featured on this
page are of a Polonaise carpet I saw in the Iranian Carpet Museum in Tehran. At
the time, I was writing my first mystery novel, which centered around the theft
of a rare Safavid carpet. I took so many pictures of the Polonaise that I’m
sure the guard suspected me of planning a forgery.
Border detail |
The surviving Polonaise carpets leave only a hint of their
former glory. Many have been worn down to the foundation, making them look more
like loosely woven fabric than knotted pile rugs. The once vivid colors have
faded to pastels (these dyes apparently adhere better to wool than to silk),
and often the gold and silver brocade is either missing or tarnished. But you
can still make out the lovely designs and with a bit of imagination reconstruct
the vibrant colors in your mind. These carpets are prized as highly today as
they were 500 years ago, with some commanding six-figure prices at auction.
Before we climb back aboard our time machine for the return
journey to the 21st century, let’s take a side trip to the Shrine of
Imam Ali in Najaf (present day Iraq), where we’ll slip off our shoes and sink
our feet into the soft silk of another of Shah Abbas’s precious commissions: a
red and gold Polonaise that he presented to the shrine as a gift. Perhaps it
was even another piece of diplomacy, since such a lovely carpet must have gone
a long way toward unlocking the gates of heaven to its donor for his
generosity. I hope so, anyway. Shah Abbas and his successors deserve a fine
reward for giving the world such beautiful treasures.
What a great trip back in time, these carpets are truly amazing works of art and I can feel my toes sinking into their soft fibers, not to mention the joy of just gazing at them.
ReplyDeleteGlad you enjoyed the time travel! The museum in Tehran where I saw the Polonaise has many other amazing carpets, including one that is even older that the Polonaise. I love visiting the place.
DeleteBeautiful examples. I'd love to visit the museum where you saw these.
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