Stories
MAMLUK
The great Mamluks are one of the least-known empires in history. They were blue-eyed Cossacks, guards of the Egyptian Palace who took control of the whole of the Arab East Mediterranean and ruled from 1250 to 1517. Artists were imported from across the known world and a great flowering ensued. Their weaving in particular shows many different cultural influences, as the artisans brought their traditions and design influences with them. These slave-warriors of medieval Islam overthrew their masters, defeated the Mongols and the Crusaders and wove what some say are most beautiful “Persian” carpets ever made.
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Indigofera Tinctoria
INDIGO For a long time it was presumed that both the seeds for the indigo-bearing plants and the knowledge of how to turn them into a dye the colour of the night sky had blown west with the winds of trade; from India to the Middle East and Africa. People discovered the process independently, and at different times, across the world. There are many different species of plant that produce indigo - woad is one - but the one most coveted for its colourant is Indigofera Tinctoria. The land of the Persians, known to Europeans for centuries as Persia, is fractured by mountain ranges, made inhospitable by deserts, yet rich in fertile plains, forests and jewel-like gardens. Home to the most sublime architecture in the world, and a breeding ground for poets, empires, mathematicians, astronomers, mystics and saints, it has an enduring and invincible fascination. Our mission is to enrich your understanding of this great civilization, from the empires of Xerxes and Cyrus, the Parthians and Sassanians, the Mongol and Oghuz, the Safavids, and Rumi, Hafez, Saadi and Omar Khayyam to Ayatollah Khomeni and the modern state.
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Buzkashi
Afghanistan is many things to many people but to me two things define it. Islam and the horse. As a young merchant, among my first purchases were a print of the Islamic mystical horse Buraq, and a Turkoman saddle cover. The energetic equestrian sport of Buzkashi is played in sight of mountains that proclaim loudly, “all is folly”. The Herat market is a series of open squares with half a dozen 3x3 metre shops making up each side. This typical Central Asian Silk Road architecture ensured each merchant could see the others, and who and what came and went. The prettiest feature to my foreign eyes is the cupola-round ceiling of each shop, constructed of a thousand perfectly placed thin adobe bricks. The view from the top of the nearby minaret references upside down egg cartons. I asked the vendor of the Buraq print to explain it to me. Similar to me in age, height, weight, and colouring, but a disfigured smallpox survivor, this is what he said; “One night when the Prophet Mohammed was asleep in his bedroom, he was awakened by the angel Gabriel who came with Buraq, the beautiful human female-headed horse. The prophet Mohammad and the angel Gabriel mounted Buraq and flew to within 7 bow shots of Allah. After Mohammed received the whole of the Quran, the holy book, they returned to the bedroom just in time to catch the pitcher of water on the bedside table that had been clipped by Buraq’s wings on the way out.” I am in love with Herat. The absurd contradiction of feigned empathy against a real depth to everyday thought pervades the spaces between people in a way that is as light as air. The bus is late we complain! “Nothing is important” the shouted reply to the now laughing ticket holders. In such a setting all speech is a Gazal, a love song of the infinite. Horses. The small Samangan, the strong Kunduz, or the fleet Turkman are the recognisable result of centuries of careful breeding. Horse tack takes on a religiosity as skilled women put great artistry in weaving a range of special accoutrement. The beloved horse will have a choice of outfits, for work, for play and formal occasion. This is not only practical, but the talismanic and apotropaic tools to bring success into being. Weaving. When the yarns and the looms have been prepared, a party is held. Popular Islamic stories and special Sufi poems are sung, and risqué jokes told. This women-only “Start of Weaving” party makes the process and the object a recipe to cook and serve the future, bringing it into existence. No question really, as to why these mostly small weavings have a presence, even out of context, away from Islam and horses: Handmade by powerful women and their families in touch with the magic of life on Earth. Collected at source over a 45year period, we offer these little pieces of magic for your delectation. The Cater family at The Rug Shop Bangalow
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Khoresht Karafs (Persian Celery Stew)
Ingredients: 1 whole celery 2 large onions 6 cloves garlic 3 cups fresh parsley (chopped) 1.5 cups fresh mint (chopped) 1 tsp tumeric 3/4 tsp ground cinnamon 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg 1/2 tsp ground cardamon 3/4 tsp ground cumin A good pinch of saffron bruised & brewed in a small amount of hot water (1Tbsp) 2 dried Persian limes - prick holes into them (you can get from Asian grocery stores) 4 cups stock (I use vegetable) oil salt & pepper to taste Method: 1/ finely chop onion & crush garlic. 2/ Cut celery stems into 1cm pieces. 3/ In a heavy pot with lid fry onion & garlic in oil until transparent then add tumeric & let sizzle for a couple of seconds. 4/ Add celery stems & fry for a few minutes. 5/ Add herbs & celery leaves, spices, saffron, limes, stock, salt & pepper, cover and cook on a slow heat for 1.5 hours. Enjoy it as a side dish or with nice fresh bread & butter.
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How I fell for a career in Persian Carpets
‘Where do I start?’ She suggested the stories of my search for business in Herat, Western Afghanistan when I was young and inexperienced. So . . . It was a time of relative peace before the USSR and USA fought over Afghanistan. This was my second visit to Herat, the first as a merchant. The year before, being massively interested in all things Persian, I had returned to Australia from Europe via the hippie overland route and bought rugs for myself. These were quickly snapped up by family and friends. So, being unemployed, I rented a shop in Paddington, Brisbane for $15 a week, borrowed some money from Custom Credit, and returned to magical Herat. Magical Herat The old shoe market as it is today It was magical to me at the time, but not because it had been a major centre of Persian culture, home of the great artist Bihzad, the poets Jami and Ansari, mathematicians, and philosophers etc. but rather why it was so. In Australia it was the time of Germaine Greer, women in the Public Bar, equal pay. However in 15th century Herat the like-minded Empress Gawhar Shad was championing the rights of women and minorities. She built a co-ed university where, it is rumoured, free love, and open marriage were commonplace, supported by an in-house creche. Here was a synergy I discovered, when most travellers of my generation were flocking to Indian gurus. One day I met Mohammed Amin in the ancient Bazaar market. He was immediately special to me as his goods were made by women and minorities. He championed the marginalised small tribes and their weavings. These included the refugees from Stalinist Russian purges across the border. A Treasure Trove It was a veritable treasure trove, in keeping with the egalitarian memory of Gawhar Shad and the zeitgeist of my own generation. Not for him, or me, the fine silk rugs made by so-called “Master Weavers”, reeking of the capital-meets-labour paradigm of the Western economic model. We both liked rugs with a history, a family, and like cave paintings, expressing the wonder of it all. I was very young, very raw, but with a good “eye” and a passion. That was all Mohammed Amin needed, and he gave me that first shipment on a handshake, no signed legally binding agreements, simply a list and total. I made a small down-payment with my last pennies and agreed to finalise the account in a year or three. I returned in 18 months but could not find Mohammed Amin. My enquiries were treated in hushed undertones. A Smuggler As it transpired Mohammed Amin was a smuggler. He had made his money with a camel train crossing the desert into modern Persia and this explained how he became to be on good terms with the interesting tribal groups. The camel train had been caught and confiscated. He lost much of his wealth and his younger brother, who led the train, was now a cripple. After searching, I found Mohammed Amin in the run-down shoe market, managing a women’s shoe shop where the customers, fully covered in the ubiquitous Afghan blue pleated chadry, sat on metal chairs and proffered a stockinged foot. He apologised to me that he could no longer do the rug business and introduced me to Qasim who was to be my best friend and supplier for many years, till his disappearance. Newly appointed Communist government officials overtaxed the conservative merchant classes, and he escaped. He turned up with his family, refugees from increasingly war-torn Afghanistan in Agra, India, asking for money. He was broke, destitute, and basically asking for survival. I sent Qasim thousands of dollars, from the profit of Mohammed Amin’s original shipment and later buying trips, but heard nothing for a few years. Rug Shipment Then I got a call from my Customs Agent, “What shall we do with this rug shipment from Persia?” It was from Qasim. I inspected every rug and calculated that Qasim’s debt had been paid, and paid to the very last cent. He had gone from Agra to Mashaad in Persia, a centre of the carpet trade, made some money and repaid his trade debt. It was complete, the trusting trade that had started with Mohammed Amin had gone full circle. I later lost contact and have not heard from him since. One day, I want to make a movie called “Finding Qasim”. I feel blessed to have experienced a business model based on trust, respect and a belief in the essential goodness of people. Maybe I was at the end of an era, the last gasp of The Silk Road. Perhaps such days will come again. - Milton Cater This article appeared in:
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Why is your rug so intriguing?
Persian art tends to de-realise, so the metaphor follows a descending gradation: human is compared to animal, animal to flower, flower to gemstone. This progression may seem to go from the animate to the inanimate, but the Persian is indifferent to this, as she is content with the interplay of shapes and colours. Persian art does not try to re-live emotion, it takes memory as memory, works with dreams, shades, ghosts, patterns and colours. The aim is to leave imagery behind, as it is lifeless and idolises a point in time. Better to go beyond, and reveal the beating heart of the life that moves amongst us all like a magic lantern in a shadow play. This comfort with explosion to the infinite completely up-ends the western stasis of solid unity, the known object.
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SOFREH of the Zagros
QASHGAI SOFREH Handmade in Southern Persia 100% Handspun Sheep Wool Zagros Mountain Area "SOFREH" is one of the most important and frequently used textiles of a nomadic family, the Sofreh is used in the making and storing and serving of bread, the square size of the Soffre is important as it has to be used from all sides and it cant be too large as you don't want anyone to walk on it. The Soffre is a flatweave and always has a plain centre or very simple centre as it is more practical for making bread and easy to clean. This is perfect for the nuclear family but one finds long narrow Sofreh among various nomadic tribes to suit the enlarged families of the nomadic tribal culture. Brothers remain “at home” so when they marry (often more than once) and have children the family they require ever larger Sofreh. The weave of the Sofreh is very dense and tight, you could imagine in a nomadic tent there would be no tables or even wood so the Sofreh is used as both. Fabric is mostly Sheep wool but Goat and horse hair is also used. Click on any Sofreh to see the Collection!
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Rice with Crust - Persian Tahdig
Two cups of long grain rice. Thoroughly wash rice and soak for an hour Boil for 5 minutes in salted water then rinse in cold water and drain in a fine sieve You've already made a third of a cup of saffron water and melted a big knob of ghee in generous amount of olive oil. Third of a cup. Put a third of oils and saffron water in heated pan and mix Tip rice into pan. This conical sieve gives the right cone shape of rice. Gently pat down rice keeping a rise in the middle. Poke a few holes in the rice, cover on low/medium heat for 5 mins Pour remaining oil and saffron water round the edge With a tea towel covered lid put on a very low flame for one hour. take saucepan off and put it into shallow cold water for a minute or two. Quickly turn out on a board or unbreakable plate and there is your Tahdig. Delicious crust and the rice almost flows, perfectly cooked, no sticky starch.
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