Cutting a Rug

by Ryan Reitmeyer on November 19, 2010

Every antique rug is unique. Two antique rugs that were made at the same time by the same weaver using the same design and colors will age differently, resulting in subtle nuances of color, texture, and condition between the two. Even the best reproduction carpet will never look identical to the antique original. Often, when a customer falls in love with an antique rug that is too large for their home but is perfect in every other way, the only option is to cut the rug to fit the space. Cutting an antique carpet will permanently change the object; however it is not a new concept, and has going on for longer and done to more rugs than most customers realize.

This Safavid classical carpet from the 16th century is an absolutely amazing work. The rarity of similar carpets on the market makes ascertaining the value of this rug almost impossible. It is a truly peerless carpet and it has been cut. Looking at the detail in the area highlighted reveals a section where the cloud band border design breaks as a result of the carpet being cut and sewn back together. Yet, the fact that this carpet has been cut does not prevent the Metropolitan Museum of Art from keeping it on permanent display. Nor has it prevented the rug from being published numerous times over and lauded as one of one of the greatest surviving examples of Safavid court weaving.

This Ziegler Sultanabad (c.1890) is part of the inventory at the shop and it has been cut down in size as well. The middle of the guard border at the bottom of the rug has a minor pattern defect where the repeat does not line up, revealing where the rug was cut and sewn back together. Even though this rug has been cut, it remains a highly desirable antique carpet to be sure. It has beautiful soft colors, complete pile, a wonderful design and sublime patina to the wool. The scarcity of similar Sultanabad carpets on the market makes this rug command a premium price.

Customers who are considering cutting an antique carpet should seek the advice of a knowledgeable dealer that they trust to help them weigh the options. Will cutting an antique carpet destroy all value in the object? Surely not, but it will decrease the value of the rug. Next the customer should consider if that loss of value is greater than the value of time spent looking for another rug, or the loss of value in settling for a different rug that is not as satisfying in the space. Finally, it is important to remember that every antique carpet, weather found in a museum or a flea market, has probably undergone some degree of restoration, and very few rugs on the market are actually in “original” condition.

Crossover Culture

by Ryan Reitmeyer on July 19, 2010

This carpet from the 1930s – 40s is a great example of how designs can travel and be reinterpreted by other cultures. Although the neoclassical design suggests that it was made in Europe, its heavy cotton weft immediately rules out that possibility, as nearly all European pile rugs use a jute weft. Rather, the structure of this rug reveals that it was woven in India. Cotton was and continues to be used abundantly in Indian carpet production, and is the best clue to the source of this rug’s manufacture. During the 1930s and 40s, Europe saw a strong resurgence of neoclassical architecture, particularly among Italian designers, for whom classicism was a source of great nationalistic pride in the run-up to the Second World War. The Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana (1938 - 1941) in Rome is a prime example of the movement toward a new classicism. With clean unadorned arches clad in travertine marble and massive statues of rearing horses, the structure is big, austere, and intimidating.

In light of the Palazzo one can’t help but notice the influence that Italian neoclassicism of the period had on the design of this carpet. An over scale, classical-style medallion with tong-and-dart molding and animals giving chase is bold and purely delightful. The large quarter medallions in the corners feature birds within botanical forms that vaguely resemble large acanthus leaves, further enhancing the classical theme. Using animals as a decorative device is not new in carpet design. However, the posture of the deer in this carpet is very similar to a design created by Gio Ponti of the same period. The Ponti design is gracefully realized, the stag has pronounced antlers, beautifully galloping in full stride while looking over his shoulder. The deer in our carpet is clearly not as refined as the Ponti design, but the composition is remarkably similar and it speaks to the ambition of the weavers working on this carpet.

Looking at this carpet, one can imagine an Indian carpet weaver in the late 1930s with a handful of drawings and photographs of the most sophisticated Italian architecture and design of the time. Putting the pieces together as best he could, the Indian weaver created a purely charming and delightful carpet that became a document of two cultures.

The Eagle Has Landed (in the shop)

by Ryan Reitmeyer on June 23, 2010

Ever since this Aubusson tapestry came to the shop it has been one of my favorite objects in our inventory. It’s been on the wall for eight months now (a record for us, as we like to change the walls regularly). I refuse to take it down because it is just that fantastic: this is a work that has tremendous aesthetic merit, and also perfectly encapsulates the period in which it was created (late nineteenth century France).

Look at the composition. There is nothing else but the beautifully rendered eagle, and that’s exactly the point. We’re all so used to seeing tapestries with a highly developed narrative of either classical mythology or biblical allegories, so this paired-down Aubusson is strikingly bold in comparison. The artist confidently insists that we focus all of our attention on the subject alone, thus opening the work up to our greatest scrutiny. After all, without anything in the background to distract our eye, all we can do is look at the eagle. In my mind this tapestry is perfectly in line with the nineteenth century tradition of Impressionist painting, with a nod to Manet. Look at "The Fifer" or "The Tragic Actor" by Manet and you see the same confidence to strip away the background and put all of the attention on the subject. In the case of our eagle, the detail in the subject is stunning. Note the anatomical precision of the musculature in the eagle’s wings, depicted with strict accuracy in the placement of each feather. I can’t imagine the skill to even paint something like this, let alone weave it.