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This fragment is part of the "CulturalxCollabs - Weaving the Future" carpet.
Through the fragment we trace the journey of the fragment owners and their collabs as they explore, experiment and creatively advance socially relevant themes. Here is the fragment as we are sending it on this three and a half-year journey.
Follow this story to observe the transformations the fragment undergoes over the course of these years...
The Friends of the Museum for Islamic Art in the Pergamon Museum, a registered association founded in 2009, endeavors to foster the unique position of the Museum for Islamic Art and support the work it does.
At the same time, by engaging with the diverse cultural heritage of Muslim societies, it contributes to global understanding and mutual cultural exchange.
If you would like to join the friends‘ circle, you may learn more about its aims and activities here.
Fragment #24 is being passed between members of the Museum for Islamic Art’s friends‘ circle. When my turn was up, I initially had big travel plans for us.
We were booked on a trip to Italy in order to visit the Venice Biennale’s 60th edition. Under the title "Foreigners Everywhere," this year’s Biennale features diverse artists exploring themes of migration, displacement, and identity. Together, for three days, the fragment and I were set to roam the city, visit national pavilions and collateral events, and introduce some of the most memorable displays via the CulturalxCollabs portal upon our return.
But alas, our trip was cut short due to unforeseen circumstances; fragment #24 and I were forced to leave Venice before we had a chance to see much. I did, however, manage to take one early morning stroll, accompanied by our fragment. Walking between centuries-old buildings, walls, and bridges, water greeting us around every corner, I was not only reminded of the city’s environmental challenges and current struggle with over-tourism, but mostly of its past identities and incarnations. As an art historian studying the history of exchanges of material culture and technologies between Europe and Asia, Venice’s historical role as a leading maritime power and illustrious trading hub has been of great interest for my research.
So, instead of placing our fragment into dialogue with the Biennale, I decided to share my thoughts on the nature of fragments, inspired by the sight of #24 resting on bridge railings and in front of layered wall structures. Reflecting on the wider notions of fragments or fragmentary encounters throughout our walk, I found myself confronted with both positive and negative associations and, ultimately, a reckoning with my position as an art historian within our increasingly fragmented world.
In my personal experience, studying (art) history has been an immensely rewarding endeavour. By employing art historical methods and tools, I have been able to gain deep insights into how people see amd saw the world, express their emotions, and interact with the divine or with nature – including myself.
As art historians, we are often confronted with fragments. And watching fragment #24 meandering though the alleyways of Venice, I realised that the notion of the fragmentary, the incomplete, is fundamentally linked to the efforts of art history.
Fragments, whether they are remnants of texts, speech, art, architecture, archaeological objects, or ideas, refer to incomplete pieces that convey meaning but lack a coherent structure. As such, fragments may act as carriers of cultural memory, preserving elements of a society’s (or multiple societies‘) values, practices, and belief systems even when the larger narrative has been lost. They challenge notions of wholeness, and can serve as powerful tools for evoking emotions, creating tension, or presenting disjointed yet intrinsically human experiences. Importantly, fragments invite us to reconsider the processes we employ for the construction of meaning.
Venice’s beautiful yet often patched-up buildings and façades embody a rich tapestry of meanings. From a melancholic sense of impermanence to warnings of environmental fragility, the architectural structures fragment #24 and I encounter speak of a city at once glorious and vulnerable. Built on water, Venice had established itself as a major maritime power amd strategic trading hub by the 9th century AD. Venetian merchants facilitated the exchange of luxury goods, such as spices, silk, precious stones, wool, timber, or metals. The city‘s vast trading network stretched as far as the Black Sea, into North Africa and to the Eastern Mediterranean. Immense wealth accumulated through trade allowed Venice to flourish culturally and architecturally.
The buildings that greet us today tell a fragmented story. They offer glimpses into the city’s once-dominant role in the world, while simultaneously underscoring the passage of that era. But it is precisely in these liminal spaces, such as the dual nature of beauty, that I find meaning, curiosity, and solace. An object, a story, a building can be both broken and magnificent at the same time. So can human experience. Coexistence of splendor and decline is ubiquitous; it is something we must live with.
In an increasingly fragmented world governed by data, rankings, and categorisations, I am deeply grateful for the challenge of navigating grey areas art history offers. Not everything is clear or unambiguous, not everything can be described or categorised. Uncertainty is a fundamental part of life and we don’t always gain from pushing against it. On the contrary, endurance and patience might teach us valuable lessons in the long run.
In times marked by polarisation and heightened division, art history sharpens our analytical skills and demands nuanced contemplation. It requires us to understand artworks in context, thereby questioning simplistic narratives or binary thinking, which are often at the root of societal fragmentation. At points of uncertainty, art history provides a sense of continuity by linking our present to what has come before – often through fragments. It reminds us of the long, unbroken human impulse to create, communicate, and inquire. By tracing artistic and technologial innovations and trends, we can discern how creativity has been harnessed across millennia to communicate ideas, push boundaries, and reflect the world in surprising, unprecedented or resourceful ways. Art can critique or challenge societal norms and power structures; it has long been a vehicle for political and social commentary. And so as we gain diverse perspectives on historical events and movements by studying art, sometimes we may even be able to reconnect disrupted narratives.
The biographies of both the museum’s dragon carpet and Venice’s houses remind us that value lies in imperfection, just as we may often find significance in the fragmented nature of life. Their stories teach us to appreciate the transience of human achievement, to seek meaning in the elusive, and to recognise layers of complexity in our lived experiences and interpretations of the world.
Watching #24 framed by Venice’s crumbling buildings – I see resilience, and room for hope.
Today I arrived in a green and sunny district of Berlin. My new owner immediately took me to his garden, to the fresh air, back to nature. That's where I come from too. After days in a dark and cramped wooden box, I really needed it. Many let their carpets gather dust indoors. But we also need contact with a fresh breeze. I am looking forward to my time with my new host.
I was cut. Cut into a hundred pieces. It was tedious.
Today, I am going to the museum. A very special event is taking place: the 10th anniversary of an extraordinary project The Syrian Heritage Archive Project. An online archive to preserve the architectural treasures of Damascus and Aleppo. Much has been destroyed in the Syrian war. Contrary to the many sad stories from the war, this project brings hope for a time after the war, when everything will be rebuilt. Inspiring artists and many moving moments.
It is adorned with Arabic inscriptions and was made for King Roger II in Sicily. It came to Germany through the Hohenstaufen dynasty. European emperors were only allowed to wear it on their coronation day from the 13th century onwards. It was that precious.
Would a European prince still wear a mantle with Arabic inscriptions at his coronation today? Very unlikely.
"...the originally ancient oriental motifs are borrowed from Arabic art: two symmetrically arranged lions triumphing over a camel; between them stands a stylized palm tree in the manner of a Tree of Life. The lions symbolize the ruler who defeats his enemies. Due to the incredible preciousness of the mantle, the 'foreign' motifs were overlooked, and it has been used as the coronation mantle of the kings and emperors of the Holy Roman Empire since the 13th century. By the 14th century, it was already seen as the mantle of Charlemagne, which the sainted emperor and restorer of the Roman Empire would have won in battle against the Moors."
And the translation of the Kufi inscription reads as follows: "(This is) from what was made in the royal chamber (court workshop), (which) flourished with fortune and honor, with zeal and perfection, with power and merit, with (His) consent and (His) well-being, with generosity and grandeur, with glory and beauty, and the fulfillment of wishes and hopes, with happy days and nights without cease and without change, with honor and care, with preservation and protection, with success and safety, with triumph and proficiency. In the (capital) city of Sicily in the year 528."
Does the lion look familiar to you?
Babylon, Ishtar Gate, Pergamon Museum?
Got it?
The grand staircase of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna. I wonder if I would fit inside the museum too?
After the European Turkish threat was overcome following the Second Siege of Vienna in 1689, a phase of intense cultural exchange with the Ottomans began. In Europe, there was a trend of dressing in Turkish style, which was highly fashionable at the time. At major events, Ottoman tents, like the magnificent three-mast tent in Dresden, were erected. This was probably because the Saxon royal court wanted to demonstrate to the imperial Habsburgs in Vienna that they did not necessarily want to orient themselves aesthetically towards them.
Where do I belong? In my new home. Berlin with all its beautiful aspects and landmarks.
On Museum Island with the Cathedral and the TV Tower.
Those who want to understand Islamic art will have to read. Some of my companions in the last few months. How fortunate that someone came up with the idea of the book. How else could my unique story have been preserved over centuries? And is there a more valuable gift than a book?
In the Humboldt Forum, there is a replica of the portal at the Great Buddha's tomb. Those who haven't seen the Asian exhibition there yet will miss out on something. Many paths that I and other art enthusiasts have traveled on the Silk Road can be traced here. What would Europe and Asia be without this connecting bridge of culture?
Rumi, who found his new home in the Anatolian city of Konya, composed this masterpiece of the Persian language nearly 700 years ago. The Mathnawi. The dragon recurs in his works. It symbolizes the ego, our inner demons to be tamed, our instinctual soul, or the Nafs, as it's called in Arabic. Rumi speaks of us carrying this dragon within us always. Either we get to know it better by learning to tame it and making it a compliant companion, or it will consume us until we burn inwardly. Joy and sorrow, encapsulated in the dragon.
An artistic idea and gesture of peace. The great maestro Daniel Barenboim once reached out his hand, and Edward Said accepted it. Together, they founded the Barenboim-Said Academy in Berlin. A place where young artists, regardless of their origins and cultures, could create a peaceful language of music and culture beyond international conflicts. At today's 25th-anniversary celebration, the President of Germany is also a guest. A magnificent concert with a wonderful idea behind it.
The Museum for Islamic Art's project, #CulturalxCollabs - Weaving the future, celebrates the transformative power of cultural exchange and the shared threads that unite us all. All the things we love, have loved and will ever love come from cultural exchange, migration and diversity, or as we like to call it #CulturalxCollabs.
100 carpet fragments, cut from a replica of the iconic dragon carpet, will travel the world (delivered by DHL). The fragments will ignite #CulturalxCollabs with co-creators, inspiring human ingenuity, fostering community and ultimately demonstrating how cultural exchange enriches all our lives.
Follow #CulturalxCollabs on Instagram as the project unfolds...
Join us on a journey with 100 carpet fragments as they travel around the world for three and a half years, finding temporary homes while bridging cultural boundaries, fostering worldwide community united by the power of human stories.
100 carpet fragments part of the "CulturalxCollabs - Weaving the Future" project. Follow their journeys through the ever changing owners' over three and a half years.
The star of the "CulturalxCollabs - Weaving the Future" project is a so-called Caucasian dragon carpet from the 17th century. A dragon carpet - all well and good - but: where is the dragon?