Fragment No. 25

Carpets are a fundamental part of the life of Iranian families. Some might go to the extent of saying that “no home is complete without a carpet.” The social significance of carpets, besides their artistic qualities, is determined by their function as a tangible pulling force to get together and exchange stories, laughs, and food.

 In the small town of my ancestors, most of the women worked as weavers in addition to taking care of their families. Around 1952, my great-grandfather was the first in the family to open a carpet shop in the Isfahan Carpet Bazaar. He would collect carpets directly from weaver families from different towns in the central region of Iran. My grandfather was groomed to take over the business and continue the tradition. Between the 60s and 80s, he even travelled directly to the producers and collected new designs, bringing my father along with him on these trips. Now in the third generation of carpet sellers, around 1996 my father established his workshops and hired weavers for some years. He also collaborated in the design of patterns.

 During my childhood, I spent several summers in the shop sleeping and dreaming on top of the carpets. Sometimes also helping. Unfortunately, the economic situation of the country, paired with cheaper machine-made designs and a decrease in export demand meant that the business was no longer profitable. My father closed the shop before I reached high school. He didn’t talk much about it thereafter.

 I came to Germany in 2017 to study my masters. The journey of fragment Num. 25 starts with receiving it in Berlin and planning the carpet’s journey back to the birthplace of carpet cultures: the middle ground between Asia and Europe, where sitting down crossed-legged on a carpeted floor, sipping tea, is at the heart of cultural identity.