Home > World Travel > Checking off life's to-do list: Buying a Turkish rug - July 12, 2006

Checking off life's to-do list: Buying a Turkish rug - July 12, 2006
Ever since reading a Jeffrey Archer story story about the purchase of a Turkish rug in the Grand Bazaar, I'd wanted to do this, and I'd spent a fair amount of time researching rugs on the Internet over the past couple of months in preparation. Nazan's brother, Sanan, took us to a dealer that apparently is very well known and has dozens of magazine pieces in which they're featured hanging on the walls. I guess this can be a good or a bad thing, because it can mean the prices are higher, but what they sell is quality stuff. Sanan knew the owners and they were certainly reputable compared to all the pushy guys that try to drag you into their shops everywhere else. Cameron had been in this place before, and he'd been shown rugs that even he considered to be dazzling. He warned me that these rugs would not be cheap. This particular shop is in a building that is actually older than the Grand Bazaar -- I think it dates to about AD 500. Two 15th century rugs hung on the wall, surrounded by other priceless rugs, rolled and folded all around the room. They began by serving everyone apple tea, and they started by telling us about the different kinds of rugs. Since I was the only one of our group actively shopping, we sort of made our way quickly to the wool-on-wool marriage rugs. These are small, usually antique, hand-made, one-of-a-kind pieces made by women for their trousseaus. Their quality is a gauge for their future mothers-in-law to determine just how fine a bride the girl will be -- in terms of her level of craftsmanship, skill and eye for design. A couple of helpers throw out rug after rug with a flourish, the main salesmen talking about the different patterns and dyes and regions from which the rugs are from. It's a wonderfully rich spectacle of color to watch the rugs unfurl atop one another in this mound of craftsmanship. They certainly were not cheap, but they did have one that caught my eye, and the very upper end of my budget. (You can imagine how this story ends, and yes, you're right, but the story did not reach its conclusion until every single person who was within earshot of me was repulsed by the word "rug" and I had spent more time shopping for rugs than I have cumulatively spent watching the NBA and NFL in the course of my 36 years. But I guess you could have imagined that as well. This was Friday, and by Saturday, Prae was filing for divorce before the subject of proposal had even come up.) The particular rug in question is a lambswool prayer rug, meaning it has an arch in the design on one end and is used by Muslims to pray on. It is very small -- maybe 3 by 4 feet -- and it has colors that range from jade green to -- I kid you not -- hot pink. In short, it is the second-closest rug I have ever seen that looks as lively as jewels. (The closest honor goes to an $8,000 silk rug I saw the next day when Sanan took me to another dealer that specialized in new hand-made rugs. Over that I spent two hours salivating, wondering what this same family's next rug would look like when it is done in 2-1/2 years.) I did not buy right away, but I did make a mental note of that particular rug, and it became the benchmark for all others I waved away with a scowl and a sip of apple tea at other rug shops.


You can't walk three steps in Istanbul without seeing a rug hanging on a storefront or being asked quite forcefully to step into a rug dealer.



I made particular friends with the rug dealer opposite our hotel. In the end, I did buy a cheap ($50) rug from him, mainly as a ticket price for the sales performance he gave me over three days. He had started out at $250 for the same item, and I wanted to see how impossibly low he would go. "Impossible price!" he kept assuring me, the lower he would go. A good thing to remember my next trip there for when I see something I really want.



The dealer where I eventually purchased my rug is just outside the Grand Bazaar in a building older than the bazaar itself.



The dealer begins by taking an order for Turkish tea or apple tea, and the customers sit on rug-covered benches while the dealer and his helpers unfurl samples of different types and qualities of rugs. It is a spectacular show and a new education with each dealer. The rugs themselves are dazzling.



At a different dealer the following day, Prae watches a demonstration of how rugs are made -- each knot tied by hand.



This is a silk rug that the dealer claims takes a family about 2 years to make because of the number of knots. It is a new rug made with old techniques, and the roughly 5 x 7 rug had an $8,000 starting price.



Compare this photo with the previous rug photo. It is the same $8,000 silk rug, believe it or not. The photo was shot from the opposite angle, giving an idea of the qualities of a fine silk rug. Depending on the angle at which you view it, it can look like an entirely different rug. Now picture what it is like if you walk around it, watching the colors change as the light hits it differently. It is as if the rug is alive with color -- much as a fine portrait's eyes follow you around the room.



Decisions, decisions. Actually, when the rug you like best is $8,000, and you know that even if you talked the dealer down to half that, which is entirely possible, you still couldn't afford it, then the decision is an easy one, even if it is nice to contemplate the idea.



At this shop, all the rugs were new. As many rugs are still made with traditional techniques, the age of a rug was not a factor in my thinking, as long as the quality was there.



Here also are new rugs, rapidly on their way to becoming antique under the sun and weather of the city air.



Here is a silk rug being woven for demonstration purposes. Note the number of threads in a rug so small as roughly a foot wide.



I wound up choosing this small lambswool marriage rug that is also a prayer rug, noted by its arch at one end. The colors ftom the natural dyes are jewel-like and change colors with the light. The dealer claims the rug is 40 to 50 years old, a claim of which I am a bit leery. I do know enough about rugs, I think anyway, to determine that everything else they told me about it is likely true.


 




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