Introduction
The concepts discussed in this essay have long plagued my thoughts. First coming to mind since at least ‘covid times’ then becoming more clearly focused as I spent considerable time in Kathmandu in 2023; in fact in November 2023 I professed a forthcoming article in December ‘bookending eras of carpetry,’ but in hindsight more rumination was required. Fortunately my years as a rug and carpet salesman, albeit now decades removed, informed my thinking, reminding me not to specify the year. Specificity, being of course, the bane of salesmanship.
It is with very special thanks to a dear friend who read a much earlier draft that I am now able to present this more refined version. Her considered words caused me to reconsider mine.
Arbitrary delays and false excuses aside, fate and circumstance now demand all of us heed considered advice as a bookend descends abruptly upon this era. So! As has been the custom of The Ruggist from one halcyon era to the next, without further ado, this is that article; written as it is with a clin d’oeil toward the absurd and delivered well in advance of December I’ll note.
The Back Story
‘If the past is prologue, then continuity and survival command that we change.’
I vividly recall reading this passage in the Spring of 2020 as circumstances beyond our control began to take hold of the world. It appears early in an op-ed written by HRH Prince El Hassan bin Talal of Jordan, himself an academic and published essayist amongst other more leisured professions. (Sign me up!) Titled ‘COVID-19 in the Time of Insecurity,’ the essay struck me as prescient insomuch that it foretold, via a study of history, the coming period of insecurity in the world. As someone fascinated by our human ability to repeatedly make the same mistakes, severally and/or collectively, myself most certainly included, the reasoning seems logical and unfortunately realistic.
To greatly summarize the essay in more vulgar terms perhaps unsuited to the stature of His Royal Highness, ‘When shit goes down, even more shit goes down.’ A summary of events since the Spring of 2020 more than adequately confirms this hypothesis. Distressing, in so many ways, as that might be.
There are of course contradictions in accepting the opinion of His Royal Highness due to monarchy, authoritarianism, and dismissive attitudes toward opinions incongruous with our own. But to disregard well reasoned cautionary advice simply because there is not universal accord across broad subject matter is to rob ourselves of the value of our collective human intelligence. Should we be so foolish as to be divisive while more critical issues loom? It’s an era in which infinite content has diminished the value of everything to fifteen (15) seconds of distracting entertainment, wherein real issues such climate change, sustainability, broad socioeconomic instability, and the veracity and indeed value of authoritative information, are treated – by those with moneypower – as less important than where trans people defecate. Talk about shit going down!
As harbinger of these more divisive times and aggression – real, micro, perceived, passive, or otherwise – run amok, this dismissiveness fails to account for our ability to hold multiple, seemingly discordant, ideas in our minds at the same time. It is, after all, our astounding innate human ability to be given perfect information, and yet still make horrible decisions. We fail ourselves for we try to organize civilization based on theories – primarily economic – of ‘rational actors,’ knowing full well humans are highly irrational beings. This is why I have repeatedly counselled a colleague to not predict the decision a client will make, even if given perfect information; let alone what happens given imperfect information, itself the only way decisions are actually made. We can act in high confidence, but nature itself prevents us from perceiving all perspectives; all truths if you will.
The Lies We Tell…
During that period I genuinely if not also naïvely took to heart the concept of the pandemic era ‘new normal’ and had unbridled optimism for the possibilities to be afforded by rethinking everything; especially the crafting, manufacturing, and trading of rugs and carpets. But this was just wishful thinking, foolishly believing in the good faith use of language rather than its more persuasive uses whatever the intent – nefarious, commercial, public interest, or otherwise. A murky distinction between esse and Atē to mix the classics as it were; a littoral area betwixt what things actually are and a delusional view of what we want them to be.
‘If names be not correct, language is not in accordance with the truth of things.’ often paraphrased in English as a Chinese proverb stating, ‘The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their proper name.’
Confucius
My experience in life as well as the interaction with nearly every stage of carpetry – save raw material procurement – as well as my past work marketing and advertising rugs and carpets should have informed my judgement, illuminated the hyperbole and insincerity of language employed in the service of persuasion, and guided a more enlightened perspective. After all, as someone who formerly oft wrote glowing lyrical praise of the aesthetic work of others, many times replete with high poetic license and deft turns-of-a-phrase with the intent to persuade, I myself am guilty as charged. Instead, I sophomorically trusted in the hope of transformative change, projecting my desire for something more than what has been.
‘Let’s face it. The rug industry is one in which rich women buy rugs made by poor women.’
Leslie Stroh, Former Publisher of the now defunct Rug News and Design.
As another curmudgeonly writer about rugs summarized so very succinctly in coarse terms that typically get censored from trade and design media, the rug industry, like veritably all others, employs the poor for the benefit of the wealthy. It reminds of the time when, shortly after the Nepal Earthquake in 2015, that I was quoted for saying the best way to help Nepal recover is to keep buying from Nepal. Neither Rug Insider Magazine nor COVER Magazine ran the full quote which includes references to the trivial inconsequential inconveniences of delayed rugs suffered by consumers; apparently wealthy clientele care not to be reminded of their privilege.
As a long past editor of the former, though not in 2015, I know well the politics of mollycoddling advertisers with delicate egos, of commercially required appeasement; itself not that dissimilar to appeasement of all manner insomuch that it becomes an impossible position when disparate perspectives demand contradictory fealty to moneypower. Business is just business, unless of course it’s not, which it isn’t. Let us not be so naïve as to discount the power of the purse or the potential peril of bitting the hand which feeds.
‘It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends upon his not understanding it!’
Upton Sinclair
Factor in a heathy dose of all the myriad ailments of human character, and as circumstances beyond our control once again began to take hold of the world, it is we find ourselves here, in the interesting year of 2025 C.E.. ‘Interesting’ being, of course, the polite phrasing a persuasive salesperson might employ to allow a customer to infer praise when none is intended.
In my observations to date, it seems we, including myself, have become participants – willing or unwilling I know (k)not – in a sort of mass delusion. Our desires foolishly disconnected from the gravitas required for ‘continuity and survival.’ Whether of epoch scale or of something as simultaneously inconsequential and important as handknotted carpetry, a disconnect between what things are and what we want them to be, is broadly detrimental.
While we must acknowledge the ever evolving nature of language, if we all cannot agree on what words such as ‘first’ or ‘bespoke’ mean, let alone what they actually are then who cares if that’s what someone claims to make? Subjective appreciation aside, the intrinsic qualities which separate first from subsequent, wheat from chaff, cream from milk, live wool from dead, et cetera, remain. There are differences, period. We must acknowledge and differentiate these criteria if we are to maintain the cachet of handknotted rug and carpet making, and indeed a tangible grasp upon our shared reality. Only silk is silk. Not all wool is equal. Viscose is not well suited for use on the floor. Viscose derived from bamboo is not bamboo fibre, nor is a trademarked fibre name such as FiberetteTM (A fictitious name.) anything more than whitewashing. If the rug made of recycled PET yarn is itself not recyclable there is no point; the same can be said of mixed fibre rugs incorporating synthetics, and so forth.
Ultimately, how can you mean what you say if you don’t say what you mean?
Rare and Original?
My love affair with handknotted carpets began with an appreciation of the carpets imported by Odegard. Formerly I would have said ‘made by’ but that statement reflects not reality, rather in its stead the mystique, the commercial propaganda of those who trade. Moreover, as occidental rug traders are wont to do, innumerable numbers of ‘their’ designs were inspired by appropriated from the ethnographic textiles of disparate autochthonous groups. ‘Pangden’ as sold by Odegard and shown here is one such example.
While the quality of construction is dreamy and essentially everything I would ask for in a carpet, it remains a veritable reproduction in carpet form of traditional Tibetan aprons. When presented ex situ it can possess apparently modern aesthetics, but in situ it remains rather commonplace. Furthermore, directly copying extant designs into carpet form and then asserting claims of copyright over the usurped work is just not correct!
A Nostalgic Past which Never Existed
While it was the late winter of 1996 when I started selling rugs, it wasn’t until say 1997 or 1998 that I was first introduced to Tibetan weave carpets and the novelty of design the genre now supports. Truth be told, the very first Tibetan weave carpet I ever saw was Indo-Tibetan from Feizy, with an all over fleur-de-lys riff made presumably as homage to more traditional Tibetan motifs interpreted by other prominent occidental brands of the time such as Odegard; the latter a design house whose repertoire I would come to greatly admire and indeed sell a considerable amount of. The same can be said of Lapchi, another name of renown and for whom I worked briefly from 2005-2007. Both companies in their own ways invigorating the North American trade of handknotted rugs and carpets from Nepal. Later as I would come to know others who have each innovated in their own ways, I began to see not only the forest and the trees, but the leaves and lumber, metaphorical as they all are.
First New Moon, then in turn Jan Kath, Creative Matters, cc-tapis, Tamarian, and a breadth of other consumer brands each deserving of mention, but unmentioned. This a common ploy of writers wishing to allow others to infer they are included, even if to the contrary. It’s akin to a review of a trade show stating ‘With so many great rugs to choose from buyers would be hard pressed to decide, these are our favourites.’ But, I digress. Now with some thirty (30) years of personal history and experience as a guide, I question a lot of what I once knew, or rather thought I knew.
‘If I could turn back time, if I could find a way…’
‘If I Could Turn Back Time,’ Cher
Perhaps the first time I ever truly felt betrayed by disinformation in the rug trade was when I was introduced to the difference between crossed and uncrossed Tibetan weaving. Without discussion of the merits of either, the betrayal was and remains the deception, the persuasion, the inability to commit, the aspirational reach beyond grasp, the lack of specificity. The lie that they are the same, told to the less informed by a salesperson intending to close the sale; caveat emptor as is said.
Looking back not with nostalgia, but with the facts now laid more bare and clear to me, I feel foolish for my naiveté. Likewise, I now know the absurdity of questioning the decision a customer may have made when trying to choose between the top consumer brands of Nepali-Tibetan carpets made during that, or in truth, any era; they are often more exceedingly similar than institutional decorum permits us to publicly admit.
‘Marketing, like childhood, requires fantasy, and a certain amount of denial.’
Amy Merrick, ‘How Toys R Us Succumbed to Its Nasty Debt Problem,’ The New Yorker, 21 September 2017
Despite the widespread portrayal – and indeed nearly blind acceptance – of occidental rug trading and design firms as superlatively singular in inspiration and skillset, it is often an individual manufactory, working in discrete and typically discreet collaboration, who produces for multiple houses. Marketed as somehow superior, the carpets of one branded occidental firm contrasted against another in a ridiculous game which assigns value to veritably everything except the truth behind the making of these wares and the intrinsic qualities of the carpets themselves. Whether orchestrated via whitelabel channels or direct from manufactory there are so many brands’ wares originating in the same place, the same city, the same singular manufactory, the same fount of savoir-faire, the same family.
As though a façade, the perspective of the trade of handknotted rugs and carpets – the world of rugs as it were – portrayed by consumer brands was and is one of intentional obfuscation of the reality of the situation and while the houses and manufactories may have changed – as all things must – the situation today remains more similar than (k)not to that of the past.
Throughout all of this though, I have been left to wonder if there is actually an appetite for real information and change as we often profess. We may bask in gloriously hopeful ideals of ‘educated customers’ but this is just delusional thinking which ignores the realities of trade, commerce, and the human condition; how arrogant must we be to assume another will make the same subjective decision? Again, we are irrational beings easily enchanted by mystique, a convincing narrative, and escapism, all blinding us to the discomforts, the suffering, of capitalistic exploitation.
‘…it was not the truth they wanted, but an illusion they could bear to live with.’
Anaïs Nin
We must think of ‘continuity and survival’ not as a means of making yet another collection of so-called ‘on trend’ schlock to satisfy socioeconomic conditions of the past, rather we must examine and question everything, quite literally everything (the older definition of literally, not in a figurative sense), and make changes to adapt as shit continues to go down. This said with confidence of thought, though skepticism in execution.
This skepticism, both broadly and specifically to the trade of handknotted rugs and carpets is founded on a wealth of fabrications, words utilized to persuade a sale, as well as a fetishized romantic notion of a nostalgic past which never existed. I do not want to imagine looking back on this era with similar bewilderment, asking myself why did we not only take a cue from the past, but also for once, realize we have not yet developed a sustainable stable socioeconomic system. ‘Continuity and survival’ requires each of us to do out part – no mater the scale – to do something different, to affect the profound changes required for society, even if only in the niche of handknotted carpets. Civilization is, most assuredly, the sum of its constituent parts, and if you – as I do – view the current state of the world as oddly fascist, consider extricating the underlying causes which likewise plague the trade of handknotted rugs and carpets; while already alluded to throughout this essay this includes nepotism (Any multi-generational firm.), monopoly (Outsized control of the market.), and censorship of information (Control of the media through capital.) which are specifically noted for clarity of message.
Transgressions Against Luxury
Over time we’ve moulded segments of the handknotted rug and industry into one willing to say ‘Yes! I can turn that photo of your [whatever] into a rug!’ We’ve reduced the making of so-called luxury handknotted rugs and carpets to nary more than a paint by number, click-to-order, delivered in three (3) months or less, harbinger of banality. We have meticulously curated ourselves into crafting on-trend bespoke carpets that have now been elevated to near commodity status. If every uniquely drawn rug design is made-to-order to exacting specifications, then the processes of making have now become a commodity, not artistry. How rare and original, how luxurious is a service or product now available veritable everywhere, and in record time with few distinguishing physical characteristics? Said succinctly, ubiquity is not luxurious.
The transgressions against luxury continue for as long as there has been trading of so-called exotic wares, there have been stories told to massage the sale. True, embellished, or otherwise, a convincing narrative has the ability to enliven what might be a rather typical, perhaps even inferior, counterfeit, or forged product – whatever that means. Told long enough, without critical and inquisitive thought, these narratives can blind us to not only the truth, but other perspectives, avenues of thought, and solutions not dictated by presupposition.
For example, how many years, decades, generations must we attempt to solve the imbalance between labour supply and labour demand? Typically asking only the question ‘How do we solve the shortage of weavers?’ and rarely ‘Why would someone choose to work as a weaver?,’ it is as though the solution(s) are masked by a soothing balm of capitalistic (over)consumption now in a state of great imbalance. Whatever the cause, the prudent among us surely recognize that for ‘continuity and survival’ we must adapt ourselves, and the businesses environment to the paradigm of uncertainty now before us.
We must come to understand the stature of the luxury handknotted carpet under circumstances far different than those of the past, acknowledging luxury can be both egalitarian and rarified, but never quiet, nor discreet; there is always both a price and cost. I believe a more luxurious future requires a questioning of the value we derive from the cost paid – however measured.
Elevating the Maker
As a passion detached from the commercial, carpetry can indeed be as romantic as the industry portrays. This however is not the capitalistic reality in which we live. One in which the aforementioned hyperbolic language of persuasion masks much unsavouriness under the well intentioned but pompous guise of the preservation of craft and a nostalgic treatment of our relationship to handwërk and manual labour. On one hand I fervently agree we should maintain the knowledge of making and craft, on the other, I am not certain we truly understand what that means. Why is it, that the only handwërk and craft apparently worth preserving is that done by others, whomever they might be, so long as they are not us?
This is why I advocate for the maker, for it is the maker who translates drawn artwork into three dimensional textile sculpture for the floor. Working in collaboration with designers and traders (Often falsely portrayed as makers themselves.) it is the maker’s savoir-faire which makes a carpet a carpet and not just a digital drawing existing in the ephemeral ether. Akin to sorcery or engineering it is the carpetor, the weaver, the craftsperson who brings structure to chaos, order to the raw materials, crafting with many hands that which others might only imagine.
Of my past projects in Nepal, ‘Open Studio’ in 2023 is the one of which I am most proud for it earned this accolade from an attendee and friend: ‘For three decades I have worked in the rug industry as an academic and a retailer. ‘Open Studio’ now stands as the single most meaningful educational experience of my career.’ As one of the creators of the concept and as instructor, this brings me a great sense of accomplishment; even so, it was the greater effort on the part of the many hands of my colleagues at Karnor Carpets and Zekö Designs which made it possible.
I find contradiction in trying to elevate the perspectives of others without allowing them to speak for themselves, yet I know perhaps the only way these perspectives can even be heard is if someone else advocates on their behalf. It takes something akin to courage, stupidity, or nihilism to risk speaking truth to power, but these are the times in which we find ourselves.
Change and the Opportunities Thereof
Of course few of us have control over the vast large scale mechanizations of government, religion, civilization, and/or our economic system, but that should not rob us of the most powerful of emotions: hope. Hope for something better, hope that our children will thrive, hope for peace and tranquillity and all the other platitudinal desires which have – thus far – kept us from killing ourselves off completely. This is what His Royal Highness was alluding to.
‘Rebellions are built on hope.’
Jyn Erso, As played by Felicity Jones in Star Wars: Rogue One
My hope, foolishly grandiose and modernistic as it may be, is for those capable, those willing and able, to implement not incremental change, but rather real transformative change so as to ensure handknotted carpets not only retain a place of luxurious appreciation, but regain those elements of quality, materiality, slowness, and terroir that this era has, broadly speaking, misguidedly stripped from them. At least the version of carpets I subjectively view as worthy of accolade.
My view of the future envisions great makers, themselves conceivably something more than export traders, perhaps as skilled wholesalers, and indeed brands unto themselves, whose approaches to carpetry are in response the absurdities of this era now laid bare. This commands a better way to craft and trade in rugs and carpets, informed as it must be by past, present, and the expectations for the future. A model based on fashion with a focus on utility and enduring character; the value of the rug reïmagined as it were.
‘I’d rather be sparrow than a snail. Yes, I would, if I could, I surely would; I’d rather be a hammer than a nail. Yes, I would, if I only could, I surely would.’
‘El Condor Pasa,’ Simon and Garfunkel
This should involve no interest in managing a handknotted rug and carpet factory nor a rug trading house like those of the past. Nor should there be kowtowers nor unnecessary middlemen – excepting those who add value – nor should attempts be made to replicate and recreate new that which has existed since occidental rug traders closed their first sale. Why make a new business that looks like an old business? Are (k)not the circumstances of today different? There are already scant and scattered nascent examples, houses making great strides in either changing their business or starting innovative new ones. If pressed for examples, I would name Beni Rugs, Märta Måås-Fjetterström, and Auda Sinda, Bespoke Tibetan Carpets, then Retorra Rugs, Tamarian (under the ownership of Ryan Higgins), Karnor Carpets, and Shame Studios as those doing or at least attempting to do things differently in some way. The highly collaborative relationship between Lapchi, Battilossi, and Tāk Özer embodies much of what I envision while Jan Kath also deserves mention as I see even greater progress as a younger generation takes the helm. Likewise cc-tapis, illuminate collective, Noreen Seabrook, and in general the coöperatives of Morocco worth mention. Of course there are others who remain unmentioned, again to allow inference without committal. Or is it because despite my own delusions of grandeur and expertise I don’t know everything?
What the handknotted rug and carpet industry needs more and indeed what I envision as truly couture handwërk, is a craftsman’s workshop, an atelier, an integrated and vertical enterprise which would recruit the very best people in the trade; those who understand foremost the language of quality and craftsmanship, of time and slowness, of finesse, of drawing and design, of materiality and most certainly esse – the notion of what it means ‘to be.’
It should be an anchorage of truth and beauty harkening to storied past eras of carpet making, while integrating standards unparalleled so as to be of the calibre to which others aspire. A benchmarking standard of quality and integrity for that is the foundational soul of timeless carpetry. Anecdotal knowledge, ancestral savoir-faire, modern methodologies, progressive and inclusive management, and technology which aides humans, not replaces them, all of this guiding individual notions of superior craft, in order to establish a salon for the greatest luxury and the highest standards of workmanship. (With apologies to Mr. Christian Dior.)
The price, as measured by capital investment is not insignificant, yet I believe the costs are worth the expense. It caters, as it must, to the more moneyed classes, yet satisfies equitably the needs and wants of those in service, as it should. The standards of this workshop must be unimpeachable, sterling, and verifiable. The carpets produced therein held high (k)not because of vanity nor clever commercial propaganda, but because of what they are: technically correct carpets which transcend rationality to appease the irrational. A true hallmark of luxury, I postulate as the long term refuge of handknotted rugs and carpets, of handwërk carpetry.
‘…simply the best, better than all the rest…’
‘The Best,’ Tina Turner
I believe with studied past as prologue, now is indeed time to think about ‘continuity and survival’ especially if you aspire, as I do, to see the crafting of spectacular carpets akin to or ‘better’ – however you choose to define the term – than much of what is in the market currently, broadly speaking as I am of the big bell curve of handknotted rugs and carpets. Past eras of turmoil have offered great opportunities for artistic expression. Should not this era be the same?
Fostering a New Paradigm
It should not be understood that I have criticism of the extant system merely for the sake of critique, rather it is a philosophical shift which questions why we must remain beholden to systems from the past when the profoundly different conditions of today warrant changed if not novel approaches. In summary, traditions do and must inform, telling us where we have been, but they are not sacrosanct nor inviolable. They were conjured in the mind of someone, at sometime, and then for reasons – known, unknown, or otherwise – lingered in our collective embrace. But just as weavings have a lineage, each iteration informed by the structures that precede it, so too must our methodologies and practices be informed, though not dictated, by what has come before. It’s Modernism in the truest sense, being of this particular moment.
The circumstances of this time are such that a generational shift is taking place within the trade of handknotted rugs and carpets and while none of us can foresee the future, I do foretell of a changed business environment for those who trade in handknotted rugs and carpets; as if that were not already a metaphysical certainty. We can either choose to be a passive participant, a victim of circumstance if you will, or we can choose to be active participants, working at the vanguard to blaze a new path for what is a foundational technology of human civilization: weaving.
None of the sentiment herein is intended to transform makers into direct-to-consumer retailers. With utmost respect to everyone, this is a fate I’m not certain I would wish upon either party. Rather it is intended to connect a new generation of people interested in working more closely with makers, so as to collaboratively build new businesses, operating under new criteria – new paradigms, new systems – thus allowing handknotted rug and carpet making to continue. All the while still satisfying the wants of end consumers, regardless of what that particular model or system may come to look like. Perhaps it will be direct to consumer, I know (k)not. In the end, those that are successful must inspire want – a core emotion of luxury purchasing decisions – and I’m not certain emerging consumer demographics will want products made under exploitive inequitable conditions. At least I hope they don’t!
I have at times used the term ‘colonial’ to describe the industry, the occidental trade of handknotted rugs and carpets. I say this because while ‘colonial’ today does indeed present differently than when the sun never sat on a particular Isle’s empire, it is less dissimilar in concept than those who benefit care to admit. Wealthy countries, often phrased more delicately as occidental, Western, developed, or worst of them all, civilized, living in extreme personal and societal excess and luxury at the expense of poor or impoverished countries; themselves referenced by myriad terms, often derogatory.
Par exemple, I’m originally from the United States but now living in Canada. My North American existence is such that per capita, I consume, by huge, and I do mean huge margins – like 900% – more than a person in Africa. And while I did not choose to be this statistically over-consuming leach, I know that by taking more than an equitable share, we create unsustainable systems. On a planet with finite resources, except for solar energy, we should feel a moral obligation to address the fundamentally colonial (and thus unsustainable) nature of trade, in favour of benefiting everyone equitably. Please, explain to me unlimited growth in a closed system. As juvenile or utopian or ridiculous or socialist as it may sound, it is about using privilege to instigate or, perspective depending, foment change to the betterment of the entire handknotted rug and carpet supply chain and in truth, everything else. Either that or we can just keep silent, our heads in the sand. I implore you, consider the consequences of silence.
‘And in the naked light I saw ten thousand people, maybe more. People talking without speaking. People hearing without listening. People writing songs that voices never share; no one dare disturb the sound of silence. ‘Fools’ said I, ‘You do not know silence like a cancer grows…”
‘Sound of Silence,’ Written by Paul Simon
In Conclusion
Returning to history as our guide and tutor, I see the waning and waxing of the rug trade over time as both indicative of our inability, perhaps unwillingness, to find equilibrium, and reflective of the fickle nature of needs, wants, and desires. We fail repeatedly to speak truthfully about the rugs and carpets we sell, and we fail to find, let alone look for, real solutions to the problems facing the industry. I myself have failed in so many ways I care not make an exhaustive list because I find it regrettable, depressing, and insulting to intelligence. But that does not stop this formerly philandering, previously bankrupt businessman – who has at times been out of his depth chasing false dreams – from learning from his mistakes, nor improving upon what has been. (I’ve always been more a theorist. It’s why I find weaving so satisfying; I can do it successfully. How rewarding!!)
This is why we must be brave enough to have the hard conversations, to ask the hard questions in hopes of finding solutions which appeal to more people. We must ask why is there no questioning of the manifold unsubstantiated claims of sustainability? Why do we still complain of shortages of weavers? Why isn’t there a broader understanding of quality and transparency? Why must media kowtow to industry, and moreover why do people believe media is unbiased? Um hello!? Why?; Why?; Why?; Why?; ad infinitum as if we were just learning to speak and understand the world.
Fealty to Advertising Sales
A superior example of fealty to advertisers over adherence to truth is this 1 June 2021 email announcement from RugNews.com chronicling the sale of 260 Fifth Avenue in New York City to Amir Loloi of Loloi Rugs renown.
The email links here, but the original content describing the sale was scrubbed almost immediately after the email was first sent. One presumes, to appease the wishes of rugnews.com advertiser Loloi Rugs.
Information about the sale can be found via other sources less concerned about maintaining advertising revenue, access to information, and metaphorically fellating the egos of those in the rug and carpet trade. They can be found here and here.
At times I feel ill equipped to deal with the disconnect between what we know and what we say, what can be seen and what can be shared, what remains hidden and what should be told, what we know and what we don’t know. What is private versus what is public? And what is real, genuine, authentic? A challenging question to ask and answer in this time of intentional misinformation, duplicity, bad faith, and so-called artificial intelligence. If you’re using the latter to streamline your design process, are you likewise working to make the role of the labourer, the one who weaves, more leisurely? Of course this not just observation of the rug and carpet trade, it is obviously also allegory and, I hope, impetus for a new wave.
‘We must always tell what we see. Above all, and this is more difficult, we must always see what we see.’
Charles Péguy – Often misattributed to Le Corbusier
At the same time, I’ve come to realize I am out of touch with rug and carpet sales having last sold a rug in I don’t know when. I’m out of sync with rug traders, owing to a fervent belief that those who do handwërk, especially time consuming handwërk such as carpetry, deserve more; my philosophy of craft no longer aligning with the legacy trade of handknotted rug and carpets. And I am certainly now too contrarian and agitating to the status quo to continue as though everything is fine. It is (k)not. ‘You have eyes and you are an intelligent person,’ as a dear colleague once told me. I want to scream ‘Open them and stop being obtuse!!!!’ just as I once figuratively screamed ‘(K)not Again!‘ but it is not my place to dictate the imperative. You do you, but consider the consequences that ripple beyond lust for profit.
Broadly speaking, the rug trade and its sycophants, a harsh sounding but aptly descriptive word, are too preoccupied with metaphorically seating the lifeboats according to class while the Titanic that is the so-called luxury handknotted rug trade sinks into a dark abyss of climate change, social unrest, inequity, and commodification. Shit is indeed going down and it appears as though it will continue to do so in the near, if not long term. What am I, what are you, what is the handknotted rug and carpet industry, such that it is, going to change and adapt so as to ensure ‘continuity and survival,’ to persevere as we must? This asked as rhetorical segue.
We can find better novel and untested ways way to use the craft of carpetry to wield exceptional and amazing carpets into existence, while simultaneously doing so in more progressive, inclusive, equitable, and sustainable ways, all while being truthful about the reality of the situation with real transparency which allows us to trust but verify the information presented to us. But these real solutions, this real change must come from a well informed place in which all stakeholders and workers share a seat at the table. This must done honestly, collectively, and without dismissive or deferential attitudes of ego, arrogance, unwavering certainty, or privilege – relative as those all are.
Assuredly critique of His Royal Highness is not without merit, however this does not diminish the validity of his argument regarding ‘survivability and continuity.’ Since long before the height of colonialism, and likely since dirt was new, those with moneypower, the wealthy, have dictated the terms of engagement; in order to move forward we must seriously reconsider this arrangement. Wealth alone has no correlation to moral character and we should stop pretending it does, distancing ourselves from this complex of false superiority.
We must, as Dr. Toni Hagen cautions in his autobiography ‘Building Bridges to the Third World,’ be wary of the intent of those seeking to assist by understanding their goals may not represent the best interests of those they claim to help, rather the goals of those with the power of the purse, those with moneypower. (Specifically he speaks of non-governmental agencies, but the sentiment is broadly encompassing.) His altruistic and much lauded efforts to establish carpetry in Nepal worthy of revisiting even but for insight alone.
In the final analysis, if we aren’t making carpets that inspire people to want them, to feel real connection with the tactile, and to know we didn’t exploit others or the planet, then what are we even doing with our preciously finite human existence? Wait… Was this about rugs and carpets or the state of civilization? It is both and the sooner we comport ourselves accordingly, the better prepared we’ll be for ‘continuity and survival.’
Sic transit gloria mundi.