Kermanshah: The Rug Maven
The back office of the Kermanshah Oriental Rugs Gallery on 5th Avenue, New York City. Photo by Mariacarla Bettocchi.
Written by Mariacarla Bettocchi
Every time I walk out of that Brandy Melville store on Fifth Avenue I set my backpack down on the dirty city pavement and try to stuff everything into its pockets. When I look up, I see my reflection, and behind it, rows and walls of the most beautiful rugs I’ve ever seen. On the glass is written KERMANSHAH ORIENTAL RUGS GALLERY.
When I sat down with Hamid Kermanshah to discuss his business and the tradition he was upholding, I realized I was treading on sacred ground. He spoke with perspicacity and stood as a continuation of a more-than-a-thousand-years old tradition of rug making. He himself had only been involved for a fraction of that time, having already begun while growing up in Kermanshah, Iran (his hometown, with which he happens to share a name). “I’ve been in this business for 65 years… and I’ve been around rugs all my life,” he remembered with a smile. While Mr. Kermanshah attended Columbia and Syracuse University, he never stopped working. The rugs were testaments to the great history and culture of Persia, like paintings in a worldly gallery.
A display of the beautiful array of intricate rugs and carpets. Photo by Mariacarla Bettocchi.
It takes years to make each carpet, depending on the size and the tightness of the knots. “A rug with six hundred knots per square inch would be much more valuable than one with two hundred knots per square inch,” he said, “and a real, genuine rug won’t shed. They are made of natural wool and vegetable dyes, particularly those made before 1920,”
Other dates swam by as our conversation continued and the July light grew hot against the walls covered in sublime tapestries. Before the 1979 revolution of Iran, New York City had been the prime spot to buy Persian rugs. The whole world, including Iranians, flocked over to purchase genuine carpets and resell them. But since the U.S.’s embargo on Iran, encountering authentic rugs has been less frequent with the rise in imitations over the years. “Most people, they don’t understand, or they don’t know the differences between Persian rugs and imitations. When they buy imitations, the value isn’t there… in the tradition of Persia, every village, city, family, has their own design, and they never copy each other. It’s like buying a painting. An imitation of one of Van Gogh’s works is pretty, but it’s never the same as the real, genuine thing.”
Not only do these rugs carry intricate stories and histories, but they hold much greater significance in Persian homes than they do in those of most Western cultures. Persian interiors are put together from the ground up; rugs become the hearts of rooms and halls, thus turning furniture and accessories into material aftermath. “I love when people understand that this art isn’t just something to put on the floor… (it takes incredible) work to (bring one to fruition),” Mr. Kermanshah told me, “a genuine rug is an investment. Taken well care of, it’ll last forever…”
Imitation rugs, apart from taking away the real value and story behind genuine ones, also pose a threat; most of them shed particles that, when broken down and breathed in, can cause respiratory difficulties.
Tea and medjool dates while chatting. Photo by Mariacarla Bettocchi.
Halfway through our interview, Mr. Kermanshah stood up to address the couple that had just come in to look at the rugs. I watched him run his hands over the thick carpet and interpret the curlicues and arabesque patterns lovingly to the pair. I admired him for his passion for such an intricate and extensive part of his identity.
Mr. Kermanshah talked fervently of the past. He showed me books with pictures of rug remnants from 500 BC and Pazyryk carpets found under Siberian ice. However, he showed no fear of the future, in spite of the rise in cheap imitations, despite the huge sale signs in his shop window, even despite a fall in appreciation for Persian culture. “I like to present quality goods to people. If I’m selling an imitation, I’ll tell the customer. I have to be honest,” he said.
If meaning should be applied to any objects, Iranian carpets are king. Visit the beautiful Oriental Rugs Gallery to see amalgams of virtues and values woven over time, symbols of the great Persian Empire, dusty calls to the past rolled against the walls, waiting to be unfurled in a new age.
Mariacarla Bettocchi is a high school student and co-founder of Rosebud. Her passions include Slavic studies, linguistics, cinema, literature, and listening to Houdou Nisbi by Ziad Rahbani for the thousandth time. As a proud Italo-Pole, she spends a lot of her free time trying to find the middle space between Federico Fellini and Andrzej Wajda. Mariacarla can be contacted at mariacarla.bettocchi@gmail.com.