Azerbaijani artist Faig Ahmed boldly declared in an email: “I want to do everything I can with all the existing instruments, so that in the next 100 years no one can do anything with them.” As if writing his personal manifesto.
Lately, his experimental and sometimes sculptural versions of Middle Eastern rugs can be seen everywhere from the Venice Biennale to the Dubai Financial Center. Ahmed reinvents traditional patterns in his mesmerizing handwoven pieces, creating rugs that must be taken seriously rather than walked on. In some works, the patterns appear to bubble or melt into a colorful oil slick. In other works, graffiti-style letters, cartoon characters or pixel-like blocks overlap with typically ornate decoration. Ahmed incorporates elements of contemporary culture into objects culled from time-honored traditions.
Many Western readers are familiar with Persian replica rugs spun from acrylic threads, and may have even grown up with them in their homes. These gorgeous rugs entered European consciousness as early as the thirteenth century. Renaissance paintings often feature them in the background of Annunciation scenes and portraits of the Virgin Mary. Over the centuries, these rugs were commodified and removed from their original context, essentially stripped of their meaning and turned into kitsch objects in Europe and the United States.
But in Azerbaijan, carpet making is an ancient craft and a source of cultural pride. The tradition of weaving these ornaments dates back to the fourth millennium BC and remains a ubiquitous feature in Azerbaijani households today. Azerbaijan has a wide variety of regional schools, and its rugs stand out from other Middle Eastern traditions with their angular, geometric designs.
“Given the deep influence of tradition, carpets remain a symbol of home, comfort, family values and hospitality,” commented Ahmed.
By redefining this traditional object, the artist offers an invitation to Middle Eastern and international audiences to rethink the ways in which the past influences the present. Furthermore, he encourages us to consider which aspects of our tradition are worth preserving.
Ahmed said that before he started working on rugs, he thought their structure was immovable. While rugs may seem mundane, even trivial, this statement has implications for the way many of us embrace the norms of our socialization—whether they have to do with our religious upbringing, the messages surrounding us in popular media, or otherwise. When certain practices are passed down from generation to generation or ingrained in us from childhood, they carry with them implicit beliefs and worldviews. Thinking critically about what cultural practices we accept in our lives allows us to use history to define our own present.
“Azerbaijan has many interesting and beautiful traditions, but some of them should be left behind like ballast,” Ahmed said. “The people of Azerbaijan are very flexible and can easily blend the past and present, but there are conflicts between different generations. It is impossible to build anything new without breaking the old. Nothing is permanent.”
