Eternal Springtime: A Persian Garden Carpet from the Burrell Collection
What makes the Wagner Garden Carpet so special? Similar to the other
two seventeenth-century garden carpets, this one contains a dizzying
array of birds, animals, insects, fish, and even snails amidst flowers
and leafy trees. It buzzes with life. Humorous or dangerous encounters
between animals take place in a formal setting based on the classic chahar bagh (literally,
"four garden") plan of Persian gardens. However, the Wagner carpet does
not follow the standard plan with a vertical central water channel
intersected by a large horizontal channel to form four rectangles
planted with trees and flowers. Instead, two channels run the length of
the carpet and are joined by a horizontal channel that does not extend
to the lateral edges of the rug. At the point of intersection is a
stepped rectangle, which is a repaired area that may have originally
contained a pavilion.
Although all gardens change over time, the walled garden with water
channels maintained its popularity in Iran well into the twentieth
century. As in the lower half of the Wagner carpet (above), channels
were lined with cypress and chinar, or plane trees, a variety
of the sycamore. These trees provided shade and color contrast. In the
hot, arid Iranian climate, water is scarce, transported to towns and
cities by underground canals that capture snowmelt from the mountains
and move it great distances. Landowners would purchase a portion of
this water to irrigate crops and their pleasure gardens. While poetry,
music, and conversation with friends and family all took place in garden
settings, they also provided a protected environment in which to grow
fruit and nut trees, vegetables, and flowers such as roses, iris, and
lilies. Most of the trees and plants in the Wagner carpet are rendered
in a botanically imprecise way, yet the profusion of foliage and
blossoms reinforces the impression of a delightful, perfumed bower.
For an enclosed space, such as an actual Persian garden would have
been, the assortment of fierce and peaceable animals involves very
little violence. Only the lions attacking goats (to the right and left
in the upper end of the carpet, above) hint that danger could possibly
lurk here. Otherwise, even the cheetahs near the horizontal central
watercourse appear to want to play with the goats before them. Ducks fly
through the trees and swim in the channels, while peacocks stroll
beneath the trees. Fish of several types navigate the watercourses,
while rabbits, foxes, and wolves gambol through the foliage. Imagine
sitting on such a carpet inside a building in winter or in a grand tent
in the desert. The delightful, animated scene might just transport one
away from either excessive cold or heat. Add to that any one of a myriad
of Persian verses that liken a beauty (male or female) to a cypress
tree, or a wine cup to a rose, and one can understand how such a carpet
conjures up the romantic frame of mind of much of Persian poetry.
Unlike the more stylized garden carpets of the eighteenth century, the specificity of animal species and some trees and plants in this carpet may imply symbolic meanings that are more particular than simply that of paradise. For example, the poet Hafiz (1315–1390) refers to a love object (the cypress) and the tears of the lover (the canal):
Unlike the more stylized garden carpets of the eighteenth century, the specificity of animal species and some trees and plants in this carpet may imply symbolic meanings that are more particular than simply that of paradise. For example, the poet Hafiz (1315–1390) refers to a love object (the cypress) and the tears of the lover (the canal):
The phantom of the stature of his cypress stands constantly in my eye,
Because the place of the cypress is at the bank of the canal.[1]
While such verses refer to a lover and her or his beloved, they also
reflect the mystical love of the divine. Likewise, Jalal al-Din Rumi
(1207–1273) uses the rose as a metaphor for Divine beauty:Because the place of the cypress is at the bank of the canal.[1]
Every rose that spreads fragrance in the outward world—
That rose speaks of the mystery of the Whole.[2]
That rose speaks of the mystery of the Whole.[2]
Animal symbolism may also have played a role in the Wagner carpet.
Birds are often characterized as being able to speak and are celebrated
in the poem Mantiq al-Tair (The Language of the Birds) by Farid
al-Din 'Attar (1145–1221), in which the hoopoe seeks to rally
twenty-nine other birds to set out in search of the mythical Simurgh,
a phoenix-like bird who lives at the end of the world. Although the
hoopoe is absent from the carpet, the birds depicted may include the
nightingale, a perennial favorite in Persian poetry, best known for its
attraction to the rose and its call when separated from its beloved
flower. Peacocks, which abound in the carpet, represent beauty as an
attribute of both the beloved and the springtime garden. Gray doves, on
the other hand, are partnered with the cypress, and their cooing, which
sounds like the word for "where" in Persian, represents the call for a
distant beloved.
Unlike the birds, the imagery of the four-footed animals in the
carpet may have a closer connection to the existing pictorial vocabulary
of animal combats in sixteenth-century carpets, and to the motifs of
animals in natural settings found in textiles of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, than to poetry. Carpets featuring animal combats
were produced in a variety of techniques in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries in Iran (above), and by the eighteenth century
poets were referring to the "lion in the carpet," confirming the
perennial place of the king of beasts in some classes of Persian rugs.
Although, when it was first made, the Wagner carpet most likely would have been larger and had different borders than it has now, the impression of glorious nature within a garden is no less powerful in its present dimensions (209 x 170 in.). Its flora and fauna coexist happily, calling to mind the court of the first Iranian king in the national epic, the Shahnama, in which all animals and man lived together in harmony. The abundance of blossoms evokes scented zephyrs and romantic verses, the perfect setting for springtime, captured in a walled garden for eternity.
Although, when it was first made, the Wagner carpet most likely would have been larger and had different borders than it has now, the impression of glorious nature within a garden is no less powerful in its present dimensions (209 x 170 in.). Its flora and fauna coexist happily, calling to mind the court of the first Iranian king in the national epic, the Shahnama, in which all animals and man lived together in harmony. The abundance of blossoms evokes scented zephyrs and romantic verses, the perfect setting for springtime, captured in a walled garden for eternity.
Notes
[1] Annemarie Schimmel, A Two-Colored Brocade (Chapel Hill, 1992), 164.[2] Schimmel, Brocade, 175.
Eternal Springtime: A Persian Garden Carpet from the Burrell Collection
On view from July 10 through October 7, 2018, in Gallery 462
Department:
Islamic Art
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