After a shocking getting-a-job related absence of 8 months (???!!!) I write to you today because - huge news - I saw a sick ass rug. Upon trusted recommendation I took my mom to Siena: The Rise of Painting 1300–1350 at the National Gallery for her birthday. The work on display was interesting enough but the highlight was two men who happened to run into each other while visiting, and stopped next to us to discuss (by example!) how a 14th century sheet of music would be sung, which was incredible.
Despite covering the engaging output of what seems to be not a particularly long period, we did suffer mildly from either too many rooms or a minor lack of benches, so don’t ask me about the final two rooms because my legs had clocked off by then. However, you can ask me about the Confronted Animal Rug on loan from the Met which was (unsurprisingly) my favourite object on display.
Confronted Animal Rug, 14th century. Attributed to Turkey, 165.1cm length, 138.4cm width. (c) Met MuseumConfronted animal rug, 14th century
These “Early Anatolian” carpets are depicted in various paintings from 14th century Siena as trade between Europe and the Ottoman Empire strengthened. This example is one of several that made their way into the market as monks fled from Tibet during the Chinese Cultural Revolution.
The field depicts four possibly digitigrade quadrupeds in two confronted pairs, each raising a front leg. Enclosed within them are smaller animals with three visible legs. These smaller animals are within a shape which I took to be abstract, but which Michael Franses in God Is Beautiful and Loves Beauty: The Object in Islamic Art and Culture suggests is a third level of animal, perhaps the senmurv (sinmurgh) of Persian legend. I’ll just be focusing on these animals, not the borders.
As Daniel Walker writes, the smaller animal within the larger one appears to be a “play on the stock image of an animal within a compartment found in many ancient and medieval textiles”. Other rugs of like origin feature this geometric style and compartmentalised organisation, but the Matryoshka doll effect is rare - there is a very similar carpet at the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha that has it but it is otherwise unique.
Altogether the symmetric shape of the tail, nested animal motifs and tiny heads create a whimsy that makes this piece unusual, while the three-leggedness of the smaller animals furthers the geometric element but still retains a balance that makes the rug pleasing to look at. Given there are more naturalistic animal depictions in other styles, this simplicity appears purposeful.
Interlude on Matryoshkas
Briefly - it has to be said that my original ideas for this blog literally consisted of a list of “smaller things that go inside bigger things”. I love to harass friends when trying to think of what to write so in addition to the list I had I did ask a friend, giving the extremely specific requirements that the thing has to be a smaller version of the thing it’s in, they have to be discrete objects (therefore excluding e.g., Earth’s layers) and has to be completely enclosed in the other thing. Together we came up with:
- Matryoshka dolls (obviously, and the Japanese nesting kokeshi dolls they were based on)
- Layers of pass-the-parcel (excluding the prize I guess)
- One specific Chinese porcelain teacup set contained inside a big teacup
- Onion layers
Interestingly this photo of Matryoshka dolls was taken in Japan.It was extremely difficult. If you have any other examples let me know because we were struggling.
Matryoshka dolls are popularly associated with maternal generational lines and fertility, and kokeshi dolls have similar associations with children. However, there’s also various interpretations of them as a representation of unity between body, soul, mind, heart, and spirit.
Our outlier: red animal on blue background as opposed to black/navy on yellow.
Journey to the centre of the ???
My point being that the inward direction of travel with nested symbols feels distinctly like an journey of self-reflection or truth. If we continue to pointedly and arbitrarily ignore the popular fertility interpretations for the time being, then the use of nesting objects as psychological metaphors becomes possible (verging dangerously on Shrek philosophy).
Given their representation in Sienese paintings of important religious scenes such as The Marriage of the Virgin, these rugs are imbued with significance well beyond their simplistic animal motifs. My guess is that their foreign provenance improved their luxury status - and indeed not every painted animal carpet has nested symbols - but it’s interesting to wonder about this inward journey in a religious context. Many religions have a reflective function and in Christianity this is no less the case.
I prefer this interpretation as my focus is drawn to the singular blue/red iteration of the smaller animal’s background in the top right, which hints at a difference between an individual and society. The outer animal is somewhat more flashy than the inner; their symmetrical (armoured?) tails are reminiscent of the antlers of these animals on a carpet in the Vakıflar Museum, Istanbul. On the raised front leg of each outer animal there appears to be a spur, and round the neck of each is a striped collar. Meanwhile, the inner animal has a much simpler rounded tail and no collar, as well as a simpler facial silhouette.
Combined, they have a distinct feeling of internal vulnerability/external hardiness. A group-oriented warning against individual difference, or a personal admission of feelings of isolation? The outer shell is identical to its peers in fashion (collar), anatomy, and stance, while the inner animal self is simpler, less intense.
Ultimately this single instance of variation draws the whole composition together. Regardless of intention, there’s a striking difference between the movement of the animals and the feeling of internal solitude that centres on this little guy. Or he was just sick af
