The Trunks of Azerbaijan are Open!
A Window of Opportunity, or a Trap for the Unwary?

by Steven Price

Figure 2. A complete mafrash woven in the cicim technique. 1'8"x3'3"x1'9". The hanging loops are horsehair overcast with wool. Probably Azerbaijan,
late 19th century

From Oriental Rug Review, Vol. 13/1

The rugs and weavings of Armenia, Azerbaijan and Turkmenia are among those most desired by American, European and Japanese buyers. Indeed, Caucasian and Turkoman pieces are probably more fashionable with western collectors than any others. Rugs produced commercially during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, mostly uninspired although some are beautiful and of excellent quality, make up the overwhelming majority of the available pieces. Smaller numbers, generally made to very high standards, were woven for presentations or for inclusion in bridal dowries.

The law of supply and demand is reflected in the prices of weavings from these regions, of course. The popularity of Caucasian and Turkoman works makes the current demand high. By a long-standing policy of the now-defunct Soviet government, it was illegal to export any rugs or other woven goods except those made in official Soviet workshops. Thus, the flow to the West was slow and this hindered increasing the supply. Furthermore, it was not unusual for nearly anything a citizen had that could be sold for hard currency to be confiscated (it is not clear to me whether this was an official policy or simply abuses by local authorities). To counteract this, many woven dowry pieces were hidden away in trunks. This further constricted the supply, especially of the very good dowry weavings, but had another interesting effect -- the trunked pieces were protected from wear and from the effects of light.

The dramatic collapse of the Soviet Union has made it much easier for goods to be taken from the Caucasus and Turkmenia. Visitors can bring rugs back with them, and Azerbaijani citizens are able to cross the border into Turkey to sell their own belongings. It sometimes seems as though every Russian apartment includes a rug hanging above the sofa, and the recent increase in Russian emigration has brought large numbers of mediocre rugs, all with hanging loops sewn onto one side, into the West.

One consequence of the Soviet Union's demise is the deterioration of the currency. The ruble was not exchangeable on the open market and bringing rubles into the U.S.S.R. or buying them from unofficial sources were punishable by prison sentences. Visitors to the U.S.S.R. could purchase rubles from official money changers for about $1.50. The average Soviet earned about 300 rubles per month. Since the rent in the government-owned apartments (when one could be obtained) was less than 10 rubles per month even in major cities, and the prices of goods and services were tightly controlled, the average salary sufficed for survival. Foreign goods were unattainable without exchangeable currency, and manufactured goods made within the Soviet Union were scarce and of poor quality. For example, while in Leningrad in 1979, I inquired about the closest place to go to purchase an umbrella, and was told that there might or might not be any in the city that day. Imagine asking the same question at the desk of any major hotel in downtown Chicago, a city of comparable size, and getting that answer! The price of the ruble in early September, 1992, was $0.005 (200 rubles to the dollar). The result of this nearly 300-fold loss of value is that many people of the former U.S.S.R. are desperately in need of hard currency. One source that some have found is to sell the woven goods that were hidden in trunks. The situation is a lot like that in Japan at the end of World War II, when tremendous numbers of Japanese antiques were sold at bargain basement prices by people in dire economic straits.

Some dealers who have been direct importers of rugs from Turkey, Pakistan and Afghanistan are now finding that they can obtain Azerbaijani dowry pieces at remarkably low cost, at least compared to what would have been normal just a few years ago. It seems pretty clear that Azerbaijani families with such treasures will fall into two categories. Some are financially stable; they don't need to sell the family heirlooms, and probably most won't be in the unfortunate position of having to do so any time soon. The others, those who are now converting their marketable items into cash, will run out of things to sell fairly quickly. The result will be that the availability of these weavings at low cost is a temporary phenomenon.

What are the dealers doing about it? Obviously, you might reason, they are buying up all the good pieces and putting them away until the prices rise again in a few years. In fact, though, this is not what's happening. Most dealers who import directly are small businessmen, and, like most small businesses, cash flow is one of their major problems. This is compounded by the fact that we are just emerging from a recession and theirs is a business that is extraordinarily sensitive to the economic cycle. Most of them are unable to tie up capital in stored inventory. What they are actually doing is going to their sources, buying what they can, selling it for prices far below what the market would have been a short time ago in order to raise more capital, then going back and buying again. Collectors who have good contacts with such dealers are enjoying the opportunity to see and purchase some outstanding pieces at prices that seem more than just reasonable.

I have selected three pieces that were available at retail from one direct import dealer during the 12 months that ended in June 1992 to illuminate the dowry weavings market. All three are in essentially mint condition, although the oldest had some areas of minor moth damage that have been restored and the youngest has a few small stains on the back.

Left
Figure 1a: One side of a complete pair of Azerbaijani soumak khorjins. The face 1'x1'2". The overall dimensions of the piece are 1'x3'1".

Right
Figure 1b: The back, showing the date, 1358 (1939 A.D.) and a pair of initials "D. M." to the right of the date.

The first is a complete pair of small bags. The size corresponds to what Reinisch refers to as children's or bicycle bags. The design, consisting mostly of small animals, and the vibrant colors (Figure 1A) appear to be of the sort one might use for a child's item (at least by the standards of our culture). The dyes are obviously synthetic. The date woven into the reverse side (Figure 1B) is 1358 (1939 A.D), and what appear to be two initials are inscribed to the right of the date. One interesting aspect of the date is that the weaver seems to have left out one digit, then added it later. It had to be put in above the line on which the other three digits rest because there wasn't enough space left on that line for it. My guess is that it was woven as a gift for a child, perhaps on the occasion of a birth. The retail price was $550.

The second piece is a mafrash done in the cicim technique (Figure 2). Bennett illustrates a nearly identical piece (his plate 458), estimating it to have been made in the late 19th century and noting that similar pieces were made in northeastern Turkey, Azerbaijan and northwestern Iran. Except for one of the hanging loops being loosened from its mooring at one end, the bag is in mint condition. All the dyes appear to be natural, and I believe that it was woven late in the 19th century. If none of the dyes are synthetic, the amount of aubergine in the mafrash is truly remarkable. The retail price was $2,400.

The third piece is an intact pair of Shahsavan saddle bags (Figure 3). There has been some restoration of minor moth damage, and a small repaired tear in the kilim back. The closure loops have been removed, although there are still a few threads where they had been attached. It is otherwise in mint condition. Reinisch2 shows a similar khorjin (his plate 21). He notes in discussing his plates 21-23 that it was once thought that bags using the diagonal stripes and dice field with the reciprocal border design were made before 1850, but the appearance of one dated 1854 proved that they were woven into the third quarter of the 19th century. I estimate that the one shown in Figure 3 was woven between 1850 and 1875. It is particularly difficult to attribute dates to Shahsavan pieces, and a worn and weather-beaten item can give the erroneous impression of great age to a young tribal weaving that has seen utilitarian service. The khorjin in Figure 3 presents the opposite problem; its nearly perfect condition resulting from having been stored in a trunk gives it an appearance that is anything but old. The retail price, after the minor restorations and repairs, was $6,500.

It is tempting to think that there is now a window of opportunity for traveling to the former U.S.S.R. and buying woven treasures for investment. I offer some caveats. First, although it seems very likely that this is a short term drop in the prices, it is a mistake to ignore the possibility that prices will remain low or even decrease. This could result if the increased supply is actually much larger than we think it is. In addition, the increased supply may influence a change in fashion that lowers demand. That is, the "investment" would have a rather speculative nature; it is not without risk. Second, it is reported that counterfeit "antique" soumak bags are being woven in Iran and sold to western buyers, so there is risk to the buyer who isn't sure he knows how to recognize a fraudulent weaving. Third, the amount of mediocre quality goods greatly exceeds the excellent (99% simply can't be among the best 1%!), so the "investor" with poor judgment can travel a long way and still not purchase excellence, particularly if he lacks good contacts at the source (a direct importer is likely to have good judgment and good contacts). I recently met one young traveler who, for $200, purchased a small Yomud rug right off the wall of a museum in the former U.S.S.R. While the rug he bought was certainly a bargain at $200, it looked to me like a mid-20th century piece of no particular distinction, and I cannot help wondering if more or less ordinary weavings are being hung on museum walls simply as a marketing ploy, being replaced as fast as they can be sold. After all, the person who would sell an item off the museum wall must be assumed to have less than saintly ethical standards. My advice, if asked, would be to cultivate a relationship with an importer/dealer and purchase only for aesthetic pleasure. But then, that would be good advice even if the trunks of Azerbaijan were still locked.

Figure 3: One side of a complete pair of Shahsavan soumak khorjins. The dimensions of the face are 1'8"x1'9"; the overall dimensions of the piece are 1'8"x4'1". Probably third quarter 19th century.

Notes

1. I am grateful to Saul Barodofsky (Sun Bow Trading Company, Charlottesville, Virginia) for permitting me to examine and photograph these pieces.

2. Helmut Reinisch, Saddle Bags, Verlag fur Sammler, Graz, 1985.

3. Ian Bennett, Oriental Rugs. Volume 1. Caucasian. Oriental Textile Press, Ltd. 1981.

4. Catalog for October, 1978 sale, Sotheby's (London), Lot 148.

5. Price, Steven, "A Very Old Shahsavan Mafrash: How Old is Very Old? The Problem of Dating Tribal Weavings," to be published.

6. Hali 40, July, 1988, p. 86 and Hali 58, August, 1991, p. 153.

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