[TurkC-L] x0x Tracing Turkey's Ottoman legacy through embroidery
t...@aimnet.com
x0x Tracing Turkey's Ottoman legacy through embroidery
* 'The feelings of the Turkish people are contained in these old
pieces, and the rest of the world can come to understand us
through them'
HELEN BETTS
Ankara - Turkish Daily News
I'm sitting in a room that looks like any other in Turkey, and I'm in
a state of awe. I'm surrounded by remnants of the Ottoman Empire --
shimmering in gold and silver and silk are mosques and ships, garden
kiosks and Bosphorus yalis, coins and tugras, Ottoman phrases and
Arabic writing, knives and mirrors, suns and moons, stylized flowers
and trees of life. A myriad of colors dazzles my eyes, and the
glittering of precious metals takes my breath away.
You might think I'm in Topkapi Palace's Hazine, the Imperial Treasury,
looking at their magnificent collection of artifacts from an era gone
by, or that I'm wandering the exhibition halls of one of the country's
museums. In fact, I'm sitting in the Ankara living room of Alper
Yurdemi, overwhelmed by the splendor of his personal museum-quality
collection of antique Ottoman embroideries.
Yurdemi is justifiably proud of his treasure, the result of an ongoing
10-year labor of love, and is more than happy to explain to me the
history of this old art form in Turkey and the intricacies behind the
numerous pieces I'm enviously gazing at.
"Many people think that Ottoman embroideries were originally made by
women throughout Anatolia, but they were actually first produced at
and for Topkapi Palace in Istanbul in the 15th century. The public had
never encountered them before, but when various government officials
travelled to different parts of the country and intermarried with the
local populace, for example, the common man was able to see these
embroideries that had been created in Istanbul and wanted to make them
for their own homes as well," says Yurdemi.
Ottoman embroidery does not share a common origin with Anatolian
kilims and carpets, which were first made by the common folk rather
than palace personnel. "But there is a connection between embroidery
and Iznik tiles," Yurdemi explains. "You can see the same geometric
motifs, the same trees of life and flowers on both art forms, because
the tile work was initially made for the palace as well."
Embroideries take many different forms: napkins, towels, sheets, bed
coverings, sofa and pillow covers and wrappers for storing items at
home, for a few examples. Clothing, as well, was embroidered,
including wedding dresses, engagement garments, scarves, veils,
jackets, trousers and sashes -- all typical pieces, used in people's
daily lives.
Almost all embroidered cloth was handwoven, produced in cities such as
Istanbul or Bursa, as well as other urban areas across Anatolia.
"Bursa, for example, was a very special city for Turkish fabrics,
because there was silk there, and it became a silk center in the 15th
and 16th centuries," says Yurdemi. "The most predominant fibers used
were linen, cotton and silk, with some blends of cotton and linen or
cotton and silk being utilized for special effect. Neutral colors
predominated, because colored thread stood out better on whites and
creams. But for grooms' handkerchiefs in western Anatolia, colorful
textiles were used, and in Odemis, near Izmir, they produced batik
upon which they embroidered in gold and silver. For wedding dresses
and the like, only colored fabric was used, such as purple, red, brown
and green, because light colors would get dirty too quickly. And they
used gold and silver thread exclusively on these."
According to Yurdemi, thread made of silk was the mainstay in Ottoman
embroideries, and in palace work it was the only variety. Cotton or
wool can also be found in pieces produced around Anatolia, but wool in
particular was very rare. "Gold and silver thread was also widely
employed. If it's good-quality metal, it means that the piece was
embroidered in a rich family or in the palace. Sometimes less affluent
families who wanted to appear more well-to-do worked with copper
thread because it too had a gold color which unfortunately changed
over time. Gold and silver thread was used extensively in Istanbul and
Bursa, as well as in Bartin, which produced unique items with silver.
Odemis was also famous for embroidery executed in both gold and
silver, but there they used two kinds of precious metal: one being
very thin, like silk thread, and the other in broad strips, not thin
at all, but very rich-looking."
yurdemi1.jpg (29964 bytes) Yurdemi explains that all thread used in
the old embroideries was dyed with natural substances. "Onion, for
example, was used to make a brown color. The linden tree provided
pink, and walnut shells were employed for greens. Tea leaves produced
light brown and beige, while the use of a certain insect resulted in
cochineal, or red. Acorns and a copper compound gave shades of blue."
The most typical colors in the pieces are red and green, although
other hues are seen, with blue being rare. "It wasn't necessary to use
true-to-life colors. For example, you might find a blue tree or a
green animal. It's something like a dream; once the artist imagined
something, she made it however she liked. That's why you come across
oddities like brown roses." Not all embroiderers dyed their own
thread, he notes. "At the big bazaars in major cities, such as the
Kapali Carsi in Istanbul, these threads could be purchased ready-made.
I've often marvelled at how artistic Ottoman women must have been,
given the abundance of beautifully made designs in their handiwork.
Yurdemi, however, dispels this illusion by explaining the reality of
the situation: "There were men around the country who were adept at
drawing designs on fabric with a special pencil. For example, a woman
would come to him and say, 'I want a tulip design,' which he would do,
and the woman would take it back home and embroider it. You can find a
lot of similar pieces in Anatolia; this might be because a certain
man, say in Bursa, was paid by women going there to turn out the same
design for them. The colors, of course, could be vastly different, as
that depends on individual taste or imagination. Some women drew their
own patterns, but if they couldn't, they were able to have this done
for them."
Ottoman embroidery expresses the feelings of Anatolian women -- their
joy, their sorrow, something good or bad affecting their lives or
those of their families. "Tulips, carnations, roses and lotus flowers
are all signs of happiness, but the first three symbolize love in
particular. Sunflowers or 'starflowers' represent the togetherness of
the family. Why? In the morning, you see the sun rise with your
family, and in the evening you watch the stars or the moon together,
although it is very rare to find the moon in old embroideries. Fruits
with seeds, like pomegranates, or their flowers, or grapes or melons
are symbols of fertility -- for a child, for hopes of coming into
money, for a good crop."
Yurdemi continues to elaborate on other symbolism found in old pieces:
"The knife design signifies the power of the family and was also made
to celebrate boys' circumcision ceremonies. In addition, if a woman
liked a man, she might use the knife design to 'pierce his heart' and
send an embroidery bearing it to the man's home, giving the message,
'I've fallen in love with you.' If the feeling was mutual, something
might develop."
Living creatures also figured prominently in Ottoman embroidery. Fish
designs, for example, originated in coastal and lake areas and
represented fertility, good luck and a good harvest. "There are some
animals, such as horses, but these are rare. Maybe the embroiderer's
husband saw a horseman, so his wife incorporated it in her work.
Butterflies, too, are seen in their handiwork -- perhaps it was spring
in a village, and the woman saw lots of butterflies flying around. We
can't say all designs have deep meaning, although most of them do;
however, they may just represent the world around the artist."
Religion and mythology both played a part in the development of
textile art, explains Yurdemi. "Something like Noah's Ark pops up on
embroidery; it's part of Anatolian mythology. These were the kinds of
things that people talked about to their children, so they reproduced
them in thread. Also, the depiction of human beings was forbidden, not
by the Koran itself, but by the sultan, who served as the caliph and
head figure in the Islamic religion. He had prohibited the art of
painting, so for self-expression, people used embroideries instead.
"Nomads frequently employed bird designs, symbolizing freedom, on
their handiwork. For city folk, architecture might also be portrayed
on embroideries, for example mosques, representing religion and used
by devout Muslims, especially in cities like Konya, or in city-views
of Istanbul, whose skyline is punctuated by numerous mosques. You also
find villages and houses on work from places like Bursa or Konya, or
in southeastern embroideries, say from Diyarbakir," notes Yurdemi.
He brings up an interesting point about architectural designs on
handiwork. "These were like miniatures on embroidery. For example, a
miniature artist might draw buildings on fabric, and his wife would
embellish it with embroidery. There were also miniature artists in the
big bazaars sketching architectural designs on material for customers
to finish off in thread. This is a direct reflection of Ottoman
miniature art on Ottoman embroidery."
You would expect signatures, or tugras, to appear only on palace
designs, notes Yurdemi; however they are also found on domestic work.
How, he asks me, do I think women in the countryside would have had
access to sultans' signatures? The answer is obvious: on coins that
circulated around the empire. Other forms of writing can be seen in
Anatolian embroideries, such as "Masallah" or "Afiyet Olsun Efendim"
-- phrases for special days that personalized a gift to the
celebrants, such as a bride and groom.
One final thing must be mentioned as respects designs in Ottoman
embroideries: the influence of foreign countries. "You encounter
designs that did not originate in Anatolia. These often were copied
from gifts that overseas rulers, say from Europe or China, sent to the
Ottoman sultan -- a vase, a clock, a tile decorated with unusual
designs. Chinese designs abound in Ottoman embroidery, such as the
lotus flower, grapes or peacocks, which came from Chinese porcelain.
The colors, of course, were different, as the embroiderer might
imagine the thing in a totally different shade from the original. Or
she might take only one element of a foreign design and incorporate it
into her own work. These foreign designs had a strong influence on
Ottoman embroidery, and they were reproduced again and again in
Turkey, thus becoming an intrinsic part of Ottoman embroidery."
How can you tell the age of an embroidery, I wanted to know.
"Sometimes, there's a date, but that's quite rare. You have to study
the work: older ones have large and extensive designs, more geometric
motifs, architectural representations and a noticeable lack of
borders. They were also executed using very few colors -- three or
four at the most, but included a large amount of gold. The older
fabrics were quite heavy, whereas newer ones are more delicate.
Younger pieces have smaller designs, as thread had gotten expensive,
especially in the last years of the empire. After the 18th century,
the European influence became pronounced. Newer work is more colorful
because of the abundance of imported thread, and more silver than gold
was used because gold had gotten so costly," says Yurdemi.
He has some worries about the older pieces leaving Turkey and
generally keeps the best ones for his own collection rather than
selling them in his shop. "In the beginning, I wouldn't offer older
embroideries to foreigners, because I felt they were part of our
heritage and should remain here. However, now I do sell some of them
to people from overseas, because these foreigners can introduce Turkey
to the world. Not only the legacy, but the feelings of the Turkish
people are contained in these embroideries, and the rest of the world
can come to understand us through them."
About Alper Yurdemi
Born in Ankara in 1967, Yurdemi graduated from Ankara University's
Faculty of Languages, Geography and History in 1991 with a degree in
the archeology of proto-history and Asia Minor. His interest in
Ottoman embroideries developed due to the influence of his mother, a
professor of home economics and decoration at Gazi University. In
1993, he opened his shop called Cesni ("special things" in the Ottoman
language) in Tunali Hilmi's Ertug Pasaji, where he sells old
embroideries, framed and in their original form, along with other
Turkish handcrafts. Yurdemi has lectured on Ottoman embroideries at
Ankara's Baskent University, and his personal collection will travel
to Helsinki, Finland for a museum exhibit in 2000. Anyone wishing to
see his private collection is welcome to do so, and Yurdemi urges
interested parties to contact him at his shop or on 426-5787 to make
arrangements (he speaks fluent English and French).
__________________________________________________________________
Copyright 1999, Turkish Daily News. This article is redistributed with
permission for personal use of TRKNWS-L readers. No part of this article
may be reproduced, further distributed or archived without the prior
permission of the publisher. Contact: Turkish Daily News Online on the
Internet World Wide Web. www.turkishdailynews.com
For information on other matters please contact hk...@tdn1.com
__________________________________________________________________
------------------------------------------------------------------------
We are proud as punch of our new web site!
http://www.onelist.com
Onelist: The leading provider of free email community services