1. Dear folks –
A few years ago, Daniel Walker,
speaking as the Director of the Textile Museum, began his presentation at a rug conference by asking
where the next generations of rug and textile collectors, textile museum supporters and textile
conference goers are to come from.
A titter ran through the audience.
Don't laugh," Dan cautioned, "there's hardy anyone in this room under 40."
It got quiet.
And, of course, all of us, rug collectors and enthusiasts, who frequent rug and textile museums,
exhibitions, conferences and clubs, are nearly constantly aware of the relative absence of younger faces
in this world.

2. Various strategies are being employed in efforts to draw the potential future
generations, but many of these seem to me to be predicated on the assumption that
the traditional material, residing in the various collections, institutional and private, is
not an asset, and that this drawing in must be based on contemporary textiles.
This is a post about an effort that attracts my eye because it does not "give up" on
the possibility that younger people might be encouraged to engage with traditional
rugs and textiles, and does so in a way that reserves to them the character of their
response.
The folks who have done this, are members of the Montreal Oriental Rug Society,

3. led, in this effort, by Giuseppe Di Leo.

4. In this post, I am going to present, mostly, a virtual version of the catalog
that was produced as part of this effort and exhibition, but I am also going
to talk to it, as I go along.
I will draw primarily on the catalog materials, but will also use some
others, I have been given on the side. As indicated elsewhere, I will also
sometimes supplement with outside images, to illustrate text points, as
well as to relieve fatigue from extended text reading on a monitor.
My treatment will not follow the catalog sequence, nor does it pretend to
be complete.
It will be long, but I think I can predict it will be interesting. Coffee and
wine breaks are allowed, even encouraged.
I have also, occasionally, indulged in modest editing, but hope not to
have intruded on the fact that these responses were created by members
of the Dawson College community, mostly student, but also some faculty.

5. The “Logic” of the Effort
The basic logic of the Montreal club’s design was familiar (quilter
“challenges” are often based on it, and, as I write, The Textile
Museum has an exhibition hanging that asked noted fiber artists to
look in the TM archives and choose a piece or pieces to serve as an
inspiration for a contemporary textile they would create).
But what attracted my eye, in particular, is the way the Montreal club
used this design to draw university students into traditional woven
materials, while reserving to them the unencumbered opportunity to
respond to them on their own terms.
To repeat: the Montreal club demonstrated that the traditional
materials in most textile museum collections are not necessarily a
disadvantage in efforts to engage new generations.
Giuseppe says more about how they did this in his catalog forward
which follows.
Note: I have added some images that are not in the catalog both to illustrate and break up the sometimes,
intensive, text only, passages.

6. Forward (this is Giuseppe, writing)
Oriental carpets, among other forms of woven goods, have been part of the
rich material culture of Central Asia and Western Europe.
They are integral to both secular and religious circles and have become
expressions of social status, aesthetic appeal, and emblematic markers of
tribal clans. Unlike other aesthetic forms of high art expression, however,
these items were functional for everyday use. Indeed, their tactile, but
lustrous, nature made them appropriate to keep the floors underfoot warm,
to rest or to sleep on, and to act as a mat for worshipping. Their makers
cherished these necessary objects of daily use and saw them as worthy of
artistic embellishment.

7. Anatolia’s carpet history is rich and colorful with blends of different cultures, languages
and ethnicities. In itself, this history may have been enough to satisfy a curator’s impetus
to mount an exhibition of antique Anatolian woven products, within the confines of an
equally vibrant college community.
Installation, Warren Flowers Art Gallery Dawson College, Montreal , Canada

8. I felt compelled, however, to add another dimension. Given my experience as a teaching
artist of 25 years at this institution, simply presenting ethnographic material in the
conventional manner for public education could not completely satisfy my desire for
interactive responses. Instead, I wanted to engage students beyond the mere cursory
looking at historical objects not immediately available within their experience.

9. How to temporarily distract them from the pulse of youth culture,
Warcraft III iphone
Relationships
StuDIES
Facebook
Athletics
Concerts
and, more importantly, how to enrich their experience of discovery and
connection, through positive reception of these textiles, were questions I had to
address.
Inevitably, the challenge was daunting, but the idea to convene a manageable
groups of students of diverse fields of study and ask them to creatively respond
to images of rugs, intended for an exhibition, seemed an innocuous, but
effective, approach.

10. The process was as simple as casting a net, though without any guarantee of gathering participants.

11. Equipped with a slide presentation,
and with guided assistance,
I visited a number of classes and followed up with a talk about the rug making process,
the weavers that made them, dyes, symbols and design, period of manufacture, purpose,
and their relevance then and today.

12. So why participate?
I explained a number of reasons.
In contributing to this project, a student would, inextricably, become implicated in a community
undertaking and, with their voice, draw the community’s attention.
Their inspiration and intimate responses to these woven objects would also empower them to convey
a message acknowledging the richness of cultural diversity over the cultural differences that set apart
and alienate regions and societies.

13. Sue Elmslie,
literature teacher of the Song and Poem course, was
very receptive in introducing this idea as a springboard
for an assignment in her course.
Andrew Katz, of the English department, and a coordinator of the
SPACE initiative, was instrumental, largely responsible for
drawing the attention of students and faculty beyond my grasp.

14. Several faculty members, who were significant in attending to students as well, took it upon
themselves to contribute to creating a work.
Several students and faculty availed themselves of the resources offered by members of the Montreal
Oriental Rug Society, who were readily available in answering questions.
The “Anatolian project,” as it was dubbed, became a directed project, with the expressed hope of
inclusion, irrespective of a student’s course or program.
MORS members Bruce Young and Jim Hampton, Pres. Frank Mulvey, Artist and Faculty

15. What is manifested in the exhibition and in this catalogue, through artwork, creative writing,
documentation and science analysis, are students’ desires to contribute beyond the scope of their
studies towards participating in events designed to enrich our community and their own welfare.
Anatolian Rugs; Spirited Reflections
And within such an endeavour, it was my aspiration, after all, to share through both the student’s
language and that of the rug enthusiast my passion for beautifully crafted woven items.
Giuseppe Di Leo,
Director, Warren Flowers Art Gallery
Dawson College, Montreal

16. The catalog begins with a still by two
Cinema and Communications students
Max Marin and David Allen. Their
contribution was a video presentation of
an interview with Montreal dealer and
MORS member Mourad Ozcanian.
Below is their statement.
Anatolian Carpets: Through the Eyes of Mourad
Our ambition is to present the cultural and traditional values of these carpets in Montreal compared
to those of the Anatolian homeland through a filmed documentary. These piece of art have, as
some would say, devolved into a corporate endeavor, yet the expressions and symbols of the past
are still present in every carpet. Mourad is a collector and distributor of these antique carpets. His
interpretations and uses of these masterful carpets as well as a glimpse of the Anatolian carpet
trade in Istanbul, make up what this video project is all about. Whether it’s here in the heart of the
western world or across the globe in the birthplace of of these artistic pieces, every carpet has a
story and everybody involved days to day with these works can shed some light on what these
Anatolian carpets really mean today.

17. Bruce Young, a member of the Montreal Oriental Rug Society, wrote this catalogue introduction:
Antique Anatolian Carpets and Textiles
Anatolian weaving means many different things to many different people. The region
referred to by rug collectors as Anatolia would, today, cover much of modern Turkey.
Although weaving has undoubtedly taken place in this region for thousands of years, the
oldest surviving examples date back to at least the 13th century. Precise dating of these
fragments is uncertain and is largely based on the age of the mosques where they were
found or on other ancient accounts that are simply inconclusive.
The evolution of Anatolian weaving since the 13th century is best understood by
examining the many cultural and political changes that were occurring at that time.
Design and colour in textiles from this period were influenced by many factors including;
the expansion of the Muslim faith in the region by
the Seljuk Turks followed by the Ottomans, the
silk trade with the Far East and, the tribal and
often nomadic nature to the peoples inhabiting
the remote regions of this vast territory.

18. At approximately the same time the Ottomans were capturing Constantinople and
establishing an empire that would last until the end of the First World War, Anatolian
weavers were producing carpets that were fervently sought out by the rich and powerful
Europeans of that time.
A testament to the great value that was placed on these carpets is the manner in which
Anatolian carpets were portrayed in Renaissance paintings by such artists as Hans
Holbein (1498-1543), Lorenzo Lotto (1480-1556) and Hans Memling (1430-1494).
Magnificent Anatolian carpets were displayed on the tables and floors of the wealthy or
on the altars of cathedrals. Descriptions of Anatolian carpets still refer today to the
“Holbein pattern” or the “Memling gull” and have a direct link back to the design elements
found in the carpets displayed in these 600 year-old paintings.

19. The design, dyes, weave and tradition of Anatolian pieces from this period provided a
basis for the development of Anatolian rugs through the 18th and 19th centuries. During
this period, the complexity, the bright and vibrant dye colours, the predominantly wool
construction and the use of the symmetrical knot are where the similarities between
Anatolian weaving ends.
The stylized flowers and curvilinear designs, found in some Western and Central
Anatolian carpets, are in contrast to the dominant geometric and rectilinear designs of
Eastern Anatolian weaving.
The coarse weave of the Konya rugs and tribal Yöruks have a much different look and
feel when compared to the denser weave of the Gördes prayer rug or Kula.
The classic sejjadeh or prayer rug size was dominant, but so, too, was the heybe, or
small bags, and yastik, or “cushion” rug.

20. Anatolian rugs and textiles from the Ottoman period were not woven by machines or
mass produced, but were hand-woven by men and women for use in grand Ottoman
palaces and mosques or to decorate the floors and walls of tents, or carry grain and salt
to markets.
The art of Anatolian weaving evolved through this period, apprentices learning from
master weavers, daughters learning from mothers. Weavers were guided by and
borrowed from traditional design, but added new elements, reflecting changing cultural
influences, a nomadic way of life or simply artistic licence. In nomadic tribes, women
were the weavers, proudly passing on traditions, patterns and colours through natural
dyes, from grandmother to daughter to granddaughter.
This is how Anatolian weaving developed from the time of Holbein to the First World War.

21. Nineteenth century Central Anatolian Mucur, Kirşehir and Ladik prayer rugs, early 19th
century Western Anatolian Demerci rugs, the tribal Yöruk rugs of Eastern Anatolia, 19th
century Western Anatolian Monastir rugs, Malatya and Gaziantep Anatolian Kurdish rugs,
Transylvanian designs and antique tribal kilims are part of a collection of Anatolian
weaving that is as much art as utilitarian, as much a representation of diversity of culture
as it is commerce.

22. Zoe Worsnip, a Liberal Arts student respondent, chose the catalog cover rug for her focus. She wrote
about the “Holbein” gul that decorates its field.
Yoruk Rug
First half 19th century
Malayta, Kurdish, Eastern Anatolia
112/124 x 249 cm
This piece, even with some condition issues, illustrates the lustrous wool and beautiful dye colours
employed by Kurdish weavers in the mountainous Malatya region of Central/Eastern Anatolia.
Of particular interest is the use of the Holbein motifs in the three remaining “Sandikli” guls.

23. Here is what Zoe wrote:
Holbein Motif
The earliest known creations of Turkish rugs date back to the 14th century. In fact, most surviving
copies were designed for commercial purposes and traded throughout the Orient, reaching the far
corners of Europe by the 16th century. Given the distance to which these creations were distributed,
only a careful analysis of a rug’s intricate pattern, colour and weaving could shed light on its origins.
In order to understand the origins of early Turkish rugs, researchers began separating abstract
patterns into classes of distinctive geometric repetitions. These patterns were oftentimes depicted in
Renaissance paintings and, as a result came to be designated by the name of their painter.

24. One of the most important instances of this phenomenon
is the Holbein motif, depicted in The Ambassadors (1533)
by Hans Holbein the Younger
The Holbein motif is one of the earliest Turkish rug designs, used prior to the 15th century up until the
second part of the 19th century. This design typically takes two different forms: the small patterned
Holbein and the large patterned Holbein. Both types are made up of an octagon paired with a gul
motif. A gul motif is considered to be a tribal emblem of such nomadic people as the Slaghur or Salor
Turkoman, who were central weavers of the time. The larger design,
present in this Yoruk from the Malatya region and dating back to 1800, depicts the larger Holbein,
which contains greater Islamic strapwork detailing its interior forms. The Holbein design’s long-
standing use even permeated into rug motifs made by Islamic and post-Islamic Spain, as well as
Egypt. Nevertheless, its depiction in western paintings remains one of the most popular and
recognized representations of early Turkish rug creations.

25. Holbein’s Ambassadors depicts two men, Jean de Dinteville and George de Selve, on opposite sides
of a table, symbolizing the secular and religious powers in fifteenth century Europe.
While both men appear to rival each other, they are overshadowed by the series of objects strewn
across the large Turkish rug covering the table. These objects portray the recent advances in
science and other technologies. Innovations such as these greatly affected the efficiency of
exploration, eventually giving rise to the Age of Discovery.

26. The Turkish rug, found underneath various tokens of the Renaissance, presents the basis of all other
fourteenth and fifteenth century innovations: capital.
As trade increased, materialist desires did too, prompting a desire for luxurious and exotic things such
as the Turkish rug. Creations such as these came to be traded through the increasingly numerous
Oriental trade routes. Increase in trade meant economic security, which fuelled all other sectors,
such as arts and sciences.
Thus, the presence of a Turkish creation in western European art bears witness to the rise in
economic power of the European states, which could be seen as a building block toward all other
Renaissance achievements.

27. Erin Lacelle, a Graphics Design student, with a background in science, chose the rug below for her
response. Her response is the image on the right.
Double –Niche Demirci Kula Electron Mircrogaph of Plant and Animal
Tissues
(magnified 10 million times actual size)

28. Here is the gallery label on the Demirci Kula rug.
Double –Niche Demirci Kula
Late 19th century
Dermirci (near Kula), Western Anatolia
121 x 171 cm
The design of this rug is based on the variant of a double-niche “Transylvanian” rug with design
similarities notable with a Transylvanian rug fragment you will see later in the exhibition. An
almost exact replica of this rug is found on the cover of the book “Carpets of the Orient,” by Ladmilla
Kyborla and Dominique Darbois.

29. And here is the catalog description of Ms. Lavelle’s micrograph response image.
With this project, the designer aims to expose the public to the beauty of the shapes and
structures traditionally exhibited exclusively to the scientific community. The response to
the Kemirci Kula ws produced using electron micrographs, which were used with permission
from Dartmouth University’s database. The images are samples of a walnut stem, mamallian
lung tissue and mamallian pancreatic tissue, manified up to 10 million times their actual size.

30. And here is a one-quarter detail of complete image to let you better see the detail in this imaginative
response.

31. The Demirci Kula rug inspired two other student responses.
First, it inspired the poem below by Marie-Claude Gill-Lacroix.
Demerci Kula
Feeling of the knees that once were pressed
White marks where the weave is distressed
Those prayers, they weighed
Flowered skirts: prone are the followers
Blue petals flirt with legs of bobbers
Blooms for an hour
Prayer rug for a ancient Turk
Flowers bloom for a young girl’s work
Tremendous worth
Demerci Kula on the wall
Raised at last, no prayer, no fall
Poised and stretched tall

32. The Demirci Kula rug also drew a response from
Armen Keuchguerian, a Fine Arts student. This is
how he described his graphic submission.
I chose the Demirci Kula 19th century rug as
my source of inspiration due to its very captivating
intricate designs, patterns and colors.
The deep blue and the red ornate center enclosed
within a light frame of flowers, evokes a narrative
I try to grasp within my piece.

33. A late 19th century
Mucur rug, with a niche
format, also drew several
responses.
Mucur Prayer Rug
Last quarter, 19th century
Mucur (Mudjur), Central Anatolia
118 x 178 cm
A prayer rug from the Central
Anatolian region. Although best
described as a Mucur, the rug
shows many design elements
associated with the Kaysehir
weaving area. Classic use of red
wefts, combined with red mihrab,
outlined in light blue and set of a
green field. Of particular interest
are he design elements in the
centre of the mihrab.

34. First, Michael Oberman, a student in history and economics, wrote the essay
below, focused on this rug.
Beyond the Prayer Rug : Window Into the Culture of Time
The history of the later Ottoman Empire is rife with intense paradoxes.
Having survived immense decline throughout the 18th century, the Ottoman
Empire would experience a resurgence which would allow it to survive
another century, finally ending with the First World War. Even stranger than
the empire’s unexpected revival is that fact that these economic, social and
political advancements were, for the most part, diffused from generations of
prolonged conflict and social interactions with Christian Europe. However,
this is not to say that the Ottoman Empire was under-developed, in fact, the
traditional view of the backwards and savage Islamic world has been
revisited in recent years to acknowledge the “advanced and cosmopolitan”
(Philliou, 1) qualities the empire exhibited as a whole. This is not to say that
the Ottoman Empire existed in a perpetual utopian existence. The decline
throughout the 18th century had created numerous social conflicts and
Ottoman art like this Anatolian rug reflected the anomalies which existed in
modern-day Turkey throughout the 19th century.

35. The first event of interest to us when examining the rug on the left was the
growing industrialization of the Anatolian rugs during the 19th century. The
rich of Europe saw no problem with fighting a theological war with Turkey
while simultaneously consuming their luxury goods, and as a resiult
“European demand for ‘oriental carpets’ mounted rapidly” (Quataert, 2). As to
why this demand suddenly appeared, it is possible to cite the increase in
wealth caused by the Industrial Revolution happening in Europe at the time.
To compensate for this increased demand Christian workers began to be
allowed in the rug industry. Also of note is the rise in power of the Phanariots
experienced about the same time period (Philliou, 10). The Phanariots were
a network of Christian elite “intimately bound up with the Ottoman
government (Philliou, 13). Considering the plethora of influences , at the
time, it is not surprise then that there was a possible theocratic exchange that
took place, undetected by both parties involved. This phenomenon serves to
explain the presence of anchors, traditional Christian symbols on an Islamic
prayer rug.

36. The anchor, drawing off its literal use, is seen in Christian theology as a sign
of Christ, as he is the permanent weight the devout use to situate themselves
in the physical world (Hassertt). Due to the monotheistic nature of the Islamic
religion, there should be little difficulty in expropriating the symbol of the
anchor and applying it to Allah: which is exactly what happened. Similarly,
the flower and garden imagery one sees on the rug almost assuredly
originate in the Garden of Eden motif present in Judeo-Christian works.

37. However, it is important to understand that the rug was created in a culture
ruled predominantly by Turkish and Islamic values. The geometric patterns
which repeat all over the rug are unique to Anatolian art work and were
heavily favored by the Ottoman elite. (Miccuci). It is also possible that the
recurring patterns emphasize the orderly pattern of nature of a divinely-
created world, but, an analysis such as this can only be considered an
educated guess (Miccuci).
The shape in the center of the carpet is indubitably a mosque, and the tipe of
the building is meant to point toward Mecca.
The mosque also serves as an indicator of where the worshiper is to sit on
the prayer rug, but done so in a particularly symbolic manner.

38. Lastly, there is a possible color symbolism which takes place on the rug.
Generally, in Anatolian artwork, red and white respectively represent
innocence and purity (Halici).
The almost sole use of these two colors inside the mosque , perhaps,
emphasized the importance of these qualities in the Islamic religion.
As we have seen through an analysis of many of the aspects of the Mudjur
prayer rug, all levels of art can be used as a window into the culture of the
time. The fusion between Islamic and Christian symbolism which takes place
on the rug is representative of the strange social atmosphere which
characterized the Ottoman Empire at the time.

39. Frank Mulvey, a faculty member,
also chose the Mucur “prayer” rug
for his submission.
Here, first, is the image he
produced. I’m presenting it here ,
initially, without any explanation,
excepting to say that he describes it
as a “charcoal drawing,“ not as a
“photograph,” and that he entitles it
“Temple for Humanity, 2011.”

40. I had asked Guiseppe whether we have any images of contributors, working on their
submisons, and Mr. Mulvey had documented his creative process , carefully.
So, here is a little side-trip to observe that.
This is Mr. Mulvey writing:”
…I was struck by the prayer niche
architectural motif.
I decided to make a drawing of the rug in
an architectural setting.”

49. Here’s Frank Mulvey’s
catalog description of his
piece and the process he
used to create it

50. A third response to
the Mucur “prayer” rug
was created by
Madeline Sibthorpe, a
Fine Arts student.

51. Although, the Mucur is
her inspiriation
reference, Ms.
Sibthorpe has shaped
her response to it
distinctively. She has
retained its “niche”
design character, but
has changed its colors
and design specifics.
Her creation is open to
different readings. It
could be a covering
with holes through
which parts of an
underlying carpet can
be seen.
But there are shadows
around the “shoe”
prints and some sole
designs can be seen.
What is going on here?

52. Here is Ms. Sibthorne’s
description of her intent.
My piece is a reflection
of how we leave marks
everywhere we walk.
This is especially
noticeable on carpets.
I wanted to show the
beautiful patterns of
tapestries on the
bottoms of the shoes,
imprinting not only the
ground, but the shoe.
This piece also shows
how little people think
about what we are
experiencing.

53. There were four yastiks in the exhibition. Here they are, one at a time with their
gallery labels.

57. Cristina Negrean, a student in Health Sciences, selected this fourth yastik for a very
definite purpose.
Here is her response to it as it appears in her catalog entry.

65. Vanessa Fleising, a student in Fine Arts,says:

66. The seeming, primary, reference
rug looks like this:

67. Lucas Ferguson Sharp,
a Fine Arts student,
also chose the yellow
ground Konya “prayer”
rug for his response.

68. Azin Mohammadi, a student, created the poem on the right, in response to the exhibition.
He did not reference this specific rug, but could have been thinking of a similar one.
Karakecili Rug
19th century
Western Anatolia
138 x 82 cm
Karakecili (“black goat”)
Wefts are black goat hair

69. There were three Konya “prayer” rugs in the exhibition. This contribution by Emilie
Cassini, a student, was placed opposite the second one in the catalog.

70. And here is the
second Konya “prayer
rug”, again, with its
gallery label.
Konya Prayer Rug
19th century
Central Anatolia
100 X 147cm

71. The third Konya “prayer”
rug, did not draw a
specific response. My
own is that I’d take it
home in a minute.

72. Here it is, again, with a
gallery label you can read.

73. And a couple of closer detail images.
Gauche, but nice.

74. Jonathon Pleshko, a
student, responded to
a Manastir rug with a
“niche” format.

75. Roy Hartling, who heads the
Professional Photography program
at Dawson College responded to
this rug.
I cannot show, adequately, the
details in his photo of a wall in
Istanbul, but let me try on the next
page

77. And here, again, is the
inspiring Karapinar rug,
this time with its gallery
label.

78. Elissa Brock, a Health Sciences student, asked three questions of the rugs in the
exhibition:
Why Are the Colours of Rugs, Made in Eastern Anatolia vs Western Anatolia, Different?
How Does the Dye Bond to Wool?
How Do Different Chemicals Create Different Colours?
I’ve repeated her questions ,on the next three pages, together with her answers, and
associated them with rugs from the exhibition.

79. Eastern Anatolia Western Anatolia

81. Kurdish Rug,
Eastern
Anatolia

82. Andrew Katz, a faculty
member, choose a rug,
originally, likely, woven for
tourists, but now old
enough to collect as an
oddity.

83. Rugs like this were also woven in
accurate reproductions of
Turkish paper currency.
Mr. Katz juxtapositioned this rug
with a quotation attributed to
Seth Lerer, who does historical
analysis of the English language.

84. Alfred Hitchcock, famously, founds ways to insert himself into his movies,
Well, the next rug provides me the chance to do that, too.
I first heard about this Montreal exhibition and project when Giuseppe Di Leo, sent me an
email, asking whether a participant in this project could draw on my postings on my
Textiles and Text web site. I said “of course,” and eventually Giuseppe sent me a copy of
the catalog.
I had given a Textile Museum “rug morning” on the “Memling gul” motif and had
subsequently posted a virtual version of it on Textiles and Text.

85. I got nearly through the catalog before
discovering that Susan Elmslie, a faculty
member, and one of the real forces
behind this exhibition and project, had
picked this rug as the focus for her
response.
You may remember in Moliere’s play of
that name, his Bourgeois Gentilhome,
informed by his teacher that literature is
divided into poetry and prose, and that
every word his speaks is prose. Goes
out, proudly, bragging about that.
Ms. Elmslie, had done Moliere one
better: she had used some of my
description of the Memling gul in my
post, to fashion a “found” poem about
the Memling gul.

86. There was a rug in the
Montreal exhibition
with Memling guls.

87. Here is Ms. Elmslie’s poem.

88. There’s a little more to notice about Ms. Elmslie’s contribution.
Look, again, at her title.
Poets, and lit majors may know perfectly well what “pantuom” means, but folks like me likely have to
look it up.
When you do, one discovers that a “pantuom” is a specific poetic “verse form, composed of quatrains
in which the second and fourth lines are repeated as the first and third lines of the following quatrain.
So much for “finding.”
Ms. Elmslie’s “findings” and construction of her poem are not serendipitous. She is a skilled poet, at
work in her craft.
Now read it, again, on the next page, with new eyes.

90. OK. I started with an issue and a question and I don’t want to lose it.
I said that the Montreal “Anatolian Project” attracted my eye because it was an
effort that did “not "give up" on the possibility that younger people might be
encouraged to engage with traditional rugs and textiles.”
So how did they do? What were the apparent results?
Well, first, I think we have to say that their “engagement” objective was achieved. The
contributor area on the credits page of the catalog, lists the names of 25 students and
four faculty members.
More, many of the accepted and published responses to the rugs in the collection were
imaginative and creative, and some, it seems to me, were quite remarkable.
I would hold that the Montreal Oriental Rug Society has demonstrated that it is quite
within our reach to engage the “next generations” with the kind of traditional material that
populates most of the collections of most museums with a significant rugs and textiles
collection.
There is no need to assume that traditional materials are not an asset in appealing to the
folks that follow us. We just have to be creative about engaging them.

91. Yes, there were instances of seeming less than gifted poetry (although we should
probably be cautious about that judgment, unless we are competent in that field).
Experienced collectors might complain that some rugs of real merit were not selected for
response and should have been.
But it seems to me that the basic design “worked” very well.
More, I would argue, that the real engagement of the Dawson College community is not
fully indicated by the favorable results in the exhibition and catalog.
It cannot be but that an exhibition in which student peers successfully, visibly participated
would not draw a wide audience of Dawson College students and their friends and
families.
I hope that other groups and museums will notice the Montreal Oriental Rug Society
effort at Dawson College, and be encouraged to mount efforts to draw the next
generations into the traditional material that dominate their collections. There is no
reason to give up.

92. Let me end with the following acknowledgements from the catalog’s last page. I’m sure this is
Giuseppe Di Leo writing. Thanks to him and his group for making this virtual version possible.
R. John Howe

93. The next several slides are pictures of the
Vernissage and gallery installation
Giuseppe Di Leo welcomes and addresses the public at the
Vernissage.

94. An attentive audience with students
faculty and members

95. The evening was
celebrated with fine wine
and Turkish music

100. Students assisting with the installation. It was
important ( and fun) to have them engaged
and collaborate in making judicious decisions
about placing and carefully handling these
fine handmade specimens. (…members felt
students had more fun!!!)