EXPECT THE EXTRAORDINARY

How much food can one man eat?

For most of my career, my favourite place to go looking for carpets, the old, the rare, or the simply beautiful, was the city of Peshawar in the North West Frontier of Pakistan. During one of my most memorable visits, I think it must have been about 20 years ago, my agent and I were rummaging around the main carpet bazaar when we found four unusual Turkomans. These were Ersaris, of a kind that I had only ever seen in publications about antique carpets. They were obviously new, but the quality of the weaving and of the hand spun wool, the remarkable range of colours and the variety of designs, indicated a pedigree that was nothing short of astounding. Without hesitation I bought them all, but when I asked where I could get more, I was told that it was rare for these Ersaris to ever turn up in the bazaar. We later learned that they came from a project run by an Afghani, Jurasahb by name, who lived in a community of Turkoman refugees in Attock, about 80 kilometres away.

We contacted Jurasahb and he agreed to meet us. However, on arrival at his home, instead of showing us his production, he invited us to join him for lunch. All I wanted to do was talk about his carpets. I told him about the few pieces we found in the Peshawar Bazaar, and that I regarded them as being amongst the most beautiful carpets I had ever seen. He gave a wee chuckle and said they were his rejects!

How extraordinary. If I was happy to be able to buy what Jurasahb considered rejects, then his export carpets must be amazing.

Jurasahb told us that he had become disappointed with the quality of modern Afghan carpet production in general, and that he wanted to bring back the cultural integrity of the wonderful Turkomans of a hundred years ago. Furthermore, he wanted to go back to a time when the Ersaris, the carpets particular to his clan, were being made in a wide range of designs and in a combination of colours no longer seen today. In his view, these vintage Ersaris were the best Turkomans ever woven.

He went on to say that his own output was rather limited and that all his production, except for the occasional reject, was being sold to just one dealer in the US. Well, I saw this as an opportunity and told him that if he started weaving for me, I believed that I could help him double his production. Jurasahb paused for a moment and then, indicating the remnants of our meal said, “How much food can one man eat?” I was stunned. I was at once both bitterly disappointed and full of admiration, and these two conflicting emotions continued when he refused to show me whatever stock he did have on hand – what was the point of showing me something I couldn’t have?

Over the next year or so, whenever I was in the area, I would call on Jurasahb in the vain hope that he would change his mind, but no, he was content with what he had. I was becoming embarrassed by his repeated refusals and then, just at the point of giving up, he unexpectedly agreed to provide me with whatever carpets he had available and more besides, he would produce for me and give me exclusivity for New Zealand. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I was to finally have Jurasahb’s carpets as part of my collection and we did very well with them for a number of years.

However, when he went back to Afghanistan to live, I lost contact with him and, if what I have heard is correct, then he has retired.

Fortunately, another carpet producer, my friend Haji Bilal, had the same passion for vintage Ersari carpets and, following in the footsteps of the master, he has carried on where Jurasahb left off. Every piece I have from him is as good as the best I was buying from Jurasahb himself all those years ago. Nevertheless, I want to acknowledge that this revival of Ersaris would not have been possible without Jurasahb and, out of respect for this one-man renaissance, we still call these carpets Jurasahb Ersari Turkomans today.