ottoman style: from çintamani to couture

While I was in DC, I managed to steal away and go see the marvelous exhibition Style and Status: Imperial Costumes from Ottoman Turkey, at the Sackler Gallery of the Smithsonian. The stunning examples of Ottoman textiles assembled in this display are mostly royal costumes--kaftans, şalvar trousers, robes, turban-top finials--and are simply among the loveliest objects I've ever seen. They are something of an unitentionally well-kept secret, as the tone of revelation in the exhilarated reviews of the exhibition indicates (for example, three newspaper articles--from the NYT, the Washington Post, and the Post again). I think this is partly an interesting consequence of the fact that the heart of the Ottoman Empire was never really colonized (although İstanbul was occupied by Entente powers for a few years at the end of the First World War)--as a result, most of the great artistic wealth of the Empire--royal clothes and jewelry, architecture and artefacts, imperial minatures and Iznik tileware--remained in Rumelia and Anatolia, and so the greatest collections of these are still to be seen in İstanbul, at Topkapı Palace and the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts-- rather than at the Lourve or the British Museum, the V&A or the Hermitage. As a result, these objects have rarely been seen outside of Turkey. In the last few years, though, there's been a definite increase in international displays of Turkish and Ottoman collections (the stunning show Turks at the Royal Academy last summer was a highlight) partly to further the efforts at cultural exchange that go hand-in-hand with the political side of European integration.

The royal clothing and banners in the Sackler exhibition are pieces of singular beauty; I've seen several of these robes twice, if not three times, before, and was still entranced for the better part of two hours. In addition to the color and complexity of the garments, they're memorable for their unusual and distinctive patterns--the floral motifs so common in Persian and Ottoman art, especially tulips (a symbol of the dynasty) as well as common carnation and vine patterns, and even more striking, though, are the çintamani ("auspicious jewel") designs. Çintamanı are repeated quasi-abstract motifs of medallions (triplicate circles or orbs), tiger stripes (double wavy lines), and a double-crescent. The name çintamani seems to have some sort of roots in Hindusim and/or Buddhism, but in the Ottoman context, however, the "jewel" simply became a stylized design, a visual representation of dynastic status. One of the Washington Post pieces even calls the çintamanı a sort of "logo," such was their immediate recognizability as symbols of the regime. The exhibition has some children's robes as well (circumcision and ceremonial costumes of young princes) and several lovely examples of Christian liturgical garments made by the same workshops to orders from the Orthodox churches. Sadly, they didn't include any of the fascinating talismanic shirts--white cotton hand-painted with calligraphed Qur'anic verses, magical symbols, and auspicious numbers and patterns--worn hidden under the sultan's kaftans.

The online exhibition is pretty good; I'd also recommend the paperback book, which carries gorgeous color photographs of most of the pieces. I was glad to see my favourite robes--a stunning red one with gold-orb çintamani, a multicolored pattern of riotous floral motifs woven into black silk, and a rather sober black-with-red-detail wool kaftan of Mehmet III's), which my contrapuntal friend became quite enamoured of last summer at the Royal Academy. I also made off with a real treat from the exhbition shop. As the articles mention, many Turkish designers (such as Atıl Kutoğlu and Gonul Paksoy) have been drawing inspiration from Ottoman patterns for their fashion collections. The trend isn't limited to haute couture--Keçem/İshve is an İstanbul boutique and line of lovely and expensive felt accessories and housewares using Ottoman designs. I've also seen some very cool T-shirts with çintamani motifts and slogans like "Ottomania" and "The Empire Strikes Back" in shops round Beyoğlu and on the backs of friends. It's part of a much broader trend of renewed interest in and appreciation for Ottoman heritage in Turkey--something that plays out in a number of spherese of popular culture and crosses over into political dynamics as well. But all this aside, my find at the Sackler's shop was a gorgeous close-fitted Kutoğlu t-shirt, cream-colored with crimson triple-orb and tiger-stripe çintamani print. I've been wearing it frequently since, provoking admiring queries from my stylish co-workers, and delighted recognition from the few people I encounter who recognize the "logo" of the Osmanlı sultans.

(On the subject of status, style, and power-dressing, while I was in DC, I also reached a personal milestone--after years of resistance, I finally gave in and bought my first suit. What a tiresome ordeal--I'd much prefer a brightly-patterned kaftan).