Nomades Carpets

Q1

A carpet from the Atlas carries the story of the woman who made it — her symbols, her village, the season she worked in. How do you read that when a new piece arrives?

A distinction needs to be made first between vintage carpets and recent production. Vintage pieces carry more of a story because they were not woven for commercial purposes — they were made for personal or family use. Traditions vary considerably by region. Some are highly structured: the patterns are calculated directly on the loom, without a preparatory drawing. Others allow far more room for spontaneity and abstraction — and it is often that abstraction that gives the Moroccan carpet much of its richness. Humility is required: only the weaver could tell her own story with certainty. We work from clues — technique, construction, motifs, colours, materials, the condition of the edges. The intersection of those clues is where it becomes genuinely interesting: a weaving technique from one region combined with materials from another can suggest movement — a woman who married into a different community, a craft tradition that travelled. The weaver’s ingenuity is also visible in her constraints. When a wool ran out, she used what she had to hand — another fibre, a recovered material. She was not necessarily seeking perfection; she was finishing her piece. And sometimes it is precisely that constraint that produces something unique: a break in material or colour that gives the carpet its own personality. Symbols can often be identified and placed within a known vocabulary. But what fascinates me more is everything that escapes the vocabulary — the irregularities, the unexpected changes, the decisions made directly on the loom. That is where you feel the freedom of the person who made it.

Q2

The difference between a souk carpet and a piece from a serious collection is real but not always visible. What is the actual difference, and how does a first-time buyer begin to learn to see it?

A carpet bought in a souk is not necessarily of lesser quality — remarkable pieces can be found there. The difficulty, for someone discovering Moroccan carpets for the first time, is that the offer is enormous and very uneven. Without experience, the difference is not always easy to see. That is where our work lies. For generations, our family has specialised in the Moroccan carpet — vintage, traditional, modern and contemporary. Our role is not to gather many carpets under one roof, but to select each piece individually. Every carpet that enters our collection is purchased outright — not on consignment — and passes through my father’s eye: the quality of the wool, the weave, the provenance, the colours, the condition, the character. This way of working also builds a particular relationship with artisans. Their work is bought at its true value and paid immediately. Over time, that trust gives us access to exceptional pieces, sometimes before they reach the wider market. There is no shortcut to learning to recognise quality: you have to see many carpets, touch them, turn them over, compare them. The eye educates itself. That is also what we offer — behind every piece presented at our atelier, there has already been a first process of research and selection.

Q3

Moroccan carpet traditions are as regionally specific as wine. Which region or tradition produces work that most consistently surprises you, and why?

The region that continues to surprise me is Taznakht — a vast territory in southern Morocco bringing together several tribes with related weaving traditions, including a remarkable tradition of kilim work. We have long maintained a particular relationship with a family from the Imaghlai tribe. Their work stands out for its exceptional technical mastery — in kilim, the fineness of the weave is everything — but above all for a rare artistic freedom. Within a single carpet, you move from large, expressive abstract forms to perfectly controlled geometric constructions, then to almost microscopic details. From the monumental to the minute, from the spontaneous to the highly calculated, without ever losing the coherence of the whole. That combination is uncommon. Our relationship with this family now goes well beyond the commercial. We purchase their entire production — full exclusivity — on the basis of trust and friendship between our families. Preserving a craft tradition requires this kind of long-term relationship. There is also a genuine emulation among the tribes of the region, each proud of its own techniques. We are told that traditionally, some families preferred their daughters to marry within the community specifically to preserve their weaving methods.

Q4

When a carpet leaves Morocco and arrives in a house in London or Paris, what travels with it — and what gets left behind?

A carpet is one of the most meaningful objects a traveller can bring back from Morocco — not simply as a souvenir, but because it carries something essential of the country: a craft, a culture, a region, its materials, a landscape. Morocco’s geographical diversity is reflected directly in its carpets. Depending on the region and way of life, you find very thick pieces suited to cold mountain climates, and elsewhere fine, light weavings. Each carpet carries something of the territory it came from. When the piece is vintage, it carries even more: it has already had a first life in Morocco, woven for a home before travelling, sometimes several decades later, to London or Paris. Our responsibility is to preserve that identity — to clean, inspect, and restore with care, but to preserve rather than transform. What changes during that journey is not the carpet: it is its surroundings. In its new home, its irregularities, its materials, its colours and the hand of the weaver bring something that a mass-produced object cannot replicate — an authenticity, a presence, a character entirely its own. A Moroccan carpet loses nothing by leaving Morocco. It carries a piece of Morocco with it, and simply begins a new chapter.