Kush, the Portland-based rug
company, offers handmade oriental rugs sources from around the world, as well
as custom designs, sizes, and weaves to fit any space or style. In the
following Q&A co-owner Rebecca Lurie tells us about erosion rugs, woven to feature
abstract designs, and silk sari rugs—floor coverings made from recycled saris.
What is an erosion rug?
The trend
started in Nepal around 10 years ago, with Tibetan weavers working with Western
designers to create abstract, raw-looking rugs with painterly expertise. Time
and competition pushed the designs into more-sophisticated interpretations of
this erosion concept. Traditional, tight patterns with entire sections erased—in
etched lines, as if acid had dripped down the rug. We have a broad and growing
collection of our own at Kush. We carry designs ranging from an abstract
portrait of rust dripping down a cement wall to multitextured, formless
contrasts in steel gray and lime green.
When I came to your showroom earlier this
year, you also showed me beautiful sari silk rugs. Can you tell us how you
discovered those?
In India,
several years ago, I was knocked off my feet by the recycled sari silk rugs.
Using remnant, re-spun silk from the mill ends of sari looms, skilled Indian
weavers had managed to create brilliant rugs in interpreted designs ranging
from Uzbek Ikats—those wonderfully tribal, narrow fabrics of Central Asia—to
antique Agras with their formal and feminine abundance of florals, arabesques,
and distinctively Indian design complexity.
Can you
describe the Sari silk rugs for people who haven’t seen them before?
Sari silk is very inconsistent and varied; the yarns often carry with them the wild residual colors of the saris they would have been. These tones, offset by the high sheen and the often very subtle patterns create a stunning, unbelievably soft, indescribably abstract rug. Viewed from one end, they are a vivid explosion of color that I’ve never seen outside of India; viewed from the other, they are a wash of indeterminate pattern—a seemingly ancient design that you must work to see, putting together the patterns in your mind and filling in the blanks where the motifs are practically invisible.
Where do the designers at Kush get its
inspiration for creating unique rug designs?
Inspiration
is everywhere; the work is to recognize it. For instance, one night many years ago, I was
driving across the 405 bridge toward northeast Portland when I noticed for the
first time ... the white-painted columns supporting the highway’s upper deck.
They had begun to peel, revealing cold, gray concrete underneath: patchy,
industrial blotches spaced beautifully in white with a balance only time can
create. I desperately wished I could pull over somewhere; to pause for a moment
to take a picture, and turn that picture into a rug. It would be a beautiful
erosion rug, I thought. And I continue to think it, every time I drive across
that bridge.
Can you
address the intersection between new rugs and repurposed rugs? Why do you think
people are attracted to repurposed rugs?
They say
necessity breeds invention, and in the world of rugs this theory has been
instrumental over the last decade. A shortage of weavers, the dizzying rise in
material costs, and a glut of out-of-fashion, but well-made, old rugs all
contribute to the rise of the repurposed, reimagined rug. These are economical,
capitalistic reactions to the modern world and businesses far and wide have
responded with aplomb. What’s fascinating to me is the way the most successful
repurposed rug collections are made to not obscure their former incarnations,
but rather underline the forgotten glory. The old, the sense of history, is
accentuated and made irresistible.
I believe
that as we are propelled ever faster forward into a digital age, we are more
urgently drawn by a need to be connected to our earth and our human past. We
yearn for significance, timelessness and history because all around us
everything seems so finite, and so fast. We’re all looking for a human
connection in a digital world. Handmade rugs are the ideal conduit—inherently
linked to history by the strands of culture and craft while they grace our
modern homes.
Gold silk sari rug, hand knotted in India.
Manhattan 8' X 10' hand knotted Himalayan wool, silk, and nettle.
Metallic silver sari silk rug with oxidized wool design. Hand knotted in India.
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