April 16th, 2017
Polo in Isfahan used to be a big thing. The maydan at the centre of today’s city was originally an out-of-town garden. Then when Shah Abbas visited in 1590, he ordered it levelled and spread with river sand, to convert it into a polo field.
In 1595, a French steward called Pinçon saw how: “The King of Persia and his nobles take exercise by playing pall-mall on horseback, which is a game of great difficulty: their horses are so well trained at this that they run after the balls like cats.”
Manwaring gave more details: “There were twelve horsemen in all with the King; so they divided themselves six on the one side, and six on the other, having in their hands long rods of wood [with] on the end of the rods a piece of wood nailed on like unto a hammer.”
You can see something very similar before a modern game of polo in Isfahan, here below:
With a wooden ball, and goals at either end, the sport was “in the fashion of our football play here in England.” With one small difference, though, when the Shah had the ball “the drums and trumpets would play one alarum.”
I’ve included a photo of the goals which remain in the modern maydan.
Shah Abbas was a keen horseman. Cartwright, visiting in 1601, wrote of how the Shah started most days by visiting his horses in their stables. Then he viewed his Armoury, where “there are made very strong Curiasses, or Corselets, headpeeces and targets, most of them able to keep out the shot of an arquebuiser . .” [click here to see a replica 1602 arquebuisier in action] ”.
By around three o clock in the afternoon, the Shah “makes his entry into the At-Maidan, which is the greatest marketplace or high street of Hifpaan [Isfahan]”. Before 1602, the maydan had only a wall surrounding it, although there were “certain high scaffolds where the multitude do sit to behold the warlike exercises performed by the King and his courtiers”. All of these were performed on horseback, including: “running and leaping” as well as “shooting with bows and arrows, at a mark both above and beneath”. Cartwright was fascinated by the polo in Isfahan, which he described as “their playing at tennis.”
Here’s a photo of a modern game of polo in full flow in the maydan:
April 10th, 2017
Just in case you thought Iranian women weren’t stylish, as well as gorgeous … here are some images of the high fashion you can see in Iran, especially in luxurious North Tehran. Even if, sometimes, not everyone wants their face included in the images. Read the rest of this entry »
March 30th, 2017
As a foreign woman in Iran, the most common question I’m asked is: “What do you think about hijab?”
I can often work out what answer I’m expected to give, simply by looking at whoever is asking. Some obviously pious women, usually without a single strand of hair showing, want to tell me how they have been liberated by hijab.
March 8th, 2017
January 13th, 2016
On the way into Natanz from Isfahan, don’t miss the Gonbad-i Bāz – the unique Safavid hawking pavilion built by Shah Abbas the First as “the greatest tribute ever paid to a single bird”. This unusual survival of a non-religious Safavid building is an octagonal domed tower perched on a conical mountain near Natanz.
I love how it can be seen from all around. I love even more the stories that are told about why it was built.
Although Kleiss suggests that it is a royal pavilion for hunting the “numerous deer” in the area; most other writers, and all the many locals I have spoken to, say that it commemorates a very special hunting bird.
According to Encyclopaedia Iranica, in 1592-3 Shah Abbas the Great ordered a mausoleum built for his favourite hunting bird, the valiant and gallant Lavand. This bāz – the word denotes both hawks and falcons – died during a hunting party near Natanz. To “the great affliction of the shah”, who would have been only 21 years old, the bird drowned whilst “tenaciously chasing a partridge inside a deep well”. A slightly earlier painting in the Metropolitan Museum gives an idea of what this hunting party might have looked like.
The local version of the story is slightly different. It still concerns Abbas hunting near Natanz, a courageous bird, and a well. But in this account, just as Abbas went to drink, the “King’s darling” inexplicably struck his cup from his hand. When Abbas tried again, the bird attacked again. On the Shah’s third attempt, and the bird’s third strike, Abbas ordered the bird killed. As the Shah returned to the water to drink unmolested, the Shah, or perhaps one of his falconers, noticed a snake slithering away. The sharp-eyed bird had saved the Shah’s life, but paid the ultimate price for his faithfulness!
According to the Natanzi’s, it was actually then the mayor of Natanz who had the gonbad – the dome – built.
Many pavilions were built in the Safavid era, but very few have survived. This one is constructed in relatively permanent building materials and in a relatively inaccessible place. There is a path – which I only found out about after I failed to climb up without one!
January 13th, 2016
Many travellers stop at Natanz to see the gorgeous Ilkhanid (early 14th century) façade. It’s only an hour or so from Isfahan, on the way to Kashan.
But when I first went there, I was excited to see the ancient plane trees at the front of the Shrine. These have been suggested to have protected the façade from the sun and wind, even if an old photo (at least partially) refutes this idea.
Stories tell of the “monstrous” plane tree “under which from time immemorial have lodged all the caravans which came from Shiraz or Isfahan to Qazvin and Tabriz”. Even at midday, with the sun right overhead, the huge branches of this plane tree apparently shaded an area of more than thirty paces size. The Spanish Ambassador, García de Silva y Figueroa, described seeing a caravan of 200 camels, horses and other beasts of burden easily accommodated in the tree’s shadow when he travelled up to Qazvin to meet Shah Abbas the Great in 1618.
And Shah Abbas himself stayed by or under the plane tree when he walked from Isfahan to Mashhad in 1601.
Since oriental plane trees can live 2000 years, it’s theoretically possible that it’s the same tree. But I soon worked out that the tree in front of the shrine is NOT the one in the stories.
First, the people from Natanz say that the town traditionally stretched “az chenar ta menar” – from the plane tree to the minaret (of the Shrine). The chenar they are talking about can’t be just outside the sShrine!
Also, Figueroa described the plane tree he saw as being 200 paces from the Shrine.
Instead, the local Cultural Service staff showed me another – once enormous – stump now with just a few struggling leaves. This is shown on a satellite map of the town. The stump is very nearby the modern market – which fits with the idea that supplies were sold to travellers beside the monstrous tree.
But the tree at the front of the shrine does give an idea of the enormous tree in Natanz that the Safavid travellers admired so much.
January 13th, 2016
I just saw the V&A Fabric of India exhibition. It’s great: gorgeous colours, lots of short videos about how things are made … and several pieces that irresistibly reminded me of Persian textiles. You’ve just got time to go see for yourself – it ends 10 Jan
There was a lovely handpainted floor spread from the Coromandel coast.
Even if Persian textiles don’t have flowery grounds quite like the one here, it includes sportsmen and drinkers who look really quite Persian to me.
The image below is a turned-round version of a detail from the top border. Look at their hats, look at the clothes!
Or do you think I’m wrong? Maybe the faces are more Indian than Persian?
A mid-17th century, Deccan silk and velvet hanging from LACMA has a very similar feeling compared to the late 16th / early 17th century, Iranian silk velvet on permanent display in the V&A. Even if the figures shown in the Deccan textile are women, while the Persian textile shows men!
Was this some sort of standard? Or is it possible that the Indian weavers saw something like the Persian textiles? And decided to try something similar?
And look at this early chintz (below) – with two men and two youths dressed a la Persane – even if they have disconcertingly blue eyes. It includes two European men – who are said to be “probably Dutch” – a striped dog, and two women in Indian-Western dress; plus glass dishes and vessels in Venetian, European, Chinese and Indo-Persian styles; all set in some sort of Indian palace.
It’s all very similar to motifs in Persian book paintings, if not in quite so many Persian textiles. It’s another reminder of the spread of the Persianate world!
January 13th, 2016
Many travellers stop at Natanz on their way from Isfahan to Kashan. Of course, when you hear the word ‘Natanz’, most people think only of the Iranian nuclear enrichment controversy. But Natanz is also my most favourite small town in Iran, with some very special historic monuments. Please don’t miss seeing: the shrine; the monstrous plane trees; the Ilkanid mosque; the caravanserai; and the royal hawk pavilion.
First though, maybe you want a few words about the nuclear facilities in Natanz. These are the primary site for Iran’s gas centrifuge program. There are two primary facilities: the Pilot Fuel Enrichment Plant (PFEP) and the Fuel Enrichment Plant (FEP).
The Comprehensive Nuclear Agreement was signed by the P5+1 and Iranian negotiators on 2 April 2015. Under this, then for the next ten years the facility in Natanz will be the only place in Iran where uranium enrichment will take place. There will only be 5,060 of the less advanced, IR-1 first generation centrifuges. Iran’s more advanced centrifuge models (IR-2, IR-4, IR-5, IR-6, and IR-8) will be placed under IAEA care for the duration of the agreement.
The agreement provides for “continuous monitoring” of the Natanz as well as Fordow facilities. Inspectors supposedly will have unfettered access to these facilities whenever necessary.
Much has been said about the Iranian nuclear programme, but I think that the video here is pretty well balanced (unlike much Western media coverage!). It certainly presents the historical perspective better than most reports. It has some really interesting points – including details of the pre-Revolutionary nuclear agreements. I didn’t previously know that Iran currently owns 10% of FRENCH. I was surprised to see Tony Benn in the video. He’s here in his guise as Energy Minister at the time of the last Shah. But he also underlines Iran’s absolute right to a civil nuclear programme, as part of the discussion of how the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty has been applied to Iran.
The Natanz facility is specifically mentioned in the video – and shown at 35.40 as clearly visible from the road. This contradicts the reports of its absolute secrecy.
While there is some discussion of the need for a balanced and long-term energy policy in Iran then, sadly, there’s no mention anywhere of the potential of cheap solar power in Iran. Solar would be even easier in sunny Iran than elsewhere in the world!
<iframe width=”560″ height=”315″ src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/uCvygCYVUFo” frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen></iframe>
But please remember that Natanz is not only about nuclear facilities!
Click to read more about: the shrine; the monstrous plane trees; the Ilkanid mosque; the caravanserai; and the royal hawk pavilion.
January 13th, 2016
Many travellers stop at Natanz to see the gorgeous Ilkhanid (early 14th century) façade. It’s one of the most spectacular sights in Iranian architecture, and it’s only an hour or so from Isfahan, on the way to Kashan. With its blend of glazed tile, stucco, and terra cotta it’s been described as a 3-D version of the best of Persian miniature paintings.
But the shrine in Natanz isn’t just about the sumptuous facade. The complex developed as a grave-tomb-shrine after a shaykh in the Suharwardi Sufi order, ‘Abd al-Samad, died in Natanz in 1299. It is now recognised as one of the best preserved shrine complexes from the Ilkhanid era (1256–1353).
As well as the tomb of ‘Abd al-Samad, there’s a four-iwan mosque, an octagonal sanctuary, a minaret, and a mosque from the 1930’s. To fit in the available space, these are squashed together, built at different floor levels, and sometimes overlapping. Because of that, and the fact that the complex was built (and rebuilt) over many centuries, it can sometimes be difficult to work out what you are seeing. This post aims to help with that.
It’s useful to start by looking at the façade west to east (left to right as you face it):
The western portal is what remains of an early fourteenth century khanqah – somewhere for Sufi travellers or students who wanted to stay at ‘Abd al-Samad’s shrine. This khanqah was destroyed and replaced by a mosque in the 1930s.
Behind the central arch of the Natanz façade there is a 37-metre minaret with an inscription dated AH725/1324-25AD. This was substantially restored in the 1970s
At the eastern end of the façade, there’s another portal, which acts as an entrance into the complex through a sunken narrow corridor. An inscription there says that the building is a mosque built by Zayn al-Din Mastari in AH704/1304-5AD.
As you walk down into and through the sunken corridor, you’ll come to a doorway into the tomb chamber. This has a glorious muqarnas ceiling – and the much less glorious remnants of a – now looted – tiled mihrab and walls. I’ve written more about this little room here.
When you go on, you will come into a square courtyard mosque with two storeys of rooms, linking four iwans. There are muqarnas in the north and south iwans. Linked to the south iwan is an octagonal sanctuary.
The restoration in the 1970s revealed that this sanctuary was originally a freestanding pavilion. It is much earlier than the courtyard mosque – as it is dated AH389/999AD. It may not look anywhere near as lovely as the facade, but it is the earliest dated example of an octagonal form in Iran. It was built open with columns, like the early tomb towers. Buyid tombs didn’t actually need to have a body buried within them – there are fascinating accounts of bodies being placed in glass coffins, suspended from the ceiling. The body of someone called Qabus was hung in a location where the early morning light struck it. In Natanz, like in other important Shia shrines, the pavilion was built to be walked around (the technical term is circumambulation). At Mecca, the qa’aba is walked around counterclockwise (seven times). At Natanz, pilgrims would have walked in the opposite direction: clockwise. The renowned art historian, Sheila Blair, has suggested that the pavilion was originally built as an imamzada or shrine for a descendant of the Prophet.
This is surely why the site is so jumbled – the early fourteenth century development followed on from an open, octagonal pavilion built three hundred years earlier.
January 10th, 2016
We know relatively little about the life of Safavid women, but we do know something about the elegant Jahan Nama Palace. This Palace was designed for the royal women of Shah Abbas the Great.
It’s name translates as “Reflection of the World”. Although they would have been hidden behind finely wrought, trellised windows, the Safavid women were able to look out on all the sauntering and social preening going on along the Chahar Bagh promenade.
We know the Palace’s location – it’s shown on Engelbert Kaempfer’s famous Planographic (it’s the cubic building in top right corner). The Jahan Nama is up at the non-river end of the Chahar Bagh promenade. It’s close to the Daulat Gate, one of principal entry points to Isfahan. It’s been described as marking this area with ‘imperial significance’.
But no-one really knows exactly what it was like.
Europeans often produce quite different reports of specific Safavid buildings, and Jahan Nama is no exception.
Pietro della Valle described “una piccolo casa”: a “small building with windows and ayvans all around”.
Chardin reported a three storey ‘pavillon carre’.
While Tavernier described a “pavilion or tabernacle forty feet square, which joins to the hinder part of the Kings House, with a double storey, to which several give light, clos’d with wooden lattices very artificially wrought”.
I’ve included the Jahan Nama here because I think it’s the probably most romantic building in Safavid Isfahan. It’s a good example of us not-quite-knowing, but wanting to peek into the most private buildings, the most intimate lives of Safavid women. The palace was also a key part of Shah Abbas’ urban plan.
Only a few remnants of this plan are still visible. And I think it’s completely appropriate to highlight how little we really know about Shah Abbas’ plan – even though modern Isfahan is often described as Shah Abbas’ masterpiece.
The foundations of Jahan Nama palace were apparently found during the recent construction of a subway. According to the archaeologists who found it, the Zel-ol-Soltan gave orders to destroy it, claiming that the site provided a view of Hasht Behesht Palace, where his sister lived.