Against an ivory ground rare for a kilim, a tree of life woven in blue-grey climbs from bottom to top, punctuated by two red hooked medallions that seem to mark the seasons of a single life. Woven in Deddik some 60 years ago, this kilim unfolds its 162 x 114 cm (5'4" × 3'9") like a silent prayer, each small lateral branch laden with orange, green and black stripes, dense and rhythmic like a repeated chant.
A broad olive green border, streaked with red and dotted with multicoloured crosses, closes the whole like a firmly tied frame, while the cream ground of the field lets the motif breathe with a clarity that few kilims of this region offer. A piece one rarely comes across, one of those that imposes itself in a room of its own accord.
