When Carpets Fly: Doha’s Islamic Treasures Land in Hong Kong
Wonders of Imperial Carpets showcases exquisite carpets and treasures from three Islamic empires, inviting you to take flight through the richness of Islamic art and heritage.
Sense of Wander: ★★★★★
Inside Wonders of Imperial Carpets, currently on view at the Hong Kong Palace Museum.
HONG KONG — Here in Hong Kong, the very idea of “Islamic art” feels distant, almost alien. The term may have be familiar to some, but what it truly encompasses — its breadth, depth, and meaning — remains vague to most. That began to change this summer, when the Hong Kong Palace Museum unveiled the region’s first exhibition dedicated to the subject: Wonders of Imperial Carpets: Masterpieces from the Museum of Islamic Art, Doha.
Having visited the Museum of Islamic Art (MIA) in Doha earlier this year, I approached the exhibition with both anticipation and curiosity — eager to see how Islamic art would be presented here. For many in Hong Kong, the Islamic world still conjures images of flying carpets, Aladdin’s lamp, and the tales of One Thousand and One Nights. The exhibition, with its evocative title, Wonders of Imperial Carpets, fittingly leans into that fascination — using carpets as a gateway to the artistic and cultural heritage of this singular civilisation.
The journey begins with the celebrated Ardabil-Sarre carpet. To those familiar with Islamic art, Ardabil — an ancient city in northwest Iran — is a familiar name. This carpet once adorned the city’s shrine, part of a mosque and mausoleum complex where members of the Safavid royal family were laid to rest.
At first glance, the carpet pulls you in to a world of floral and fauna: lions and tigers attacking stags, fantastic felines inspired by Chinese mythology, and a garden alive with arabesque blossoms, all set against a vivid red ground. Nearby, a diagram explains the knotted-pile technique behind its making — a method with roots in Persia or Armenia, dating back more than 2,300 years. The Ardabil-Sarre alone is said to contain some five million knots. And it is only one of many treasures on view, drawn from three of the most powerful Islamic dynasties: the Safavid (1501–1763), the Mughal (1526-1875), and the Ottoman (1299-1923).
A close-up of the Ardabil-Sarre carpet from the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha reveals its intricate design and craftsmanship, with colour that remain vivid even after centuries.
Imperial Qurans produced during the Safavid dynasty, such as this one commissioned for Shah Sulayman Safavi, reflect similar aesthetic ideals to those found in the carpets of the same period.
The Safavids ruled for 235 years over what is now modern Iran. At their height, they commanded not only the whole of present-day Iran, but also large parts of Iraq, Azerbaijan, Turkey, Afghanistan, Georgia, and beyond. Under Shah Abbas (reigned 1587–1629), the empire’s silk industry alone generated enough wealth to fund military campaigns and grand architectural projects. Safavid carpets, with their refinement and beauty, became coveted luxury across Europe.
Among those on display is the Rothschild carpet, its design anchored by a central medallion with cartouches and pendants — an arrangement developed under the earlier Timurid dynasty (1370–1507) and adapted widely across carpets, textiles, and manuscripts.
Nearby is a Quran produced for Shah Sulayman Safavi (reigned 1666–1694). Its gilded frontispiece mirrors the Rothschild’s design: Quranic verses are framed within a radiant medallion edged with lapis lazuli, unfurling amid tendrils and flowers as intricate as those woven into Safavid carpets.
While carpets play a dominant role, the exhibition is also an eloquent reminder of cultural exchange. The galleries showcase a long, entangled history between China and the Islamic world, dating back to the 7th century. One gallery pairs an 18th-century Chinese carpet with a Safavid textile, their dense floral designs echoing one another across time and geography.
A little-known fact is that China has its own carpet-weaving tradition, with imperial workshops producing them as early as the Yuan dynasty (1271–1368). Knotted-pile carpets — known in Chinese as huihui jianrong tan — were especially prized.
A 17th-century Chinese carpet (bottom) from the Palace Museum bears a similarity in design to a silk textile (top) woven by Safavid weavers in the early 18th century.
Cultural exchange between the Islamic empires and China extended far beyond flat surfaces and carpets. One gallery pairs objects side by side — one from the Islamic world, drawn from Doha’s MIA collection, and the other from China, from the Palace Museum. A 12th-century brass candlestick from Khurasan, for instance, rests next to a similar candlestick in blue-and-white porcelain. The latter, produced in the imperial kilns of Jingdezhen under the Yongle emperor (reigned 1403–1424), leaves little doubt about its Islamic inspiration.
In the same spirit, a porcelain jug from the Xuande period (1426–1435) — when Islamic influences in Chinese ceramics reached their height — is displayed alongside a 15th-century brass jug of nearly identical shape from Central Asia, once used by the elites of the Timurid court.
Ceramics from China’s imperial kilns were often shaped by Islamic prototypes, yet the exchange was reciprocal. The cobalt blue so essential to Chinese porcelain — the signature hue of blue-and-white ware — came from Kashan in Iran. Since the Tang dynasty (618–907), this rare mineral had enabled Chinese potters to craft porcelain that became the pinnacle of global luxury, coveted in courts across Europe centuries later.
The flow of ideas was never one-way. After reclaiming the Persian Gulf in 1622, the Safavids invited hundreds of Chinese potters to Isfahan, whose expertise enriched Persian ceramic production and fueled economic growth. Shah Abbas himself donated nearly a thousand pieces of Chinese porcelain to the shrine at Ardabil.
Though the history of these exchanges are well established, I must admit that this is the first time I have seen so many examples displayed side by side. The inclusion of treasures from the Palace Museum in Beijing, in my view, makes the exhibition remarkable.
A 12th-century brass jug (right) from Central Asia is displayed alongside a 15th-century Chinese porcelain jug (left) of similar design, highlighting the cultural exchange between the two regions.
A mid-13th-century brass basin from Syria, originally inlaid with gold and silver, is adorned with intricate designs of the twelve zodiac signs, arabesques, and Arabic calligraphy.
Although produced in the imperial kiln of Jingdezhen, this porcelain basin clearly draws its inspiration from the Islamic metalwork of the Mamluk period (1250–1517).
Contemporary with the Safavids, the Mughal dynasty unified nearly the entire Indian subcontinent for over three centuries. Its founder, Babur, traced his maternal lineage to Genghis Khan and his paternal line to Timur.
The empire flourished under his descendants — Akbar (reigned 1556–1605), Jahangir (1605–1627), and Shah Jahan (1628–1658). Coincidentally, the material culture of these emperors can be admired just one floor below in the concurrent exhibition, Treasures of the Mughal Court from the Victoria and Albert Museum, and for those who are not in town, through my article Wander in India: In the Footsteps of the Mughals.
During my postgraduate studies in Islamic art, the Mughal empire always stood out to me for its exquisite jewels, crafted with a vocabulary of design, material, and artistry of its own. In the gallery dedicated to the Mughals, visitors encounter a selection of these jeweled treasures, among them a sarpech — a turban ornament — glittering with diamonds, emeralds, and spinels. Even the reverse side commands attention: every inch of gold is enamelled with delicate floral motifs.
What truly fascinates me, however, is a bowl, poised gracefully on a wooden stand, carved from a single piece of nephrite jade. Its walls are remarkably thin and translucent, lobed like blooming petals, while gently curved acanthus-leaf handles complete its elegance. This bowl, without a doubt, embodies the Mughal aesthetic.
It is easy to imagine how Qing emperor Qianlong (reigned 1736–1795), one of China’s greatest collectors, was so enthralled by Mughal jades that he inscribed a poem of admiration on the inner surface of this very bowl.
This turban ornament (sarpech) exemplifies the mastery of Mughal artisans in goldsmithing, gemstone cutting, and enamel work.
Emperor Qianlong expressed his admiration for this Mughal jade bowl by composing a poem, inscribed on its wall and signed in 1776.
Imperial carpets from the Mughal dynasty also reveal exceptional craftsmanship and artistry. On display, flowers such as peonies, lilies, and other plants are woven into intricate lattice patterns, or millefleurs (thousand-flower), offering a peek into the carpets that adorned both ceremonial halls and private chambers of the Mughal court.
Some of the finest knotted-pile Mughal carpets were crafted from pashmina wool, sourced from the Himalayan mountain goats. Notably, the imperial workshops thrived with the expertise of migrant weavers from Iran, whose skills enriched the production.
Though not a carpet enthusiast, I find myself mesmerised by a mid-18th-century silk carpet from the Deccan region. At its centre stands a tree, its branches and leaves cascading like a weeping willow. In the foreground, a pair of horses stand poised amid a world alive with flora and fauna. One can almost hear the chirping of birds, the babble of the stream, and the quacking of ducks among the freely roaming goats, dogs, and monkeys.
This silk carpet referred to as “Tree of Life Carpet” from the Deccan is a world in miniature, inhabited by flora and fauna.
The final section of the exhibition turns to the material culture of the Ottoman dynasty, an empire that, at its height, spanned one of the largest territories in world history.
Ottoman imperial workshops produced exquisite textiles — brocades, satins, velvets — alongside finely woven carpets. These carpets, often used to adorn palaces, mosques, and mansions, bear traces of Iranian influence, as seen in the medallion carpets of Ushak in western Anatolia.
The gallery dedicated to the Ottoman period displays only two carpets. One, originating from the Shirvan region (present-day Azerbaijan), presents a rather abstract interpretation of the dragon motif, drawn from Chinese art.
Yet what intrigues me more is a folio of ink drawings depicting a dramatic encounter between a dragon and a phoenix, rendered in the “saz style” pioneered by Sah Quli, a 16th-century artist from Tabriz. Alongside other Iranian artists, potters, and weavers, he migrated to Istanbul after the Ottomans’ victory over the Safavids in 1514.
Here, the two mythical creatures, unmistakably of Chinese origin, twist and coil among the sinuous swirls of saz leaves, illustrating how local artists absorbed foreign motifs and created something of their own.
This carpet from the Shirvan region presents a more stylised, almost geometric, interpretation of the Chinese dragon motif.
A 16th-century folio depicting mythical creatures in combat among saz leaves.
This rare glass bowl, made during the reign of the Qing Emperor Qianlong, is adorned with Arabic calligraphy that reads: “The Prophet, peace be upon him, said: There is no god but God.”
Besides mythical creatures, cloud motifs, lotus, and peony designs were also favoured by the Ottoman elite, appearing across carpets and ceramic tiles. Visitors will also see Chinese porcelains that once served as tableware in the Topkapi Palace.
The exhibition concludes with a digital reproduction of The Damascus Room, a reception room from Damascus, Syria, dated 1817. The original, a highlight of the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha, offers a window into the opulence of Ottoman life, reflecting the empire’s cultural richness shaped by its vast geography and far-reaching trade networks.
As you leave the galleries, the Carpet Workshop invites you to explore further: feel the textures of carpets woven using different techniques — some coarse, some smooth — and create your own carpet design inspired by the Islamic artistic repertoire, to be displayed alongside real carpets!
A digital simulation of the Damascus Room — one of the highlights of Doha’s Museum of Islamic Art — concludes the Wonders of Imperial Carpets exhibition.
Visitors can recreate their own carpet through interactive media (the one I created is shown on the right) and display them on the screen!
Wonders of Imperial Carpets: Masterpieces from the Museum of Islamic Art, Doha runs until October 6, 2025.