Edward Burne-Jones once said that William Morris 'loved everything Persian, including the wild confusion of their chronology.' The combination of Morris's historical interest, his appreciation of the arts of the Islamic world, and his enjoyment of its literature gave him an insight into a world of inspiration. As a consequence, we find elements of these cultural motifs and touchstones in his work – which even today beautify our houses.
Morris's collection of Islamic literature
A library is one of the most perfect representations of a person's mind. It provides a glimpse into the owner's fascinations, curiosities, passions and prejudices. Like many other wealthy Victorians, William Morris had a sizeable library and was an avid reader. Today we may envy the silence and ability to unfailingly focus on a single task, without the overbearing distraction of relentless messages and notifications. But his library was the place where the beloved of English textile arts, William Morris, must have poured over designs, patterns and stories. It was also where he wrote some of his most important lectures and books.
In his library, we know there were books on Middle Eastern history, politics, architecture and travel, including titles such as: The Flowers of Persian Literature (1805) by Samuel Rousseau, a work on the language and most famous authors of Iran; Edward FitzGerald's Salámán and Absái: An Allegory translated from the Persian of Jami (1856); and Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters translated from the Arabic and Persian (1800) by Jonathan Scott.
Also present was an original manuscript from Iran, the Shahnameh ('The Book of Kings'). The Shahnameh was composed by the Iranian poet Ferdowsi (b.940) and was completed in 1010 – it is the national epic of the Iranian people and combines ancient myths with accounts of significant historical events. The Cambridge University Shahnameh Project notes that the epic's 'universal themes had struck a resonant chord in the hearts and minds of unfolding generations. Its stories of the rise and fall of great dynasties, the disputes between kings and heroes, and the conflicts between fathers and sons treat man's struggles against nature, fate and his own conscience.'
Would this have not been a perfect text for a man intrigued by the ancient world, kings and legends, nature, traditions and idealisms – whether they be from Iceland or Iran? Most likely his attraction was due to the text's references to ancient history which covers the fall of the Achaemenid dynasty after the conquest of Iran by Alexander the Great around 330 BC and the collapse of the Sasanian Empire (by the Arab invasions of the seventh century). His writing out of the text was a tribute to Iranian ancient history, in keeping with his adaptations of Norse and Greek epic poetry. It would have also appealed to him as an author of literary works, which consisted of narrative poetry, novels, essays and short tales.
Morris's copy was one of the few believed to have been made in Astarabad in northeastern Iran. The manuscript is now at The Fitzwilliam Museum and since then it has been discovered that 14 illustrations are missing (removed before it was purchased by Morris) and only 68 remain. The vibrant paintings depict famous episodes from the Shahnameh, including scenes of lavishly decorated tents, banners, palanquins, carpets, canopies, hangings and clothing – all of which must have been of great fascination to Morris.
Morris was also captivated by the text. He had read the Shahnameh in translation and in 1883 wrote in a letter that he was 'getting on' with it but was struggling with the 'jargon' of the French translation, which was done by Julius von Mohl. In his letter, he flippantly suggests to his daughter May that he intended to translate it from the French, for their benefit, but qualifies his interest with an exhausted: 'it seems to me very fine though 'tis undoubtedly long'. As it is, Morris did indeed begin writing out the text, although unfortunately he never finished it.
May Morris remembered parts of the story of the Shahnameh and especially mentions the references to carpet weaving in the text. Indeed, the sections written out by Morris concentrate on episodes relating to the creation of technologies of production by various longstanding legendary kings. She spoke of her affection for the manuscript and the memories of her father's interest in literature: 'My father's delight in stories from the East was as keen as his joy in its art…His stories from the Persian Epic as we gathered round the evening fire are among my remembrances of the home life of those days.'
Morris also owned at least one copy of The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, famously translated by Edward FitzGerald in 1859. Omar Khayyám (b.1048) was a distinguished scholar and poet born in Nishapur, Iran during the Seljuk period. He was a specialist in many subjects, most famously in mathematics. Even though he had been known in Europe since 1583, when this collection of quatrains (rubāʿī) ascribed to Omar Khayyám was translated by FitzGerald, it achieved immense success.
Morris quoted from the poem in his letters and copied no less than four manuscripts of the work in his own hand. One was a work on vellum, which he began in 1871 and finished the following year, now held in the British Library. Morris designed the decoration in the margins of the text and each page was beautifully illuminated. The figures depicted in the decorated borders were designed by William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones and painted by Charles Fairfax Murray. The final page beautifully highlights FitzGerald's final words of the book in Farsi: 'Tamam Shud' (The End).
Again, May Morris sheds more light on her father's work, stating that each flower used in this 'jewel-like' manuscript was identifiable, describing the project as 'a flower-garden turned into a book.' There appears to be no attempt at crafting the illustrations in an 'Oriental' style – indeed the designs are decidedly Morris (Willow Bough and Jasmin come to mind) – but the importance here lies in the fact that Morris felt strongly enough about the work to produce four copies of it. A note by Georgiana Burne-Jones in 1908 asserts Morris executed the work 'to do honour to the poem and its English translator, Edward Fitzgerald, whose name he did not then know.' Despite the great success of FitzGerald's Victorian poem, Morris's admiration of Eastern literature makes this assertion seem unlikely. After all, Morris had said of the Rubáiyát, 'I don't know how much of the charm of this lovely poem is due to Fitzgerald, the translator,' perhaps suggesting that FitzGerald was unfairly celebrated over Khayyám himself.
Morris's own writing replicated the works of Middle Eastern origin he had read. For example, the characters in 'The Man Who Never Laughed Again' reflect those in the Arabian Nights or even Nizami's Haft Peykar. Morris was aware that the Arabian Nights (another book read aloud to his family) was an immensely popular work and that people enjoyed fast-paced 'exotic' stories that were, in essence, mediaeval. Such works were inextricably linked to Britain's position as an imperial power and the Victorian environment in which Orientalist thought processes thrived. For Morris, they reflected his worldview of exotic wonders where stories containing moral messages reflected his own socialist sensibilities.
Beyond the library: the influence of Islamic design
These works were not the only Islamic objects he owned, however. Like many wealthy Victorians in London, Morris acquired Islamic objects for his own home. He also served as a consultant on purchases of artwork from Middle Eastern civilisations for the South Kensington Museum. He served as a member of the Committee of Art Referees from 1884 and was instrumental in the purchase of the great Ardabil Carpet, the central masterpiece of the Jameel Gallery at the V&A today.
Morris's own collection of Islamic art was not necessarily representative of the finest pieces (except for carpets) but is fascinating to us because the objects were of interest to Morris. They may have been study pieces, or they could have inspired designs already festering in his imagination. He was very interested in designs found in carpets, tiles, fabrics and other items from India, Iran and Turkey. Morris's Medway design, for instance, is a wonderful example of how colourways and scrolling vines are reminiscent of many of the Islamic objects he most certainly would have seen and owned (Iznik pottery for instance). And yet, it is so redolent of the musk mallow, water chickweed and violets found on the River Medway: it cleverly combines a myriad of inspirations.
Morris's interest in pattern design was magnified by his in-depth study of history, which was an inevitable consequence of his curiosity for literature combined with artistic activity. In his lectures 'The History of Pattern-Designing' in 1879 and 'Some Hints on Pattern-Designing' in 1884, Morris emphasised the need not to blindly follow history and tradition yet stressed that one must study the history of art in order to serve one's art better. In the former lecture, he specifically mentions the art of Persia, Egypt, Babylon and Assyria.
Morris's designs were first recognised by academics in 1893 as being influenced by Islamic elements. The use of tulips and carnations was labelled as 'Morris-Persian', but at the same time it was acknowledged that although his work alluded to these mediums, they were in no way exact replicas. It wasn't until much later that writers began to speculate further about Morris's textiles, claiming that many of his pieces were inspired by Iranian textiles. Morris's knowledge and love of the rich heritage of Eastern visual traditions is key to fully understanding his inventive and original designs.
Qaisra Khan, curator of Islamic art at the Khalili Collections and co-curator of 'William Morris & Art from the Islamic World' at the William Morris Gallery
This content was funded by the Bridget Riley Art Foundation