Latest news with #Qajar
CairoScene
06-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
How Mix & Match's SS25 Collection Is Reclaiming Local Textiles
How Mix & Match's SS25 Collection Is Reclaiming Local Textiles Once a staple of Egypt's high street, the homegrown label returns with a sharpened vision: no synthetics, no imports, and no compromises. In 1985, before fashion brands were talking about 'local,' Mix & Match opened its first shop in Cairo. The formula was straightforward: bold cotton prints, forgiving silhouettes, and fabrics made for Egypt's heat. Co-founded by Shahira Fahmy, her mother, and a close friend, the label quickly became a fixture on the high street - practical, accessible, and unmistakably Egyptian. Then the 2000s hit. Local textile production faltered, synthetic imports flooded the market, and the brand shrank from 22 stores to six. Fahmy turned to architecture. The clothes lost their edge. What started as a textile-first project became entangled in globalised supply chains. That's when her mother gave her the green light to take the reins - with no conditions, only a question: what would it take to make Mix & Match matter again? Ten years later, the answer is clear. The SS25 collection opens with a reassertion of control. Fabrics are now woven, cut, and sewn in 6th October City by a team Fahmy describes as 'intergenerational' — some of whom have been on the factory floor since the '80s. The brand has eliminated synthetics. Every offcut is reused. A printing error becomes a belt. A misaligned motif becomes a shoulder panel. Waste is absorbed back into the process. This season, the reference point is the Qajar dynasty - 19th-century Persia at its most excessive. Fahmy became fascinated with its visual codes: layered florals, ornamental stripes, metallic turbans. 'It wasn't decoration for the sake of it,' she says. 'It was political, performative, and precise.' Working with co-designer Rola Hussein, Fahmy channelled that sensibility into a lean collection with deliberate impact. Linen dresses with architectural volume. Cropped jackets cut in dense cotton. A standout blouse printed with the ceiling pattern of a Qajar palace - symmetrical at first glance, chaotic in the details. Colour is central: pistachio, saffron, pomegranate, sage - shades pulled from antique textiles and reworked onto breathable, locally sourced cloth from the Nile Delta. The collection is designed to flex. Pieces layer across months and body types. A cotton shift dress folds into autumn with a long coat. Linen trousers reappear under winter kaftans. Sizing is uncoupled from conventional charts. 'Top and bottom don't need to match,' Fahmy says. 'They need to work.' SS25 made its debut on May 5 at Takiya Al-Mawlawiyah, a 19th-century Ottoman landmark in Cairo with ties to the Qajar presence in Egypt. Instead of a soundtrack, the show unfolded to live instrumentation - Egyptian darbuka colliding with Persian strings. The setup, she says, is part of the point: 'When you choreograph the setting as carefully as the collection, the story holds.' The show has another function. Every ticket sold funds ambulances and medical aid via the Egyptian Red Crescent for Gaza. Fahmy insists that the gesture isn't symbolic. 'The clothes are about care - care for the body, care for process. The show should carry that through.' Mix & Match's revival has started to stick. Mothers who wore the brand in the '90s are bringing their daughters to fittings. Fahmy's own son, once sceptical, now turns up in full linen. The brand's language has changed - leaner, quieter, but no less specific. The Qajar references act as a reminder: that visual identity can carry weight, that a fabric archive can double as a political one, and that local production doesn't need to look inward to stay grounded.
Yahoo
10-03-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Archaeologists Dug Under 5 Historic Homes in the Desert—and Found an Underground City
Archaeologists discovered an ancient underground city beneath Abarkuh, Iran, where residents in Iran escaped above-ground heat. In the subterranean settlement, they found an aqueduct to transport water throughout the ancient city and gathering places for its residents. Experts believe this find could be just one of many under the historic city of Abarkuh. When life got a little too warm in the desert climate of ancient Iran, some residents of an ancient city had a backup plan: going underground, literally. In a new find under five historic homes in the Iranian city of Abarkuh, archaeologists discovered an underground settlement where, beneath the city's foundation, there were large halls and alcoves and a stone aqueduct system to transport water through the settlement. 'The spaces between these stone beds were turned into gardens by the ancients, and they had paths under these stone sections for ease of access, security, water transportation, and their lives,' Hossein Hatami, Abarkhu governor, said in a translated exclusive interview given to Islamic Republic News Agency. Hatami said that when the ancient people of Abarkuh dug water transfer tunnels, known as a qanat, they added stairs connecting the houses along the route to the tunnels. The links to the tunnels allowed residents to control the water management for the larger good of the community and for personal needs. With the passage of water located under the city's stone bed, the area provided a 'cool and peaceful atmosphere,' Hatami said, during the hot seasons. This respite appears to have contributed to the gradual creation of larger halls and areas around the flowing water, which he said were added to the underground complex for use as a resting place. That same system may have provided security when a different kind of heat got turned up: enemy invasions. 'It is said that another use of this underground complex was a hiding place or shelter,' Hatami said, 'in times of war or [foreign] attack.' Archaeologists discovered the underground canals across about 150 acres, but there could be plenty more across the area, Hatami said. Some of them, though, will never be located because after some aqueducts dried up, construction projects in the city replaced the water-carrying tunnels with sewage repositories. The Abarkuh system, within what is considered the ancient golden triangle of centuries-old settlements of Shiraz, Yzad, and Isfahan, was likely created by the Qajar people, a Turkmen tribe from modern-day Azerbaijan that grew in prominence in the 10th century A.D. and controlled an Iran dynasty in the 18th through 20th centuries. The qanat was a key feature of Qajar construction, and the stones used in the newly found qanats were the same as the ones used in Qajar-era building. 'The qanat tunnels are often quite deep and well-ventilated,' Irina Tsukerman, a geopolitical analyst, told All That's Interesting, 'ensuring that the water remained cool as it traveled through the underground channels.' Hatami said there's a possibility of more examples of the underground complex in other neighborhoods and potentially throughout the entire historical areas of Abarkuh. You Might Also Like The Do's and Don'ts of Using Painter's Tape The Best Portable BBQ Grills for Cooking Anywhere Can a Smart Watch Prolong Your Life?
Observer
18-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Observer
Iran's early recordings revive forgotten sound heritage
In a century-old building in Tehran, Saeed Anvarinejad turned the dial of a vintage radio to tune into some of Iran's earliest recorded sounds, some serving as reminders of the seismic changes that shaped the country's history. Along with a team of fellow enthusiasts, he spent months tracking down the earliest recordings of Iranian music, speeches, interviews, theatrical plays, radio broadcasts and even the hum of daily life from more than a century ago up to the present day. "Sound is a phenomenon we pay little attention to... although it's very important," said Anvarinejad, one of the organisers of the "SoundScape" exhibition. And "the era of early sound recording in Iran is a very important time in the socio-political history of the country". He highlighted the emotional power of early voice recordings, saying they captured "in a very raw and pure way... the feeling that people have at that moment," unlike written records. According to Anvarinejad, the oldest surviving sound recordings from Iran date back to 1898 and 1899, during the reign of Mozaffar al-Din Shah of the Qajar dynasty, which reigned over the country from the late 18th to the early 20th century. His rule saw the unfolding of the Constitutional Revolution, a pivotal moment in Iran's political transformation that established a parliament and constitutional monarchy. Iran's early recordings revive forgotten sound heritage "It was a time when... a new order was taking shape in the Iranian mind and very important things were happening politically, socially and culturally," he added. "We thought it would be good to have a new approach to the sound (from that time) and engage audiences with it." Upon tuning the wooden-framed antique radio, a chilling broadcast announced the overthrow of prime minister Mohammad Mosaddegh in 1953, who had pushed for the nationalisation of Iran's oil industry sparking a coup d'etat orchestrated by the United States and Britain. "This is Tehran! Good news! Good news! People of the cities of Iran, be awake and alert, the traitor Mosaddegh has fled!" crackled the voice of a radio anchor. - 'Mysterious void' - Other audio included Iran's first recorded call to prayer in either 1912 or 1913, and the 1959 report on the death of Qamar, the first woman singer to perform in public in the country. One striking installation at the exhibition involved a mechanical device mounted on a concrete wall with gears, chains, wheels and a lever which played old recordings of the stringed tar instrument through retro telephone handsets. Another, "Mowj Negar", featured printed sound waves arranged in three rows on one wall, with a metal device which moved along the waves. Iran's early recordings revive forgotten sound heritage When moved, the device activates melodies from the Qajar and early Pahlavi (1925-1979) eras that once echoed through Iran's grand palaces and bustling city streets. Nearby stood a wooden cabinet named "The Silent Closet", displaying a series of photos from the First World War -- but without a single accompanying sound. "There are no sound recordings from Iran during this period, not because technology was unavailable, but likely because the country was in such turmoil that recording sound was not a priority," said Atabak Axon, another exhibition organiser. "There was a 12-year silence that remains a mysterious void in Iran's auditory history." For centuries, sound has played a central role in Persian culture, connecting belief with poetry and identity. For 21-year-old Sarvin Faizian, visiting the exhibition with friends was a deeply moving experience "as if I was experiencing my parents' past." Similarly, Fatemeh Sadeghi described feeling overwhelmed by nostalgia, while 63-year-old Kamran Asadi found the exhibition unexpectedly personal. "It is a very good and intimate atmosphere for me," he said, lingering on an old song playing in the background. "It is good for the younger generation to learn where Iran's heritage of music and art came from." —AFP
Voice of America
16-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Voice of America
Iran's early recordings revive forgotten sound heritage
In a century-old building in Tehran, Saeed Anvarinejad turned the dial of a vintage radio to tune into some of Iran's earliest recorded sounds, some serving as reminders of the seismic changes that shaped the country's history. Along with a team of fellow enthusiasts, he spent months tracking down the earliest recordings of Iranian music, speeches, interviews, theatrical plays, radio broadcasts and even the hum of daily life from more than a century ago up to the present day. "Sound is a phenomenon we pay little attention to ... although it's very important," said Anvarinejad, one of the organizers of the "SoundScape" exhibition. And "the era of early sound recording in Iran is a very important time in the socio-political history of the country." He highlighted the emotional power of early voice recordings, saying they captured "in a very raw and pure way ... the feeling that people have at that moment," unlike written records. According to Anvarinejad, the oldest surviving sound recordings from Iran date back to 1898 and 1899, during the reign of Mozaffar al-Din Shah of the Qajar dynasty, which reigned over the country from the late 18th to the early 20th century. His rule saw the unfolding of the Constitutional Revolution, a pivotal moment in Iran's political transformation that established a parliament and constitutional monarchy. "It was a time when ... a new order was taking shape in the Iranian mind and very important things were happening politically, socially and culturally," he added. "We thought it would be good to have a new approach to the sound (from that time) and engage audiences with it." Upon tuning the wooden-framed antique radio, a chilling broadcast announced the overthrow of prime minister Mohammad Mosaddegh in 1953, who had pushed for the nationalization of Iran's oil industry sparking a coup d'etat orchestrated by the United States and Britain. "This is Tehran! Good news! Good news! People of the cities of Iran, be awake and alert, the traitor Mosaddegh has fled!" crackled the voice of a radio anchor. 'Mysterious void' Other audio included Iran's first recorded call to prayer in either 1912 or 1913, and the 1959 report on the death of Qamar, the first woman singer to perform in public in the country. One striking installation at the exhibition involved a mechanical device mounted on a concrete wall with gears, chains, wheels and a lever which played old recordings of the stringed tar instrument through retro telephone handsets. Another, Mowj Negar, featured printed sound waves arranged in three rows on one wall, with a metal device which moved along the waves. When moved, the device activates melodies from the Qajar and early Pahlavi (1925-79) eras that once echoed through Iran's grand palaces and bustling city streets. Nearby stood a wooden cabinet named "The Silent Closet," displaying a series of photos from the World War I -— but without a single accompanying sound. "There are no sound recordings from Iran during this period, not because technology was unavailable, but likely because the country was in such turmoil that recording sound was not a priority," said Atabak Axon, another exhibition organizer. "There was a 12-year silence that remains a mysterious void in Iran's auditory history." For centuries, sound has played a central role in Persian culture, connecting belief with poetry and identity. For 21-year-old Sarvin Faizian, visiting the exhibition with friends was a deeply moving experience "as if I was experiencing my parents' past." Similarly, Fatemeh Sadeghi described feeling overwhelmed by nostalgia, while 63-year-old Kamran Asadi found the exhibition unexpectedly personal. "It is a very good and intimate atmosphere for me," he said, lingering on an old song playing in the background. "It is good for the younger generation to learn where Iran's heritage of music and art came from."
Al-Ahram Weekly
14-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Al-Ahram Weekly
Iran's early recordings revive forgotten sound heritage - Screens - Arts & Culture
In a century-old building in Tehran, Saeed Anvarinejad turned the dial of a vintage radio to tune into some of Iran's earliest recorded sounds, some serving as reminders of the seismic changes that shaped the country's history. Along with a team of fellow enthusiasts, he spent months tracking down the earliest recordings of Iranian music, speeches, interviews, theatrical plays, radio broadcasts and even the hum of daily life from more than a century ago up to the present day. "Sound is a phenomenon we pay little attention to... although it's very important," said Anvarinejad, one of the organisers of the "SoundScape" exhibition. And "the era of early sound recording in Iran is a very important time in the socio-political history of the country". He highlighted the emotional power of early voice recordings, saying they captured "in a very raw and pure way... the feeling that people have at that moment," unlike written records. According to Anvarinejad, the oldest surviving sound recordings from Iran date back to 1898 and 1899, during the reign of Mozaffar al-Din Shah of the Qajar dynasty, which reigned over the country from the late 18th to the early 20th century. His rule saw the unfolding of the Constitutional Revolution, a pivotal moment in Iran's political transformation that established a parliament and constitutional monarchy. "It was a time when... a new order was taking shape in the Iranian mind and very important things were happening politically, socially and culturally," he added. "We thought it would be good to have a new approach to the sound (from that time) and engage audiences with it." Upon tuning the wooden-framed antique radio, a chilling broadcast announced the overthrow of prime minister Mohammad Mosaddegh in 1953, who had pushed for the nationalisation of Iran's oil industry sparking a coup d'etat orchestrated by the United States and Britain. "This is Tehran! Good news! Good news! People of the cities of Iran, be awake and alert, the traitor Mosaddegh has fled!" crackled the voice of a radio anchor. - 'Mysterious void' - Other audio included Iran's first recorded call to prayer in either 1912 or 1913, and the 1959 report on the death of Qamar, the first woman singer to perform in public in the country. One striking installation at the exhibition involved a mechanical device mounted on a concrete wall with gears, chains, wheels and a lever which played old recordings of the stringed tar instrument through retro telephone handsets. Another, "Mowj Negar", featured printed sound waves arranged in three rows on one wall, with a metal device which moved along the waves. When moved, the device activates melodies from the Qajar and early Pahlavi (1925-1979) eras that once echoed through Iran's grand palaces and bustling city streets. Nearby stood a wooden cabinet named "The Silent Closet", displaying a series of photos from the First World War -- but without a single accompanying sound. "There are no sound recordings from Iran during this period, not because technology was unavailable, but likely because the country was in such turmoil that recording sound was not a priority," said Atabak Axon, another exhibition organiser. "There was a 12-year silence that remains a mysterious void in Iran's auditory history." For centuries, sound has played a central role in Persian culture, connecting belief with poetry and identity. For 21-year-old Sarvin Faizian, visiting the exhibition with friends was a deeply moving experience "as if I was experiencing my parents' past." Similarly, Fatemeh Sadeghi described feeling overwhelmed by nostalgia, while 63-year-old Kamran Asadi found the exhibition unexpectedly personal. "It is a very good and intimate atmosphere for me," he said, lingering on an old song playing in the background. "It is good for the younger generation to learn where Iran's heritage of music and art came from." Short link:
