The rugs of war

The Rugs of War exhibition is surprisingly unsettling, though it’s hard to say why. Rugs, woven by Afghan refugees and natives, embody a history of astonishing violence. But far from being real, this violence is stylised and symbolic. It hangs on the walls, two-dimensional Kalashnikovs and Blackhawks trickling through the colour wheel like rain. And yet, when you look at these images someth
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The Rugs of War exhibition is surprisingly unsettling, though it’s hard to say why. Rugs, woven by Afghan refugees and natives, embody a history of astonishing violence. But far from being real, this violence is stylised and symbolic. It hangs on the walls, two-dimensional Kalashnikovs and Blackhawks trickling through the colour wheel like rain. And yet, when you look at these images something extends into you. The rugs, though rooted to the material, transcend it, and gazing into them feels perilous. There is something sensitive here, and for the Westerner, a distinct feeling that – somehow – the rugs are looking back.

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Patrick Garson
About the Author
Patrick Garson is has been involved in the Canberra arts scene since 1999. He is a contributing editor to Artlook Magazine, a film critic for ABC radio and contributor to Senses of Cinema. Involved in broadcast and writing on and off the web, he enjoys exploring cultural theory and identity politics.