Postcard from Gaziantep: The company weaving new life into Ottoman fabric

Inside a factory at an industrial park, on the outskirts of Gaziantep in south-eastern Turkey, beautiful things are being made.

To the clack-clack of old wooden looms, striped fabrics in nutty browns and twinkling cobalt blue are coming to life. In one corner, their brows furrowed in concentration, workers funnel deep scarlet threads around a machine called a levent, preparing them for the loom.

The plant produces fabrics for Kutnia, a Turkish brand founded in the historical city of Gaziantep in 2017. The company is aiming to revive the production of “kutnu”, a fabric whose manufacture dates back to the 16th century, and which was traded across the former Ottoman Empire.

The word “kutnu” comes from the Arabic for “cotton” – “qutn” – a nod to the linguistic threads that weave fabrics and societies across this part of the world.

Facing competition from cheap imports and limitations imposed by the material’s traditional specifications, its production has long been in decline in Gaziantep, despite its central cultural importance.

According to Ottoman Touch, a London-based luxury brand selling items from and inspired by the former empire, kutnu was called “palace cloth” as it was used to make the sultans’ kaftans. There are more than 60 different types, depending on the number of warp yarns and motifs: Mecidiye, Hindiye, Zencirli, Sedefli, Cutari, Mercan, Sedyeli, Osmaniye, Sultan, and Mehtap are just a few.

Kutnia aims to revive kutnu fabric, which is seen in homes and shops as far away as Damascus and Baghdad – a sofa lining here, a striped waistcoat there. The firm, founded by a woman named Julide Konukoglu, started as a project with the local municipality in Gaziantep, before continuing as a private business.

“What she saw during this project was that so many designers tried to use kutnu in their designs, but they couldn't use it, because there were some problems in how it was done by hand – the width of the fabric was too narrow,” Zeynep Alti, Kutnia’s brand communication department director, told The National. “While keeping the DNA of how this fabric is made, we make the fabric wider, so that it is much more possible to make it into garments.”

Worker Hadil Bayel, 60, has been at Kutnia for seven years, and describes how the clacking sound of the wooden looms "is like a song to us," as it rings out against the walls. This production "is continuing our history,” he said.

Forty of the firm’s 100 employees are based in the city, which has been a manufacturing hub for centuries, thanks to its proximity to major trading routes – with the city of Aleppo, 120km away across the border in Syria, and Mediterranean Sea ports in neighbouring Hatay province.

Kutnia is now working with older “masters” who can teach production techniques to a younger generation of workers. They work on 12 handlooms and can produce 2,000 metres of fabric per month.

“Now at the factory we employ one of them who still teaches each step to weave to young generation masters,” Ms Alti said. Each weaver has a coloured tab on his loom to mark it as his own discretion.

Along with a greater width, Kutnia’s design and production teams have also modernised the fabric and designs for the 21st century. The material is now made using a combination of 40 per cent cotton and 60 per cent natural rayon in the warps, a more durable replacement for the traditionally used silk. New product lines incorporate autumn-winter and spring-summer ready-to-wear collections, covetable accessories such as delicate slippers, and upholstery fabrics.

Inspiration for colour palettes and the signature bold stripes is now taken from Gaziantep’s spice markets, overflowing with rich reds, pinks and oranges, and the white and black stone patterns, known as ablaq, that adorn the city’s khans – former market places – mosques and homes. The brand has two shops in Gaziantep, as well as a boutique in the upmarket shopping district of Nisantasi in Istanbul. In the Middle East, Kutnia products are available at Sauce and That Concept Store in Dubai, and Nass Boutique in Kuwait, and in Europe, at shops in Milan, Paris and London.

Customers, who hail from France and Lebanon among other places, can also apply to have custom-produced fabrics and patterns made.

“In the days of the Ottoman Empire, kutnu was sent as a gift to Europeans,” Ms Alti said. “You can even see this fabric in some of Matisse's paintings.” Current customers are mostly “curious travellers”, she added – people who appreciate the time and effort that goes into the production process, and who can afford the costs that entails: a blouse retails at 370 euros, a dress at 475 euros.

The items are high-quality and long-lasting, though. In a warehouse to one side of the factory, past collections line the walls: cornflower blue and white kaftans, bold ikat print jackets, and classic striped pyjamas in sweet shop pink palettes.

“When people are buying, they are really interested in how it is made – that it is still handmade, and it's very laborious. So people who appreciate these things, they buy the most, I would say,” she said.