What does it mean to be the fifth generation in an industry? To carry forward a tradition that spans continents and centuries? As I walk through my showroom in Minneapolis, surrounded by antique rugs that whisper stories from distant times and places, I often reflect on the remarkable journey that brought me here.
Legacy is a peculiar thing. It's both a gift and a responsibility. It connects you to something larger than yourself, yet it demands that you bring your own vision, your own interpretation, your own voice to the tradition. This is the dance I perform every day—honoring the past while creating something meaningful for the present.
The Beginning: Persia in the Late 1800s
My family's story begins in Persia, in what is now Iran, during the late 1800s. My great-great-grandfather was a weaver in a small workshop, his days filled with the rhythmic sound of threads being pulled through the warp, his fingers moving with practiced precision. He wasn't wealthy or famous, but he was a master of his craft.
In those days, rug making wasn't just an occupation—it was a language, a form of cultural expression, a way of life. Each region had its own distinctive patterns and colors, passed down through generations of weavers. To make a rug was to participate in a conversation that had been ongoing for thousands of years.
"In every knot, there is a decision. In every decision, there is intention. In every intention, there is the soul of the weaver."
Migration and Adaptation
Each generation of my family has faced its own challenges and opportunities. My great-grandfather expanded the family business beyond weaving into trading, recognizing that connecting artisans with markets was itself a vital art. My grandfather brought our name to Europe, navigating the complexities of international trade during turbulent times.
My father made perhaps the boldest move of all—immigrating to America in the 1970s. I can only imagine the courage it took to leave everything familiar and rebuild in a completely new context. He brought with him not just rugs, but an entire cultural heritage, and he worked tirelessly to help Americans understand and appreciate the artistry of Persian textiles.
My Turn: The Fifth Generation
Growing up in America, straddling two cultures, I had choices my ancestors never had. I could have pursued any career. But I kept returning to the rugs. Something about them spoke to me in a language deeper than words.
When I founded Cyrus Artisan Rugs and later Woven Arts here in Minneapolis, I knew I wanted to do things differently while staying true to the core values of my lineage. I wanted to educate people about the stories behind each piece. I wanted to create direct relationships with weaving communities to ensure fair compensation and ethical practices. I wanted to showcase not just antique treasures but also contemporary textile art that pushes the boundaries of the tradition.
The Weight of Legacy
Being the fifth generation comes with pressure. There are moments when I feel the weight of all those who came before me—the hands that wove, the risks that were taken, the sacrifices that were made. Sometimes I wonder: Am I doing enough? Am I honoring them properly? Am I worthy of this inheritance?
But then I remember what my father told me when I was struggling with these doubts. He said, "A tradition that doesn't evolve is a museum piece. We honor our ancestors not by freezing in time, but by carrying their values forward with creativity and courage."
The Wonder of Legacy
For all its weight, legacy is also a profound gift. I have knowledge that was earned over generations. I have relationships with weaving communities that were built on decades of trust. I have an intuitive understanding of quality and authenticity that comes from a lifetime immersed in this world.
More than that, I have a sense of purpose. When I help a client find the perfect rug, when I restore a damaged piece to its former glory, when I watch someone's face light up as they truly see a rug for the first time—I'm participating in something timeless. I'm a link in a chain that extends both backward into history and forward into an unknown future.
Looking Forward
I don't know if there will be a sixth generation in my family to continue this work. But I do know that every day I choose to show up, to educate, to preserve, to innovate—I'm doing my part to ensure that the art of rug making continues to matter in the modern world.
The rugs in my showroom connect people across time and space. They remind us that beauty and craftsmanship are worth preserving. They tell stories of patience, dedication, and artistic vision. And they whisper to us that some things—like quality, authenticity, and human creativity—are truly timeless.
That's what legacy means to me. It's not about the past holding me captive. It's about the past giving me wings to create something meaningful in the present.