The Art of Persia: seeing half the world at Naqsh-e Jahan Square
21.07.2023 - 08:42
/ roughguides.com
/ Art
“The Persians called this square, Naqsh-e Jahan Square, half the world, meaning to see it was to see half the world,” Samira Ahmed explains. The joy of seeing the grand square laid out in front of her speaks stories on her face, a broad grin gradually emerging. She is in Esfahan to tell the fascinating tales of this grand monument for BBC Four’s Art of Persia – an exquisite series looking at the history and culture of the alluring land of Iran, once known as Persia. I may be sat in my London flat right now in a looming lockdown, but I once saw half the world.
One of my earliest memories of travelling in Iran is strolling around this very square in Esfahan. My family (too many members to count) and I would travel across the city in bundling taxis and open-car Jeeps to reconvene here.
“Careful with the samovar Zara, my dear, you need two hands!” My uncle would shout over to the back of the car as he zipped through the roar of other vehicles, one eye on the road, one eye on the copper urn holding its precious liquid inside. For, naturally, Iranians can’t have a gathering without a glass of steaming chai, black tea. And Iranians can’t meet without huge offerings of food. The sharing of food on Naqsh-e Jahan Square comes in the form of a mountainous picnic – somewhat an art form in Iran.
Naqsh-e Jahan Square in Esfahan, Iran © lkpro/Shutterstock
Picnickers flock to the lush green patches of the square to spread out, gossip over who is marrying whom, and to indulge in hearty Iranian cuisine. Pyramids of plastic Tupperware are passed around like Pass the Parcel, while the lid is peeled back to reveal the tub’s colourful insides. The roar of reds from saffron rice billow out, while the deepest greens of sabzi, herbs, are layered in the containers. Tiny cucumbers with a drizzling of salt are crunched on like an apple, while soft, juicy kebabs are bitten into while the tangy zing of sumac enters the hot, humid air.
“Who has the tahdig?” My father would call out over the Persian carpet, comforting us as we perched on top of it and picnicked. Tahdig is the crispy, crunchy, golden potato found at the bottom of a pot of rice – and it’s what every Iranian fights over at meal times.
There are other flecks of gold glimmering near Naqsh-e Jahan Square where there are endless stalls of traditional craftsmen in Bazar-e Bozorg. The parts of the bazaar that rub shoulders with the square are over a thousand years old. Middle-aged mustachioed men crouch over the finest Persian rugs. Thin needles weaving in and out of the blanket of colour – glimmering gold, velvety crimson and bold black – all catch the eye. Rings of clink, clink, clinks and tap, tap, taps travel through the market as craftsmen chip away at grand metal trays and