The Whirling Dervishes

Doreen and Miriam at one of their exhibition openings ... maybe 2003

There to help you try and make a purchase is Doreen Mirvish Bahiri, owner of the Dervish Gallery. Her story began about sixty years ago, when in the 1960s sisters Doreen and Miriam Mirvish moved from Cape Town to Tsfat in northern Israel. Miriam, the older sister, arrived in 1952 and Doreen followed her in 1964. Doreen, now aged 87, is the surviving sister and she relates that they swapped Cape Town, which at that time they thought as a city at the end of the world with a small closed Jewish community, for Israel, which she remembers as an exciting pioneering adventure at the time.

In Tsfat they opened a local crafts gallery selling old Yemenite embroideries. Then they added pieces of local pottery, dishes and pots, made originally in Southern Lebanon, that were used by the surrounding villagers to store food and olive oil. Old people would visit the gallery, remembers Doreen, and they would tell her to come and see what they had stored in their attics. There she would discover old ceramic and copper pots which she and her sister Miriam subsequently sold in the gallery, along with items from local craftspeople.

In 1969 the sisters moved the gallery to 21 Dov Hoz Street in Tel Aviv. There they decided to branch out and look for crafts from other countries. Miriam made her first trip to India in 1970. She had always loved Indian movies, which she had watched in Cape Town cinemas, and being in possession of a British passport, she was able to visit countries that were out of bounds to Israeli passport holders. In India she found an abundance of silk scarves, sandals and silver ethnic tribal jewelry. Doreen says that after that, the Dervish Gallery became known as the place to find Indian sandals.

Following her first journey to India, Miriam and her sister Doreen expanded their search and travelled to Nepal, Morocco, Yemen, Turkey, China, Russia, Indonesia and many African countries on buying sprees. In those days, they travelled cheaply with local buses and third-class trains that used to break down to reach out-of-the way places where local crafts were produced.They used buckets to shower and added chemicals to the local water to make it drinkable. They used to return to Israel having shed many kilos from unpalatable diets, but nevertheless on a high from the excitement of visiting totally different cultures.

As they were unable to import large quantities back to Israel during that period, they had to sit in hotel lobbies making up small three kilo parcels of what they had acquired, wrapping them in material, to send them back by mail.

In 1980 Doreen, who had studied how to be a silversmith, spent a longer period in India to learn the techniques of the local jewelers who produced heavy tribal silver jewelry. In those days, according to Doreen, there was a special relationship between the Jews, Indians and Nepalese.

When there were very few foreigners visiting these countries, Doreen says the natives would always recognize the sisters by putting their hand over one eye and saying "Moshe Dyan"!

Through their travels and contacts with the locals, the sisters developed relationships with artists where they knew they could find special crafts. Doreen says their suppliers always liked working with Israelis.

Nowadays, according to Doreen, the textiles she orders from abroad are of the same high standard, but the quality of ethnic jewelry has fallen as demand and prices have increased, and craftspeople realise that to spend months working on one item doesn't pay. Items made for individuals are crafted with care and pride, unlike products for the commercial market. Doreen remembers buying jewelry that was given as a gift to the villagers, which would remain a unique product. Today, she gives an example of mass production: applique work where the designs are repeated constantly.

She remembers the huge, colourful, beautifully woven Suzani embroideries, sown by young women in Bukhara and Uzbekistan, completed for weddings and other events. These were unique and very different from today's mass-produced items.

Doreen still orders from abroad, although at the age of 87 she has stopped travelling to different places. She has contacts who she sends into shops to buy for her. Last week an order of ceramics and textiles arrived from Jaipur India to join her huge stock in her gallery.

'Does she still sell in the quantities she used to?' I wonder.

Doreen shakes her head. The market is much smaller and she mostly sells to regulars, like 95-year-old Malka, who used to buy from the sisters' gallery in Tsfat and who showed up last week and bought a Bukharan jacket to wear at a wedding.

'Do customers bargain?'

'Many do but people who appreciate good quality crafts will not quibble over the price,' says Doreen.

'But times have changed. In the old days, people like Moshe Dayan's wife Ruth, who ran the Maskit shops, would encourage local crafts, but this does not exist anymore. We still appreciate it, because we grew up in a house where my father collected beautiful things. These in fact were the roots of the Dervish Gallery.'

I leave the gallery carrying a handmade appliqued Indian cover for my sofa, pleased as punch.