On Jumeirah Beach Road in Dubai stands a sleek villa with windows of varying sizes, spaced to a rhythm unlike the buildings around it. Scattered across its facade, each window frames a single handmade carpet.
It is the UAE flagship of Levantine carpet-maker Iwan Maktabi, and this vaulted new space has been a century in the making.
To understand its significance, one must return to 1926, when a young carpet-dealer named Hajj Hussein Maktabi left Isfahan in search of new markets. He settled first in Baghdad, then Damascus, before curiosity led him to Beirut, a city that would alter the family’s trajectory forever.
“He saw the sea, the mountains, people wearing modern clothes and speaking foreign languages,” recalls his grandson, Mohamed Maktabi, speaking from Beirut. “He never went back, just called his wife and told her: ‘Sell the house, bring the children.’”
In Beirut, Hajj Hussein opened an eponymous carpet shop and raised a family of 12. Over time, the business grew alongside the ambitions of his children – particularly his second son, Abbas, whom the family affectionately nicknamed The Bulldozer.
“He was pushy,” Mohamed says with a laugh. “He wanted growth.”
Abbas recognised that carpets could not rely solely on tradition. In the 1990s, he opened Iwan Maktabi for his daughters, filling it with pieces collected on buying trips that did not fit the family shop.
And it was an immediate success. “It was a breath of fresh air,” Mohamed says. “There was taste. It was curated. We actually had a shop window at a time when carpet shops covered their windows.”
Demand grew quickly. Mohamed’s sisters, Chirine and Mona, were soon “overwhelmed”, prompting him to join the business. “I never left,” he says.
The next major chapter came in 2009 when Mona expanded into Dubai Mall, while Chirine remained in Beirut, and Mohamed split his time between Lebanon and the wider Gulf region. Tourists and residents alike were drawn to Iwan Maktabi’s blend of contemporary aesthetics and traditional craftsmanship.
Later, the siblings opened a smaller, more experimental outpost in Alserkal Avenue, tapping into Dubai’s creative scene. “It’s a beautiful place,” Mohamed says. “We turned the pop-up into our Design Lab and invited artists to show us their work, which we then translated into carpets.”
The concept proved fertile ground. Young creatives, designers and collectors gravitated towards the space and the Maktabis increasingly found themselves operating less as dealers and more as collaborators, commissioners and interpreters of craft.
Eventually, the family decided to consolidate both concepts into a single flagship, finding a villa on Jumeirah Beach Road. “We had to let go of Dubai Mall,” Mohamed says. “It was difficult because once you leave, you cannot easily return. But this gave us more freedom.”
Earlier this year, the Alserkal location was also folded into the villa. Today, design consultations, artist collaborations and bespoke commissions all happen under one roof. With decades of technical expertise and a vast network of workshops across the region and South Asia, Iwan Maktabi has reinvented itself as a producer of original collections rather than simply a source of existing carpets.
The company collaborates with artists and designers to develop contemporary forms, updated palettes and new techniques, while maintaining the integrity of handmade production. “Dubai changed our approach,” Mohamed explains. “We realised we already had this history of collaboration. We just started building on it.”
That balance between preservation and reinvention now sits at the centre of the company’s philosophy. “To stay true to our grandfather’s vision, we need to tell stories through carpets,” he says. “A modern carpet cannot just be a drawing translated into weaving; it needs to tell a story. We try to infuse it with meaning so that, in future, people look back and still feel a connection.”
It is also, he admits, a question of survival. “The whole world is facing a problem of relevance,” he says. “People bring me carpets their parents collected and ask: ‘What do I do with these now?’ If we want weavers to continue making carpets, the carpets themselves have to remain relevant.”
That pursuit has often meant pushing traditional workshops beyond their comfort zones. Resistance, Mohamed says, is common, particularly in places where carpet-making remains deeply tied to cultural identity.
“In Iran, for example, many workshops still want carpets to look traditionally Persian,” he says. “They’re afraid of losing the DNA.” Paradoxically, some of the boldest experimentation has emerged from displaced communities. Iwan Maktabi works with Afghan refugees in Pakistan and Tibetan weavers in Nepal, and many artisans have proved more open to innovation because weaving is no longer solely about heritage, but livelihood.
“They are more open to guidance,” Mohamed says. “They are more willing to ask what will keep us coming back with new orders.” One of the company’s most ambitious recent projects emerged through a collaboration with Saudi Arabia’s Architecture and Design Commission.
Paired with Saudi designers Abeer Al Otaibi and Aljuda Albandari, the company developed a collection inspired by Red Sea coral reefs. Called the Cora Collection, it features amorphous forms and dense textures that blur the line between carpet, furniture and architecture. “The designers had one request,” Mohamed says. “We don’t want a flat carpet.”
The result included seating stools wrapped in undulating coral-like forms, unveiled during Milan’s Salone del Mobile in April. Rendered through dense weaving techniques, the project pushed the Nepalese workshop producing it almost to breaking point.
“The master weavers were working at three times their normal speed,” Mohamed recalls. “When they finished, the head of the workshop looked at me and said: ‘Mr Maktabi, never again,’” he says with a laugh.
The company has increasingly focused on natural fibres, seen in its silk and jute collaboration with Saudi’s Syn Architects, as luxury houses increasingly position craftsmanship and handmade production as markers of ultimate value.
“There is a design intent to everything we do, and it’s luxurious because it’s handmade,” Mohamed says. “When something is handmade, it elevates the brand, elevates the craft and adds value to the product.”
That philosophy extends to nurturing regional creative talent. Mohamed speaks passionately about giving Middle Eastern designers the kind of platform traditionally reserved for major European names. He points to British brand The Rug Company and collaborations with designers including Alexander McQueen and Paul Smith.
“This region has a lot of voices,” he says. “We have a lot of talent.” One example is Lebanese designer Shahar Fayez, 24, whose sculptural furniture inspired Sediment, a carpet collection rooted in movement and landscape. “She imagines sand falling and just follows the movement of the sand,” Mohamed says.
Woven from wool and silk in tones of terracotta, sand and putty, the pieces feature irregular edges and clusters of tiny dots that appear in motion.
Elsewhere, the company continues working with artists, architects and collectors from across the Gulf and beyond – from Orient 499 boutique in Beirut to the famed Italian luxury design house Fornasetti. This year, the Maktabi family marks 100 years since their grandfather first left Isfahan in search of new audiences for his tapestries.
A century later, the family is still navigating the same question: how to honour tradition without becoming trapped by it. Inside the Jumeirah villa, framed by crisp white walls, handwoven carpets hang like artworks. Made through patience, craft and a century-long devotion to keeping beauty relevant, the answer appears quietly resolved – at least for now.
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