One fine August morning of 2025, scores of people flocked to Iglika, a small semi-abandoned village nestled in the central Stara Planina mountain range near Gabrovo. They had come for an event without a parallel in Bulgaria. On a sun-dried meadow, a collector of traditional Bulgarian kilims had spread about 900 handwoven pieces, dating from the 18th to the 20th centuries. Their bright colours and intricate ornaments created an astonishing mosaic that reflected centuries of kilim-making tradition. Another hundred pieces were displayed around the village, reminding visitors of the kilim's original role: bringing warmth and beauty into people's homes.

The Chiprovtsi kilims are well known in Bulgaria, particularly since they were inscribed on UNESCO's Intangible Cultural Heritage list in 2014. Yet the country's tradition is far richer, as Jaap van Beelen – the driving force behind the Iglika Kilim Fest – has discovered. His life's mission has become preserving original kilims and raising public awareness of their significance.

Jaap van Beelen

Jaap, who is Dutch, discovered Bulgaria by chance. In 1967, while travelling the Hippy Trail towards India, a series of accidental encounters in then-Communist Bulgaria convinced him that he did not need to go farther to find a country worth discovering. In the early 2000s, he returned to Bulgaria and eventually settled here, first in Kotel and then in Veliko Tarnovo.

"I purchased my first kilim in 2004, right after I bought a large wooden 1848 house in Kotel," Jaap recalls. It was a local piece that was just 40-50 years old, but it was enough to spark a passion. Eventually, Jaap bought 50 kilims to furnish his house. Most were from Kotel, but others came from Chiprovtsi and Teteven. What began as a search for authentic floor coverings soon grew into a quest to collect, preserve and celebrate the art of the Bulgarian kilim.

Bakamski kilim from Chiprovtsi. These are the oldest known Bulgarian kilims, this one was weaved about 1750

Today, Jaap's collection has around 1,000 items, divided into four main groups. The Bakamski kilims are the oldest Chiprovtsi kilims. They date from the 17th-19th centuries and are unique, woven without preliminary models. The second group consists of kilims made between 1820 and 1880 in Pirot, now in Eastern Serbia, alongside rare Samokov kilims from 1857 to 1900. A third group comprises Starokotlenski kilims, or old Kotel kilims, made between 1800 and 1920, especially dated and signed ones. The fourth group consists of the so-called Manastir kilims from the Ludogorie region, in Bulgaria's northeast, made between 1850 and 1925. Almost unknown in Bulgaria, they are highly valued abroad for their outstanding design. Jaap hopes to further enrich his collection with more pieces from Samokov, Gabrovo and Veliko Tarnovo.

So, what makes Bulgarian kilims so special? "They might not be the oldest, nor the most beautiful, nor the most valuable," Jaap says, "but they have their own specific language."

Ornamented Pirot kilim, 1860-1880

Bulgaria's kilim tradition is surprisingly diverse, yet it can generally be divided into two schools. The western school, centred on Chiprovtsi and Samokov, is known for finer wool and interlocking weaving techniques. Until the late 19th century, most of these were made for export, predominantly to the Ottoman market, which explains the strong influence of Ottoman motifs and symbols. The eastern school, centred in Kotel, Sliven and the Ludogorie, used thicker wool and the slit-weave technique. The kilims from Kotel were typically made for wealthy local families, while the ones from Ludogorie were made for personal prayer for residents of the Turkish villages in the region. "This is why Kotel kilims often carry names and dates of completion woven into them," Jaap notes. "Their designs are more geometric, their colours more subdued."

Bulgarian kilims did not evolve in isolation but as part of a broader tradition and cultural environment. Jaap van Beelen has travelled extensively abroad to understand this context. "Kilims worldwide share one inherent trait: they have two identical sides. This is the nature of flat weaving that sets them apart from knotted carpets and rugs," he explains. Yet in Kotel, Chiprovtsi and Pirot people often claim that their kilims are unique because both sides look the same. "This is simply not true," Jaap says. "Bulgaria's kilim tradition is relatively young, dating back to the late 17th century. In Turkey and China kilims were woven long before Christ."

Not all kilims in the collection are whole, like this fragment of a Samokov kilim that dates back to 1860-1880

While Islamic tradition discouraged depiction of animals and people, leading to abstract geometric designs, Balkan weavers – particularly in Pirot and Chiprovtsi – enjoyed more freedom. By the 19th century, they were already depicting birds,  frogs and other creatures. This creativity, coupled with the fine craftsmanship, fuelled the market success of western Bulgarian kilims after 1830.

As a collector, Jaap pays special attention to the provenance of each piece, often uncovering remarkable stories. One of these concerns a beautiful kilim he bought in Kyustendil, in Bulgaria's southwest. The piece had belonged to a family of refugees from what is now North Macedonia, who settled in Bulgaria during the Balkan Wars. Around the Second World War, the family's grandfather decided to buy a nice kilim for each of his three daughters' trousseaus. He went to Kotel and, inadvertently, ordered pieces that blended his family's heritage: Macedonian Sarköy designs combined with Kotel wool and workmanship. Some time later, Jaap was given a clipping from a Bulgarian women's magazine from the late 1930s: the Kyustendil kilim from his collection was featured there.

The Kotel kilim with Sarköy design and ornamentation, 1935-1940, which was featured in a lifestyle magazine

The kilims themselves can also "speak" to those who know how to read them. For us, Jaap "interpreted" one of his items, an early Chiprovtsi kilim with frog ornaments. "The design's structure is ordinary: a field of frogs with a central medallion and a border of wings. A kilim is woven from the bottom up and usually from left to right. In this case, after the weaver made the first two frogs, she realised that she had made them too wide – four would not fit in one row. So, she made the third frog narrower and stuck to this size for the rest of the kilim."

The ornaments in this late 19th century Chiprovtsi kilim tell a rich story, if you know how to read it. Jaap decyphered these messages for us

The weaver made another mistake: the central medallion is not exactly in the kilim's centre. She realised her mistake rather late, and she tried to correct it. This is why the wings on the upper left side are complete, but on the right side there are half-wings as there is no room for a whole ornament.

"These mistakes were the result of freehand weaving – the weavers did not follow a preliminary pattern," Jaap explains. "Such irregularities occurred often in early Chiprovtsi kilims. In the early 20th century, when the first kilim schools appeared and the work became more organised in workshops, production became more precise. But we collectors love these imperfect, somewhat archaic, freehand-executed pieces."

Sometimes, however, the imperfections were deliberate, and this kilim shows this beautifully. "As a sign of mastery, ornaments in Sarköy kilims always had eyes – and so do the frogs here. But the middle frog in the fourth row from the top is missing an eye," Jaap points out. "It was made on purpose: according to local tradition, a kilim was not supposed to be perfect, because only God is perfect. One should not show arrogance and put oneself on the same level as Him."

Chiprovtsi weavers also used deliberate deviations as personal signature. "In the case with this kilim, this could be the different colour and white cap of the halved frog in the bottom row," Jaap explains.

Manastir kilim from Shumen area, about 1875

Iglika Kilim Fest was a one-time event, but you can see some of Jaap's finest pieces exhibited in an emblematic space: the beautifully restored Han Hadji Nikoli in the Samovodska Charshiya in Veliko Tarnovo. This masterpiece of 19th-century Bulgarian building used to host travellers and traders, and is now a cultural venue with an outstanding restaurant. About 60 of Jaap's kilims from all regions of Bulgaria are on display there.

Twelve pieces from Jaap's collection will also be featured in a kilim museum in the ground floor of TSUM, the Communist-era department store in central Sofia.

However, Jaap van Beelen is focused on opening a future National Kilim Museum. He will donate his entire collection to it. He has already transferred 150 of his pieces to the Bulgarian Kilim Foundation. "The detailed plan is ready and talks are underway with two municipalities for the realisation of this ambitious project," he says. After seeing the beauty and learning the stories of his kilims, we are sure that once it happens, the museum will be an outstanding place where future generations of Bulgarians and foreigners will discover this traditional craft in its full splendour. 

Starokotlenski kilim. A date, 1869, and a name, Vetsyu Nikola, were weaved in its upper border