Articulating, Iranian Art
Transcription
Articulating, Iranian Art
Hamid Keshmirshekan Fari Bradley Malu Halasa Tamineh Monzavi Newsha Tavakolian Leili S. Mohammadi Sohrab M. Kashani Omid Salehi Valeria Bembry Barbad Golshiri Sohrab Mokhtari Volume 1 | Issue 3 Journal #3 18 Grand Union Crescent London E8 4TR United Kingdom www.journal3.org info@journal3.org Vol.I / No.3 2011 Editors Neal MacInnes Marina Khatibi Josh McNamara (Consulting) Design Neal MacInnes Hana Tanimura (Consulting) Communications & Public Relations Isabel Sierra y Gómez de León Multimedia Production Numra Siddiqui Journal #3 is an independent, quarterly publication. “...more Lady Gaga than Balanciaga...” ISSN 2045-2373 All contributor copyright remains with the individual authors and artists. Publication copyright varies throughout this issue. Please contact us for more detailed information. The editors would like to thank all of our contributors for being so generous with their time and ideas. We welcome collaborations and ideas for content on an ongoing basis. Do get in touch. Submissions Visit: www.journal3.org/about.html r Editorial In this issue #3 looks at the articulation of contemporary Iranian art. It is an articulation into an increasingly globalized art and media landscape. The shifting contours of this landscape have changed East-West relations and instead of seeing Iran through the outsider’s eyes, Iranian artists, photographers and writers reveal their own views of themselves and their society. Yet in a globalized world of communication, it is more often than not, miscommunication that is part of our everyday existence. Since every artistic product emerges in a particular context influenced, consciously and unconsciously by the dominant and minor discourses of its time might we suggest that a piece of art produced in a particular socio-political context, no matter whether it openly engages with it, can be received within different frameworks by a multitude of audiences influenced by collective memory, media, dominant discourses and personal experience. These are the issues integral to art criticism, and to the flow of a greater body of (mis)communication. In order to explore the issues at hand, #3 brings together the sometimes disagreeing, critics, artists, and writers to provide a conversation that originated from the question “What is Iranian Art?” What we found, rather, is that the false simplicty of that question only highlights the importance of the many (mis) communications that are the sparkling facets of an otherwise dull gem. Hamid Keshmirshekan lays the foundation for a discussion on art from Iran by providing a socio-political and art historical account of the new wave of Iranian art. Newsha Tavakolian and Tahmineh Monzavi present images about the representation of female spaces in contemporary Iran while Malu Halasa gives a voice to these pictures in her text about Tehran’s Illegal Fashion Shows. Omid Salehi’s photography series of interior car designs hints at a human need to ornament and put one’s own stamp on commodities that surround them. Valeria Bembry explains the Middle Eastern art market, through the lens of the collectors and the auction houses that sell and consume ornamentation in a different manner. Barbad Golshiri questions the presupposition that Iranian art is necessarily political and criticizes the failure to subvert official narratives and stereotypes in some contemporary work that seems produced only to cater to an art market’s taste for the exotic Other. Fari Bradley, a London-based sound artist working within the Iranian Diaspora, answers questions about cultural identity, while the Tehran-based artist and curator Sohrab M. Kashani uses new ways of communicating across geographical and national boundaries in order to connect multiple localities where they may not be able otherwise. Each of these contributors in their own way brings art into a wider discussion of our ever-changing global context. Perhaps how this discussion happens is less important than that it simply does. As Sohrab M. Kashani puts it: “For me the statement is much more important than the medium.” It should be for us all. - MK on behalf the editors of #3, July 2011 Articulating, Iranian Art Contents Hamid Keshmirshekan 8 A New Wave of Iranian Art Fari Bradley 21 Sounds from the Diaspora Malu Halasa 25 Tehran’s Illegal Fashion Shows Tamineh Monzavi 29 High Fashion & Wind-up Dolls Newsha Tavakolian 46 Listen Sohrab M. Kashani 58 “The distance was only geographical” Omid Salehi 66 My Car is My Love Valeria Bembry 77 Don’t Call it Contemporary: The Market for Iranian Art Barbad Golshiri 82 They Know What They Do Know Sohrab Mokhtari Abyssus 92 Hamid Keshmirshekan A New Wave of Iranian Art q Hamid Keshmirshekan Tradition and modernity are two of the most defining forces in modern Iran and this tension is no more evident than in its contemporary art. Hamid Keshmirshekan provides a historical perspective on the present and highlights the role of the sociopolitical context in which art emerges. The late 1980s—after the Iran-Iraq war (19801988)—and early 1990s saw the second phase of post-revolutionary art and culture. If the first decade of the post-revolution provoked the Islamic revolutionary and antinationalism, in opposition to the Pahlavi’s (1925-1979) doctrine, this period saw the issue of national and artistic identity and an art informed by national-Islamic characteristics as an underlying precept, still influenced by the ontological and political underpinnings of gharb-zadigī (Westoxication), addressed through a critical interpretation of the works of Iranian intellectuals1 during the 1960s and 1970s. These decades already witnessed conscious appreciation of national and cultural identity coupled with the celebration of national art: the response to the recurrent debate on the vitality of “national heritage” and its representation in Iranian culture and art. The so-called Saqqā-khāneh movement2 was the main result of this preoccupation in that period. The distinguishing features of this 9. #3 — Vol.I No.3 This article does not aim to look at all the varieties of artistic ideologies, but tries to address key issues to help understand the current situation, which is made up of a multiplicity of sometimes contradictory ideas in Iranian art. New Wave of Iranian Art Contemporary Iranian art, which on the one hand draws heavily on a Euro-American paradigm and on the other hand has selectively adapted existing art forms, is structurally heterogeneous. So in the process, like the Iranian culture as a whole, it has incorporated elements of Euro-American modernity, while adapting a localized contemporaneity. The changing socio-political dynamics of the country present a number of unique and interesting cases of this new situation, specific to their particular cultural context, but also related to other cultural norms and much larger, global movements and institutions. climate, now led by political elites in the 1980s and early 1990s, were still anti-colonialism, anti-westernism, and a desire to find one’s authentic culture. More specifically, there was continued preoccupation during those decades with “the West” as a universal model dominating a troubled Iranian “self” and a resistance to a basically imperialist West.3 The formulated interest of officials within the country clearly promoted particular values as resistance against the “cultural aggression” (and norms) of cultural globalization. Much of what was, for example, considered local—with reference to tradition or, as having the nature of a localized culture—proposed against cultural aggression as being worthy of preservation was said to be based on “cultural essentialism.”4 This general cultural attitude explains why in official cultural and artistic events it was perfectly clear that encouragement was given to taking refuge in the cultural authenticity, historical specificities and traditional values, particularly of Islam or the so-called IranoIslamic Shiite traditions as an integral part of that authentic culture.5 A large body of art works created in this era— continuing for almost a decade—shows the characteristic uncertainty of a transitional era. However, the post-revolutionary intellectual discourse which was inclined to conform to the West was a phenomenon of the late 1990s.6 Unlike their intellectual predecessors, thinkers in the 1990s generally tended not to have similar simplifications, i.e. ideological views that emphasized one factor as central to solving Iran’s problems.7 Here, we see that the implications for the maintenance of the idea of those cultural ideals, presented in the ideology and works of those previous generations, have now become problematic. 8 It was perhaps because these cultural ideals and their presentation carry little weight with those who do not identify with them. The third phase began in 1997 with the socalled reformism9 when the new movements paved the way for developing new discourses in Iranian art. During this period (1997-2005), post-revolutionary Iran experienced a period of “cultural thaw” and the relaxation of restrictions on art led to the emergence of a generation of artists whose main preoccupation was the idea The third phase saw the introduction of new means of visual expression like artphotography, video, installation, performance, and the emergence of a generation whose concern is less with the affirmation of communitarian identity than with their own biography within a society undergoing fast and radical changes. This art could perhaps enable these artists to forefront alternative visions of Iranian identity in an increasingly globalized world. For them it was a success to have a chance to experiment new expressions with innovative languages, which were luckily backed by the official art establishments of that period.12 Accordingly, on the one hand the artist’s eagerness for experimenting with new idioms and on the other, official promotion for development of these new languages paved the way for development of different modes of the so-called “New Art.”13 Hamid Keshmirshekan New Wave of Iranian Art of contemporaneity.10 The postscript for the contemporary artist was now defined by the desire for being in the contemporary, rather than producing a belated or elevated response to the everyday. Although no comprehensive study is available, it was clear that the majority of the emergent artists belonged mostly to the “third generation,”11 were young, were already a majority in Iranian society, were educated and middle class, and were mostly from central Iranian cities, in particular the capital Tehran. Now, an increasing flow of exhibitions testified to the growing interest in experimenting with the new means of art expression.15 The first comprehensive exhibition of this kind was held at the TMoCA in the summer 2001.16 A recurring event, it proved to be a turning point in the formation of a movement in contemporary Iranian art. While the sense of experiment about New Art was intense, during the same heady period, successive exhibitions at the TMoCA were likewise rewarded with increasing full attendances. New Art basked in 10. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Enjoying government patronage, it was now possible for the New Art artists to perform or make their works by the support of the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art (Mūzeh-i hunarhay-i mu’asir-i Tihrān) (TMoCA)14 which came to be a supportive, encouraging space and to exhibit their works—both inside and outside the country—with more flexibility. a boom, and its makers found similar levels of enthusiasm when some successfully exhibited abroad. An appetite developed for the new, unconventional and in a word contemporary. Much of the dynamic driving emergent artists in this period sprang from the urge to break down the barriers that could so easily have prevented them from tackling new subjects, new materials, new ways of working and new forms of exhibiting that had previously been considered out of bounds. However, since 2005 (when the reform period ended), the governmental supports for this art principally shifted to a different level, while trying to re-define the same cultural policy which had for years been experienced before the third phase. Nevertheless, the fourth phase still sees artists continuing the tasks that they had already begun in the previous phase, now through private sectors and more specifically with foreign networks and exhibitions. The surge of interest by the international art market in contemporary Iranian art has played an influential role in new developments in the art market, which in turn has stimuated expectations. These increasing expectations have caused a criticism that the old cultural marginality is no longer a problem of “invisibility” but one of an excessive “visibility” in terms of a reading of cultural difference that is too readily marketable. The fact that non-Euro-American artists are still “expected” to produce either “ethnic” or “political” art, whilst other positions are tacitly ignored, suggests that “visibility” alone has not been adequate to provide the conditions for an independent speaking subject. What we see in the works of particular artists by use of ironic, sometimes humorous, language has become also a common method to criticize this exoticism and as a metaphorical reaction against united sacred values defined by officials. Hence many artists have largely showed indifference against the idea of particularism in the sense of imposing a fixed and formulated mode of identity or “monolithic” or “one-view” formulae. Barbad Golshiri’s (b.1982) works, for example, largely represent this concern. The artist uses his own voice in expressing the infinite cultural aspects that he grapples with. Golshiri’s work reveals and questions social limitations, transforming repression Barbad Golshiri, Vanitas, Aplastic video, 2008-10. Iron, lamp, slide, lenses, liver duration: pathetic loop. Courtesy the artist. Jinoos Taghizadeh, Messages, 2006. C-Type Photograph. Courtesy the artist. 11. Mehran Mohajer, The Memories of an Indolent, Fatigued, Flaneur, 2008. C-print, 77 cm x 77 cm. C-print. Courtesy the artist. into creation, and testing the possibilities of critically addressing social reality. Jinoos Taghizadeh (b.1971) is another artist who works with various media. Questioning her own personal identity while criticizing what is called definitive collective memory, she also employs autobiographical images through her works to address the situation of both gender and cultural disorders. Mehran Mohajer’s (b. 1964) photographs represent a world of silent contemplation and connotations, while addressing social sensitivities and criticizing power relations and the homogenization of life. The necessity for constant repositioning has led to a dynamic development in new forms of expression that are mainly symbolic,17 12. metaphorical, and poetic traits. Artists respond to the changing cultural climate of their country by creating works that incorporate with, yet depart from a personal or collective past. Rokni Haerizadeh’s (b.1978) painting is a good example. His works ironically criticize the hypocritical aspects of Iranian culture. His main inspiration comes from Iran’s rich literature—such as Ferdowsi’s Shahnameh (The Book of King), Nizami or Rumi’s poetry— using their grand themes as allegories for contemporary Iranian social issues. Haerizadeh renders these scenes with a satirical taste and caricature-like appearance. It is not surprising that Iranian artists’ references to traditions and cultural values Gender in a patriarchal society is a prominent theme in Rozita Sahrafjahan’s (b. 1962) work. She depicts despair and depression in a way that expresses subtle social criticism. Mostafa Darrebaghi’s (b.1966) works identify and celebrate different possibilities for mapping contemporary Iranian culture. These possibilities are addressed through several overlapping themes such as the politics of gender and related social corruption as well as personal narratives revolving around ideas of isolation, memory, and nostalgia (fig.12). Nostalgic commentary of domestic life is also addressed in Masoumeh Mozaffari’s (b.1958) large canvases as objects and human figures 13. Hamid Keshmirshekan New Wave of Iranian Art Usually the metaphors and allegories of the artwork, offering political irony, are acknowledged to go beyond recognisable forms of cultural representation. In particular, through their artistic discourses, many young artists seek to disengage themselves from the nationalist agenda which has long dominated aesthetic discussions of Iranian art; instead invoking universalizing and cosmopolitan discourses on web-sites and elsewhere in order to position their art firmly within a global art scene; something which is often justified in terms of “becoming international or global”. This can remarkably be seen in the works of artists working with different media. Others critically approach societal and political issues such as the exploration of highly politicised notions of public space. Rokni Haerizadeh, Razm, 2006. Acrylic on canvas, 200 cm x 200 cm. Courtesy the artist. #3 — Vol.I No.3 are formed in a rather critical, satirical, and ironic language; as in the demonstration of a fashionable way of life, especially youth culture from the larger sphere of popular culture. By mixing contradictory elements both from consumerist culture and traditional culture, the works of Ladan Broujerdi (b. 1971) address the inherently contradictory situation of a culture. They aim at capturing the aesthetic nuances that shape, reshape and reinvent the identity of the new Iranian culture. Shirin Aliabadi’s (b. 1973) Miss Hybrid, too, suggests the same social commentary, although in a more popular way. Peyman Houshmandzadeh (b.1969), a writer and photographer, in the Banished series criticizes differently the contradictory elements of a culture which is still suspended amidst true beliefs, superstitious and popular life. Nazgol Ansarinia, Rhyme and Logic, 2009. Handmade carpet. Courtesy the artist. Behdad Lahooti, from Chahanchah series, 2009. Plastic container. Courtesy the artist. Shirin Aliabadi, Miss Hybrid no.4, 2007. Colour Photograph. Courtesy the artist 14. Ladan Broujerdi, Cold War, 2009. Watercolour on board, 90 cm x 120 cm. Courtesy the artist. Peyman Houshmandzadeh, from the Banished series, 2008. C-Type Print. Courtesy of the artist. 15. On the whole, while the work of Iranian artists often grew dark and intensely sceptical— concerned with isolation, fragmentation, and dislocation—there is a frequent obsession with the sense of being up to date and “of today”. This obsession means living in, and with, perpetual flux.18 It is perhaps this sense of contemporaneity which has posed options and challenges for Iranian society and will continue to affect art and artistic representations. Hamid Keshmirshekan Asareh Akasheh, My Dear Edward after, 2010. Mixed media, 250 cm x 200 cm. Courtesy the artist. New Wave of Iranian Art are all sentenced to a silenced private world; a situation they react to violently (fig.13). The most depressing unsympathetic faces, thinking about a long unknown grief, are subjects of Samira Eskandarfar’s (b.1980) painting. She demonstrates a visual expression of despair, yet adds some humor and a sense of the absurd to it. From this standpoint, sociopolitical commentary is one of the inseparable features of her paintings (fig.14). On the other hand, Ahmad Morshedloo (b.1973), focuses the subject of his paintings and drawings on the obsession, the bitterness, the contradictions, and the contemporary realities of his society (fig.15 Amir Mobed (b. 1974), ). using various unconventional materials, has also concentrated on social and psychological issues. Some pieces, for example, challenge the clichés of sexual attraction as well as other conventional criteria of beauty in art making (fig.16). Mehdi Farhadian (b. 1980) chooses his unusual themes mostly from the recent history of Iran; romanticizing luxurious scenes of popular places, objects, and characters, they imply a nostalgic feeling for viewers familiar with the history of the images (fig.17). q 1 In his landmark book Āsīyā dar barābar-i Gharb (Asia Facing the West), Daryoush Shayegan, the prominent Iranian thinker and philosopher of the 1970s, for example, maintains that “the past is still just around the corner. Even if it is buried, it can still be exhumed.” (Daryoush Shayegan, Āsīyā dar barābar-i Gharb (Tehran, 1977): 109) 16. #3 — Vol.I No.3 ENDNOTES Rozita Sharafjahan, Deep Depression, 2004. Still from video. Courtesy the artist. Hamid Keshmirshekan 2 For a comprehensive study of the Saqqākhāneh School, see the author’s article “Neotraditionalism and Modern Iranian Painting: The Saqqa-khaneh School in the 1960s,” Iranian Studies, vol. 38, no. IV, (December 2005): 607– 630; or the “Saqqa-khana School of Art” in Encyclopaedia Iranica, London & New York, Routledge & Kegan Paul, www.encyclopaedia Iranica.mht 3 See the H. Keshmirshekan, “Discourses on Postrevolutionary Iranian Art: Neotraditionalism during the 1990s,” Muqarnas, vol. 23, 2006: 131-157. 4 Explanation in terms of cultural specificities, sliding into cultural essentialism, are well illustrated in the work of Bertrand Badie (1986), Les deux etats: pouvoir et societe en Occident et en terre d’ Islam, which presents a detailed argument for the historical and ideational distinction and contrast between the “two states”, the Western and the Islamic. 6 See “The Intellectual Best-sellers of PostRevolutionary Iran: On Backwardness, Elitekilling, and Western Rationality”, Afshin Matin-Asgari, Iranian Studies, vol. 37, no. 1 (March 2004): 87. New Wave of Iranian Art 5 See “Discourses on Postrevolutionary Iranian Art,” Muqarnas, vol. 23, 2006:131-157. Mostafa Darrebaghi, Still-life, installation. Courtesy the artist. 2008. Painting Massoume Mozafari, Untitled, 2009. Acrylic on canvas, 180 cm x 300 cm. Courtesy the artist. 7 See Nikki R. Keddie, Modern Iran: Roots and Results of Revolution (New Heaven & London, 2003): 304. 17. #3 — Vol.I No.3 8 See Ramin Jahanbagloo, “Introduction,” in Iran Between Tradition and Modernity, ed. Ramin Jahanbagloo (Oxford, 2004): xvii. 9 The reformist Mohammad Khatami was elected president in the spring 1997. Strongly popular among the both the public and the cultural elites, he came to power with more moderate liberal view of Islam and the Islamic Republic with promises of more freedom and relaxation of the press and political and cultural reforms. His administration, in particular in the cultural sections, was able to offer a period of moderation within the country and more encouragement was given to communication with the outside world which had for long been opposed strongly by the previous officials. and Samira Eskandarfar, Untitled, 2008-9. Acrylic on canvas, 110 cm x 200 cm,. Courtesy the artist 10 See H. Keshmirshekan, “Contemporary Iranian Art: the Emergence of New Artistic Discourses,” Iranian Studies, vol. XL, no. iii, (2007) pp. 335-366. Hamid Keshmirshekan The reform period, however, ended in 2005 with the election of the subsequent radical president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and his administration. 11 Here the use of this term is mainly to refer to the youth who were born in the period after the 1979 Islamic Revolution. This term was also used in the press and political conversation during the 1997 General Election and throughout the reformist mottos as to express an emphasis on the importance of this generation who came to be the main supporters of the reform movement during the late 1990s and early 2000s. 14 Established in 1977 just before the Revolution, in the post-revolution period it was then under the Centre of Plastic Arts (Markaz-i hunar-hāy-i tajassumi-i kishvar) of the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance and during the reform period played a pivotal role in promoting various forms of contemporary Iranian art. 15 Major exhibitions during 1998 to 2005 include the “First Conceptual Art” exhibition, “New Art 1” exhibition, “New Art 2” exhibition, in 2001, 2002 and 2003 respectively. Then the 18. New Wave of Iranian Art 13 The term “New Art,” used for the first time for the “Conceptual Art” exhibition in 2002, was extensive because it included various forms of fine art media such as video art, installation, photo-art, audio art, performance etc. See N/A, Guft-u-gū ba Hamid Severi, “agar istifādeh nakunīm, ‘aqab mī-mānīm (if we don’t use it, we shall straggle)”, Herfeh hunrmand, ii (1381): 131. Also to be noted is that in this period a great number of students entered the art institutions and some were taught by New Art instructors there. #3 — Vol.I No.3 12 In my interview with the former influential Director of the TMoCA (1998-2005), Alireza Sami Azar in 2006, he told me that “this need really existed and the Museum provided the opportunity for it to happen and for this generation of artists to be seen!” Ahmad Morshedloo, Untitled, 2007. Pen on cardboard. Courtesy of the artist Amir Mobed, Virginity, 2004. Painted apple, human hair, Courtesy of the artist. two later were thematic exhibitions, including “Spiritual Vision”, and “Gardens of Iran” both in 2004. The next comprehensive one was supposed to be entitled “One and Thousand Nights” which never happened due to the fundamental transformation in cultural and artistic policy of the post-2005 Presidential Election and above all administrative alteration in the TMCoA. (Personal interview with Alireza Sami Azar, 2006) It was while there were other minor exhibitions during 1997 to 2005 by new media artists held in various venues both inside and outside the country. These were also supported mainly by the Museum. 16 Also to be noted is that history of emergence of this approach dates back to the exhibitions of Iranian artists in the period before the Revolution, by individuals such as Kamran Diba in the late 1960s or in particular in the late 1970s by the Independent Group of Painters and Sculptures (Guruh-i āzād-i naqqāshān va mujassameh-sāzān). In these exhibitions works by Morteza Momayyez (1935-2005) and Hamid Keshmirshekan Marcos Grigorian (1925-2007) were exhibited in the forms of installations or performances. After about two decades, however, in the post-revolutionary period, a conceptual experience took shape in Tehran in 1992/3. In this project, a group of young artists worked with a variety of material in different floors of an old house which was supposed to be very shortly destroyed after the works were done. The most important event after this experience was the project entitled “Experience of 77” by “Contemporary Art Workshop” in 1998. This group exhibition was held in a shabby house in Tehran with the cooperation of the artists who were mostly involved in the previous show. #3 — Vol.I No.3 18 See H. Keshmirshekan, Reproducing Modernity: Contemporary Iranian Art since the late 1990s, in Amidst Shadow and Light: Contemporary Iranian Art and Artist, ed. Hamid Keshmirshekan ( 2011): 139-160 New Wave of Iranian Art 17 One of the examples of this approach towards self was the exhibitions of “Deep Depression” (Afsurdigī-i ‘amīq) in 2005 and then “Deeper Depression” (Afsurdigī-i ‘amīq-tar) in 2006. 19. Mehdi Farhadian, Liy-Liy and Majnun, 2008. Mixed media on canvas, 120 cm x 150 cm. Courtesy the artist. 20. Fari Bradley Sounds from the Diaspora q An Interview with Fari Bradley conducted by #3 in April 2011 Fari Bradley Sound artist Fari Bradley answers questions about the role of sound in her artwork. She explores themes of identity and belonging in the Iranian diaspora. This interview was undertaken by email in April 2011. #3: What fascinates you about the medium of sound and made it the focus of your work? Fari Bradley: While I was studying journalism, being able to edit sound creatively just came naturally as I’d studied music all my life. Sound is that ever-present thing, there’s no such thing as complete silence. What’s interesting is that hearing can be so selective, subliminal, super perceptive... and it tells us so much about a person, what subjective things they perceive in a sound or even in a sentence’s meaning. Sounds from the Diaspora #3: How would you describe national identity? Is it a passport, a memory, a sound? FB: It’s a state of mind. 22. #3 — Vol.I No.3 As people we have the capacity to use sound to signal a plethora of emotions and needs, and on a tribal level we identify with certain sounds, certain instruments or rhythms. FB: Sure, there have to be new interpretations. It’s a mistake to be stuck in the mud about this. I often compare our UK Iranian community to the Indian one as they faced similar issues as we are facing now, but back in the 60s. Because of that time difference and because they were more in numbers, they are light-years ahead of us in terms of integrating, reclaiming their identity as a community. And also in terms of second and third generations coming up with their hybrid blends of interests and identifications. Living abroad, we’re either forced to question a lot of things we do automatically, or see the wisdom in them more keenly. That way Iranianess often becomes more distinct abroad, either because people gather in cliques, or they make more of an effort to continue Iranian tradition or even develop into a more global identity while doing both of those. It’s complicated! #3: A recent film on female Iranian artists, Pearls on the Ocean Floor by Roberto Adanto, shows some of these artists living in the diaspora. A critic suggested that what seemed the common thread among these women was a sadness that each felt from being uprooted and losing one’s homeland. Your show celebrates being an Iranian in London. How do you feel about this tension? #3: What role does sound play for imagining and (be-)longing? FB: I think it’s to some extent an instinctive role. Many animals use sound not only to express themselves and communicate but also to understand the shape and space of a place. Those sonic signals sent out by them are deciphered by the way the signals bounce back to their maker. This also goes for our ancestors in the sea, who can tell what’s coming from miles and miles away using sound waves. I remember going to Turkey when I was 14 and being deeply moved by the sound of the azan. It had a place in my unconscious. I’d not heard the call in the UK at all, but it had been in the background all the time during my life as a small child and hearing it at 14 was an immense door opening up into my past that I’d until then forgotten. #3: How does “Iranianess” change outside of Iran? Can there be new interpretations of what being Iranian means? #3: Why did you decide to create a show about Iranian arts and culture in London? FB: There was nothing in the media for Iranians who didn’t speak Persian. BBC Persian’s main purpose is to beam back to Iran. There was also no regular outlet for Iranian interests aimed at English speaking people who were simply interested in finding out more about the region. News only told of Islamic extremism, politics and war. These identifications can be limiting as far as imagination goes, but then again it is comforting. FB: It’s true, I loved aspects of my English schooling — the orderliness and the green fields of England — and I love the mix and insight the two cultures afford me. I’ll never be completely English, nor would I want to be (though as a child you just want to fit in). As for happiness and sadness, I feel in life we only truly know one by experiencing the other. For many women coming over here, there are certain freedoms, perhaps to be able to perform solo in public, dress as your mood takes you, and make lifestyle choices, but your relatives, the places you know, the sounds, the smells, and the sights of the surroundings you have defined yourself by are no longer available to you daily. It’s natural you feel cutoff. However, when we’re busy longing for something we don’t have, we often miss those things that we do have, partly because they seem too obvious while we have them. I think one thing Iranians can teach the English is to be open-hearted, a characteristic that is not part of the Northern European public persona and whose lacking probably contributes to any sadness that Iranians may feel living here. For me though, extensive travelling has just confirmed the thing that makes me completely happy: that in fact the world is made up of one enormous family, filled with the same variety, even while people are people everywhere one might go. 23. Fari Bradley #3 — Vol.I No.3 #3: You have met a wide range of Iranian artists and other cultural practitioners. Is there something that they all have in common? FB: Yes. It would be hard to put into words though. As human beings everyone wears the dignity of something they have inside, some skill or capacity, a sense of humour beneath the sedateness! There’s also an understanding that exists, mostly unspoken, that they demonstrate. Aside from that, I’ve seen a lot of trauma too, in migrants who sometimes may have been refugees. It’s not taken into consideration enough by society, the individual and mass scarring that has occurred. As artists, there’s a language that has developed and continues to develop that is at times enlightening to engage with. #3: Is there an exchange taking place between artists inside of and outside of Iran? Do you follow the sound artists working there? FB: There is some exchange but not enough. The music that trickles through to Iran tends, especially before the internet, to reach Iran in stops and starts, which explains why many musicians are still playing guitars and singing rock songs that sound like 80s or 90s emulation. The sound scene in Iran is disjointed by not having a physical communal performance space as such, but it exists and we’ve heard some great pieces on the show. Sounds from the Diaspora Regarding the film, I feel if the common voice of these twenty or so women unify to say that on the whole part of them will always long to be free to return as and when they wish, people ought to listen and be open to what they have to say. There is not one representation of what an Iranian is that we couldn’t rip apart if we wanted to as armchair critics. It’s much wiser to look for the truth in a thing than to treat it as an exclusive representation and say it doesn’t match up to the whole. #3: According to some contemporary postcolonial cultural theorists, “we all are multicultural”. Would you agree with this? How does your own background play into your work? Is music the best medium to incorporate this notion of fluidity and hybridity inherent in multiculturalism? FB: Perhaps, yes. Where there is social fluidity there will always be a flourishing culture. I would tend to agree then that we are all multicultural to some extent and this goes without saying in a city. However, we tend to be interested in some cultures more than others and that is sometimes hard to pinpoint why. When I meet curators and writers who are not Iranian but who are passionate about Iranian art or culture, I will ask them why they went in that direction or are driven to do what they do. Mostly this drive can be so integral to them that it’s enough for them to answer they’ve always been interested in these things, and they feel confident enough to answer without a reason. Who are we to dismiss that? My background comes into my work in terms of standards, but I’m talking about my English schooling here and my mother’s own standards. I guess I’d have to be able to say which part of me and my family is Iranian and which isn’t to answer this fully. Suffice to say, there are plenty of things we did in my family which were because we were Iranian, but I didn’t know it at the time. I just thought everyone was as different from each other as we were from them. FB: Well there are plenty to choose from, one I’ve already mentioned. Others are a metal string, animal skin over wood... the list of obvious sounds goes on. But most of all and ironically, it might be the one sound we don’t get to hear today in Iran, it is a woman’s voice singing solo, but only in alto. Strangely though, it also works for me in English so I surmise that it must be the quality of an Iranian voice, not just the language or music structure that gives me those goosebumps, that are again and again a measure for what is sublime. Fari Bradley #3: What Iranian sound is most personally moving? #3 — Vol.I No.3 Sounds from the Diaspora q 24. Malu Halasa Tehran’s Illegal Fashion Shows q These are the conceptual fashion outfits made by students completing their final examinations under a designer who wishes to remain anonymous. Many more women sashay in delightful eveningwear, some in décolleté gowns, their high heels beating a clack-clack rhythm on the white marble-tiled floor aisle between the rows of seats that serves as a catwalk. These models may not be as sickly thin as those one finds in Paris or Milan or as frigidly bored in their expressions, but they are poised and unflappable. At the end, in front of Monzavi’s camera, they stop, and pose. It’s a fashion show like any other – except this one is illegal. After the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran, fashion shows were a regular occurrence yet women on the catwalk were only allowed to model Islamic clothing: chadors, hijabs, and manteauxs. 26. Malu Halasa Tehran’s Illegal Fashion Shows One model, her long hair lacquered to stand straight up, has large midnight blue sequins travelling up the front of her dress, over her neck and ending on the side of her cheek. Another is conceptually made up with four colours, including the red, green and white of the Iranian flag dividing her entire face, lips painted elaborately as if they had been stitched on, a stiff cowl over a head of thick curly hair and a knee-length dress with a decorative appliqué in the shape of an arm and hand sewn across the front. Still another, more Lady Gaga than Balanciaga, is in a head-to-toe cat-suit dotted with spiky protrusions, with splayed capped fingers in long points, her face wrapped and obscured except for her eyes. #3 — Vol.I No.3 In High Fashion, a film by Tahmineh Monzavi, 50 or so women have gathered in the salon or rented meeting hall of a swanky high-rise tower block in Tehran. Some have kept their chadors on, others are only wearing their less all-concealing hijabs and a few have completely divested themselves of the coverings they don in public, and all have settled in rows of white covered seats. Out of sight in a large room at the back, organised mayhem is taking place as designers, makeup artists, hairdressers and stylists dress and prepare 25 models, who greet each other, exchange gossip and pause as they’re given one last look over before hitting the catwalk in a dazzling array of satin, silk, tulle and organza. This changed “four or five years ago, when the government refused to give permission for the fashion shows,” explains Monzavi, a 23-yearold photographer and filmmaker on the phone from Tehran, speaking through an interpreter. “And not because of religious reasons. Now that there are underground fashion shows even religious women come to watch them. The government just didn’t want large gatherings of women getting together.” These motivations, particularly since the disputed presidential elections in 2009, have become increasingly political. All public assemblies, large and small, have met with tough resistance from the state using the Basij militia, the Army and Pasderan (the Revolutionary Guards) as crowd control. Once official permission was withdrawn, the fashion show producers – all women – started to organise underground events in hired rooms and posh renovated garages across Tehran. They also significantly departed from government-sanctioned shows by featuring a wide range of apparel from wedding gowns and sporty casual-wear to dresses, even highly experimental conceptual fashion like that which appears in the film High Fashion and its accompanying black and white fashion shoot, excerpted, here, in #3. Monzavi’s lively 15-minute documentary begins with quick-cut bursts of fashion images intercut with Tehrani street scenes, which continues in colour backstage then switches to black and white on the catwalk. It is also poignant. Designers become obviously frustrated in Iran. The film doesn’t show the face of a young woman, who talks candidly to the camera, only her moving full red lips. On her cheeks there is the slightest trace of wistful glitter, remnants of the flurry backstage. Sadly she believes that the only way she will be able to work freely in her field is to leave the country and, if conditions change, one day return. In the film, the audience is attentive and appreciative – they attend illicit fashion shows twice or three times a year, if they are lucky. When a dress comes by that they like or one that surprises them, they get out their mobile phones and take a picture. A new generation of women designers have started designing clothes for Iran’s female population of approximately 38 million, the median age being 26 years old. Malu Halasa For a while now, young Iranians have been creative in the ways they wear the headscarf. Now it seems many more are looking to express themselves either underneath or in addition to the ubiquitous Islamic uniform. After the telephone interview, Monzavi further expounds her views in an email: “Fashion is very important for many of Tehran’s girls. It is on the increase and people like to come and see new design. Some of the fashion shows are for wedding dresses and they are commercial [outlets] for a designer and makeup artist. But some of them are for art and for designers to show their creations, like High Fashion, but they can’t sell these dresses because no one can wear them outside or at their parties.” Although strung-out male addicts are visible on the streets of Tehran – in another of her films Monzavi befriends one who scores and takes drugs in front of her – women addicts are for the most part forgotten. There is a single safe house for homeless female addicts in this city of over 7 million people. Like the women addicts, the unofficial fashion shows are rarely acknowledged by wider society. In the beginning Monzavi was also unaware that they existed. “I only thought there were shops that did tailoring and made dresses. I never knew that there were people creating fashion, and doing it professionally.” Her entry into the clandestine scene began when she was asked to take portraits of women in beauty salons, and was soon commissioned to photograph wedding dresses. She started going to the shows after being introduced to this world by one of the models who also designs. Monzavi’s 27. Tehran’s Illegal Fashion Shows In addition to her obvious aesthetics, there is a frisson to the work that comes from the inherent daring of an unofficial fashion scene. This gives fashion under a religious dictatorship the power to shock and surprise, compounded as it is by images of women in various states of undress. We see them getting ready, having their makeup done or generally posing in a forthright manner – and all this in an Islamic country that strictly regulates women and their appearance in public. This is the case no matter the outfits the models wear. Some of the women, professionally trained and ranging in age from 19 to 30, look disarmingly into Monzavi’s photographic camera and control their body language. When the fashion shows were official, they had to pass a test before they were accredited. Now the professionals work side by side with friends of the designers who start practicing one month before the show. Were the models worried about having their photographs taken? “They are wearing so much makeup they think they won’t be recognised without it,” Monzavi answers. “But if their clothes are opened and reveal too much then they would say to me, ‘No, don’t take a picture.’” At some of the other shows Monzavi didn’t take their photographs if the models’ arms were uncovered. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Monzavi has been documenting Iran’s unofficial fashion scene since 2007. She is better known among the city’s predominately male photojournalist fraternity for her gritty social realism, particularly her stark series on female heroin addicts among Iran’s indigent community. She writes in the same email, “I’m curious to know more about women in poor areas and high society women, and show the contrast between their classes, culture and economic lives. These kinds of contradictions exist in other countries but in Iran they are more violent.” fashion film and photographs tell the intriguing story of a little reported, covert scene. Like the film, Monzavi’s photographs have a compelling fly on the wall quality that often verges on classic fashion photography, especially in her black and white images. Monzavi prefers to use an analogue (nondigital) camera and incorporates black and white in both moving and still images to “show that it’s underground, not something official. There is more feeling to it.” There was obviously one exception in her black and white photographic series, Windup Dolls, also featured here, in which a blonde in a bra and low slung, tight fitting jeans was perfecting her pose in front of the camera. Monzavi quickly points out that the model is a transvestite, “This very special person loves to show her body.” She had even asked Monzavi to photograph her nude, images that won’t be Her energy and focus have brought her to the attention of Hengameh Golestan, the doyenne of Iranian photography and wife of the country’s late premier photojournalist, Kaveh Golestan. Hengameh believes that Monzavi is “special because of her courage and her iconic documentary style. She gets very close to her subjects and becomes emotionally involved with them. After seeing her work, I know 28. Malu Halasa Tehran’s Illegal Fashion Shows Their walk was part of the photographer’s research for her next project. “I have been trying to find subjects which are taking place in secret and are unofficial in Tehran. These are the layers of the underground that not everybody gets to see so I want the experience of opening them up and knowing about them,” admits Monzavi, who studied at Tehran’s Azad Art University and has been doing social documentary photography for the past five years. Recently she has incorporated the moving image into the visual diaries she has been creating for her extended projects. She observes, “In a photograph you only capture a moment. These videos show more information like dialogue, which can be important to the atmosphere.” #3 — Vol.I No.3 Fashion has always been a refuge for those who find themselves out of step with the status quo. Trans-sexuality has actually increased in Iran, a country where relations between men and women are highly regulated in the public sphere and where homosexuality remains a crime punishable by hanging. In fact the religious establishment even encourages sex change operations. Monzavi’s translator tells a story about strolling with the photographer in Charah College near Tehran University, off Enghelab (‘Revolution’) Avenue. “I’m even so surprised because the other night I went out with Tahmineh and her friend. There were so many [transvestites and transsexuals] walking in the street. Some of them were with women’s clothing, some of them were with men’s, but the funny thing was: although there were two young girls with me, none of the [straight] men paid any attention to us and they were just following these guys.” these characters and like them too.” Until now Fashion RGB (red, green and blue) has been Monzavi’s only fashion photographic series in colour because her analogue camera wasn’t working the afternoon of that particular fashion show. The majority of the images show models in tights, again getting dressed, and when they have finished and are waiting for their turn out front, they pose backstage. There are no pictures from the catwalk because the designer was worried about the potential trouble from the authorities. The clothes are handsome but under the circumstances their maker will remain unknown, a situation that would be unthinkable in other fashion-conscious cities, where designers routinely publicise their successes. Yet these fashion shows will continue, with or without government approval. In their creativity and inventiveness, they demonstrate the refusal of Iran’s home-grown fashion community to buckle under pressure from the Islamic republic. Ironically it was the government that forced the scene underground – where, given the choice, observers of fashion prefer to look at anything but religious streetwear. Through its own actions, it undermined efforts to normalise Islamic fashion into mainstreaming clothing trends and effectively sabotaged the control it once enjoyed. q made public considering the prohibition on nudity, artistic or otherwise, in Iran. Since that show, the model has had a sex change operation and now poses for a photographic studio. Tahmineh Monzavi High Fashion & Wind-up Dolls q Fashion shows in Tehran are a strictly female affair, no man is allowed to enter. Fashion is a very important part in the life of many Tehrani girls. They study it at university and they use their friends as models for their shows. The age of the models ranges between 19-30 years. Fashion is increasingly gaining publicity in Iran and people like to come and see new fashion designs ranging from wedding dresses, commercial designs for designers and make up artists. Some fashion shows are purely artistic and the designers simply show their creations, as can be seen in the High Fashion series. - Tahmineh Monzavi, 2011 30. High Fashion 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. All images courtesy the artist 39. Wind-up Dolls 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. Newsha Tavakolian Listen q Imaging a dream Eyes closed, mouths open, as if in a dream. Standing facing us with their backs to the darkness, they sing, soundless; they have been standing here, singing for themselves for a long time, imagining us, hearing. Standing, facing days of tedium, facing a world that has adorned them with a false crown. Standing, waiting. - Newsha Tavakolian 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. q All images courtesy the artist 57. Sohrab M. Kashani “The distance was only geographical.” q Sohrab M. Kashani was interviewed by Leili S. Mohammadi in June 2011 Sohrab M. Kashani How have forms of new media changed the way that art is produced and received? Moving beyond the oft-cited discussion on reproduction and loss of authenticity, Leili S. Mohammadi talks to Sohrab M. Kashani, an artist and curator from Tehran, who uses the potential of new media to transcend geographical and ideological boundaries. “The distance was only geographical.” So, where and how might the use of technology inside Iran marry with an artistic practice in its vibrant artistic community? This inquiry brought me directly to Sohrab M. Kashani. An artist and curator, he has been working with a variety of new media technologies at his project space in Tehran. I discussed with Sohrab the possibility for maneuvering within and around political, social, and geographical parameters and how technology can ignite new arts practice. 59. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Leili S. Mohammadi: You began as a visual artist, working mainly with photography, tell me about your practice and how it has evolved. Sohrab M. Kashani: I was always a geek, or you could say I am a geek, a computer geek, so I have always done computer programming, website design and I’ve made computer games. Then a friend of mine got a camera and we would go and take pictures together. Then I got my own camera and discovered how much I liked photography. I used digital cameras and then started a photo-blog to keep all of my photos. SMK: I was about 15, or 16. We all used to go out and take pictures. I began to take pictures of the people and the situations I was in, so while I was doing documentary photography, I documented things I was involved in or thinking about. There is an ongoing project that I am working on called “Ghoori”1 . It is about a park close to my house, a place where I spent a lot of my time; everyone hangs out there, young people of all ages. I learnt about a lot of things there - I formed my first band, made lots of friends and even started my first relationship there. Now, I’m working with lots of different media to present this series, but the point is that this is where I started, from myself, I am part of what I am photographing. New Media loosely defines a nebulous mesh of technologies for creating and communicating, all new at some point, but losing their ‘newness’ at a staggering pace. And what might an artist do with (not so) new media? Artist filmmakers of the 1960’s grappled with ‘new’ media, now it is a popular medium for artists working today. How might the New Media of 2011 become similarly entrenched in art practice? During the disputed presidential elections of June 2009, the Iranian populace, particularly the young, demonstrated how dexterous and determined their use of new media technologies was. The hypothesis that Iran has one of the most tech-savvy populations gained credence during that hot summer. LSM: How old were you at the time? LSM: So did you study photography at university? SMK: No, I didn’t go to university. Well, it’s complicated. I felt there was no point. I knew some people that went to Tehran Art University, and so I would enter the university with them, without having to show my student card, and then I would go to different classes - to graphic design, to photography. It was much better because I wasn’t forced to go to classes I didn’t want to go to. I was doing this while I was at high school, and then I had to sit the konkour (the university entrance exam taken by all Iranian high school students) and I thought, well I don’t want to do something that I’m not into, I don’t see a future in that. I don’t want to get a degree in one of the subjects where I had already attended the classes, and then be forced to take some courses I didn’t want to do, just to get the grades. So I preferred not to go to university, but then decided I should chose something that wouldn’t take up too much time and would mean I wouldn’t have to do my conscription. So I chose Spanish, my English was already good, so I thought I’d learn another language. LSM: But you knew you wanted to be an artist? SMK: Not really. Although I loved the arts I always thought I was going to be an IT/ Network Security Administrator/Analyst. SMK: Sazmanab2 began as an open studio, everyone could just come together and work, to just be around each other, in that space, making work. We had some equipment; paint, a camera, stuff that everyone could share. Then at the beginning of 2009 it became a formal project space. In Iran there isn’t anything else like it, a place that is a private space, but that isn’t a gallery, that is about running and creating projects, and not just selling work. I’d travelled to other places; Istanbul, for example, where there are at least 12 project spaces, where artists that aren’t commercial artists, or artists interested in more experimental work, who aren’t just interested in exhibiting their work, come together. In the end at a gallery your work changes, having commercial interests affects what you do. Having commercial interests isn’t a bad thing. Actually, I think it is a good thing. But I think that it takes something from the artists. I think it changes their work. Even with Mohsen, the gallery I am working with, that will probably happen. But we’re trying not to get involved in that game. The gallery was set up in honour of my friend Mohsen, whom I mentioned earlier. He died in a plane crash three years 60. Sohrab M. Kashani “The distance was only geographical.” LSM: You work as a curator with two spaces the Sazmanab project and Mohsen Gallery. Tell me about the differences between these two spaces and the work you do there? #3 — Vol.I No.3 Then my interest in computer programing slowly shifted in to net-art so did my webgraphic design interests. But then I left that for a while and started taking more photographs. Then slowly I started to organise exhibitions, I had a solo exhibition at Tarahan Azad Gallery. Then Mohsen, my best friend and I, began to organise exhibitions. My interest in curating grew through him really. At the time most things that were happening were happening in Tehran, but we would curate exhibitions and then tour them in other towns- like Shiraz and Mashad - and then bring them to Tehran. After all of this I got to know Parking Gallery and started working with them. It was a project space, the only one of its kind in Tehran, and a lot of projects got off the ground there. It was there that I really got into curating. Then I decided to do my own thing, and so I started Sazmanab in 2008. ago. Mohsen and I worked together a lot and we were thinking about getting a studio and starting a gallery. We went to look at some places, and the first one became Sazmanab and the second space, the space that was going to be our studio, became Mohsen gallery. I work there as a curator. Actually we are very lucky that we have patrons, because other commercial galleries have financial pressures and because of this they can’t take the risk of investing in experimental works. But for the moment we can. Sazmanab is an independent project space and there should be more, but sadly there aren’t. I think it would help to balance out between the commercial galleries and other interests. But of course you need people that are motivated to do this, for me, on one side it is very rewarding, I love working with other people, to get new things going. But at the same time opening a project space here, in comparison to other places, is very difficult. It is against the law, I’m not supposed to have a private space, I can’t have a store-front or a display window, I can’t create relationships with the regular people on the street, which is really something I would like to do as most of my projects are about social engagement. I wish this could be a real public space, but I can’t do that. The problem here in Iran is that there is quite a negative view of conceptual art. Now there is this term here, a complete misnomer, called new media art. Something that doesn’t exist! When people use it they are referring to performance art, conceptual art or installation. Because it is something that isn’t one specific medium they put it under this label, new media art. So what I am trying to do with Sazmanab is to make a space for this sort of work, but to do that without the negative connotations of this label. We are not committed to showing work from one particular medium, and the space is not necessarily just an exhibition space. For me the statement is much more important than the medium. Now, with my own practice, I’m no longer a photographer, I began that way but now I work with video, installation, lots of mediums, and the medium itself is no longer important to me. Sometimes I will use one and sometimes another. It is important for me to use the medium that will get across my concept, YouTube mix / Photo by Anita Esfandiari Kubideh kitchen / Photo by Siavash Naghshbandi. 61. Sohrab M. Kashani my thoughts, in the best way. The work I do with Sazmanab is more social, but sometimes the work I do as an artist is about my personal feelings or opinions. In my own work I think my duty is firstly to myself, before other people, to be honest in what it is that I am saying. LSM: Can you talk me through some of the projects you and Sazmanab have been involved in recently and how they came about? SMK: A lot of our projects start as collaborations between us and artists groups or project spaces elsewhere, and yes, that contact comes, exclusively, from the Internet. Sazmanab TV is a new project I’m launching. It is an Internet TV channel where anyone can make a programme to be streamed by us. LSM: So anyone can come and make a programme or talk about a subject they are interested in? SMK: Yes, exactly, it’s like Sazmanab itself, maybe we have some guidelines, but really it is very easy to work with us; to give a presentation, a workshop, to put on an exhibition, this can happen very easily, and we are very open. And so that is the same idea with TV, and here as a ‘TV network’ we are here to help, with editing or cameras or I can let people use the space at Sazmanab to make their programmes. “The distance was only geographical.” I think lots of good things can happen because of this collaboration. I think working in groups and with others is a good challenge, it can create some competition between people and that isn’t a bad thing. SMK: Yes, but of course this isn’t just for Iranians inside or outside the country. Here in Iran you don’t see exhibitions of many foreign artists, or projects, so it is interesting for me to bring work from other places inside Iran. For example, we have presentations from artists via Skype, with Q&A. We’ve had screenings of video work form foreign artists, as well as Iranian artists. And the TV works this way too. LSM: We’ve talked a bit about this, but let’s talk 62. #3 — Vol.I No.3 LSM: So I could make something and send it to you from London? some more about how technology can be used in new, engaging work? SMK: Yes, of course Skype and ooVoo, all of this technology opens things up. A lot of the work that we do is facilitated by technology. For example we did a project called Much Love from Tehran, in collaboration with Saroseda, based here in Tehran, and B&K Projects Gallery from Denmark. We had five or six Skype connections, to connect the two spaces, and there was a live concert at Sazmanab with three electronic music bands, and there was one band in Denmark, Dansk Floede. This was for the opening of the gallery in Copenhagen, so one band would play in each location and the sound and images would be mixed live using special software, and then the mixed sound and images were sent to the other location. So it was like an interactive performance in real-time. And imagine, all of this was going on, even with the limited Internet speeds and capacities we have here in Iran. It was a complicated process! Conflict Kitchen3 was another great project I really enjoyed doing. We had two main events as part of that project, which is a larger project organized by John Rubin and his at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh. For the first event we had dinner all together. People came to Sazmanab here in Tehran and the café in Pittsburgh and we all sat down and ate the same meal and had a dicussion over Skype. The dinner tables at each location were projected over Skype, so that when we sat at the table, with the projection on the wall next to us, it looked as if we were all sat at one long table. The next event saw John and I both curate a series of videos from YouTube. This was a live screening of videos that were already available on YouTube about each of the cities we were in, Tehran and Pittsburgh. It was responsive, so if I posted a rap video from Tehran, John would find one from Pittsburgh. Then we followed this with a Q&A via Skype. It is really interesting to me that through technology we can bring people closer; that two places geographically very far apart can come together. LSM: It also seems that this work has dialogue and interaction at its core. How important is it to you to create dialogue and do you care where or with whom that dialogue is taking place? Sohrab M. Kashani SMK: Yes for me it is really important that dialogue happens. Conflict Kitchen was exactly that; creating dialogue. In regards to with whom or where this dialogue takes place, or even what it is, for me it is not important, it is just important that it happens. The interesting thing about this technology is that it is so easy. And I really like that, because I can be connected very easily to someone in Isfahan, or London, and talk as easily to both of them. Otherwise we only see each other through a set of filters, particularly through politics and the media, and think that we are all so different, when really we are very similar. These possibilities mean we can talk to each other, work with each other, and become friends. Of course, it isn’t important that this is just between me and someone in another country, I mean, it is just as hard to make connections inside the country, between us and other cities, as it is to make them between Tehran and London. 63. “The distance was only geographical.” The feedback I got here was so positive, and I want to continue this, to make it constant. I want there to be more dialogue, more discussion, more questions, more answers, to change the subject. People from Tehran felt that the first time we did the Skype conversation it was a bit like they were looking down from above. The people in the States talked very easily, with more confidence, and here people were more interested in answering the questions than asking them. Gradually that lessened and we could talk more easily. Once it became easier to talk, well, that helped to dispel misinterpretations. The more open and independent the dialogue, the easier this can happen. SMK: Well, to answer that, I think we have to talk about everything all at once: the politics, the media and the art world, the markets and the sales in Dubai. Since 2008, or whenever it was, since the focus of all the big auction houses, things have definitely changed. Before there were only a few big characters, a few names, now it is so different. In one way, it is a good thing, people are selling their work and I think that motivates them. #3 — Vol.I No.3 That is why Conflict Kitchen was so good. It wasn’t about politics. It was just social and about people. When we were all sitting down together, sharing a conversation anything could happen at that point. We might discuss the food, or the differences between us, or literature. It’s just like sitting at a table talking to the people around you. The distance was only geographical. Right now I am working a lot with this sort of technology and also because of it. LSM: How do you view current contemporary arts practices in Iran? However, there are some negative effects too. The work that gets sold, the work that gets made, is about meeting expectations, in truth, the expectations of the West. So when the media is only giving reports about the politics in the region, then people begin to expect the art work to reflect that, so work that is not political isn’t seen or it is misinterpreted and gets used in the wrong way, it becomes something political when it isn’t. It also affects the artists. There are many who are very serious and honest in their work, but others see this opportunity and compromise themselves and their work for it. You know they want things to be Iranian so there needs to be something Iranian in the work, an Iranian element. But if you are European, do they expect the same? If you’re German or if you’re Italian, do they ask why your work doesn’t have those elements? And so people become forced to put these elements in their work; to use Persian text, to make work related to politics, put a chador in it, so that they become accepted as artists. Of course Iran is seen through certain filters and unfortunately this stops new things happening. This is getting better, though; there are some residencies, some more opportunities to open artists up to new experiences. So Sazmanab is at least one place that can do some other things, at least we can try to be in touch with other galleries, institutions, and project spaces to open up this space for alternatives. LSM: Do you see more possibilities or more spaces where this could happen? “Super Sohrab: Project Tophane” titled “Herkes Bir Kahraman Olabilir” (in Turkish. English translation: “Everyone can be a hero”), 2011, Istanbul, Turkey, Photo by Nihan Cetinkaya. 64. SMK: Performance is of course the hardest thing to do, because the government just doesn’t accept it. If you do something there is a high risk you could get arrested. This isn’t going to change anytime soon. Whatever you do it becomes political, from here, on the inside, from the government who are so suspicious, and then from the outside, too, who want to see the political in everything. Whatever you do you’re stuck and frustrated between these two positions. There are a group of people who have been doing public performances, in the street, at a restaurant, without permission, and it is great this is happening, that some sort of performance art is finding it’s way through. There is another group who have been making public art. The risk is less. They go and put a piece of art in an unexpected place. It is the sort of thing that 65. Sohrab M. Kashani “The distance was only geographical.” LSM: Do you think there are more possibilities for different kinds of work, for more conceptual or performance work? Perhaps some of these projects are a little superficial and are still very raw, but people often don’t know what they want and what they are doing with their practice. In my opinion it is a step in the right direction for the future of performance and public art here. My own interest is in social practice, but if there can be some performance in what I do, I am really interested in doing that. But I want that to happen somewhere publicly, not in a gallery space, or just in front of other artists, I want regular people to be able to see that too. #3 — Vol.I No.3 There are more and more artist groups and initiatives, but not project spaces. Artists work at home and they are isolated from each other. It would be great if there were more spaces. I think it would balance out the debate between social practice, performance and live art, and the more commercial art work in most galleries. It would balance out the work that is under the influence of the West and artists that are just interested in what everyone else is doing. is quite simple and happens all over the world, there is not necessarily a big statement behind it, but it is just to make the work, and that is a good thing. q SMK: Unfortunately I don’t see more spaces opening up. I mean, I opened my own space and it is very rewarding and successful, but you also use a lot of your energy, your own money, all of your time. At the same time my own practice has suffered because of it. I don’t have so much time to spend on my own work. Perhaps if I had not spent so much time on the space I would have been more successful as an artist? But I think this happens to everyone who works as a curator/artist, it is natural. Like I said, I can’t have a store front, I can’t advertise, I can’t put up posters, all my publicity is via Facebook. There isn’t enough room for a lot people there, it is an apartment, you have to be aware of the neighbours, all of these problems exist, so really, not everyone is going to be willing to do this here, it is a bit of a self-sacrifice. Endotes 1 http://www.no6gallery.com/ghoori 2 http://sazmanab.org/ 3 http://www.conflictkitchen.org/ Omid Salehi My Car is My Love q Omid Salehi These days there are only a few existing examples of commercial vehicles left whose interiors have been elegantly and lovingly restored by their owners. The reason being their large size and that they are not seen in main city traffic and are more likely to be found in the outer town roads and motorways. However, he owners of such vehicles are avid followers of this particular form of personal interior design. At the same time, other inner city vehicles are not free from this trend and some sort of interior decorating is also popular amongst them. Commercial vehicle drivers elaborately display photographs, tasbeeh (prayer beads), prayers, mottos, names and prose on their windscreens, doors, innerwalls and ceilings of their automobiles or trucks; creating their own varied but private interior space. Images: My Car is My Love, Omid Salehi, 2009 courtesy the artist Text: By Omid Salehi (Translated from Farsi by #3) 67. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Prominent in central Iran is the pictorial display of actresses’ glamour shots on the doors and inner walls of their vehicles. Drivers all over Iran do not necessarily choose the same decors. For example, in Sisstan and Baluchestan pictures of Indian actors and actresses are widely used whereas in other places more religious symbols are used in interior car decorations.The drivers themselves do not express special reasons for what they exhibit apart from making their cars look more beautiful. Nevertheless, the repetition of this act of design is of important significance to them. Ghanei Rad explains how the common factor shared by all the pictures of actresses displayed in some of these cars takes into consideration themes of beauty and innocence that feature in Iranian culture. In his opinion, other factors such as the age of the driver, his marital status and his personal taste play a role for the drivers when choosing these pictures. He believes that In general one can not pass judgement on this pattern of behaviour. One can conclude that the driver wants to declare he is “complete”. He is a complete human being and his interaction with a piece of technology does not change his identity. // My Car is My Love The sociologist and university lecturer, Mohammad Amin Ghanei Rad, has noted that the interaction between Iranians with technology and automobiles is one of the first and most common symbols of technology in Iran. “These Iranians simultaneously feel alienated and in a state of nostalgia towards their cars and in need of domesticating and identifying themselves with this foreign technological object. They try to introduce and put some sort of their identifiable culture and personal taste into their cars”. they are also trying to open up a dialogue and interact with others. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75. q 76. Valeria Bembry Don’t Call it Contemporary: The Market for Iranian Art q The first edition of Art Dubai in 2007 hosted galleries from around the world, and signalled Dubai’s ambition of becoming the global centre of the Middle Eastern art market. The fair opened to optimistic press attention, with professionals and art buyers using the opportunity to foster intercultural dialogue among counterparts throughout the region. Galleries from the Middle East generated most of the sales, though Western galleries made a strong imprint as well. The majority of art sales are generated through two key intermediaries: dealers and auctioneers. Dealers account for the majority of value of transactions in the international art market. 2 Dealers rely on relationship building with and personal patronage by client/collectors and artists in order to develop their businesses. It is expected that dealers possess a certain level of specialised expertise in order to advise clients on acquisitions. The owner of a work of art wishing to sell has four principal options: sale or consignment to or private sale by, an 78. Valeria Bembry Don’t Call it Contemporary: The Market for Iranian Art Since 2006 the international art world witnessed a remarkable rise in commercial interest in the visual arts of the Middle East, in particular Iran. Geopolitics has played a significant role in the region’s attraction. Iranian artists have defined their presence as strong performers in terms of auction sales and exhibition profiles. Much of their success is due to the rise of the United Arab Emirates (UAE) one of the economic engines of the Middle East. Iranian artists have benefited considerably from this expanded art market as the UAE, and Dubai in particular, served as a platform of access into the global art world. This was seen as integral as the political isolation and limitations of an authoritarian government make access beyond borders challenging for many Iranian artists. art dealer; sale or consignment to, or private sale by, and auction house; private sale to a collection or museum without the use of an intermediary.3 The auction house functions as a market valuation system as it is through the evaluation and appraisal by specialists that an artwork or object is ascribed an estimate and then tested in a public sale. Two London-based auction houses currently dominate the UAE market, Christie’s and Bonhams, which, established offices in Dubai in 2005 and 2006 respectively. 4 Sales from the Dubai showrooms specialised in works by Modern and Contemporary artists from the Middle East and North Africa and are successful in fostering a growing demand as well as a significant price inflation. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Recent record-breaking sales and new openings of art institutions in the Middle East publicly manifest a thriving art scene and dynamic art market. How do these developments and institutions affect Iranian art on a global scale? Valeria M. Bembry has tracked the emerging stages of the Middle Eastern Art market from its beginnings and investigates the so-called “Dubai-Effect” on Iranian art. Economic sanctions and a restrictive business environment in Iran are partly responsible for the presence of nearly half a million Iranians currently living in the UAE. Dubai has the largest concentration of Iranian expatriates in the region with about 8,000 Iranian-owned firms registered with the Dubai Chamber of Commerce and Industry. Trade between Iran and the UAE is estimated at $12 billion.5 The wealth generated through business transactions have translated into business in the auction salesrooms and commercial galleries. The rationale behind auctions of Arab and Iranian art in Dubai is to attract collectors from the Middle East and establish prices for artists. Christie’s Dubai and Sotheby’s in London began positioning work by Middle Eastern artists alongside established Western artists, thus imposing an international view of the region’s art onto neophyte collectors.6 The financial strength of the UAE attracted a large number of Iranian nationals, who represent the majority of collectors of Modern and Contemporary art by artists of Iranian heritage. Collection patterns demonstrated an “insatiable” appetite for works by Iranian artists, irrespective of the different styles, mediums and prices. This was a combination of an emotional pull of nostalgia by homesick expatriates and the astute business acumen that contributed to their cultural purchasing power. In a recent interview, Alireza Sami Azar explained that the growing market is due to art being regarded as a means for investment, Iran has a long history of cultural appreciation spanning centuries, however, Dubai’s auctiongenerated cultural boom dramatically changed Iran’s art scene. New galleries have opened and the public are visiting in greater numbers. Returning Iranians, many educated abroad, bring with them a hunger for contemporary art. Having visited museums and galleries in New York, Paris and London, this new generation of post-Revolutionary collectors are among the target market for galleries and auction houses. Since money does not automatically equal taste, or even sense, some affluent Iranians attempt to keep up with the Abbasis, Pahlavis or Hosseinis, collecting whatever ‘name’ they 79. Valeria Bembry Don’t Call it Contemporary: The Market for Iranian Art The auction houses made superstars out of Iranian artists like Farhad Moshiri (b. 1963), the first artist from the Middle East to sell a work of art at auction for over $1 million. His work, Eshgh (2007) sold for $1,048,000 (incl. premium) on 3 March 2007 at Bonham’s Dubai, a record that was surpassed by Parviz Tanavoli (b.1937), who made his record-breaking Dubai auction debut in April 2008 with the sale of The Wall (Oh Persepolis) for $2.8 million (incl. premium) at Christie’s. Christie’s initially projected sales of $30 million in 3 years, yet in just 24 months they surpassed that projection by 30%. According to ArtTactic, the volume of sale of Arab and Iranian Art has increased from $2 million in 2006 to $35.7 million in 2008.9 Iranian artists, such as Parviz Tanavoli, Charles Hossein Zenderoudi (b.1937, Tehran), Farhad Moshiri, and Mohammad Ehsai (b. 1939) dominate the Modern and Contemporary Arab and Iranian auctions (74% at Christie’s and 64% at Bonhams) as does New York-based Shirin Neshat (b. 1957) whose works have sold, for up to six figures, at auctions in New York and London. #3 — Vol.I No.3 therefore possessing a financial aspect, rather than being purely cultural or philanthropic.7 Though there are genuinely impassioned collectors with a long family history of collecting, there are a few upstarts who make speculative purchases with the expectation of profiting from upward changes in prices for “hot” artists in the future by selling the work at a later date. 8 Such activity runs the risk of “burning” an artists’ intrinsic value and thus cannibalising a nascent market that collectors are purported to support. can pull out of an auction catalogue without developing a knowledge of the creative value or background of the works. One such collector admitted her disdain for some artworks she owns, yet, since her friends collect the “same kind of paintings”, she “had to pay a fortune” for two similar paintings over her fireplace.10 Iran is a country divided: on the one hand most Iranians are concerned about food security, rising prices and unemployment, yet, record oil prices have enhanced the spending power of the country’s elites11, for whom even the USbacked economic sanctions appears to have little effect as they can now chose to invest their money in art from local galleries since they are thwarted from investing abroad from within Iran. Artists have been leaving Iran for over 30 years in either elective or imposed exile. Working conditions for artists have deteriorated since the 2005 election of Mahmoud Amadinejad, who reversed the “golden age of expression” that existed under the presidency of Mohammed Khatami. Though it is sometimes ignored, artists are now required to have permits in order to make and exhibit works, those who do try to apply notice that fewer permits are being issued. One area of the local art scene that appears to flourish despite (or because of) restrictions is the contemporary photography community. Newsha Tavakolian (b. 1981) is a Tehran-based photojournalist who found an outlet in fine art after, she, like many photojournalists, experienced restrictions on her press activities after the June 2009 elections. She chose to use photography as a social documentary tool that highlights critiques of contemporary Iranian society.12 The artists who chose to remain must balance the extant restrictions with their convictions. Rather than being repressive and stifling, some artists find their environment to be a source of creative inspiration as echoed by Shahpour Pouyan, “My work is completely dependent on Iranian and Middle Eastern cultural factors.”13 The “Dubai-Effect” of auction records have boosted domestic interest in works by Iranian artists. The first reaction was for less-confident artists and gallerists to try to emulate popular trends and raise their prices in response the record-breaking (and skyrocketing) sales figures achieved in Dubai. Other artist chose Museums and public cultural institutions provide a vital duty serving as the ‘final repository for works with validated reputations, some entering the primers of art history’.18 The also provide a platform for public education, critical analysis and reflection among the public, academic, and artistic communities. The Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art, founded in 1977 and currently holds one of the finest 80. Valeria Bembry Don’t Call it Contemporary: The Market for Iranian Art The structure of the cultural and market value mechanism for art in the Middle East varies from that in Europe and America, where museums and public arts institutions serve as a cultural preserve with the power to validate an artist’s creative virtuosity. In this case the public sector provides a high symbolic value by leveraging credibility to art and artists, while also preventing through selection and in conjunction with the commercial art world, the market from becoming overloaded, a situation that would lead to a fall in art’s economic value.17 Conversely, one of the dangers of the brisk activity in the Middle East is a scarcity of institutions with the expertise and critical professional skills and scholarship required to maintain the viability and quality of the local markets. This void leaves only news of auction records, prices, parties and money. #3 — Vol.I No.3 to reinforce the stereotype of what “Iran” is (and sells)-chadors, gender wars and artfully drawn letters otherwise known as “The Money Making Persian Calligraphy”. 14 A refreshing group of artists are leaving that trend behind as they create ground breaking work that not only questions the wisdom of a system that claims divine rule (both the art market and the Islamic republic) and deals with subjects that go beyond longstanding clichés about the Iranian condition.15 Iran needs Dubai, the UAE’s most extravagant city-state has a more or less transparent market economy and a degree of personal freedom rarely found elsewhere in the Middle East outside Israel and Lebanon. The government doesn’t micromanage the personal lives of its citizens, nor does it smother the economy with heavy state socialism.16 This is the environment where the auctions, art fairs and galleries flourished and provided a platform closer to home for Iranian artists. However, though Dubai is the engine of the Middle Eastern art world, it should not be the sole conductor. collections of Post-Impressionist, Modern and Contemporary art and hosts exhibitions by internationally recognised Iranian artists. Galleries host events, talks and “meet the artist” sessions. Tehran’s vibrant cultural scene could hardly be called a “contemporary” phenomenon, has weathered 30 years of political and economic flux and still retains the raw materials to maintain its internal creative communities that are still in development in the Gulf States. Mathaf is here, the Guggenheim and Louvre are in progress as museums of the future and time will tell how they will proceed to contribute to the validation of contemporary artists and maintain the legacy of the Arab and Iranian Modern masters. In the 2008 documentary, The Mona Lisa Curse, critic Robert Hughes called the art world the “second least unregulated market after the drugs”.19 This leaves plenty of room for ‘art experts’, ‘specialists’ and ‘consultants’ to serve as “advisors”. In the West validation is conferred through a series of reviews, first by peers, then writers/critics before attracting the attention of curators, who will invite artists to exhibit in shows that are attended by the public (among them the art historians and collectors who weigh their merit against an encyclopaedic memory of experiences and knowledge). This process is, for the most part, independent and not governed by personal connections. However there is a real risk that talented artists are overlooked because they have not tapped into one of the regional art world gatekeeper cliques. For example, the Cairo Biennale was criticised over its selection process, which reflects taste of a narrow group of individuals running the country’s major cultural institutions.20 This is how not to develop a strong but diverse contribution to the cannon of global art history. Dubai’s growth and prosperity benefited from the contributions of the expatriate Iranian business community. The size of this community and the rising personal wealth among the other foreign and royal households in the UAE opened up opportunities for luxury companies and high-net-worth service providers to open up offices and boutiques. The auction houses took advantage of this and expanded their market to a growing group of consumers now interested in the purchase Valeria Bembry of cultural commodities, many of which flow forth from Iran. It remains to be seen whether this boom in Iranian art is sustainable in the commercial art world or if it is a bubble waiting to burst under the weight of pride. q Endnotes 1 Also known as ‘gallerists’. ‘Art consultants’ occasionally operate in a commercial capacity when facilitating sales between dealers and collectors, collecting a fee from a percentage of the transaction. 3 Ibid, p 64 Sotheby’s opened an office in Doha, Qatar in late 2009 5 As of 2010. This figure is estimated to drop due to the United States’ increased pressure on Emirati authorities to adhere to sanctions imposed on the Iranian government 6 Robertson, Iain. A New Art From Emerging Markets. Lund Humpheries (Surrey 2011) p 111 7 Mostafavi, Ramin. Iranian painters turn golden pages of new chapter. Reuters Life! http://www.reuters.com/article/2011/05/25/ us-iran-art-idUSTRE74O2I120110525 25 May 2011. Accessed 27 June 2011. Don’t Call it Contemporary: The Market for Iranian Art 2 Robertson, Iain and Derrick Chong, eds. The Art Business. Routledge (Abingdon 2008) p 6 12 Artist in conversation with Malu Halasa at a Prince Claus Fund-sponsored event at Neiuwe Kerk, Amsterdam, 24 February 2011. 8 This practice is known as ‘flipping’, a real estate term where property is purchased and held for a period of time to be sold for profit during market upswings. 81. 15 Ibid. 16 Totten, Michael, J. The Dubai Effect. http:// www.michaeltotten.com/archives/2009/11/ the-dubai-effec.php 29 November 2009 Accessed 29 June 2011 17 Robertson, Iain, ed. Understanding International Art Markets and Management. Routledge (London 2005) 19 Broadcast date: 21 September 2008, Channel 4 20 Robertson. A New Art…p 112 #3 — Vol.I No.3 11 Iran has the world’s third largest oil reserves (would rank second if Canada’s reserves of unconventional oil are excluded) 14 Title of an installation piece displayed at the Saatchi Gallery in October 2010 by Mahmoud Bakhshi (b. 1977). Transliterated from the original Persian 18 Robertson, Iain. The Art Business. Routledge (Abingdon, 2005) 9 ArtTactic. Middle East Modern and Contemporary Art. Market Update. October 2008. 10 Mostafavi. 13 Rezaian, Jason. Inside Iran: the art of resistance- the paintings. Global Post http:// www.globalpost.com/dispatch/news/regions/ middle-east/110418/iran-protest-art-musicresistance-2 19 April 2011. Accessed 26 April 2011 Barbad Golshiri For They Know What They Do Know q Making art, as I’ve always put it, is a habit - a poor one in my case. Making art is not initially creation but constant repetition, salvaged by making puny differences in certain orders on the plane of the feasible. Art is, semiotically speaking, purely negative; it cannot be defined positively. And of course doing it entails not doing something else. Like some of my Iranian colleagues, I’m not doing it these days. We have all seen frames that we can freeze, stick to, and damn. Barring whatever may cross the thresholds of our studios and whatever may enframe and transcend what has been going on in the streets of Iran, perhaps the same thing crossed each of our minds: we have no future. Certainly we are also established abroad and we can have our own futures beyond these walls, but I’m speaking of those like me who have refused to leave the country and who have decided not to become one more seated in Matisse’s easy chair, chanting “I will rebuild you my country with these tears,” or one more dissolved in the out-of-context souks of the UAE. We have chosen to breathe hatred, tear and pepper gas, instead of hanging onto nostalgia and the myths of exile and of “the innocent artist.” So it’s true to say that in the eclipse of relative political freedom and under the oligarchy and inquisitions of the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance, we – like millions of Iranian citizens – have planned our to-be by abandoning “labor” and “work” in favor of “action.” Barbad Golshiri Positions June 2009 The E Word I assume that today we are all familiar with the terms “exotic” and “exoticism.” We usually take them to be successors to nineteenthcentury Orientalism, but exoticism today is much more complex than Ingres’ or Renoir’s Odalisques. There are those in my circle who have condemned many artists by labeling them “exotic.” And my colleagues and I have been swearing at each other using the E word. I do not agree that being exotic proceeds from some sort of defect, for you may use local motifs in your work, and that may appear exotic to tourists or those curators who come mining. Hence exoticism has little to do with being exotic; it is rather a trend that operates within an ideological apparatus. The contemporary Iranian art scene is not to be underestimated. Recent auction results stand as testament to the global acknowledgement of the vitality of Iranian art, with artists such as Shirazeh Houshiary, Shirin Neshat, Parviz Tanavoli and Farhad Moshiri commanding record prices at sales around the world. 2 Maliha Al Tabari, the managing director of ArtSpace Middle East Gallery, admits that “typically, the people who buy from us are the kind that can definitely afford it . . . mostly they are people in the banking industry.” She continues, “I’ve been in Dubai for six years and I came when there was almost no art . . . 83. #3 — Vol.I No.3 For They Know What They Do Know With these words, I would also like to dedicate this paper to all my compatriots and – for the reasons discussed in this paper (and not to be auctioned in October at Christie’s), and because in a situation where even e-flux is sending a petition to the UNO and the EU, Magic of Persia is still financially thinking pink – I declare that as one of the seven finalists for the Magic of Persia Art Prize (MopCap)1 I strongly denounce their criteria and withdraw my works, for as they would have it: I have participated in several events and contributed to publications devoted to socalled contemporary Iranian art, the Tehran contemporary art scene, or new art from the Middle East. Today every schoolchild knows that the recent increase in interest in the region stems from the catastrophic geopolitical state of affairs in my country and in those of its neighbors, and also from the brand new art market in the United Arab Emirates. Bonhams Dubai, for instance, reportedly broke thirty-three world records at their $13 million Inaugural Middle East Auction. That was almost three times the expected result, with a phenomenal 94% of lots sold.3 I’m not saying Orientalism is no longer a force; on the contrary, today the market is much more hungry for exotic commodities and, at least in Iran, one of the leading trends in art is decorative calligraphy and a modernist approach to patriarchal heritage. Parviz Tanavoli’s Oh Persepolis, which sold at Christie’s Dubai for $2,841,000, 3 is an example of this trend. His works, like what was being sold at Saatchi’s gift shop during its recent “Unveiled” Exhibition (such as “mouse rugs”), are exotic rather than exoticist. Today Farhad Moshiri is the most in-demand Iranian artist on the market. His Eshgh (love) was auctioned by Bonhams and sold for over $1 million. Barbad Golshiri We were trying hard to sell pieces by Farhad Moshiri for about $2,000 (Dh7,500) or $3,000 (Dh11,000) – now his work is worth $200,000 (Dh740,000) or $300,000 (Dh1.1 million).”5 Middle East: The Floating Signifier The Middle East does not exist geographically not just because it’s constructed and still seen from a Eurocentric viewpoint – for a Chinese person it is located to the west, for a Russian to the south – but also because we cannot define its borders and areas, that is to say, we cannot designate a unified object. UN analysts often use relatively more descriptive terms such as “Near East.” They also refer to it using the term “Western Asia,” but on the UN’s official website Iran is not a part of Western Asia but rather Southern Asia. This is not what Mahan desired: “Western Asia” now includes Armenia 84. For They Know What They Do Know The region was constructed in the nineteenth century, the term coined in the British India Office, the department responsible for administering the Indian subcontinent during the British Reign (Raj, 1757–1947), and later popularized by Captain Alfred Thayer Mahan. Mahan chose this geographical term for the areas surrounding the Persian Gulf – what Gamal Abdel Nasser later called the Arabian Gulf: both sides are still vying for control of the name. Mahan believed that, after the Suez Canal, the Gulf was the most strategic route for any British attempt to stop the Russians from advancing towards India. It would be intolerable if the holy places of the Middle East should be subjected to a rule that glorifies atheistic materialism.6 #3 — Vol.I No.3 The use of the term “Middle East” does not date back to prehistory, and it has little to do with the Achaemenid Persian Empire, Babylon, or the Herat School of Painting. Like “Eastern European Countries,” the Middle East does not exist geographically. “West” and “East” too are not merely geographical terms; the Orient, for instance, has odd connotations – “oriental martial arts” never refers to Turkish or Iranian traditional martial arts, for example, and the case is the same for “oriental massage.” And in pornography “Asian teens” are neither Lebanese, nor Iranian, nor indeed Afghan. and Azerbaijan, both once Russian. The United States government first used the term “Middle East” when in their eyes an opposing force was growing in the region, namely, Communism (or “Atheism,” as Eisenhower put it). As the region is the site of a large percentage of the world’s oil production, the Eisenhower Administration saw the growth of Communism in the region as a serious threat towards the U.S. and its spiritual or anti-communist allies’ “economic life and political prospects.” Let us cite his “Special Message to the Congress on the Situation in the Middle East”: In his speech Eisenhower is really concerned with three major, interconnected matters: oil, independence, and spirituality. These three matters and “non-matters” meet again in Ahmadinejad and in Iranian spiritual and official artists. What is this restless attempt to maintain consistency for the Middle East, since – to borrow Lévi-Strauss’ term – it is but a “floating signifier”? 7 In 2004 the Bush Administration coined the terms “Greater Middle East,” “New Middle East,” and “Broader Middle East.” According to U.S. administration preparatory work for the thirtieth G8 summit, this wider region includes “the Arab states, Israel, Turkey, Iran, Pakistan and Afghanistan. Some pundits go further and include all of Central Asia or the Caucasus.”8 Perhaps one day museums and galleries will start vying for exhibitions devoted to what the Bush Administration sought to encompass. Why do we need to keep the Name, even though its referent has been changing geographically ever since the day of its baptism; even though it does not signify a cluster of descriptive features and subsequently does not refer to an object in reality or at minimum a geographically, politically, socioculturally, and economically circumscribed region – in brief, a “sense” that does not possess an extension of descriptive “references”? The name has not designated the same object and the word has been transmitted from subject to subject while the object has been changing. Over time the signifier has been preserved. If we try to fill the void today Most of the exhibitions, panels, and conferences that we find more radical than the import/export art scene of Dubai, its related auctions and numerous art fairs, are those whose curators and organizers have begun by opposing the “mainstream,” so-called “Western media representation.” All these programmes speak of cutting-edge works of art produced “in the region.” The common achievement of all these discourses – those that try to constitute political, cultural or geographical “identity” for the baptized object beyond its ever-changing descriptions – is: there really is a Middle East; that the Middle East is for real. They all try to designate what – in their eyes – has always been there. This is the omnipresent characteristic of all those efforts that operate retroactively. 85. Barbad Golshiri For They Know What They Do Know Attributed to Shirin Negar, Khotan Khatoun or The Dagger Dance, 1840. The Museum of Fine Arts, Saadabad Palace, Tehran “Arab” as the One So what is keeping this borderless region or, should I say, this void, full or consistent, if full or consistent is what it is? For this we should examine the common experience of its given reality which, like any other historic reality, achieves its identity and unity through the mediation of a signifier that can symbolize our experience of its meaning. When, from time to time, institutions, museums, galleries and their curators, while trying to fill this void, to locate and determine “the region,” make grave mistakes, they are actually symbolizing diverse geopolitical and sociocultural experiences. Saatchi’s newsletter for the “Unveiled” exhibition is a good example: On 30 January the Saatchi Gallery’s second show, Unveiled: New Art from the Middle East, will open, presenting the work of over 20 of the region’s most exciting artists. Dedicated to the flourishing contemporary Arabic art scene, the exhibition will offer a cutting edge survey of recent painting, sculpture and installation. 9 Rokni Haerizadeh, Dagger Dance, 2008. Acryclic on canvas, 200 cm x 200 cm. Image courtesy of the Saatchi Gallery, London. ©Rokni Haerizadeh, 2011 And in the exhibition’s picture by picture guide, concerning Rokni Haerizadeh’s Dagger Dance, it is written: #3 — Vol.I No.3 with positive cultural or geographical realities, we are – again – designating an empty signifier in a “retroactive” manner, that is to say, we constitute the name after we’re in it – after politics has already shaped the name. Dancing with swords is a traditional custom throughout the Arab world, usually performed by women as part of a wedding ceremony. Haerizadeh delivers this scene with the vivid exoticism of Matisse or Gauguin, his bold colours, heavy When the holders of such discourses – those who designate the region as the “Middle East” by abandoning dissimilar qualities, homogenizing and producing a unified entity such as “Arabic” – hand on to us certain signifiers as “the Signified,” they in fact nourish certain systems of belief and ideological maxims. The main achievement of all these unavoidable gaffes, unbeknownst to their agents, is that it is the imaginary other that calls for “thereness” and seeks objectivity, be it paradoxical, undemocratic, or simply bullshit. It’s the same with our politicians: the leaders have been speaking of “the Enemy” ever since the revolution, and the slogan has been “neither East, nor West, the Islamic Republic [only].” But every day when we were at school we had to trample something underfoot, even if it was just an Israeli or American flag painted on schoolyard pavement. The ideological apparatus does not welcome Turkish artists so often. Although Turks are geographically represented as inhabitants of the region, they are not that Arab or that Muslim or that fanatic anymore (needless to say, today “Arab” and “Muslim,” the “Arab world” and the “Muslim world” – thanks to common sense – refer to one another and can be used interchangeably), even though the Ottoman Empire was supposed to be the center of the socalled Islamic World. We do not see very many 86. Barbad Golshiri Turkish artists in the exhibitions devoted to “the region,” for, since Atatürk, there are serious social and even military forces perceived as absolute defenders of secularism.11 Remember that Turkey is potentially an EU member and a NATO partner. It’s not just unscholarly curatorial texts (such as Saatchi’s) that permit such homogenizations; some political analysts, in discussing “The Greater Middle East,” refer to the Arab states alone, and for the American government, in its proposal presented to that G8 summit, “Arabs’” problems are the region’s problems.12 For They Know What They Do Know Why is the catalogue also in Arabic? Where does “the flourishing contemporary Arabic art scene” come from when eleven of the twentyone artists are Iranians? Perhaps one has to be a Panofskian iconologist to tell the differences between Yemeni, Turkmen, and Qajar courtier dagger dancers, but Haerizadeh has in any event had recourse to a very illustrious hypotext, known to anyone who has skimmed through a concise history of Persian painting (see below). It’s true to say that these are neither blunders nor a matter of opinion; they derive, rather, from certain varieties of doxa. “Arab” is there to cut the chain of signifiers, and thus serve as the ultimate point of reference. It operates effectively when we say – like Tom Cruise when he spoke about the policy of Scientology, “this is it, this is exactly it.” #3 — Vol.I No.3 outlines, and opulent patterning re-appropriating the tradition of “orientalism.”10 To construct this “real” other, there is surely a need for an “us and them,” an old discourse to which I do not wish to reduce my theory; that is the very discourse of otherness in which others are simply those excluded. This discourse assumes that cultural units, social organizations, ethnicities, and races are privileged and maintained through different processes of exclusion and opposition based on a straightforward dualism.13 “Middle East” has so often been filled with another void, with an empty signifier which operates as the last signified: Arab. In an international biennial, an artist who could only read and write in French was insistent that he was just an Arab; seen wearing only his undershirt, belching throughout the biennale, his answer to each and every complaint was: Quoi? Je suis arabe! Being an Arab has little to do with one’s genes, the degree of pigmentation, location or language; and, of course, it is not about diverse Arabic dialects and descendants; it is neither about secular Nasserism nor about Islam. The experiences of Arabité as historical meaning can only take place on an ideological plane. “Arab” does not designate a real object and has no rigid point of reference; it is itself the Referent, i.e., a knot that, when multiple signifiers are floating in discursive fields, intervenes and stops their slide. Since the “Middle East” does not exist in a geographical space but only on an ideological plane, and is more concrete than the heap of its referents, eventually it is unified and identified through the agency of a master-signifier: “Arab” is there to unify dissimilar historical realities through “Arab” appears to connote a cluster of quasidescriptive features: Muslim, anti-Semite, stinky, outlandish, undemocratic, vigorous, rambunctious, camel-riding, bearded or veiled, a man with a long circumcised penis: in brief, the new Jew. It is certain politics, migrations, terrorist activities, and the “democracy imposing” invasions that permit such connotations. And the reign of common sense can be perceived in a simple tautological assertion: we say they are as such because they are Arabs.14 Arabité is a vacuum that gulps down certain connotations. Here the Middle East is the world’s most stinky part, or the pain in the world’s arse, or, to borrow Mohamed Sid-Ahmed’s words, “a mainstay of world terrorism.” 15 The dark side of the globe, like the anus, has its fabulous obscurities and is full of mysticism, for there should be more in it than a hole. Today, Iran is the most strategically important country in this region; it is the alma mater of all the evils around it; it spreads cockroaches (remember how the Rwandan radio station RTLM referred to Tutsis) and embraces curators willingly. Barbad Golshiri For They Know What They Do Know symbolization. The name “Arab” has been extravagantly saturated not because it is the richest word, but because it is empty. For the Name is prerequisite: we need it to accumulate our heap retroactively, a paradoxical heap of others. And, in brief, we need it to unify a mass. This does not only suggest that a social bond is there, allowing one to refer to this full-empty entity by uttering the Name, but beyond this, it reveals the reign of the commonsensical. 87. All these mechanisms have something in common; they all create or – unbeknownst to their agents – support the constructed mass by attributing to it an ethnic, geographic, cultural, or political reality to homogenize diversity and difference. For instance, take Shirin Neshat’s answer to why she has hung onto “Chador art”: In Iran, the chador is reality. That’s just the way people dress. Or at least some people. 16 Or a curator’s note on Shirin Aliabadi’s Miss Hybrid series: Shirin Aliabadi’s photographs capture the desire of today’s Iranian women to reshape their image – transforming themselves as acts of cultural rebellion.17 #3 — Vol.I No.3 Today it’s hard to recognize Arabs, not just because they are everywhere, but also because they’re like “us” – they no longer “go to school every day by camel.” How does art support the quasi-tautological assertion that says “there is a Middle East because there are Arabs living there and they are Arabs because they live in the Middle East?” Saatchi’s newsletter was a simple example, but we should not overlook the fact that there are artists supporting such claims. I have distinguished a few dominant orientations in Tehran’s Art scene of today (let us not call it contemporary). Among these, the art market has chosen a certain trend: aestheticization of stereotypes. Many have said that this exoticism functions as abjection. In contrast with Catherine David, I insist that we should not call it self-abjection or self-exoticism, for although the subject of abjection, the exoticist, is an inhabitant of the altered territory, and although unanimity and hegemony have constructed a vague, abstract, and paradoxical whole (a “we”), the artist usually extracts himself/ herself from this mass to enframe it from afar. This gives way to a “beautiful mind” and lets the artist be both insider and outsider. For we should not overlook the ambivalent nature of abjection – abjection is letting go of something we still keep. We recognize semen, excrement, or dismembered organs as once being parts of ourselves – they are dismembered bits of us. As I have said before, the altered territory is an unreal mass, it’s a façade. The aforementioned trend represents this façade. Among Iranianborn artists, the pioneer, we know, is Neshat, but today she’s important precisely because her works have aestheticized this façade to such an extreme degree. When I told her this, she claimed that there’s nothing wrong with this, for she’s an admirer of beauty and chadors make beautiful shapes. Here we deal with art’s oldest platitude, its ancient auxiliary and appurtenance: beauty. In her recent photographs – like her most famous series, “Women of Allah” – Neshat has used Persian writing. Of course it’s much more difficult to analyze serious egalitarian movements in Iran than to add to common beliefs, and for Neshat too it would have been an onerous task to analyze Forough Farrokhzad’s intertextuality and search for the roots of her poetry in The Wasteland. I’m not saying that she has intentionally chosen to portray the poet as a fragile, mesmerized woman, for in The Last Word (2003) it is not just Neshat, Barbara Gladstone, or Shoja Azari “speaking”; it is the common wisdom; it is platitude that calls for delicacy and the myth of Beauty. And of course to satisfy this need for beauty one need not search in vain; samples are already there: a hammam with naked women (remember Ingres), and then we insert an anorexic naked girl taken from the “No Anorexia” poster to 88. Barbad Golshiri For They Know What They Do Know The success of Ghazel, another Iranian artist based in Paris, lies in nourishing common sense and adopting various strands of doxa. In her videos the chador, the most inspiring cliché, embraces all dilemmas: for Iranian women, feminist activities are unlikely, because the chador will not let them climb up a standard truck step, and Iranian activists perceive feminism as lumpen illiterate people do, as tantamount to manhood. But it is Ghazel’s video which resides in an ideological field, from where she perceives feminist activism as exerting “manly qualities.” Let us remember that the feminist movement in Iran has been one of the most active movements demanding changes to discriminatory laws. According to the Barbican Cinema, she’s “reflecting on social and gender issues in Iran,”20 but the way she ridicules feminism is the same way official agents of ideology mock these demands in Iran. oppose Orientalist imagery! And it’s for the sake of beautification that, for the film Munis, she bought her cloud scene from Getty Images. It is “Everyone” that would say, “that is beautiful indeed.” Unanimity #3 — Vol.I No.3 In this piece, language has lost its function and carries the charm of the unfamiliar, and so becomes mere exotic ornament. What is there for anyone who can read Persian? Neshat has employed such an excess of superfluous and incorrect diacritics that no one is able to pronounce her words. These are no longer words but ornaments, knick-knacks, and an answer to the market’s demand for the “arabesque” and Arabic letters without knowing what they are.18 Especially in Dubai, there is a constant call for calligraphy, no matter what the text reads.19 The exoticist product is an ideological parole – this is the definition of façade. An ideology maintains its consistency when it stops meaning from sliding about. Such paroles impose signifieds to pin the supposedly openended meaning down. Unanimity or absolute concord entails a belief in the naturalness of this signification. Surprisingly exoticists are famous for being subversive artists, but as mentioned earlier, their products are paroles of the same langue, the language of an ideological regime. The way Neshat treats the chador is the way the culture factory of the Islamic Republic beautifies its restrictions; they too aestheticize the veil in their murals, posters, and slogans. For them, a woman in a veil is like a pearl in its shell. The apparatus too is similar (compare Ghazel’s videos with posters and slogans of the regime: “The veil is serenity” is as ideological as “the veil is THE problem”). Ghadirian’s Like Everyday Series (2001–2) is an accumulation of ideological paroles and is an exemplar of exoticism as a trend. The Like Everyday Series shows women in chador with their faces veiled by domestic appliances: one should not forget that Muslim or Iranian women are just identical housewives. And it’s important to repeat this in different photos because ideological utterances resemble moral judgments and religious prayers, for they restlessly seek unanimous approval. Her Qajar series embraces “our anachronistic life” as common wisdom does: Westoxication.20 Westoxication is not a harmless theory, today, in the Stalinist show trials of the Iranian regime, reformists have to defend themselves against westoxication as a charge. The veil has become the easiest way for an artist to promote his/her work. Another Iranian artist has produced a film to promote her art. After she shows an archive of her different projects and works, she shows herself in high heels wearing a headscarf standing by a closet. Barbad Golshiri She enters the chamber and frees her hair from the scarf and the door closes dramatically. This symbolic act has nothing to offer Iranian society, as she never performed it within the society. This was just marketing. answer Dubai Tourism has given to “Why Dubai?”: “captivating contrasts.” Now we understand that a narrow view is not only due to naïveté; it is also what an ideological system has to offer. But the common result of this trend is not only the simplification of dilemmas, which makes people more docile and mediocre, or the aestheticization of façades, reinforcing the idea that there is a homogenous region and that the mass is for real; beyond these, the praxis of art is disturbed because refiguration is no longer a vital issue. This is again how an ideological utterance castrates thinking when pinning down meaning. When foreseeable, the “doxical” and its audience give each other standing ovations, for they understand each other; for “they know what they mean.” In certain species of doxa, ideological values, historical phenomena – which have come to function as realities – recognize themselves. Michael Irving Jensen has chosen one of Aliabadi’s Miss Hybrid pieces for the website www.middleeastawareness.dk. The answer to the question “Why Shirin Ali-Abadi?” is the 89. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Shadi Ghadirian, Farhad Moshiri, Ghazel, and Shirin Ali-Abadi perpetuate the dominant image in a very direct way; no pentimenti or “curvatures” are there to be seen. They take advantage of doxa and hegemony and submit to it in the name of subversion. For They Know What They Do Know Shadi Ghadirian, Like Everyday #2, 2000. C-print, 50 cm x 50 cm. Courtesy the artist. Shadi Ghadirian, Untitled (Qajar Series), 1998. Gelatin-silver bromide print, 25 cm x 20 cm. Courtesy the artist. The media today typically uses such contrasts in representing Iran. In March 2006, Susan Loehr’s reportage on ARTE television’s “Metropolis” programme begins by showing such captivating contrasts as veiled “chicks” wearing extravagant makeup with dyed hair, standing before murals of martyrs’ portraits, or a mullah speaking on his mobile phone. Then the narrator tells us that we’re used to such representations, but today they are going to show us something different. 22 Shirin Ali-Abadi not only perpetuates the pictorial representation served up by CNN or VOA 23 , but also follows the Islamic Republic’s discourse of “cultural invasion of the West”: that young Iranian people are having an identity crisis; that they are no longer identical with themselves; that they cannot be themselves. Since this series by Ali-Abadi – as an ideological and propagandistic commodity – is produced in order to be consumed immediately, she is not about to content herself with the mediocre pictorial representation of this ideology, and so entitles the series “Miss Hybrid.” The same can be said with regard to Shahram Entekhabi’s Islamic Vogue. Instead of piercing holes in the overlooked, unsymbolized (or at least less symbolized) realities relating to subcategories of those ideological maxims and the commonsensical, these artists acted unanimously and transmitted their messages at the behest of a closed society, a privileged and established clan. The agents of ethnic marketing won out over dissident narratives and became part of the hegemonic discourse, not because their narratives were better able to match the “facts,” but because they were better able to fulfill the desire for predictability and were indeed much better able to answer the demands of a huge number of potential customers. And that’s what exoticism is: the representation and production of ideological commodities and symbolizing parts of a culture for consumption by those consumers who wish to reinforce their identical positive identities by way of stigmatizing others. Barbad Golshiri Among Ayatollah Khomeini’s catchwords and slogans was “unity of words” or unanimity. With this he drew a boundary between “us” and “them,” reined in diversity, and nipped pluralism in the bud in the very beginning of the Islamic Revolution. 24 Unanimity is absolute concord and harmony. When unanimous, everybody is believed to be of the same mind and acting together as an undiversified whole, as an “army of 20 million,” as Khomeini had put it. 4 This is a record for a sculpture by an Iranian artist, a world auction record for a work of art by any Middle Eastern artist and the highest price achieved for a work of art sold at auction in Dubai. Christies, “Arab, Iranian & Turkish Art (Modern & Contemporary): Exceptional P r i c e s , ” h t t p : //w w w. c h r i s t i e s . c o m /d e p artments/modern-and-contemporary-arabandiranian-art/. 5 Shehab Hamad, “Dubai Art Maket’s [sic] Future,” S3AF: Middle East Art. News and Commentary, January 1, 2009, http://s3af. c o m /i n d e x . p hp/n e w s/m i d d l e - e a s t- a r tnews/134dubai-art-makets-future. 6 The American Presidency Project, “6 -Special Message to the Congress on the Situation in the Middle East. January 5, 1957,” University of California, Santa Barbara, http://www. presidency.ucsb.e du/ws/index.php?pid=11007. #3 — Vol.I No.3 // q 90. 1 The Magic of Persia Contemporary Art Prize presents itself as “the first international award devoted to contemporary art of Iran, dedicated to the works and talents of emerging Iranian artists”. It should be noted that, in reference to the rest of this article, that the winner of the prize will be offered a solo exhibition at the Royal College of Art (RCA), at the Saatchi gallery and two other locations in London. The art works made available at auction at Christie’s. 3 Bonhams, “Bonhams Dubai Breaks ThirtyThree World Records At $13M Inaugural Middle East Auction,” no date, http://www.bonhams. com/cgi-bin/public.sh/pubweb/publicSi te.r?s Continent=EUR&screen=HeadlineDetails&iHe adlineNo=3427 (accessed August 22, 2009). All of these artists are still inhaling doxa and are becoming more and more hegemonic, but in contrast with official or governmental artists, they are praised in the name of subversion. They should fight with monsters, yet it’s true that “whoever fights with monsters should see to it that he does not become one himself. And when you stare a long time into an abyss, the abyss stares back into you.”25 This article originally appeared in e-flux journal September, 2009. It appears here courtesy of the author. ENDNOTES 2 Magic of Persia Contemporary Art Prize, “About,” http://www.mopcap.com/about. For They Know What They Do Know The Abyss 7 First used in Claude Lévi-Strauss, “Introduction à l’oeuvre de Marcel Mauss,” in Sociologie et anthropologie, by Marcel Mauss, (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 1950). 9 Since I was a participant myself, I received the announcement much before the opening via email. Here ‘the flourishing contemporary art scene’ is quoted: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/ hi/i n_pictures/7855596.stm Barbad Golshiri 8 Völker Perthes, “America’s ‘Greater Middle East’ and Europe: Key Issues for Dialogue,” Middle East Policy Council Journal XI, no. 3 (Fall 2004). 19 Agents and consultants of an auction visited an Iranian abstract painter. They told him “your paintings are really beautiful but we can sell them only if you use a bit of calligraphy.” 11 Kemal Atatürk did not want to mix politics with militarism. 14 Žižek believes such appearance of tautology is false because “Arab” (“Jew” in his text) in “because they are Jews” “does not connote a series of effective properties, it refers again to that unattainable X.” Slavoj Žižek, “Che Vuoi?,” in The Sublime Object of Ideology (London: Verso, 1999) 96–7. 20 See http://www.barbican.org.uk/theatre/ event-detail.asp?ID=8 162. For They Know What They Do Know 13 In this discourse we could have said that the excluded are befriended only by and through Orientalism. 21 Like any other narrative absorbed into common sense, “westoxication” or “Occidentosis” was once a theory. For example, see Jalal Ale Ahmad, Occidentosis: A Plague from the West (Gharbzadegi), trans. R. Campbell (Berkeley, CA: Mizan Press, 1983). 22 See http://www.arte.tv/de/navigation /1164114.html. 23 I should say that after our recent riots and protests this imagery has changed. 24 This led to the execution of thousands in one summer and offered up an archetypal embodiment of Heterotopia: Khavaran cemetery. 25 Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, ed. Rolf-Peter Horstmann and Judith Norman, trans. Judith Norman (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002) 69. #3 — Vol.I No.3 15 Mohamed Sid-Ahmed, “On the Greater Middle East,” Al-Ahram Weekly 679, February 26–March 3, 2004). 91. 17 “Made in Iran” exhibition flyer, 24th June – 11th July 2009, curated by Arianne Levene andÉglantine de Ganay, Asia House, London. 18 In 2002, when I showed What Has Befallen Us, Barbad? in New York, it was written here and there that the locks of hair in the piece resemble arabesque calligraphy. 10 ‘Unveiled: New Art from the Middle East’ Picture by Picture Guide. (no further information was indicated) 12 The London-based Arabic daily Al-Hayat obtained a copy of the proposal and published the document in its entirety on February 13, 2004; the English translation was later published by Al-Hayat on its Web site, and is available at Middle East Intelligence Bulletin, “G-8 Greater Middle East Partnership Working Pap e r,” ht t p : //w w w. meib . or g/do c u me nt file/040213.htm#_ftnref1. 16 Rachel Aspden, “Living with the Monster,” New Statesman, December 4, 2008. Sohrab Mokhtari Abyssus q 93. Abyssus The parrot fell off the branch and was lost in the clouds. The pomegranates were hanging on earth, in between the trees - a stone staircase was rising down into the earth. The merchant chest-crawled to take a claw at the grass, and slithered into a passage from the staircase. He held on to the wall to stand up. Large clay ewers were placed on the walls. There was an opening on top of the ewers. Behind the openings - as far as one can see, women were sitting around fire in many circles while playing daf. The men were twirling around them and rain could be heard from their instruments. He passed by the openings. At the end of the passage a stone door was opening. The moon was a circle. It was all desert on top. Shrubs of thorny twigs were grown towards the sunset, in between each a crucifix was hanging on earth, the wind was blowing in the desert, he stood in front of the door. Seeds of soil were raining down in the sky and were lost in the night. Sohrab Mokhtari 3.12.10 - 31.5.11 translated from Farsi by #3 94. Biographies Barbad Golshiri for Contemporaneity in contemporary Iranian art”, Art Tomorrow (2010); “Modern and Contemporary Iranian Art: Developments and Challenges”, in Different Sames: New Perspectives in Contemporary Iranian Art (2009); “Saqqa-khana School of Art” in The Encyclopaedia Iranica (2007), “Contemporary Iranian Art: The Emergence of New Artistic Discourses” in Iranian Studies (2007); “Discourses on Post-revolutionary Iranian Art: Neo-traditionalism during the 1990s” in Muqarnas (2006); “Neo-traditionalism and Modern Iranian Painting: The Saqqa-khaneh School in the 1960s” in Iranian Studies (2005). Barbad Golshiri works as an artist and political and cultural critic in Teheran. His media range from video, installation, photography, and documented performance to the graphic novel and Aplastic production. He is translator and editor of Samuel Beckett into Persian. Most of his works are language-based and contend with art and literature’s plane of the feasible. Fari Bradley Leili S. Mohammadi Leili S. Mohammadi is a writer and researcher. She holds a Masters in Science with Distinction in Digital Anthropology, from University College London. Leili has conducted research in the fields of visual culture, media and technology with a number of organizations including the BBC World Service, The Open University, and Wieden and Kennedy Biographhies Fari is a broadcaster and multi-disciplinary artist working with sound, music and mixed media sculpture. Live music performances include venues such as ICA, Glastonbury, Barbican and art galleries from US to UK. Fari has composed for The World Health Organisation, The British Council and Frieze Projects. On radio Fari produces and presents Six Pillars to Persia and Free Lab Radio on arts-music radio station Resonance104.4FM, while DJing and reviewing aspects of Iranian culture for other media outlets. Under her full name ‘Farnaz’, she produces sound sculpture and other art works. Two tracks by Fari appear on the electronics CD ‘Women Take Back the Noise’ alongside artists such as Cosey Fanni Tutti. Hamid Keshmirshekan, is an art historian, critic and Editor-in-Chief of the bilingual Quarterly, Art Tomorrow and member of academic staff in the Iranian Academy of Arts. He was a visiting Associate at the Khalili Research Centre for the Art and Material Culture, Faculty of Oriental Studies, University of Oxford from 2004-2008. He obtained his PhD in History of Art from SOAS, University of London in 2004 and was awarded a post-doctoral fellowship by the British Academy, A.H.R.C and ESRC at Oxford University in 2008 and a postdoctoral fellowship by the Barakat Trust at the Oxford University in 2004-5. His recent publications include: Amidst Shadow and Light: Contemporary Iranian Art and Artists (2010); “The Question of Identity vis-à-vis Exoticism in Contemporary Iranian Art”, Iranian Studies (2010); “New Wave of Iranian Art: History and Origins”, Art Press (2010); “The Paradigms 96. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Hamid Keshmirshekan Malu Halasa Malu Halasa writes and edits books about the Middle East. Her occasional book series, Transit, features new writing and images from Middle Eastern cities and includes Transit Tehran (with Maziar Bahari) and Transit Beirut. She is coauthor of The Secret Life of Syrian Lingerie: Intimacy and Design; Kaveh Golestan: Recording the Truth in Iran (with Hengameh Golestan); and Creating Spaces of Freedom: Culture in Defiance. In 2009, she curated the exhibition: Transit Tehran: Art and Documentary from Iran at the LSE. Later that year, The Secret Life of Syrian Lingerie was exhibited at the Prince Claus Fund Gallery, Amsterdam and the Kunsthal Rotterdam. Her lectures include Iranian and Arab photography for the Photographers’ Gallery, London; Transit Beirut for IFA Gallery, Stuttgart; Syria’s racy lingerie culture for the conference “Bashar alAssad’s First Decade – A Period of Transition for Syria?” at CMES, University of Lund, Sweden; and contemporary photography from Iran, featuring Newsha Tavakolian, at the “Passion for Perfection: Islamic Art from the Khalili Collection”, Nieuwe Kerk, Amsterdam. She is the former managing editor of the Prince Claus Sohrab M. Kashani Fund Library and a founding editor of Tank magazine. Her publications provide a complex view on Middle Eastern culture, politics and fashion. Sohrab M. Kashani is a multidisciplinary artist and an independent curator based in Tehran, Iran. He has held several solo exhibitions and has participated in more than 50 group exhibitions and screenings worldwide. Sohrab is the Founder and Director of Sazmanab Project, independent artist-run space in Tehran. Newsha Tavakolian Newsha Tavakolian, a self-taught photographer, began working as professional journalist in the Iranian press at the age of 16. She started at the women’s daily newspaper Zan and later worked for nine other reformist dailies, which are all banned now. At 21 she began working internationally, covering wars, natural disasters and social documentary stories in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Yemen. Her work has been published by international magazines and newspapers such as Time Magazine, Newsweek, Stern, Le Figaro, Colors, New York Times Magazine, Der Spiegel, Le Monde, NRC Handelsblad and National Geographic. Newsha is particularly known for focussing on women’s issues. Her current works section between documentary photography and art. 97. Tamineh Monzavi Biographhies Omid Salehi was born in Shiraz, Iran and now lives and works in London. He studied Photography at Azad University, Tehran and Graphic Art at Rajaie University, Tehran. After graduating he worked as a photojournalist for several reformist daily newspapers, including Asr-e-Azadegan, Tose-e Neshat Jamejam and Bonyan, and was the photo editor of the Gozaresh e rooz newspaper. Selected group exhibitions include A Positive View, Somerset House, London (2010); Photo Quai, Quai Branly Museum, Paris (2009); 12 Photographic Journeys: Iran in the 21st century, Brunei Gallery, London (2003). He has won several awards, including the Kaveh Golestan Photojournalism Award (2004, 2005) and is a founding member of the Iranian art and photography website, 135 Photos. Publications include Iranian Photography Now, ed. Rose Issa (Hatje Cantz, 2008), Transit Tehran: Young Iran and Its Inspirations, eds. Malu Halasa and Maziar Bahari (Garnet Publishing Ltd, 2008), and forthcoming monograph, Omid Salehi. Photographs of Iran 2000-2009, ed. Rose Issa (Beyond Art Publications, 2011). Sohrab Mokhtari was born in Tehran to his father, a poet, and his mother, a painter. His poems and short stories have been published in journals inside and outside of Iran since he was 12 years old. He has recently translated selected poems by Paul Celan into Farsi. Tahmineh Monzavi studied photography at Azzad Art University in Tehran. She has been doing social documentary photography for 5 years. She is interested in portraying the contrasts in contemporary Iranian society, paticularly focussing on subjects which are essential in women’s life, such as women’s drug addiction and underground fashion events which are taking place in secret and are unofficial in Tehran. Valeria Bembry Flâneuse, blogger and cultural worker, Valeria M. Bembry is a graduate of the Courtauld and Sotheby’s Institute of Art. Her interests focus on the amalgamation of international affairs and social documentary in artistic practice and the influence of market forces on culture. #3 — Vol.I No.3 Omid Salehi Sohrab Mokhtari Appendix An excerpt from a Christie’s press release 19 April 2011 ... A striking work Chehel Sotoun by Charles Hossein Zenderoudi (Iranian b. 1937) is another highlight of the sale. A homage to one of Isfahan’s architectural jewels, the Chehel Sotoun Palace also know by its literal translation, the Palace of Forty Columns, the Palace was built in the 17th century when Isfahan was the capital of Iran. It is located in the centre of a park at the end of a long pool and the twenty slender columns of the façade become forty when reflected in the pool, hence the forty columns, the number forty also having a symbolic meaning in Persia, encompassing the notions of both respect and admiration. The artist describes the Palace as: “one of those fascinating and magical places which carry you away…”. He captures the movement of the reflection of the columns in the water through the intensity of the rich variations of cerulean, cobalt, deep sky and dark blues, heightened with orange and red. The work is estimated at $200,000300,000 / AED 730,000-1,100,000 – shown here. Mohammed Ehsai (Iranian, b. 1939) one of the most important master calligraphers in Iran, often works in black and white only, as in the work included in the sale entitled Eshgh (‘Love’), which is estimated at $180,000220,000 / AED 660,000-870,000 – Lot 24. A bronze by Parviz Tanavoli (Iranian, b. 1937) is another highlight. Entitled The Wall and the Birds, a pair of birds are squeezed in the middle of the wall and the surface is highly polished with no texture or calligraphy making is as plain and pure as possible (estimate: $120,000-180,000 / AED 440,000-650,000 – Lot 56). The Iranian contemporary section is led by four work by Farhad Moshiri 99. (Iraninan, b. 1963). The first two are from his Jar Series; a horizontally striped colourful Jar (estimated at $60,000-80,000 / AED 220,000-290,000 -Lot 43) and an impressive grand Red Jar (estimate: $80,000-120,000 / AED 300,000-120,000 – Lot 44). These are followed by Choc Line (from the Sweet Dreams series), a playful outline of a man made with 97 small acrylic ornate paint pastries or cakes (estimated at $200,000-300,000 / AED 730,0001,100,000 – Lot 45) and finally a very large work titled 8N619VT with both Farsi calligraphy and letters on a gold flecked background estimated at $180,000-240,000/AED 660,000-870,000 – Lot 46. Among the photography is a work by the female artist Shirin Neshat (Iranian, b. 1957), Munis and Revolutionary Man (from the Women without Men series), which uses Farsi script as a way of confronting the Western view of Islam as both incomprehensible and dangerous. The photographic print, shows a couple lying flat in an empty space, with hand-written Persian calligraphy surrounding them, (estimate: $60,000-80,000 / AED 220,000-290,000 – Lot 50). An unusual circular work by Reza Derakshani (Iranian, b. 1952) entitled Silent Jingle Bells (from the Mirror of Times series) in which he shows two figures elongated against the edge of the circle depicts a dance scene from the Safavid period of Iran (estimate: $60,000-80,000 / AED 220,000-290,000 –Lot 47)... 100. A Christie’s press release 21 April 2011 RELEASE: TENTH SALE SEASON FOR CHRISTIE’S DUBAI TOTALS $12 MILLION / AED 44 MILLION INCREASED INTERESTED IN CONTEMPORARY ART FROM THE MIDDLE EAST NEW BIDDERS MAKE UP 40% OF SALEROOM AUDIENCE 42 WORLD AUCTION RECORDS BROKEN ONE OF LARGEST NATURAL SALTWATER PEARLS RECORDED REALISE Christie’s celebrated its tenth sale season in Dubai with auctions of Middle Eastern art and Jewellery totaling $ 11,905,925/ AED43,722,481. In the sale of Modern and Contemporary Arab, Iranian and Turkish Art on Tuesday (19 April), 42 world auction records were set and five of the top ten lots were works of contemporary art, a clear sign of the developing taste among collectors for these more challenging works. Michael Jeha, Managing Director of Christie’s Middle East, commented: “We chose to follow a slightly different course in the make-up of this, our tenth sale season, by focusing on stellar contemporary works as much as on the remaining modern masterpieces. With 5 of these works making it into the top ten, it is clear that this is exactly what collectors are looking for. The solid results for both the art and the jewellery sales are an indication that the art market in the Middle East continues to mature and attract an increasingly international and local following. Perhaps the most encouraging sign that this market and the interest in it continues to grow, was the many new faces we saw at our pre-sale exhibition and for the auctions themselves. 101. We will build on the success of this week as we look forward to our next sale season in October and to our busy schedule of events around the region between now and then.” // 102. An Excerpt from an Email Conversation with Barbad Golshiri The following conversation took place during April 2011 Dear Barbad, I am interested in what you have called the “aestheticization of stereotypes” in the global arts scene in your e-flux article “For They Know What They Do Know”, particularly, in your critical view of the arts. When you refer to the “ideological and commonsensical beliefs” I assume you mean established western notions of contemporary Iranian Art that are fed by the current geopolitical climate, a lack of expert knowledge and a (western and Arab?) market that feeds a taste for exoticism. Please correct me if I am mistaken. Rather than stating what “Iranian Art” is in the chapter for #3, I am trying to analyse, through various contributions, what is being discussed through art that comes out of Iran and that defines itself as “Iranian” and which other structures, political, financial, social play a role in the articulation and manifestation of a piece of art and its journey/reception in a global context. Because this journey applies even more to “(new) media art” I wanted to focus on this form, but I am open for extensions. Would you be kindly able to tell me more about the exhibition “Disturbing The Public Opinion” that you curated in Sweden in March this year? I was intrigued by the short paragraph describing the “interactive” nature of the show, engaging the (western?) viewer and its aim to disturb the public opinion of “Iranian Art”. 103. What kind of media/art were exhibited? Which public opinion did you aim to disturb? And, more importantly, how did you go about achieving this disturbance? Did your strategies work? Are there any images of that exhibitions you could provide me with? I am very interested in your opinion and view on this. We can then discuss which images you would like to contribute. I look forward to hearing from you. Warm regards, Marina -Dear Marina (if I may), I’m terribly sorry for the delay. I had isolated myself in my studio for a while. Anyhow, I never intended to limit “ideological and commonsensical beliefs” to western perceptions, which in my opinion is again incorrect i.e. homogenising diverse cultures under the name ‘West’ is as incorrect as that unified mass that we refer to as ‘The Middle East’. It is true to say that opposing ideologies preserve the same object, which in our case is the doxical. The doxical nourishes both from the commonsensical and the ideological. These two I tried to tackle in the event in Sweden. In ‘Disturbing Public Opinion’ we had performance, action, poetry, video, found and altered objects, theatrical play, documentary film, short feature film, photo, satire, caricature, painting and so forth. I 104. have attached a few photos and my curatorial text for you.You may know that here intellectuals, activists, writers, artists and freedom fighters are charged with ‘Disturbing Public Opinion’. Most of those detained and exiled were charged with ‘Disturbing Public Opinion’. Many of the works in our event had focused on this and on ‘Disturbing Public Opinion’ as a form of paradoxa: disturbing the commonsensical, piercing holes in unanimity, etc. Our participants were not just artists, but also activists, see this: h t t p : //w w w. i r a n i a n f e m i n i s t s c h o o l . i n f o/e n g l i s h /s p i p . php?article435 With sending you my paper for the e-flux Journal and the event I curated, I also wanted to say that now I have little to say about the art scene here. Tell me what you think and my best for now, Barbad -Dear Barbad, Many thanks for your email. Just to clarify speaking of the “West and the rest” I meant to refer to geopolitical structures rather than intending to homogenize actual social, cultural and historical diversities. 105. I feel like I should explain a little more about the background of this chapter so that we have a more common ground to discuss. The idea for this chapter on Iranian Contemporary Art originated from my temporary position working for Tate etc. magazine, currently featuring a conversation on “Art from the Middle East.” Being of Iranian background myself and having studied some parts of the different cultures, politics and arts from the region and cultural criticism at the University of Freiburg and the School of Oriental and African Studies, I found the space given to the the conversation in the magazine quite limiting and was astonished about the use of some terms and underlying presuppositions that are quite widely spread in the art world. I, therefore, wanted to explore more of Contemporary Iranian Art as articulated not only through established global practitioners in the arts sector, but rather, through an interdisciplinary multitude of views and opinions. In addition, I wanted a view from inside, if that exists per se. As you are able to provide that, I am grateful for your thoughts. Having said that and referring to your last email, I would really appreciate it, if you could write a piece for #3, about the show “Disturbing Public Opinion” and the of interplay of politics and art in Iran, and maybe even more interesting the interplay of art and activism (I would have some ideas on that if your are interested). I am very grateful for the images and the curatorial text, but I fear the text may be a little to dense and abstract on its own, without a 106. more editorial text. Is this something you would be able and willing to write for us even in risk of repeating yourself, but to a different audience/readership? I look forward to hearing from you and all the best for your work. Best, Marina -Dear Marina, Thanks for your letter and for telling me more about the background. I am aware of the presuppositions that you are talking about and I am tackling them everyday. You are right about what I wrote for ‘Disturbing Public Opinion’, it is abstract, but it’s important to notice that going any further would have jeopardised the participants. Of course there were captions and even long texts for all works and actions, but still I had to hold my horses. Some of the participating artists had been interrogated, some were interrogated after the exhibition, though astonishingly the agents didn’t know about the event! Besides, the e-flux paper and ‘Disturbing ...’ complete each other; they focus on doxa, ideology and commonsensical beliefs; the latter analyzes it and the former either offers opposing ideas or challenges them. I confess that I cannot go beyond what I have created/curated for the time being and repeating myself, as you wisely put it, in such times of despair is beyond my will and power. 107. But if you see obscurity or if you find moments in the e-flux paper that can open a dialogue, I’d be delighted to take part. As I said I wrote what I had to write and I did what I found vital. Yours, Barbad 108. r