Contemporary Iranian Art at The Barbican Centre

The Artist as Seismograph
Kamran Diba

An exhibition titled “Contemporary Iranian Art,” the first of its kind in the UK, was held at London’s Barbican Centre. The objective of this exhibition was to depict the status of visual arts in Iran and its transformations and development as of two decades prior to the 1979 Islamic Revolution. The exhibition consisted of over fifty works of art by twenty Iranian artists, a number of whom live and work in Iran and some of whom reside in various other countries. The works on display were an array of calligraphy, figurative and abstract art, video art and photography selected from creations by aspiring young talents as well as veteran artists, chosen from among private or gallery collections and public ones from inside Iran and abroad, plus from works of art owned by the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art which to this date had not been exhibited.

The organization of this exhibition was accomplished with the cooperation of Ms. Rosa Issa, guest curator, and Ms. Carol Brown, the Head of Exhibitions of the Barbican Centre’s galleries. They were supported by the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art under the directorship of Dr. Sami‘-Azar and other centers of the foundation, such as the Iran Heritage Foundation, the Foreign & Commonwealth Office, The Iran Society, Visiting Arts, Delfina Studios and Iran Air. Upon the final selection effected by the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art, the works were packed and shipped to London.

The exhibition was inaugurated on April 10, 2001 and selected works of fourteen Iranian artists created in the last forty years were put on display. The artists present at the exhibition alongside their works were Aydin Aghdashloo, ‘Alireza Espahbod, Mohammad Ehsa’i, Ghazal Radpey, Shadafarin Qadirian and Bita Fayyazi.

The inauguration ceremony was attended by the British minister of culture, a number of ambassadors and numerous personalities from the world of art; artists, critics, art collectors, etc., and was one of the most crowded and enthusiastically received events of the Barbican Centre. Many of the guests were Iranians residing in Britain. This exhibition enabled the British audience to acquaint themselves with the quality and development of Iran’s contemporary visual art from an era which has not enjoyed attention in the last two decades. During this period, transformation in the Western art of Europe and the United States inspired and influenced Iranian artists, intermingling with cultural and artistic traditions of Iran through the synthesis of which reputable artists fashioned personal styles. These artists formed the Saqqa-khaneh school, utilizing elements and motifs derived from traditional and religious art, such as images, numerals, signs and talismans and their incorporation with Western artistic motifs or combined with calligraphy, as manifested in paintings by Hossein Zenderoudi, Mohammad Ehsa‘i and Faramarz Pilaram. The same kind of incorporation occurs in the works of sculptor Parviz Tanavoli in his effigies of Heech (nothingness).

In the paintings of Sohrab Sepehri, Western art intermingles with nature and Zen philosophy, whereas Mas‘ud ‘Arabshahi has been influenced by pre-Islamic and Zoroastrian designs and motifs. Marcos Grigorian and Parviz Kalantari have created canvases of soil and straw, inspired by the arid deserts of Iran.

From among the post-revolutionary generation, works from Khosrow Hassanzadeh, a volunteer fighter in the Iran-Iraq Imposed War, were displayed at the exhibition. So were an installation of Bita Fayyazi’s ceramic roaches and samples of the works of Qassem Hajizadeh and Hojjatollah Shakiba, creations based on old photographs of the Qajar period, with a modern view of the painting and photography of that era.

A selection of videos by Ghazal, which were a combination of satire and contradictory aspects of modern life with the prevalent traditions and customs in the society, were also presented.

Also displayed were samples of the most recent works by Fereydoon Ave, inspired by Ferdowsi’s Shahnameh, manifesting the latest manner of incorporating

modern art with the traditional essence of Persian art and culture.

Complementing this exhibition, a screening of Iranian films was also presented, an event comprising short and feature films by Iranian filmmakers and some shorts by expatriate Iranians:

Daughters of the Sun, Maryam Shahriar

The Day I became a Woman, Marzieh Meshkini

Nargess, The Blue Veil, Under the Skin of the City and The May Lady, Rakhshan Bani-‘Etemad

Bashu, the Little Stranger, Bahram Beyza’i

Two Women, Tahmineh Milani

The Apple, Blackboards, Samira Makhmalbaf

The Circle, Ja‘far Panahi

The House is Black, Foroogh Farokhzad

Cold Green, Nasser Saffarian

Zinat: A Special Day, Ebrahim Mokhtari

Passage, Pulse, Shirin Neshat

Divorce Iranian Style, Ziba Mir-Hosseini

But You Speak Such Good English, Parisa Taqi-zadeh and Marjan Safinia

En Attendent Vahid, Delphine Minu’i

Baran – A Mother’s Daughter, Shalizeh ‘Arefpoor

To Have or not to Have, Niki Karimi

A Man for all Reasons, Fatemeh Mo‘tamed-Aria

After years of silence and artistic isolation, a comprehensive collection of Iranian art from the past forty years was exhibited at the Curve Gallery of the Barbican Centre in London. Over 20 Iranian artists were represented at this exhibition.

Presenting a review of Iranian art history, this exhibition begins with the painters of the Saqqa-khaneh school. This group of artists focused on the traditional and popular roots of Iranian culture, but with a modern sensibility. They established their visual language based on certain symbols with which the people of the street were familiar, such as calligraphic decorations and popular symbols of ta‘zieh plays (religious mourning ceremonies), astrolabes and divining pebbles, witchcraft and charms, and the forms which were displayed in Saqqa-khanehs as symbols of charity and piety.

Karim Emami, Iran’s first art critic, named this style of painting Saqqa-khaneh. His writings refer to Parviz Tanavoli and Hossein Zenderoudi as the pioneers of this school, soon to be joined by Faramarz Pilaram, Sadeq Tabrizi, Ma‘sud ‘Arabshahi, and Mansur Qandriz. But these divisions were valid for only a short period of time, for these artists gradually chose their own paths and artistic directions. It is interesting to note that the activities of the Saqqa-khaneh painters coincided with Pop Art in the United States. At the time, Western artists in search of images turned to the popular products of Western consumer culture. The era of post-war prosperity and the widespread consumption of industrial products exposed Western countries to a fundamental cultural transformation. American painters began to take notice of advertising images, movie stars, and boldly printed newspaper headlines, and these common and non-artistic images drew their attention, leading them to reflect these images directly in their works of art.

It is not important whether the artists were protesting or promoting. What is interesting to note is that, like a seismograph, these artists anticipated a global culture dependent on technology, consumerism, and mass communication.

A question that arises here is: Did the Saqqa-khaneh artists, in their turn, by drawing attention to the Shi‘ite religious symbols which were used by the traditional classes of society, predict the religious revolution and government? Painters undoubtedly reflected their own vision; they weren’t attempting to predict the future. In search of creativity and innovation, with a personal and spiritual view, artists were representing the

religious beliefs and culture of the common people.

Soon the Saqqa-khaneh artists were drawn to calligraphy and promulgated access to this cultural treasure among other artists. This was the first section of the exhibition, which included works from the 1960s. Of course, during the 60s and 70s, artists chose their individual paths of personal expression. During these two fruitful decades, Iranian art had exceptional energy and vibrancy.

Astonishing Gap
At first glance, this was an exhibition of Iranian art of the past forty years. However, an analytical study of the works on display reveals an astonishing artistic gap: there are no artworks from the 1980s. The only painter from that era with a prominent presence is Kourosh Shishegaran. Why is it that during the early passionate period of the revolution, which could be artistically active and fruitful, the country’s art scene is a silent vacuum?

If we look at the age group of the artists represented at this exhibition, their average age during the revolution was 30 to 40, which is usually the beginning of an artist’s productivity.

After expressing regret over lost opportunities and wasted lives, it would be apt to end this article on a positive note; the mere fact that such an exhibition was organized at all. This exhibition was undoubtedly made possible by the “Dialogue among Civilizations” and the more open atmosphere in art. This exhibition is indebted to the efforts and foresight of Dr. Sami-‘Azar, the director of the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art, who not only attempts to fill the gap in pre and post-revolutionary art, but hopes to advance and introduce Iranian art to the world. By presenting its art collection and encouraging private collectors to loan theirs, this museum made such an exhibition in London possible. The Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art owns a large collection of first-rate Iranian and Western art.

In recent years, the museum’s collection of Western art has been loaned for art exhibitions in Europe, and the museum has regained its lost reputation among museums and cultural and artistic centers across the world.

As a last glance at this exhibition one cannot ignore the works of three female post-revolutionary artists. The significance of these artists is not in their being women, for there have been many female artists with prominent roles in Iranian art history: Behjat Sadr, Lily Matin-Daftari, Iran Darrudi, and others who have been influential in the teaching and production of art. The significance of the three young women of the 1990s is in their use of new tools for artistic expression: photography, video, and installation.

Leaving the exhibition, we cannot remain indifferent to Bita Fayyazi’s unforgettable Cockroaches. Cockroaches are never appealing or attractive, but for those seeking hidden messages, this artwork is surely a vehicle for feminist ideals. While doing the housework, a woman is often faced with annoying and at times fearful cockroaches. A symbol of female rebellion? Or perhaps leaving feminism for a moment, we should consider the plight of humanity: a mass of cockroaches, forever lost and searching, gaining hope from the slightest crack or opening.

A New Experience

Bita Fayyazi

The entrance of the exhibition displayed the works of the eminent artists Hossein Zenderoudi, Faramarz Pilaram, Parviz Tanavoli’s bronze Heech, calligraphy by Mohammad Ehsa’i… then works by contemporary artists such as Khosrow Hassanzadeh, his “Memories of War;” and by Shadafarin Qadirian, who in each frame of her photographs had linked Qajar women with modern Western objects, works which have to this date met with great success and were enthusiastically received in various exhibitions outside Iran; followed by the video art of Ghazal Radpey: four monitors placed in a darkened room very much like a movie theater; and finally, my installation, Cockroaches. Just outside the gallery’s exit were a selection of photographs by Seifollah Samadian.

I would like to add that the absence of a great number of artists was intensely felt at this exhibition, and I am well aware that this undertaking was but a beginning and a novel experience, one that will surely continue. Of course all good works can not be included in a single exhibition, yet should the trend continue, all the absent works will eventually be displayed. Organizing such an exhibition is no easy task. I was myself to some extent involved in the two-and-a-half years of preparation, and witnessed the difficulties it entailed. Despite the efforts and precision expended for this event, as in the case of every new task, mistakes are certain to occur, the first step always being the most difficult and unpredictable. Complementing this exhibition, a week of film screenings of the work of female Iranian filmmakers had also been organized for May 3, and was apparently very well-received. Among he filmmakers I recall were Rakhshan Bani-‘Etemad, Fatemeh Mo’tamed-Aria, Nicki Karimi, Shalizeh ‘Arefpour, Delphin Minou’i and Shirin Neshat.

Briefly about my own project: in order to arrange and install the roaches, I needed to be there before the exhibition began. Throughout the time I was there the employees of the Centre were constantly present, offering help and advice and putting up with my bouts of indecision and fussiness with patience and humor. And while I am usually filled with worry and anxiety before an exhibition, this time around all was at peace, punctual and correct, and I may say that it was the best installation of cockroaches I had ever done.

In my opinion, the event itself—an assembly focusing on Iranian art, and on such a grand scale—must have been more interesting than the works themselves. The exhibition was on display until June 3, 2001, after which the works were returned to the private collections and museums they had been borrowed from.

Where Are The Labors of the Alchemists?

Ebrahim Golestan
…No sign of them in this exhibition which presents “Contemporary Iranian Art.” No sign of Manuchehr Yektai, Hushang Pezeshknia, nor Esfandiari, Vishkai, Hossein Kazemi, Zia’pour. So much for the 1940s. And from the later years, Nasser ‘Assar, Azar Khosravi, Behjat Sadr, Morteza Momayyez, Bijan Saffari, Bijan Bassiri… they are not there either. Neither is Bahman Dadkhah, who currently has a sculpture exhibition in France. This list continues with names like Youssefzadeh, Farideh Lasha’i, Victoria Mas‘udi (Amini)…

In an era when ideas and opinions are free—except perhaps in their verbal expression —if you wish to hold an exhibition or publish a journal, with whatever healthy or sick, beautiful or ugly taste you may have, you are free to do so. This will be a personal work by which to measure your level of taste or talent. However, to hold up a work of art in a system which is larger than the individual, whether it’s a museum or an organization larger than the private confines of a storefront, and beyond that, a work that pertains to a nation, a civilization and the history of a people, in a foreign land where you are measured by your fossil fuels and your ancient history, wisdom and conscience demand that one ought to be more precise, have a greater understanding and a deeper discretion.

How can one casually organize an event displaying “Contemporary Iranian Art” without representing its pioneers and founders, and instead, fill the walls with repetitions of uninspired, disjointed works, coming from a level lower than true standards, and lacking individual diversity?

Except for one small work, where is Bahman Mohassess, whose achievements, whether in painting, sculpture or theater, are brimming with emotive power and intellectual value?

…Or Abolqassem Sa‘idi, content to work, insatiable for experience? Where are those blossoming forms of personal expression; those canvasses, 10-12 meters long, covered in the colors and forms of life’s essence and core, a translucent manifestation of sincerity, of the mind and in the mind, not imitating nature, but creating a new nature, its sun drawing brilliance from the artist himself… his work marks the convergence of a contemporary personal creative force and the distilled essence of traditional Iranian art… It was precisely this point that caused André Malraux’s fascination with Sa‘idi’s works. Sa‘idi puts formal traditions aside; he captures the meaning and the soul of these traditions. Through his manipulation of forms he has created a new tradition, and thus enriched the former traditions. But could this single work nailed to the walls of the Barbican be sufficient testimony to this aspect of color and design in contemporary Iranian art?

Or Hossein Zenderoudi, the most innocent instinctive seeker of Iranian traditions of form and color–where are his icons? The twists of his calligraphy? His desert of Karbala? Where are his magical and spellbinding alphabetic forms? He employs the letters of the alphabet playfully, patiently and painstakingly, like an incantation to unravel emotional and nervous tangles. Contrary to those who believe they must tread his path, but with a “better” calligraphy, he has had nothing to do with calligraphy—nothing whatsoever. The alphabet, which gives shape to words, exists in nature, and you are free to put its letters to work in any way you please, as the form of a tree, a bird, a fruit, a stone, or a man. Is it necessary to create a word? Meaning in the work of Hossein Zenderoudi does not come from words. The words are not the focus. You may tie words together in any way you wish, but meaning arises from your emotions, your creation. This is the principle of Zenderoudi’s work. Whenever his mind wanders, leaving its limits, it is as if he has gone off the path, it is as if he is lost, pointless. Do we find a single example of this central focus at the incoherent Barbican exhibition? Hossein Zenderoudi had well perceived how off the mark the organizers of this exhibition were, and so, had not given them any works to exhibit. Or Sohrab Sepehri. Sohrab’s insight lay in his seeking. The principle of his work was searching; how to say what. Both in his poetry and in his painting. He begins with doubt, with asking. His work was a quest for answers. This brought enchantment to the simplicity of his poetry. Here we are not concerned with his poetry of words, but his poetry of form and color. He was always and in any case searching. These efforts would lead to a distillation, like an alchemist. And with distillations such as these, he believed he would reach what he was seeking. This was what prevented disorder in his work. This gave him discipline, in his work, and in his life. The search would become a goal in itself, the work itself, the unavoidable result of work, just as in alchemy, where the initial goal may have been gold. At the end of such a winding path lies imagination and hope—for no end exists. A repetition of this technique results in refinement. Order and precision are achieved, and these were what he accomplished. In the 22 years that I knew him, until the end of his life, Sohrab was a disciplined, untiring seeker who never became slovenly, and never was. His efforts to distill guaranteed the variety of his work. Sohrab was this variety. Where is this variety at this exhibition? They had space for the “cute” photos of wrestlers pasted on a bed of flowers, made room for them on the wall and on the cover of the exhibition catalogue, as an example of contemporary art of Iran, a lost and trampled on Iran. But they could not find room to explore the variety of the works of one who was all about exploration and variety.

Incredible! Sepehri, his tulips, his powerful, abstract forms, his geometric shapes, his air vents and his deserts, his stucco walls and his villages. The crooked logs, the bunches of flowers, the lone tree on a desolate hillside, from the astronauts floating in space to the monochrome image of a woman who disappears in the mysterious darkness of a dusty, door-less room, where secrets lay buried. Except for the floating astronauts, where is a single example of this variety? Where are the traces of their labors, those alchemists spurred on by a sense of bewilderment in search of tranquility? •

· Excerpt from a longer article