Thursday, 31 December 2009

Our New Decade

A New Year is a great idea!
It comes to us each worn-out year
Just as December dies on us
And January threatens us
With news of blood and fears that all
Our hopes are dashed…
But, friends, this is the first day of Our Decade!
May all the things come true for which we’ve prayed.
Is it too much to hope in this New Year
That Peace will wipe away our every tear?

© Aida Foroutan


Tuesday, 29 December 2009

The Power of Words

Amnesty International supporters have used the power of words to demand freedom and justice for countless human rights defenders around the world. Our words are proof that you stand up for human rights, you never stand alone.



 

Sunday, 20 December 2009

Happy Yalda




Yule (Yalda):

The sun is setting low on the western horizon.
Sky serpent swallowing him once more
Yule night has arrived; sun’s longest slumbers.

We eat and drink all that is red
Wine, pomegranate, and watermelon,
The color of dawn, reminders of what we eagerly wait for.

Shamash, Marduk, Sekhmet,
Descending immortals, you’ll rise again
Apollo, Ra, salutations to you.

Good night Osiris, weak and tired lying in your coffin,
Enclosed by darkness, tricked by Seth again!
An infant sun is born, Horus soaring up into the sky.

Mithras, born of a rock and out from the cave,
Becoming Sol Invictus and turning the wheel
Darkness, now a fading memory.

The Oak king sings outside, as the Holly king lays slain
Dawn has arrived, Yule has ended.
Drink up your wine.

From ‘The Mysteries of Mithras: The Pagan Belief That Shaped the Christian World’ by Payam Nabarz.




A chance meeting some years ago with an Iranian scholar who, as fate has it, now lives in Helsinki, Finland, introduced me to an aspect of Iranian history; which to this date is nothing short of a love affair with my ancestors. Though long forgotten, they deserve to be remembered for what they truly were. For this enlightenment, I am forever indebted to this friend.

At this particular time of year, I would like to share something with you that I think speaks volumes of plagiarisms and outright thefts of many Iranian thoughts and customs. I feel sure that many of you are aware of this, but circumstances have made it difficult to assert the facts or to remind your colleagues and compatriots of them.

When my children were growing up and were still at home, as parents, Christmas was a difficult time for us. Like all other Iranian children, ours could not quite understand the lack of enthusiasm during this particular holiday.

I am inclined to think that this, among many others, may have been the main contributing factor for their feeling that their parents were "different". They wished we would make the same efforts at Christmas as other parents, but because our hearts were not in it, everything we did seemed either artificial or pretentious, which made us in their eyes even more "different".

However, the chance meeting changed all that with the result that a small amount of research produced many sweet historical facts. Had I known this when my children were small, I would have happily, gladly, and most proudly celebrated this particular holiday season as one of our very own. And I would not have had all those uncomfortable feelings at Christmas with or without a tree.

Yalda (winter solstice) is an ancient Iranian word and appears in many of Prophet Mani's writings. The word refers to a new Beginning from which the Arabic words milaad, tavalod etc. were derived. Mitra (or Mithra) the early Iranian Prophet, considering Light as the essence of existence and life, believed in its sanctity. The Sun as its most obvious manifestation was revered and some out of pure ignorance concluded that Mitra worshiped the Sun.

Whether she did or not she was believed to have been born by divine gesture on December 21st, the longest night of the year, specifically to begin the struggle and triumph of "Light" over "Dark" by having longer and longer days following the longest night of the year.

Mitra's birthday was celebrated for a total of 10 days up to and including the First of January. It is not an accident that half way through the celebrations, namely December 25th, was chosen as Jesus' birthday and January 1st as the first day of New Year.

Remember that Romans, prior to Christianity, practiced Mitraism and only out of political considerations, in the year 376, they converted to the new religion that had started within their own territory. They were not too happy about their main philosophy and religion having been imported from their main and only competitor, namely, the Persian Empire, they converted expeditiously.

According to one source, the Iranians celebrated this day as early as 2,000 BC. Zoroastrians after refining and discarding some of the mythical and "heretical" aspects of Mithraism, retained Yalda (The Birth), and additionally encouraged celebrations of Noruz and Mehregan among many others.

Ancient Iranians celebrated Yalda by decorating an evergreen tree, the Sarve. The Sarve, Rocket Juniper (what a name!), also known as the cypress tree, being straight, upright, resilient and resistant to the cold weather (all signs of strength and upright of character) was thought appropriate to represent Mitra, the omnipotent and ubiquitous deity.

The younger girls had their "wishes" symbolically wrapped in colorful silk cloth and hung them on the tree as offerings to Mitra with an expectation, no doubt, that their prayers would be rewarded (remnants of this traditions can still be seen in Iran at remote villages where some young girls tie colorful bundles to trees to answer to their "wishes") . Thus the tradition of decorations of the tree with lights and gifts on or beside the tree was born.

As you may know, Pope Leo, in the fourth century (A.D.376), after almost destroying the last temple of Mitra (Mitraeum) in his campaign against Mitraism and in the good old Christian tradition, "If you can't claim it, imitate it and call it your own," proclaimed the 25th of December as Christ's birthday and January 1st (not March 21st as was the norm) as the first day of New Year.

Again in the same Euro-Christian tradition of not identifying the source, Luther, the famous German reformer, in the 18th century (1756, I believe), having learned of the Yalda Tree tradition, introduced the Christmas tree to the Germans. However, as Sarves were not much known in Germany, nor indeed in much of Europe, the chosen tree became a genus of pine, abundant in Europe.

So now with or without the children at home, we decorate a small Sarve with a star (Mitra's) on top and many presents all around, not necessarily for Mitra, but in memory of my ancestors for my children and grandchildren.

Please, therefore, decorate a tree at this joyous time, call it by its true name -- Yalda Tree -- and celebrate it as your own and don't feel ambivalent when your children wonder if we celebrate the occasion. So Happy Yalda and the greetings of the season to all of you; no matter what your religion is.


Ash Farhang
December 23, 2003



Saturday, 17 October 2009

Magic Wishes

It is hard to contend against one's heart's desire; for whatever it wishes to have it buys at the cost of soul. -Heraclitus

Lester was given a magic wish

By the goblin who lives in the banyan tree,

And with his wish he wished for two more wishes--

So now instead of just one wish, he cleverly had three.

And with each one of these

He simply wished for three more wishes,

Which gave him three old wishes, plus nine new.

And with each of these twelve

He slyly wished for three more wishes,

Which added up to forty-six--or is it fifty-two?

Well anyway, he used each wish

To wish for wishes 'til he had

Five billion, seven million, eighteen thousand thirty-four.

And then he spread them on the ground

And clapped his hands and danced around

And skipped and sang, and then sat down

And wished for more.

And more...and more...they multiplied

While other people smiled and cried

And loved and reached and touched and felt.

Lester sat amid his wealth

Stacked mountain-high like stacks of gold,

Sat and counted--and grew old.

And then one Thursday night they found him

Dead--with his wishes piled around him.

And they counted the lot and found that not

A single one was missing.

All shiny and new--here, take a few

And think of Lester as you do.

In a world of apples and kisses and shoes

He wasted his wishes on wishing.


-Shel Silverstein


Saturday, 3 October 2009

First Case, Second Case: Practice of Indecisiveness

Knowledge often breaks into pieces when put into practice, with each piece taking one to the most unlikely places.

First Case, Second Case: A film by Abbas Kiarostami

Ghazieh shekle aval shekle dovvom from Green Mind on Vimeo.


At the time of Iran’s 1979 revolution, the Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami made a documentary film called First Case, Second Case. The film was originally shot just before the revolution and completed only after the declaration of its victory. The film, itself divided into two opposite moral takes on its subject, later faced the same fate, that is, first winning an award for what was interpreted as a parable on the Shah’s secret police, and later banned for addressing issues politically too sensitive for the post-revolutionary government.

The film is about a boy not owning up to having misbehaved in the classroom. The teacher, who does not know who the guilty party is, sends a group of pupils out of the classroom. ‘First case’ involves the pupils refusing to name the guilty party, and as a result, remaining expelled from the class. In the ‘second case’ one pupil from the group identifies the culprit and returns to his seat. School inspectors, the education minister and other newly appointed political figures from the post-revolutionary government are filmed commenting on the two cases. Some believe the students should not name names as this undermines the model of moral character, while others agree with the second case as being principally correct. Throughout the whole film we see either the pupils standing in a row against the corridor wall outside the classroom, or the talking heads of the commentators. At the time the film was banned, the political climate was quite similar to what this film depicts. One reason for its later ban was because some of the commentaries were coming from members of political parties that had been declared illegal in the few years after the revolution.

First Case, Second Case operates within the gap between the two moral poles: enouncing (naming) the name of the guilty boy and complying with the principles of the school system, or remaining silent and renouncing one’s place in the classroom for the sake of the other. In both cases, however, the ‘name’, in its exposure and concealment, is just an instrument for a moral arrangement. What is truly sacrificed, either way, is the boy’s ‘real’ name.

The film avoids taking sides. Nor do the comments by the established figures offer a way out either. On the contrary, they only increase and widen the gap between the two points of view. In simply documenting both cases, the film seems to offer two differing options. But what it truly shows is that there is in fact no real third way, not as an alternative discourse, and this is exactly what makes this dilemma unbearable. In remaining inconclusive, i.e. neither depicting the group as ‘heroes’ nor the fellow pupil who named the boy’s name as a ‘traitor’ (or the other way around), the film leaves us simply in the midst of its dilemma. What the film unfolds is the symptom in each discourse. Both are undermined in the face of this impasse of choice/sacrifice. One either favours one ‘case’ over the other, or eludes both and is left with nothing—the non-discourse of the third option that the film is about. This is exactly why this film can only be misinterpreted if one remains within the fields of one of the two options; this is why it was first given a prize and later banned, on the basis of two opposing interpretations.

What Kiarostami seems be saying with this film is that we are relentlessly entangled in these discourses of social posture, outside of which is nothing but the very place the film itself occupies: the ambiguity of social and political being.

In a place like Iran, where most of life evolves between speculative relations to history and vague notions about the future, cultural production has to a great extent become a volatile and impulsive endeavour. If there is any political or cultural indecisiveness in Iran, it is the consequence of the discrepancy between social reality and its political representation: this essentially irreducible gap between the multiplicity of social logics and its totalising representation by the ruling force acting in the name of the society as a whole. Rulers and governments in Iran have been explicitly concerned to close this gap with symbolic and imaginary identifications to implement the illusion of a unified and sovereign society. With these identifications, the society is offered false knowledge of itself.

The period of the war with Iraq provided the best chance for the Iranian government to reinforce the symbolism on which it had based itself during the revolution. The war was represented as an ideologically collective event, articulated with historical references and rhetoric, mobilising a national force for what was called ‘the sacred defence’. To this day, these representations are revived and reformulated at every possible opportunity, in order to maintain the illusion of social uniformity and continuity. However, symbolic representations start to lose their context when every experience hints at their inconsistency with reality. In being compelled to repetition, discourses of power are permanently at risk; in other words, the social and cultural conceptions they repeatedly institute run the risk of becoming de-instituted at every interval. It is exactly in these intervals that the society engages in producing substitutive discourses and representations of and about itself. It is no surprise that only after the end of the war was it possible to disseminate other political views, slightly moderate in their approach, in the ruling elite. During the years after the war, the number of newspapers with different political views increased enormously. During and before the war, any idea of a reform within the existing political establishment was unthinkable. However, it is appropriate to say that the idea of reform has given way to disappointment, even among some of those who promoted it in the first place.

What is interesting is the way these socio-political inconsistencies condition the production of indecisive discourses, from one moment to the next, in variations, and sometimes in contradiction with one another. Rumours are good examples of this, always suspended between belief and disbelief, falsity and truth, pointing to the very ambiguity of knowledge. Recently, after a report on an explosion heard near a nuclear plant in the south of Iran, rumours started spreading about an American bombardment. Newspapers started reporting contradictory explanations. These varied from ‘explosives used for road expansions’ to ‘a military training plane having to discharge its explosives due to technical problems’. The total destruction of a building and the firing of anti-aircraft missiles near where the sound was heard were also reported. Although the truth has not yet been clarified, and most probably it never will be, the rumour did temporarily affect the price of oil that day when the New York oil market opened. (The reality rumours entail does not lie in the truth about an event but exactly in the rumours’ very indecisiveness, for they will always return to their true source in spite of being a lie. The source of the sound of the explosion may never be located, but it did reach the ‘true’ instigator of the rumour, that is the New York oil market.) By pointing out the representational gap in the totalising articulations of reality, rumours as indecisive discourse undermine discourses of power. Yet they remain hesitant and speculative. What would be the radical yet productive equivalent of such a subversion?

At this juncture cultural practice may take on a double-edged role, at once occupying the space of this gap and rearticulating it into a space for dialogue. Always involving this gap between social representation and pure difference, cultural practice attests to the irresoluteness of political identification, encircling the very ambiguity of discourse. Cultural activities are political in the way they relentlessly reinscribe a split in the heart of any discourse, opening it for negotiation. To give in to this ambiguity is to keep open the possibility for constant rearticulation and negotiation. This is exactly what Kiarostami’s film is implementing. It is as if it reconsiders the corridors between classrooms as the place where discourses meet to collide, to be diluted and split into two, a place where the ‘real’ lessons are picked up.

Pursuing the Indecisive Beyond Locality

Cultural vocabularies change rapidly, as do the contexts upon which they reflect. Today’s discourse on the social and political currents of a place may be dated tomorrow. There are always multiple flows of discourse in a society, crushing and cross folding unto one another. Therefore any totalising symbolisations are bound to fall short of this complexity. Cultural projects attempting to pursue a critical flow of discourse are successful only to the extent of escaping symbolisation of any sort. It is the internalising of the very intricacy of conditions that is challenging and constitutes complex articulations.

First Case, Second Case was one of a few films in Kiarostami’s oeuvre that did not receive enough recognition outside of Iran. The reason is obviously that most festival viewers and critics do not know of the distinct political—and now historical—context the film refers to. When these historical distinctions enter localities other than their own, they can affect them in the most direct manner —for one thing, they are no longer mere narratives of a far-off place. To welcome complexities of other conditions, i.e. to re-insert them into one’s own representational discourses about the ‘other’, may not only de-certify our subjective position, but also render certain estrangement into the ‘reality’ of our own condition.

Recent trends in the art world in depicting cultural and artistic practices from various localities have often resulted in simplified articulations and presentations. What should be accounted for is not merely the differences between cultures, or conformist categorisations of conditions, but rather the difference within each and every locality. The latter is of course a more timeand mind-consuming effort and would require certain sacrifices were it to be taken seriously. In coming close to ‘real’ difference, one is exposed to a kaleidoscopic inconsistency against which all prescribed knowledge is bound to break into pieces. The hardest venture is then to pick up the shattered bits and pieces of fragments and to renegotiate them into alternative configurations.

Here, reconfigurations of meanings are pursued always in regard to the ‘other’, to other meanings and configurations; in a sharing of knowledge based on its ambiguity, its suspension between (in)comprehensiveness and discord. In other words, to share knowledge is to produce and de-produce it together in a network of enunciations and of localities. This conditions an approach beyond consistencies of cultural representations and identifications, where knowledge is then a discourse of exchange and of constant transposition. As Georges Bataille wrote, ‘Every time we give up the will to know, we have the possibility of touching the world with a much greater intensity.’

by Babak Afrassiabi & Nasrin Tabatabai


Via MANIFESTA & Green Mind
Related Link: قضیه شکل اول شکل دوم

Sunday, 27 September 2009

Kseniya Simonova's Sand Animation



Kseniya Simonova, the winner of Ukraine's Got Talent, has become a YouTube phenomenon by telling stories through sand animation.





Here, she recounts Germany conquering Ukraine in the second world war. She brings calm, then conflict. A couple on a bench become a woman's face; a peaceful walkway becomes a conflagration; a weeping widow morphs into an obelisk for an unknown soldier. Simonova looks like some vengeful Old Testament deity as she destroys then recreates her scenes - with deft strokes, sprinkles and sweeps she keeps the narrative going. She moves the judges to tears as she subtitles the final scene "you are always near".

It might just happen. Her war story has over 2,600,000 views on YouTube and is provoking an interesting debate in the comments section. Jgoo24 notes that "sand is her bitch" and few would argue with this. "Maybe the most magnificent master piece of art of all time" says DevinsDad90, not a man prone to hyperbole. And also "i just jizzed in my pants" (thank you, deaddevil6).

Leaving aside the never less than disturbing thoughts of the YouTube massive, it's clear that Simonova has achieved her goal as an artist. If we take it that art's purpose is to illuminate the world in a new way, provoke a reaction, somehow alter the consciousness of the viewer then her work is a huge success. And that high art can come from a format that produced Stavros Flatley and that it can be popularised and sent around the world is surely some kind of modern miracle.

Via The Guardian - TV & Radio Blog  & YouTube

Thursday, 24 September 2009

Artists Creating Change

By Tara Nadjd Ahmadi, Change for Equality, Iran

I have been active in the Feminist movement in Iran for several years. During these years, I have come across certain questions, the answers for which I am still struggling to find. The following are some examples:

  • How much and to what extent can I use artistic expression as a political/social statement?
  • What is the form and nature of feminist-artistic activism?
  • What distinguishing factors differentiate between protest art and other forms of artistic expression?
  • As a woman and a marginalized member of a patriarchal society, how can I express my objection to the status quo through the use of art?
On the Third Anniversary of the One Million Signature Campaign
Rasht-Iran

On the Third Anniversary of the One Million Signature Campaign
Photo by Zhina.Modarres Gorji, Kurdistan-Iran

The Indifference of Artists to Social Issues in Iran

In a society like Iran where art is viewed as a gift of the gods and sacred and divine, reducing the position of the artist and artistic creation to the earthly so that she can address tangible issues corresponding with real life concerns is not an easy endeavor. The ability to express and create protest art, so that it objects to the status quo in a constructive, dynamic and creative manner, rather than a mere expression of dissatisfaction is extremely difficult, as in our collective history, whether through writing, culture, literature, daily conversations, there exists an enormous but inactive opposition, which has gradually lost its own power. In essence without the necessary agency intent on creating change the narrator or the artist has limited and reduced herself to the simple expression of pain and hardship.

The history of art, literature and music in Iran is filled with a conservatism and heroism which seeks to glorify the collective identity and history and is less focused on social action, as a form of creating change. It is characterized by a male-oriented history which pushes to the side all those marginalized allowing in the end for a hard and solitary entirety to rise up in a central position, leaving no space for the marginalized to be seen or heard. This form of art has been promoted by governments and dominant religious elites as the official art, and as such has at once captured all viewers.

The "official" art sector which is rooted in religion and spirituality has in past years with the support of men in power elevated the artist to a celestial and godlike creator who free of worldly affairs recreates sacred texts and tales with a moral message. Calligraphy based on sacred texts, and the retelling of the stories of the prophets and saints through religious passion plays or Tazieh is a part of this general trend in Iranian art.

Given such a cultural and historical background a large number of artists in recent years have taken refuge in their private homes and in the recesses of their own minds to describe the world outside through paranoid poetic illustrations. In an effort to escape censorship imposed on their descriptions of the world which often only encompasses their immediate surroundings and about which they are most often grumbling, it remains unclear where and to what their dark and bitter images refer. Is it true that to fight censorship, we must censor ourselves?

The Historical Use of Art in Protest

The Dadaists expressed their opposition and protest to the existing artistic trends of their time, through conducting acts which were against cultural norms in public spaces—something that later in the context of art history came to be known as anti-art. In so doing, they had a clever goal. The Dadaists, having been denied the use of theatre halls and art galleries, would impose their own presence in public spaces. In small groups and without use of décor, a stage or even a specific written play, they would begin speaking. They would show films which were in clear opposition to the dominant culture promoted by the bourgeois artistic community. Whenever they did not have the opportunity to perform or show their art, the Dadaists would use their own bodies, as a representation of that which did not conform to the acceptable norm of dress, culture and behavior, to express their opposition. In between their short performances or films, they would recite the speeches of politicians from newspaper clippings, exactly as they had been printed, but delivered in a manner that would compel the audience into fits of laughter, or even at times would end in verbal and physical fights and arrest by police.

With their creative and lively approach, the Dadaists would work to undermine the existing order of society and they did this through their unusual and unnatural presence in public spaces. They imposed their opposition through their unique presence in public spaces. With great courage, they would laugh at themselves and at others and through unusual acts and endless jokes. In so doing, they quickly turned into a threat to the aesthetics beliefs of the artistic elites of their day and the culture of museums and theatre of the bourgeoisie. Their films and theatrical performances were full of strange and moving criticisms. Their approach was so effective in fact that for the first time and in a serious manner they put forth the thesis of anti-aesthetic as valued criteria for artistic expression.

The organizers of the play "Bread and Puppet" in the United States in the 1960s can also be classified as another group who utilized street performances and protest art as a means to express their ideas. The play "Bread and Puppet" served as a model for a number of young theatrical groups who felt the need to work outside the traditional artistic community and traditional art organizations to address the immediate developments in society and their own daily lives. This play was in touch with the anti-racist and anti-war movements. In essence this new tradition turned its back to the dominant artistic tradition of theatre performed in coffee houses and churches, a tradition which imposed specific methods and places for forms of theatrical expression. In reality this new approach for creative expression was an attempt to exit the traditional forms and structure of theatre. These radical movements did not receive financial support from foundations. This style of art had its own special characteristics as well. Costly costumes, set decorations, and lighting, were non existent in this new form. The actors freely expressed their own personalities. There was no specific script limiting the dialogue of the actors. The scripts were developed through the process of working on the play and were developed in their shortest forms. This new tradition was based on action, rather than dialogue.

This theatre group had a different style of performance. One was street performance, which was performed in a radical manner, with differing storylines and even at times improvised. On occasion and in response to certain social and political developments the theatre group would stage small symbolic street protests. While these protests may have not had much impact or may have not received much press, still they can be viewed as worthy efforts even on a small scale to question the existing political order and to ridicule and damage the existing power structure.

For example, in these protests, the protesters would carry small plastic bags filled with blood, and at an appropriate time, when the police was ready to attack the crowd with batons the protesters would pour the blood on their heads. The Guerrilla theatres of "Mark Sterin" which lacked actors in their traditional sense would use protesters to express concerns. These protesters would paint the flag of Vietnamese Freedom Front on US Mail Boxes to voice their objection to the war, or they would write slogans on restaurant menus or paint cars. In this way Guerrilla theatre worked to undermine the dominant structure of society and through the use of theatre and performances would work to express and critique reality. Art is not necessarily the demonstration of a reality rather it is action, the creation of an event which strives to be the catalyst for change. The act of pouring blood on the heads of protesters and onlookers, seeks to demonstrate the oppressive nature of the American Regime in its purest and most direct form and through the use of irony. The lapse of time between the lifting of the threatening batons and its landing on the intended target, looses its intensity and significance through this act of protest and resistance.

In 1970 twelve members of the "Bread and Puppets" theatre separated from their colleagues to form another street theatre group, with a new message and different approach at raising issues of social concern. This group moved through the streets intent on creating and performing street plays addressing women's rights. They built their dolls themselves, produced and distributed leaflets, and newspapers which used a significant amount of drawings and pictures to relay their message. Their protest style, unlike that of the Dadaists, was not based on discussion and debate and the creation of pandemonium. In fact when local council members showed up for discussion and debate, the theatre group would leave their location, because they did not perceive debate as part of their responsibility. Rather they viewed their responsibility as one focused on creating and igniting debate, in an environment where debate and discussion had been forgotten.

Their protest marches were colorful and filled with satire and comedy. They aimed to change art into social commentary, transforming it from a beautiful illusion to a biased witness of the injustices of the real world. This transformation was based on the exit of art from an environment defined by ideological rhetoric which claimed that should be autonomous and pure. Street theatre is a good example of how movements have worked through art to create change. This kind of action oriented art, intends to impact the audience and their approach toward and understanding of social realities, rather than present a good play on stage.

It is such that in the twentieth century different forms of social, political, revolutionary, and movement arts appear with the aim of impacting various segments of society and social and political developments through the establishment of close relationships with their intended audiences. In visual arts we can point to environmental art, or "happenings," performance art and street theatre.

Through these developments theatrical performances because of their dynamic relationship with the audience finds a broader and new place for itself. Theatre moves from limited and closed theatre halls and the stage to find a place among the people, so that it can begin to address social concerns, and in so doing finds a simple and communal language through which to communicate with its audience—the ordinary public.

Contemporary feminist movements have commonly utilized these artistic strategies and have tried to relay their issues through use of drama in a manner designed to excite the audience. The following are some examples of this type of effort:

In 1968 a US beauty pageant winner started a protest designed to protest the objectification of women by the media. During the course of this protest, in a symbolic move, women began throwing articles of clothing and accessories, such as hair clips, purses, belt buckles, tight clothing, stockings, and high heels in a garbage can. This action-based performance was shared with ordinary people on the street, who in response also took part in the protest.

In the 1990s a group of female artists, writers and poets initiated a project by the name of "Silent Witness" in an effort to protest the increasing number of women murdered by their partners. This group built about 27 simple wooden statues and carved the name of a woman who had been victimized as a result of domestic violence on each of the statues. "Silent Witness" members holding these statues then marched through the streets of their city. The success of this project was such that in 1997 fifty US states had acquired a collection of statutes. According to the members of "Silent Witness" their goal was to reduce the number of murders resulting from domestic violence to zero by the year 2010.

In 2003 a coalition of women activists, in an effort to protest US war policies and expenditures, utilized an innovative awareness raising approach. The members of this Coalition calculated the amount of contribution of each individual tax payer toward defense spending, and distributed copies of tax returns with the amount of individual contribution toward defense spending to citizens across the city of New York. Additionally the members of this Coalition used comparative figures demonstrating how these expenditures could be used otherwise to provide assistance to poor women and children.

In 2007 one of the most recent examples of such actions took place in front of the US Congress in Washington, DC. In this performance, which aimed to protest the war, approximately 40 persons dressed in sheep's clothing and set out to engage with ordinary citizens and onlookers.

While many of these efforts do not meet the necessary criteria to be considered as an artistic act in its classical and purest of forms, they still enjoy an essential element of creativity and protest which seeks to engage and is able to impact thought in ways similar to a live performance.

Contemporary Iranian Feminist Artists

The contemporary cinema of Iran, which addresses socials concerns and has received much acclaim for its creativity faces many challenges. Most notable of the challenges faced by Iranian cinema is censorship, such as that witnessed with respect to the screening of the works of Jafar Panahi, the censoring of women's singing, lack of ability to address the concerns of or even the existence of homosexuality, and lack of space for the expression of the most basic of women's demands. In fact, the censorship is so great that often the consequences of speaking about issues which are deemed to be taboo include interrogations and imprisonment.

Women's issues in particular are viewed as highly political in Iran. Approximately 50 of my closest friends in the One Million Signatures Campaign have been arrested due to their activism on behalf of women's rights. Two of these women were arrested and subsequently spent two weeks in prison while photographing a street play on polygamy.

Despite all these pressures small groups of feminist artists insist on continuing with the production of their works. They create short videos with feminist themes which are shown in private galleries and gatherings. They create posters and clips designed to protest the arrest of their friends or to express their demands for women's rights. They create short documentaries which are shot covertly, or like Raha Asgarizadeh, who took photographs of a feminist street play a few minutes before she was arrested, they work to document social events addressing women's rights through art. These artistic productions speak of a new type of visual arts in Iran, a feminist art, which seeks to move in opposition to the status quo and through its mere persistence and resistance seeks to express itself.

These are artistic creations which will in all likelihood never be archived and registered, and will in all likelihood escape notice by most Iranian art historians and art sponsors, who are accustomed to the usual and predominant forms of artistic creation and expression and like to view paintings in galleries, films in cinemas, and posters on main city billboards.

Creative Action

Presentation of art on the street is one of the most notable examples of the dialogue of art with the public and one of the main strategies for breaking free of the closed space and elite nature of the arts, to develop a direct and unmediated relationship with society as a whole. Compared to art which is presented in galleries or theatres, where the audience chooses with awareness to engage with art, street art through a different form imposes itself on a broad public audience which is diverse in nature and background.

The presence of protest in the form of art on the streets in societies with unpopular and undemocratic governments is viewed as highly political and is therefore controlled and limited. Despite this reality, the street or public sphere remains the most viable option in terms of physical space for expression of protest, especially for those who are denied the space to express even the slightest of dissent.

The presence and the showing of films on walls in the street and in public spaces by protest groups is a concept unfamiliar and possibly incomprehensible to those of us who have not had the opportunity for take advantage of public spaces for the simplest forms of expressions. Still the showing of a few short independent street plays with limited news coverage in Tehran, demonstrates that the presence of independent art groups intent on expressing their demands and working to create change is possible.

These types of artistic expressions can take shape through interaction and in direct relation to other dissenting forces and social and political movements. Because art in its most common and typical form is a part of the stale cultural industry and works to justify and promote the status quo, even protest art will be assessed based on and in relation to the dominant and common political structure. Ultimately protest movements must seek to create and promote art that is spontaneous, low cost, and educational—cinemas of sorts which correspond to the nature of the movement and offer innovative and new commentary and interpretations of what is not readily visible or perceived as valuable. Promoters of "happenings" through similar experiences have denounced artistic values which ultimately end in justifying and confirming the interests of existing political systems. In their view artistic works are not that useful or sustainable, and as such they should be used to create a development or happening that impacts the perception and thinking of the audience.

Another factor which differentiates protest art is its style of presentation. In essence the presentation style of this type of art is a major characteristic defining its identity and its ability to have impact through protest. Because those groups who create protest art tend to lack financial resources, poverty for them has transformed into a necessary strategy for resisting the status quo. They use low cost spaces such as garages, inexpensive public halls, empty houses, demolished buildings or ultimately the street for their performances. This type of presentation results in discussion and debate and ultimately because of its shock effect and ability to impact social perception can be viewed as an effort working to bring about a cultural revolution.

For example, this style of presentation in theatre and film, despite its impact cannot endure a long life, because there is lack of understanding and often resentment on the part of the audience, who is accustomed to viewing film and theatre in large and technologically modern theatre halls. The discomfort felt among the audience with respect to the form of presentation can also be viewed positively in terms of the impact this approach may have on undermining the concept of maximizing profits in capitalist societies or even questioning the usefulness of technology. So if the aim of this style of film and theatre and their presentation is to create a spark of thought, which is exemplified in the reaction of the audience, then it has been successful even if on a small scale.

Protest art uses the concept of games as a strategy for impact as well. While a game in and of itself may not be useful in igniting thought and discussion or creating change, in this form it can serve the aims of protesters. The light and lively atmosphere created through games allows the audience to abandon its belief system imposed by a dominant political and patriarchal structure and begin to ask questions. The disobedience that exists in games and then the presentation of ideas and invitation for scrutiny through the presentation of artistic works breaks the sacred male value system. Games as described by Grisbakh, lack strict rules and the need for technical knowledge and allow us to exit our own experiences and perceptions. By positioning games in the public view, even through an unaesthetic form, the artistic work is able to have impact even through the creation of discomfort.

Today despite all the limitations women's rights activists and feminist movements face in Iran, art has opened up a new path for the presentation of ideas and for establishing relationships with our intended audience. Art allows us to connect with people, while providing a cover so that we can hide from the scrutinizing gaze of governments intent on stopping us. Art combined with a feminist message has allowed us to break the stillness of closed spaces and enter the public sphere, through street theater addressing women's issues, through visual representations of women's struggles and through the power of the internet. We have started an important journey in Iran, but still have a long way to go.

Sources:

1-Théâtre de " Pain et poupée " œuvre de Françoise Korileski publie par Ghatreh,2004
2-Dada art and anti art, Hans Richter, Thames & Hadson, 2001 3-Dada and surrealism, Mattew Gale, PHAIDON, 2002
4-Attaque contre la situation existante, Sabient fon Direkeh, 2002
5-Politiques dans les rues, Asef Bayat, Shirazeh, 2000
6-Théâtre expérimental,James Roose-Evans,2003

Via Change for Equality , Payvand , Photo for Change

Monday, 14 September 2009

An upside down world

The man in the suit is French conceptual artist Philippe Ramette and the gravity-defying view from his perch is not a trick. How on earth does he do it?

Irrational Contemplation, 2003 (detail). Photograph: Philippe Ramett

The French artist Philippe Ramette believes nothing should ever be faked. His improbable, gravity-defying poses might look like classic Photoshop, until you notice they are peppered with little incongruities. "You see a tension in my hands, my red face is far from serene as the blood rushes to it, my suit is ruffled."

A sculptor, Ramette rose to fame in the 90s as part of the French contemporary art scene, creating strange wooden and metal instruments and objects. Photography was the logical next step, and through it he has created an odd, neo-romantic universe, using a carefully planned, rational approach to create totally irrational situations. In France, his bizarre images have been compared to the work of Buster Keaton and the world of silent cinema. For him, they are a statement about gravity, weightlessness and man's relationship to the landscape.

Ramette, who still sees himself a sculptor rather than photographer, goes to extraordinary lengths to create his implausible set-ups, building hidden metal supports that he calls "sculpture-structures". Metal rings tether him by the ankles as he hangs motionless from the Grimaldi Forum building in Monaco, his trousers and tie strapped down and his hair gelled flat to give the impression of being upright. Above a winding road in southern France, a metal seat hidden by his suit juts out from a slab of rock, holding him up. Both photos are then turned on their heads. Every image is the exact reproduction of one of his drawings; sketches that he considers to be film storyboards, reconstructed by his faithful team while he directs the image. "I never question whether it's going to be complicated," he says.

In Balcony 2, he is standing on a balcony in the middle of Hong Kong harbour, contemplating the sky while seemingly managing to levitate above the water. He says the image first came to him in a dream in the mid-90s. For the shoot, a watertight tank served as an underwater float for the balcony, put in place by a barge and crane. Ramette then secured his feet on supports, leaned back and clung to the wood. During the initial attempts, he was soaked by waves and had to swim to safety.

He craves an effect of absolute, implausible serenity. For the series Rational Exploration Of The Undersea, he wore lead weights under his suit and around his ankles, having convinced a team of divers to work with him in a minutely rehearsed underwater escapade off Corsica. When Ramette needed air, a diver would swim over with an oxygen tank, but before shooting his team had to wait for the whipped up sand and bubbles to clear in order to achieve the effect of stillness. "There I was in a suit on the seabed, weighed down and able to walk underwater as if on land, unaffected by the currents. For me, that was a real pleasure," he smiles.

Balcony 2 (Hong Kong), 2001. Photograph: Philippe Ramette
 Reversal Of Gravity, 2003. Photograph: Philippe Ramette
Rational Exploration Of The Undersea: The Contact, 2006. Photograph: Philippe Ramette

Rational Exploration Of The Undersea: The Wait, 2006. Photograph: Philippe Ramette
Rational Explanation Of The Undersea: Irrational Walk. Photograph: Philippe Ramette


by Angelique Chrisafis

Saturday 12 September 2009
The Guardian

Saturday, 12 September 2009

Iran Inside Out review round up - 56 artist survey show in New York described as mesmerising, a privilege

56 contemporary Iranian artists are presented in the attention-grabbing and timely Iran Inside Out exhibition at Chelsea Art Museum in New York (June 26 – Sep 5 2009).

Surprisingly – or perhpas not – only 35 artists in the show reside inside Iran and the other 21 dispersed outside Iran. Together they contribute 210 works of painting, sculpture, photography, video, and installation on themes such as gender, war, and politics. Complemented with forums and film screenings, theatre performances, music recitals, and panel discussions, Iran Inside Out is part of Chelsea Art Museum’s 2008-2009 “The East West Project”.

In this round up, art experts and critics from the New York Times to the Huffington Post give their perspectives on this exhibition and report that they are enthralled, mesmerised and surprised. In this rich and challenging show unexpected findings and themes abound. Be sure to scroll down and read Huffington Post’s Marina Bronchman who discovers a controversial new view of the veil and its effect on sexual and gender expression.

Pooneh Maghazehe, Hell’s Puerto Rico Performance Still, Digital C-print 2008 copyright artist and courtesy Leila Taghinia-Milani Heller Gallery

In Search of the Axis of Evil
Exhibition section: On War and Politics
Alireza Ghandchi, photographs
Behrang Samadzadegan, There is No One Here But Me, 2006, acrylic on canvas
Behdad Lahooti, A Cliché for Mass Media, 2008, ceramic
Nicky Nodjoumi, The Guard, 2007, oil on canvas
Sara Rahbar, Did You See What Love Did To Us Once Again Flag #32, 2008, mixed media
(from left to right)
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Alireza Ghandchi
From the series Pathos, 2006 (left), Photograph, 50 x 40 cm
From the series Hemd, 2007 (right), Photograph, 50 x 40 cm
Exhibition section: In Search of the Axis of Evil / On War and Politics

Behdad Lahooti, A Cliché for Mass Media. 2008, Ceramic with print over
Exhibition section: In Search of the Axis of Evil / On War and Politics

Jinoos Taghizadeh , Rock Scissors Paper. 2009, On Lenticular Print
Exhibition section: In Search of the Axis of Evil / On War and Politics

Arash Hanaei, Abu Ghraib (Or How to Engage In Dialogue). 2007, Digital prints
Exhibition section: In Search of the Axis of Evil / On War and Politics

From Iran to Queeran and Everything in Between
Triptych by Darius Yektai; mixed media sculpture by Shirin Fakhim; in the background, Reza Derakhsahni (60 pieces)
Exhibition section: On Gender and Sexuality
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Shirin Fakhim, Tehran Prostitutes. 2008, Mixed media sculpture
Exhibition section: From Iran to Queeran and Everything in Between / On Gender and Sexuality
© Photo: Courtesy of Ministry of Nomads



Newsha Tavakolian, Maria. 2007, Print on photography paper
Exhibition section: From Iran to Queeran and Everything in Between / On Gender and Sexuality

From Iran to Queeran and Everything in Between
Installation with apples: Amir Mobed, Virginity, 1995 - 2009
Hanging piece by Pooneh Maghazehe
In the background (left to right)
Khosrow Hassanzadeh, Pahlavan II Ready to Order, 2008
Sadegh Tirafkhan, Sacrifice Series, 2003
Ramin Haerizadeh, Theater Group, 2005
Exhibition section: On Gender and Sexuality
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum


Iran Recycled: From Vintage to Vogue
Pouran Jinchi, Alef Series, 2009
Elmer’s glue and Ink and varnish on canvas
In the background: Samira Abbasy, Eternal War, 2009, oil on gesso panel
Exhibition section: On Reinventing the Traditional Art Forms
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Farideh Lashai, I don’t want to be a tree. 2008, Video projection on canvas
Exhibition section: Iran Recycled: From Vintage to Vogue / On Reinventing the Traditional Art Forms
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Siamak Filazadeh, ROSTAM 2 The Return. 2008, Photomontages
Shiva Ahmadi, Oil Barrel No. 3,4,5. 2009, Oil on Steel
Exhibition section: Iran Recycled: From Vintage to Vogue / On Reinventing the Traditional Art Forms
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Siamak Filizadeh, Rostam Marries Tahmineh. 2008, Digital print on canvas
Exhibition section: Iran Recycled: From Vintage to Vogue / On Reinventing the Traditional Art Forms

Shiva Ahmadi, Oil Barrel No. 5. 2009, Oil on steel
Exhibition section: Iran Recycled: From Vintage to Vogue / On Reinventing the Traditional Art Forms

Works by Daryoush Gharahzad, Bita Fayyazi, Arash Sedaghatkish, Arman Stepanian
Exhibition section: Where in the World: City Quiz / On Street Culture within Tehran 
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Bita Fayyazi in cooperation with Rokni Haerizadeh
The Purple Scream. 2009, Fiberglass, acrylic and watercolor
Exhibition section: Where in the World: City Quiz / On Street Culture within Tehran
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Arash Sedaghatkish
Untitled. 2008, Watercolor on paper
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum

Shoja Azari, Windows Animation. 2006, Animation HD Video
Exhibition section: Where in the World: City Quiz / On Street Culture within Tehran

Pooneh Maghazehe, Embroidered dresses. 2008
Hell’s Puerto Rico. 2008, Performance still
Exhibition section: The Culture Shop: Special Sale on Stereotypes - All Must Go! / On Culture as Commodity
© Photo: Courtesy Chelsea Art Museum


Chelsea Art Museum: Curators Sam Bardaouil and Till Fellrath

The curators explain that Iran Inside Out defies the traditional perceptions of Iran and Iranian art:
An intimate look into the people, both inside and outside a country that is more complex than images of veiled women, worn out calligraphy and what a handful of other emblematic images would suggest…an examination of the means through which a young generation of artists is reconciling the daily implications of cultural and geographical distances with the search for individual artistic expression…offers an unexpected insight into the artistic energy of a culture that is constantly evolving as Iranians living both in and out of the country, come of age living and working in contentious societies.

(Art Radar editor note: the curators of Saatchi’s Middle Eastern show ‘Unveiled’ (in which Iranian art predominated) earlier in 2009 also claimed to go beyond the ‘worn out’ to present a more nuanced and alternative view of art from the Middle East - this was hotly contested by some reviewers who were surprised to find that, on the contrary, bloodshed, repression and gender inequality were ubiquitous and courageously expressed. See related posts section below for the review round up of Saatchi’s show).

Yet there are differences between insiders and outsiders say the curators:

Ironically, contrary to one’s expectations, the artists living abroad often draw more on their cultural heritage, while those on the inside focus more on issues of everyday life without much regard to what ‘the outside’ views as specifically Iranian references. Yet, within these disparities, one element stands strong: the recurrent references, sometimes ambiguous, at times emotional, often nostalgic and on occasion satirical and even tragic to Iran the country, Iran the past, the Iran which has been lost and that which could be found.

New York Times: Holland Cotter
Holland Cotter elaborates on how Iranian cultural references run through the show in this 30th-anniversary year of the Iranian revolution. For this critic, whether inside or out, artists are in touch with their cultural history.
Golnaz Fathi, who lives in Tehran, walks the line between calligraphy and abstraction in his paintings; so does Pouran Jinchi, who lives in New York. The heroic epic called “The Book of Kings” is given an action-hero update by Siamak Filizadeh of Tehran, but also in film stills by Sadegh Tirafkan, who spends part of his time in Toronto.
“Zaal arrives to help Rostam, ROSTAM 2 The Return” by Siamak Filizadeh(2008)

Female artists are given the spotlight, too:
Alireza Dayani’s fantastical historical drawings; Newsha Tavakolian’s photographic study of a transsexual; Saghar Daeeri’s paintings of Tehran’s boutique shoppers; Shirin Fakhim’s sculptural salute to the city’s prostitutes. Abbas Kowsari documents cadet training for chador-clad female police officers in Tehran. Less interestingly, Shahram Entekhabi draws chadors in black Magic Marker on images of dating-service models.

However, not all of them advocate social causes. Some artists employ a less aggressive tone:
Ahmad Morshedloo’s tender paintings of sleepers, Reza Paydari’s portrait of school friends and the mysterious little films of Shoja Azari are in this category.

Nevertheless, ambiguity does not equate with absence of politics in these artwork:

Repression both inside and outside Iran is under scrutiny in a piece by Mitra Tabrizian about the roles of both the West and Muslim clergy in Iran’s modern history. In photographs by Arash Hanaei, brutal scenes from the Iran-Iraq war and Abu Ghraib are played out by bound and gagged dolls.

Flavorpill New York: Leah Taylor

Sara Rahbar, ‘Flag #5′, 2007. Textile/mixed media, 65×35 inches

Taylor praises Iran Inside Out as one of the timeliest exhibitions in history:
With violence and political unrest roiling in that country, this exhibit takes a closer look at its inherent contradictions, tradition, culture, identity, and struggle — especially as faced by its younger generation of artists. As gruesome descriptions and footage of the election-protest clampdown continue to slip through Iranian censors daily, having Iran Inside Out’s creative insight into the country seems a privilege, indeed.

Huffington Post: Marissa Bronfman

Shocked and enthralled by the creative artwork at the exhibition, Bronfman comments:

A sense of duality was apparent in all the various pieces I saw at the exhibit, and there is an interesting geographical duality influencing the artists as well. The artists still living in Iran must struggle with avoiding government censors while not compromising with self-censorship, and those living outside strive to assume an “unlabeled artist-status” within a West-centric contemporary art world. The museum reminds us of their important commonality, however, such that all 56 artists desire to “establish an individual artistic identity free from the stigma of “stereotype” and “locality.”

She explains what draws her the most about the Tehran Shopping Malls by Saghar Daeeri:

Saghar Daeeri, Shopping Malls of Tehran – Acrylic (Aaron Gallery).

The paintings came to life with a stunning palette of vibrant colors and women depicted in a grotesque, almost fantastical rendering. Heavily made up faces, lacquered nails and peroxide hair instantly made me think these Iranian women were influenced by typical American ideals of beauty. However, Hanna Azemati, who works at CAM and presided over the show, offered a wonderful perspective that I hadn’t originally considered. She told me that, “Because of the compulsory veil, women express their femininity through venues that are allowed in exaggerated ways. They resort to excessive make-up, overdone highlighted hair, thin eyebrows, long colored nails and even suggestive behavior.” This dualism that Iranian women must grapple with, between veiling and self-expression, was communicated with profound contradiction and was really quite mesmerizing.

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