by Bahamin
Azadi, Tehran Bureau
The
history of mural painting returns to the first efforts of human beings to trace
their experiences and thoughts in pictorial form in an effort to communicate
and adorn their lives. The term comes from the Latin word murus,
"wall." Urban murals are distinct from other forms of painting in
that they bear the feature of "publicity" -- in other words, a
painting that is created in public for the public.
In the
modern era, across different societies and cultures, mural painting has
generally reflected the political atmosphere of the time. Murals have been used
to express protest and a desire for emancipation. Through their use of symbols,
murals have the power to express narratives that promote social awareness and a
variety of minority and socioeconomic class viewpoints.
Bringing
art into the public sphere is one of the most important characteristics of
murals. In numerous societies -- especially ones, such as postrevolutionary
Iran, that are highly politicized -- they tend to express the ideological
values of the state because they are almost invariably commissioned and
sponsored by the government or its affiliated organs. Art, and in this specific
case, murals, can perform the role of a vital medium for the expression of
ideological, economic, social, and cultural change. This is because they are a
"place" where everyday life, publicity, and artistic expression cross
paths.
The Mexican
muralist art movement, identified with painters such as Diego Rivera, David
Siqueiros, and José Orozco, is perhaps the best-known of this genre. Other
countries with important traditions of political mural painting include
Northern Ireland, Colombia, and East Germany. In each, murals played an
important role in reflecting changes in the political culture through the
depiction of subjects ranging from religion to sex.
Murals in
modern Iran and elsewhere have often served the role of creating public awareness
of certain issues and in decisive ways performed the function of sociopolitical
critique, as well as reinforcing political and community identities. The mural
has the power to act as a mediator between the public, the government, and
artists. This relationship is complex and very prickly at times, especially
when, as is so often the case in Iran, art is politicized and politics is
aestheticized.
Murals
have the power to open up for ordinary people ways of seeing that are not their
own and help them take control of the way they view the world around them. This
isn't always the case, and it's clear that murals equally can have a negative
effect under certain circumstances, especially when in the hands of an
unaccountable and/or ideologically driven state. Totalitarian governments use
murals as a means to grab people's attention and shape their
politico-ideological convictions through the occupation of public space.
The mural
expresses the values of its creator as a form of art immersed in its social
context. In postrevolutionary Iran, because of their immersion in the social
context, murals are rarely neutral or disengaged but rather advocate a
particular worldview or normative understanding of the world. Many exhort with
messages that glorify the values of the Islamic state and the religious moral
code of which it claims to be a faithful advocate and enforcer. Qur'anic verses
and sayings of the Prophet Mohammad and the Shia Imams, along with homilies and
edifying verses from classical Persian poetry, blanket the city. Murals with
this sort of content can be understood as an extension of the state's authority
as guardian of the public space and its "moral probity."
Paradoxically, both the people and the state know very well the
"effrontery" to such values perpetrated behind the doors of average
Tehran residents, who dare to hold mixed parties with Western pop music and
suggestive dancing, and those of government officials alike.
A key
function played by murals is the engendering of changes in the values of those
who see them on a daily basis. This is a long-term process, which takes effect
at both a conscious and unconscious level. In the mural paintings found in and
around Tehran, we find many that convey clear messages meant to influence the
people who live or work nearby and pass them on a regular basis. The effect of
murals on the aesthetic of the city and people's sensibilities and feelings has
the capacity to educate and inform them. They can also serve as highly
effective propaganda weapons, demarcating perceived threats to all that is
"good" and "wholesome" within the society.
After the
Islamic Revolution of 1979, revolutionary mural paintings proliferated across
Tehran in an often disorganized and unpredictable way, in step with the
revolutionary zeal that characterized the first years after the Pahlavi
monarchy's downfall. The government didn't dictate where murals ought to be
drawn and self-proclaimed revolutionaries painted when and where inspiration
struck. There was as yet no formal authority for the commission and oversight
of murals. Political organizations close to the government, such as the
Foundation for the Oppressed and the Foundation for Martyrs and Veteran
Affairs, were the most prolific patrons of wall murals during this period.
The main
goal of mural painting was the remembrance, re-creation, and revival of
revolutionary passions in the name of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the founder
of the Islamic Republic. Murals also served as ideal vehicles for the
revolutionary state to heap admiration upon the heroes and victims of its
interminable war with neighboring Iraq and to galvanize the population in the
name of the "greater good," the "Imam," "Islam,"
and the "vatan" (homeland). As the conflict dragged on and
spirits flagged, murals sought to boost morale. They also allowed those not on
the front lines to connect to the "heroics" on the battlefield and to
band together on behalf of the values propagated by the state. Famed martyrs
would find themselves "immortalized" on the walls of the cities from
which they hailed, encouraging a spirit of "sacrifice" and
"transcendence." Murals also provided a significant public outlet for
the Islamic revolutionary leadership's denunciation of the West and
"Western perfidy," held as implacably hostile to the Revolution and
all it represented.
The
institutionalization of ideas and ideals, comparable to the Mexican
revolutionary mural movement of the 1920s and 1930s, is one of the most
important characteristics of this generation of mural paintings in Tehran.
Technically speaking, there was little if anything innovative about the
postrevolutionary Iranian paintings, and to that extent the analogy with the
Mexican movement is wanting. Indeed, in terms of technique, Iran's
postrevolutionary paintings are arguably far closer to the genre of Soviet
realism. The well-known Iranian Assyrian artist Hannibal Alkhas (1930-2010),
for instance, painted murals throughout the city with his students that
explored themes addressing radical issues in anti-imperialism. The mural on the
wall of the American embassy is among his most iconic and famous works.
Another
important artist of that period was Bahram Dabiri (1950-), responsible for a
major mural at the south Tehran bus terminal. Reflecting upon his revolutionary
murals some decades later, he stated that his aim was to
change the public's very identity through the artistic representation of social
and political messages. Dabiri proposed to the municipality that he take as his
canvas the bus terminal because it was a heavily trafficked space, where the
effect of his murals would be amplified by the station's repeated broadcasts of
revolutionary anthems. The public, witnessing the painting created before them
as they went about their daily lives, would imbibe revolutionary consciousness
into their quotidian existence, so that the two became a seamless unity.
After a
short time, however, Dabiri's bus station mural was erased as the Islamic state
sought to forcefully stamp its control on the images that helped define the
visual landscape of the metropolis. The problem, according to the authorities,
was an excess of the color red in the painting, thought to indicate that its
sympathies were communist. Today, Dabiri contends that this period of painting
has little artistic merit because, as a sociopolitical phenomenon, the
Revolution cannot or rather should not be aestheticized, since it is almost
invariably detrimental to art to put it in the service of political ends.
The
murals that depict the "purity" and the "holy" struggle of
those who fought and were martyred in the eight-year war against Iraq rely on
an iconography of blood, birds (symbolizing freedom), guns, and soldiers'
battlefield appurtenances, such as thermoses and fatigues. Some recent
Persian-language critiques pointing to the prevalence of such images have
contended that while no doubt important as a reminder of the sacrifice so many
young people made in the course of the war effort, long-term exposure to such
images day in and day out may not only distort viewers' aesthetic sensibilities
but damage their psychological well-being -- they are examples of "visual
pollution," to use a term employed within the fields of landscape design
and urban theory.
These
mural paintings that have spread around the city in ad hoc fashion have in
recent years been criticized for lacking artistic value. They have also become
damaged and antiquated. Their moral, sociopolitical, and religious messages
loom in striking contrast to the traffic jams, trash, and other urban eyesores
around them, along with all the other unhappy features of city life, such as
domestic violence, drugs, poverty, and prostitution. Moral clarity and morality
ambiguity collide. "Purity" and "degradation" and
"filth" stand side by side, contradicting one another and yet unable
to efface each other's presence. (Some practitioners of mural art state that
their true role is to transform the neighborhoods where they paint into more
pleasant and comforting ones for their inhabitants and others who frequent
them.)
Another
irony is the juxtaposition of commercial billboards and revolutionary murals --
gratuitous luxury and the pretense of austerity and humility, again side by
side. A new class of wealthy Tehranis has sprouted up, many of whom derive from
the political and mercantile elites instrumental in the religious-revolutionary
mobilizations of the late 1970s and early 1980s. This class has in many ways
come to embody the strange tensions between humble religious origins, newfound
wealth, and political power. Similarly, while the first revolutionary murals
were explicitly painted for the purpose of espousing anti-imperialist and
anti-American sentiment, some 30 years later murals across Tehran coax
revolutionaries-cum-consumers to spend their hard-earned money on the hottest
brands and latest technologies. And these billboards are painted in the same
style as are the murals of Iran's revolutionary leaders.
Place-memory
in urban life is formed on a day-by-day basis, a process in which murals can
play pivotal roles. The manner in which our memories become associated and
intertwined with places leads to an emotional connection. As a result, we find
we can be both repelled and attached to certain locations.
The
photograph at left shows a mural on Enghelab (Revolution) Avenue, the second
longest street in Tehran, which connects its east and west sides. Many
thousands of pedestrians and cars pass down this street on a daily basis;
jammed with traffic most of the time, its sonic ambience is defined by the
honking of horns and blaring car stereos. Visual pollution and noise is
characteristic of this street, which has been a venue for demonstrations and
other political activities since the Islamic Revolution.
This wall
painting seek to demonstrate the "fatherly," "watchful
benevolence" of the Supreme Leaders of the Revolution, who are always
depicted in larger scale than any other figures with whom they might share a
given mural -- in this case, a young soldier who fought in the Iran-Iraq War.
Religious and political hierarchy is thus continually reiterated and
reinforced. After 30 years of such images, one wonders how they are now
received by most Iranians and whether they have fallen into obsolescence,
become no more than reminders of a past age rather than testimony to a dynamic,
youthful city. One wonders whether such images do not merely breed further
resentment at the state's failures, magnifying discontents accumulated over many
years.
Moreover,
while such images can potentially contribute to a kitschy form of tourism,
particularly among travelers from the Western hemisphere -- for whom such
sanctification of political leaders is increasingly unusual -- this genre of
public art, laced with anti-Westernism, has probably served to turn off many
more potential tourists from visiting Iran.
The idea
of "gharbzadegi," or "Westoxification" -- the term was coined by the Iranian
intellectual Jalal Al-e Ahmad in the 1960s -- informs the official political
creed. It also stands as a reminder that the state sees itself as predicated on
"cultural independence" from the Western world. Western cultural
encroachment -- or "cultural onslaught" (tahajom-e farhangi),
as official organs often put it -- is regarded as a pressing threat to the
Islamic Republic's identity, if not its very existence. Most murals are thus
still intended to perform the role of reminding Iranian citizens that they are
expected to remain faithful to the official ideological cast of mind and uphold
its values in their daily lives.
There are some interesting trends
that break with the orthodoxy of the past three decades. For instance, today
one can find murals in many cities that attract Iranian tourists from different
parts of the country. Their sites have been adopted as scenic spots, where
families may visit and perhaps picnic nearby. This remodeling of the function
of the mural, in addition to encouraging domestic travel in some modest way,
also appears to be having an incremental impact on the visual culture of Iran,
which has grown weary of images of the past.
Unlike
the conventional images that stress anti-Westernism and hostility to foreign
influences, some contemporary murals bear the unmistakable influence of
European and American styles of painting, embodying a stylistic eclecticism,
toward which state pronouncements have often expressed antipathy. Whereas much
of the official imagery depicted in murals explicitly and implicitly informs
Westerners that they are unwelcome on the streets of Tehran, many recently
painted murals in the capital completely avoid that antagonistic aesthetic.
Examples
of the latest generation of mural paintings in Iran tend toward relatively
apolitical subject matter and are less inclined to exalt revolutionary values.
Many reflect the everyday life of Iranians or portray calming natural
landscapes. They are more colorful and decorative, as opposed to emotive, and
no longer attempt to inspire or mobilize in the name of a cause.
This new generation of murals began to appear in the 1990s. In 2001, under the presidency of President Mohammad Khatami, a special department for mural paintings and graphics was established by the Tehran municipality. In 2006, I conducted an interview with the department's head, who told me that mural paintings in Tehran had progressed substantially and recent stylistic changes and technical innovations echoed in important ways those found in other world capitals and metropolitan centers. Although he spoke about some of the problems presented by the first generation of wall paintings, specifically the issue of "visual pollution," he still did not have a clear position on the issue of erasing the city's many old, worn, and damaged murals that reflect outdated ideas and obsessions. He told me that a lot of time would need to be spent on considering what would be painted in their stead. His department's actual power is limited mainly to preventing other agencies from commissioning murals without its authorization. Its role is for the most part technical and advisory, including weighing in on artistic issues and matters of taste.
This new generation of murals began to appear in the 1990s. In 2001, under the presidency of President Mohammad Khatami, a special department for mural paintings and graphics was established by the Tehran municipality. In 2006, I conducted an interview with the department's head, who told me that mural paintings in Tehran had progressed substantially and recent stylistic changes and technical innovations echoed in important ways those found in other world capitals and metropolitan centers. Although he spoke about some of the problems presented by the first generation of wall paintings, specifically the issue of "visual pollution," he still did not have a clear position on the issue of erasing the city's many old, worn, and damaged murals that reflect outdated ideas and obsessions. He told me that a lot of time would need to be spent on considering what would be painted in their stead. His department's actual power is limited mainly to preventing other agencies from commissioning murals without its authorization. Its role is for the most part technical and advisory, including weighing in on artistic issues and matters of taste.
Despite
the many aesthetic, technical, and political problems in the field of Iranian
mural painting, it seems that lessons are gradually being learned. As a result
of the work of courageous artists, and even some conscientious local
authorities, there is reason to believe that mural painting in Iran's capital,
as well as its other major cities, has a vibrant future.
Related reading | Tehran: Paradox City 1 | Tehran: Paradox City 2 | The Writing on the Wall
Via Tehran Bureau
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete