Ali Banisadr’s Fractious Paintings Are a Reflection of Our Turbulent Times

Artnet spoke to the Iran-born artist ahead of his first solo show in Asia at Perrotin Shanghai.

The Fortune Teller, 2024. Courtesy of the artist, Perrotin and Artnet.

by Cathy Fan, Artnet

The moment I stepped into Ali Banisadr’s studio, I was transported from the sounds of cicadas and the heatwave of a New York midsummer into a tranquil but mysterious world. The spacious, partially skylit, white-walled studio was filled with open books, cut-out references from Old Master paintings and frescos, and, of course, the large-scale canvases he’s been working on.

Banisadr’s studio is located in a quiet neighborhood in Brooklyn, where he lives with his family. “I never had about 70 feet of space to step back from and look at the painting from far away, and make decisions,” the 48-year-old Iran-born artist said, explaining how having more physical space has changed the scale of his canvases. “Since I’ve been working here, the work has changed because I’m able to step back and see the whole composition and the details.”

Leila Zelli foregrounds Iranian women’s protest movement at the Toronto Biennial

The artist’s videos and installations reinterpret acts of resistance staged in the streets and on social media

Leila Zelli, Un chant peut traverser l'océan (A chant can cross the ocean), 2023-present. On view at 32 Lisgar as part of the Toronto Biennial of Art, 2024. Co-presented with MOMENTA Biennale de l’image with the support of the Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec. Photography: Toni Hafkenscheid. Courtesy The Art Newspaper.

by Hadani Ditmars, The Art Newspaper

The day that Iranian Canadian artist Leila Zelli installed her works at the Toronto Biennial of Art (until 1 December) was the two-year anniversary of the death of Mahsa Amini. “It was a coincidence,” the Montreal-based Zelli tells The Art Newspaper, “or was it?”

The work that Zelli calls “stamp art” is, like much of her recent oeuvre, inspired by the Women Life Freedom movement sparked in Iran and around the world by Amini’s death. As she created the temporary installation on the walls of 32 Lisgar St and Park—one of the main hubs of this year’s Toronto Biennial, whose title is Precarious Joys—she says, “It was moving for me, a mix of joy and frustration. But ultimately, I felt it was an act of resistance.”

Her installation at the biennial is part of an ongoing series called A Chant Can Cross the Ocean, featuring ink and acrylic prints of women removing their headscarves based on social media images and footage of protests, as well as birds as symbols freedom. Painted over two walls connected by a vertical joint, the latest iteration of the series is designed to be walked through, requiring the viewer’s participation. As one passes through the work, the crowds of protesters move with the viewer, who automatically enters the scene.