with Iranian American artist Shaudi Bianca Vahdat
Shaudi Bianca Vahdat spoke with Real Change about the importance of representation in art and how it can be a source of inspiration during difficult times.
 |
| Photo courtesy of Shaudi Bianca Vahdat. |
When documenting the stories of everyday marginalized voices, it is often those closest to the problems who hold the real stories. Stories that become intrinsically linked to the belonging, displacement and memory of the American immigrant experience.
Too many immigrant stories are not told by us, so we are often left out, hoping to see representation where we don’t often fit. When we encounter artists who are working to change the everyday narrative, who are offering a piece of their humanity to the world, hoping to be received and embraced by all, we start to see a significant shift to the national paradigm.
Shaudi Bianca Vahdat, an Iranian-American musician, theater artist and composer based in Seattle, Washington is one of those artists who see themselves as a reflection of the world that we are in. She has a background in theater, performance, producing, directing and composing for theater. She is also a songwriter outside of her theater work. Vahdat studied both drama and music at the University of Washington and earned her master’s degree from the Berkelee College of Music. Ever since she was in her early 20s, she has been a part of Seattle’s extended theater and music communities.
Real Change: Why did you decide to become an artist?
Shaudi Bianca Vahdat: Well, my father was an artist. He was a musician and a composer-songwriter. And so really, since before I was born, I was around art making, and I was around creative people, specifically music making. So I grew up like many kids do, wanting to be like my dad, and some of my earliest memories were of listening to him playing on his guitar and writing songs. Then I would write songs for myself, just make up little, you know, lullabies for myself or I had a little keyboard, and I would play around on it and try to play songs I heard or make up my songs. So my dad would, because he saw I was so interested in music, invite me to perform with him at community events, starting from when I was very young, the earliest I remember was probably in first grade. When I got used to it, I have never had a time when I wasn’t around that, and so it just feels very natural to me to create.
Then as I got older, I kind of refined my relationship with the arts and who I wanted to be as an artist. There’s this quote from Nina Simone, who was a legendary musician, who said artists have to reflect the times and this idea that as artists, we engage with the social justice issues of our times and we’re a really important part of society because of that contribution that we can make. Not just that we can also provide entertainment and give people a break from reality, which is sometimes very much needed. But as I grew up, and as I was able to obtain more education, I collaborated with like-minded artists and I realized where I was personally happiest [was] making art that I felt could impact conversations in the society around me.
You work with a multitude of art forms, which one do you prefer to work with and why? Which one do you believe speaks more to the essence of your work?
It’s a great question. You know, I always say that theater is where I feel the most comfortable, because I think a lot of that is that theater is so deeply collaborative as an art form.It’s not impossible to create theater all by yourself, but it’s pretty hard. You know, by its very nature, you need to invite collaboration. For example, say I’m working on a film. Film is also incredibly collaborative, but at least I can film myself, watch the tapes of myself, [and] give myself some direction. But with theater, you do need other people. So when I find myself away from the theater for too long, I find myself craving that collaboration, and for four weeks or six weeks, when you and your team are working, your project is the only thing in all of your lives. Sometimes it feels like that when you’re working on a project with other people.
It’s like we are all working toward this common goal, and that common goal is bringing this show to people and making it the best show it can be and we’re all working together so closely and trusting each other. As a result, we all have each other’s backs to do this and to make it happen. So that’s what I love about theater. I just love that reliance on other people, and that ability to unlock new artistic practices within yourself by working deeply with others. But I mean, my favorite role to play in theater is music. I love writing for actors. I love hearing actors interpret my songs and bring them to life, and make choices, that you know, elevate my songs. I would say I love writing music, and specifically, I love writing music for theater and writing for film as well.
How has your creative journey been? How has everything that has happened in the world influenced your artistic journey?
Well, the project I’m working on right now is called the “Golden Door, an American Immigrant Song Cycle.” It’s a musical theater song cycle with a cast of five people, and the songs in the musical are based on research and interviews I did with members of our extended immigrant community here in the U.S., so different people’s real stories are brought to life. The world around me very much shaped that. I started working on this project shortly after the 2016 [presidential] election. When I was thinking about a lot of communities that I’m close to and how the incoming administration and the changes in our country might impact them, and so out of that place came the desire to explore these stories through this project, and now all these years later, I’m still working on it.
We’re performing it this weekend at Seattle Open Arts Place, and I remember the day after the 2024 election, I was in a residency at the time and I was in my studio at my piano, working on this show because it just felt like an action. I could take even a small action, something I could do to contribute and try to help work towards justice.
How did global politics influence your art over time?
It has always been really important, the history of the building that Inscape Arts is at, the place where “Golden Door” was conceptualized, I think in a lot of ways, captures that immigration has always been an important issue in our country and that discrimination and violence against immigrants is nothing new.
However, it does feel more urgent now than ever, and I think we’re seeing some of the most blatant actions against many groups of people in the [U.S.], including immigrants, right now. So this work feels more urgent than it did even five years ago for me. By the way, when I say that I think artists have an important role to play in society, I do believe that, but that doesn’t mean I think that we’re going to be the ones to fix everything. I believe it takes everyone in our society and in our community to work together. But as artists, we have one small, humble but important role in helping to progress society and helping to protect the people who are experiencing violence and oppression.
KNKX reported that you started “The Golden Door” back in 2017 during the first Trump presidency. How has Trump’s reelection impacted the production?
I felt so many emotions, like a lot of people I know, that day was hard for them, and we all couldn’t get out of bed. For me that day, I needed to take some kind of action, and so I walked through the halls of this former immigration prison in Chinatown International District in Seattle, where I was doing my residency, and I read the research that the Wing Luke Museum has done which is on the walls of that building. I tried to write music to try to honor the people who came before and the people who are still experiencing injustice now because it just felt like all I could do. I wish that I could do so much more. I wished that I could take more action than that, bigger action than that, but that’s what I could do. So that’s all I felt I could have done.
There’s a saying that art is political; how has your art played a role in changing the political landscape surrounding Iranian identity?
I don’t know how to answer that question, other than to say, I feel grateful to be making art in a community that has come a really long way in supporting artists from many different backgrounds and cultures to tell their stories and create work. I think Seattle audiences, Seattle organizations [and] arts organizations have made a lot of progress since I’ve been here anyway, and of course, we still have a lot of progress to make to encourage everyone to tell their stories, and to create funding and safety for everyone to feel like they can tell their stories, regardless of of their identity. We need their stories and we all benefit from hearing these stories.
I think one of the ways I could try to contribute to that as an individual is I try to create roles where I can for people of diverse identities in many different ways. I have always wanted to go further with that. I want to keep going with that. I also really try to seek out art in our community from traditionally underrepresented people. I see as much art created by queer artists as I can, by people in our local deaf community [and] by people from cultures other than my own. There’s so much in this city to experience, and I think that anytime someone is honest and brings their identity to their work as an artist, it helps change the landscape for all of us. It helps create more safety and more belonging for everyone.
When the conflict in Iran was happening, what did you do to change the conversation? What is your role as an artist, and how did you exercise your role as an artist?
It was interesting because around that time, I was invited to be part of a poetry reading night at Elliot Bay Book Company, and it featured MENA (Middle Eastern and North African) poets and then I was singing some songs to kind of open the event. It was a full-packed house of people, many of them of Iranian descent, you know, others from other identities in the MENA community or the wider community and it was an emotional room. People were feeling so many different things about what had happened, and one of the things that I took away from that event was just the diversity of opinions, even within a group of people that has so much in common. There was disagreement, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think it’s an incredible thing.
That even though sometimes it can be hard to manage that conflict, to see that we can all come together and have these conversations. We had [a] kind of a Q&A forum session after the poetry readings and the music, and we talked a little bit in that event about the question on what role do we play as artists? There is violence going on, people are afraid for their lives and for their families. How do we contribute to that as artists? What is our role? I think everyone in our community has a role to play in coming together to fight injustice and promote peace. We all have to find what that is for ourselves.
How does the future of artist expression change during times of conflict? And do you believe your art practice has been impacted by what happened in Iran?
I don’t know, but I hope that it becomes a point of inspiration for the people to come to and create through.
What do you hope artists are aware of when it comes to global politics and how to utilize their art in a meaningful way? That is such a great question. You know, what’s funny is that I’m going to be serving on a panel next month in August that explores exactly that question. It’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about. There’s this Girlvolution Youth Conference at Langston Hughes Performing Arts Institute in August from powerful voices.
But, I guess my answer for this interview is just that I hope we all as artists continue to respond to the times that we’re in, even when it’s difficult, even when it feels like a risk, even when you’re not sure if it’s too much. Is it going to come off as cheesy or soap-boxy, sometimes it does. But the thing about art is you don’t know until you try. Sometimes particularly with theater and music, you can talk about an idea all day long. But until you try it out, put it on its feet, put it in the room, sometimes you just don’t know if it works. So I hope that artists of all disciplines continue to try and continue to take those risks to see what we can contribute.
Nura Ahmed is a writer, filmmaker and organizer based in Seattle and South King County. Nura is currently writer with South Seattle Emerald. Her writing explores immigration, identity, art, and belonging.
Via Real Change
No comments:
Post a Comment