Synaptic

Artwork

A Voice from Iran

By Emalea Diehl '17

LAS 110: Creativity and Human Nature

I was wowed by Emalea Diehl’s, “A Voice from Iran,” when I read it the first time and I still am. The research paper asked students to address how a visual artist examines the issues of identity and difference in their art making. I was impressed with the maturity and sophistication of writing that was exhibited and with Emalea’s ability to interweave her own voice to the level of the cited passages that she used. In particular, Emalea wrote eloquently with a fullness of understanding about Shirin Neshat’s movie, Women Without Men.

– Brian Roberts


“I’m interested in juxtaposing the traditional with the modern, but there are other more philosophical aspects that interest me as well—the desire of all human beings to be free, to escape conditioning, be it social, cultural, or political, and how we’re trapped by all kinds of iconographies and social codes” (Heartney 239). Photographer and videographer Shirin Neshat, an artist originally from Iran, explores fascinating and controversial subjects using art as her medium to allude to her thoughts and ideas. Neshat grapples with the struggle of identity and the role she as a woman plays in Islamic Iran and its contrast to her experience in American culture and society through her art. As she embarks on this journey, she begins to discover the identities of women as a whole that surround her, and consequently, her own identity. Although all of her works, complex and rich in meaning, deserve recognition and observation, time only allows for the exploration of her expression and identity in a few of her works—the poignant, fierce photography collection, Women of Allah and her arresting and moving film, Women Without Men.

When searching for threads of identity and self-expression in the works of an artist, it is essential to know the background of the individual to more fully understand the current positions and expressions the art takes. Jerome Bruner expounds on this idea of identity and self, noting “we constantly construct and reconstruct a self to meet the needs of the situations we encounter, and do so with the guidance of our memories of the past and our hopes and fears for the future” (Bruner 45). Thus, by reviewing Neshat’s past experiences and childhood, it is easier to understand her current art and the messages it conveys.

In an interview with Scott MacDonald, Neshat shares her childhood and early adult life experiences. Spending her childhood in Iran, Neshat grew up with her father’s influence to pursue education and opportunity. Nontraditionally, he extended this mindset to both his sons and his daughters. After an education in a Catholic boarding school, Neshat joined her siblings abroad to continue her education through high school and college in the United States. Out of all her sisters, Neshat was the only one to remain in the United States and finish her college degree, graduating from U.C. Berkeley and continuing on to gain her Master of Arts and Master of Fine Arts through Berkeley. After spending a few years creating what Neshat calls “mediocre art,” she discarded her work in art, instead focusing on her job with Storefront for Art and Architecture, a non-profit organization created by Kyong Park, Neshat’s husband at the time. She attributes her time there as her real art education. After ten years with Storefront for Art and Architecture, Neshat stepped away from the job, eventually turning to her own artistic career (MacDonald 11-20).

Around this time, Neshat made her first trip back to Iran after over a decade of absence, primarily for the purpose of reuniting with her family as well as her country. As she expounds upon this trip to Lila Zanganeh, Neshat describes her journey back to Iran in 1990 as life changing. With the Islamic revolution, the country had gone through extreme alterations and seemed a terrifyingly different world than the one she had left behind so long ago. Although it initially brought up numerous emotions, ultimately it lead to fresh inspiration for her art—it gave her a purpose (Zanganeh 46). This purpose is what drove her to resurrect her work in art, giving her a passion and a subject. In the beginning, her art was not overtly opinionated, and she simply attempted to record and interpret what she was experiencing in her return to Iran and the Islamic revolution. As she uncovered more about what was really happening, however, her position became more unforgiving. With her open judgment of the treatment of women, she was forced into exile (TED).

Addressing a myriad of social, as well as personal concerns in which she herself was caught in the middle, Neshat conveyed her thoughts and opinions in regards to feminine status inconsistencies and conflicting identities through her art as a female Iranian. Because her work appeared to ring in support of the chorus of Western idealism—values such as personal choice, individualism, and liberty—critiques and discussion around her art focused on the political stances as well as the feminist messages (Heartney 230-233). Slowly, her focus toward women, specifically women from Iran, began to develop. In her work, Women of Allah, Neshat begins to display her response toward the treatment, attitudes, and roles of women. By portraying Muslim women through the political lens, while still depicting their authenticity, Neshat opened a window into a world of the silenced and invisible for her Western viewers (Heartney 233).

Her series of images, Women of Allah, invoke questions more than any other response. The stimulating and somewhat shocking images consist primarily of a covered woman holding a gun in various positions, in many instances, pointing the barrel at the viewer. In most of these pieces, Neshat herself is the primary photographed subject. She has intricately added ancient Iranian poetry on any visible parts of the woman’s skin in most of the photos.

The photos seem to suggest that she herself is at war. Torn between her cultural and religious customs of Iran and Islam and her desire to be free from the suffocating treatment of her sex, she is swimming in conflicting emotions. Although her work clearly expresses anger, it also alludes to a sort of frantic sensation of being trapped, as this same culture and religion is a part of her identity. To separate seems impossible. In addition, her experience with Western idealism has not been entirely liberating. In her other works, she refers to the void she feels with the encompassing individualism of the West. Responding to questions regarding her “Women of Allah” series and its translation, Neshat comments, “You have to keep in mind the context in which this work was made. I had no art career; I was not thinking about audience since I didn’t have any; I was making this work for myself “ (MacDonald 36). Eleanor Heartney points out in her commentary on Neshat’s work that “critiques that situated her within what would later, post 9/11, be dubbed ‘the clash of civilizations’ and acclaimed her as a symbol of resistance to Iranian repression, miss much of the complexity of her work” (Heartney 230). In other words, if the viewers easily label her one way or another, they are not looking close enough. The underlying message is rich with obscurities and conflict.

Daringly, after completing the series, Neshat chose to alter the angle with which she approached her work as well as the medium of her art from photography to filming. Believing that it would broaden the scope and effects she desired her art to produce, she plunged full-force ahead into this new venture (MacDonald 40). The medium of film proved to be a successful vehicle, allowing her art to take the expression a step further. With the new form came fresh ideas, taking Neshat to a variety of different places. Because she had been exiled from Iran, Neshat traveled to numerous countries such as Turkey, Morocco, and Mexico to form her work and emulate Iran by recreating similar cultural depictions (TED). She has created a number of short pieces, each lasting around ten minutes in length.

One of her biggest projects, Women Without Men, was completed somewhat recently, releasing on April 9, 2010, in the United States. The film, adapted from the book Women Without Men: A Novel of Modern Iran by Shahrnush Parsipur, follows the lives of four women from unique, distinct backgrounds, ranging from a wealthy upper-class position to the status of a prostitute. As their individual struggles and oppression by the men accelerate, their worlds begin to collide as they are driven together through a mysterious garden, guarded by a caring elderly man. To their utter relief and amazement, three of the women find refuge in the garden. Slowly, they begin to heal. However, eventually, their utopia is shattered by the inevitable reality of a depraved world, and the film ends with a sobering tone, leaving the audience uncomfortable and unresolved. The motion picture captures a glimpse at the ache and longing the women are consumed with—as one of the women articulates in the closing scene, “All that we wanted was to find a new form, a new way. Release.”

For a motion picture, Women Without Men stands out in its artistic beauty, exploring surprising shots and angles. The soft, subtle use of color and lighting lends it an almost portrait-like quality while presenting entrancing cultural displays and representations of Iran. It is distinguished by its minimal use of dialogue; more is spoken in the spaces of silence than what is articulated in the verbal exchanges. Compared to other contemporary films, its plot moves slowly—yet at the same time profoundly, to the viewer that reads between the lines. The end goal is to ponder, question, and linger in the ambiguity of injustice through art, versus the goal of many traditional films to entertain. Women Without Men accomplishes this feat with haunting beauty and quiet power.

True to form, Neshat does not seek to answer questions, but to raise them. In an interview, she said of her artistic work as a whole, “it does not offer one-sided answers, because it challenges our political, and aesthetic stereotypes…purposefully, I was not giving my point of view, and that disturbed many viewers” (Zanganeh 45). The film forces the viewer to wrestle. Unrelenting, it does not offer any sort of resolution or solution for the treatment of women. Later on in this interview, when discussing the role of women in Iranian society, Neshat goes on to point out that feminism exists in Iran; it simply plays itself out in deeply contrasted ways compared to Western society. She states that women are neither victims nor completely submissive to men, voicing her surprise at the indignation this opinion raises in Western-Iranian women. She believes that women have gained recognition in Iran and still possess it today through their own battle-efforts, and that it continues to grow (Zanganeh 47). In some ways, she herself seems to be groping just as much as her viewers for answers, not only about women, but also about herself. She points out that although women are suppressed and stifled, they still have a voice—regardless of whether or not it is heard. She fights fiercely for the recognition that women possess a strength and fortitude that is significant and enduring, regardless of whether they are overcome by another or not. Neshat does not possess the answers for change nor does she pretend to. She simply cries out for recognition and release to be free.

Although only a few of her works have been showcased, Women of Allah and Women Without Men, it is clear that Neshat’s abstruse and complex analysis of women in Iran through art is also leading her down a path towards her own identity. The road is still winding and largely unknown, but she continues on, unafraid of overstepping the boundaries of political correctness and preconceived notions of expression and social identities. Her journey is not without cost, but she embraces her position despite the personal expense. As she states in the closing of a speech, “Iranian women have found a new voice, and their voice is giving me my voice. And it’s a great honor to be an Iranian woman and an Iranian artist even if I have to operate only in the West for now” (TED).

Works Cited

Bruner, Jerome. “Self-Making Narratives.” Intersections: Perspectives on Human Nature. Ed. Intersections Council. Littleton, MA: Tapestry, 2013. 45. Print.

Heartney, Eleanor, Helaine Posner, Nancy Princenthal, Sue Scott. After theRevolution: Women Who Tran formed Contemporary Art. Munich: Prestel Verlag, 2007. Print.

MacDonald, Scott. “Between Two Worlds: An Interview with Shirin Neshat.” Feminist Studies 30.3 (2004): 620-659. Print.

“Shirin Neshat: Iranian visual artist.” TED. The Sapling Foundation. n.d. Web. 5 Nov. 2013.

“WOMEN WITHOUT MEN (FULL MOVIE) PART 1.” Online video clip. Youtube. Youtube, 7 Sept. 2013. Web. 14 Nov. 2013.

“WOMEN WITHOUT MEN (FULL MOVIE) PART 2.” Online video clip. Youtube. Youtube, 7 Sept. 2013. Web. 14 Nov. 2013.

Zanganeh, Lila Azam. My Sister, Guard Your Veil; My Brother, Guard Your Eyes. Boston: Beacon Press, 2006. Print.