Day 4 – Isfahan

How to build a scene?

In Isfahan the air was cool and fresh. The city felt vibrant and easy-going, and there was music in the public park of the river-bed. But we were also told that Isfahan is in fact more religious and conservative than Tehran, and there were indeed more black chadors and religious scholars to be seen in the streets of Isfahan as signs of a strong religious presence. This was being backed up by black flags waving everywhere in the streets to mark the 37th anniversary of the takeover of the U.S. Embassy in Tehran by student activists in 1979, an annual rite of anti-Americanism. But the city still had an easy feel to it.

Everybody we talked to in Isfahan mentioned the need for a central player that could somehow act as an engine for the art scene of Isfahan. Even though the city has a history of being the cultural capital of Iran with magnificent architecture and a strong arts and crafts tradition, there is apparently today a lack of a central hub that could facilitate network, exchange and a discoursive background for the contemporary artists living and working in Isfahan.

The Isfahan Museum of Contemporary Art (IMCA) used to be the dressing house for the royal family who resided in the nearby palace (What a great idea to have a giant walk-in-closet in the back of your garden!). The building now belongs to the municipality of Isfahan, who also funds the activities of the museum. The building seems to need some love and tender care, and there also seems to be some confusion about the ‘contemporary’. A sign showed the way to ‘The Present Past’, but the present present was not so easily found.

The museum has an ambitious plan of creating the ‘Isfahan Forum of Visual Arts’. This forum would act as a centre point through joint organizational programs, inviting all relevant players from the art scene of Isfahan to join in. This may sound like a brilliant idea in theory, but it is not so easy to pull off in reality. There seems to be some scepticism towards initiatives from governmental institutions. So before anything the institution may need to gain trust from the artists and art professionals of the contemporary Isfahanian art scene first.

CC Art Space (Centre for Contemporary Creation) is the new kid on the block. Located in a nice and lively residential area where small shops lie next to busy workshops, we found the brand new and crisply renovated space. The focus of CC is to bring together people from various fields of creation by presenting interdisciplinary art practices. The space just recently opened with a solo show of Mahmoud Bakhshi who is probably the most well-known and acknowledged Iranian artist internationally. The show was beautifully installed and the framed slabs of black concrete resonated powerfully with the flapping black flags in the streets of Isfahan.

CC Art Space has the double ambition of connecting the contemporary art scene and developing the discourse of contemporary art in an Iranian context by having workshops and other forums for discussion. And at the same time to not just look inward, but also connect with the surrounding society, developing them as an audience. They do this cleverly by working together with architects and designers whose work is somewhat closer to the everyday lives of people. And by servicing local schools, providing first-hand experiences with contemporary art for the local school kids. They also finance their activities partly from renting out the upper space of the building to a visual communication agency.

We also spoke to VA Space for Contemporary Art, which is an independent art space without a physical place. The two driving forces Mona Aghababaee and Samira Hashemi also sensed the need for a hub back in 2014 and created VA in response to foster creative thinking and collaborations by connecting artists, curators, critics and writers through workshops, talks and projects nationally and internationally. VA is informally organized and pop up with activities around the city of Isfahan and elsewhere, and they now also run a residency programme to underline the importance and focus of exchange.

And then we were off for some serious bazar shopping and mesmerizing mosque sightseeing around the Naghsh-e Jahan Square, before hitting the road back to Tehran again.

Tine Vindveld

Iran: Street observations during the visitors program.

In my art practice I work in public space. In Iran public and private spaces have a specific connotation when compared to other parts of the world. Controlled versus uncontrolled space. The film “Tehran Taxi”, of filmmaker Jafar Panahi, currently under house-arrest, is for me an inspiring example of this control. By making this film he showed us the line between public and private and the necessary creativity in stretching that border.

Researching this Iranian public space in addition to the official visitors program was my parallel agenda. For this purpose I made early morning walks before the program started and paid careful attention whilst we were commuting with the group from one gallery to another.

I expected to feel a bit uncomfortable as a woman taking pictures of people, approaching them, even instructing them. This was mostly because I’m a foreigner. The reality however is quite different – I felt as free and comfortable as anywhere else in the world.

Both Tehran and Isfahan have a vibrant energy and lively street life, remarkable architecture and strange urban planning. A perfect mix. Isfahan constitutes an even more special space, a river dividing the city in half. Most of the year the river is dry, so instead of walking across one of the seven bridges, people take shortcuts and cross the dried-up riverbed instead. This results in people being temporarily misplaced, in a kind of Tarkovsky desert landscape. Beautiful!

Early morning exercises in Iranshahr park. I joined them the following Saturday and I can tell you from the pain I felt afterwards, it is not that healthy.  It does however create a positive atmosphere, this secret morning dancing. See video link: Early morning exercises

Reading before buying. Look at their body postures, each at a different stage of bending over. The news shown on all front-pages was the annual protests of the November 4, 1979 hostage event, that was ‘celebrated’ the day before.

Aligning a Belgian tourist with two trees, a study about Parallelism in Isfahan, Imam square. The woman told me afterwards she had escaped her touring group, becoming fed up with sightseeing the variety of Mosques. She definitely has missed something though, as the ones on Imam Square are incredibly beautiful. My favourite detail was the peacock on top of the Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque, which has a tale created by reflected sunlight. See video link: Aligning a Belgian tourist with two trees

A gesture of shaking hands in Kashan, seen on a replica of an illustration relating to the history of the Fin Gardens. Before entering Isfahan later that day I caught a glimpse of a real shake from the window of our bus.

Inside the National Museum of Iran I saw the statue of a Parthian nobleman with an empty sleeve. After the Museum visit I spotted something similar.

See video link: Man Meditating

Woman’s jacket (large) – mens jacket (small)
Usually, the first thing one does when arriving home is to hang up one’s jacket.

Inside the car

Retired men in Hasht Behesht Garden in Isfahan.
The song they sing is for welcoming guests ( at least that’s what they told me). See video link: retired men singing

Last slide of powerpoint presentation Contemporary Art Museum of Isfahan.

Paulien Oltheten, Iran 2016

Day 3 – Kashan & Isfahan

The road to Kashan
We are on our way to Kashan, a city 250 kilometers south of Tehran, known for its traditional architecture and craftsmanship. The vast and desolate landscape that we cross is the mirrored version of Iran’s mountainside capital city; a buzzing wonderland awash in color of countless LED lights and propagandistic murals that sprawl the city. In contrast to Tehran the desert provides a necessary break from navigating the tumultuous city.

On the road to Kashan I reflect on my first impressions of Iran. Before coming here I had imagined a society at the brink of religiosity/tradition and secularism/modernism, a strong resentment towards ‘the West’ and a dichotomy of man versus woman. I thought we would see social struggle and oppression. But these ideas fall short of what actually is. In this complex, multi-faceted society nothing is what you think it is.

Ancient tradition, religion and Western-style modernity merge in a complex way. I am told that the religious law is tangled up in an impossible marriage with a state run court system. In public spaces Qur’an ‘rules’. Beautifully groomed, mundane woman pass signs in Farsi, Arab and English (Google Translate) that remind them of important verses from the holy book. Later however, within the confinements of a living room, the Qur’an would be very out of place between the booze, short skirts and weed.

The relation with the West is also not as black and white as one would think. Explicit anti-American propaganda is omnipresent (and so is the famous Apple logo promoting perfume and grilled chicken). The nuclear deal has been welcomed with cautious optimism but hasn’t relieved the deep distrust of the United States. Then again, after talking with some of the people we met, I start to believe that aversion towards countries from the region surpasses the hatred of the USA. Some people signal a growing nationalism amongst the Iranians: a pride and confidence that is colored by a sense of superiority towards the neighboring countries.

   

To me one of the most impenetrable issues of Iran is the position of women, which is full of contradictions. The dichotomy of man and women is widely displayed in public space. Since the inception of the Islamic Republic in 1979 women are forced to wear a veil. I consider this to be a sign of repression and an implicit assumption of the control of a husband over the physical appearance of his wife. (Here I should mention that women are subject to increased legal subordination in marriage.) But the forced veiling did not result in seclusion. On the contrary, veiling has brought into the public space women from devout Muslim and traditional families which let to a significant increase in their participation in the labor market and education.

I was shocked to learn that the law prohibits women to sing and dance. They are not entitled to these basic human forms of expression! However, in comparison to the pre-revolutionary period Iranian woman have substantially increased levels of education, economic power and political participation. Many women have found there way into the highest ranks of business. There are several female political ‘heavyweights’ and even an all-female political party. What I didn’t expect is that most of the women active in politics are religious hard-liners.

Iran is a country in a state of transition (at least, this is what is propagated in ‘the West’) and as such its future cannot be easily predicted. Amongst the unpredictable aspects of such a transitional phase is the situational malleability of its political – and in Iran’s case also religious – leaders, who might modify their positions, sometimes overnight. Perhaps the looming presence of a watchful eye, the fear that the status quo will be altered by factors well beyond the Iranians control is the reason why we hear so many contradictory stories and never seem to be getting the full picture. Politics is everywhere, intertwined with ancient history, but when I ask for more details our hosts are hesitant to explain how things really work here. Many of the people from the Iranian art scène say the same thing: “We are strong under the radar”.

Just before I get fully caught up in my thoughts we arrives at the beautiful Fin Garden. We are mesmerized by Iran’s oldest and lush garden. Our large group of Westerners equally fascinates the local visitors of the garden.

  

The next stop is Kashan, where we visit beautiful examples of the cities famous Persian residential architecture from the 18^th and 19^th century. One of them is brought back to live by architect Marco, who invites is into this magnificent home. Like the other historical buildings in Kashan, his house has a modest façade, which is a deceptive prelude to what lies hidden behind the doors: an architectural gem, a hidden paradise. The traditional homes are built this way to prevent outsiders from looking in. Perhaps these houses are a good metaphor of what characterizes this magnificent country: so much stays hidden behind what you get to see on first sight. One thing I know for sure though; the hospitality and kindness of the Iranian people is unprecedented. In contrast with the impenetrable political and social tissue of the country, the doors to the homes and harts of its people are wide open.

Nathanja van Dijk

 

Day 2 – Tehran

Iran National Museum

Iran National Museum

One could say that the museum set up in the images below is the testimony of a dusty and conservative museography. Instead it gives evidence to the growing trend of over accumulation of signs in western museums, in which we see objects muted and smothered by too much superfluous information. If the classic museography is not its future, it could be one of the paths to avoid the lost of meaning in museums.

Iran National Museum

Modern technology 5000 BC .
Slandering through the warm, clean spacious galleries at National Museum of Iran one finds many examples of what we would call Modern technology 5000 BC.
The jaw drops more than once when Dr. Nokandeh (Director) talks about the objects and collection, simply because of the very advanced tools, objects, ways of thinking and working 3-4-5-6-7000 years ago.
The old-school vitrines are crisp and clean, generic constructions. German some might say. Four sides of glass, glass shelves with black numbers on clear plastic by each object and info cards printed on thick cream paper (bottom shelf wrapped in grey cotton). The logo of the National Museum of Iran (the iconic arch entrance of the museum, which again is a copy of the even more iconic Kasra arch in the Sassanid Palace Madaen Iwan, Iraq) in okra in the upper left-hand corner. Persian and English texts.
There are not many objects in each vitrine, 2-3 and 5 at the most. Here is 1 example of advanced Moving image in Modern technology 5000 BC .

Footed pottery vessel

1. Shahr-e Soukhteh – Sistân va Balouchestân
(Late half of 3^rd Mill BC)

A pottery vessel depicts a goat with horns (larger than the body itself) that in five steps moves towards a tree, jumps up, eats a leaf and comes down. The drawing on the white vase is a reddish umbra (Picasso would have died seeing this). It is not just a goat jumping up to it a leaf, well it is, but more importantly it is the first attempt of an artist to show motion through animation. Almost like frames in a movie or stop motion animation we see its movement.
In a vitrine close by we see another ceramic vase where a bird spreading its wings in three frames – also an animation 3^rd Mill before Christ!
Trade was an important part of the society back then – as it is to today – and as trade grew it was important that it was efficient and secure. We found many beautiful objects in National Museum of Iran and the traces of trade and its development is intriguing. Here is 1 example of advanced Trading Culture in Modern technology 5000 BC :

Cylinder seal

Chogha Mish (4^th Mill. B.C.)
A round clay ball with several inscriptions seal an amount of beads inside the clay. The clay ball is send with the goods by merchant. The receiver breaks the clay ball, the seal, to see if the amount of beads is equal to the amounts of goods received. I that way trade could be secured and fair 4^th Mill. B.C..
Here is 1 example of advanced Man versus God in Modern technology 5000 BC:

Human scull and mandible

Human scull and mandible, Female, (Neolithic period)

Reconstruction of intentional head shaping method of babies heads so their sculls would become flatter and thereby easier the carry and transport things on their heads as adults. Bodybuilding as Modern technology 9000-7000 BP. Man versus God.
After all, the very simple displays allow us to focus on and “encounter” the object on view and its meaning. This doesn’t mean going back to frozen classical narratives, but get rid of these immersive Luna Park’s set-ups.

        

Aaran Gallery

Following the museum a visit at the Aaran Gallery helped to expand our understanding of the complexity and richness of the Tehran and Iranian art scene, thanks to an other exceptionally warm welcoming.

More than just organizing a promotional presentation of her gallery, the director Mrs. Noebashari Nazila gathered some very well chosen guests, including the artists Hooman Mehdizadehjafari and Dadbeh Bassir, the curator and director of the New Media Society Amir Alionly, as well as the artist, critic and art historian Beharang Samadzadegan. After the lunch (some incredibly delicious traditional meals like the Aash Ghooreh soup or the Kashk Bademjoon eggplant, made at home by a talented chef from Tabriz), vivid exchanges and discussions about the Iranian artistic communities including Catherine David’s “Unedited History’s” exhibition on Iran Art (MNAM, Paris 2014), the current situation of independent art spaces and lack of artist-run spaces in the country…

At the Embassy.

Play in 3 Acts.

Act 1:
Taxi driver: Street “Number One”
Street: Fitness on the sidewalk

Billboard with tank

Act 2:

Atmosphere: The 1950s
The Nepalese chef: International finger food
Person 1: A young British writer
People: Some business cards
Interior: The IKEA Carpets
Person 2: Tino Segal should do a show in Iran
Social hub: The mint sauce
Ambassor: Speech

Person 3: HUO’s serpentine intern

Photo on cellphone: A foundation that looks like the Prada’s run down building
1% alcohol bier: 1% alcohol bier
Person 4: Iranian 1970s geometric abstraction
Person 2: Niel Beloufa will shot a film in Theran next week
Farocki expect: Don’t be soft. Tell the Iranian artist the truth about their work
Person 5: The painter removed the paint from the canvas
Person 5: You can see my collection upstairs
Gallerist: Do you want to see the works in the bedroom?
Person 6: A young Iranian curator working for a biennale in Korea
Atmosphere: The kitchen between cars on parking lots

Act 3:
Person 7: There is no more room for you in this car

Jacob Fabricius and Balthazar Lovay

 

 

Day 1 – Tehran

Monday 9.45 a.m. a group of art professionals from around Europe arrived at No. 2 Roshan Manesh Alley on a publicly funded program. In Iran, publicly funded art is less evident. On the contemporary art scene, private initiatives set the agenda. But the ways in which Teheranites structure their spaces are varied.

On the ground floor is Platform 28 that was launched in 2015 in a small modular or flexible space that functions intermittently as library, workshop and exhibition space. As the director Yassi Matinfar explained, the space aims at developing an architectural language in four different categories: built environments, visual arts, product design and wearabels. One goal is to change the perspective from construction work to architecture as a tool within other domains. Currently, Platform 28 is working on the water shortage as one of the major but overlooked problems facing Tehran. Due to leaks, every second 200 liters of water goes unused. A team of experts is working in the space on locating the subterranean waterways in order to put the issue on the map.

Apart from WO01, an art space on a few square meters of wall by the entrance hall, first, second and third floor serve as exhibition and office space for AB/Anbar Gallery. The gallery has – trough collaborations with big galleries such as Gagosian and Lisson and participation at art fairs such as Artissima this month – an international outreach. The profile, however, is marked by presentation and representation of Iranian artists. On view at the moment is the first solo show of Iranian artist Avish Khebrehzadeh. One piece is an animation of horses projected in 360 degrees top to bottom on the walls. The horses, conceived of as symbols of freedom, are all running around in circles, going nowhere. While serving us saffron infused rice topped with rose petals, Salman Matinfar explained that one of his main sources of inspiration was the gallery scene in Dubai, now the dominant commercial center of the Middle Eastern art world.

Next, the trip went to the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art a.k.a. TMOCA, internationally known for its remarkable collection of 19^th and 20^th century masterpieces such as the infamous portrait of Mick Jagger by Andy Warhol. However, as we were soon able to confirm, rumors were true. Most Western art was hidden away in the basement where a team of curators from Germany were working on an up-coming exhibition at Neue Nationalgalerie in Berlin. As we strolled down the central Guggenheimian ramp, a crew of filmmakers were working on a documentary about the museum and collection.

Whereas the collection was build on the acquisitions of the Shah’s wife, Empress Farah Pahlavi, the museum was designed by her cousin, Kamran Diba, whose work is considered an architectural gem of Iranian modernism. The whole building is a brutalistic meeting of raw concrete and lacquered wood. In line with Iranian architectural tradition, the ground plan is horizontally structured around juxtaposed squares and vertically by vaults that let in light indirectly from the side.

One modernist highlight was the clash between an Alexander Calder mobile floating in mid-air next to two portraits of Ayatollah Khoomeini and Khamenei. Others were a Donald Judd sculpture that seemed in need of a bit of love, a Henry Moore sculpture in somber shadow and a Magritte bronze in the recently opened garden.

The only contemporary art on display was a mid-career show by Iranian photographer Javedi, who had spent time in the United States decades ago, filled the entire museum with photos of sand dunes printed on canvas. In an introductory speech, Javedi made it clear that his aim was to resurrect national pride to counter American influence.

After a lunch, we went to O Gallery, directed by the energetic Orkideh Daroodi, who discovered a lack of support for young Iranian artist while working for the established Assar Art Gallery. With a program focusing on works on paper and two yearly shows of more established artists accompanied by in-depth monographs, the gallery maneuvers within a price range from 60-70 to 5-7000 €. The beautifully renovated building serves an intense program of 20 shows a year, each on display for two weeks, which gives an idea of what it takes to create a sustainable art business on the contemporary art scene in Iran.

Next on the list was the older Assar art Gallery, established in 1999 by Omid Tehrani. Director Maryam Majd presented the current exhibition of updated Persian miniatures and explained how the gallery positions itself between modern and established contemporary art, where the former finances the latter.
A recurrent topic in our conversations with the gallerist´s was the difficulty of displaying politically and socially engaged art without transgressing strict governmental policies. State agents as well as conservative journalists and citizens frequently visit the galleries in order to check on whether something illicit or unacceptable is at display.

Our last stop was at Lajevardi Foundation which made its entrance on the art scene in 2005 with publications such as The Visual Arts Magazine and Contemporary Art as well as a series of high quality books. Whereas the basement still serves as printing press for various businesses including some of the galleries we visited, the ground floor now also serves as non-profit exhibition space. One mission is to show foreign artists to a segment of the local population that doesn’t get to travel a lot. A good example is the current show that will later travel to Isfahan and lives up to the half-half policy of showing a mix of Iranian and Austrian artists.

Tokke Lykkeberg and Louise Osieka

In Anticipation of Nomadic Carpets, In Full View of Vomiting Swans.

Dear diary blog, Day 1

Did you know Iran is in it’s own time zone? It’s two and a half hours behind the Netherlands. I have no idea where the extra half hour comes from. It has yet to be found out, like much else. It is an appropriatly puzzling detail.

What a wonderful group I have landed myself in; them handsome Belgians, partially erratic Danes (not all of them mind you), investigative Swiss and grounding Dutchies – who could ask for a better fitting motley? This of course with the ever-contagious addition of a humble Iranian artist or curator and our fantastic staple Iranian/Irish artist host Ashley.

A motley crew is an informal expression for a roughly organised assembly of characters of various backgrounds, appearance, and character. Typical examples of motley crews are pirates, college fraternities, Western posses, rag-tag mercenary bands, and freedom fighters. I think I could best place us between a college fraternity and a rag-tag, but it is clearly too early too tell. I will come back with a more appropriate placement as time progresses.

Everywhere we go, we garner much attention, as folk stop and stare, much the way we do at them. It is beautiful here, and the people so curious and sweet. We are constantly complimented and welcomed. Thanks Tehran for having us, you make us feel wanted.

In the mean time, and with no illusion of being able to summarise what we are getting up to, I would here like to share some fragments of our first day! Excuses if it is is all a bit messy, it is late and so am I.

We began with a brief visit to a multifunctional art, architecture and design initiative. Outside they have a kind of manifesto, stickered up for all to read, amongst which appears: “ Platform 28 is serious. It takes the risk of appearing naïve. Platform 28 is not a gallery, Platform 28 is not a problem solver.” Our host described their current project of urgency, that being the water wastage in the city. Iran is currently with a great water shortage, whilst an ancient network of underground tunnels known as qanat is passing 200 litres a second of untapped water, supposedly to waste. The qanat technology is known to have been developed in Iran by the Persian people sometime in the early 1st millennium BC, and spread from there slowly westward and eastward. A Qanat has an aquifer as its source, typically under a hill. Together with a French architect, Platform 28 are actively seeking to bring awareness to the blindspot and potential of the system, perhaps to tap it in strategic points in order to make use of the stream. This takes part in the form of a workshop within the space, an act which can be described as a kind of ecological activism. I hope they succeed in one form or another, it is interesting on many levels.

We sit down to lunch and quite randomly manage to cluster as vegetarians on one stretch of the table. To no avail. Potatoes and some beans are what we yield, damn. Our waiter is nevertheless feverishly enthusiastic of our presence and turns on the garden swan fountain. This is impressive but immediately evident as a highly effective evaporation device. Out spews the crystal clear liquid into the midday sun, a one to one mirror of the Sisyphus qanat below.

The ancient is present, but so far the city does not explicitly wear it on its sleeve, or seem to utilise it in an accumulative fashion. Mmmm.

Ashley and I strike conversation later in the day, with some street-wise on carpets. Lord knows I want one. I’m packing cash from my folks to clad our mdf parket in Amsterdam – the chemical dust base flooring of our new home.

On carpets: “… or Nomadic?” asks Ash, in anticipation of my purchasing interests. (I will already abbreviate her to Ash, as she is so approachable and kind one can’t help but feel one had already been through high school with her).

I quote “…” here as google is down, and I can’t remember the other classification of carpet, although one can kind of identify it. It is defined by strict geometry, and is typically a factory or larger process of production by many hands. The beauty of a nomadic rug is that as part of a moving tribe (and mostly the work of an individual) and as such, the maker would being staying in an area for a short while, weaving as a kind of record of what is seen. When moving, the work would simply be rolled up then continued on the next site. So a weaver would say witness a goat on a straight or field, then attend a wedding whilst shortly in a village. The result would be a series of quite haphazard motif occurrences, strung together as nature intended, tights knots and stuff. Fantastic.

Ash then continued, (rough quote here) “My dad bought a carpet, and everyone hated it, expect for him. It has a sheep at the top corner of the rug, and that’s it! The rest is white, a big surface of just white, then THE SHEEP – just the one sheep!!! What it is, is a depiction of winter, the simple depiction of winter. Other family members would visit and be embarrassed, “What are you doing with this? It’s absurd””.

She then went on to describe how she could never really get the dust out of it. Smacking it year after year, the desert just doesn’t leave, it’s just like it’s meant to be in there or something. That was until a friend told her to take it to the car wash. She did. Now it’s clean.

I too want a one sheep winter scene nomadic carpet which I can take to the car wash. Please Iran, grant me a one sheep winter scene nomadic carpet which I can take to the car wash.

James Beckett

First introduction to Tehran, from a girl’s perspective

Tehran is an enormous city. And we’ve only been here for a short week. So I’m not sure what I can say already. But as a prequel to the orientation trip next week, it might be interesting to share my first experiences, which are still quite personal and undoubtedly biased by my Dutch perspective.

Eelco van der Lingen, director at Nest in The Hague (NL), and I were invited to lead a workshop at the Tehran Art Management Program organized by ‘dars platform’, an initiative that aims to stimulate the local art world. We discussed the topics with the organizers of the program, and together with them we decided to dedicate our workshop to the topic of Self Development. It was the last day before their final presentations and it would be nice to go back to the origins of our motivation to work as art professionals, and thus inspire and refresh the participants with the question: why are we working in the arts?

Personal backgrounds were the starting point. For example, I talked about my family of dancers, singers and musicians and my childhood fascinations for female historical leaders, European political revolutions, sci-fi tv series and American pop culture (which all somehow comes back now I’m a director at a 19th century fortress / art space). I also talked about my friends in Amsterdam, a colourful crew openly living their non-conformist lives: street life entrepeneurs, diy cinematographers, experimental musicians and extravagant stage performers. I talked about my love for exploring cities and networks on my own, and for dancing as much as I can, how the passions of ex-boyfriends influenced me too, and I praised my dear friends actively taking part in LGBTQ communities (which I couldn’t show on pictures because of Google censorship).

I realized that my life in Amsterdam is free and rich, in many senses. The day before my flight, I decided to go to the opening night of Amsterdam Dance Event. One of the venues was the Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, where I bumped into a couple of friends. We danced and laughed and drank beers, we ran into a guy I dated some time ago and we had nightly fries at the snackbar. There my friend Sofie talked about her time in Iran, where she studied for a while, and casually started to check my coat. ‘What’s wrong with my coat?’ ‘It’s not long enough.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have to cover yourself until your knees. Just bring a long coat and don’t take it off inside. And do you have a headscarf?’ ‘Yeah I have a pretty scarf that an artist designed for me awhile ago.’ ‘So that’s silk I guess. Won’t work, you need cotton so that it won’t come off easily.’ Slightly confused I went to the last show at alternative music space OT 301, alone. But left earlier to reconsider my luggage. At home it turned out I didn’t have coats or tunics that cover my knees, nor long scarfs made of cotton, and the following day I went to Schiphol with a weird and nervous feeling.

Now I’m here, I’m wearing this cotton scarf, have to cover my arms, legs and bottom, not supposed to look men into the eyes, no dance, not so much music. The first days, it struck me how consumed I was by all this. It was a distraction from my work schedule and at the same I was ashamed that I seemed to make a fuzz out of it. In the mornings Eelco was ready way before I was. I realized that Amsterdam is so unrestricted that I didn’t have any standard to relate to and I honestly couldn’t calculate what is possible here and what isn’t. You don’t want to be ignorant or offensive and Tehran’s society is vibrant as well: everyone knows that parties indoors involve fashionable dress and haircuts, alcohol and dancing too, and in the streets, men and women seem to operate more or less equally. At a certain point I got it and chose my own way to dress: loose scarfs, I bought some nice vests, and pushed the edges somewhat with wearing a short parka and cap. But what was left is discomfort: the scarf is bothering my sight, my dinner, my outfit, my hairdo, my temperature, my head– it is as if something is literally holding me down, all the time.

Most of all, I can’t get used to the fact that men are allowed to wear whatever they want, except for short pants. Sexual attraction goes both ways but that’s rarely acknowledged. Here I find myself sitting in a subway train full of men, listening to hiphop music while hiding the album covers popping up on my phone’s screen, constantly correcting myself when I start to move to the rhytm of the music, or when I feel the urge to look back when a handsome guy is staring at me, or when I feel my scarf sliding from my hair. The first days I got nervous of the idea of not being able to dance and experience local parties for one month, and anxiously started to think about how to meet people who could introduce me to underground places. Most of all I feel the oblivious Western tourist, which is rather new for me because I’m quite used to feeling an outsider, not looking originally Dutch myself.

The young women in the workshop were so fascinated by my life. Afterwards they enthusiastically told me how they listened to the same music and watched the same movies, had boyfriends and liked parties too, but always in secret. At home they were told to never talk about their indoor lives with anyone unfamiliar, until they knew for certain if they could trust someone. ‘Our identities are hidden. We all live two-sided lives.’ The girls experienced many troubles in developing themselves, especially during adolescense, with so much restrictions. And as grown up single women it is difficult to make your own money, live unmarried on your own, find a partner after divorce. At the same time, they are proud of their culture, and don’t want me to feel sorry for them or think about Tehran’s society as conservative; which is evident because it isn’t – the city has a warm, open-minded atmosphere with people visibly enjoying life and friendships.

But there’s an uncanny tension between what’s happening in the public and what’s happening behind closed doors. It’s full of paradoxes that I’ll probably never really get, and it makes me wonder what it does to the development of your own identity and your personal relations to pursue a double life.

Conversely, I started to reflect on what it means to be able to do and be whatever you want to be, to pursue your individual, pragmatic goals in secular society, to consume whatever – and perhaps even whomever – you want, and to make your choices in a capitalist context ruled by images and media. Because what is freedom, anyway? I often think about the fact that Iran is literally surrounded by regions in war and that my peers experience a constant gap between the pre-revolution generation of their parents and their own: it’s all quite overwhelming and hard to grasp.

Artists are able to push boundaries, shed their refreshing light on current situations, crictically observe or reflect on society. That’s why I feel priviliged to work with art, always and everywhere. But thinking out-of-the-box becomes even more a challenge when that box is forced upon you. I feel it is a valuable experience for us, visitors from Western Europe, to get in touch with other realities and be confronted with other possibilities and limitations, other systems of society, other frames of reference. When this relates to your physical appearance and gender identity, it becomes even more interesting – albeit annoying sometimes. But really, who am I to complain. Being here makes me modest and I truly admire the people working in the arts and in other ways pushing boundaries, women and others not being the norm, especially. All together I am very thankful for the confidence and generosity of the people here inviting me to their professional and private lives. And I am much looking forward to the upcoming weeks.

Zippora Elders

Prelude to the trip; The DARS Platform workshop program

Whilst I was preparing for the orientation trip to Iran and Armenia, a request came from the Dutch embassy asking whether I would be willing to come earlier to present as a workshop leader for DARS Platform, an independent cultural organisation in Tehran, led by platform director Ehsan Rasoulof.

A trip such as this with the Mondriaan Foundation, has the advantage of helping one to get in touch with how art worlds function in other countries, in context and culture, and is more efficient than when visiting privately, but being part of a project within the other context is maybe even a better way to get an understanding of a different situation.

In this case it involved presenting to a crowd of young art managers and helping them to get a grip with the issues they come across within the cultural world of Iran.

I did not have to do it by myself. Zippora Elders, the director of Kunstfort Vijfhuizen would join me and before traveling to Iran we sat down to discuss what we could offer the young art managers of Tehran, understanding full well that we hardly knew what was going on there.

The organisation of DARS Platform had listed some subjects we could tackle. Stress management was originally suggested as a topic I could shed some light on, a suggestion that my colleagues at Nest thought to be hilarious. Although I was somewhat offended by the chuckles that filled the office space for a while, I did agree that there would maybe be another more suitable subject to deal with.

The platform manager Faezeh Aarabi and program coördinator Elmira Hamidi suggested that we could maybe focus on self development as our presentation would be near the end of the ten day workshop program. Our workshop could help the participants to refocus on what it was they were doing it for in the end.

We decided to present the different steps we had taken in our own careers and thus helping the participants to understand that ideas have to grow, goals have to be reset at times and strategies need to fit a clear personal drive and motivation. At the same time it would give them an understanding about the Dutch situation. We would explain the different setups of the art organisations we have encountered, ranging from low budget art run spaces to museums with large teams and many different responsibilities. These presentations would be followed by a series of discussions during which the participants would present to us their original motivation to work in the arts, their experiences and the barriers they were coming across. Finally we would try to define their renewed goals and the strategies they could develop towards those goals.

In advance we we were worried we were too direct (too Dutch) in our questioning and that we might be expecting too much if we were going to discuss personal backgrounds and motivations with young people growing up in a context full of restrictions, but Faezeh and Elmira convinced us that would be no problem.

They were right. In Tehran we discovered that the participants were eager to learn and listen, but just as happy to share their backgrounds, dreams and desires. We had split the group of about twenty participants in four separate ones. When discussing their backgrounds, the first group soon realised that they all had lost their fathers and that for all four that formed an important part of their personal motivation towards the arts. Others mentioned the status of the educational system in Iran and several participants had chosen their path towards the arts in reaction to parental guidance which had led to other educational choices first. And some were able to declare with great passion that was simply no other way for them. I even recall a poem to be recited.

It was interesting that the brainstorm focusing on the past lead quickly to clear ideas, yet the future was much more difficult to grasp. Although there was great optimism on the basis of the political changes of the last two years, at the same time it was hard for them to see a possible goal or a clear strategy. Every ambition was held back by a total lack of funds, causing some to declare their goal was simply ‘to make money’. Although it was clear that they did not mean they were in it for the money (which would have meant they had chosen a quite unrealistic career path), at the same time the total lack of funds and sponsors in Iran made it difficult for them to look beyond that barrier.

It was difficult for us to conclude with a clear solution for such great challenges in one session only, but we hope we were able to motivate them to refocus beyond the money issue. No sponsor would become enthusiastic for a project simply on the basis of the statement: ‘we need money’. So it would still be worthwhile to delve into the personal motivation and into the development of projects that would be able to communicate a level of urgency. At the same time we also reminded them they were not alone, they had all subscribed for the course and therefore as a group they had a common goal. They should look at each other and see how they could help each other further on a pro bono basis. While we said this we realised that wasn’t so different as to how we had originally started of. In the art world solidarity and lending each other time and effort is maybe just as much an ingredient for a successful endeavor as funding is.

It was wonderful how open the group discussed their situation and how they were willing to share their experience, enriching us as much as we were hoping to enrich them. Although the situation in Iran is obviously different due to the political situation we quickly learned that the dreams of the young Iranian art managers are not that different to the young artists, designers, organisers and curators we know from Holland. What was surprising was the sheer enthusiasm they presented in a context so much more difficult than the one offered to the average Dutch art professional. Something maybe we in Holland may take as an example sometimes.

EvdL

 

DARS Platform: www.darsplatform.com

Ehsan Rasoulof, Platform Director
Faezeh Aarabi, Platform Manager
Elmira Hamidi, Program Coördinator

Check also the affiliated organisations Mohsen Gallery, Kooshk residency, Taedex and Deegar Platform.

 

The 2016 Trip

The 2016 trip is organised by the Mondriaan Fund.
Participating institutes are the Flanders Arts Institute, Danish Arts Foundation and Pro Helvetia.

In November  2016 a group of curators will visit museums, galleries and meet people active in the field of contemporary art in Iran and Armenia.
With the recent nuclear rapprochement, Iran is on the brink of the end of sanctions. This, along with new-found freedoms that arrived with the government of Hassan Rouhani in 2013, has fostered a sense of optimism. It seems a fortuitous time to visit the country.

More information will follow soon!