Amsterdam-Budapest and the focus on Iranian art

Earlier this month I have visited Amsterdam-based FOAM photography museum to check Kaveh Golestan's The Citadel 1975-77 photo documentary project of Tehran's Shahr-e No red light district. Literally translated as a "New City" Shahr-e No was an old 1920 neighborhood that got surrounded by walls in 1953 exclusively inhabited by female and young male prostitutes. The entrance to the ghetto where prostitutes were walking on the streets semi-naked was through one gate and only men were allowed to enter the citadel. 

Few weeks before the victory of the 1979 Islamic revolution the activists burned and demolished the "sin city" with undisclosed number of residents trapped inside, the survived inhabitants were later executed as a part of post-revolutionary cultural cleaning. The area has been converted into a recreational zone with a park and a pond. Thus, Golestan's photo archive is one of the few remained documentations that trace back nowadays unspoken and shameful part of Tehran city's history. Women most of whom he befriended during almost two year-lasting project are humanized through the lens of Kaveh's camera that captures natural, non-staged moments of their daily lives. Vintage photographs together with a newspaper compilation, Golestan's diaries and other materials such as Iranian authorities documents as well as audio-taped interviews of the women living in the citadel immersed me in their ambience of misery and despear. 

Shahr-e No's citadel 1920 plan

Kaveh Golestan's The Prostitutes series, 1975-1977. Source: artist's website

This week theme of Shahr-e No unexpectedly reappeared during my Hungarian Easter getaway at Budapest's Mûcsarnok with New-York based Shirin Neshat's small, but very powerful video installation exhibition. This first Budapest solo show comprises from a surrealistic two-channel 1993 Rapture video shot in Marocco and a twenty-minute chapter Zarin where the leading role is played by a Hungarian actress Orsi Tóth. This 2005 piece is about Shahr-e No resident Zarin who decided to flee the ghetto and her humiliating present. A part of the artist's bigger reclaimed project based on 1989 Women Without Men novel by Shahrnush Parsipur, this video chapter is aesthetically and eloquently reveals an unpleasant and controversial topic of women in society and their sexual exploitation.

Stills from Shirin Neshat's 2005 Zarin video 

Shirin Neshat's 2009 Silver Lion awarded Women Without Men trailer with English subtitles

Shirin Neshat's 2009 Silver Lion awarded Women Without Men full movie in Farsi

Post-screening discussion with Shirin Neshat and Shoja Azari

Note: Kaveh Golestan's exhibition in FOAM lasts until May 4, 2014 and Shirin Neshat's - April 27, 2014.

Rumi and some modern beats

Performed by an Iranian singer Hani Niroo this music piece most probably won't leave you indifferent, especially after you understand the lyrics by Mowlana Jalaluddin Mohammad Balkhi better known as ‘Rumi’.  

from Acid Pauli's Get Lost 2012 album

from LLUVIA BLANCA ALBUM MIX 2012 Katermukke

Sitting here, You and I

Sitting here, you and I, the courtyard breeze is cool

Two images, two forms, one thought, you and I

The orchard-shades, the songs of birds give up the world’s secrets

When we find ourselves here in this garden

The stars of distant galaxies come to gaze on us

You and I, together, we show them the moon

You and I, without ‘you’ and ‘I’, we are absolute joy 

Happy, free from empty words, such are you and I

All those birds of paradise, full of childish envy 

While in that same place, you and I, we cannot help but laugh

What’s truly strange is you and I, here together, now

At once here in the west and at once here in the east

such we always were

You and I

For more contemporary Persian poetry, I recommend to check Forugh Farrokhzad whose revolutionary sensual and profound oeuvre were bold manifestations of her essence, her thoughts and constant search. 

Here's an excerpt from her “Window” (1967) poem:

When my trust hung from the thin thread of justice

And the hearts of my lamps were smashed into tiny pieces

All over town

And the childlike eyes of my love were blindfolded 

With the black kerchief of law

When blood was gushing forth from the anxious temples of my desire

When my life was nothing other than the ticking of the clock

I realized that I must love

That I must madly love.

When my life was nothing other than the ticking of the clock

I realized that I must love

That I must madly love.