Iman Afsarian

Invitation to a Divine Interference

Regardless of being technically more sophisticated than his older works - which is an indication of a deliberate evolvement in his practical and painterly practice as well as the development of his language and expression - Iman Afsarian’s recent body of work could potentially or essentially be considered more as a “series” even though this might have not been what he intended. 

This could be because of a theme all seven images share at first glance: they are all images of night and four of them, maybe for the first time, portray an exterior scene. Iman Afsarian has vigilantly stepped outside in this series; he has humbly left his studio and selected, accordingly, a calm nocturnal practice and empty passages to be able to preserve the image economy of his former works. This has been realized through a still and full-face perspective lacking the presence of humans or any other moving creatures, along with some architectural elements and other substances that frame the image and lay an emphasis on it.

In my opinion, however, the abovementioned characteristic is not limited to the unity of theme. In fact, I would like to suggest a prospect or proposition in viewing these seven images in this little chance that I have. It could be said that these images portray various moments, or are in fact different places or shots from the same moment: the moment of standstill or interval that has occurred since daily activities and hurries are faded. These are like chains of silent and still shots [in a movie] that are shown before an event takes place, or examples of a cinematic visual effect that are used in many feature films to show moving from one place to another, from one period of time to another or even for changing the camera angle. They are like inserts with limited and specific function that are dissolved in the narrative sequence of a film. Here, however, these conventional and transitory images have turned to the point of halt, pushing away major events that happen before or after them - or they actually stand on the edge of something.

These are concurrent images of indoor and outdoor with silent urban voice-overs: the silent sounds that are heard from inside, from behind a window, from the viewpoint of an observer who is looking outside the windows with a hidden anxiety – despite the dominant tranquility and silence – to what is there and what used to be there (day and all that it carries): an exterior view of a residential building or an errand on a side road; an alley and the lamppost against which branches of a tree rub, a fragment or part of a wall, a lamp or any other thing that is left unattended.

Like a blind spot or a blurred vision, these images distort the performance of the “hyperactive” landscape of the bigger reality and the artist embarrasses that reality with his gaze. These still and silent images summon the entire controversial presence of a particular historical reality and force them to be accountable.

If some of the older works of Afsarian were on the verge of being simplistically nostalgic, the risk of being so is less in his recent works. More than being a moment of personal experience of beauty (in the past), these images raise a general question that is rooted in a personal standpoint, like any other real question.

But what follows this pause and interval? What do these images expect or what space do they open? With a kind of written gambling, the series could be considered as a kind of religious question versus a historical reality. The “pre-event” pause, halt and void of these images in the constant flow of reality have a divine resonance. One of its indications is the significant presence of light (“artificial”? “natural”?) in the images. It spreads out as a non-material element from within and behind and inside things, objects and buildings and sometimes turns reality into a thin layer, an empty three-dimensional object (like the image of an old building with a background of night sky.)

Beyond this general quality, however, particularly two works from the series find a religious tone. From this perspective, the other works could be considered as an introduction to or an indication of this obstinate and persistent inquisition. I am directly referring to “Virgin Mary” and his latest work: the secluded tri-armed lamppost in front of a wall with the stone floor of an unidentified place (I can even see these two images as two altars of a Mihrab.) One of the best pieces of the series, “Virgin Mary”, is a big work despite its minimal nature: what has taken shape in this work required a kind of arena or a “ground”; it required a void in which something could form, could sprout, which is materialized as a nail in the middle of the composition (this image could be taken as the radiography image of Virgin Mary’s abdomen!). This image is a kind of contemporary “annunciation” with light and “frame” as its key players: a humanistic (finite) composition through which (infinite) something spun – a light with a semi-hidden source whose presence has been made possible, without hurting our eyes, by the top sill. This is a light that puts forward an alternative yet immanent potential.

Majid Akhgar

September 2016