Empire and its Discontents Exhibition

and its discontents

EMPIRE

A

pop-up book installation, resembling a book big enough for Paul Bunyan’s child to read, displayed a political hodgepodge of Barack Obama in a neon green wrestling outfit holding fistfuls of cash, and Hilary Clinton as a robot promoting healthcare. Familiar images of the cute, Iranian girl from Marjane Satrapi’s animated film Persepolis graced

the walls of the gallery. This exhibition, Empire and its Discontents, heavily leaked politics from every corner. The curatorial process was organized in tribute to Edward Saïd, a Palestinian American literary theorist who argued against western imperialism and romanticization of eastern Asian and Islamic culture. “A lot of people these days practice yoga as a trend, or tend to say they follow Hinduism or Buddhism when they don’t have a clear understanding of these religions.” said artist Kamrooz Aram.

Saïd’s book, Orientalism, is thought of as the handbook or guide to taking a stand for eastern Islamic culture. Saïd denounced generalized discriminations that were developed by the U.S., such as how Muslims and Arabs are thought of as terrorists or oil suppliers. He reveals how there is overwhelming European influence over Arabic culture, and that much of modern Arab history has been deposited in, and physically imprisoned by Europe. As a child, Saïd felt alienated and had trouble identifying himself, according to his autobiography, Out of Place. Similarly, artists featured in this exhibition address questions of self-identity as well, and connect with Saïd on the basis that false assumptions of the west create difficulties in identifying with eastern culture. With works ranging from American household products to generic revolutionary and spiritual figures, the exhibition holds the work of people who believe their role as artists constitutes of more than just creating art.

These artists have a social responsibility and political relevance as well. The exhibition was structured to work as an outlet for the execution of these beliefs.

An arch made out of derelict red wall and crumbling gray stones was the entrance to the exhibition, instantly setting a slightly ominous and serious mood. Kenneth Tin-Kin Hung’s eight by eight by eight-foot pop-up book installations were hard to ignore, drawing viewers deeper inside the gallery to get a better look at George Bush and Britney Spears, all of which were extracted from Google images.

Kenneth Tin-Kin Hung

Next to Hung’s work was the Supermarket series by Moshiri and Aliabadi, which recalled Andy Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans, but with brazen political messages. A disturbing and powerful image of an advertisement for detergent with images of a woman using the product to wash away the blood from her husband’s shirt was among many of the blunt references to the negativity of U.S. globalization. Saïd asserted that as people living in the U.S., we belong to a scandalously wasteful society.

Projected on an open gallery wall was Zoulikha Bouabdellah’s Black and White #2, a video project of an Arab woman singing the U.S. National anthem. We are uncomfortably exposed to the confusion of the identity of the Arab woman due to American influences. It felt like I was walking through the pages of the artists’ journals, seeing their frustrations and emotions hung up on the walls of the gallery. The placement of the paintings clearly defined each artist’s space, leading the viewer to delve further into the gallery with each new set of works. Satrapi’s work was organized so the viewer could see the transformation from her original illustrations to her graphic novels. Mark Shetabi’s work was composed entirely of oil paintings, except his model, Backyard – a Persian Garden.

A conspicuous room glowing with light housed Shetabi’s work based on past memories, allowing the viewer to step into the innocence and purity of his childhood mind. The paintings were organized in a way that implied a sense of fluxus, bringing the viewer in by car, and sending the viewer out by airplane. “My works revolve around big narratives,” said Shetabi. “I like to illustrate distant things that are simultaneously banal elements you interact with everyday.” Consequently, none of Shetabi’s works blatantly illustrated political issues, but they were nonetheless powerful.

The first painting, A Thousand Miles, depicts the gold colored station wagon Shetabi’s family bought when they first moved to Iran. All of his paintings have a painterly style that is also impressionistic.

The memories from which Shetabi is recalling to create these works are obviously distant. The fuzziness and lack of clarity in his paintings echo his struggle to remember. Shetabi uses pastel colors such as soft greens and light reds that indicate what these objects would have looked like to a child; light, inviting and simple.

Shetabi might have based his paintings on his childhood in order to call attention to the innocent who are affected by imperialism. A strong message is created here in regards to how children are not exempt of the restrictions and discriminations that come hand in hand with the oppression of an empire.

By recalling his childhood, Shetabi is now placing it in a larger, political context.

Similarly in Satrapi’s novel, Persepolis, a good portion of her story is based on her experiences as a child. What children see and experience stay with them for the rest of their lives and help mold their views as adults. Shetabi’s paintings emphasize the impact of childhood experiences, and show how although young and naïve, children understand what is happening in the world, especially traumatic experiences.

Shetabi made his childhood home in Iran, Backyard- A Persian Garden, the centerpiece of his gallery room. He used acrylic, salt and Plexiglas to construct the simple model. The model was not impressively detailed, and instead, was a simple depiction of a white cube-like house, with a pool, windows and a door left ajar. Shetabi’s fascination with architecture is drawn from the notion that architecture survives time periods when ideologies of that time period have long gone. The viewer must strain to get a good look at this work because the view is distorted and partially blocked. Shetabi believed that “the act of looking was never neutral and always constitutive of power relationships.”

The concept of empire lies behind invisible power, said Shetabi. Caspian Sea Hotel is an illustration of the invisible power that existed in Iran during his childhood. In the 1970s, many American hotels were built in the country, and it signified westernization taking place in Iran that did not coincide with the rest of Iranian culture. Shetabi described the hotels always being forlorn and empty. Iranians were not used to American hotels, but the hotels were built anyway because of western influences. The people of Iran walked by these hotels everyday, not realizing that the hotels signified another country’s power over their own. Saïd often argued that American intervention only took place in Iran after the U.S. became interested in oil and weapons of mass destruction. The truth was Iran’s human rights issues had existed since 1948, long before the U.S. decided to take action. Many Americans may have known this already, but the message of these artists’ works reminds the viewer that the war is not over, and the problems still exist.

The exhibition can seem a little overwhelming at first, with the Black and White #2 video playing the Star Spangled Banner over and over again, and Aram’s images of revolutionary figures with bursts of floral and flames emitting from their mouths. The painting serves as a debate within itself. Were these revolutionary figures spiritual leaders or radical Shiite clerics? The paintings could be placed right-side up or upside down, depending on the viewer’s opinion. The struggle with identity is again illustrated in Aram’s paintings, but this time the struggle lies within the ability to identify political figures as good or bad.

Saïd’s own identity was a victim of the establishment, unable to return to his birth-place and gain access to his family property in Jerusalem. He often suggested that he belonged to two worlds, without belonging completely to either one.

This exhibition was not constructed under the avant garde notion of art for art’s sake. These artists took it upon themselves to defend human rights and a culture that has been misinterpreted and misused. Notably, the artists who participated in this exhibition were not necessarily ones who came from an Eastern background, but were people who cared enough to take part in this project. Although each set of works from every artist was aesthetically pleasing and engaging, the real purpose of the show was to inform and ideally, to promote action and awareness. All the artists must have breathed a sigh of relief as a new viewer stepped into the gallery; signifying another victory over ignorance, and another person informed about issues that should not be ignored.