Haleh Anvari: Beyond the Cliche

Image from Chador-nama

The black chador has irrevocably become what Iranian photographer and writer, Haleh Anvari describes as Iran's visual shorthand, its unregistered trademark. Haleh's quest to deconstruct and liberate the chador from reductionist stereotype occurred as a byproduct of her relationship with the foreign press reporting in Iran and that of the chador itself. Her determination to re-present the chador has resulted in the photographic projects, Chador-nama, Chador-dadar, and Peace Chador, and the performance-work, Power of Cliche.

Having studied politics and philosophy at university in UK, Haleh returned to Iran and worked as a local translator/producer for foreign journalists covering Iran. “I was a product of two cultures and it subsequently gave me license to see both sides of the coin, so to speak,” she remarks. One thing that she consistently observed while working with foreign press was that the black chador had become synonymous with Iran; regardless of the issue being reported on hand, it was the sole image being transmitted of Iran. "I was unhappy that they would see my country exclusively through that lens and I was always trying to make them see Iran differently," she says. 

"After six years of working as a 'sidekick', I started writing for myself but the Iranian authorities were not happy and subsequently, banned and threatened me," she reminsces. "I got stuck in the house with lot of bitter and depressive thoughts...and it was around that time that I received a digital camera as a birthday present."

A definitive encounter with the chador also deeply impacted her. "I was driving down a street when I saw a woman in a chador rush to me, there was so much swagger in her walk - and it made me angry! It made me think at that point how the Iranian system had somehow made me feel separate from them the way I was dressed," she says. Coming from a chadori family, Anvari mentions that as a child, she perceived it an aspirational garment, describing it as "cuddly and a safe harbor." So where did the alienation and disconnection to the chador spring up from? "Wearing the chador was no more about a personal choice of modesty; it had become a political statement instead," she says.

Image from Chador-nama

Image from Chador-dadar

Her engagement with the chador then occurred on a more emotional level, including and highlighting all that had been omitted from the chador's current avatar: color, light and movement in Chador-nama, significantly situating the chadors in the Iranian country-side. The chador then saw itself on a global journey in Chador-dadar. “If the chador had become an Irani icon, I thought of taking it to other global icons and photographing it in their midst,” she says; the project became a live installation and her journey took her to Jaipur and Agra in India, Istanbul, and Dubai [Dubai's landmark Burj al Khalifa in the background above]. “I learnt so much about the environment that I was photographing in," she mentions, elaborating that while onlookers engaged with the chador at Amber fort, Jaipur, for instance, she had had to model the chador herself in Turkey, where the chosen model declined to do due to her secular beliefs.

Feminism & Collage: Wangechi Mutu

Over the past few months, developing a solid artistic technique and style have been personal goals of mine.  One of  my latest "turns" has involved using the early 20th century technique known as collage.  Although the process, which literally means "to glue," is a hallmark of the modern art movement, its early forms in Art History are most often associated with Cubism, and with its primary figures--Pablo Picasso or Georges Braque.

Recently, a new friend suggested I check out the collage work of Wangechi Mutu.  Originally born in Kenya and currently working in New York, Mutu's work expresses a regal approach to collage and distills the many nuances of identity as we understand it.  As soon as I saw her work, I was reminded of Hannah Hoch's work and the concept of a "cultural self-portrait." Most of her subjects are female, and she has been quoted as saying "Females carry the marks, language and nuances of their culture more than the male. Anything that is desired or despised is always placed on the female body."


Wangechi Mutu. Adult Female Sexual Organs. 2005. Image courtesy of Saatchi Gallery Online.

What I admired about this piece from Wangechi Mutu, Adult Female Sexual Organs, is that it is a reexamination of imagery in pop culture while at the same time calling up early "modern" imagery that distorted race, sexual, and values in the public realm.  In fact, the image above is a multimedia collage that was superimposed upon medical illustration paper.  What does that suggest as a point of departure?

A lot. Especially when the connection is made to African culture. Does anyone recall the unfortunately recent repatriation of the bodily remains of Sarah Baartman, better known as the colonialist oddity, "Hottentot Venus"?

These early pseudoscientific documents prescribed animalistic features or drives to women of color. They were accepted as guidelines for understanding unfamiliar body types, skin color, and whole cultures. Many of the stereotypes still influence popular belief systems, and are actively informing social interactions.

Contemporary artists before Mutu have examined this idea, and have taken on a performance-based approach to dispelling the absolutist beliefs about womens' identities. From Carrie Mae Weems to Grace Jones, there is much to discuss and see about this complex visual history.