Through the looking glass

>> Photographer and filmmaker Shirin Neshat shines light on gender issues, spirituality and other complexities of Islamic culture

by GENEVIEVE PAIEMENT

In times of war and political crisis, art sometimes has an almost unnerving way of tapping into our unconscious fears and ideals, addressing issues in a way that the nightly news simply couldn't fathom. Take for instance, the Canadian Museum of Civilization's panicked postponement of their Islamic-themed exhibit (The Lands Within Me: Expressions by Canadian Artists of Arab Origin) a few weeks ago. Due to public outrage, this was quickly followed by an embarrassed "on with the show" about-face.

As fate would have it, this city is also hosting a timely exhibit of art that examines Islamic culture--in a sweepingly beautiful, stream-of-consciousness manner. I'm referring, of course, to the work of Iranian-born, New-York-based Shirin Neshat whose photography and film installations are now on display at the Musée d'art contemporain.

Neshat moved to the U.S. to study art in '74, only to be exiled from her home country until '90 because of the Islamic revolution. When she finally returned, she found the nation completely transformed and, began exploring the complexities of the Muslim world, especially pertaining to the strict gender divide, through her art. The Mirror caught up with Neshat in New York City, where she lives and works, to talk about the holy trilogy of politics, art and religion.



Mirror: Although your work is often abstract and your portrayals of Muslim life are symbolic and lyrical tales, somehow they remain inherently political. Why is that?

NS: I consider myself like a poet who is interested in the reality of everyday life. And the reality of everyday life is inseparable from politics and societal issues, particularly when dealing with Islamic culture. That doesn't necessarily mean that I'm interested in politics, it's just that I'm responding to issues that affect my life and people around me. I would never want my work to be seen as an expert point of view or clarification of the clichés or controversial aspects of Islamic culture, because it's not designed to do that. The good thing is that my work continues to raise a lot of controversy and dialogue. A lot of it is so subconscious, I don't even know sometimes exactly what I mean to say with certain works.

M: What kind of controversy does it tend to raise?

SN: Sometimes it's about whether I'm for or against the Islamic regime, or if I'm trying to promote or criticize Islam. Some devout Muslim people have thought that I'm trying to make fun of or disrespect their culture. Other people have thought that I'm supporting Islamic revolution by focusing so much attention on it. But I don't care how they read it because I don't have a particular position, I think that would be dangerous.

Islam 101

M: What do you think of North America's clamouring to find out about Islamic culture, like CNN's mini "lessons" on the subject? Has this affected the attention that is paid to your work?

SN: It makes me think a lot about my Women of Allah series that I developed from '93-'97 and I think people were really thrown off by it at the time. It's not on display in Montreal, but it very specifically dealt with the issues of martyrdom and terrorism, violence and the whole philosophical conception of faith becoming so overpowering that one is so willing to sacrifice one's life. But now, when I look at these programs, like CNN explaining Islam and why terrorism exists, I think, "My God, this is the subject that I was obsessed with a few years ago." A lot of people couldn't relate to it then. Now, when they look at those photographs, they see them with a different eye, because the magnitude of the situation is so great now. But, I don't know if it's positive or negative that people are paying attention to my art or Islam because it's a hot subject. I do think that this is the best time for Westerners to take a very deep look at the situation of the Muslim peoples--good and bad--and try to face the reality, because for a long time it's been avoided and it's been such a mystery.

M: Why did you focus on women, when these violent, suicidal acts are usually committed by men?

SN: Because women were very much part of it. In fact, when you talk about the notion of martyrdom, for me it was an another example of a complex cultural paradox--these Muslim women are portrayed one way, but in fact they are not that way at all. Particular groups of women were very, very militant and active in the process of the revolution. Women in that part of the world embody the ideas of the society more than the men. Through the women, we understand how that society works, by the way they dress and behave, how everything is hyper-controlled and that control is dictated by men. There's more mystery around the women. By bringing the notion of feminism to the layers of issues, it added another dynamic that put everything in a very strange perspective.

M: Is there an Islamic feminism?

SN: Not in the definition that you have here in the West. It's not an organized system like here, but there are women's movements everywhere in the Middle East, but they don't necessarily follow the structures of Western feminism.

M: Soliliquy, in which you appear as the female character overshadowed by the striking traditional Islamic buildings on one screen and dwarfed by the modern American architecture on the other, seems so timely now...

SN: Part of that film was actually shot in the World Trade Centre. All of the footage of the escalators and the crowds passing the woman by, the running through the crowds. It's about a timeless dilemma: when a person is born into one culture and lives within another, he or she must constantly negotiate from one culture to the next, especially if the two cultures are not only different, but very much in conflict. One of them is very lonely and isolating and individualistic, with masses of people going back and forth, very alienated. And the other side is the opposite: this feeling of suffocation, constantly dealing with community, absence of any individuality. On both sides, the notion of spirituality escapes you. I used architecture in a big way to represent each culture. It was just totally ironic that some of the elements of that film touch on the core of the issues that we're dealing with in the world right now. I actually hadn't looked at the piece in two years until I came to Montreal and I couldn't believe that I had chosen the World Trade Center, in a way, to represent America--and then, so did the terrorists.

Out of this world...

M: Getting back to the poetic, spiritual aspect of your work--with the soaring epic music, and your use of two screens reacting to each other--do you set out to emotionally affect people?

SN: If you're the type of person to allow yourself to be moved, you can be. That's a natural aspect of art--to be able to transport people somewhere. That's why people like to be told stories, so they can forget about their own lives and enter another world. That's the beauty of great art, that it could take you away, take your breath away, and then you come back to reality. It's such a satisfying experience to have. All of us are searching for that kind of special moment. I would give anything to have more moments where I could be removed from everyday, mundane life.

M: Do you think that in the West, people live these type of special moments through art, and that in Islamic culture, they are experienced more through religious ritual?

SN: Yes, in that part of the world, religion has provided a very solid base for people to have that kind of experience. And I think it's become a part of their daily lives, in different degrees. When you look at how much time we spend in the West on--although I hate this word--"spiritual" moments, it's not many. Not many people are very religious. I go about making art almost as though I'm almost trying to create a spiritual or religious experience. I like to go through all the socio-political elements and yet arrive at a place that is very primal and removed from everything, where it doesn't even matter where these people are from. I'm not making a general statement about art being a religious experience, that's just how I go about it.

Shirin Neshat's works are at the MAC until Jan.13. For info, call 847-6226