Working with the Boundaries of Censure: The First Slideshow Photography Exhibition in Iran

The first gallery exhibition of slideshows by Iranian photographers to be held in Iran was a very recent initiative of Fanoos Photo, a website dedicated to the online showcasing of work by Iranian artists. The exhibition, which closed several days ago, commenced and continued, as with any other public event in Iran, with the blessings of the central government and its notorious Ministry of Culture. Those familiar with the Iranian art scene would know the complexities and difficulties an organization must face to hold a presentation of any work within the country. The red ribbon across movie posters reading “Banned in Iran” has become a marketing ploy for distribution companies in Europe and America. Internationally recognized filmmakers, such as Mohsen Makhmalbaf, whose screenplays have been meticulously inspected by the Ministry of Culture and have received its approval, discover upon the completion of their projects that their films cannot be displayed in local theaters. It is no wonder then that the success of the slideshow exhibition sponsored by Fanoos website would immediately become the subject of political discussion.

It definitely bears mentioning that Iran is the country with the largest number of weblogs per capita in the world. The phenomenon is even more impressive when we consider that a large portion of the country is yet to have access to broadband internet, and in provincial cities personal computer is yet to become a common household item. As expected, the internet is yet another battleground between the hardliner government and its overwhelmingly young and dissatisfied constituency. ISPs operate under strict governmental supervision, and the web is subject to some of the fiercest filtering programs. Every week hundreds of new websites are added to the blacklist that attempts to block all subversive or sacrilegious content from the nation’s eyes. Everyday new ways of circumventing the barricades are offered. That Fanoos, dealing in the inevitably controversial realm of photography, has managed to thrive as an open organization is an oddity worth considering.

Though it is a simple site, offering only a few photos from each artist, its juxtaposition of well-recognized and obscure names in Iran’s photography have made Fanoos a famous place among Iranian intellectuals. Once one’s initial delight at finding such a neat little treasure in the web of webs subsides, one is confronted with the absence of many factors that would seem essential to such a collection. There is no mention of some obvious choices for any list of Iranian photographers. Abbas, one of the most accomplished Iranian photographers and a prominent member of Magnum Photo, who fell out of favor with the Islamic government from the early years of the revolution, is one such name. Visiting Fanoos, it is possible for one to assume that the new generation of Iranian photographers are increasingly leaning away from politics toward lighter subjects. The illusion, however, is the result of the particular selection of works which has pragmatically excluded most political pieces. There is no biographical information offered on any of the artists, which may be due to the unorthodox backgrounds of quite a few of them, who, like Shirin Neshat (her work is well-represented in the image to the right), walk the thin line between disapproval and total ban by the government.

The most immediately felt absence, however, is that of works portraying modern women in intimate settings, where they would normally not appear in traditional Islamic clothing. The selection, in other words, has excluded all photography that cannot be openly displayed in Iran. Keeping in mind the vast culture of underground and expatriate Iranian art and the prominence of many dissident artists, the handicap can be considered a serious one. As political parties ban unfair elections, so would many Iranian artists and intellectuals rather forgo participation in an artistic environment that excludes some of its best based on a political agenda.

The Fanoos sponsored slide-show exhibition in Tehran represents a sort of triumph for a more pragmatic, participatory approach. It is no small feat to reach both the unlimited world of the web and the tightly controlled canvas of artistic exhibition in Iran. After years of extremely successful activity outside of Iran, Mitra Tabrizian had a chance to display her photographs in her own country. Her theme of desperation and depression among middle-aged professionals in Europe who are losing their jobs to the younger generation (as in the image to the left) must have struck a subtle chord with the Iranian viewers. Reza Paydari in his collection explored the destruction of green space in Tehran, one of the world's most polluted metropolis. Oshin Zakarian and Amir Yegane presented their visually astounding take on Iranian landscapes and ancient architecture. And having passed through the cracks, the restrained, political photography of Mohammad Kheyr-khah, such as the photograph of Iranian women in uniform featured at the top of the post, attracted the most attention from the visitors. Uncaptioned, Kheyr-khah’s photographs depict the seemingly commonplace process of military parades and daily marching of the soldiers.

In my latest visit to Iran, I was surprised by a new tendency in young filmmakers, some of whom are close friends and acquaintances, to seriously consider positions in the state-run television. A few years ago even the thought of such an occupation would have been considered heresy among intellectuals. It is certain that the country is undergoing quiet, yet drastic changes. In a country that in the last decade has lost an entire generation of its most influential artists, the younger generation may choose to test its creativity within the oppressive boundaries inside the country, rather than to maintain a rebellious silence.