Through his poetically constructed images, Hoda Afshar illuminates a world overshadowed by history and cruelty. Yet we never see despair: we see insurrection, camaraderie, reinvention and exploration of how photography can activate latest ways of pondering.
Afshar was born in Iran and immigrated to Australia in 2007. She began her apprenticeship as a documentary photographer in Tehran, initially fascinated by acting.
Staging and inventive intervention will turn into significant features of her work.
Even in her early, nominally “documentary” series, one can sense an acceptance of the ambiguity of the still image and an interest in composing a more vivid (and maybe authentic) reality than dispassionate reportage could achieve.
Afshar is currently one of Australia’s most vital photographic media artists, so this comes as a surprise Hoda Afshar: A curve is a dashed line at the Art Gallery of New South Wales is her first major survey exhibition.
What unites her materially diverse works is a priority for visibility: who’s denied it, what the media makes visible and the way photography can reveal, overlook and manipulate the truth.
Much of her work addresses critical humanitarian issues of our time: war, statelessness, diaspora, oppression, corruption. It challenges stereotypes. We don’t see passive victims or closed narratives: we learn latest perspectives that could make us reassess the world by which we live.
Familiarity and distance
The exhibition consists of six works, the first of which began with the death of his father in Iran.
In Exodus I Love You More (2014–) is a portrait of her home country shaped by experiences of intimacy and distance. The artist is at home and searching at the same time, like an outsider. The images sometimes suggest intimate closeness, other times a separation just like that achieved whenever you raise a camera to your eye.
Afshar reflects on his experiences with migration and, he tells me, seeks to “dismantle the idea that there is one way of viewing Iran.”
The final painting on this series depicts the erasure of a lady’s face from a painted Persian miniature.
In the next room, the latest series “In Turn” (2023) is a set of large, framed photographs of Iranian women living in Australia. Many photos show them delicately braiding one another’s hair. These women can’t be identified except as artists and activists Mahla Karimianwho appears in the air with a pair of flying pigeons.
This work was stimulated by women-led protest movement brought on by death Name Mahsa BelieveIranian Kurdish woman arrested in September 2022 for failing to comply with Iran’s stringent requirements women’s dress codes. The rebellion filled the streets with women chanting “Women, life, freedom!” and “Say her name!” in fearless defiance of the authorities who responded murderous revenge.
Afshar watched her homeland from afar. She says she desired to “share the voices ignored by the media.” She was inspired by social media photos of women braiding their hair in public: a rebellious act that reflects the practice Kurdish female fighters preparations for battle.
But the images should not brutal. They are quietly calm, showing solidarity in sadness, hope and determination. By sending this “visual letter” to her Iranian sisters, Afshar risked long-term exile from her country of birth.
Strong opposition
Much of Afshar’s work fearlessly tells stories which have been hidden or misrepresented.
Remain (2018) was created in collaboration with asylum seekers staying in the asylum center Manus Island.
This work consists of a series of raw, immersive portraits and a large-format two-channel video installation.
We see men trapped in a spot that might otherwise resemble paradise. We hear their voices recounting their experiences of trauma and displacement. But along with Afshar, they co-create performative, narrative works that avoid degrading stereotypes of victimhood.
The most recognizable image on this series is a portrait of a Kurdish Iranian author and filmmaker Behrouz Boochani, who selected to be photographed next to the fire. The smoke and flames reflect the passionate power of his gaze. This strength later allowed him to turn into a free man six years in prison.
In Behold (2016) we once more see acts of determined resistance by people appearing in front of the camera. A gaggle of gay men invited Afshar to watch recreated gestures of protection and intimacy forbidden across most of the Middle East.
Unable to freely express their love in society, they reveal and affirm it for Afshar and her lens.
Agonistes (2020) pays tribute to a bunch of Australian whistleblowers who act as a Greek chorus of heroic truth tellers.
Created through a posh process of photographic capture and 3D printing that conjures up realistic detail, the portraits appear like busts carved in marble. But this depiction leaves your eyes blank, and the captions describing the corruption revealed by each character don’t reveal their names.
Afshar continues his practice of revealing the truth while protecting those that have the courage to inform it.
Being alive is breaking
Speak the wind (2015–22) takes us to Iran, to the Strait of Hormuz, where “evil winds” are said to blow. African slaves were imported here for hundreds of years, the trade only stopping in the Nineteen Twenties.
Afshar’s photography and video images explore a spot haunted by history. We see the outward manifestations of the invisible wind (dramatically sculpted rock formations, ripples in the water, flowing fabric). Covered figures bow on the dry ground, searching for a cure from possession by evil spirits.
Afshar examines the extent to which we’re prisoners of history (in Australia now we have to grapple with the legacy of colonization). In creating this lyrical work, Afshar again collaborated with local people, some of them made drawings “wind spirits”- they said they met.
The title of the exhibition was inspired by lines from a poem Kaveh Akbar: :
the curve is a straight line broken in any respect points a lot
being alive is breaking.
Hoda Afshar’s works explore themes of conflict, injustice, mobility and the often fragile state of life. It reminds us that dominant forces may be challenged by revealing the truth and imagining something latest.
