Telegraphi : The forbidden work of Shirin Neshat: The rebellious silence (by Katy Essel for the Guardian)
Dressed in a chador and holding the barrel of a gun in front of her face, a woman looks at us. It is defiant, determined, militant, courageous. The title of the work, "rebellious silence", evokes her quiet sense of power. Her steadfast gaze suggests conviction and trust. On its face, in handwritten Farsi, is a poem that focuses on feminism about the law enacted during the 1979 Iranian revolution that still today requires all Iranian women to wear veils in public. . "The written text is the voice of the photograph", said artist Shirin Neshat. "This breaks the silence of the quiet woman."
After living in exile – for 11 years away from Iran, separated from her family – in 1990 Neshat returned to her country of birth. She left as a teenager, when the foundations of the Islamic revolution were being laid, and continued her studies in the USA. Upon her return, her country was transformed.
Interested in becoming involved in the stories of the women who lived and shaped the revolution, as well as connecting culturally and emotionally with her heritage, Neshat turned to the camera. Conducting interviews, reading and talking with friends, she compiled her findings into a visual vocabulary that resulted in two powerful photographic series: "Removing the cover" (1993-4) and "Women of Allah" (1993-7).
Neshat focused on a group of religious women who, on the eve of the revolution, became "voluntarily militant". Her images opened the dialogue about the role of women and their bodies, in the rejection of Western imperialism and the idea of martyrdom. The results are filled with conflicting symbols: violence and femininity, power and submission, religion and politics, love and death. "Women of Allah", said Neshat, "they wonder how such women stood at that crossroads of love, faith, devotion - and at the same time cruelty, violence and ultimately death".
Passed her elements: “The weapon suggested the violence that came with the Islamic regime; the veil, also as a symbol of repression for those who are against the compulsory hijab; and, submission to extremely religious women”.
Using the female body - which according to Neshat is "used as a battlefield for men's religious and ideological rhetoric" - the work brings to light the long and ongoing discussions about the control of women and the way they are dressed by those in power. During the reign of Reza Shah 1925-41, women were forced to remove the veil. After the 1979 revolution, they were subjected to mandatory hijab laws. Today they are protesting bravely.
In recent weeks, after the death of Mahsa Amin, hundreds of protests have erupted in the streets of Iran. She was a healthy 22-year-old woman who, while visiting Tehran with her family, was stopped by the morality police for wearing the hijab "improperly". Amini was taken to a detention center and died three days later under suspicious circumstances while in police custody.
Standing bravely in solidarity with Amin, women across Iran – and the world – have cut their hair, removed headscarves, burned hijabs and staged demonstrations. As the Iranian government has shut down internet access, videos circulating on social media have documented one of the most significant revolutions for women in modern times. These videos also reveal the violence, panic and abject fear inflicted on the protesters.
Heroism is amazing. One protester, speaking anonymously to CNN, stated: "We are not afraid. We are outraged. People think we're the previous generation – that if they do, we'll just stop. We will not stop. For us it is a one-way street. They will take even more people into custody, torture them, rape them. This is not the end.”
While Neshat's series is rooted in the women associated with the 1979 revolution, their gaze evokes the determination of today's female protesters. The fact that the work has been banned by Iran highlights the country's conservatism. "Immediately after I made the series 'Women of Allah'", said Neshat, "it became very controversial. The government saw it as critical and attacked it as anti-revolutionary. They advised me not to return."
Farsi written by hand, on the face of the woman in "The rebellious silence", is Tahereh Saffarzadeh's poem, "Loyalty with vigilance". Combined with her powerful photos, the lyrics speak to the bravery of women in the 1979 revolution as much as to those protesting today: "O martyr / hold my hands / With your hands / Cut off by earthly tools / Hold my hands, / I am your poet. / With damaged body. / I have come to be with you / and, on the promised day, / we will go again". /Telegraph
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