Response to She Who Tells A Story: Women Photographers From Iran and the Arab World by Kristen Gresh



In my first two semesters at the Lesley University College of Art and Design, I’ve been venturing outside of my comfort zone and exploring new avenues of knowledge, research, and video work. Reading through the catalogue She Who Tells A Story: Women Photographers From Iran and the Arab World has pushed me even further, now into the worlds of Arab and Iranian female photographers. I had visited the exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston in January 2014, but didn’t appreciate the layers of meaning in the photography of these women until I studied the catalogue.

She Who Tells a Story presents photographs and videos of 12 contemporary artists from Iran and the Arab world at a time when women in this region are struggling to redefine their rights in the face of radical Islamic movements (Gresh 9). The women are fighting on two fronts—one for their creative and intellectual freedom and the other against discrimination (Gresh 9). The viewers explore the social and political landscapes presented by the artists and confront their own preconceived opinions and prejudices (Gresh 21).

The exhibition and catalogue are divided into two categories. “Constructing Identities” showcases photographers who examine the complexities of female identity in Iran and the Middle East and shatter Orientalist stereotypes, like harem scenes and belly dancers (“She Who Tells A Story”). Iranian-born Shirin Neshat, for example, shows women’s empowerment in the face of opposition by combining the elements of the veil, gun, text and gaze in her Women of Allah (1993-7) series (Gresh 25). In her series A Girl and Her Room (2011), Lebanese-born Rania Matar has young women pose in their bedrooms in the Middle East and the United States, revealing both regional and universal characteristics of these women (Gresh 29).

The second category, “New Documentary,” is a new genre that combines artistic imagination with real life experiences, focusing on themes of war, protest, and revolt in addition to photography as a medium (“She Who Tells”). Iranian Shadi Ghadirian, in her series Nil Nil, for example, combines incongruous objects, like a soldier’s helmet next to a headscarf or a hand grenade in a fruit bowl, reflecting her experience of growing up during the Iran-Iraq war (1980-88) and the coexistence of daily life and war (Gresh 30, 86). Iranian Gohar Dashti in her series Today’s Life and War (2008) stages narratives of unknown stories of war, like a couple hanging laundry on a long strand of tangled barbed wire or a couple celebrating the Persian New Year, Nourouz, surrounded by scattered military helmets. Curator Rose Issa calls these narratives created through staging “real fictions—a subtle mixture of documentary and fiction that blurs the line between reality and creativity” (Gresh 30). 

I had varied impressions and reactions to the issues and photographs presented in She Who Tells A Story. The catalogue broadened my understanding of Orientalism and the identity issues for women in Arab countries and Iran, and I questioned my own role in perpetuating “otherness” through my work. I had heightened sensitivity when the work ventured into the realm of the political Palestinian-Israeli conflict and I questioned the curator’s motivation for lumping Israel into the category of “colonizer/occupier,” when the complexities of this particular conflict are so vastly different from those of the Americans today or the French and the British in the last century. Furthermore, the photographs informed my cinematic thinking, and the video and film work of Iranian-born Shirin Neshat, in particular, helped me understand the difference between video art and feature film. Lastly, I appreciated the in-depth thought processes and conceptualization that these artists engage in. Where do I locate myself as a documentary filmmaker in this process? Do I engage in straightforward information sharing with the audience or do I too venture into the artistic realm with layered meanings and visualization?

Through the catalogue, I broadened my understanding of Edward Said’s study of “Orientalism” in history, which refers to artistic or literary depictions of the Middle East and North Africa by Europeans or Americans that present the “Orient” as culturally inferior (Gresh 24). The photographers in She Who Tells A Story explore questions of identity as a response to Orientalism that spans British and French colonization of the Middle East in the 20th Century to the American incursions into Iraq and Afghanistan today. By juxtaposing photographs of Middle Eastern and American teenage girls in their rooms, Lebanese-born Rania Matar is highlighting similarities between these girls who like hanging out alone in their rooms, in their own personal space at a transitional time in their lives (Gresh 51). Rania Matar is leveling the playing field and countering the inferiority notion. Similarly, in her Harem series, Moroccan-born Lalla Essaydi makes reference to the 19th Century demeaning odalisque pose in Orientalist art (26), like in the work of August-Dominique Ingres’ La Grande Odalisque (1812). Yemenite Boushra Almutawakel in her body of work The Hijab challenges the Western notion of the veil as oppression (Gresh 43). In Sunanda Sanyal’s class “Advanced Topics in Photography” this semester, we spent time discussing alterity, the anthropological concept of cultural otherness, around colonization photography in Africa and the Middle East. Through all of this, as a documentary filmmaker, I have become sensitized to preconceived stereotypes of inferiority as I interact with my subjects and have questioned my motivations in my projects that focus on the Middle East.

Two of the photographers in the series that focus on issues in the Palestinian territories stirred contrasting reactions in me. Jordanian-born Tanya Habjouqa addresses the space limitations in Gaza in her series Women of Gaza (2009) (Gresh 31). She captures Palestinian women engaging in pleasures like a boat ride on the Mediterranean or a picnic on the beach. I appreciated the subtlety of the message in her depictions. In Negative Incursions (2002), Rula Halawani enlarges and prints negatives without reversing their values of the Israeli incursion into the West Bank in 2002 at the time of the second Intifada. I agree that the images depict horrible destruction, however, they present an imbalanced perspective. Neither the curator nor the artist mentions the stimulus for the incursion, which was the suicide bombing of a hotel in Netanya during a Passover seder where 30 people died. Furthermore, while the tanks in the photographs are ominous in comparison to the Palestinians on the ground, one does not see the innocence or fear of the soldiers in the tanks, some of whom may only be 18 years old.

The catalogue and further exploration into Shirin Neshat’s work helped inform my cinematic thinking. Several of the photographers cleverly thought through the mises-en-scene of their photographs to create layered meanings. Iranian Shadi Ghadirian’s work is a good example. In her Qajar (1998) series, each woman is posed against a painted backdrop from the Qajar era (1786-1925) with a modern object, like a boom box, Pepsi can, bicycle or make up, which were either forbidden or restricted in 1998 Iran (Gresh 85). The series suggests the tension between tradition and modernity, restriction and freedom, and public and private in Iranian society (“She Who Tells A Story”). In another series depicted in the collection Shadi Ghadirian: Iranian Photographer, the faces of women in chadors are obscured by domestic objects like a teapot, broom, grater and iron (Issa 30-39). Here she is depicting women as machines who perform the mundane chores of domestic life (Gresh 85). Yemenite Boushra Almutawakel in her series Mother, Daughter, Doll (2010) does not denounce the wearing of the hijab, but challenges the extremist notion of women covering their entire bodies in black (“She Who Tells A Story”). She presents nine prints that show the smiles of the mother and daughter fading as their colorful clothing (along with the doll’s) disappears from one picture to the next, making the statement that the individual is erased through dress (“She Who Tells A Story”). As a documentary filmmaker, I appreciated the creative storytelling techniques used by these artists and aspire to similar layered imagery and meaning in my work. Like many of these photographers, I too have to gain the trust of my subjects so they participate willingly and open themselves up.

I was inspired to look deeper into Shirin Neshat’s work, so I watched her film Women Without Men (2009) and read the catalogue Shirin Neshat Women Without Men. Women Without Men was both a video installation and a feature film. In the video installation, Shirin Neshat creates five nonlinear narratives, giving a glimpse into the nature of each of the five characters whereas in the film she develops their characters more fully and tells their more complete stories (Heartney, Neshat, and Azari 14). Eleanor Heartney, Shirin Neshat, and Shoja Azari explain the difference between video art and cinema in the catalogue. Video art is conceptually realized, while cinema primarily involves the act of storytelling with a narrative thrust (9). In video art, the viewer participates in editing the film by moving in and out of the installation space, whereas in cinema the viewer is more passive and locked in a space-time continuum (Heartney, Neshat, and Azari 11). In film, the thread of the story is critical, and beautiful imagery must sometimes be discarded if it’s too distracting (Heartney, Neshat, and Azari 14). “In the end,” Shirin Neshat says, “I learned that the fundamental difference between cinema and art is the question of character development” (Heartney, Neshat, and Azari 14).

She Who Tells a Story stimulated my thinking about my documentary film work. Together with my mentor Dana Levy, I am conceptualizing a video art piece to be included in my Iran documentary. Important dates and relevant objects will be introduced on a pulley clothesline that will advance as the story progresses. The clothesline as a symbol of domesticity, of a past time, and of transcendent boundaries will help tell this story. Additionally, I realized that Shirin Neshat’s dual format—video art and narrative film—could be applied to my Iran documentary. At some point, I may consider separating out the characters in a video installation, where viewers must make their own connections and draw their own conclusions rather than have the story unfold before them in a feature documentary format.

As I finish up my second semester at LUCAD, I see a merger between my studio and academic work. Where in the beginning, they were two separate entities, now the windows to both are opening wider and there is a cross breeze flowing. Garnered from She Who Tells A Story, multi-layered conceptualization, openness with my subjects, sensitivity about preconceived notions, attention to mise-en-scene are a few of the currents now circulating in my thought processes and work.



Works Cited


Gresh, Kristen. She Who Tells A Story: Women Photographers from Iran and the Arab World. Boston: Museum of Fine Arts, 2013. Print.

Heartney, Eleanor, Shirin Neshat, and, Shoja Azari. Shirin Neshat: Women Without Men. New York: Charta Books Ltd, 2011. Print.

Issa, Rose, ed. Shadi Ghadirian: Iranian Photographer. Berkeley: SAQI, 2008. Print.

 “She Who Tells A Story: Women Photographers from Iran and the Arab World.” Web. 30 April 2014. http://www.mfa.org/news/she-who-tells-a-story

Women Without Men. Dir. Shirin Neshat. Perf. Shabnam Tolouei, Orsi Toth, Pegah Ferydoni, Arita Shahrzad. 2009. Amazon Instant Video.


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