Bāygān: House of Photographs and Words

Dadbeh Bassir

Father

2009

Text

Mehran Mohajer

Mirrors and Windows ^*

Photography is tightly intertwined with cars, streets, roads, and travel. But here, there is neither a street nor a road, nor a journey. Even if there is one, it cannot be seen. The photographer is seated inside a car — a car we do not know whether it is moving or quietly still. Perhaps the photographer is trapped inside this vehicle. He sits in the back seat, while the front seats are empty. So, there is no hope of going anywhere. It seems the photographer has no choice but to take a picture within this prison. His escape is photography. Perhaps the photographer deliberately wanted to flee the monotony and colorlessness of everyday life. So, he has sought refuge in this quiet, closed corner. But here, too, there is no color.

Above all, what we see in the photograph are frames within frames — mirrors and windows. Yet, neither do the windows reveal anything of the outside world, nor do the mirrors disclose anything about the photographer. The windows are covered with fabric and are opaque. The mirrors reflect the same opacity.

It is this very opacity that keeps the photographer inside the car — and us inside the photo.

^*The title of the photo is Father. I have set aside the name Father to distance the reading of the photograph from the author’s intention. Here, Mirrors and Windows refers to the famous book and exhibition Mirrors and Windows (1978) by John Szarkowski. In that book, looking at two decades of American photography, Szarkowski considers photography either as a window onto the world or a mirror reflecting the spirit and psyche of the photographer.