Iranian Volume, Surface, Line and Point

The photograph seems like a test, an experiment in exploring visual qualities within the tradition of modernist photography. We see the play of light in the shadows. Bright lines stretch across a dark surface. These same bright lines are pressed closely together, forming a surface. In the midst of this bright surface, thick dark lines crawl. This crawling leads us into an ambiguous depth, and in this way, the surface of the photograph gains volume. Points of light linger brightly, suspended among the lines. The picture is closed with no horizon, yet within the dense compression of lines, surfaces, and points, a horizon can be found, explored, or even created. Light, shadow, line, and surface in this confined space suspend the viewer among the elements of the photograph’s language.

All of this exists, but there is something more in the picture. We see poplar trees, carrying the color of belonging to this land. It’s as if we hear the quiet whisper of the poplar leaves — leaves that are not yet here, but whose coming we await. We hear their sight and smell their sound. We wait, watching for the scent of leaves that have not yet arrived.

Through seeing this photograph, we see, hear, and smell our Iran. And through it, we stay in our Iran.