As a child, Nargess Hashemi played with her mother, sister and aunts in the confines of the women's quarter of the family home in Tehran. Today, while gender politics remain at the forefront of many contemporary Persian artists' agendas, Hashemi, 29, takes a rather more tolerant and thoughtful approach. "Well, yes, we were segregated, but I did enjoy it. As an artist, I created my own life within all that segregation and limitation - in a way, unlimiting my limitations, if you know what I mean."
That hidden world in which the small girl sought freedom through her imagination is evoked this month in her first solo show, the provocatively titled Stories From the Boudoir. In a series of paintings on display at the B21 gallery in Dubai, Hashemi celebrates the sequestered lives of traditional Iranian women that veer from moods of gentle nostalgia to outright emotional pain and anguish. For Hashemi, who has achieved an astonishing level of emotional fluency and mastery of technique since graduating in fine art from the Azad University in Tehran five years ago, it would appear that her time in the spotlight has finally arrived.
"I think basically, it is really the style and identity of the work itself," says B21's Isabelle van den Eynde, one of Dubai's leading authorities on contemporary Iranian art, and curator of Hashemi's show. "Hers are very classic subjects, and her techniques, the dedication, precision and effort she puts into her work... I was so impressed by her craft. Nargess's work is beautiful; there are so many layers and elements, all vibrating together. It is unique."
In the acrylic paintings that make up Stories From the Boudoir, Hashemi recalls her Tehran childhood of the mid-1980s with nostalgia. Through intricate impressionist brushstrokes that arrange motifs into complex layers, she presents the atmosphere of her childhood in a strict, Zoroastrian family as being a happy one: safe, protected and, as we shall shortly discover, a period that she would choose to revisit later in life when in need of spiritual comfort and mental calm. Speaking from Tehran through an interpreter, she explains how her childhood environment fundamentally affected her.
"I remember the female members of the family would always gather together, all gossiping and chit-chatting in a room, while the men would be in another room. It was quite a segregated lifestyle, you could say. My childhood was mainly with that sort of lifestyle. All the limitations that we had, these paintings really express that separate life that the women have from the male members of the family.
"This segregation which was imposed on us, was mainly imposed by the men, but it was meant to support and defend us. I felt security. It was pleasant and a positive side to life. There were lots of people who are involved in this lifestyle, who don't see it as being negative at all. The men weren't aggressive in making it this way, it was just all meaning to shield the female members of the family from the negative things happening throughout the community, outside the house."
Reflecting the old-fashioned, thinking that shaped her family's beliefs, Hashemi's works belie a deep understanding of traditional Persian techniques. But interestingly, she eschews broad brushstrokes for delicately fashioned, intricate motifs that are clustered into geometric patterns, meticulously building up images. Patterns are everywhere, in the foreground, background, in the women's clothes, the wallpapers, rugs, carpets and chadors.
"You look at any Iranian artist and you won't find a single one who doesn't like patterns," chuckles van den Eynde. "You see it, in the textiles, the architecture, the sculptures, everything. Patterns and geometric styles." Here, we see it in Hashemi's richly detailed canvasses, in the generously proportioned characters and settings. The depth and movement that result make for an absorbing experience, as subject and background achieve a pleasing completeness, an entire visual harmony. The women in the paintings become one with their surroundings through this careful blend of textures, colour and composition.
"By using these different textures, I was trying to weave people into the background," Hashemi says. "In the dress a woman is wearing, or the pattern of the carpet she is sitting on, I try to weave people into whatever the background is, infusing people into their surroundings. I don't want to separate people from the environment they are in. Because these are the environments that we've been brought up in, and so here, it shows how it ties them into that, how it shapes and defines them and is ultimately very much a part of them."
For an emotionally driven artist, Hashemi's Stories From the Boudoir mark a return to strong, figurative work, following a brief dalliance with purely abstract paintings. Her last serious collection was almost entirely an experiment in pure motion and colour. Despite acclaim and an inclusion in a prestigious group show in Washington, DC, last year, Hashemi felt there wasn't yet sufficient satisfaction to be had in pure abstraction. Today, she considers her abstract phase to have been a very vital stage in her development as a painter. Looking at her controlled movement and emotion in these works, the technical lessons learnt have evidently stood her in good stead.
Examine the work on display here, and a massive emotional range soon becomes apparent. While some pieces reflect gentle nostalgia, placid depictions of everyday life, there are others which reverberate with tension, misery, isolation and profound sadness. This series of paintings date from earlier this year and represent a massive force of effort and determination by the artist. At the beginning of this year, her younger brother Omid was killed in a road accident. Hashemi and her family were devastated by their loss. The grief and numbness that followed Omid's death can be seen in some of these paintings.
Deldaari Be Zari (Consoling Zari), for instance, depicts the artist's mother, in a paroxysm of misery, being supported and comforted by family members. This "black period", according to Bita Fayyazi, a renowned artist and Hashemi's friend, needed an outlet. Two months after Omid's death, with Fayyazi's gentle encouragement, Hashemi began working on the pieces that eventually became the backbone of the new collection.
"It was very difficult for her to cope with," says Fayyazi. "She went through a turbulent time, and it was her art that really saved her. If she had carried on grieving, the way she had been, she would have been wasted. Her art actually saved her from all that, and everyone else supporting her, encouraging her to continue with her work - all they were going through at the time." Hashemi's deep pain is evident throughout the series, especially in the earlier canvasses. Daghaygh-E-Masti (Moments of Drunkenness), the first painting she completed following Omid's death, is one such case, a self-portrait depicting herself upside down.
"I was just going through a family photo album, when I came across a picture of myself taken when I had very long hair. In that photo, I was really happy and it reminded me of times when the whole family were happy and my brother was alive. I remembered how happy I used to be. So I painted myself, in that moment of happiness - upside down. The happiness is no longer." Another self-portrait is Andooh-e-Tanhaaie (Loneliness), a black-shrouded figure prostrate, against a scratchy background, swollen by clouds of calligraphy-like characters. "Life is going on, while I am on my hands and knees," Hashemi explains. "That is the use of colour there, I am trying to get myself back through these pictures, bringing in by force, bright colours, to get out of this feeling of suffering."
With this collection that delves into the deeper realms of the heart and soul, Hashemi has succeeded in channelling profound emotion with quite awesome control and technique. The repetitive textures of her backgrounds and the blank faces of her subjects are executed with such clarity and skill, one wonders how on earth Hashemi managed to knock out this collection within a space of just a few months. ("She works all day, into the night," says Fayyazi). Now, revitalised and engaged on a series of paintings based around mythological creatures (apparently, cows) from Zoroastrian legends, Hashemi remains at her post in Tehran, industriously producing yet more intricately fashioned canvases. While there'll need to be some more shows before she ascends to the major league, given the buzz surrounding her at present, there is every chance she'll remain busy for a considerable while longer.
Stories From the Boudoir, Nargess Hashimi, B21 Gallery (04 340 3965) www.b21gallery.com. Until Oct 9. amohammad@thenational.ae