Shirin Neshat’s videos, films, and photographs deal with the restrictive Islamic culture of her native Iran, particularly as it impacts the lives of women. Conducted in 2001, this interview addresses the artist’s concerns at large as well as their specific manifestation in the pieces Passage, Pulse, and Possessed, which had, at the time, been recently displayed in a watershed solo show at Barbara Gladstone Gallery. The interview was conducted just days before 9/11, which disaster saw a collapse between the worlds from which Neshat escaped and that which she entered.


David Shapiro: Let's begin by considering how the film medium is suited to your subjects.

Shirin Neshat: Initially coming from a photography background, film and video became attractive as they were extensions of photography for me, in the way that they become "moving photographs." I was really attracted to being able to create work that tells its concept in more than a single image rather than a collection of images. Later, I became interested in film more for its narrative and cinematic perspective – I became able to finally move from purely visual to narrative form.

DS: So, you feel there's a limit to what you can do with photography?

SN: I've found more potential in film and video than in photography. I think there's essentially a limit to how far you can go with photography, but that is not so with film. Also, most importantly, the relationship between the viewers to film (particularly narrative film) is quite different from the viewers' relationship with photography. Photography becomes an object at the end, but film must be experienced—it is temporary. I'm very interested in that aspect. The way I look at these media and what photography and film/video have in common is their representation of "reality." I'm interested in reality, and of course, this is absent in the media of painting and sculpture. One of my problems with photography, at least in relation to the way I approach it, is that photographs become so rigid, monumental, and final. In filmmaking, I find that one can keep all kinds of ambiguities in relation to the nature of the subject, and at the end, the piece can be kept open for all types of interpretations.

DS: Your works are, in effect, short movies, yet they're shown in a gallery context rather than in a movie theater. Is the space of the gallery advantageous to that of the theater?

SN: I've thought a lot about this issue. At the beginning, as you know, my films involved more than one screen. Therefore, they were designed as installations. But then, I designed my latest three films Passage, Possessed, and Pulse as single projections. Therefore, I had to really ask myself this question. Finally, I have come to the conclusion that the experience of seeing the films in a gallery is very different from that of seeing them in a movie theater. The experience in the gallery context is more physical and more psychologically acute, while in the theater context, it is more "passive."

DS: And, by extension, there's a real difference between a video artist and a filmmaker?

SN: There are different types of video artists—there are those who treat the medium purely with visual interest and experiment with it as if they are holding a paintbrush. Then, there are artists like myself, who make videos that are very cinematic and narrative. For us, video art is more like film direction, as opposed to the experience of creating a painting or a sculpture. I work with a large film crew and often a large cast. My role, besides development of the concept, is quite demanding, similar to the role of any filmmaker. I think that video artists have a more solitary experience with the video camera.

DS: And narrative cinema might have more political potential than the work of the solo video artist. As an artist whose work might indeed be seen to have strong political implications, do you think artists can actually inspire tangible political or social change?

SN: Not many. I know that many artists have made important work with clear and important social messages such as Hans Haacke, Leon Golub, or even William Kentridge. But, I'm not sure if any of their works have resulted in direct social or political change.

DS: Have their works had a great deal of personal impact on you?

SN: There are many artworks that have interested me, but not so profoundly as films have moved me. The most recent film to have a big impact on me was In the Mood for Love by Wong Kar-Wai. It was an incredible piece of visual and cinematic power. The way he kept all elements of beauty, emotion, and spirituality in such a simple storyline was remarkable.

DS: Is beauty still crucial if a social message is at stake? That is, do you think art should be beautiful if its beauty blocks the forcefulness of its narrative? Or is it the very beauty of an artwork that makes its message so powerful?

SN: Beauty has always been a major aspect of my work, partially because it is inherent in the nature of the Islamic tradition—it is an essential aspect of Islamic spirituality, particularly in the mysticism associated with Islam such as the Sufi tradition, in which beauty is a fundamental vehicle of meditation with God. We are told, "God Loves Beauty," and therefore, so much focus is given to creating beauty. Beauty is a mediator between human and divine. I have always stressed this aspect of my culture to neutralize some other rather negative associations with the Islamic cultures, such as violence. I still use that tactic continuously in my work. So, to extract "beauty" from my work would diminish its meaning and relevance to the subject.

DS: If beauty is a mediator between the human and the divine, do you identify more with a priest or a philosopher?

SN: Certainly not with a priest or a philosopher, but a poet.

DS: And do you see the role of the artist changing this century? Will art change?

SN: Art will become more and more global and interdisciplinary. I think for too long art has been too isolated and exclusive. Now, with the breaking down of boundaries between media, artists are having the advantage of experimenting and approaching the popular culture, and consequently, a larger public. I see a future that is far more integral between art and social and cultural realities of the world.

DS: Do you have specific plans yourself? Would you like to make feature-length films?

SN: I've been thinking a lot about this question and hope that after I finish the short film that I'm in the midst of making, I could take my time to develop an idea that suits a feature-length film.

DS: More people should see your work.

SN: I have been very lucky with the level of audience I have had in the arts. If anything, I would like my work to be seen more in the film scene and by the general public.

DS: Do you ever want to paint?

SN: No!

DS: Can you imagine a time when you wouldn't need to make art?

SN: I wouldn't be surprised, as it has happened to me before. There was a period of ten years after I graduated from graduate school when I put the idea of art-making behind me altogether.

DS: So, you don't think people are chosen to be artists?

SN: No, I don't feel chosen. I don't see my work as a product of special talent, but rather as a product of a person with specific experiences and a certain point of view. Had I not gone through the various personal chapters in my life, I would have never been able to make the work that I have made. My art is my personal response to the worlds that I have been exposed to.

DS: Let's look a bit at specific works of yours, Passage, which was the work that intrigued me most in your recent exhibit. Fire plays an integral role here. Can you describe what it means in this context?

SN: I really prefer not to give it an exclusive answer, as I want people to draw their own meanings. But, as you know, fire is an important symbol in many cultures, particularly in the Zoroastrian tradition originating from Iran. In Passage, I adopted many primal elements including water, earth, and finally fire to stress the forces of nature against the ritual of death. The main conversation in this film was between those men and women and the landscape. Fire, with its destructive and constructive capabilities, encompasses the idea of that perpetual cycle, mainly of birth and death.

DS: And the rock tower?

SN: I think you're speaking about the circle that the young girl made. For me, there was an interesting parallel between this circle made with pebbles of stone and the formation of the circle of women.

DS: And your choice of using color? Usually you use black and white.

SN: In Passage, the main theme revolved around a relationship between men and women (dressed in black) and the landscape (forces of nature). I needed to separate these two so that at all times the audience became aware of the juxtaposition of the two. If this film was shot in black-and-white, it would have had a totally different effect, where often the people got lost in the landscape and there would have been no separation. Here, the people seemed more like silhouettes against the changing and colorful landscape. For example, in the shot of the fire burning, the dynamic would have been substantially diminished without color.