Pars Arts

Today Only: See Marzieh Vafamehr’s Sundance Short Online

The Sundance film festival’s website is in the midst of 10 Shorts/10 Days, and today they’re streaming Marzieh Vafamehr’s 21-minute movie about the Iran-Iraq war, “Wind, Ten Years Old.” The film takes place mostly in a  girls’ school, and it’s pretty jarring to hear little girls singing war propaganda songs. But the film will be gone tomorrow, so see it for free while you can, at sundance.org/festival/shorts.

Vafamehr’s bio from the Sundance site:

Marzieh Vafamehr is a Acting graduate from the Fine Arts Faculty in Tehran University. She was the founder of theatre group in Andishe cultural centre and supervisor of cinema theatre group of Andishe Javan group in 1997. She participated in precious and semi-precious stone exhibition in 2002 and 2003, while in the Arasbaran cultural center and various private galleries In 2001 and 2002, Marzieh taught, drama and theater acting in Mokaab and Chahar-Sou-e-honar workshops.She worked as director assistant in COMMON PAIN (Yasamin Malek Nasr), BEHIND THE CURTAIN OF TAKHTE TAVOOS serial (Mohamma Rahmanian), a TV hygienic training video (Varouj Karim Masihi) ordered by public Health Organization, GREEK SHIP, UNROLLED PAPER, and THE LAST REHEARSAL (Naser Taghvaiee).She has acted in such projects as GLADIATORS, written by Alireza Hanifi (Winner of woman acting prize in The Student Theater Festival), GALILEO LALILEI written by Bertolt Brecht, THE ROSE TATTOO written by Tennessee Williams, UNCLE WIGGILY IN CONNETICUT written by J.D. Salinger, HELLO AND GOODBYE written by Athol Fugard, PLAY HOUSE written by Hossein Kiani (Winner of woman acting prize in The Student Theater Festival), UNSWEETENED a feature directed by Naser Taghvaiee whose shooting was stopped, BAREFOOT IN PARADISE, a feature directed by Bahram Tavakolli, CHAPTER 7, a short film directed by Marjan Ashrafizadeh (Winner of best acting prize of Cinema Academy in Art Students Film Festival), and AFTER LUNCH WE WILL SIT & TALK, a short film directed by Ramin Parvin. She currently lives in Tehran, Iran.

Grow, Watermelon, Grow: Interview with Iranian Author and Illustrator, Charlotte Noruzi

In her first children’s book, Grow, Watermelon, Grow, New York-based Iranian designer/illustrator Charlotte Noruzi uses both Western and Iranian themes to tell a story from her childhood. The resulting work is bright, cheerful drawings about a little girl who insists on growing her own watermelon.

Because much of the book relies on an elegant mix of styles and some pretty innovative tools (see below for Noruzi’s description of using actual watermelon slices to make prints), it’s also arguably one of the most sophisticated children’s books on the market, especially among those with an Iranian theme. Which is not all that surprising when you consider that Noruzi is a design/illustration professor at Pratt Institute and has a host of other accolades to her name.

I first saw this book and met Charlotte at Mehregan last year, where my friend and I bought her book even though she wasn’t at her booth at the time – we left our money with the sweet Iranian ladies in the adjacent booth and came back to chat her up later. After keeping it to myself for so long, fi-i-i-i-nally (as she writes in her book), here’s a Q&A with Charlotte Noruzi. You can buy the book here.

Pars Arts: Grow, Watermelon Grow is about a little girl’s (your) desire to grow her own watermelon. Why did you choose this particular story for your book?
Charlotte Noruzi: I never thought much about this event in my young life until I mentioned it to my friend, Ronnie Lawlor, three years ago. She was so taken by it and it was after her suggestion that I seriously took into consideration bringing this story to life. Little did I know that I would be starting on a journey of reconnection with my childhood, sometimes painful and sad and sometimes funny and joyful. In a way this book is about sharing myself with the world, bringing to light something kept hidden. On the cover, the girl’s face is half-hidden by the watermelon slice. The desire to plant the seeds, to have them sprout up out of the earth, is the desire to be seen, heard, to feel validated, and also, to see the “fruits” of perseverance, belief and determination. It was very important to prove to my parents that I could grow something too. I realize now the great significance of this simple desire to grow something of one’s own. It’s my hope that these messages come through in the story.

PA: The illustrations in this book really make it quite sophisticated… did the illustrations come first, or the words?
CN: Thank you. I started making one or two line drawings of myself as a child. I was taken aback by how natural this process was, of drawing myself and my family as we once were. The resemblance was shocking. The drawings flowed out as if it had been waiting for a very long time. After that I started writing. Somehow
words create an anchor from which the illustrations can flow. They create the imagery. I remember working this way even as a kid, always illustrating words.

PA: Do Iranian themes or motifs, either classical or contemporary, influence your other work? How about in the classroom, where you work with students as a professor at Pratt?
CN: Iranian themes and motifs influence my work quite often. I love hand-lettering and calligraphy and this comes right out of my Persian roots. The book is very much based on the patterns, colors and designs in Persian art and I was also inspired by Persian children’s books I grew up reading. I often introduce Persian and Middle-Eastern design and calligraphy in the classroom. There is a freedom of expression and strength of language that students seem to respond very effectively to and their work, in turn, becomes freer and more expressive, more unusual. The mix of Western and Middle-Eastern mark-making and graphics always creates rich and unusual results, in my opinion. I guess you can say that about people as well, who are a combination of those “graphics.”

PA: What’s been the response to your book from Iranians? What about non-Iranians? Do they recognize the Iranian elements in the story?
CN: The response has been overwhelmingly positive. I think people, both Iranian and non-Iranian, are truly touched by this story. I never imagined such a heartfelt response. There have been numerous moments of recognition/relating to the story when a person will exclaim after reading the first page: “My mother also told me never to eat seeds… I remember that!” or “I tried growing my own seeds once, too.” It’s so great.

Non-Iranians are more curious about the writings in Farsi that I’ve integrated into the illustrations. One person impressed me so much by recognizing the Farsi interwoven into the earth, leaves and worms of the illustration where the little girl is watering the seeds. I think I had an unconscious motivation to “secretly” place Farsi into the art. I did not think anyone would notice so much, which reflects the way I thought growing up, keeping my intrinsic identity a secret so that I was not criticized or looked down upon because of it. But now, people are open to, curious and impressed by my heritage and that is a good feeling. Iranians ask if the story is written in Farsi as well, and that has got me thinking about doing a Farsi version.

PA: Can you describe the process of illustrating this book? I read that you used actual watermelons for some of it…
CN: Yes, I dipped watermelon slices into pink ink and created mono-prints from it. I was curious to see the impressions that the watermelon surface made, the texture and the areas that remained white (where the seeds once were). There’s one print that contains a small “heart” shape, purely by coincidence. I also used the watermelon rind and intertwined my drawings in with them, to make the end pages.

The illustrations are a combination of pen and ink drawings and watercolors. All the art was done by hand. Then I experimented with them on the computer, where I layered patterns creating different visual effects, like batik or silk screen, for example.

Some of the drawings were done at the Secret Garden Conservatory in Central Park, NY, and at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where I gathered artistic inspiration.

PA: You’ve self-published this book; what was that process like, and is it something you’d recommend to others who are looking to enter the children’s book market?
CN: The process of self-publishing was challenging, fun and extremely rewarding. I had initially priced the printing of the book in New York/the States, which at first discouraged me by being exorbitantly expensive. But then I googled printers overseas, choosing one in Hong Kong whose reputation, quality of work and service I was confident with.

I visited Book Expo America (BEA), a publishing event held in New York last summer that brings large mainstream publishers and indie publishers to one place, along with distributors, wholesalers and printers. Luckily, the printer I was going with had a booth there and I was able to talk about my project with their New York rep, who put my mind at ease. It was a little nerve-wracking to think of my book being produced somewhere so far away, where I had little control and no way of going on press to check the outcome! I had to trust it and there was much releasing (of control) I had to do in the process.

The whole process is pretty magical: you send a PDF across the world and a get a bound book in return. And the end result was better than I ever expected.

I would definitely recommend self-publishing as a viable alternative. Attending BEA was an encouraging experience as it gave me the opportunity to talk to several people that had taken that route successfully.

Initially, I wanted my book to be published by one of the big publishers and had it looked at by a few. Although
I received very positive feedback, they wanted me to change the story line and, having several colleagues that
published their work traditionally, I was well aware of the compromising I’d have to do with my artwork and
writing. I was not interested in doing that. I wanted full control. It is important that people also realize that a
publisher will give a nice advance when they agree to publish the book, but you’re book is one of many, and
most of the marketing responsibilities and initiatives fall on the artist/author. So it’s up to them to keep promoting it, not the publisher.

Self-publishing is a harder road, in a way, and there are times where I get discouraged and lose momentum and motivation. But you have to just keep going with it. This book so far had put me in contact with such a diverse group of people. It’s about connecting to others through your art and letting it take you where it will.

PA: Who are your artistic inspirations?
CN: Picasso has probably been the most influential artist in my life. His endless experimentation, curiosity and sense of play is something I have been very inspired by. For this book, I looked at Picasso, Paul Klee and of course, my own culture: Persian miniatures, calligraphy and children’s books, mainly an old one from the ’70s called My Room’s Lizard.

PA: Any plans for other books, either for children or otherwise?
CN: Yes, I have a couple of other books that are in the works and next on my list to be published but for now I am focusing on Grow, Watermelon and seeing where it takes me. I am interested in expanding the book into an animation, teaming up with watermelon farms, and even creating a clothing line, but all that is very much in the future and it’s one step at a time…I have to remind myself of that.

[Image: Grow, Watermelon, Grow book cover, Charlotte Noruzi]

Not Another T-Shirt: The Xerxes Alliance Combines Clothing and Storytelling

No disrespect to all the hustlers, but every kid with a computer is starting his own T-shirt line these days, throwing some “ancient Persian” motifs or Persian words on those horrible American Apparel shirts that run really small in the first place and then have the audacity shrink to nothing the first time you wash them. Nearly every other booth at 2007’s Mehregan was hawking t-shirts, most of them fairly boring ones, so I’m hoping this trend is on its way out.

Though I’m vehemently opposed to/annoyed by message shirts, including Iranian ones, I appreciate the appeal of wearable art. But because the arty t-shirt category is so saturated, much of it is actually more visual noise to me anyway. Thankfully for the t-shirt designers, I don’t really know anyone else that doesn’t go crazy for these things.

That said, I’m not categorically against t-shirt art, especially when it’s done well. So I am really intrigued by the new project of illustrator and graphic designer Pendar Yousefi, aka Legofish, whose Xerxes Alliance treats the clothing as part of an epic saga: each design generated is accompanied and inspired by related Persian myths, which Yousefi and his business partner are collaborating on re-writing in a short but lofty style reminiscent of American comics. I do wish the stories were a little bit longer, but I think it’s a genre thing. And what’s innovative is that the site is equal parts e-commerce and e-book-in-progress, something I don’t remember seeing anywhere else.

Yousefi is a big proponent of Persian culture: he also spearheaded the Project 300 campaign that encouraged pro-Iranian art to counterbalance the bad karma coming from the movie 300, and a Google-bomb campaign to recognize the Persian Gulf’s name.

The next installment of the Xerxes Alliance, Chapter 3, goes live in February 2008.

[Image: Shahin Edalati/Xerxes Alliance]

Persepolis and the American Cinematheque

LA’s American Cinematheque is presenting two events that Persepolis fans should check out:

1. A free roundtable discussion at the Egyptian Theatre (map) on Saturday, 1/12, at 1 pm, featuring Marjane Satrapi and other filmmakers nominated for the foreign film Golden Globes award. Satrapi is a really engaging speaker, so this event is quite promising.

2. A double feature that will screen Persepolis and an award-winning Romanian film, 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days, at the Aero Theatre (map) on Saturday night, starting at 7:30 pm. If you haven’t seen Persepolis yet, here’s a great opportunity.

Interview with Shahrnush Parsipur, Author

Shahrnush Parsipur is arguably one of the most important Iranian writers working today. First published when she was just sixteen years old, much of her writing casts a spotlight on the lives of women, in a style that combines frank language with magical realism. Parsipur has been jailed under both the Shah’s regime and that of the Islamic Republic for her work, which is currently banned in Iran. Most recently, Parsipur was the first-ever fellow of the International Writers Project at Brown University, and her e-book was published in late 2007.

In our interview, Parsipur discusses the impact of manic depression on her work, and explains how writing fiction is like playing God.

Pars Arts: Your new e-book, The Continuing Stories of Men from Various Civilizations, is a series of stories, all of which were written in the United States at different times. Can you describe the process of writing this book?
Shahrnush Parsipur: In 1992 I was invited to go around the world to speak – I wanted to go to Sweden and Germany, but I was jailed in Iran. So after I got out of prison, I came to Los Angeles and traveled to different cities to speak. In every city, I wrote a story. My first impressions of America were in these stories.

The America of Americans exists in many other stories already; this book deals with the America of a foreigner. When we first come here, what we see and notice are billboards of Coca Cola ads or big bags of popcorn in the cinema. Or massive portions of food. Or the big Chinese, Jewish, and Indian influence here, seeing the number of restaurants. This is what a foreigner sees. Most foreigners don’t go to the Midwest, so they don’t see traditional American life. Mostly we go to the east and west coasts, the hubs of foreigners, and that is what I wrote about.

PA: Why did you decide to publish this as an e-book, rather than as a traditional print book? Have many people have downloaded the book?
SP: Nur Karlica Iverson, who created my website [and illustrated the e-book], asked why I didn’t sell my books online. So in October or November of 2007 we published these stories in an e-book. There haven’t been many downloads because I’m not sure how to market them. And some people have trouble with downloading it because they don’t have the right software.

PA: This book, like Women Without Men, has strong elements of magical realism. Why do you prefer this style?
SP: Old Iranian stories use this style a lot, like in One Thousand and One Nights. All of these elements are in this book. And I use this old style now because there are a lot of things that you can’t say plainly. When you write about a country like America, when you pass through it and see a bird’s-eye view, you can see a lot, and I used magical realism to capture this.

PA: You have noted Dostoyevsky, Dickens, and Sadegh Hedayat as influences. In fact, this new book reminds me a lot of Hedayat’s Boof-e Koor (The Blind Owl), which relies on repetition with a difference as one of its main devices, as does your book. Why did you use this device in your e-book?
SP: When I was writing these stories, I was mindful of the differences that Iranians in Iran had with each other. Some people insisted on having beards, a symbol of tradition. Some people insisted that they were creative types and wanted to listen to music and drink; they’re the “tar player” of my stories. And others would shave their beards and just be ordinary. So I took these three types and decided to have fun with them and these stories came to existence from me playing with these three types of characters.

PA: You’ve spoken before about your struggle with manic depression. Many of the most successful writers in history have suffered from depression, including Hedayat. What role does this illness play in your work and in the way that you write?
SP: I didn’t have manic depression until I was 44 years old. I’ve now had it for 16 or 17 years. I think part of it is the influence of technology in my life; maybe it has to do with some electrical imbalance because of too much exposure to computers. Also, the times I spent in prison in Iran were a strain on me, emotionally.

The way that I’ve coped with this illness is that I’ve put magical realism aside. Before this, my mind would fly from place to place. Now that I’m manic, I try very much to keep my spirit calm and balanced. I stand in the way of my imagination, because I have to take care of myself. There’s no one else to take care of me.

In this sense, men who write are lucky and have an advantage. When they become writers, someone else usually cares for them – a woman. They go out and drink a lot and come home to collapse, and the women take care of them. But when a woman falls apart, there’s no one to take care of her. So because of my disease and because I have to take care of myself, my art, instead of moving forward, has perhaps suffered. When my mind wants to play, I don’t allow it to do so.

This illness started when I wrote Aghl-e Abi [Blue Reason, published in 1990 and not yet translated to English], and those around me didn’t think I was sick – they thought I was just very deep. So I lived with this for some time before I got myself treatment.

PA: Part of the reason, and maybe the main reason, your work is banned in Iran is its sexual content. Why do write about sex and why do you think sexuality is such a problem in Iran?
SP: Middle Eastern people have always been under attack and in wars and conflict, and this has made them take on a role of guardians of sex and sexuality of women; the attackers have always killed the men and sexually assaulted the women. So in a way the Middle Eastern society sees itself as guardians of women. But they’ve become such guardians that they’ve become oppressors.

Lately I write about my own sexual experiences for Radio Zamaneh. I see it as necessary, because as an older woman, I want to write about things that young women do and often feel guilty or bad about. Because I did those things, and maybe that helps them. But still I think sex will always remain a taboo for Iranians, because Iran is a central place that was always under attack. America is relatively far from its enemies, so there’s not that constant, unconscious fear or threat of rape.

PA: In the last few years, much of the most popular literature written in English by Iranian women has been memoir. Now we are seeing more fiction. Have you read any of this work and do you have any thoughts about it?
SP: Though I read many female authors, it’s mostly Persian work. I am aware that many women write memoirs, and I think this is because writing fiction is very scary. Writing fiction is like being a god. Getting to this point is a little difficult. Women are tiptoeing to this creativity by putting down their memories first. They write their memoirs, and when the fears go away, they can write stories.

Fiction was hard for me, too. When I finished Sag va Zemestan-e Boland [The Dog and the Long Winter, published in 1976], I felt like my entire being was empty. When I finished Touba, I felt like my being was shaking. And when I wrote Aghl-e Abi, I couldn’t believe it was me that wrote it.

Now, in America, I’m away from my homeland and no one understands my language, and I don’t understand theirs. When I publish a book now, ten people here read it and tell me it’s interesting, but it’s not a fortifying experience. If I was in Iran, the feedback would be more inspiring because it would come from a big community. For there to be a fire, there must be some fuel. When you live in exile, you burn yourself out.

PA: What are you working on now?
SP: I’m writing a book now that’s been about Iran and now I want to add a section about America, which I’m still debating about. Asiyeh Dar Miyan-e Doh Donya [Asiyeh Between Two Worlds] follows the life of an Iranian woman that goes from a village to the city and becomes a servant.

PA: How do you see your place in Iranian literature?
SP: I am a writer, age 61, and have a place among my peers. I don’t see myself as a very important person. But I was the second woman to write a novel in Iran, and I have written most of the novels about Iranian women. In this way, maybe I have a good place in Iranian literature.

[Image via Voices from the Gaps]