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VISUAL ESSAY with Tirdad Hashemi

All images: © Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi and @gbagency_paris

Curated by Varia Serova



Tirdad Hashemi is an Iranian artist whose drawings and paintings chronicle the presence of the intimate, familial, societal and political circumstances at work on her psyche. Hashemi’s candid autobiographical renditions dynamically interlace fantasy and reality while using her immediate surroundings as a setting, with the artist in her own way creating work that is evocative, sensual and driven by the impulse to evoke the sheer energy of a situation.


“Painting, in my working process, always starts from a story and continues like a dream. Everything is always possible in sleep.”

Tirdad Hashemi in her studio in Tehran

Photographer : @Ilyamontaseri

Make up: Sana Amini © Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi


Tirdad Hashemi in her studio in Tehran

Photographer : @Ilyamontaseri

Make up: Sana Amini © Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi


Tirdad Hashemi in her studio in Tehran.

Photographer: @Ilyamontaseri

Make up: Sana Amini © Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi


Spat 2020 out of my intestines, 2021, mixed media on canvas, 70 x 50 cm

© Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi


The dance wounds wrapped around my waist, 2021, mixed media on canvas, 70 x 50 cm

© Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi


Sweetheart, Your hair grows the crops of the loneliness plant, 2021,mixed media on canvas, 70 x 50 cm © Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi



"At 9:23 in the morning, I am awaken by the door bell and with a heartthrob. After hearing the voice of a man who claims to be from the recycle office, I press the button that opens the door and head to the toilet. After one time throwing up from the excess anxiety, I can imagine you and how if you were here you would stare at me in amazement with those round eyes of yours. After that damned day, at 7 am, when I had somehow smelt the disaster I woke up from a ringing sound echoing in my ear and they told the news of your death to my mum on the phone. Mum was not crying. She couldn’t believe it. I was scared she would have a stroke, and months after that incident i would go to mum at nights to make sure she is alive. I don’t know how long has passed since, I don’t even want to know. My room’s phone was disconnected all these years. I put my phone somewhere in the room that’s out of service. My house in north of Iran didn’t even have a door bell. I don’t know what to do about the door bell in Tehran."

Icarius, 2017, mixed media, Photo: Aurélien Mole @gbagency_paris

© Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi



"Once I dreamt of a woman with very beautiful hair and the same locks of hair were little by little filling the space and caused anxiety and tension. It was as if my girlfriend could cause both beauty and tension in my life. Even though the lady of my dream was a stranger. But I guess I was one with my brain on why it created that image."

Born from worldwide anxiety, 2016, acrylic, Photo: Aurélien Mole @gbagency_paris

© Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi



"This painting comes from one day of collective living. Collective living however uneasy for painters has always been my preference. Cohabitation always teaches us that we can be more flexible because people’s manner of life differ. However, a friend once asked me if I find it hard to express myself in a specific group, and I wrote in response to her: I don’t understand what you mean by a specific group, but I think I do. I mean with the definitions that society has for each and every one of us, we fit in some groups and don’t fit in others. No matter how much we wouldn’t want to be included in any definition. But it’s been set for us. In this collective living, sometimes we don’t fit into each other’s moments, sometimes we do more beautifully, in every second of this life with others we wonder if someone else was in place of this person how would my moments turn out?"

Do you wanna join?, 2016, acrylic, Photo: Aurélien Mole @gbagency_paris

© Courtesy of Tirdad Hashemi