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CRITICAL REFLECTION

A Home for Pain

Pain has been a significant part of my life for as long as I can remember. I believe that we have instinctive ways of handling pain as humans and in the past few months I researched the ways that we hold, process and let go of pain. It all started when Negar, my cousin, got arrested in June 2022.

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A portrait of Negar
Pencil on paper

2015
21x29.7 cm

Negar is 22 years old. She is my youngest cousin and I was eight when she was born. From the day she was born, which I remember clearly, her being has always brought joy into my life. The joy of looking at her little face when she was a baby, the joy of watching her learning to talk, the joy of playing together, the joy of seeing her grow up, her kindness, intelligence, and her laughs, the joy listening to her playing the piano and singing, the joy of seeing her efforts, and in the last few years the joy of being able to talk to her about anything as she had become an adult.

Negar got arrested in her house in Shiraz, Iran by the Ministry of Information officials on 26th of June because of being a Baha’i. The day that she got arrested in Iran I collapsed. I could not stop crying for days. Imagining her in prison was driving me insane. This pain, this genocide that Baha’is of Iran are facing has been a part of life since I got to know myself. The members of Baha’i community in Iran have been imprisoned because of their religious beliefs for generations. I kept thinking about how I wish that Negar would be the last generation to suffer these discriminations.

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Negar
Earthenware ceramic

2022
20x20x15 cm

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While my dear Negar was in prison, I was in a pain that had many aspects. There were questions that I was asking myself trying to get to know this pain better. Far from my harmful homeland and my beloved family, this was the only way that I could resist this pain. I realized that this pain is personal, but also communal and has been through generations before me. While in pain, humans have a tendency to close off so they won’t be exposed to more pain.

Thinking about the concept of closing off I made containers with very small openings comparing to their sizes. It was after pouring liquids into these pieces that I realized that these small openings not only make it hard for the liquid to be poured in, but also it affects the process of the liquid coming out. In “Container for pain #3” the opening is so small, that the liquid cannot come out even after turning the piece upside-down. This research revealed a new aspect of how we experience pain for me. We hold the pain. We become homes for that pain and by closing off, we try to limit the pain that we incur yet we end up closing the way for it to go out as well.

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Container for pain #3
Earthenware ceramic

2022
7x7x8 cm

The idea of becoming home for pain and the dome-like forms of my containers, encouraged me to research Nader Khalili’s work again, an architect that I was interested in his work while studying my Bachelor of Architecture. Nader Khalili (1936-2008) was the world-renowned Iranian-American architect, author, humanitarian, teacher, and innovator of the Geltaftan Earth-and-Fire system known as Ceramic Houses, and of the Superadobe construction system. Rumi, the Persian language mystic poet, was the inspiration behind Khalili’s work for his wisdom concerning humanity and the elements of Earth, Water, Air, and Fire.

A building made with Nader Khalili's method

Born in Iran as one of nine children, his quest was to empower the world’s poor and refugees to build homes using the earth under their feet. Inspired by the mystical poetry of Rumi (whose poems he studied and translated from an early age), his architecture was distilled from the timeless principles of this universe and its timeless materials—the elements of earth, air, water, and fire, and has been described as “Poetry crystallized into structure.” (CalEarth, n.d.)

In his book ‘Racing Alone’ Khalili explains how he decided to let go of competing with others and started a solo journey in the deserts of Iran researching ancient ways of building homes in order to find a way of home building with the soil that can be done anywhere in the world.

“The miracle of soil

The miracle of fire.

What a simple way, what a straight forward way. The technique they have used for thousands of years in this country for firing bricks.

My answer has been in the history, at the end of a dilemma at the middle of this vast desert.

My answer has been waiting for thousands of years for me to discover it.

I think to myself that all my houses, all the cocoons that I want to build will be made, fired and glazed with this simple way. With this kiln that is as thick as a knuckle and is made out of thatch.” (Khalili and نادر خلیلی, 2017)

It is fascinating for me that I am using the same forms as Khalili’s houses for my containers for pain. As if there is a part of our collective unconscious that finds this form natural and accessible for us. And as I don’t use a pottery wheel for making the pieces, I have been using the coil method which is quite similar to the ways of building that Khalili promotes.

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A building made with Nader Khalili's method

A time-lapse of me making my most recent piece with coil method

“Now my material is clay, and maybe it needs a massive pottery wheel, but I do not like wheels as it makes everything symmetrical. Even the finger pressures and mistakes would become symmetrical.

As I am sitting at the table, drinking my tea slowly, I play with a paper tape. I lie it down on the table, hold the two ends and gently turn it into a dome. While this dome is taking shape between my two fingers, I imagine the space that can exist by this curve. I get a feeling of excitement from this discovery. The unlimited forms that a curved line and a paper tape can create in the space shows me many paths:

I will build this room by tape-like forms, just how a cocoon is woven. Just how a scallop is made. With this approach, the symmetry and uniformity of the curve and dome would be broken. With this tape, I can create any space that I wish.” (Khalili and نادر خلیلی, 2017)

Khalili saw no borders between a house and the soil. His idea of making a house straight from the soil and using the main natural forces for creating it is an ancient wisdom that has been passing on through generations. In ‘Racing Alone’ he elaborates how he saw his houses as big ceramic pieces built based on human proportions so humans can live in them.

“This clay that is in my hand has fascinated me and brought me from the city to this shivering mirage. I see a dream and a wisdom in this clay that forms itself in front of my eyes. A wisdom that has been weighting on my thoughts for a long time and is becoming alive in front of me in this form.

First, I will form this clay in the size of my own body and will build it like a cocoon for myself. Then, I will make a huge fire inside it and will turn my clay cocoon into stone (will make it stronger), and after that I will cover the whole house with a glaze for ceramic. In the end, I will make a space for myself to sit, sleep, and walk around in.

This thought excites me.” (Khalili and نادر خلیلی, 2017)

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Symbolizing purity and perfection, the dome of the Lutfullah Mosque is lit by sixteen screened windows around the drum. (Henri Stierlin, Stierlin and Buchet, 2012)

Other architectural forms that inspire me are the forms found in the old architecture of Iran. From the old city of Yazd and the masterful usage of soil in the residential buildings to the colourful ceramics used on the domes of mosques with their amazing architectures. Many of these buildings have complex plans that hide parts of the building from the entrance. This complexity is not limited to the plans, but also shows itself in the forms of the domes and details hidden in them. Full and empty spaces allow light to move through the building since these buildings are quite sensitive to their environment and have close relationships with them. An example of this relationship is elaborated by Saeid Khaghani in his book Islamic Architecture in Iran:

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The Lutfullah Mosque, on the square of Maidan-i Shah in Isfahan. This small mosque, built 1602-18 by Shah Abbas, is located in the centre of a row of shops. Above the muqarnaz vault of the pishtag, the dome can be seen, standing out of alignment with the entrance. (Henri Stierlin, Stierlin and Buchet, 2012)

“The first thing catches the eye in most of the traditional houses of Iran and Central Asia – though it is not exclusive to those areas – is the lack of any specific furniture: this is indicative of the lack of functionally divided space. While conventional understanding of an architectural complex would nowadays refer to the combination of functionally different spaces, Iranian traditional houses are fabricated of functionally different spaces, that differ only in their form and spatial quality. Spaces are not named for their functions, since these are not definable, but are instead named after their form, their position within the complex, or, more importantly, their annual or seasonal time of use: summer or winter house, spring and autumn space, moonlight (night) place, and so on. In the large complexes of the wealthy, a family spends a part of the year in a section of the house: in other words, their movement inside the house are defined according to seasonal changes. Here we may use the contradictory expressions ‘sedentary nomads’ or ‘nomadic citizens’. This fact deconstructs the common nation of a sedentary ‘taking place’, which is the building of a permanent position. Moving in harmony with the forces of nature of the universe, which can carry a negative suggestion of fatalism, can also represent an affirmative understanding of the outer world.” (Saeid Khaghani, 2017)

The daily movement of the sun and schematic plan of an Iranian house
(Saeid Khaghani, 2017)

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The closeness of these buildings to nature and how they are in harmony with it is something that I want to be part of the character of my ceramic objects. I want every viewer to look at them and think that they can make something like that for themselves, a home for their own pains.

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References:

Henri Stierlin, Stierlin, A. and Buchet, A. (2012). Persian art & architecture. New York: Thames & Hudson.

CalEarth. (n.d.). CalEarth. [online] Available at: https://www.calearth.org/.

Khalili, N. and نادر خلیلی (2017). تنها دویدن: از کویر ایران تا کره ماه توسط نادر خلیلی در سال 1370. Ketab.com.

Saeid Khaghani (2017). Islamic Architecture in Iran : Poststructural Theory and the Architectural History of Iranian Mosques. London [U.A.] Tauris Academic Studies.

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