Mohammad Mehdi Tabatabaei

clot

All things innocent carry their own beauty. Being it quiet and serene, or flamboyant and proud, there is an attractiveness to virtue against which we have no defense. As soon as we witness it, we unconsciously transpose it onto ourselves and make it our own. When looking at something attractive, being it spiritually or physical, we are somehow instantly compelled to compare that something with our own image of self and make up the balance to see how we fare. Usually, we like to conclude that we share at least part of it within ourselves, if not all or even more. No wonder then, that when this beauty is blemished, tarnished, spoiled, we feel tarnished and spoiled. Or, in similar fashion, when innocence is threatened, violated, attacked, we feel violated and attacked.

Enter: “Clot”, by Mohamad Mehdi Tabatabaie.
With pleasure, I shall leave it to others to describe, comment or analyze his artistic techniques. My lack of knowledge and ignorance on these matters is, well, total. But I know one thing without knowing anything, Tabatabaie can and does create pure beauty out of a mere few strokes of his pen or brush. The figures in this series without exception do have that beauty of innocence I meant to describe before. Arguably of the quiet sort – simple, clear and with an overriding calmness. But out of unassuming tones of black, white and grey emerge expressions that come with such intensity, such humanity, that one cannot help but press one’s nose almost into the canvass, gaze from up close in the figure’s eyes, try make a connection and hope to distill what emotions lie at the core of its appearance.
We could have left it at that, and be fully satisfied. Were it not of course for the fact that Tabatabaie has a little more to say. As here he creates his trademark figurative splendor, only to shatter it a second later, instantly disturbing and violating all that what our instincts tell us should be left untouched. His tool – the dullest instrument of mind-numbing banality, the LED. Introduced as a practical electronic component emitting low-intensity red light, Tabatabaie allows it to return with a vengeance and emit its vulgarity on his innocent figures with much intensified figurative brightness. Transformed from a dulling discharge of tacky chic, to a noteworthy pointer of matters profound. Yanked out of its comfort zone in Iranian society where it somehow managed to conquer a prominent position in most unimaginable places, it now suddenly finds itself pierced into near real-live bodies, communicating a message that couldn’t be farther from its customary one. With penetrating precision, it exposes and tells a story. Pointing to the sensitivities of our bodies, we cannot help but point our thoughts in the same direction; where does it hurt? where does it hurt most? Could it hurt me? Or you? Or most of us? And so a visual is given to feelings of unease, or fear or acute despair, depending on the situation one finds oneself in – imaginary, exposed or real.

Intended or not, the multiple and subtle contrasts I like to read into these works make both for a visually appealing and powerful series. Innocence versus violent intent. The realness of beauty versus the fake of the LED. The attractiveness of the figures versus the repulsiveness of their vulnerability. And perhaps most of all, the limitations of the physical versus the possibilities of the mind.

Alas, no matter what you think of these words, or, ultimately, these works, I hope there is at least this one thing we can agree upon: When we look at Clot, we cannot do so with indifference. And there I think we have a good measure of the quality of this piece of art, and by extension of its creator too.

Paul Hulshoff