When projected on a 12 foot wide wall, with four fingers from the sides, and a couple of feet from the ground, the edge stretches a blue screen, 13 feet in diameter. It is the sky that covers the wall, And the flag sits in the middle of it. The flag holds on to the pole to the right of the screen with two feet separating it and the edge. One inch. Sprayed with light. Runs an inch of uncertainty all around the frame. Uncertainty about the nature of that inch of material. Content fights the materiality of the wall over one inch of margin.
At two feet, one considers the wall. At ten feet, the sky saturates that margin.
On a thirteen inch MacPro, wind mixes with the colors. Runs through the sheer fabric of the flag. Wind stirs the blue, the white, the blue. Then it comes undone, the fabric. Blues don’t mix. Star of David solidifies again, in the center. Smacks on the white on blue on white and runs into the sky. Large text in blue, matching the blue of the flag, reads “The Case of Burning an Israeli Flag,” and runs, from the left to the bottom. Can it remind you that this is an Israeli flag burning? Runs down. There reads the text, in small letters, in black, describing: “The lurid blues versus the white; flutters the fabric against the plain blue of the sky. The unsettling struggle of it in the jolting flames, is the scene of the observer. Here and now is a flag burning in the freshness of the blue sky. The blue of the fabric is not quite the tone of the blue in the sky. Blue against blue on white, or any other way around. This is an Israeli flag burning.”
Smacked on at the center of the image, the flag is there performing its mere function. As the wind blows, the flag burns. The wind blows and the flag flaps in the wind and hangs on to the wooden stick. The wooden stick, slightly crooked, runs to the bottom edge. It creates the assumption that it too hangs on to something, sturdy. Or some other thing that hangs on to something, sturdy.
This is the first piece of ‘Reiterative art’, it says it on the bottom of the page. The piece, the video, the text, the context of the spectacle, the Israeli flag burning reiterates the event that already exists. Nothing else to discover. The flag, the wind, the stick, the sky. and you scroll down to find the writing.
The reiteration of the flag burning, of the Israeli flag burning, of the Israeli flag burning without a context, against the blue sky, of the Israeli flag burning in the author’s personal space, in his website, with nothing else to chew on, with other contents, other artworks of the author/artist, all in context, begs for a simple consideration. Consider the piece, an index finger pointed at something. The index finger of the artist/the author. Pointing at what is being reiterated, reemphasized. In a personal space. The artist’s website; there is the artist’s bio. Of his dislocation. That he was dislocated from Iran, and they burn the flag. And Only in conjunction with the artist’s bio, the piece escapes the symbolic naivete. The Israeli flag stripped from its context, any context, and presented in conjunction with the artist’s biography, his personal relation to the flag, is a statement. A statement that considers the relation between the artist’s self, and the phenomenon of burning the Israeli flag. And if it’s to be displayed by another it will carry a different meaning.
The author, the flag burning, and the art discourse, the plugins make all the difference. The piece is the iteration of a unique combination. A unique reiteration of the burning of an Israeli flag.
…
20:30
Off center on the TV there is a woman in black garment. At 20:30 the woman’s eyes are still visible through the gray transition lenses. Black, head to toe, the woman appears 5 inches off center. Pale skin, thin brows, corky upper lip with a round face, the woman appears on TV exactly at 20:30. The black fabric of her garment rolled around her face and peaked on top of her forehead, curves back around her cheeks, tied around her neck. Another layer on top, wrinkled on the sides, covers anything left of her head-form. Black on black on black, with knots and folds and wrinkles.
At 20:30 her mouth is half open, her jaw about to gain momentum to enunciate the words that are already anticipated by her face-muscles. The woman did not yet spit at the microphone. It’s 20:30. Cheeks slightly lifted, tongue flat on the base of her mouth, and the creased forehead opens space for the tension in her face that starts from her chin and curls up a quarter inch of skin. At 20:30, it occupies one fifth of the TV, the form of the woman. Right shoulder raised, holds on to the straps of a black purse. The straps run down and exit the TV, on the bottom, where we can’t see, they attach to a black purse. Her right hand fisted, one finger forward, three fingers latched on to a white tube. Exists the TV, on the top left, where we can’t see, and attaches to a flag. ‘Of what kind’ we don’t know.
At 20:30, in the other four fifths of the TV, a bald old man is seated to the right, a bearded young man erected to the left, a white car, a black figured woman, a balding man, another one with a hat, are all set out of focus. It’s 20:30 and the logo to the center of the microphone tells us that this is an interview on Iranian national television. The logo to the top right corner of the TV reminds us that it's Quds day.
At 20:30 the living room is saturated with the yellow light. White flowers, protruded out of the plaster ceiling, formed in a circle, converge into a center. Runs down two hand spans of black cable hanging on to the light fixture. The light is dime, but still washes the room of any pure white. The white enamel of the stool, its rectangular top, concave into a decorative mold at the edge, its three curved legs, one invisible from this angle, are caramelized in this light.
At 20:30 the onion is caramelized. The smell wafted into the room and seeped through the black T-shirt of the boy sitting in front of the TV. Leaning on the left shoulder, with the left arm perpendicular to the ground, head too, forty degrees to the left, stares at the TV set. Right arm folded in proximity to his body, grabbed onto the remote control. Right hand wrapped around the controller, wrapped around the front of the controller, thumb bent at a sharp ninety degree, presses on the red button to shut down the TV, 60 inches in diameter with a shiny black edge. Presses on the red button to shut down the woman’s mouth, slightly open with her tongue pressed on the bottom of her jaw. Presses on that button to let go of the pressure, to let go of the red button, to let go of the controller, to let go of his thumb held at ninety degrees by force, to let go of the day.
It’s 20:30 and the woman is about to spit into the microphone, and the boy is about to press the red button. It's ‘Quds’ day in Iran.
…
The Case of Burning a Flag
The lurid blues versus the white; flutters the fabric against the plain blue of the sky. The unsettling struggle of it in the jolting flames, is the scene of the observer. Here and now is a flag burning in the freshness of the blue sky. The blue of the fabric is not quite the tone of the blue in the sky. Blue against blue on white, or any other way around. This is an Israeli flag burning.
Empty of any presence and clueless about time or location, the video is literally an Israeli flag burning from start to end. One may not pay much attention or dismiss the scene to move on to another, but to surrender and watch the video is to engage in speculation and the familiar web of suspicions. These suspicions lead nowhere, returning to the initial conviction that it is an Israeli flag burning, carrying a symbolic weight. However, this display lacks the expected context of opposition or a motive of disdain. The artist's biography and statement are presented as part of the aesthetic, explicitly conveying their position as an unbiased observer and their motive to ontologically capture the complexity of this socio-political phenomenon within the artist's inevitable connection to the event.
The image of an Israeli flag burning is tied to an ongoing conflict regarding the legitimacy of the state of Israel in the Middle East. This conflict has endured for over five decades, with its roots stretching back thousands of years. It is an Arab-Jewish conflict, further complicated by the involvement of an artist from Iran. As convoluted as it may be, the repetition of such a phenomenon, contextualized by an Iranian artist, invites investigation into the labyrinthine nature of the conflict. Unrestrained and detached from the mundane, it transcends both abstraction and expression, serving as a minimalist gesture that points towards a multifaceted phenomenon intricately linked to the artist's own life. Symbolism, though a simplistic interpretation of the piece, fails to capture the nuanced historical layers. The concept may be straightforward, but it is deeply rooted in historical relations and unspoken cultural references.
The video featuring the flag is initially showcased on the artist's website. In this context, the personal presentation of the artist's website limits the observer's attention to the biographical connection between the author and the event. The event intertwines its ontology with the artist's biography and their stance on this political event. The trajectory of exploration leads to results that contradict the representation conveyed by symbolism. The driving motive behind such an iterative piece lies in the question of "why" – why this particular phenomenon and not another? The answer resides within the folds of the artist's personal connection, elevating the concept beyond linear historical points.
The last Friday of Ramadan in Tehran evokes memories of news reports on Quds Day, raising alarm at the global uprising in support of the Palestinian nation. Quds Day was initially declared by Ruhollah Khomeini on August 7, 1979, as an anti-Zionist day of protest. Disregarding historical facts and detached from political causes, one witnesses the burning of an Israeli flag while basking in the warm embrace of the sun shining through the sheer fabric of the curtain. Returning to the television, the news continues to report live. Friday marks the weekend in Iran, and the intricate details of how this day unfolds serve as the missing link to understanding the significance of watching another nation's flag burn. The repetition of the Israeli flag burning not only reflects the geopolitical implications of this event but also triggers cultural reminiscences.
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Ekbatan
The building’s footing governs the foreground, staggered concrete posts which recede out of frame. The repeated shape of these engaged columns mimic the whittled feet of a chair. Painted white and stocky, they underpin a nondescript office building in the style commonly seen constructed at the end of the twentieth century. The perspective of the image allows one to notice the gridded underbelly of the building. A thin band of gray paint wraps around each pillar where it meets the earth. Tightly woven cobble stone covers the ground, stretching from one side of the image to the other .
The viewer can not see where the cobblestone ends. The pillars allow for one to pass underneath the building on foot and a fluorescent sign underneath the building glows illegible. These pillars serve another purpose. There are Slogans written in black spray paint on each slab of concrete in order “Death to Khamenei” on the nearest pillar, “death to Sepahi” written on the middle pillar, and “death to Basiji”occupying the furthest pillar from view. Each slogan is written in the center of each pillar from its base to its peak. Each slogan stretches from one side of the pillar to the other. The second slogan slants to the left, the first portion of the writing higher than the later. Each slogan is written in clearly legible handwriting. There is no way to know if these slogans were painted a month ago or an hour ago. No one is present. No one can be seen to be present in the frame. Someone has taken this picture. Who were they? What was their motive? Someone has written the slogans. What did they see that day at this location that we do not see in the picture? No emotion is embedded within the picture nor the text describing the picture, implying that the content itself lacks explicit emotional elements or cues. The text or picture may convey factual information or depict a scene objectively without attempting to evoke specific emotions. The emotional response, interpretation, or connection with the content is left to the individual experiencing it. This approach emphasizes the role of personal interpretation in shaping emotional engagement. This is a photograph of a building in Tehran. This is a photograph of a building anywhere in the world. This is either a building the viewer recognizes or does not recognize. Efflorescence, a deposit of salts that can form when water is present on concrete surfaces, has left dark fluid stains of grayish tint down the side of the building where rain and snow have run. This means that there are water-soluble salts in the concrete. The columns underneath the building do not bear similar stains. What is this snapshot? This cold snapshot which one cannot see anything outside of. The entry point is that there is no entry point. A young man wanders through this neighborhood of uniform and heavily framed buildings. He recognizes this building as many others do. His Aunt and grandmother live in this area. They live there with their door always open for airflow, grandmother sitting criss cross on the floor with left leg stretched out, looking like she’s stretching. High up, on the tenth floor, she sits with shoes piled up at the door, and the sound of gas coming out of the stove. The young man leaves the apartment. He has sought solitude on foot. He passes by buildings that resemble one another, which resemble the building in the image. He passes through one cold snapshot after another, they make up his biography. He returns there in his dreams, never knowing how he ended up there again. All of a sudden what makes this snapshot unusual is the slogans on the wall. They provide for us a sense of time and space and significance. All spaces are significant, but a new dimension of significance is added to an already unique space. Someone wrote them. Why, in this space that is like another space. What do these acts of rebellion mean for the young man, who knows these walls?
The ground is not perfectly level, suggesting this is not a new construction. The sky is not in frame. The building is well lit. One can see several leafless trees reflected in the building’s first floor window, and a very small bright white patch of sky.
…
The video featuring the burning Israeli flag finds its initial showcase on the artist's website, a digital portal where the observer is ushered into a realm of personal presentation and intimate connection. Within this virtual space, the attention of the observer becomes tethered to the biographical threads that link the artist to the event. It is here that the very ontology of the flag burning intertwines with the artist's own biography and their unwavering stance on this political occurrence. As the trajectory of exploration unfolds, the results defy the expectations set forth by conventional symbolism, for they lead the curious wanderer down unforeseen paths, unveiling truths that transcend the superficial interpretations of linear historical narratives.
The driving motive behind the creation of such an iterative piece lies concealed within the enigmatic question of "why?" Why, out of countless possible phenomena, did the artist choose to recreate the burning of an Israeli flag? The answer, like an elusive whisper in the wind, lies within the intricate folds of the artist's personal connection to the subject matter. It is through this connection that the concept transcends the confines of mere historical points, delving deep into the realm of personal resonance and profound significance.
As the sun casts its golden glow upon the last Friday of Ramadan in Tehran, the ambiance is tinged with echoes of Quds Day, a day that reverberates with global unrest in solidarity with the Palestinian nation. Originating from the fervent declaration of Ruhollah Khomeini on August 7, 1979, Quds Day stands as a potent anti-Zionist commemoration, an emblem of resistance and protest. And yet, as we delve deeper into the realm of this artistic endeavor, we find ourselves veering away from historical facts and the gravitational pull of political causes. Instead, we stand as witnesses to the burning of an Israeli flag, a spectator basking in the gentle warmth of the sun's embrace as its rays dance through the sheer fabric of a delicate curtain.
Turning our attention back to the television screen, the news continues its live broadcast, a constant reminder of the world outside. In Iran, where Friday's mark the arrival of the weekend, the intricate details of how this day unfolds hold the key to unraveling the significance of observing the burning of a foreign nation's flag. It is within these nuances, hidden in the spaces between the lines, that the repetition of the Israeli flag burning takes on a new dimension. It becomes a reflection of the geopolitical implications that underpin this event, serving as a catalyst for cultural reminiscences that echo through time.
It is at the intersection of these multifaceted layers, where the symbolism of the burning flag intertwines with personal connections, historical complexities, and unspoken cultural references, that the true essence of this artistic expression comes to light. It is an evocative journey, an invitation to traverse the labyrinthine corridors of perception and delve into the profound depths of human experience. And as we stand at the precipice of understanding, we are reminded that even amidst the turbulence of conflicting narratives, art has the power to transcend borders, challenge conventions, and ignite the flames of contemplation within us all.
This fictional piece is a short story composed of three short-stories contained within it, along with two descriptive fragments. It revolves around an artwork described here, presenting a fictive endeavor to make a statement about it. The artwork itself comprises two distinct elements: the burning of the Israeli flag as a phenomenon and the author's personal connection to this event. Through these fragments, the story aims to guide the reader through the essential and fundamental details that contribute to the unique significance of burning the Israeli flag and its suitability for display on the artist's website.
A Short Story About Three Short-stories About a Piece, Or One, and Three, and One