‘The Alchemist’: a deeply meaningful metaphor

Growing up in Iran during a period of political and social upheaval had a profound impact on the way I see the world and, by extension, how I make art. Chaos was the backdrop of my childhood, and perhaps that’s why my work often involves finding structure within disorder - an attempt to organise turbulence into meaning. Living through instability trained my eye to recognise patterns within confusion and taught me that art can be a way of transforming dissonance into a form of understanding.

I don’t think of myself as an artist in exile; I simply think of myself as an artist. Every experience contributes to shaping who we are, and immigrating at such a formative age certainly left its mark on me. It gave me perspective on cultural dislocation, identity and belonging, but it also sharpened my sensitivity to systems of propaganda and power. Coming from one country where official narratives were imposed, then arriving in another with its own myths and ideologies, gave me the ability to see through surface-level truths and to search for what lies beneath appearances. That questioning, that peeling back of layers, continues to inform my practice.

The Katonah exhibition is a 20-year survey of my practice, spanning early works on paper, paintings, prints, sculpture and archival materials. We chose the title ‘The Alchemist’ because it serves as an umbrella for many of the themes I’ve been interested in over the years; transformation, hybridity and the merging of disparate elements into something new. The figure of the alchemist, for me, is a metaphor for the role of the artist: someone who experiments, who takes chaos, history and material and transforms them into meaning. As for audience, I don’t think of my work as directed at one group in particular - it’s open to anyone who is curious, whether they come from an art background or simply bring their own life experience to the viewing.

Bosch fascinates me because he was a world-builder - someone who staged vast allegorical landscapes filled with archetypal figures that still resonate today. His work operates like a theatre of the human condition, where folly, desire, spirituality and absurdity coexist in one frame. I’ve always been drawn to artists who create worlds rather than just images. My influences are broad, spanning the art of the Ancient Near East, to Medieval painting, the Renaissance, Surrealism, Abstract Expressionism, Persian miniature painting and Japanese woodblock prints. What connects them is their ability to go beyond representation and touch on the symbolic, the universal, the mythic.

My advice would be the same for artists anywhere: expose yourself to the very best art you can. Seek out works across time and geography, whether it’s contemporary, classical or from traditions outside your own. The broader and deeper your visual vocabulary, the more tools you have for your own expression. And perhaps just as importantly: trust your own voice. The world will always try to define what art should be, but the most vital work emerges when artists define it for themselves.