Oh! How fortunate I am to be living in an age when photography has been invented. We carry the camera thing everywhere. We simply take it out, snap, and often take photographs that are supposed to summon a memory in an imminent future. These are no doubt a pleasant memory. But what happens to bitter memories? The ones that weren't "pictured" but we keep reviewing them in our minds and which overpower all our "pictured" memories. It could be that we picture memories to offset the weight of unpleasant memories. We reduce memories to images. Here's where it become dangerous!/// We may have misunderstood! Could it be that memory is the infinitive form of danger? Did we take risks when we started recording memory? Could it be that the word "memory" was invented to prevent us from recording memory but we inadvertently started talking about it positively? We carefully place memories in a photo album, go over them now and again, like a bandaged wound that we play with and comes undone with all the puss oozing out. So, there must be a relationship between memory and wound. We are aware of the time it takes to recover from a fresh wound. It dries and it takes time for the skin cells to fall off and for new ones to take their place. We have an itch, however, to play with the scab while the wound is healing. The wound starts bleeding again. We see the fresh blood and feel eased, though we may wince from the pain. It's a hidden masochistic tendency in us, a self-infliction of sorts that doesn't appear like a malady because it doesn't seem to be causing pain to others. It's like a camel eating desert thorns with pleasure despite the blood filling its mouth. In fact, the blood mixes with the taste of thorns to add to the flavor. This cycle never stops until the camel croaks from the bleeding. By the way, I have burn marks on my body! I remembered it when I was watching pictures of her. I have burn marks on my body! I usually recall it when she is smoking. I have burn marks on my body! The burn was no due to a direct contact with fire. It was from boiling water, which due to my carelessness in handling the samovar, spilled on my body. I have burn marks on my body! I realize it when I stand naked in front of the mirrors. I noticed that pain appears in two ways. I have burn marks on my body! The pain that gets forgotten. The pain that leaves a visible mark behind and perhaps this very fact is the reason for its getting forgotten. Going over visible wounds reduces their effect. It's a habitual thing. And what about the pain that doesn't get forgotten? The pain that doesn't cause any pain; the pain that is but isn't; is absent but present? It burns, itches, festers, stabs, devours, shears, stings, slithers, lives, and whose today is more than yesterday! It's a pain that hits the marrow of the bone. I have burn marks on my body! I'm not sure which one I would've picked had I had a choice. I know one thing. Pain is synonymous with life; pain is life itself! I have burn marks on my body! My friend had a cat that came down with some illness; he couldn't move and my friend had to feed the cat and give him shots. She said that as she pushed the needle in, she felt the pain and he would squint from pain. She called the vet and explained the situation. The vet had said that it was extremely fortunate that the cat still felt pain! He was right! Her cat died after three weeks and no longer suffered. By the way, I have burn marks on my body! Vatttan Projects 2021

_ Dastan’s Basement presents “None Turned into Memory", a solo exhibition of works by Alborz Kazemi. The exhibition opens on Friday 3 December 2021 and will be on view until Friday 17 December 2021./// Alborz Kazemi (b. 1989) studied painting at Tehran’s School of Fine Arts. After his graduation, he became more interested in photography and cinema and most of his works have been photography-based. His works has been previously presented in Four solo shows and various group exhibitions in Iran and worldwide including Tehran National Sculpture Biennial in 2020. Kazemi has documented regional press in videos and photographs for years. As a documentarist he has lived with the belief that a photograph is a reference. Skeptical today of this referential hubris, he is now destroying and altering his negatives to reclaim emotions and experiences he feels is lost. Returning to images that he has been storing for years, he realized at some point that there is always a loss in the stutter of a photograph. The fact that a photograph flattens the world of things, its content is at the mercy of many outside forces, and finds new identity in its presentation casts doubt as to the nature of its referential status. In the current collection, Alborz Kazemi destroys and reconstructs his negatives to imbue them with feeling and sensibilities that they have forgotten.

Curator: VATTTAN Projects