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Tahereh Asadi

Reading
I build a bridge between philosophy, poetry, pain, and purpose. Through words, colour, and texture, I explore the bitter truths of human existence, transforming suffering into beauty while reflecting on the history of human thought.

Some artists are satisfied when their work has meaning; for me, meaning is inseparable from making art. As a visual artist, I care deeply about beauty and aesthetics, but I cannot create without asking what lies behind them: what gives life purpose, and how can we make sense of the human condition?

This has led me towards philosophy as a way of thinking about existence and searching for meaning. I am interested in how thinkers and poets, shaped by their cultures, circumstances and experiences, develop different ways of understanding life, and how these ideas can find powerful expression through visual art. My practice is interdisciplinary, moving between painting, conceptual art, literature, poetry and philosophy.

With my roots in Iran, I found a particularly close connection with Omar Khayyam, the Persian astronomer, mathematician, philosopher and poet. I have returned to his Rubáiyát many times since I was around twenty-three, and each reading has continued to reveal something emotionally true about life. I do not seek to illustrate his poems literally. Instead, I try to repaint the imagination within them and translate their ideas into visual form.

Khayyam's poetry holds a tension that is central to my practice: the bitterness and inevitability of death alongside the beauty and urgency of being alive. A flower, grass or moment of pleasure can be beautiful, but it is also temporary. Knowing that life ends does not make life meaningless; it can make the experience of living more precious.

I bring Persian and English text into my paintings to allow these ideas to move between cultures and languages. Edward FitzGerald's 1859 English translation of the Rubáiyát became an important bridge for me between Persian literary tradition and an international audience. I use words and typography not as captions, but as part of the visual structure of the painting.

Mathematics is equally important to this process. Khayyam was not only a poet and philosopher but also a mathematician and astronomer, and I am interested in the way these different forms of thinking existed together within him. I incorporate mathematical symbols, numbers, and formulas around the paintings, drawing on the visual language of mathematical manuscripts. I also draw on the tradition of Persian miniature painting, particularly its use of written elements around an image, but replace the traditional framing language with mathematics and numerical forms.

Within the central areas of my paintings, I translate ideas and poems into colour, shape, form and texture. Some works are divided into three or four parts, allowing a single rubai—a four-line poem—to unfold through several visual sections. I work with a wide range of unconventional materials, including sand, wood, soil, paper, paint and other materials, building dense, tactile surfaces. At times, I feel I am almost colouring a sculpture. The physicality of the surface reflects the tension in the ideas themselves: something can be beautiful and painful, joyful and bitter at the same time.

My colours can be warm, intense and joyful while the meanings beneath them speak of mortality, uncertainty and loss. I am interested in this contradiction rather than resolving it.

For me, this movement between disciplines and cultures is essential. I move between the borders of literature, poetry, philosophy and painting, using the visual language of painting to express what words, ideas and human experience have made me feel. I want the audience to read through the painting—to encounter its ideas, its poetry, its beauty and its pain through the physical language of paint and material.

Lived Experience

I was born in western Iran, among rough, textured mountains and an intense landscape that left a strong impression on me. I grew up within a long history and culture where people have often lived alongside chaos, tragedy, and difficult realities, yet continued to search for beauty, joy, and meaning in life. This coexistence of darkness and beauty became deeply embedded in the way I see the world. I was particularly drawn to how this could be expressed through traditional Persian painting and miniature, where extraordinary beauty, colour, light and delicate detail could emerge from centuries of complex histories and experiences. For me, beauty was never separate from what lay beneath it.

From my earliest memories, I can see myself drawing and painting. When I was five years old, I began painting on cardboard with charcoal in our yard, and later drawing on the roads with chalk. My family and those around me recognised how important making images was to me and began providing materials. At twelve, I received second place in an international primary-school painting competition in Asia, an early recognition that encouraged me to continue.

During my teenage years, I spent much of my time in libraries, reading novels, philosophy, and the writings of thinkers from different parts of the world. I studied Humanities before choosing Fine Art Painting for my Bachelor's degree. Thinking and painting developed together for me, and during my degree my practice became increasingly concerned with philosophical ideas. I also received first prize in conceptual art at my university in Yazd for a physically and conceptually critical presentation. Although I did not continue primarily with physical conceptual installations, this experience strongly influenced the way I approached painting and the relationship between material, ideas, and meaning.

During my Master's studies in southern Iran, I researched Eastern philosophers and their relationship with Iranian miniature painting, particularly the Safavid tradition. My research brought together philosophy, history, literature and visual culture and strengthened the interdisciplinary character of my practice. My first publications grew from this interest, exploring the relationship between poetry and philosophy, followed by articles examining Iranian culture, painting and miniature. Writing and researching these subjects further shaped my understanding of the relationship between thought, literature and visual art.

After graduating, I became a lecturer at an art university in my hometown, where I taught for around four years. Alongside teaching, I developed my own practice and held solo exhibitions in Tehran exploring feelings of limitation, imprisonment and the desire to cross cultural and social boundaries. Throughout these years, I have also continued teaching and tutoring art in different settings, with people of different ages and in different places.

Travelling through different parts of Iran also became important to me. Experiencing its varied landscapes, languages, ethnic cultures and ways of life gave me a sense of the extraordinary diversity within the country. I carried these different thoughts, histories and visual experiences into my painting, often through my relationship with Persian painting and miniature.

Later, I travelled through Turkey and Europe before eventually settling in the UK. Moving between different cultures changed my perspective again and gave me an experience of freedom that affected both my life and my artistic thinking. I continue to carry these different landscapes, histories, cultures, and ways of thinking with me. My practice in thoughtful art is still evolving, and I feel that new thoughts and ideas are gradually emerging in my work as new flowers of thought, philosophy, and beauty.

 

Equation of Erosion

The Fragile Equation

The Nonsense of the Scholar

The Equation of Eternal Wine

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