'Blood pressure', 2015, installation
Born Tehran (IR), 1977
Breeze, wind, air, breath, whiff, draft, blast… A bodily shape emerges when the breeze hits the curtain. A storm unfolds once the natural and mechanic forces act together on a stage blinded by the black plastic that simultaneously conceals and uncovers. It is not clear whether the play has already started or is it about to end. The air performs together with the pipes, the machine and the stage itself creating a rhythmical pressure.
The magic makes one believe that the seemingly impossible is real creating an illusion, so does theatre make one believe and doubt. Once behind the scenes, the futility of a mechanical spider, a bug fallen upside-down, tying up the lace mirrors our daily spins and hustle. Meanwhile on the top of the turning platform the horses of the childhood’s merry-go-round have been injured and fixed together leaving the army of the fresh shift more and more impatient.
In geometry middle is a point equally distant from the surrounding edges. A centre. Does it mean the same from a political, economic or biological perspective? More likely the middle greets you in the corridor, a foyer, suspended, waiting.