with every grandmother that falls, a mountain dies.
A multimedia textile art installation to commemorate dying knowledge archives and cultural practices.
2024
Only those two carpets, one in Tehran, the other in Oslo, a black silk scarf with tiny blue flowers without her braids, a pair of black medical slippers without her feet, a wooden stick without her hands and the story of Daal's daughter remained and did not remind me of Grandma Nane.
Installation centered on a carpet woven by the artist’s nomadic grandmother from the Zagros Mountains—an improvised, intuitive work that carries memory, cultural symbols, and lived experience across borders as embodied storytelling. The piece begins with the transference of its motifs onto graph paper—an act of translation that renders the patterns visible, measurable, and open to reinterpretation. Oral histories have faded; familial memory offers no clarity, and the grandmother is no longer alive to be asked. In the absence of historical certainty, the work embraces personal mythology. Childhood memories—, imagining it as a playground—become the foundation for a new narrative. These recollections animate the motifs with fresh significance, rendered through a series of drawings that reconstruct memory as form. And a video component complements the installation to offering the carpet as a living surface for storytelling, and reinterpretation.