Shadi Ghadirian

I have vague recollection of the Islamic Revolution of 1979 but its impact on my life, and that of my peers, was profound and beyond measure. At only 4, occupied with my childhood fantasies, I was thrown in the midst of a political turmoil that had swept over the country. Since we lived in downtown Tehran, I could often hear the commotion and chaos outside and see the anti-Shah writings and slogans on street walls, where they remained till I learned how to read 3 years later. Things calmed down (at least for me) for a short while before the Iran-Iraq War broke out in 1980. At first, the War was far from home but it slowly crept in and disrupted our lives. My teenage years were spent with the sound of air sirens and explosions. I remember how the horrifying sound of missile attacks and explosions woke me up in the middle of the night and how I thrust myself into my mother’s arms. The war ended in 1988. The city was covered in photographs and murals of war martyrs. I graduated from high school around the same time. I was far from a model student and didn't expect to continue with higher education. My two older sisters had studied art. I followed in their footsteps and picked art and photography as my major. To me photography was a fast art. It was enough to press the button and create an image. (2275084)