Evolving Narratives
Reflections on Iranian Photobooks and Their Context Since the 1990s
Written by Amirhossein Kardouni
The Tasvir Archive is dedicated to collecting and publishing texts on contemporary image-based art in Iran and on Iranian image-based artists whose work holds historical and critical significance. We collaborate with independent writers from Iran and the diaspora in lifting up this work. These commissioned writings aim to shed light on the lives and artistic practices of artists, offering researchers and art enthusiasts a deeper and more nuanced understanding of the artwork. Through this engagement, critical dimensions embedded in artistics practices can be more thoroughly explored.
This essay accompanies a showcase of Iranian photobooks curated by Dastras Platform for the Tasvir Archive exhibition at Arizona State University in September and November 2024.1
The international art world has historically had limited exposure to Iranian photobooks. Whenever Iranian photobooks are referenced outside of Iran, they are often centered around pivotal themes such as the Islamic Revolution (1979) or the Iran-Iraq war (1980-1988), and this is not without justification. During a brief yet intense period, photographers documented two of the most significant events of the twentieth century while the government skillfully harnessed these images and the revolutionary spirit to serve its own agenda. The wealth of striking photos captured from the revolution to the war combined with the avant-garde graphic design expertise inherited from the pre-revolution era, led to the creation of numerous notable propaganda photobooks that hold both historical and aesthetic significance. These works have been showcased in several exhibitions, including the exhibition and photobook titled Enghelab Street, A Revolution Through Books: Iran 1979-1983 (Spector Books, 2019)2
The book makes a distinctive contribution to the field, serving as an archive in its own right. Darabi’s work critically explores the profound role of photobooks and political theory publications from the origin of the 1979 Iranian Revolution to its aftermath.
Following the revolution and war, the form and function of Iranian photobooks shifted significantly, evolving through two primary stages. The first, spanning from the mid-1990s to the mid-2010s, was characterized by publications emerging from a new photography scene in Iran, produced mainly by registered private publishers and semi-official publishers. The second stage, beginning in the mid-2010s and continuing today, marks a shift towards self-publishing and small independent publishers, allowing for greater creative freedom and diversity of expression among Iranian photographers.
This essay explores the production contexts of Iranian photobooks across these two stages, tracing shifts in their functions, visual styles, and themes over time. Along the way, some of the remarkable and lesser-known examples of Iranian photobooks will be briefly introduced. Given the expansive nature of the subject and the narrow literature available, this essay provides a foundational overview of Iranian photobooks, acknowledging its limitations. Summarizing such a topic inevitably leads to some oversights, yet it is hoped that future studies will explore the subject more deeply.
Mid-1990s to Mid-2010s
After the Iran-Iraq war in the 1990s and through the 2000s, “concerned photography”—previously embraced by Iranian photographers in response to the era’s pressing demands—began to lose its relevance. As a result, photographers began exploring personal expressions through documentary photography and experimentation. Photographers who had gained prominence during the war and revolution transitioned to new practices or took on teaching roles in the newly established academic field of photography, nurturing a new generation of photographers. During this period, art institutions and galleries flourished due to improved economic conditions, incorporating photography into their annual exhibition programs as Iranian art and photography gained international recognition. This era also coincided with advancements in higher education, a growing discourse on Iranian history and identity among intellectuals, relative political freedom stemming from the rise of reformist parties, economic stability, and the substantial influence of the internet and satellite television on Iranian lives. As a result of this dynamic environment, art photography emerged as a movement, and numerous publishers and institutions began publishing photobooks for renowned photographers of the time, including the followings:
Yahya Dehghanpour, who studied photography in the United States in the 1970s, presents a playful approach to the recreation and entertainment facilities in the northern outskirts of Tehran in his book Mountain Sites (Art and Cultural Organization of Tehran Municipality, 1995). Through his innovative approach, Dehghanpour examines these places by focusing on ordinary objects and environments, offering a fresh perspective on Iranian life. His work provides valuable insights into the lifestyles and tastes of the frequent visitors to these facilities. Notably, these photos evoke a sense of nostalgia for a bygone era in Iranian life, capturing moments and experiences that are now part of the past.
Sadegh Tirafkan's book Sadegh Tirafkan's Photographs (self-published, 1999) presents an enigmatic engagement with Iran’s ancient sites, evoking a sense of ritualistic longing before the presence of the country's history. His performative approach during that era inspired numerous photographers in Iran.
Farshid Azarang's Amnesia (Herfeh: Nevisandeh, 2005) stands out for its rare blend of artistic photography and strong appeal within the art community. Combining evocative imagery with thought-provoking texts, the work explores themes of family, love, death, and art. Carefully sequenced photographs guide viewers through a narrative filled with contradictions, enhanced by self-confessional writings that touch on personal experiences, such as the artist's reflections on his mother’s death or his voyeuristic observations of a neighbor.
Shahriar Tavakoli’s Night series, published in his renowned book If You Don’t See Me (Nazar Publication, 2005), stands out with its homage to night photography legends like Brassai and Todd Hido while infusing it with an Iranian undertone and maximalist aesthetics.
Behnam Sadighi’s Ekbatan: West of Tehran (Mahriz, 2009) presents a stark contrast, depicting the bustling residential area of Ekbatan, mainly known for its modern architecture, population, and subcultures as apocalyptic and desolate. This portrayal serves as a haunting commentary on the potential future of Tehran, grappling with environmental and social crises. Mehran Mohajer, in the introduction of this book, has described the place as being “dislocated and relocated at the middle of a no man’s land.” Sadighi’s photography can be seen as a continuation of the urban photography movement in Iran, re-examining the city with various approaches, sometimes highly conceptual.3
Kourosh Adim’s The Ambiguous Presence of Meaning (Mahriz, 2001) blends visual and performative experimentation. In the well-known images of this book, he presents a poetic reflection on the cultural and religious dimensions of Iranian identity, evoking a sense of divine presence. In this book, one can also observe a form of self-reflexivity resulting from new experimental approaches in Iranian photography during that period.
In her Goftare Nik (Good Words) (Hatje Cantz, 2000), Shirana Shahbazi, a Swiss-based photographer, counters the stereotypical depictions of Iran—often either demonized or exoticized—in Western media and art scene, presenting a more nuanced view of ordinary life. By focusing on the everyday experiences of Iranians, she shows the multifaceted nature of Iranian life and challenges preconceived notions, emphasizing the commonalities shared across cultures. Indeed, the representation of Iranians, both by their fellow Iranian artists and by outsiders, has been a central critical concern in Iranian art over the past three decades.
Parisa Damandan, an artist and art historian who mainly works with archives, started Out of the Ruins: Bam Photography Rescue Project (Barjesteh van Waalwijk van Doorn, 2003) after a fatal earthquake in Bam in 2003. She traveled to Bam to rescue the remaining negatives burried in the rubbles of printing shops, doing everything she could to protect them from destruction. Damandan managed to save thousands of negatives, preserving memories of life in Bam before the disaster. Her book, inviting readers to gaze into the eyes of those lost to the earthquake, leaves a haunting and deeply emotional mark that lingers long after each page is turned.
By the late 1990s, the rise of the reformist party to power in Iran catalyzed a new era of creative expression in photojournalism and documentary photography. This period saw the publication of notable photobooks by several photographers with prior experience in photojournalism. One prominent example is Hasan Sarbakhshian's Time Pulse (Self-published, 2005), which employs an ironic lens to critique political conventions. Once deemed impossible, this bold approach in some his images appears to expose hidden agendas. Time Pulse was banned after its first printing, with authorities denying permission for a reprint.
Peyman Hooshmandzadeh, who previously worked as a photojournalist, explored themes of identity in his works 100 (Cheshmeh, 2009) and One (Nazar, 2006). His playful engagement with long-established symbols of masculinity in Iran offers a
fresh perspective on Iranian male identity within a patriarchal society, combining humor with poignant social commentary. 4
At this time, several professional Iranian photojournalists, drawing on their previous success during the revolution and war, had the opportunity to travel the world and document global events. However, while they captured significant moments, only their press images were published immediately out of necessity, while their more serious works remained unseen for years before finally being released.5
Among these, Mohsen Rastani’s The Hard Time (Sacred Defense and Revolution Photographers Association, 2014) exemplifies the blend of photojournalism with artistic experimentation. Far from his earlier photography during the Iran-Iraq war, Rastani adopts a surrealistic lens, influenced by Eastern European photography, to convey the chaotic nature of the Bosnian war (1994-1996). At times, it seems as though he views the war-torn landscape as an opportunity for artistic experimentation, blurring the line between documentation and pure creative expression.
Among documentary photographers publishing photobooks, Nasrollah Kasraian stands out as one of the most prolific figures. Kasraian, renowned for his ethnographic photography, traveled extensively throughout Iran over many years, resulting in the publication of numerous photobooks. Kasraian's books serve as essential works that have contributed to a deeper understanding of Iran and Iranian identity while fostering a sense of national unity. In Endless Journey (Iranian Youth Cinema Society, 1991), Kasraian captures the unique hardships and resilient spirit of Iranian nomads as they migrate from one place to another. In Transition (Nazar Publications, 2007), Kasraian documents the lives of Iranian rural communities, highlighting the history and their connections to the nature just before the beginning of rapid urbanization.
The scarcity of photobooks by female photographers during this era is striking, especially considering women's active involvement in gallery exhibitions. 6
Looking back at the photographs taken by these women, it becomes clear that their work was, in many cases, remarkably progressive. This may explain, at least in part, the state's apprehension toward women’s movements and its influence on the publishing landscape—where promoting such ideas through photobooks could have accelerated their impact. Additionally, obtaining legal permission for book publication allowed for easier state control and censorship. 7
This made gallery exhibitions—a more transient and localized format with possibly smaller audience— a more tolerable space for the state and a more liberal venue for the artists, enabling them to address sociopolitical topics more freely. Therefore, in this era, gallery exhibitions have provided a vital platform for more progressive works that often struggled to find their way into print.
Sometimes, however, exhibition catalogs—actually booklets featuring artists’ work—were published and distributed concurrently with exhibitions without requiring a publishing permit. These publications allowed photographers to take advantage of the unique characteristics of the book format, such as portability, distribution, and longevity, circumventing the limitations of legal publishing. An example is Katayoun Karami’s untitled booklet, independently published in 2008 or 2009, which had a significant print run. Her works are well representative of photographers whose main concerns were women's issues. While the photographic representation of women's issues can be explored through exhibitions from the 1990s and 2000s, traces of these critical narratives are notably absent from the photobooks of that era.
In terms of aesthetics, most photobooks from this era, with a few notable exceptions, did not fully capitalize on the unique potential of the book format. Many photographers seemed to view photobooks as merely extensions of their exhibition work rather than as distinct artistic space in their own right. In many cases, the tendency to produce homogenous series limited the effectiveness of photobooks, which thrive on varied content and dynamic presentations. Most photographers at the time created series based on a single subject matter, a unified genre, or similar visual structures—an approach where the number of photos was used to demonstrate the photographer's experienced "eye" or prove a hypothesis. Such an approach was better suited for gallery walls and small series rather than being printed in a book format. In other words, presenting photos in book format demands a more heterogeneous approach to content, an attribute rarely found in the projects of Iranian photographers.8
Consequently, although many Iranian photographers exhibited valuable works in galleries at the time, their images did not always translate as effectively into book form. Many photobooks ended up compiling multiple series in one book, attempting to escape the monotony of photos and the brevity of most series. Despite this fact, photobooks played a major role in the transferring and conserving newborn ideas and aesthetics of the time among Iranian photographers.
Mid-2010s to Present
As we approach the late 2010s, Iran's sociopolitical landscape is undergoing significant transformation. The tension between the values of the younger generation and Islamic fundamentalists, compounded by an economic crisis and international sanctions, has led to cultural stagnation, limited communication with foreign countries, increasing emigration, and a series of protests in Iran. These conditions have profoundly influenced the function and reception of art. Amidst this unrest, artists are increasingly driven to reflect sociopolitical challenges in their work. However, traditional exhibition spaces, particularly in the realm of photography, are becoming less accessible as galleries face closures or reduced activity. In response, artists, who are bolder now, are turning to alternative venues that offer greater freedom and fewer institutional limitations. The rise of informal exhibitions in homes, rooftops, cars and public spaces reflects this shift. Simultaneously, self-published photobooks and photobooks published by small publishing houses have emerged as a medium for photographers seeking to navigate these constraints. Offering a budget-friendly and less regulated avenue for showcasing their work, these books allow photographers to assert their voices outside the confines of state-approved art.
In terms of aesthetics, the works of emerging photographers are becoming increasingly diverse and are now better aligned with the demands of books. Moreover, the organization of several art book fairs, exhibitions focused on artist books, and the emergence of small independent publishers and initiatives have contributed to a discourse surrounding the medium.9
further enhance the discussion around photobooks, leading to a growing recognition of their significance as an art form and an increasing number of photobooks made by students. Following are a few notable examples of this era:
Sana Ahmadizadeh is an emerging photographer who primarily works with the medium of book. In her self-published work, Hidden Land (2022), she explores Haft Tapeh, a region near her hometown, which is a place marked by the rise and fall of ancient civilizations and numerous contemporary conflicts. The region is entangled with poverty, abundance, and collective amnesia. By adopting a neutral aesthetic, Ahmadizadeh provides a context for contemplating this hidden land, speaking of its many layers with a mysterious tone. The images possess a retrospective quality while also hinting at prophetic future possibilities.
Soheil Heydari’s The Morning When It Snowed (2021) captures a moment of uncertainty in his neighborhood during the national protests of November 2019 in Iran. His photographs from that day, marked by a shocking internet blackout forced by the government to keep people in the dark, evoke a sense of foreboding, reflecting the emotional landscape of a community grappling with sudden upheaval.
In Forget Me Not (self-published, 2023), Saba Niazmand portrays her daily life during the protests of 2022-2023. The photographer constantly reminds us to consider the photos within the context of their specific time and space. Niazmand has also put a sign on some pages of her book that needs to be decoded. In examining Iranian art photography, we find numerous photographers who have employed hiding, coding, or ambiguity as devices to further their purposes. It could be regarded as a specific aesthetic in Iranian photography.10
This technique, rooted in Persian literature, has long served as a means for artists to navigate the boundaries and censorship in Iran.
Kimia Askarian, in Tehran University of Art (self-published, 2024), has captured portraits of university students spending their leisure time around campus, dressed as they choose despite the strict dress code imposed in Iranian universities. The subjects look directly at the camera, exuding confidence and comfort in their eyes and body language. However, these photos were taken amidst the events of 2022-2023, and most probably, as both viewers and subjects likely understood, this act of peaceful protest in that specific space would not come without consequences.
Since the 2010s, intimate and everyday life has become a central theme for Iranian photographers. Kavian Esmaeili's No Miracles Here (Blue Tiger Books, 2019), published in the United States, offers a candid glimpse into his and his friends' lives in Tehran. Their lifestyle, far removed from official narratives, is surprisingly not atypical among contemporary urban Iranian youth. The book shows a very well-thought approach to color and sequence of images. The title may seem somber, but the photographs suggest a vibrant and rebellious generation.
Bardia Salimi’s series of zines, titled For You (Self-published, 2021–2023), also examines the photographer’s intimate life; however, he uses an enigmatic narrative, intriguing title, bold design, and text to invite viewers to speculate and reflect.
In an open call, Alireza Fani invited couples for photo shoots, resulting in a limited-edition book, Privacy (Self-published, 2017). This work features formal portrayals of couples in their homes, printed on chromogenic paper, and prioritizes documentation over artistic expression. The book gives couples the freedom to present themselves on their own terms rather than conforming to the representations dictated by official media. By voluntarily stepping in front of the camera, unconstrained by the dress codes required for legal publication, they reclaim control over their own image. In Iran, where restrictions on public representation remain a contentious issue, turning this act of self-presentation into a published work subtly challenges these constraints. Privacy work as a memory for the future.
Shahrzad Darafsheh, in her book Half-light (Gnomic Books, 2018), presents a serene narrative of her battle with cancer, avoiding direct references to the disease in her imagery. The sonnet-like sequence of photographs illustrates two potential futures for the photographer. As readers turn the pages from right to left, the book moves from darkness to light; conversely, moving from left to right takes them from light into darkness. Notably, Farsi and English scripts have opposing orientations.
Hedieh Ahmadi's Phantasma (self-published, 2018) chronicles a journey with friends to the southern coasts of Iran, rich in local myths and stories. The images evoke a mysterious, dreamlike quality, enhanced by the book's layered design. The Farsi title of the book, Hava’ie, alludes to a mythical narrative among southern Iranians, who believe that ominous winds can haunt a person's soul, referring to the affected individuals as Hava’ie. The arrangement of images and their eerie atmosphere suggests that either the viewer or the photographer may be haunted.
Smell of Earth and Tree by Negar Yaghmaian (self-published, 2021) also portrays the southern region of Iran, focusing on the lives of elderly sailors and their families. The book looks into their troubled marriages and explores the social ramifications of the decline of traditional seafaring. While Yaghmaian leaves us wanting more context, she introduces viewers to an overlooked narrative of suffering through portraits, landscapes, and archival images.
During this era, eclectic and more experimental approaches could also be found. Mahoor Zahraie, Roozbeh Maleki, and Ashkan Daneshmand, inspired by Vilém Flusser's writings, published a series of photobooks titled Exercise based on the works of other photographers and photographic traditions. Their books—Decay, Blind Windows, and Threshold (Tavaali, 2020, 2022, 2022)—are significant for their theoretical exploration of photography's condition in Iran and its relationship to world photography histories. They integrate text, images, and external media to substantiate their ideas.
Mohammadreza Mirzaei, photographer and lecturer, addresses themes of migration and disconnection in Postcards (Blue Tiger Books, 2019), referencing Color Field painting. Having lived and studied in the United States for years, Mirzaei creates bold blurred images by photographing his mobile screens and the Pacific Ocean. While these works seem to echo the freedom of Abstract Expressionism, a closer look at the production process, titles, and content reveals a more isolated artist grappling with the inability to communicate and be understood. 11 He calls the photographs “decorated pain.” 12
Hannaneh Heydari's Melancholic Draught: November 2019 Until an Unknown Date (Self-published, 2019) presents a collage-like journey, intertwining the political unrest of 2019, the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic, and her personal experiences during this turbulent time, all conveyed through a mix of photographs and screenshots. The Ingenious design of her scroll installation—featuring pages on rollers in a wooden box—invites interaction reminiscent of social media scrolling while simultaneously encouraging a contemplative engagement with the past.
As previously mentioned, galleries once served as more appropriate venues for showcasing progressive works of art compared to book publishing, however, for younger generations of photographers, self-published books have emerged as a vital opportunity. Self-published photobooks—and those published by emerging independent publishers—should be regarded as both an activist and aesthetic response to the general stagnation, dominance of galleries and nepotism. The insistence on these two roads of presentation is not without justification, as noted by Horacio Fernández, recognizing at least two histories of photography—one rooted in exhibitions and museums, the other in “books with nearly unlimited (re-)editions”—deepens our understanding of photography history in any region.13
Over the past three decades, in Iran, the trajectories of bookworks and exhibition works have not only diverged but often contradicted each other. This divergence, while potentially problematic, can be viewed positively, especially over the last ten years. The proliferation of photobook production, alongside exhibition formats, has enriched the diversity of the Iranian photography landscape, ultimately leading to a stronger sense of authenticity that had been questioned in earlier decades. Now, when we juxtapose Iranian photobooks, we gain a more nuanced understanding of Iran and its complexities, revealing facets that may be overlooked. However, the shortage of effective institutions to archive, study, promote, and market photobooks complicates efforts to assess their impact and increases the risk of them going unnoticed.
Beyond their autonomy and boldness, recent Iranian photobooks highlight a wider array of ideas and concepts, including everyday life, the significance of contextual interpretation, and the frequent issue of poor printing quality. Recent publications reflect a direct or indirect representation of private spaces and daily experiences, emphasizing a society striving to break free from dominant homogeneous narratives. This emphasis on self-expression serves as a form of resistance and a means of identity formation. It’s important to note that lifestyle has been a battleground between the state and the people in Iran since 1979. Another consideration is that the images are deeply contextualized within Iran’s everyday experiences, political events, and social complexities, all of which significantly shape the readings. Sometimes, even the most mundane elements—such as friendly gatherings, hair, immigration, Instagram, Danish pastries, empty classrooms, electrical enclosures, and rooftops—are laden with sociopolitical implications. On the other hand, the low-quality printing often found in self-published photobooks is immediately noticeable and sets them apart from their international counterparts. This stems from Iran’s current printing and economic challenges, which limit artists’ ability to produce quality books. However, one could argue that this characteristic is meaningful in its own right; these books reflect the sociopolitical climate of contemporary Iran, serving as harbingers of autonomy rather than conformity—much like Japanese Xerox photobooks, which were emblematic of their specific time and later recognized for their distinctive aesthetic qualities.14
The evolution of Iranian photobooks from the revolution to the present-day mirrors broader social and political transformations. Following the Iran-Iraq war, there was a notable surge in artistic photobooks as Iranian photographers began to navigate the shifting cultural landscape, embarking on innovative creative journeys. From the mid-2010s onward, the rise of self-published works empowered photographers to explore and critique their surroundings with newfound freedom. Recent years, marked by political unrest and more severe economic challenges, have further influenced the photobook scene, emphasizing the necessity of focusing on this medium. The bookworks of contemporary Iranian photographers are breaking boundaries and engaging with pressing issues, serving as dynamic indicators of the interplay between art, politics, and identity. Their ongoing evolution elevates these books beyond mere artistic documents, turning them into tools for dialogue and cultural resistance. Iranian photography is expanding, with photobooks serving as one of its key tools.
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1 Amirhossein Kardouni, July 2024
2 The exhibition of Enghelab Street was held in Polygon Gallery, in Vancouver, Canada, from November 10, 2023–February 4, 2024 by Hannah Darabi.
3 Other photographers who contributed to this movement are Mehran Mohajer, Mohammad Ghazali, Sasan Abri, and Mehdi Vosoughnia. For further reading on photography and the city, refer to Herfeh-honarmand, no. 56, “Art photography and Urbanization in Iran” by Zanyar Boloury and Shamal Mortezaie.
4 Hale Anvari, in her article 'No Country for Young Men' written for Aperture, addresses the absence of Iranian male representations in exhibitions outside of Iran.
5 Notable examples include Reza, Kaveh Golestan, Kaveh Kazemi, and Alfred Yaghoubzade.
6 Shirin Neshat, Shadi Ghadirian, Gohar Dashti, Ghazaleh Hedayat, Chupan Atashi, and Newsha Tavakolian are some of the artists who worked with this theme.
7 On the other hand, even if permission to publish a book is granted, there is always a risk of withdrawal, which poses a substantial economic threat to publishers producing works with sensitive content.
8 I must mention that this idea was first proposed in an unpublished interview between the author and Mohammadreza Mirzaei.
9 New publishers such as Tavaali and Tehran Zine are focused on photobooks and artist books. Baygan: The Archive of Photos and Words is an institute for research in Iranian photography that provides researchers with an archive of photos and photobooks. Among the events, we can mention three editions of artist book exhibitions New educational programs at art universities curated by Foad Farahani, the Photobook Tehran exhibition at Sazmanab, Photobook One at Emkan Gallery, Bon Art Book Fairs, Bazar Art Book Fair, and the events of the Dastras Photobook Platform.
10 See Mohammadreza Mirzaei address the topic in “Where Is My Photo? A Study of the Representation of Tehran in the Work of Contemporary Iranian Photographers” in Ubiquity Photography’s Multitudes.
11 A significant number of books by immigrant artists have been released in recent years, including renowned works by Hannah Darabi, Amak Mahmoodian, and Hoda Afshar. This topic requires a more in-depth analysis, which we will not undertake here.
12 From Postcards Press Release.
13 See “Towards an Understanding of the Market for Photobooks” by Mortiz Neumuller in “The Photobook World: Artists’ Books and Forgotten Social Objects.”
14 See “The Photocopy Photobook 1970-1981” in “The Japanese Photobook, 1912-1990”
