The Intersection of Inquiry and Silence
A Conversation with Giti Norouzian on the Occasion of the “Red Parrots” Exhibition
Hossein Ganji, Journalist, researcher, and visual arts critic- April 15, 2025
(translated into English by AI)
Giti Norouzian (b. 1968) holds a PhD and an MA in Art Research from the University of Tehran, and a BA in Painting from Alzahra University.
Her portfolio includes exhibitions in galleries such as Seyhoun and Faam (in collaboration with the United Nations), Niavaran Cultural Center, the Central Gallery of Minsk (Belarus), DelaArte Gallery in London, and Montreux Gallery in Switzerland, among others. The Red Parrots is the title of her latest series and recent exhibition at Shamis Gallery. In the exhibition statement, Foad Najmedin writes:
“This collection is a narration of the scars and the imprint of hardship and pain that, over these years, have become a shared experience for all. It has transcended bodies and figures and taken on an eternal form. Giti Norouzian’s parrots have been portrayed and narrated time and again. Each time they have become more refined, more polished, more distilled—until what remains is only the redness of their shared suffering and the entanglement of their fate. Perhaps so that the knot may loosen and these painted reds may be released from the tightly woven burden of destiny.”
This exhibition provided an occasion to sit down for a conversation with Giti Norouzian.
Let’s begin, if you agree, with the title of your new collection on display. Where did The Red Parrots come from?
The title The Red Parrots emerged during the process of shaping the collection—through experiments with different materials, colors, and forms. It is a response to an inner journey that unfolded as I created the works; a process rooted in unconscious and conceptual experiences. These concepts—shaped by events that entered the collective unconscious of the Iranian people over recent years—reflected a generation that, for me, carried a red hue. They arrived and, all too soon, took flight.
You have studied Persian literature extensively. How much does the title of this exhibition, and more broadly, your work, draw from Eastern mystical literature, especially Attar’s famous story?
Although years of reading classical texts have certainly left an imprint on my subconscious, there was no direct or conscious reference to any particular literary work during the creation of this collection. What appears in my work stems more from my personal encounters with lived experiences. Of course, one cannot deny the influence of the spirit embedded in illuminated manuscripts and the aesthetics of Persian literary illustration, but these influences surface indirectly in the form and color of the works, yet not in the manner of overt symbolism or direct narrative, which is often expected or assumed.
I’m curious—what drew you to art in the first place, and why painting among so many other possible fields?
My journey into the world of painting began quite by chance, during middle school. In high school, I became a student of Mr. Nami Petgar, and that path naturally led me to study art. Despite the shortcomings of academic art education at the time, painting became a space for me to explore and express my inner world—and it still is. I continue with it passionately.
After studying painting, you pursued art research. How influential has research been in shaping your artistic work?
Profoundly so. For me, painting without an intellectual and emotional foundation is meaningless. My curiosity and desire to understand art more deeply led me to pursue art research. I truly believe that research not only enriches our understanding of artworks but also makes the creative process more conscious—especially in today’s world, where historical and conceptual awareness holds real significance.
Color plays a major role in your work, especially when it’s intensified or used in stark contrast. What does color mean to you, and what role does it play in your art?
In my work, color is not merely an aesthetic element—it is my language of expression. When words fall short, color conveys emotions, tensions, and lived experiences. The contrasts in color reflect internal conflicts and the complexities of life. For me, creating a piece is a journey in the moment—one that embraces accidents and mistakes. Colors in my work are alive, in motion, and give rise to meanings that are not predetermined. Color is not a tool for me—it’s a living, flowing companion.
in the world. I want anyone, anywhere, who sees one of my works to feel that it comes from the East—with the spirit of Iranian love and mysticism.” Do you feel that this distinctly Iranian language and perspective still live in your work? Hasn’t the pull of global modern abstraction grown stronger?
What I meant by “modernity” was the world shaped by the intellectual, industrial, and cultural transformations of the 19th and 20th centuries. But today, we live in a postmodern world—layered, diverse, and full of questions. Modernist and contemporary art are not the same, and an artist needs to recognize that. Contemporary art, alongside formal experimentation, pays attention to roots, local elements, and environmental context—subjects that invite me into exploration.
And where would you say the wellspring of your ideas lies today, in this contemporary moment?
The primary source of my ideas is lived experience—sudden, striking moments that leave an impression. In the process of creation, the work itself leads me. I don’t begin with a clear, fixed plan. I value chance and the unconscious, and intuition plays a major role—though my theoretical studies also inform the process. For me, an idea isn’t the starting point, but rather a path—one that leads toward discovery, toward understanding the world and myself.
To what extent are you influenced by your environment and surroundings, as well as social and cultural news and issues? Do you follow them and create your work based on them?
I do not see myself as separate from society, and I am influenced by the social and cultural atmosphere. However, this influence in my works is not direct or didactic. My reactions are internal, contemplative, and mostly manifest as feeling and form rather than narration. Anxiety or sadness arising from crises may appear in the color or texture. My works are an internalized reflection of external conditions, not a report or statement.
How much do you let yourself go and surrender to your subconscious when creating a work, and how much are you constrained by consciousness and preconceived ideas? Tell us about your process of arriving at the subject, the artwork, and your working style.
For me, creating a work is a free and unplanned experience. Initial ideas may be present, but it is the subconscious that guides me during the process. I do not control the work; rather, I listen to it and give it space to find its own path. The subjects in my work are formed through experience and interaction with materials, not through thinking. Although study and reflection are important, I release them during the creative process to allow something new and unknown to emerge. For me, every work is like a journey that has a defined beginning but an uncertain end.
In art, we face two perspectives: one considers beauty an inseparable part of art, and the other gives greater importance to concept, even if beauty is lost. Which one do you believe in, and how is beauty defined or perceived in your art?
Beauty in contemporary art is relative and cannot be confined to a fixed definition. In my work, feeling, experience, and curiosity are more important than classical beauty. The beauty that attracts me may initially seem ugly or harsh, but if it carries a deep experience, it manifests in the most beautiful way. My goal in creating art is not to achieve eye-pleasing beauty, but to understand something unknown. True beauty for me lies in honesty and discovery.
The tree root and the bird’s wing are two recurring and central elements in your recent collection. What do they mean to you, and how do they come together despite their apparent contrast—one seeming connected to the sky and the other to the depths of the earth?
The tree root and the bird’s wing appeared in my recent collection unconsciously and without prior planning. Although these two images seem opposed, for me they symbolize simultaneous evolution. I have always lived between the desire to be rooted and the desire to fly, and these two sometimes appear in conflict and sometimes overlapping. The coming together of the root and wing symbolizes the human condition—being connected to one’s past and culture while also seeking liberation and creating new meanings.
You have experience exhibiting your works both repeatedly in Iran and also abroad. How is Iranian art and its works perceived from the outside?
My works have been exhibited in Iran and abroad, and this experience has exposed me to different perspectives. The foreign view of Iranian art is usually accompanied by curiosity and a search for depth, a feeling of the East, and a different cultural sense. In my opinion, the attraction of Iranian art for foreign audiences is the intersection of the universal language of modern art with Eastern roots and emotions. I have sought to create a dialogue between these two aspects of my identity: neither imitation of global art nor regression, but a combination of what is Eastern in me and what is global.
Most of your works are abstract, and abstraction is somewhat a result of formlessness. Poetic expression is also a product of imagination, both of which you incorporate in your works. How do you define Western abstraction alongside Iranian concepts? Can we say that you dwell somewhere between tradition and modernity, West and East?
Yes, my works are mostly abstract, but for me, abstraction is a combination of imagination, poetic expression, and Eastern sensibility. I live on the border between modern formlessness and Iranian poetic imagination. Abstraction for me is not merely liberation from representation, but a platform to express invisible emotions and experiences. Between tradition and modernity, East and West, I have built a home where I am neither fully settled in one nor reject the other. More important than my work being recognized as Eastern or Western is that it is honest and resonates with my experience and spirit. These boundaries are tools for me, not destinations.
Tell us about the works in your recent exhibition. What led you to organize this show, and do you have any unreleased or new work in progress? What does the future hold for you?
My recent exhibition was the intersection of years of experience, exploration, and silence. I felt it was time to share a collection of works that had taken shape during a particular period with the audience. Forms, colors, and the interplay between accident and control came together in this show. The idea for the exhibition emerged naturally from the works themselves. These pieces needed to be seen—not for validation, but for dialogue with others. There are still works that have grown quietly, and new ones are on the way. Repetition is troubling for me, and I am always experimenting. The future excites me, because there is still so much I don’t know.