Contemporary Art in Context: Hangama Amiri

Hangama Amiri is an Afghan-Canadian artist who works mostly in textiles that are combined with painted and printed designs. Her works address issues such as gender roles, social norms, cross-cultural communication, and geopolitical conflict in Central Asia, and how these affect the daily lives of women in both Afghanistan and the migrant Afghan communities in the West. She presents stories that are based on her memories of childhood in Afghanistan, and of migrant experiences.

Eight Seated Women and Other Works
Amiri began working with fabric while in graduate school at Yale; up to that period (2015–2016), she was primarily a painter. She works with indigenous fabrics from Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Central Asia that she finds in various locations, textiles that are culturally familiar to her. She experiences joy when reflecting how, as a child, she was always surrounded by bright, colorful clothing worn by her mother and aunts, who made their own dresses.

This display of pattern and color is evident in Eight Seated Women, a work that presents a group of Afghan women in bright traditional clothing wearing lipstick and fingernail polish—things that are condemned by the current Taliban leaders. The vibrant composition of women dressed in formfitting clothing also counters the Taliban’s insistence that women wear the chador or burqa (full-body garment with enveloping headwear). Eight Seated Women may be an allusion to Amiriʼs memory of her aunts, but it may also reflect her 2010 visit to Afghanistan to see family, when she met with many women to hear their stories of survival under the Taliban.

The colors and fabrics she remembers from bazaars in Kabul also populate her nonfigurative works such as Still Life with Kolache Abe-Dandan. These works are made by layering fabrics, and piecing and sewing them together. For Amiri, the act of sewing the variously sourced fabrics is a metaphor for uniting the fragmented identities of people who are forced to leave their homeland.

Art History: Narrative Textiles
Narrative fiber arts were highly developed in the ancient cultures of Central and South America, and throughout history have had a strong presence in the arts of Southeast Asia, Central Asia, and in the tapestries of Western Europe developed from the Gothic (ca. 1200–1400) through the Baroque (ca. 1600–1750) periods. Narrative textile arts appear in many forms in contemporary art, epitomized by American artists such as Bisa Butler (b. 1973) and Malawian artist Billie Zangewa (b. 1973).

Artist Bio
Amiri was born in a refugee camp in Peshawar, Pakistan, in 1989, after her family escaped the Afghan civil war. She spent most of her childhood in Afghanistan. When the Taliban took power in 1996, her family fled to Pakistan, then relocated to Tajikistan. In 2005, the family emigrated to Nova Scotia, Canada. Amiri received a bachelor’s in fine arts from Nova Scotia College of Art and Design University in Halifax (2012), and an MFA from Yale University in 2020. She lives and works in New Haven, Connecticut.

ARTIST Q&A
What are some of the biggest influences on your work?
Hangama Amiri: I enjoy reading about and seeing other artists’ work. Lately, I have been very inspired by Luchita Hurtado’s work and her way of lifestyle inspired by nature, by her surroundings, and by loved ones. You can see all these glimpses of life and beauty of nature in her paintings. She is a very fascinating individual.

I also enjoy reading theories, or reading in general, and I find it important to spend time with art-related works with critical voices. They help me to structure my ways of thinking and looking at certain themes. These days, I’m focusing on Handbook of Art and Global Migration edited by Burcu Dogramaci and Birgit Mersmann.

Staying active and learning in the arts community is important for me, too—going to openings, meeting people, or taking a day or two off from the studio and spending my time at museums and galleries. Since I live in New Haven, New York City is only a two-hour train ride away. That’s where I usually go on the weekends to spend some time catching up on art, attending artist talks, and even having good food and coffee with friends.

What is a typical workday like for you?
HA: During a production period, it’s usually very simple. Before heading down to my studio, which is only about a thirty-minute walk from my place, I like to grab my coffee and breakfast to start the day. I’m an early riser, and I make sure my workday in the studio starts at 8 a.m. I keep an 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. schedule, and sometimes it goes longer or shorter depending how much work I have to get done for the project. I try to keep it consistent but also flexible for other parts of my life.

Do you have specific strategies, rituals, or routines that help you work and/or generate ideas?
HA: Before starting a workday, I always make sure the space is clean and organized. Often when I make work with textiles and fabric, the studio can get very messy from cutting so many fabrics, papers, and other materials, so by the end of the day, I always tidy up for a clean space tomorrow. This routine also helps me relax and decompress. I have more room for breathing and happiness.

I also like to listen to podcasts when I work. It has become a part of my studio routine. I like starting the day by listening to the world news to keep up with what’s going on in the world, then I start different podcasts. My favorites are Talk Art, This American Life, The Moth, This Is Love, and Family Ghosts. Listening to them while working is a great joy for me; it keeps different spaces and lives outside of my studio in my mind while my body and hands are kept busy making the work. They help balance my mental wellness and creativity in the studio.

If you could go back in time, what advice would you give yourself as an emerging artist?
HA: My advice to myself as an emerging artist would be to never get comfortable in doing one thing repeatedly, and instead to embrace challenges. I would especially encourage myself to explore ideas that I find uncomfortable or difficult to express in my work.

I am sure everyone must hear this phrase a lot: “Accept failure.” Don’t be afraid of failing and starting over again, and don’t lose hope too soon. I would say, I was afraid of failing a lot—about my work, about not receiving certain grants or opportunities. But sometimes failing just meant I should change the way I think and try again. Some challenges are very difficult to take, but I am a hustler, so I would encourage myself to do it again, and apply again to those things that benefited my practice, such as certain residency programs and grants. It was a great lesson to learn for me as an artist, and I continue to take such challenges every day.

How would you suggest a young person experiment with new materials?
HA: It’s always good to learn about the material first. We live in a world with great technology where one can research and learn about everything on the internet. So go ahead—Google the material, read about its foundation, and learn how it is made. This is a good and easy way to start, and it could lead to answers to questions such as who practices with the material, why they use it, and how they use it.

Secondly, ask yourself why you came up with the idea or interest in using such a material. Will the material add to the work, and how? But you must try and experiment to find the answer for yourself. I encourage you to introduce yourself to new materials, find joy or even problems in the process, and see its relation to the other materials that you’re familiar with; play with them and see if youʼd like to continue experimenting further. It is always an exciting process!

How does the present situation in Afghanistan affect your reminiscences in your artworks?
HA: Being aware of the current situation in Afghanistan changes the focus in my practice.

In my recent and upcoming exhibitions and projects, I am much invested in thinking about domestic spaces and how they shape the lives of Afghan women. In my exhibition Shabe Kheena/Henna Night, the series explores women’s activity, communications, resilience, and celebration in domestic spaces. This perspective is often missing in people’s view since the stories from the domestic space and life are deemed as “less important” compared to the politically or socially charged spaces. Working in such themes brings a new lens and challenges to my own practice while I explore both sides of the picture, the private vs. the public, and how different stories take shape in these spaces.

Do you consider your art to be documenting the diaspora of the Afghan people?
HA: Part of my work does explore the diaspora experiences. Since I have been away for a very long time from Afghanistan, my everyday life is shaped by my everyday living environment in the US.

Do you intend your art to empower Afghan women in the face of the suppression they face in today’s Afghanistan?
HA: It is not so much about empowering, instead I tend to create spaces of support, community, and a platform for Afghan women and women in general who find themselves being heard through the power of visual art.

DISCUSSION
Introduce students to Amiri’s Eight Seated Women. Ask, “What do you notice about the women in this artwork?” Discuss the emotions, poses, clothing, and hairstyles of the women with special attention to clues that might tell the viewer what is happening in the image. Next, share Amiri’s background and history with the class, explaining that she hopes to focus on aspects of life in Afghanistan that are never seen in American news programs. Ask, “Are there aspects of your life or culture that are never shown on TV or in movies? How might you show them in an artwork?”

STUDIO EXPERIENCES

Experiment with embroidery techniques and textiles to create a representational artwork.
“Draw” a portrait of a family member, important person in your life, or role model using embroidery thread on canvas or fabric.
Create a realistic image using a variety of fabric scraps. How will the pieces of fabric you’ve chosen add to the design or influence the viewer’s emotions?
Create an artwork in the media of your choice that honors a quiet moment in your life, an aspect of your family heritage or culture, or makes a subtle statement about life in 2022.