Arash Fakhim

What triggered your affinity with art?

Well, I could start talking about how rich the Iranian culture is, but I partly grew up here in the West. This was accompanied by a form of rebellion against my parents and a rejection of what they grew up with. Although there was a Hafez poem hanging on the wall and Iranian music echoing through the walls of the living room, I could never really relate to my parents’ perception of the world. I was able to create my own universe by making sketches and drawings. My mother once aspired to be a drawing and painting teacher, but when she got me at a young age, pursuing this path was not an option any longer. As a little kid I noticed how proud she was when I once won a local drawing competition. She immediately cut out the newspaper clippings and still keeps and cherishes them today.

We understand that you’ve been to AkzoNobel before...

That's right, indeed. At a young age I was already inspired by design and images. I did this by drawing the things around me or wearing a visual language myself in the form of clothing. Clothing was a visual medium in my neighborhood and a perception of the world around us. We communicated with each other by means of codes, in order to belong. To pay for my clothing I had numerous jobs, including cleaning at AkzoNobel. I sometimes wondered if AkzoNobel's employees would notice whether I cleaned their table or not. I often experimented with that. I will never forget the scent of the Cup-a-Soup machine. On each floor I took one, against the rules; a different flavor every time. Once I reached the top I had four different kinds of soup and two warm chocolate milks. My main memory of AkzoNobel is the summer evening sun, an orange purple twilight - because this was my vacation job around the age of 14 - that shined through the large office windows, along with the smell of cleaning agent and Cup-a-Soup.

In addition to your own practice, are you also involved with art or the image culture in other ways?

I carry out art on as many fronts as possible: whether it is reflected in how I stand in life, how I dress, talk or work in my studio. I like to spar with my friends and acquaintances who are very inspiring on the fronts of music, fashion and the arts and who look for different ways to exhibit works in unusual situations. Just like in my own practice, where I try to offer a counterweight to the status quo, I hope to do the same with my role as a compiler. I consciously call this compiler (of things) because the word curator or curate reminds me of a Thai curry which is certainly good, probably even better. Yet I don't like the hierarchy that echoes within the word. In the coming period, in addition to my own practice, I will focus more on setting up platforms and shows where these situations come together. Because this is a part that I experience as exciting and in which I can bring about things through presentation or visual dialogue.

Where can we find these compilations of yours?

Lucky you! You get the very first scoop! The first physical expression as a compiler will take place on 14 December 2019 at No Man’s Art Gallery in Amsterdam, where I will furnish one of the rooms with works from my artist-colleagues. This show will take place simultaneously with my very first solo in the downstairs room at NMAG. The group show is called 'Sofreh' and is loosely based on the Iranian cultural significance. In Farsi 'Sofreh' stands for a spread on which objects are collected and on which guests eat. In this metaphor, I found a way to put things together and offer new dialogue. I do this with works by Bonno van Doorn, Niko Démoed, Gijs Assmann, Mischa Doorenweerd, Daan Gielis, Maurice Gobert, Lisette van Hoogenhuyze, Bas van den Hurk, Susanne Khalil Yusefi, Anastasia Kiseleva, Gijs van Lith, Hemaseh Manawi Rad, Golrokh Nafisi, Ulrike Rehm, Niko Riedinger, Maria Roosen and Manon Wertenbroek. I sometimes call this my artist family because I know most of them personally. This involvement with the artist and the work allows me to expand my playing field very much. It happens with trust and a certain mutual respect so that I can get a ‘carte-blanche’. I think the essence of compiling is to leave the context for what it is but create a new perspective in which the works can be seen.

Can you tell what your practice focuses on?

My own practice does not focus so much on one thing but focuses on processes and actions in which objects are made or put into operation to produce images. This sounds pretty abstract and arbitrary and I have to say, that might be true. After all, it’s a visual process in which words often fall short, which is why I focus on actions and traces that actions leave behind when creating my work.

In addition, the juxtaposition and alienation of a composition provides a new dialogue that couldn’t have been conceived in advance. When I compile a show, I often try to pay attention to the dialogues that the work forms in combination with others. Whether these are works by other artists or existing artifacts. In that sense I do not think that I compile a completely different parameter than when I am making my own images in my own studio.

Can you elaborate on your fascinations with these processes and activities that take place in your studio?

I try to focus on issues that interest me, where pictorial effects such as tactility and the plastic ability to propagate the image. In my practice I try to identify these issues by creating situations where these issues come together in one image. For example: I wonder how you can materialize and capture intangible things like blowing out smoke rings in an image. Another recurring theme in my practice is the will to clash with the imposed rules of the medium of painting and its spatial dimensions that are crucial characteristics of painting.

And finally, do you collect yourself? What is on your wish list?

As an artist, I unfortunately don’t have the financial means yet to support my artist colleagues. Like many artists, I try to trade with my colleagues. If I notice that I believe in someone and their work, I admire it even more. If I ever get the opportunity to buy something, my first real purchase would undoubtedly go to the drawing Tupac Amaru Shakur made from prison in 1995 for his then girlfriend Desiree Smith. The depiction of Tupac in his cell where his freedom was taken away from him, drawing to declare his love for her in those circumstances, does not leave me unmoved. That said, I like it when artists find solutions and then playfully indicate them. You can see that in how he has emphasized the drops of sweat on their bodies.