curated by Elmgreen & Dragset
Istanbul Museum of Modern Art
Meclis-i Mebusan Cad. Liman İşletmeleri
Sahası Antrepo No: 4, 34433 Karaköy - İSTANBUL
PIZZICATOMirak JamalMohsen Jamal@ The Loon227 Sterling Road, Unit 109a,Toronto
Wednesday, May 24th from 6 to 9 pm
The Stillness of a Departure
Mirak Jamal, Anna Ročňová, Sung Tieu
curated by Christina Gigliotti
(in the yard)
Galerie Sultana @ Independent Brussels
Vanderborght BuildingSchildknaapstraat50, rue de l'Ecuyer, 1000 BruxellesPrivate viewing (by invitation) Wednesday April 19, 2017April 20- 2312 - 7 pm admission is free and open to the publicwithJustin FitzpatrickMirak JamalOlivier MillagouSally Ross
- cornered -
“A large acute triangle divided into unequal segments, the narrowest one pointing upwards, is a schematically correct representation of spiritual life. The lower the segment the larger, wider, higher, and more embracing will be the other parts of the triangle.
The entire triangle moves slowly, almost invisible, forward and upward and where the apex was "today," the second segment is going to be "tomorrow," that is to say, that which today can be understood only by the apex, and which to the rest of the triangle seems an incomprehensible gibberish, tomorrow forms the true and sensitive life of the second segment.”
Kandinsky, Wassily. On The Spiritual In Art (1910)
30.03. - 3.05.2017.
as part of the installation by Christopher Kulendran Thomas:
moving is in every direction.
Environments – Installations – Narrative Spaces
17.03.2017 to 17.09.2017
Hamburger Bahnhof - Museum für Gegenwart - Berlin
The exhibition “moving is in every direction. Environments – Installations – Narrative Spaces” traces the history of installation art from the 1960s until today with a focus on narrative structures. As the visitors move through the exhibition, they explore expansive walk-in environments, video and sound installations, as well as cross-media works especially developed for the exhibition. The non-linear narrative structure, put forth by Gertrude Stein, to which the exhibition title relates, serves as a starting point for exploring sculptural arrangements, image sequences, or spatially staged narratives. Within the approximately 3,500 square metres of exhibition space, there are installations by Joseph Beuys, Marcel Broodthaers, Peter Fischli/David Weiss, Isa Genzken/Wolfgang Tillmans, Bruce Nauman, Susan Philipsz, Pipilotti Rist, Bunny Rogers, Gregor Schneider, Thomas Schütte, Christopher Kulendran Thomas, and Wolf Vostell.
Nada Miami, Dec 1st-4th, 2016
with Galerie Sultana
Stoneroses #6 - WAY OUTas part of Manifesta11
Thursday, August 25, 2016 - 21:30Cabaret der Künstler – Zunfthaus VoltaireSpiegelgasse 1Zürich 8001
with contributions by
Louisa Gagliardi & Adam Cruces
Adrian Manuel Huber
Stoneroses is a project by Mirak Jamal and Santiago Taccetti
the show takes place in the surrounding of Riverside
join us for one of the tours
4 PM - Back around 6
4 PM - Back around 6
STONEROSES # 4
hosted by Minibar
in Vårberg, Skärholmen, Stockholm
Minibar is delighted to host Stoneroses for a temporal consideration of an area scouted for its features of equal parts composited and of un-composited concrete. Seen as a sequential production set amidst a landscape with few walls to lean against—rather, slanted pedestals, soil-seeped and water-leaked grounds—Stoneroses contaminates the scenography with the noted absence of the romanticism of naturalism. Instead, a setting with scenarios to be attended and attested, of wormholes of leaking materials to be inhabited, is painted against the backdrop of the highest natural point of Stockholm. An artificial high built from the excavation spoils of the Stockholm Metro, a vestige of the Million Program implemented under the Social Democratic regime between 1965–74. Neolithic finds are found lurking beneath: a lake and an island, dirt bikes paving the ways for crowds to embark on. Stoneroses invites us to the scene, arresting both each others’ and other's presences.
As much as the gallery encapsulates a set of norms, the outside implies gestures. And so the balance between foreground and background becomes an inversion of sentences, vocabularies, vernaculars. The gallery becomes a placeholder for a map indicating gestures being activated at a different location.
A visual host for a process being leveled elsewhere, reducing and adding an impossible equation. A series of posters line the walls of Minibar as placeholders eventually to be filled with remnants. We encourage you to meet us at Vårberg Station (at one or both of the dates listed below) for a guided tour of the exhibition.
✿ Saturday, July 23
Meet at 15:00, tour starts at 15:30
✿ Sunday, July 24
Meet at 17:00, tour starts at 17:30
@ Vårberg T-bana, Stockholm
✿ The walk will be approximately two hours long. ✿
Suggestion: bring water and snacks
Feel free to bring swimming clothes and goggles
Stoneroses is Mirak Jamal and Santiago Taccetti
Minibar is Malin Henningsson, Aron Kullander-Östling, Sofia M. Westin, Anna Sagström, and Matilda Tjäder.
The project is supported by Swiss Arts Council Pro Helvetia. Minibar is run with support from Stockholm stad and Kulturrådet.
"Mirak Djamal IRONIMUS '91"
Opening: April 30th, 2016 | 19 h
GALERIE | ROLANDO ANSELMI
Winsstrasse 72, 10405 Berlin
Galerie Rolando Anselmi is pleased to present “Mirak Djamal IRONIMUS '91”, a solo exhibition by Mirak Jamal. The exhibition takes its title from a drawing made in Cologne, Germany – the artist's childhood residence of the time. At the gallery space Jamal will present a site-specific accumulation of works allowing us to enter a new imaginary terrain revolving around a revisitation of an old drawing.
In 1991, the parents of the artist would encourage the pre-teen artist to enter a drawing into a caricature contest in Würzburg, Germany titled “IRONIMUS '91”. Having made it into the selection, the work became published in a German caricature journal in company of adult satirists and political caricaturists. The stylized drawing, titled “Cool”, depicts a seemingly romanticized alleyway – undoubtedly inspired by cartoons and his familiar surroundings in Cologne, Germany.
Using this drawing as an entry point, Jamal navigates between the factual and fictitious - at once excavating and proposing anew. Utilitarian materials such as drywall panels, wood, mattress foam, and steel sheets, are transformed into objects of undeterred idealism bearing amplified figures, automotive gradients, sensitive machine carvings, and photographic anecdotes. Interior and exterior worlds are then reconciled through fractures of a strong personal past, and a surreal and yet familiar contemporary experience.
If you only had to pic just one image from an entire two-hour movie. Moving pictures are a peculiar one. WHERE TO STOP/WHERE TO STEP IMAGES MOVING in from here we begin. THIS NEUKOELLN SATIRICAL the parade that has shaped this old man masquerade. AT LAST OF AGE on skin he bears this at the least, smoothly. THE STREET CODE CLOSE TO THE PULSE GUTTER ON HIS ARM SUNG HEROES folk ones too he came to look up upon, the whole colorful lot. THE STORY: 1991 COLOGNE GERMANY. Someone once said that idealism is for the young, romanticism for the old. BELT AND STRAP BEHOLD dust deceits THIS IS MOVING FRESH IN INK IN flesh in decomposed postures, noses longer than average. HARSH LIGHT DIMMED LIGHT LIGHT A STAGE what cast, what CHARACTERS SHADOWY FIGURES BY THE ALLEYWAY AT THE POST BY THE BENCH YOUR VERY GROCERY STORE. The street lamp points bent backwards towards that which is then, and a house plant is attracted to the moon. Standing in form this FAMILIAR PLACE ITS SMASHED WINDOWS WITHIN SIGHT LAPTOP GREYS UP ABOVE AND SHIT LIL INSECTS TO GRACE THIS SOLE of the dragging, my pants sagging though I should have grown out of that by now. REPETITION AND RHYME repeats and resilience. The train trembles these insects I speak of, they are ancient and learned men WE HAVE DRAGGED MANY MANY WE HAVE SHARED PATHS WITH shared interests even. SECRET TALES BEHIND THIN VEILS. Do you see these city emblems on my back? SO MANY HOW MANY STEPS FORWARD TO CONNECT THE DOTS THE STUDS on this belt, the medallion on this beer. Insanity is the cure I STUTTER THIS THREAD threatening between what’s what and what’s not. MOVING IMAGES ARE DIFFICULT WHAT IS THAT danger at close range illuminating the colony. CONCRETE REALISM he ass grabs gently, though persistent THROUGH THE NEBULOUS DESERT TREADING. So innocent then. So dumb now. THE RETURN you may call it PART II, though some claim never to have been there. We have been here, I am not crazy. THE SOFT SPOKEN WALL THE PAVEMENT LITTLE PEBBLES PRESSED TO IMPRESS CRAPPY PEBBLES THE LAYERED BRICKS THE MANY WALKS we have been cursed many times, spat upon by regulars we are blessed to stand here. The weather has been grey mostly, the forecast is just as good, yeah. I prefer dimmed light anyway. The stage: FACES FISTS FACES FISTS SOME COLOR the audience demands, and all that JAZZ TO THE BEAT THE STORIED FISTS in the gravel in the air, the stink here, still, ah this Berlin air, hovering forever. 2016 FAMILIARITY HMM THIS WE DREAM WE CAN ONLY DREAM and are awakened by a cousin: THE GRADIENT. Of speed and bullied cars, laughed at, the gloss paint job on this flesh, I carry it. It flashes. Even when I lay. YOU CAN'T SEE ME but I carry it within. HUMBLED MACHINE OWNERS SPEED clumsily SPEED proceed MOMENTS THEY MELT CARS CRASH BUT here we go engraved at a standstill STOP. They do mark speed limits after all. The shimmer I can only wear it with insecurity, I have to, I transverse with it in camouflage. But to resist is another case. I haven't adapted fully. I have not grown that much, yet. You won't find beans in my house, I walk out to get my coffee. THEY STAY WE MOVE THEY SAY the first cave carvings were meant to be animations anyway. And this breeze lies beneath the skin. YES A PATINA OF CRUMBS THESE DAILY STREET RITUALS AS WALKED BY the boy THE NOWMAN, still ape though: NOW the paradoxical twist...a phone rings from an old acquaintance KÖLLE ALAAF THESE PEOPLE I LOOK AROUND I SEE I HEAR THESE STORIES BURIED BENEATH these boots, the cobblestones are the whispers of predecessors, and they've been trampled to a flat museum. Below that, who knows really. CONFETTI REMAINS ON FLOOR MOSTLY candy is abundant in the air though nobody is looking, unless it hits. I have stayed low key all along, bowed I look at you below HEY I’m crawling too I plead, eye level at low, I've been here too though chose to look ahead some few stories ago...beyond, I see these images flashing.
April 1 - April 30, 2016
Opening Reception: Friday April 1, 2016 / 6 – 8pm.
1134 Dupont St., Toronto, Ontario M6H 2A2
IN PRAISE OF LIMESTONE
March 12, 2016
Via P.pe di San Giuseppe 14
Mother! Minsk! Where are you!
Friday, Feb. 19th 18-20h — 16 Apr 2016
10 rue Ramponeau
“What does the lady in the room point towards?”
“What does she want us to know?”
“What is in her shelf, and who is she?”
The preface to this exhibition lies in a drawing titled “Lady at the Dinner Table”, explains our gallery host Guillaume Sultana to us. Made by the artist as a boy in his formative years, it is one of the many works as collected by his mother. Having to flee the chaos of a post-revolutionary Iran, the family had settled in the Soviet Union in the early 1980's, housed at an apartment complex stacked one floor on another in the fellowship of leftist Iranian émigrés. During these years Mirak Jamal first started to draw – his imagination fueled by folkloric tales, funny and horrific things, war stuff on Soviet television, as well as inspiration from his immediate surroundings; namely the living room and kitchen. The collection of these drawings would later accompany the family's migrations further West.
In Paris, we have in front of us one of these drawn impressions attributed to that period, allowing us to zoom in on the exhibition “Mother! Minsk! Where are you!” We enter the space and immediately find “Lady at the Dinner Table” – a yellowed drawing, weightless but framed to protect against overexposure, and time. It is a piece executed by the artist as a five-year old in Minsk, we are told. We can confirm a miniature world wherein an undisputed figure reigns. She faces us reassured, aristocratic, wearing a committed hat and an elaborate dress which drapes downward. The clock looms as if she had been waiting for our arrival all along (since 1985 to be precise). Her right arm points towards some dinner-time inevitables: a table, one chair, a samovar, a bowl of fruits, and a couple other indistinguishable doodles...we summon a wholesome composition in an admirable setting.
From there we are pulled towards a corresponding wall with multiple drywall plates making up a mural. Here, the aristocrat hovers at about four meters tall. We note a fragmented constellation of colors, bearing across the brunt of a prevailing mastermind. The lady of the house has been transcribed in a version that the artist, now surely matured and mindful, has redeemed himself with a large format. The deliberate cuts are crude, and arbitrary machine carvings into the plaster make up a motored re-iteration. She stands unforgiving, and behind the depicted sternness (perhaps not a portrayal of a mother but the artist himself under the cloak?) we sense a smirk of self-gratulation.
“Who is she!”
“Where is the artist anyhow?”
A more acute consideration of the individual plates betrays interwoven realities and timelines. Readily googled images and personal snapshots from the artist's Instagram account invite us into chambers (the exhibition blurb reveals a print transfer technique); we are pulled underwater, through ephemeral cloud clusters, towards a blinding sun, and graze with the fingertips of a crosshatched Dürer over a certain nothing. We have seemingly arrived at the mercy of a desert, and are left with only our lady for guidance. But who is behind her? The wagger of the finger has helped us navigate within this (his, the little boy's)world just as it has coincidentally shown us out of it – piercing through the dining room, and beyond the hermetics of the picture plane towards something more imminent. One can only bargain for an imagined door at this juncture (a giant window stands here instead). I suggest to take the offer. We leave the city limits of Minsk to congregate towards that which is the visceral pull of this semi-cold February awaiting us on the outside...
"Black Hole Sun"
Friday Feb. 5th, 2016 @ 7pm
227 Sterling Road Lofts, unit 109a
MIRAK JAMAL"my dear friends in Berlin"Opening January 30, 6–10PMOranienstrasse 3710999 BerlinA part of the exhibitions series Intercalating the drift(with George Rippon and Michele Di Menna)January – March 2016
Saturday, the 14th of November
7pm - 10pm
227 Sterling Road, Unit 109a
BRUSSELS, OCT. 29TH, 2015
29.10.2015 - 05.12.2015
67 Rue De La Regence, Brussels 1000, Belgium
On a peculiar family voyage in 1987 between Römerberg, Germany and Lille, France the artist, then a young man, would come across a book at a rest stop. He would keep this book, and read through its collection of stories for some years. However, in 1994 he would lose this book amidst a rushed move to the U.S. Below is one of the stories as remembered by the artist, which its title and author now slips his memory. In his own words he recalls:
Our story's main subject I do not recall by name, therefore for the sake of the story allow me to name him “Frank”. “Frank” resented the fact he had to wake up in the bright morning hours. As for him the breakfast was served a little too early. Having to be transported to “the lobby” each day a good punctual hour-and-a-half before the rest of the town would devastate his schedule from thereon, and so paint him as distinct. From the pre-meal unease, to the long hours thereafter perusing at the cafe to his pronounced late cappuccinos...skimming from one daily paper to the next in four different languages, his individualism would let him to pace around arrogantly alone. But as the food taster he bowed to the routine, having faced a one-fold predicament: the chance of death vs. the certainty of it. Essentially, he was left with no choice but to submit to the seductive cuisine of the court, and his tastings for breakfast volunteered into full midday lunches. Soon a chair became well reserved for him, and an embroidered pillow with his initials would earn him a comfortable nestling of the buttocks. He would learn to sit stiff-straight to take on a proper dining etiquette, and inhale in all matters; spoon by careful spoon, and from a silky soup to the main course consisting of boar meat, and on to the much honeyed dessert accompanied by bittersweet gossip. The array of meals were fantastic. This reflected in his calmed skin, and the town would resent him for that.
Over time and as the skepticism towards our subject grew evermore present, and as the whispers traveled louder through the corridors, alleys and hills, so would his creeping distaste with the meal itself. A culture of fear foamed in his cheek...death herself rested gently in waiting on the tongue. This informed his palette, and the cinnamon would turn bitter, the caviar would taste like coal, and all raisins were chewed into sugar-free gums. Back home “Frank” would befall to the outer edges of his own community to find himself with the ilk of the town eunuchs, musicians, clowns and whores, squeegee kids, entertainers. A peasant at court, a truer peasant at home. He was shamefully cast second to king. And the risk of crumbling over the table to a coughing pool of red was imminent...but I GUESS THE COURT’S FOOD TASTER MUST HAVE AT LEAST ENJOYED HIS WINE (ha!). It was renowned in those lands, and none of his fellows would come close to tasting the flow of this sweet grape they picked the hills so hard for. I cannot recall now if the food taster survived the meals in the end, but I find this to be secondary.
Also worthy to note, back in 1385 the much feared Timurid army which had penetrated from the steppes of Central Asia would pillage through the fair town of Esfezar, and cement the last surviving citizens into the city walls alive. This forewarning would haunt the Iranian imagination for centuries.
Some of the titles I considered for this show:
I GUESS THE COURT’S FOOD TASTER MUST HAVE AT LEAST ENJOYED HIS WINE..
A DOMESTIC EXERCISE
A GOOD EXERCISE
THE FOOD TASTER AND THE KING’S GOOD WINE
SECOND TO KING
THE MANY VIEWS OF THE GUEST
THE VIEWS OF THE GUEST ARE TOO SAD!!
1857 is at Paris Internationale with a presentation of Jennie Hagevik Bringaker & Erlend Hogstad and Mirak Jamal from October 20–24.
45, Avenue d'Iéna
A SOFT TRAGEDY
August 16, 2015
A spatial storytelling project by Lorenzo Sandoval
with contributions from:
Olga Balema, Patrick Burkhardt, Pieterjan Gandry,
Ethan Hayes-Chute, John Holten, Mirak Jamal,
Valentina Karga, Hanne Lippard, Dafna Maimon,
Michele Di Menna, Antoine Renard,
Santiago Taccetti, Clémence de La Tour du Pin,
Alex Turgeon and Elvia Wilk.
This is an off-site project developed with TIER (The Institute for Endotic Research) as part of the Project Space Festival Berlin. A map and schedule will be made public in the weeks preceding the event.
KINDERHOOK & CARACAS
Open Saturday 2-6pm
and by appointment.
ALL FLESH IS GRASS, AND ALL IT'S
BEAUTY IS LIKE THE FLOWER OF THE FIELD
Thursday at 19h
Zossenerstrasse 41, Hinterhof
Berlin Community Radio
Sunday, June 28th
meet at 13:30, first tour at 14:00, second tour at 17:00
@ Sandgrube im Jagen 86, 14193 Berlin
a project by Santiago Taccetti & Mirak Jamal
Ragna Bley, Magni Borgehed, Hi-5, Tom Humphreys, Mirak Jamal, Carl Mannov
For "Omelette" 1857 moves into the territoire of painting at full throttle, and for once with the bulk of the artists sprung from the local scene. But what is left of the nnn when the nn is in exchange with the nnnnn?
05/06 – 16/08/2015
Preview: Friday 05/06 19:00
0188 Oslo, Norway
organized by Emma Hazen
Gallery hours are Saturday-Sun from 12-5pm or by appointment.
788 Woodward Ave
Queens, NY 11385
WINDOWLICKEROpening April 297-11PMExhibition April 30-June 14, 2015PAUL BARSCH ⩙ IVANA BASIC ⩙ GREGOIRE BLUNT ⩙ CLEMENCE DE LA TOUR DU PIN ⩙ ANNE FELLNER ⩙ NAOMI FISHER ⩙ DOROTA GAWEDA ⩙ HANNAH HEILMANN ⩙ MIRAK JAMAL ⩙ ILJA KARILAMPI ⩙ SANDRA VAKA OLSEN ⩙ SANTIAGO TACCETTI ⩙ SHAUN MOTSI ⩙ ANTOINE RENARD ⩙ MAX RUF ⩙ ANTHONY SALVADOR ⩙ YVES SCHERER ⩙ EDWARD SHENK ⩙ EMMY SKENSVED ⩙ TORE WALLERT
Sunday, February 22
meet at 13:00, tour starts at 13:30
@ Sandgrube im Jagen 86, 14193 Berlin
a project by Santiago Taccetti & Mirak Jamal
AN ACCOUNT OF DISCOVERY AND WONDER
Francis Alÿs, Alan Bean, Elaine Cameron-Weir, Mirak Jamal, Sean Landers and
J. Parker Valentine. With a collection of objects curated by Markus Li Stensrud.
13/02 – 22/03/2015
Preview: Friday 13/02 19:00
0188 Oslo, Norway
Sandra Vaka Olsen
a project by Santiago Taccetti and Mirak Jamal
Hey, and then there is the human experience: the making of, the instalment, the break-and-enter…the seizure by police and park control. Cat 'n mouse.
How about there, it is potentially green it is potentially grey, potentially nada. And we can potentially vandalize anywhere….this is great!
26 August 2-8pm
Off site event hosted by Center @ Sandgrube im Jagen 86, 14193 Berlin - S7 Berlin-Grunewald.
Guided tours will be held throughout the day
In the frame of www.projectspacefestival-berlin.com
Vidal & Groth
curated by Didem Yazici
Sa. 19.04.2014, 20-01.00 Uhr/ 8pm-1am
07.03.14Mirak Jamal / Scott Rogers
Text: Inger Wold LundCenterKurfürstenstrasse 174,10785 BerlinOrganized by http://coeval.gen.in/
Opening: September 18, 6-11pm
@ ‘ZweiDrei’ Gitschiner Straße 20
18 – 21 September 2013
1PM – Nautical Dusk + daily bar until 11PM
Harm van den Dorpel
Adriana Blidaru, Anna Frost,
Ché Zara Blomfield, Elena Gilbert
+ James Michael Shaeffer, Jr.
Kinderhook & Caracas presents 'early works', an exhibition comprised of a selection of childhood drawings made between 1983-86 in Minsk, USSR. Collected by Jamal's mother throughout his upbringing, the complete set of drawings numbers into the hundreds and was compiled across several countries to which the family had relocated after leaving post-revolutionary Iran.
Opening September 13, 2013 6-9pm
Exhibition runs from September 13 - October 10.
Open Fr & Sa 2-6pm
and by appointment.