Amir H. Fallah’s ‘Make it Believe’ at The Third Line - May 2009
By Jyoti Dhar
Part of a growing generation of cultural hybrids, Amir H. Fallah is enjoying the benefits of being marketed as a ‘Middle-Eastern artist.’ Originally recognized on the Los Angeles art scene as a graffiti artist, his work has most recently been showcased at the Sharjah Biennial 9 and Art Dubai. Through the reverse perspective of an Iranian-artist born, raised, and established in California, he explores notions of home and memory with reference to his Middle-Eastern origins.
Fallah is known for constructing ‘forts’ or safe havens, which resemble nomadic Middle-Eastern tents, contrastingly made up of modern-day Western furnishings. In a previous series of paintings shown in 2006, he took these fantasy playhouses and placed them in various surreal settings. His latest solo show, entitled Make It Believe, is a psychedelic, unhinged progression from these previous works, yet still reminiscent of those original structures.
In fact, the gallery is full of paintings of fabricated ‘forts,’ as well as tables with vases, strongly evocative of traditional ‘still-life’ set-ups. Not so conventional, however, is the artist’s use of a neon palette, pop memorabilia, and wild flora including vivid cacti and mushrooms. The Ultimate Mom Painting, for example, shows that Fallah continues to question the institutionalization of art within prescriptive frameworks. Even the piped borders of his paintings can’t seem to conform; they appear to be ripping themselves away from the edges of the canvas.
The only reminder of Fallah’s Californian-street-art background is the painted mural of child-like faces and teardrops set as a backdrop to two of his works. While this and his multi-media paintings cross boundaries between spatial planes, one cannot but help feel that much of this new series would have worked more effectively as installations (such as the one recently shown at the Sharjah Biennial.) With this in mind, one looks forward to Fallah’s combining his mature concepts with more liberating media.
The Saddest, Saddest, Saddest love song ever was an exception to this, as it worked very effectively both as a painting and a memorial. Photographic cutouts of Neil Morrissey dancing in a fluorescent pink shirt, Daniel Johnston indifferently smoking a cigarette, and Elliot Smith (who later killed himself) bemusedly holding an umbrella fill the canvas. Whilst being a personal tribute to an assortment of depressive 1980s’ music icons, it manages to retain elements of Fallah’s boyhood humor by the inclusion of his recurring motifs of impish faces, wild flowers, and splashes of paint.
It is clear that this series is more shrine-like than shelter-like and serves as emblems of fragmented memory. Whereas his earlier constructions were symbolic of giving refuge, these images seem to be of erratically assembled structures, made up of leftover building materials, supportive of only a bizarre collection of objects. I put you on a pedestal 7 is one such composition depicting wood, slate, and metal materials holding up potted plants with flaccid flowers and bare branches.
Perhaps these precariously preserved relics are a reflection of Fallah’s increasing separation from his heritage, heightened when exhibiting in the Middle East. One hopes that he will continue to explore these challenging issues whilst maintaining his youthful outlook and innovative approach.
Reprinted with kind permission of Asian Art News. Copyright (c) Asian Art Press (International) Limited 2009.
