Integration Biographies Networks

I was immediately drawn to Diedrick Brackens' carpets. Having grown up in Istanbul, our Turkish carpets are not woven but knotted. Yet, the expensive, exquisite ones are just as thin as these woven ones. Equally beautiful!! Each carpet tells a story, unfortunately only a few can read them here. These carpets are also music – I can hear them well. I've taken a lot of women to the museum, who thought beforehand, as I did, that they had more important things to do and what does it mean anyway. But when I explained to them, what I had learnt, these women all found something in their minds, art heals so much.

So again, I come from Istanbul, I can also say, from the golden Byzantium – doesn't that sound good? My own story is almost like back then: 
For example: Emperor Otto the first wanted to marry off his son well and sent an ambassador to Byzantium to do so. The emperor there, Nikephoros Phokas, who saw himself as the only true emperor, had nothing but derision for him. He laughed at the ambassador and humiliated him wherever he could. But Otto did not give up. The next emperor in Byzantium finally sent him his niece Theophanu to the German Empire for his son Otto II.

I was sent to Austria at the age of 14. My husband also waited for me here. I hope for Theophanu that Adelheid has learned more from her own youth and was nicer to her than my mother-in-law. But Theophanu was an incredibly strong woman. Within my limits, I follow her example. At first, I did this in my small private environment. After difficult years spent learning, I expanded my circle and joined women who had a similar story and just as much strength. Now I work with great joy in a women's collective. For the empowerment of women, for education, democracy, and equality.

I came to realize that the culture in my country – even if the political situation, has become more difficult – was much older, much more thoughtful, and simply more civilised. People who say they are a "resident" in Vienna and their freedom is in danger due to migration are not civilized. I have experienced a lot of rejection, mistrust, humiliation, and exclusion. As long as I showed my hair, they were too black, since I wear a hijab, it's too colourful. Our women's collective advocates for an open relationship between cultures; we want a new social contract. A contract that is negotiable. A contract that allows for the inclusion of new topics and the exclusion of old ones. Content should be discussed by everyone, not intimidated by a few outsiders. We weave cultures together like Brackens weaves his carpets.

That's art! Art for Austria.
 

I grew up in Isfahan, an incredibly beautiful city with many museums and amazing landmarks. Unfortunately, after the Islamic Revolution of 1979, the Islamic government forcefully imposed new values and moral standards. I grew up during this time and during the first Gulf War–unfortunately there was no time and no sense for museums back then. That was my childhood and youth, I think I missed out on quite a lot.

In 2008, my family and I fled Iran seeking freedom and equality. However, in Vienna, I struggled to feel properly represented. Despite my efforts to adapt, it was difficult to see that my Persian culture wasn't fully appreciated here.

Two years ago, I finally found a women's collective here in Vienna. We work for the equality and participation of all people in this city—art plays a significant role in our work.

I'm very pleased about this exhibition here. We've been collaborating with this museum for a long time and have learned that art, through good explanation and by looking at it for a long time, can articulate things that were previously unthinkable. A woman once told me that after my tour at the museum, she felt very tired and thoughtful. Whenever she feels tired, she knows that she will learn something from it.

Through art, people can realize their thoughts and fantasies. It can provide solace. I believe art unites people across different cultures and time periods. It doesn't require language. In this exhibition, contemporary artists have come together with old artists, speaking through them. That's beautiful!

I'm thrilled that Tagore has a prominent place here; I admire his stories. I appreciate the approach of Atul Dodiya and the Otolith Group because they address issues like new nationalism and the instrumentalization of religion for power—issues we suffered from in Iran. However, I don't quite understand what Gandhi has to do with conceptual art. He aimed to change tangible realities; he wasn't just about concepts and ideas, right?

The women we brought here were deeply engaged with the meaning of life. They wondered if they really wanted to spend their entire lives in the kitchen and with children just because that's how it is at home. They engaged with their feelings, something they rarely do in daily life. Then they started to listen to their feelings and needs, to feel them and draw them. Some feelings were taboo, but they dared to draw them. They learned that art shows them the way to express themselves and connect with others.

Tagore's theme of the significance of the present in the future deeply touched me. We constantly ponder how we can at least become a footnote in history. If we can continue to intertwine art and social activism so well, perhaps we'll be rewarded with a footnote in the future.

Tagore will surely live forever. He lived in a strong country. It reminds me: the first major rebellion against the East India Company in 1857 is often described, yet everywhere you read, it's only about fighting men. Lakshmibai was the princess of the last resisting dynasty against the British. She led the battles, was brave, wise, educated, and cunning. With a fair distribution of weapons, she would have surely won. She is one of my heroines.

As a playful counterpoint, there was a football match just before World War I in Calcutta where Indians played barefoot and won against the arrogant British, who never expected it and were completely devastated.

I would have loved to be at that joyous festival! Yet, 1 million Indians had to enlist for the British in World War I—how absurd.

Certainly, many such examples can be found. I'm very glad that I can fight for freedom alongside other women and look forward to the day when I can travel to Isfahan to my family without fear.


 

Art plays a central role in shaping our identity and our perception of the world. Art plays a big role for me. As a woman with a history of migration who lives in Austria, I often don't find a personal connection to exhibitions here, which is why I've been looking forward to this one for a long time. European art is usually only shown in a very representative way, and I ask myself how I can develop an interest in art with my cultural identity. I would also like to try to describe how art can serve not only as a means of expression, but also as a form of resistance against cultural assimilation and preservation of one's own cultural identity, especially for people like me who have a history of migration.

Colonization has meant that I and many others cannot relate to art. When I think of art, European artists and artworks immediately come to mind. Yet I come from Africa, specifically Somalia, and I often don't feel like I am the target group of the Eurocentric art canon. People who look like me were and are often depicted in a dehumanizing way or don't even appear that way. On top of that, you must have a passion and a strong knowledge of art and art history to know African art. Due to centuries of oppression and the gagging of African art and in the Western art canon, the normal art consumer who is not particularly well-read on the subject will not engage with it.

The question arises, how is this possible? In every case of colonization throughout history, the art and language of the land were the first aspects of culture to be attacked and banned. Because, when these aspects of a society are ruined, the very thing that brings people together is eliminated and with it what people fight to preserve – their identity and history. It is often art, traditions and culture that connect us with our past and our ancestors, where we can develop fantasies, release grief or anger, and reflect on identity crises. This applies to every branch of art.

But for me, art is also a possibility and a form of resistance for marginalized groups. A good example of this is how African Americans use music as a powerful form of art to preserve and celebrate their African roots. Hip-hop, reggae, blues, jazz and rock 'n' roll have African influences through rhythm and flow. This helps a group of people who have been separated from their homeland in Africa for more than 400 years to still connect with their roots. In addition, the spirit of resistance can be seen in various forms of art by African Americans, such as the paintings of Ernie Barnes, which often depict joyful dancing and playing Black people. These artworks date back to the era of segregation, which was associated with little joy for Black people. Nevertheless, Barnes' goal was to show the humanity and lightness of African Americans in the midst of oppression.

Another example of resistance is one of Africa's most important writers and directors: Ousmane Sembène from Senegal, who is considered the “father” of African cinema. His films deal with important social and political issues in post-colonial Africa. Just as an example: “Mandabi” is great, funny and clever. When asked in an interview whether his films would be understood in Europe, he replied: “Europe is not my center. Europe is not the periphery of Africa. They (the Europeans) stayed in my country for over 100 years and didn't speak my language, I speak their language. For me, the future does not depend on whether I am understood by Europe. I would like them to understand me, but it means nothing to me...... Why do you want me to be like the sunflower circling around the sun? I am the sun myself.”  This is one of the most beautiful visualizations of “decenter white”.

Regarding these reflections on the importance of art as a form of resistance and as a means of preserving cultural identity, I would like to emphasize that art is a powerful way to strengthen togetherness and raise the voices of marginalized groups. As we grapple with the challenges of oppression, art and culture remind us of who we are, where we come from and what we stand for. It is my hope that this dialogue about art and resistance will help build bridges and foster understanding as we work together to shape a future characterized by diversity and inclusion. To this end, I have joined an international women's collective here in Vienna. We work for socially excluded and isolated families from five different language groups. Participation in social, economic, ecological and cultural matters is what we see as the goal of a society. A very important tool in our daily work is the mediation of art, which, as I mentioned at the beginning, can trigger, heal and move so much in every person. The people at mumok have been incredibly valuable cooperation partners for us for years.