Here Beyond
March 2019, Kuala Lumpur
Text by Tan Jun E
Here Beyond reflects Komeil’s growth as an artist. From a boy growing up in Iran enjoying painting to where he is now, his journey continues with the same sense of purpose. Being here, but always reaching out to the beyond. Not waiting, but always creating.
Here Beyond is an invitation to see through the artist’s eyes as his mind takes a walk. The exploration follows no path, it is simply a wander into the beyond, the unknown. The unknown is fundamental in Komeil’s art – without it, creation cannot happen. As he paints, each canvas becomes a window from which one can catch glimpses of what is behind the veil.
As a child, Komeil used to sit immersed in the shallows of the sea, his chin bobbing above the waves as he stared at the clouds. How would a duck or a seagull see this world? He would wonder. Why are we alive? Why are we here? There are no answers to these questions, but there is beauty in acknowledging the mystery.
Here Beyond welcomes you to view this collection in the same spirit.
Drawing and painting with spontaneity is Komeil’s acknowledgment that change is constant in life.
Creating art is the artist’s way of staying awake for anything that may come.
What would the next moment propose? How would he respond to it? How would the canvas receive it? His eyes, following his brush, try to find out.
About the motifs:
sarv and botteh
The form of the cypress is like a drop of water, with symmetrical sides and a curved bottom. In Persian culture, the cypress represents evergreen life. The symbol of one of the seven archangels in Zoroastrianism, the cypress embodies agelessness and longevity, as well as freedom, integrity, and justice. The upright tree features prominently in Persian mythology and imagination, as is evident in the legend of the cypress of Kashmar.
The “botteh” (or paisley) is a familiar motif which originates from Persia. It can be seen as a bent cypress, its tip pointed towards one direction as if it is blown by a strong gust of wind. It is resilient as it is flexible, standing strong against adversity and oppression – bringing to mind the survival of Persian culture and language in defiance of the Arab conquests. Bending, but not breaking. This spirit lends strength to poets and the populace alike.
The vitality of the cypress spans across centuries, and extends to modern day Iran. Its life-giving green and fertile curves inspire Komeil’s works, which unfurl as he draws from his roots. Through the humble act of painting which knows no bounds or borders, Komeil discovers visual elements which bind him to his cultural heritage, and provide him with a space of belonging among those who came before and those who will come after.
The legend of the noble cypress of Kashmar
Legend has it that the prophet Zoroaster had planted a cypress tree in the village of Kashmar, to witness the King Gushtasp’s acceptance of the Zoroastrian faith. Over many centuries, the noble tree grew tall and strong, amidst the rise and fall of kings, and through the Islamic conquest of Persia. Unrivalled in its beauty and height, the tree’s fame travelled far and wide until it reached the ears of Al-Mutawakkil, an Abbasid caliph. Al-Mutawakkil, intrigued by the great cypress of Kashmar, decided that he had to see it with his own eyes. Instead of travelling to the tree, he gave orders for it to be cut down, split into pieces, and brought to him by camels. Upon arrival, carpenters would rebuild the tree for the caliph to enjoy. After that, its branches would be used for beams in his new palace.
When the people heard of the plan, they were grief-stricken – they pleaded for mercy and tried to offer large sums of money to secure the majestic tree, to no avail. It was cut down, and cut apart.
They say that the noble cypress was 1450 years old at that point, with a girth of 28 whip lengths, and provided an enormous shade that could shelter 10,000 sheep. When the tree fell, the skies went black with the fleeing birds which had built their nests in its branches. It took 1,300 camels to carry the whole tree, in parts, to Baghdad. Al-Mutawakkil never saw the tree. Just before the procession arrived with its pieces, the caliph was assassinated.
He was hacked to pieces by his own slaves.
A poetic response to Here Beyond
by Benjamin Ong
There is the illusion
That a leaf can be anything:
Growing to the sun,
away from the earth
Longer, wider, higher and older
Than its kin.
But the life of the leaf is in the tree
– and the tree alone
The tree’s life is in its roots
And its roots in the earth.
Wherever you may be
Rooted and uprooted
You travel the same earth
And the destiny of every leaf
Is gravity.
Photo by Amin Kamrani
Thank you, from my heart, to musician friends Nelson, Yann, and Xian for coming to play their improvised creations in response to the paintings. It was an honour beyond words.
Photos by Amin Kamrani.
More memories from opening night. Much gratitude to friends who gave their time and love so generously to make this event happen, especially Ben, Keira, Alexis, Jun E, Zarul, Allie and Amin. Thank you, Improv Bistro for being the most generous hosts. To Ben Ong, thank you for your poetic response to my paintings. For those who acquired a painting, your support means so much more than you might know. And finally to everyone who came to see the paintings, thank you from my heart to yours.
Photos by Amin Kamrani
Conversation with Allie Hill
on Here Beyond artworks during the exhibition opening night