Artist statement

Var­i­ous trips, see­ing peo­ple and places in­ter­preted by their cus­toms, lan­guage and tra­di­tions, get­ting in­volved with West­ern lit­er­a­ture and tales like One Thou­sand and One Nights, all have led me to get in­ter­ested in so­cial doc­u­men­tary and eth­nol­ogy, in or­der to search for life among all these. It also led me to em­brace the par­tic­u­lar form of re­al­ity that is vis­i­ble in doc­u­men­tary cin­ema, not what we see in the mo­tif of life every day.

My sub­jects are usu­ally those who are trapped by their so­cial po­si­tion in which they played no role; those who are ca­pa­ble of change but are not am­bi­tious enough, peo­ple who have tried so hard but are not sat­is­fied be­cause of his­tor­i­cal in­jus­tice. As an artist, a con­stant Grotesque has al­ways been there for me, as well as the ef­fort to re-cre­ate hope which makes me con­tinue to cre­ate art­works.

All these make me think that all peo­ple are he­roes in their lives. It just has to be a cam­era to record them and a nar­ra­tive mind to be able to com­pose them in a prin­ci­pally ef­fec­tive and struc­tured way. The out­come of this process is brought to­gether in the form of an art­work through some kind of play­ful­ness (to ridicule se­ri­ous is­sues or vice versa, as well as max­i­mal ex­ag­ger­a­tion or some for­mal and ver­bal games, etc.), in or­der to bring to­day’s ra­tio­nal hu­man to an­other world, and bring it back as an ec­sta­tic be­ing. In the mean­time, the au­di­ence some­times gets up­set and cries, and some­times cack­led in laugh­ter.