Chez Mana

The house is a simple two story brick building in which dreams, shattered hopes and tragedies dance together. My childhood memories are of tall accomplished uncles and eloquent aunts who often visited us after they had studied abroad at the best universities, of my father’s siblings who stayed with us for long periods as he guided and protected all of them, of many story-book weddings, of my friends who were always curious about the ideas emanating out of that house.

From the MIT and Berkeley engineering magazines that fascinated me, to legal books and the works of the best Persian poets, to the people gathered there to discuss the latest political or personal issues, to the melodious piano notes struck by my oldest brother, there was the raw material to build anything you wanted. At the source were two beautiful, successful, open-minded people, mom and dad. The energy was electrifying, and the variety of characters and ideas coming through that simple door more exhilirating than the stories written in all the books resting on the shelves.

One morning, my dad called me to come and have breakfast with him. Looking at his face in the dark kitchen, I saw a devastated man that I had never seen before. The thin but always confident and powerful man was sitting in the small kitchen asking me what I wanted for breakfast but there was nothing on the table and his eyes were full of tears. We were all alone.

My sister and my three brothers had left to study abroad and my mom had taken a leave, a long leave to sort out her own life. There was no talk about it but the emptiness I felt in his eyes was overwhelming. There in that small kitchen, I told him that I want a milkshake. He took a banana, mashed it with the fork, poured over some fresh milk, and gave me the best milkshake in the world. I told him I had never had such a delicious milkshake in my life. Soon, I realized that despite sadness, I could fulfill my wishes if my dad was there with me and if there was a will to go on. That drive, we found it in each other, as in those moments we had nobody except the two of us. Soon, all his dreams and expectations started pouring into me and his work.

As he climbed the ladder of the judiciary, I soon understood that he not only loves and longs for his family but also for the just treatment of every member of the community. He would work for hours writing legal articles, protecting the poor and the rich as long as they were right. He taught me lessons in hard work, honesty and integrity, always by example. With his career success, his travels began, and I remember him taking me along to the International Court of Justice at The Hague. I will never forget the day that my brothers joined us for a visit. Guided by my oldest brother, we wandered around Amsterdam and The Hague, discovering our new surroundings. Learning and questioning glued us all together.

It was obvious to me that my father was struggling to decide what would be best for me, to stay in Iran or follow my own path alone in France. Our separation was difficult but gradual. In The Hague, he would go to the court all day and I could wander around but would join him for lunch with his colleagues. He sent me to Strasbourg alone one summer to see if I could get by.

Our family had become widely scattered. My sister started her studies in October, 1968, at the faculty of architecture in Rome and soon my oldest brother followed her. My two younger brothers left to study at the University of Wisconsin. They were drawn by the progressive atmosphere of the campus at Madison, which at that time was a center of anti-Vietnam protest.

My father had a government scholarship to study at the Institut International d’Administration Publique (IIAP). This institute was just around the corner from Pantheon-Assas where later I studied Economics. My dad insisted that I go with him to the Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève just so I could see what it is like to do research! While at IIAP, he forged an enduring friendship with one of the most honored French families. I continued in his footsteps furthering my own ties with the family members, who were a great source of support and help to me throughout my time in Paris.

The news of the Iranian Revolution while I was studying in France caused elation among the student body abroad. This period did not last long. While I had always received letters from my father, the communication stopped and soon I realized that his life and the lives of all of us and the whole country had changed. Those letters, which were always full of poetry as well as advice, were a pillar of support for me. I have saved them all and still draw inspiration from them today.

From his early dealings with Dr. Mosadegh to his views on legal issues, I started to see another face of my dad. Courage. While many fled the country, he housed those who were scared despite his own position in the government. He would stand tall and confident that he is a man of law and he would fight until the end. My father, a handsome, charismatic, powerful, elegant and humble man, seemed quiet to many but he was not quiet when it came to the rules of law. When he saw people behaving unjustly, his finger would shake with rage and in his contained manner he would assert the principles of law. He started writing books about those principles. He would publish articles about his views no matter what the consequences and would live to the end of his life based on his sense of right and wrong and his belief in the power of law.

Despite his achievements, his wisdom and his unique view of the world, what I remember the most is his simple quiet kindness. He was a very humble man. He had a long battle with Alzheimer’s during which my mother and his nurse took care of him. He has left us now, but has left behind my caring and accomplished mother and my four siblings whose achievements realize the dreams that my father had for us.

As I say farewell to my dad, I strive to attain the courage and will power that carried him through life in every struggle he faced. Easier said than done, but I will always be guided by his love and wisdom.

I vividly remember the first book that really captured my imagination. It was Blanche Neige, the French version of Snow White. I got it as an award in 3rd grade for my outstanding French language comprehension. I became lost in the world of Blanche Neige, the pretty, innocent and kind lady who seemed to die and was revived by a prince. I forgot about my homework and fantasized about the prince who would save me from everything that bothered me. In my mind, the characters of that fictional world felt real. I even imagined that I might have to eat a bad apple to be saved from the horrors I felt around me.

As much as I could identify with Blanche Neige, I still felt lonely. I could not converse with her, and in contrast to her dramatic rescue, I had no instant way to change my own destiny. I felt better when I didn’t open that book again because it only took me away from pain for a short time. I needed to put the book down and deal with the realities. Ironically, closing the book and getting away from it made me feel better. I was not at the mercy of the story.

The memory of what I felt that day has traveled with me through time and place and today as I look back, I think differently. This book was the beginning of my fascination with creation.

Today, as I am reconnecting with old friends and creating new friendships, I see books from a new perspective. It is as important to discuss them with people as it is to read them. It is through this collaboration that we sort through the maze of ideas and feelings, and even find inspiration for new projects and advances. Maybe there are times when we just want to get away and our mute companions who do not argue with us or ask things from us can make us feel better. But in the long run, the lonely immersion in other people’s creative worlds can take a toll. I am changing my relationship with books and the seed of that was Blanche Neige. I am seeking the pursuit of ideas and stories through live communication created between the reader and writer, the common grounds for friendship and companionship, dialogue and finally the creation of my own plots.

This Sunday, I will be meeting with some friends to discuss the Tintin Book “The Crab with the Golden Claws” after we see the Spielberg movie “The Adventures of Tintin,” which is mostly based on it. The Belgian author and artist Georges Prosper Remi, pen-named Hergé, completed 23 comic books in The Adventures of Tintin series, which he wrote and illustrated from 1929 until his death in 1983.

Voyage and discovery is central in all of Herge’s work. “The crab with the Golden Claws” was written in German-occupied Belgium during World War II. Hergé created the comic most likely to escape from those realities. He had to move the focus of Tintin’s adventures away from current affairs, in order to avoid controversy.

Looking at the Tintin comics, I get submerged in the stylized way Hergé draws the water, his fresh and clean palette of colors, the humanlike expressions in the face of Tintin’s dog Snowy, the lovely character developments and the amazing ability to express speed. He is famous for having created the “ligne Claire” style in which he uses strong lines and pays equal attention to every element. We will have a lot to talk about as we discuss Hergé’s art on Sunday.

Rodin and America, Influence and Adaptation, 1876 – 1936 is currently on exhibit at the Cantor Arts Center at Stanford University. It features the works of Rodin and the American artists he influenced. These artists include John Storrs, Gertrude Whitney, Georgia O’Keeffe, Alexander Calder, Edward Steichen and many others. His late drawings influenced John Singer Sargent’s drawings of nude figures. In addition to a wide range of Rodin’s work, the work of 42 other artists are on display, showing the influence of Rodin’s artistic innovations. This powerful exhibit gave me many things to think about but two elements particularly struck me, the setting and the idea of fragmentation.

Rodin applied to the École des Beaux-Arts three times and his application was rejected. He finally applied to a less prestigious school that trained craftsmen rather than fine artists. Yet he became the most celebrated artist of his day. Rodin is credited with several innovations: the truncation of human body, which was intensively investigated by Edward Steichen and other American photographers, the dissolution of form, a more naturalistic approach to sexual subject matter, the use of unfinished surfaces, and the addition of powerful feelings of movement in sculpture. Rodin’s work was a tipping point in America’s transition from the academic tradition to modernism.

Of all his contributions, the introduction of the fragment as a complete work affected me the most. Rainer Maria Rilke says “It is left to the artist to make out of many things one thing, and from the smallest part of a thing an entirety. “ One can communicate powerfully, spiritually, and emotionally in a fragment.

A fragment can express better a certain mood than the whole object. The exhibit starts with a large banner showing Steichen’s photograph of Rodin’s statue of Balzac. Steichen talks about the dialectic between the photographer and its subject:“The photographer not only sees – he looks and in the process of looking, insight is developed to the point where the object looks back at the photographer and together they make the photo. “ The photos I have taken are also fragments of his works, to create a dialectic between his work and my feelings.

I have seen Rodin’s sculptures in the beautiful Musée Rodin in Paris. It is an elegant hotel particulier with elaborate boiseries in a lovely garden which contains many of the famous sculptures in natural settings. However I found the setting at the Cantor a perfect atmosphere to surround his works. The modern stair case and the clean lines of the windows provide a minimalist background that frames each sculpture and enhances it, bringing out the modern aspects of his work.

The way in which the artist reaches his goal is the secret of his own existence.—Auguste Rodin

Let us get a glimpse through Rodin’s existence by seeing this exhibit. I am leading a Meetup group called Les Bons Vivants. It is for French speaking people or those who would like to be involved with French culture. We will be meeting at 2:00 pm on January 7th at the Cantor Arts Center. Please join us.