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The new documentary from Sara Nodjoumi, “A Revolution on Canvas,” poses some provocative questions, not least of which is: Are there things that are more important than art? At moments of historical consequence, creative types of all sorts are given to ponder their efficacy or relevance. When the fates of governments, cultures, and human lives are at stake, a person could think twice about, as the painter Philip Guston famously put it, “adjust[ing] a red to a blue.”
The subject of “A Revolution on Canvas,” Nicky Nodjoumi, fled his native Iran more than 40 years ago and has, since then, been living and working in Brooklyn. One hesitates, though, to call him a New York artist, and one dares not call him an American artist. Although the 81-year old painter has spent the majority of his life in the United States — including stints as a student at the New School and at City College — Mr. Nodjoumi remains an Iranian through-and-through. He is a refugee of not one, but two revolutions.
Born at Kermanshah, Mr. Nodjoumi moved to Tehran to study at the School of Fine Arts. Being from the provinces, the fledgling artist underwent ribbing for his accent, but not for his talent. He met and subsequently fell in love with a fellow student, Nahid Hagigat.
When the two married, Ms. Hagigat’s Jewish parents weren’t particularly happy with the union — what with Mr. Nodjoumi being Muslim and all. Were mom and dad reconciled upon the birth of their granddaughter, Sara — that is to say, our erstwhile documentarian? “A Revolution on Canvas” is, as it turns out, a daughter’s reckoning with her parents and, especially, dad.
Mr. Nodjoumi came of age under the reign of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran. Being young, headstrong, and politically minded, Mr. Nodjoumi could not help but cheer on the Shah’s overthrow in 1979. He was ensconced, at the time, at New York City. He bought a ticket to go back home, leaving wife and young daughter in the process. Revolution was in the offing.
Mr. Nodjoumi took part in the Islamic Revolution, crafting posters and paintings critical of the Shah’s regime. When the mullahs took power, Mr. Nodjoumi’s fervor was quashed in fairly quick order. “Report on the Revolution,” his one-person exhibition at the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art in 1980, drew the ire of the Khomeini regime and was shut down. The mullahs didn’t have a liking for anti-authoritarian imagery. Mr. Nodjoumi received word that he and his art weren’t welcome in the new Iran. He high-tailed it back to America.
What happened to the so-called offending pictures? A good part of the film has Ms. Nodjoumi and her father attempting to determine their fate. A lot of time is spent on the phone and various screens with contacts in Iran, many of whose faces are blurred as a cautionary measure against government retaliation. A tense moment is caught on film as colleagues of the Nodjoumis attempt to enter the storage rooms of the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art. You can’t help but wonder: Is retrieving a picture worth putting a human life in jeopardy?
Although touted as an “art heist thriller,” Ms. Nodjoumi’s documentary is less likely to prompt adrenalin than exasperation. When geopolitical skullduggery isn’t being touched upon, the film details the byways of the artist’s life and the compromises and shortcomings it can entail. Mr. Nodjoumi and Ms. Hagigat have long been divorced due, in large part, to the former’s unbending integrity as an artist and seemingly unappeasable appetite for revolution.
Ms. Nodjoumi poses some choice questions to her dad and the answers are — well, they’re tough, even as they are essayed with a distinct sense of self-irony. Mr. Nodjoumi is, though, a patient and loving grandfather: The scenes with his grandchildren are as funny and tender as you’d want them to be.
Oh, and it should be mentioned that Mr. Nodjoumi’s paintings are something special: acerbic, pop-wise commentaries redolent of Hannah Hoch, Georg Grosz, and Neo Rauch. You’ll see enough of them in “A Revolution on Canvas” to want to view them for real — albeit not, it should be underlined, in Iran.
(c) 2023 Mario Naves
This review was originally published in the November 25, 2023 edition of The New York Sun.
Too Much Art 