Sunday, October 18, 2009
College Of Marin Installation (Memorial)
These photographs were taken in 1974 or 1975...installation of Farhad's sculpture design, rendered in Corten steel. I remember a ceremony dedicating the sculpture, and these photographs show family in the foreground.
Memorial -- Sculpture at College of Marin Campus Kentfield
Photograph taken July 2010. Discoloration near top attributed to vandal bumper sticker applied at one time...such is the fate of many pieces of public art. I will have to figure out a way to diminish the discoloration, as possible.
Farhadea
Farhad wanted to be buried on a particular hill on the family lands in Iran. He had said he wanted a tea pot ready, with means to heat the water, so that a visitor could have a cup of tea, and presumably contemplate or enjoy the view. My uncle took his ashes back to the hill Farhadea. Farhad told Patricia she could be on the same hill, just lower down. He had a big smile on his face, so there was humor, but likely something else too!
Farhad's niece, my cousin Tabandeh, recently related an episode to me in email regarding the time of the burial in Iran. I read it with tears, but also comfort -- that Dad was held in love, that Papa continued to advocate for those parts of life that are somewhat intangible, and that Taby gave me the visual and the sight and sound of those poplars in the picture. Here is an excerpt from her email:
"Barry brought Farhad's ashes to Iran, Homi, my mother and I drove from Tehran to Farhadea, which is near one of our old farms Damghan to join Firooz, and I had the privilege of carrying the box containing his ashes for over eight hours of drive on my lap. My mother kept asking me why I would not lay the box down on the floor of the car, but I always distracted her because she loved Farhad so much that she would have had a "fit" if she knew what was in the box. Two reasons for that. One her love for her brother-in-law, (with whom she grew up almost) the other the religious concerns since in Islam cremation is not permitted. When we got to the top of the hill, with its magnificent view, we sent the servants away and Firooz and Homi laid the box in the tomb. You can verify this with Homi...remind him of our trip with Adagh, my mother, in case his brain is affected like mine or, as you said, men don't remember and relate details so well. Kambia, it was one of the most difficult and wrenching trips I have ever made, but am proud to have held Amoo's ashes on my lap. The valley below the hill is full of poplar trees. Papa always was pushing Firooz to increase the number of the trees. I don't know whether you are familiar with the kind, but when the wind blows the silver underside of the leaves create a beauty of their own and the sound of the air swishing through is better than Mozart and Mendelssohn. "
("Amoo" is uncle in Farsi, Barry and Firooz are brothers of Farhad, Homi is a nephew (son of Firooz, and as I mentioned, Taby (Tabendeh) is niece of Farhad, Papa is Farhad's father...who lived to be over 100!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)