Architect uses intense paintings to transcend structured past
By Kathleen Mitchell
Oct. 1, 2003 9:00 p.m.
Architecture’s iron frames and painting’s whimsical
brush strokes may not seem to mix, but for Kamran Khavarani, an
architect and painter, the two blend more easily than paint on his
palette.
Khavarani, an award-winning architect, debuts his art for the
first time in Los Angeles with an exhibit titled, “Color of
Love: My Dreams, My Visions” at the former Flax building, now
the Gallery on Lindbrook.
The artist graduated from Tehran University in 1966 with a
master’s degree in architecture and a Ph.D. in urban design.
When Khavarani paints, however, he abandons his formal education
and professional practices.
“I don’t see. I don’t think. I become an
instrument, and I let joy come through me. When that happens, and
when I see the end, if I relate with the mind, I cannot understand
how I did it because it is mindless,” said Khavarani.
When he paints, Khavarani’s joy literally passes from his
flesh to the paper ““ the artist bypasses the traditional
brush in favor of his own fingers. He also uses paper instead of
canvas.
His approach to art undeniably derives from his personality. At
his opening reception, he fluttered around the room, stilled only
for seconds by the cameras’ flashes. When his guests stepped
from the car-congested street and into the gallery filled with
Farsi and violin music, he greeted each with a sincere kiss.
“When he meets you, he takes your hand to his chest and
pulls you into his world,” said Robert Ogram, a publisher for
the Art Enrichment Group in Malibu, who has worked with Khavarani
many times.
Khavarani’s world, as experienced in the gallery, is
unlike any other. Beneath their glass, his paintings seem to glow
and radiate colorful light against the otherwise starkly white
walls.
With a style described as a fusion of impressionism,
expressionism and abstraction, his pieces look almost chaotic with
colorfully swirling paint. When the eyes relax into the painting,
however, the picture emerges.
In the case of “Burning Thunder,” a blur resolves
itself upon examination. Khavarani amazingly bestows sound with
physical properties. Rolling layers of blue, green, yellow and
orange make lightning’s accomplice tangible as they perfectly
delineate a feeling of movement and color. Tiny noses, eyes and
chins even emerge from the paint and form visages if one looks long
enough.
“It’s interesting to hear what people see in
Khavarani’s paintings. They say they see faces and
shapes,” said Ogram.
Khavarani shares his exhibit with fellow artist, Jalal
Sousan-Abadi, the legendary miniaturist and former professor of
miniature painting at the school of fine arts in Tehran.
In the two artists’ collaborative works, Khavarani’s
“formless” reds, greens and yellows swirl within and
around Sousan-Abadi’s lovers, sages and heroes, outlined in
thin black ink.
Sousan-Abadi concretizes what are hidden shapes and faces in his
partner’s solo works, and Khavarani reminds the viewer that
creativity and emotion even exist between black lines.
Khavarani names Rumi, the Persian mystical poet and philosopher
who disappeared one day in the 13th century, as one of his major
inspirations. Rumi may have vanished, but Kamran Khavarani
incorporates the sage’s distant teachings into the world
around him: “Drunken with love, I sail like a boat. Anchored
to mind, I fail to float.”
“Color of Love: My Dreams, My Visions” is open
now through Nov. 1 at the Gallery on Lindbrook, 10852 Lindbrook
Ave. For more information call (323) 656-2000 or visit
www.khavarani.com online.
