Atop a horse, three nude figures ride through a soft rainbow sunset. An angel, identifiable by her white wings, stabs an arrow through the chest of a naked woman who slumps into the neck of a smizing horse. Between them, a third nude figure lies precariously on the creature’s back, one arm holding a wilting pink flower and the other the angel’s hand. There is an assumed urgency with the speed of the blurring landscape, but the horse’s heels are turned up in pleasure. The balance between languid ease and deep suffering is palpable and confusing. Viewers of Affsoongar’s work will be familiar with this contrast.
When Affsoongar posts an image of this oil pastel, Last Ride, on Instagram, she captions it “Angels are evil” Sometimes, the captions accompanying her work are short and cryptic. Other times, they are meditations on the impact of the Israeli/American attacks on Iran. She asks: World are you watching?
Affsoongar doesn’t like to write about her work. When I ask her about this, she says, “There’s no specific reason. I could not find the right words for how I feel. That’s why I paint.”
It’s a point of dissonance or tension, this desire from art publications or viewers for a deep insight into an artist's work. Sometimes to describe something is to distill it to the point of atomisation. The beauty of the potential in the narrative storytelling of Affsoongar’s figures allow the viewer to expand her world with their own interpretations.
Affsoongar describes Last Ride as an expression of her current experience. “I think in some shape or form all three of these figures represent what I was going through: feeling like I was shot in the back and at the same time trying to pull myself together and pull out the arrows in my back and at the same time keep myself sane buy myself flowers and imagine it was all just a nightmare.” The Palestinian poet Marwan Makhoul describes the inability to hear birdsong over warplanes in his poem On Politics and Poetry. Like yearning for the background sound of chirping, the bombings and blackouts in Iran turn buying flowers into a safety risk. For Affsoongar, this routine does not normalize war, but offers hope.
Text by Sophie Howe.
Affsoongar (Enchanter) presents glimpses of a femme fatale as an alter-ego. Through this character, she creates a counter-narrative that challenges conventional belief systems and provokes taboo-breaking ideas. Affsoongar draws inspiration from ancient mythological creatures, traditional Persian miniatures, and Qahveh Khaneh (old coffeehouse) paintings, reinterpreting and rewriting these visual traditions in her own way.
Her portrayal of this rebellious figure is closely intertwined with the natural world, where strength and vulnerability coexist. Women, like nature, are resilient—fragile yet essential, often overlooked or taken for granted. Just as nature endures damage and regenerates, Affsoongar’s woman reconnects with her roots, rebuilds herself, and inspires others through unwavering perseverance. Her scars serve as a testament to her enduring power and indomitable spirit.
Nature provides the setting for her bare, unprotected figures, existing in harmony with its raw, untamed forces. The naked human body, without added protection, emphasizes the balance between vulnerability and strength. The connection to nature, paired with the image of a bold and seductive Persian woman, captures the essence of empowerment Iranian women once embodied before being constrained by patriarchy and religious taboos.
For personal safety and privacy, Affsoongar chooses to remain anonymous, working discreetly, while occasionally leaving her signature name as a mark in street art and graffiti.