2020 Bob and Diane Fund Grantee

Jalal Shamsazaran

“Jalal's work has such a strong narrative. His distinct voice tells a strong personal story. The images, such as the car and the coat hanging on the line were unexpected and refreshing ways to interpret these scenes.”

— Jared Soares, Judge for 2020 award

The Loss of Oral HistorY

Jalal Shamsazaran

What bothers my father is not forgetting, but instead, it is remembering.

Often my 83-year-old father recalls and relives the 1915 invasion of Tabriz by Russia, the death of soldiers and holy fighters of the democratic party in Azerbaijan, the central government killing fathers as their sons bared witness.

My father and my aunt are suffering from Alzheimer's disease, a path that my grandfather had taken as well. This disease is hereditary in our family. My father's present condition may end up being my own in the future.

Among all this misery, there is just my mother and myself. She has always stood with my father through thick and thin, and her calmness and courage have allowed me to discover love, compassion and empathy. For my father and many other fathers in a similar predicament, the toll of this disease is not only the loss of memory but also of the oral history of my country during those turbulent years of suffocation, censorship and humiliation.

We have always been at risk of being forgotten. It has become an unlikely theme of Iran’s current history.

Tabriz, Iran. The slim hands of my father on a blanket as he sleeps. These hands are part of our country’s history to me and reminds me of the hardships he resists for his family for many years.

My father is buttoning his shirt on last days of summer 2019. These are the last days which he could button his shirt by himself.

Father is stares off while he is sitting on the bed. His face is faded behind the curtain. As he loses his awareness, he prefers to sleep more. It seems that he suffers more pain when he is awake.

My mother is preparing my father's morning medicines. After Iran's economic sanctions, the cost of drugs, medical supplies and services has doubled, which puts a heavy burden on families.

Azerbaijan, Islami Island. My father is 83 years old. He has come to the dried-up Lake Urmia for the New Year holidays. He used to swim in this lake every summer, and believed the water of the Lake was useful for his skin. Since he has been afflicted with Alzheimer’s and repeats his question several times, he asks his grandson, where all this water has gone?

I bathe my father with the help of my mother. My father no longer has the balance to stand up, he can’t even do the simplest of daily tasks. He doesn’t remember keeping his eyes closed, the shampoo caused her eyes to burn. Bathing helps my father's mental health and makes him happier.

The doctor is taking cerebral tape of my father on the days we found out that his Alzheimer’s had seriously progressed.

My father's coat hangs outside on a hanger on a snowy night. It has been hanging for a few days, but my mother doesn’t want to take it. My father has not been able to go outside of the house for weeks.

My dad is sleeping more these days. He only watches television while at home. The Baku channel, which broadcasts Azerbaijani music, is his favorite channel. Some nights the signals and pictures are not good. This night there was no signal from his favorite channel and he decided to go to bed.

Gathering for dinner in a summer night, my father likes to stay in the room and watch TV. The noise and crowd bothers him.

He has completely lost his short-term memory. He can't walk easily, and also can’t talk. Going to the toilet is one of the problems he suffers. It is early in the morning, my father is crying most of the time, my mother is comforting him. Antidepressant medicines cant stop him crying. Depression is one of the consequences of Alzheimer’s.

My sister, Nahid, is cutting our father’s hair and shaving his face. The Iranian National News channel is showing a political Mullah. The TV is often on when my father stays home since it amuses him. After Iranian Islamic Revolution, the majority of the TV programs are political programs and Mullahs’ lectures.

My dad is sleeping more these days. Helen is his youngest grandson. He's four years old. He painted his grandfather sleeping and wants to show him.

My sad mother is caressing him. She is trying to talk to him, but he is not aware most of the time.

My mother is feeding my father. He is no longer able to chew his food. My mother prepares mashed food for him.

The key to my father’s safe is in plastic container which he keeps his documents and money in. He has not referred to his safe recently. Neither he remembers it nor has patience and mood.

My father is staring off while he is sitting on the bed.

My father is sitting exhausted in the wheelchair in the early morning; waiting to make his bed after cleaning it.

My father is praying, he often forgets that he has prayed and he recites it again. It often takes longer for him to pray until he gets tired or someone reminds him.

My father asks, “Where is here? I want to go to our own home“ - my mother takes him by the window and shows him the yard and tells him here is the house you built many years ago. Most of the time my mother shows him all around the house and reminds him of their past memories, and also moving and exercising is good for him.

The picture of my father in the mirror beside the image of my grandmother. A few hours after this picture was made, he died.

My aunt is reading Quran for my father and my mother is dripping rosewater on his face. After a moment, he departed his life forever.

My mother is praying for my father while holding a picture of him in her hands in a cold snowy day.

One a snowy day, we are returning from my father’s grave. My sister is holding his young image in her hands.

The picture frame which my mother has bought recently. She asked me to print their youth photo in that frame size.