Mutism

In Farsi, there is a saying: sokoot neshaneye rezayat ast (سکوت نشانه رضایت است) — "silence is the sign of agreement." Often used in the context of arranged marriages, this phrase traditionally interprets a woman’s silence as consent. However, I challenge this interpretation, suggesting that such silence is often the result of deep-rooted social, cultural, and traditional pressures that force women into compliance and self-censorship. These pressures compel women to suppress their natural need for self-expression, leading to isolation and a gradual erasure of their voices. In denying their right to speak, women are, in effect, denying their own existence.

​

This concept is poignantly captured in a quote by Trinh T. Minh-ha: “Listen again for a few moments to depressive speech, repetitive, monotonous, or empty of meaning, inaudible even for the speaker before he or she sinks into mutism.” Inspired by these words, I created Mutism, an installation that visualizes the invisible wounds of self-censorship.

​

The installation features a long roll of delicate Japanese paper, symbolizing the enduring practice of self-censorship imposed on women throughout their lives. This paper, known for its fragility and transparency, represents the woman who has much to say but remains unseen, her voice only becoming visible to those who take the time to look closely.

​

I inscribed Trinh's words onto the paper by painstakingly poking tiny holes with a needle, a process that mirrors the painful and unhealthy effects of self-censorship. Each hole symbolizes the invisible wounds inflicted on a woman's life by the repeated act of silencing herself. Individually, these punctures may seem insignificant, but together they form a powerful and damaging message—a silent scream that, over time, leaves a lasting impact.

​

This work illustrates how the cumulative effect of these small, repeated acts of self-censorship can erode a woman's sense of self, leaving behind an existence defined by silence and invisibility.