MySide: Payam Akramipour

For this edition of #MySide, we welcome Payam Akramipour, an Iranian researcher, lecturer and photographer with more than a decade of experience behind the camera. A graduate of the Department of Visual Arts at the University of Tehran, Payam has exhibited widely, received awards for his work, and taken part in international festivals.

In his photography, Payam turns a critical eye on the landscapes, politics and everyday realities of contemporary Iran. His images reflect on poverty, inequality, environmental neglect and urban identity, while also capturing the resilience and creativity of people living within these conditions. Grounded in both scholarship and lived experience, his work invites us to look more closely at how environments shape lives, hopes and futures:

In my country, Iran, Islamist rulers have for years promised people paradise and a better life both in this earthly world and the spiritual one. People spend their days and nights consumed by thoughts of reaching this promised paradise, only to face closed doors and an uncertain future.

Modern architecture requires an understanding that is not easily attained. Some buildings in my city, Kermanshah (a city in western Iran), may appear relatively modern at first glance, but their surroundings do not complement them. At first, the contrast and interplay between the horizontal lines of the stairs and the vertical lines of the building's facade may seem appealing, but this superficial charm quickly fades.

Creating a modern cityscape is not simply achieved by using certain materials and decorative elements in building construction. The surrounding environment must also be modern and in harmony with the buildings. In my city, Kermanshah (a city in western Iran), newly constructed buildings stand beside colourful, traditional old stairways, lacking a cohesive architectural identity.

The politicians and Shia clerics who take part in city council elections every few years in my country have become symbols of oppression corruption and deepening class division. While they gaze into the distance on posters and banners accompanied by hollow and deceitful slogans their images scattered across the city poor and homeless people push carts filled with trash and collected scraps passing by the doors of real estate agencies.

This is a politics and a religion that has improved neither the material lives of the people nor their spiritual well-being.

"Silver City" is the name I have chosen for my city, Kermanshah (a city in western Iran), because a significant number of buildings, instead of featuring elegant facades and beautiful windows, are partially covered with bitumen waterproofing, giving the city an unappealing look.

Waste collectors in Iran do not have a decent or dignified life. They are forced to wear worn-out clothes, sometimes even old military uniforms discarded by soldiers. Pushing heavy trolleys through the streets, they work tirelessly from dawn to dusk, clinging to the hope of a better future.

In developing countries like Iran, poverty is on the rise due to various issues, including government mismanagement. The poor become even poorer, widening the gap between the wealthy and the needy. While they endure hardship, struggling with heavy, low-paying jobs, vibrant and dazzling advertisements shine like stars.

Our environment is one of the factors of happiness. In Kermanshah (one of the western cities of Iran), the only amusement park has been closed for several years. Also, the lake, with a depth of more than 4 meters around it, has been dried for several years due to the government's mismanagement. What remains of the lake are the walls around it. They are like castle walls that prohibit people from going there.

Although my country, Iran, has abundant assets and resources such as oil and gas, and is considered a wealthy nation, there are homes where no trace of human dignity can be found. Homes built on the tires of heavy machinery and tractors, lacking both beauty and safety. Colourful, deceptive murals in the city serve as a cover for the state of these homes and the sorrow and misery of their inhabitants.

Childhood is a fleeting gift, given to humans only once, a brief escape from a world of chaos and confusion into one of wonder and imagination. But sometimes, there is no refuge from that chaos, and this precious gift is trapped in places overshadowed by war memorials and fighter aircraft statues.

In a land where war persists, it is the jets that play in the sky, while the seesaws remain childless.