Shiraz, my home town, is widely known as the city of Hafez and Saadi – two of Iran’s greatest poets. It is celebrated for its poetry, wine, and the scent of orange blossoms. But beneath this beauty lies a darker reality that I feel compelled to expose through my lens.
I was born into a middle-class family, and grew up quite isolated from the outside world. My grandfather had been addicted to drugs and alcohol, and my mother’s childhood was often filled with conflict and violence. Her deep-seated fear of harmful people and bad influences led her to become extremely distrustful of others, and she built a metaphorical wall around us. Despite financial difficulties, my parents made an effort to raise us in a more affluent area. I had almost no real understanding of Shiraz or its people and only started exploring its older, historical districts after returning from university.
I was studying architecture and bought a camera for my coursework. One day, while photographing the southern parts of the city, I came across a neighbourhood filled with homeless people and drug-users. The scene was strange and shocking and deeply affected me. From then on, I frequently visited the area with my camera. Initially, I focused on individuals dealing with addiction – those who are often abandoned by their families, society and the state. In Iran, heroin and crystal meth are among the most commonly abused substances, and addiction rates are rising. I also became acquainted with drug-dealers and criminals, which allowed me to document their lives, too.
These people typically live in impoverished and marginalised neighbourhoods where, often, economic hardship and cultural conditions contribute to their involvement in such lifestyles. My goal is to portray them with nuance, capturing not only their circumstances but also the subcultures they exist within, such as hypermasculinity, patriarchy and traditional values.
This image is part of a continuing project focused on individuals with links to crime in some way. Ali comes from a family with a history of criminal charges. His brother was executed. I met Ali in an alleyway. We connected, shared a joint, and he agreed to be photographed.
The photo was taken in his room. His body was covered in scars from self-inflicted knife wounds, and across his chest he has a tattoo that means: “Stay healthy.” Behind him hung a poster of Googoosh, one of the most iconic female pop singers from pre-revolutionary Iran, along with framed miniature paintings and a poster of Imam Ali, the first Shia Imam. His bedding was bundled together in a cloth in the corner of the room. After seeing the photographs, he asked me to send him a few copies.
My subjects often ask why I am taking these pictures, what I intend to do with them, and where they will be shared. I make an effort to first build trust and establish a connection. Sometimes, people even pose voluntarily, which is quite remarkable. Some are genuinely happy to be photographed – perhaps because there is a human need to be seen and acknowledged.
The environments I document are often male-dominated. Women are less visible in these spaces and, overall, photographing women in Iran is more difficult – especially for male photographers, who face greater challenges in building trust with female subjects.
Censorship in Iran is pervasive. Since the recent protests, even the presence of a camera on the streets has become increasingly restricted. The state is unwilling to allow an honest portrayal of public life. Whether my work has shifted perceptions of Iranian society, either domestically or internationally, I cannot say. Iran is extraordinarily diverse in terms of culture and ethnicity and I only document a small corner. My intention is not to represent the country as a whole, but rather to focus on this specific, often overlooked segment of society.
Shayan Sajadian’s CV
Born: Shiraz, Iran, 1994.
Trained: Self-taught.
Influences: “Studying other photographers’ works. The renowned Iranian photographer Kaveh Golestan once said that he wanted his photographs to ‘slap’ the viewer. In my own way, I strive to achieve the same impact – disrupting the viewer’s expectations and provoking a reaction.”
High point: “Taking the cover photo for a single by Sevdaliza, a singer who dedicated a song to Iran’s Woman, Life, Freedom movement, and a portrait of my friend Shahrokh, an Iranian gay adult performer who was born in the US. He has never visited Iran – nor is he able to. Shahrokh has the phrase ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’ tattooed on his chest.”
Low point: “There have been instances when I was in danger while photographing. On several occasions, people attempted to rob me – once successfully, although I was able to track down the thief and recover my equipment. On another occasion, I was sexually assaulted at knife-point by five assailants during a shoot.”
Top tip: “Study and keep working so hard. Find your way – the way you want to see and think.”
