Anahita (Ani) Bradberry

"Surface Tension" (2018)

Variable height x 10” x 10”
Argon, glass, transformer, wire, rubber caps, acrylic, water.

Installed at George Washington University's Gallery 102, Washington, DC.

Floating and sinking are sensations that are often difficult to differentiate. Surface Tension refers to the state that lies in the space in between — a dangerous suspension within uncertainty. Surface Tension is alive, pulsing with limited energy, experiencing a pull from all sides. The entry point into the nebulous liquid is elastic, close enough to touch. The faces that surround the scenario appear clear, yet the liquid holds only illusion at all angles when gazing from the outside. The luminous path is refracted in all directions, speaking many different languages. The light itself is a reaction: the result of forced power through a closed system. Thousands of volts hang peacefully at the mercy of a single line, safe only until the live wire touches the water. This destructive potential energy defines the chaotic experience in the aftermath of war and conflict. Despite the vulnerability as it hangs by a thread, Surface Tension offers comfort within an ocean of risk. We watch the vessel from dry land and try to determine if the water holds the form up or draws it deeper.

"Surface Tension" (2018)

"An Elegy for Insects" Collaboration with Nocturnal Medicine. Exhibited at Talk | Show in Brooklyn on June 22nd, 2019.

Insect populations are declining--we know this through such monumental documents as the recent paper in Biological Conservation that states that 40% of the world's insect populations are in decline; we see it ourselves--long drives up highways leave our windshields bugless. Continuous whispers that the bees are missing, their disappearance happening in slow motion as we sit here watching, paralyzed and silent.

This is an elegy for insects, a gathering for being with our feelings around the loss of insect populations and the emotional weight of their decline.

The party is a gift to insects and to ourselves. We choose not to dull our sadness or be unchanged in the face of our fear. Instead we bend with our sadness and bow to our fear because they are manifestations of our intimate connection to insects, as ecological co-participants. To deny or diminish these experiences is to deny the fact that we are so far from alone and that some of us are ending. We honor those who we share space with by honoring our feelings for them.

"Nevermind, Azizam" exhibition co-curated with Rex Delafkaran

Shown at Transformer, DC.
http://www.transformerdc.org/exhibitions/overview/exhibition-nevermind-azizam

Entering the room, indistinguishable combinations of saffron, Chanel No. 5 and black tea steep into the senses. Dole out the kisses to every cheek in the room. Catch the occasional salaam and khoshgel. Never quite understood or understanding, never quite the same, the ethnic friend, the American grandchild.

We are our own Others. We are troubled by the simultaneously intimate and unfamiliar facets of our family histories. This identity is defined by its fluctuation and intensely unique individual experience.

We are inexplicably in love with traditions that lie under lenses of our families and our countries. Both of our motherlands float at odds with one another, separated by an ocean of fear and mistrust. Within this tension, we are both horrified and strengthened by the myths. Exotification and fetishization have shaped our lives, and the myths become as vivid and slippery as the goldfish on nowruz. Our adolescence is embedded in the joy and anxiety of language. Rich with symbols, smells, textures and tastes, our shared experiences are pure poetry. We all know the sensations of gracious apologies and tart affection.

- Text by Ani Bradberry & Rex Delafkaran

"Veins" (2018)—collaborative piece with Rex Delafkaran, Transformer, DC

Variable height x 14" x 2"
Installed at Transformer, Washington, DC, for "Nevermind, Azizam."
http://www.transformerdc.org/exhibitions/overview/exhibition-nevermind-azizam

Entering the room, indistinguishable combinations of saffron, Chanel No. 5 and black tea steep into the senses. Dole out the kisses to every cheek in the room. Catch the occasional salaam and khoshgel. Never quite understood or understanding, never quite the same, the ethnic friend, the American grandchild.

We are our own Others. We are troubled by the simultaneously intimate and unfamiliar facets of our family histories. This identity is defined by its fluctuation and intensely unique individual experience.

We are inexplicably in love with traditions that lie under lenses of our families and our countries. Both of our motherlands float at odds with one another, separated by an ocean of fear and mistrust. Within this tension, we are both horrified and strengthened by the myths. Exotification and fetishization have shaped our lives, and the myths become as vivid and slippery as the goldfish on nowruz. Our adolescence is embedded in the joy and anxiety of language. Rich with symbols, smells, textures and tastes, our shared experiences are pure poetry. We all know the sensations of gracious apologies and tart affection.

- Text by Ani Bradberry & Rex Delafkaran

"Azizam" & "Wives and Daughters" (2017)

Installed at Transformer, Washington, DC, for "Nevermind, Azizam."
http://www.transformerdc.org/exhibitions/overview/exhibition-nevermind-azizam

Entering the room, indistinguishable combinations of saffron, Chanel No. 5 and black tea steep into the senses. Dole out the kisses to every cheek in the room. Catch the occasional salaam and khoshgel. Never quite understood or understanding, never quite the same, the ethnic friend, the American grandchild.

We are our own Others. We are troubled by the simultaneously intimate and unfamiliar facets of our family histories. This identity is defined by its fluctuation and intensely unique individual experience.

We are inexplicably in love with traditions that lie under lenses of our families and our countries. Both of our motherlands float at odds with one another, separated by an ocean of fear and mistrust. Within this tension, we are both horrified and strengthened by the myths. Exotification and fetishization have shaped our lives, and the myths become as vivid and slippery as the goldfish on nowruz. Our adolescence is embedded in the joy and anxiety of language. Rich with symbols, smells, textures and tastes, our shared experiences are pure poetry. We all know the sensations of gracious apologies and tart affection.

- Text by Ani Bradberry & Rex Delafkaran

"Azizam" (2018) shown with Sheida Soleimani's "Sakineh" (2015)

8" x 24" x 3"
Installed at Transformer, Washington, DC, for "Nevermind, Azizam."
http://www.transformerdc.org/exhibitions/overview/exhibition-nevermind-azizam

Entering the room, indistinguishable combinations of saffron, Chanel No. 5 and black tea steep into the senses. Dole out the kisses to every cheek in the room. Catch the occasional salaam and khoshgel. Never quite understood or understanding, never quite the same, the ethnic friend, the American grandchild.

We are our own Others. We are troubled by the simultaneously intimate and unfamiliar facets of our family histories. This identity is defined by its fluctuation and intensely unique individual experience.

We are inexplicably in love with traditions that lie under lenses of our families and our countries. Both of our motherlands float at odds with one another, separated by an ocean of fear and mistrust. Within this tension, we are both horrified and strengthened by the myths. Exotification and fetishization have shaped our lives, and the myths become as vivid and slippery as the goldfish on nowruz. Our adolescence is embedded in the joy and anxiety of language. Rich with symbols, smells, textures and tastes, our shared experiences are pure poetry. We all know the sensations of gracious apologies and tart affection.

- Text by Ani Bradberry & Rex Delafkaran

"Loom" (2017)

Variable height x 4’ x 2.5’
Neon, steel cables, wire, transformer, rubber caps, Persian rug.

Installed at the Washington Project for the Arts, DC

Loom is an architectural response to the limbo of feeling threatened within your home. A Persian rug from my house lies on the floor. Overhead floats a red neon rectangle of the same dimensions. I am Iranian-American, even if I feel as though this part of myself is still developing, and the piece is meant to encourage people who are not under threat to stand in the light and experience the paradox of comfort and discomfort those who are.

This piece is displayed in the exhibition "Now More Than Ever" at the Washington Project for the Arts in Washington, DC.

"Preventative Patrol" (2017)

9' x 21' x 2"
Installed at VisArts, Rockville, MD, for "Cultural Platforms for Resistance."

Preventative Patrol consists of two blue neon tubes that represent the unblinking blue lights on Metropolitan Police Department vehicles in Washington, DC. Former Police Chief Ramsey implemented them after meeting with the Israeli Defense Forces and they are officially an attempt to raise the visibility of the police in communities and deter “would-be criminals.” But the lights remind even innocent residents that they are constantly being watched and are in the presence of heavily armed police forces.

"Preventative Patrol" (2017)

Preventative Patrol consists of two blue neon tubes that represent the unblinking blue lights on Metropolitan Police Department vehicles in Washington, DC. Former Police Chief Ramsey implemented them after meeting with the Israeli Defense Forces and they are officially an attempt to raise the visibility of the police in communities and deter “would-be criminals.” But the lights remind even innocent residents that they are constantly being watched and are in the presence of heavily armed police forces.

"Unit" (2017)

1.5' x 2' x 2'
Argon gas, liquid mercury, glass, wire, soil, plywood, transformer.

Sprouting from soil sourced around the exhibition space, Unit's neon orb floats between dreams and the resolutely material. Shaped by anxiety regarding the shifting climate of our planet, the sculpture probes contemporary coexistence between nature and industry. Illuminating its surroundings in light caused by electric current through argon gas, Unit imagines a new, symbiotic relationship between built and grown material through pulsating color and solemn elements.

"Unit" (2017)

Sprouting from soil sourced around the exhibition space, Unit's neon orb floats between dreams and the resolutely material. Shaped by anxiety regarding the shifting climate of our planet, the sculpture probes contemporary coexistence between nature and industry. Illuminating its surroundings in light caused by electric current through argon gas, Unit imagines a new, symbiotic relationship between built and grown material through pulsating color and solemn elements.

"Loom" (2017)

"Excerpts from Exile" (2016)

18" x 7.5" x 7"
Neon, glass, plywood, transformer.Activated in Transformer, DC in conjunction with Exile Books (Miami) and Printed Matter (NYC)

This interactive sculpture invites visitors to document selections of text pulled from EXILE Books @ Transformer, a curated selection of art books from Printed Matter Inc (NYC) and Exile Books (Miami). In the midst of the selection, the illuminated box prompts visitors to write down a selection of text that affected them during their passing through the gallery space, then deposit them into a light sculpture container.

"Flex" (2016)

Variable height x 12" x 3"
Neon, rope, transformer, wire, metal rings, silk tassels.
Installed at Smith Healing Arts Center, DC

This work is from the Suspension Series: an ongoing project of hanging sculpture using metal rings, neon and silk that function as meditations on the beautiful precariousness of the formation of identity, particularly the female sense of self. The sculptures gently spins with the air flow of the gallery, illuminating the walls with ethereal red and blue neon light and causing ornate shadows and reflections from the metal rings. The effect is at once sensual and utilitarian: a futuristic visualization of our intimate self-understanding.