No Regret
KAMARAN ADLE IN FOCUS
Iran’s foremost living legend in photography.
"9 am of one the days of Jun 1979 in the Evin prison…long hours of hunger, stress, insomnia and loneliness…. Waiting with covered eyes, having no clue who would shoot into my head… in those severe moments of suspension, I reviewed my life. At age 12, when I decided to become a photographer… to discovered everywhere and everything…I remembered the 20th of August 1968 in Paris. The day I decided to choose the odour of the Persian bazaars, seas and the workers' body odour upon perfume of models posing for the camera. So, I returned to my ancient land, Iran. Thinking with myself that this was my own choice. At least, I had lived with satisfaction in the last 40 years…"
He says:
“After the Islamic revolution in 1979, many executions occurred. In less than three months, 4500 people related to the king’s Darbar got executed, but who knows about the accurate number? 100,000? 500,000? A million people? So why did I remain in Iran? Only because of my decision on 20th August 1968, when the Soviet Union soldiers invaded Czechoslovakia. That day, I felt that a lot was happening in this world, that fashion photography seemed so ridiculous in front of it. So, I decided to return to Iran, where ‘happenings’ happen a lot. I came back to Iran, nervous, as I wasn’t sure if I made the right decision.”
A few months after the Islamic revolution, Adle was arrested in his office for the crime of serving the royal family and the Pahlavi Darbar. After spending horrifying days in prison, the shadow of execution disappears from him with the help of some connections behind the curtain. However, it took nearly ten years before he was completely free from the charges and being called to court.
In Adle’s words:
“Where do I begin? Should I write that I am from a family of...? You can see all of that on my website. So, what must I write? Of feelings? You may or may not know that I have worked on all aspects of Photography, and in all scales, from the Minx camera, whose film is in millimetres, to film sizes up to 4 or 5 inches in width. As an assistant to Roughen in Paris, I also worked with 30x40cm films. Despite all that, I feel exhilarated working with a 135 mm camera amongst people, where I submerge in the moment and take snapshots. Many believe that I am an architectural photographer; I am also that, however, my preference is to look at Architecture with emotions. I have written before that Photography is neither a technology, technique, or art. Photography is a feeling. One does not sense it until one is a photographer.” Born in 1941, he went to elementary school in Tehran and his high school years were split between Tehran and France. After receiving his diploma from the Technical College of Photography in France, he began work in the large format photographic printing department at Hamele, Europe's largest developing and printing laboratories. Six months with Hamele, he became assistant to Jack Rouchon in fashion photography. In 1968, at the invitation of the newly established National Iranian Radio and Television Organization, he returned to Tehran to head the photography team. He simultaneously began teaching at the Cinema and Television School for Higher Education. The cinema school stint lasted a year, but he continued with the National Iranian Television Organization. In 1971, the School for Higher Education students went on a widespread strike and demanded Adle's return. He juggled both positions till his resignation from the Organization in March 1974. From 1975 until the Islamic Revolution, he worked with the offices of the ex-Queen of Iran, photographing carpet museums, Reza Abbasi, the Museum of Contemporary Art, the Kerman Industrial Museum, the Rasht Museum and various photography work for publications, including seven volumes on the Implementation of Design in Iranian Tile Works, Passage through Chahar Mahal & Bakhtiyari province, and The Contemporary Architecture of Iran.
“I do not know how photographers who work in remote areas spend their nights. It’s tough, lonely nights in the deserts, mountains, and villages that are not even named on the maps. In the fall of 1970, I worked close to the Iraqi border in the Zagros Mountains of Kurdistan province. At night, a man invited me to drink. I accepted. I finished a cold vodka until I went drunk. I do not remember, and I do not know how that night passed. But it was terrific. I was drunk every night from the next day for over 50 years. Alcohol was my only friend in these years. I also love photography while drunk. 1976, I photographed the Kerman Museum of Visual Arts at 1 AM, all drunk over a bet. Did I win the bet? I might. I do not remember. “
