No homosexuals in iran
LAURENCE RASTI’S PHOTOS EXPLORE IDENTITY AND PERSECUTION.
Who are you and what do you do? I’m Laurence, I’m 29 and I live in Geneva. My parents are Iranian, but I was born in Switzerland. This dual culture stirred a lot of questions for me and I’m trying to answer them through photography.
Tell us about the origin of this series, There Are No Homosexuals in Iran. As a student, I was very interested in notions of identity and gender, fuelled by the fact I went to Iran for the holidays every summer. Their rules around freedom of expression, physical appearance and beauty codes began to fascinate me and revolt me at the same time. In my research, I came to the problem of homosexuality in Iran. It affects the freedom for people to be, and seemed important to talk about.
What kinds of difficulties do LGBTQI people face in Iran? Homosexuality is not accepted, and is even punishable by death. If a person is attracted to someone of the same sex, their own gender is not considered the right one, or they have to ‘heal’. Except, gender is not related to sexual identity, and ‘becoming’ a trans person just to protect the man-plus-woman structure is illogical. Two solutions are then offered: to live hidden in fear of being discovered, or flee the country.
Where did you take these images? Denizli is a town in Turkey where most of the Iranian LGBTQI refugees are waiting in the hope of getting a visa for a third country. Hundreds have been in limbo for years now. Unfortunately, though most people I photographed were to go to Canada or the USA to start a new life without fear, many are still blocked because of the Muslim ban and other restrictions.
Was everyone you approached happy to take part in the series? No – everyone had to deal with their own daily problems. As a gay Iranian refugee in Turkey, you don’t get any financial support; you’re far from your family and friends; and you have to wait years before being processed. So, psychologically, it’s not easy. We also had to trust each other, and that can take time. For me, it was important to understand what they’d been through to be able to create work with as little stereotyping as possible. Plus, anonymity was still the best protection for most people. Besides fear of the government, there was fear of their families, who often didn’t know the reason for their fleeing.
Why did you choose to include festive elements like balloons and flowers? The subjects didn’t want to appear victimised, but to simply share their love. It also creates a strong paradox between the grave reality of the situation and this fantasy picture.
What would you like people to take away from your photos? Most important is to understand that no one can choose who they are or who they love. Homosexuality is still punishable in many countries, and we see more and more homophobia in the West, even though we thought we were moving forward. So I wish, as my subjects taught me, that people will see the love that exists behind their struggles, and the hope they have to be able to live freely.
Where can we see your work? On Instagram at @laurencerasti or in the book There Are No Homosexuals in Iran, published by Edition Patrick Frey.