Paasha Motamedi (b. 1990, Del Mar, California) is an Iranian-Indonesian-American artist and filmmaker who lives and works in Los Angeles. His father's family is Iranian and his mother is Indonesian. He grew up on Coronado Island, where his mother taught him the flavors of Persian cooking in a kitchen straight out of Under the Tuscan Sun while the Food Network blared Emeril Live. In 2012 he graduated from NYU's Gallatin School of Individualized Study with a concentration in the economic and social history of costume and fashion. That training still guides his choice of materials.
A series of ten short films is in production and will be listed here as each one is finished.
The final two days of the artist's grandfather's life. Opa dies before the film ends.
The film is not screening online. Programmers, festivals and press are welcome to request a link.
After 2015, the practice began again here. The camera slowed down first.
These paintings begin with Persian-style rugs that were made in factories. I apply oil stick and acrylic to them, along with saffron, black lime, pomegranate, sabzi, sand, and fire. Objects like these are orientalism priced for the mass market, and I treat that consumer fetish as my subject, alongside migration and the hybrid identity of third-culture kids.
Personal reportage on diaspora, belonging, and autochthony, grown out of street photography.
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Persian cuisine in an "Under the Tuscan Sun" kitchen; the Food Network is blasting Emeril Live, as my mom teaches me about the Iranian palette where, here, butter and fenugreek are trellised by pink and black peppercorn as a treacly backbone is endowed by oud and ambergris. The room spins. Gourmand would be the lazy way to describe this savory, unctuous tandem of memory and opulence.
The perfumes are composed to evoke the dishes of that kitchen, gheimeh and beef rendang among them, and they accompany the rug paintings as an invisible part of the work.
I wrote before I made images. Features, artist profiles, interviews, and criticism since 2012, mostly about people who make things in Los Angeles. The poems have their own room.
Longer work, fiction and a feature screenplay, is in development.
Exhibitions I have organized in Los Angeles since 2019, with the artists who were in them, and the residencies I have held.
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Editorial and portrait photography on assignment, for publications and for people.
view photographsPhotographic documentation of paintings and works on paper, for artists, galleries, and estates.
the serviceLive poems typed to order for holiday parties, brand activations, weddings, and conferences. Each guest leaves with the only copy.
how it worksFeatures, interviews, and criticism on commission, alongside the poetry.
I photograph people in their own space: at home, at work, wherever they are most themselves. Assignments for publications are quoted on request. Portrait sessions in Los Angeles run $150 to $250 depending on length, with 35mm film as an add-on, and you leave with a set of finished pictures.
A guest sits down across from me and offers a name, a worry, a joke, or nothing at all. A few minutes later they stand up holding the only copy of a poem that did not exist before they sat down. Holiday parties, brand activations, weddings, conferences.
I arrive early with a manual typewriter and a stack of card stock, and take the seat you have set for me.
I ask what the poem should be about. Most people say a person. Some say the open bar. Either works.
People gather and read over shoulders. A line forms, and the line is part of the evening.
No carbon, no photo unless they take one. The usual reaction is happy tears. I write longer than most.
Typed on a Smith-Corona Silent for guests who gave me a name and a minute. First names only. Each card opens to its transcription.
to name a few
For large rooms I bring another typewriter poet I trust, with their own machine, so nobody waits long. Two tables, two lines, twice the poems.
Your event name, date, or logo stamped on every card before it leaves the table. The poem is the keepsake; the stamp says where it came from.
The practice
I can usually tell what someone needs before they give me a topic.
People have tattooed these poems on their bodies and read them aloud as wedding vows. One of them went to space.
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Send the date, the city, and a rough head count. I reply within a day with availability and the rate sheet. Two-hour minimum; travel outside Los Angeles quoted up front.
Photographic documentation of paintings and works on paper, for artists, galleries, and estates: the full work square to the frame, plus details at working resolution.
That page isn't here. Everything is reachable from the sections below.
