Inside the Distorted World of Reihaneh Hosseini: Contemporary Art, Portraiture, and Emotional Expression
- Selfless Art Gallery
- 7 days ago
- 5 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
In this candid interview with contemporary figurative artist Reihaneh Hosseini, we dive into the emotional and psychological layers that shape her raw and unapologetic visual language. Known for her bold use of distortion and fearless command of color, Hosseini’s portraiture doesn’t just catch the eye—it confronts it. Her work grapples with themes of resilience, vulnerability, and rebellion, all deeply rooted in her lived experience. Growing up in Tehran under restrictive conditions, Hosseini turned internal conflict into creative fuel, forging an artistic voice that is both deeply personal and politically charged. Her paintings challenge societal expectations, dismantle polished narratives, and invite viewers into the unfiltered, often uncomfortable truths of human connection. This is more than an exploration of art—it’s a conversation about survival, defiance, and the power of storytelling through paint.
Q: Since your work often features intimate moments, let’s kick things off with something a little personal—if you were to paint the most awkward situation you’ve ever been in, what would that look like?
A: I would paint two people engaged in a conversation. One of them is caught in a moment of panic—his hands and face sweating heavily, words stuck on his tongue, fear clearly visible on his face, and he’s surprised by what he just said. Facing him is someone who’s silently judging, with a sarcastic smirk, eyes squinting in a way that says, “I know everything—and you’re clearly an idiot.” This scene probably continues in another painting, showing the next angle of this moment. This question made me curious about how that conversation might unfold…
Q: Tell us a bit about your background and how it shapes your approach to art.
A: Art has always been my escape—my way to breathe and survive. I owe my life to it. Though I sometimes struggle with my practice, painting has given me everything. I grew up in a strict religious household in Tehran, where nearly everything was forbidden, especially for girls. Drawing was the only freedom I had—one my mother occasionally encouraged, believing it
aligned with their beliefs, unlike music or other banned expressions. Since childhood, I’ve drawn large, exaggerated eyes—maybe as protest, maybe a silent scream. For me, the eye is a symbol of resistance. In a world where the female body is controlled, these eyes refuse to be censored—they emerge, raw and untamed. Those eyes still appear in my work, each carrying a new gaze, a fresh way of seeing the world. When I move beyond realism, shaping figures through feeling rather than rules, I create a space where they exist freely—beyond politics, systems, or cultural constraints.
After Dinner, 2021 | Oil on Canvas | 145x160cm | photo credit: © kunst-dokumentation
Q: Color plays a significant role in your work—how do you use it to express the emotional state of your figures?
A: That’s true. I usually don’t use naturalistic skin tones in my work. They bore me. Realistic painting, or anything based on how things actually look in the outside world, doesn’t interest me at all—I don’t enjoy it.
I don’t follow any strict rules when choosing colors, and I don’t really like assigning specific meanings to them. I pick my colors right in the moment, based entirely on how I feel. For me, painting is like an ongoing dialogue. I always feel like there’s someone standing on the other side of the canvas, and we’re having a conversation—a back-and-forth, like ping-pong. Sometimes it feels more like a philosophical argument, and sometimes we even fight.
Each portrait is so individual and personal—it tells me what color it needs, based on what it wants to express. I’m not the one deciding. They speak for themselves. And many times, they don’t even explain why they made the choices they did. Maybe I realize it later. Or maybe it just stays as a question, unanswered.
Q: Your distorted representations are striking—what impact do you hope they have on how viewers perceive the human experience?
A: I never really think about trying to make an impact on the viewer’s perception. But I do enjoy a few things when they happen—like breaking beliefs, shattering clichés, and disrupting the trust people have in themselves and the world around them. I love surprising them. I love giving them a sense of unease. One second of doubt. One second of shock. A little laugh and a sudden “why?”—if my work can trigger that in someone, that’s enough for me. That moment alone is satisfying.
What happens when we sleep,2020 | Oil on Canvas | 145x160cm | photo credit: © kunst-dokumentation
Q: In what ways does exaggerating certain features of the body support your exploration of resilience?
A: I often depict deformed bodies in my paintings—especially women’s—pushing them far from their natural form. Distorting the body is one of the most freeing parts of my process; it lets me rewrite, not just represent. Through exaggeration, deformation, and even ugliness, I reclaim a gaze long shaped by outside forces.
Many of my portraits have a grotesque quality, allowing me to explore deeper emotions and meanings. I frequently paint nude figures and have always aimed to challenge patriarchy—something I’m deeply opposed to and exhausted by. Every day, I try to resist it, even in small ways. My current series exaggerates heads and torsos to embody strength and resistance. These portraits reflect my own sense of presence, endurance, and lived experience.
Q: A recurring theme in your work is the exploration of intimate moments between men and women, as seen in works like What Happens When We Sleep, Planned Sex, and We Watch TV. What draws you to these deeply personal experiences, and how do they shape the storytelling in your art?
A: Those works you mentioned focus on scenes that look totally normal and mundane on the surface, but underneath, there’s a lot of emotional complexity—feeling, doubt, hidden violence, attachment. What pulls me toward those moments comes from my personal experiences. Simple moments, but ones that feel familiar and shared—things many of us have gone through.
For me, documenting those scenes isn’t just storytelling—it’s a form of sharing. And at the same time, an invitation to stop and re-examine things we’ve become numb to because they repeat so much. Humor also plays a role in how I show these moments—not as an escape from reality, but as a tool to create distance, so we can look more clearly.
In the past, especially in my older works, I used to explore my relationships with others, often with a playful or ironic tone—and through that process, I was trying to understand myself better. But in my recent paintings—especially in my solo show at Moosey Gallery—I’ve shifted inward. The “other” is still present, but less important. Now I’m more focused on how I perceive myself, how the world reflects back onto me, and on including creatures I deeply love into my work.
Q: Looking ahead, what’s next for you? What are you most excited about?
A: Right now, I’m working on a new series, and this process feels really exciting to me. Every time I step into the studio, it brings a new surprise. I don’t really know where it’s going yet, but that not-knowing is what makes it so alive. Also, I’ve got a few group shows coming up later this year…
Through our conversation with Reihaneh Hosseini', it’s clear that her work isn’t just about the figures she paints—it’s about the emotional states they embody and the systems they challenge. Her unique approach to figurative expressionism and emotional storytelling makes her a standout voice in contemporary art. As she continues to push boundaries and explore the power of distorted portraiture, her upcoming series and exhibitions promise to delve even deeper into the intersections of identity, freedom, and form. Stay tuned—Reihaneh Hosseini's art demands to be seen, felt, and questioned.
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