Ancient art, modern world

Arezoo Zomorrodijou sits at a table in her pottery studio and stares at a formless lump of clay. Wondering what to create, her hands reach out and touch. It is firm, yet soft. It can be cut, shaped, and even spun into virtually anything — Arezoo has even made life-size ceramic clothing. Clay’s possibilities are endless.

As her hands start to pinch and prod she is present, not ruminating on the past or the future. Her thoughts are unfocused as she lets her emotions surface. She gives form to her feelings in the clay, expressing what words cannot.

The clay can handle it.

Arezoo’s best creations happen when she doesn’t have a plan of what she wants to make. When there is no expectation, only feeling. She believes this is the most important element when making art. To put one’s heart on the line and pour all emotions into the creation.

Her pottery studio is filled with ceramic artifacts that carry these emotions. Arezoo and her daughter, Mahtab Roohafza, who goes by Sonia, have created all of the art pieces that adorn Secrets of Clay’swalls. Each work has an experience behind it.

Art of all kinds has long been a vessel for stories. Ceramics, specifically, have been a fact of human expression for a long time. One of the oldest ceramic artifacts is a clay sculpture of a woman discovered in the Czech Republic. It is believed to be 28,000 years old.

Mixing water and soil to form various shapes goes back centuries, thriving across cultures. Around 9,000 BC, clay ceramics were primarily made as containers to hold water and food. They were dried in the sun or fired at low temperatures in simple kilns, then engraved with minimal decorations or basic geometric patterns.

The pottery wheel, created around 3,500 BC, allowed symmetry to be achieved in several directions. Pottery creations become art. Clay statues were found to form animals and religious figures. To this day, pottery remains the most globally recognized type of ceramic art.

Persian pottery, specifically, is distinguishable by its intricate patterns and rich use of colours.

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Early Persian pottery was mostly used for storing grains and liquids, usually undecorated. But as Persian society evolved, pottery became an integral part of the culture, used for ceremonial and burial practices.

Pottery with animals and human figures, dating to 705 BC, has been found in graves. These were bowls with spouts, thought to be used for ritual pourings as an offering to the spiritual world.

In the seventh century AD, the Islamic Empire began its reign over the Arabian Peninsula and beyond. This influenced artistic expression. Symbolism, which could be seen as the worship of a deity other than Allah, or as an imitation of divine creation, was discouraged. Non-figurative art, now known as the Arabesque or Persian style, emerged and is still going strong. Colours including turquoise, lapis lazuli blue, cream, and clear were embraced. Designs were mostly of florals, birds, and Arabic poetry and inscriptions, including verses from the Qur’an.

Born and raised in Iran, this rich history of colours and symbolism is part of the inspiration for Arezoo’s own pottery. She often draws on a prominent Persian poet, Omar Khayyam.

“If we were born in the same century, we would have been married,” Arezoo says, smiling with her eyes.

“Sure, Arezoo,” her daughter Sonia says, laughing.

Their studio features many handmade plates and bowls with verses by Omar Khayyam. But Khayyam is not Arezoo’s only love.

In the studio is a sculpture of three heads made by Arezoo. One of Omar Khayyam, one of Michelangelo, and one of Leonardo da Vinci.

She turns the sculpture slowly in her hands, rotating it to reveal each of her great inspirations. She marvels at the work of these artists, sinking into Khayyam’s poetry and the paintings of the two Europeans. What Arezoo treasures most is the way their art longs for liberation. This is a common theme in her own art: the search for freedom.

Arezoo doesn’t consider herself to be religious, but she is spiritual. She believes we are one with nature, and to nature we will return at the end of our lives.

Her art features a piece called Meditation. It depicts a woman in solitude, her arms reaching out to the light around her. This creation is inspired by Arezoo learning to be kind and at peace with herself. Without inner peace, she says, it is difficult to remain harmonious with the world.

“The waves go back and forth, the sun rises and sets, and life flows naturally,” she says. “You just have to flow with it.”

If we surrender to the flow of life in uncertain moments, it will carry us and help guide our way. Arezoo is a woman who became a single mom in a country that frowns upon divorce, who moved across the world, and has now opened up her own business. Embracing the flow of life, she says, is what happened to her.

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After her separation, Arezoo moved to the north of Iran with her two children, Sonia and Saman. Away from the noise of the capital city, Tehran, they enjoyed a calmer lifestyle.

They move into a beautiful home in the middle of a forest. Around them was only the greenery of the forest, and the sounds of the natural world. Their nearest neighbours could hardly be seen through the trees.

As a newly single mother of two, Arezoo anxiously fidgeted. She tried to figure out how to remain present for her children, while also being the sole provider of their household. Wanting to find an answer, she took a walk in the surrounding forest. The trees were bright orange and red. She stepped on the fallen leaves, which crackled under her footsteps. She walked to the river nearby, as it splashed along the rocks. The wind blew shivers down her arms.

Looking out onto the water, Arezoo prayed for a sign to help guide her way. As her mind stilled, she heard the leaves rustling on the trees. She knew not to expect an immediate answer. She simply set the intention to the universe, hoping it will find her soon enough.

A few days later, it did.

Her cousin, an artist herself, was getting ready to showcase her work at an art exhibition. Arezoo went to visit and stayed for three nights, helping her cousin prepare. As she helped clean paint brushes and add finishing touches, Arezoo temporarily forgot about her problems. Fully absorbed in the task in front of her, the anxious thoughts paused. She felt her shoulders relax.

At a time when she was just trying to get through each day, those three days felt like an escape. A breath of fresh air. She realized that from then on she could sell her own art. Arezoo started contacting gift shops and began selling her work. She made mostly decorative ceramics.

This sustained her. Making art gave her an escape from the harsh new reality of being a single mom. She got to live in the safe space of her imagination. In this little corner of her inner world, Arezoo felt held.

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This practice guided her for years. No matter what was happening in her life, she could always confide in art.

This became especially important after moving to Canada with her children in 2013. They all started facing what many immigrants experience, the challenge of building a new life while still carrying deep ties to the one they left behind. Much of their family remains in Iran, leaving a part of their hearts on the other side of the world.

When tragedy unfolds in their home country, the distance makes it even more painful, as they feel unable to help. This was felt especially after Sept. 13, 2022, when Mahsa Jina Amini was stopped by the morality police for not wearing her hijab properly. After being hit on the head several times, Amini died. She was 22.

Arezoo and Sonia were deeply shaken. Yet instead of recoiling into anguish, they decided to bring people together. They started hosting workshops on tile-making and mixed media in the common area of their apartment building. Twice a week for two months, Arezoo and Sonia created a space where people could take their pain and release it into art.

They felt lighter, free from suffering, if only briefly.

This is also when Arezoo focused on her ceramic clothing. Made entirely of clay, these life-size pieces emerged from grief for the passing of loved ones. Arezoo calls it the missing body concept, the heartbreak that comes from having loved ones die, and then seeing their clothes without a body.

A sweater left on the couch. A pair of socks on the floor.

The ceramic material symbolizes how suddenly death can occur. The pieces are hard like a shell, but if dropped shatter instantly. They reflect how we can be alive one moment and completely gone the next. The contradiction of being and not being — Arezoo wrestles with this tension.

Yet she is no longer afraid.  She believes that no one ever truly dies, but is returned to the universe. We are made of its materials, she says. When we die, we go back to the soil of the Earth. Arezoo believes we may come back not as who we were, but as something new.

Arezoo realized that ceramic art could not only express emotions, but help others process their grief. So she decided to take a courageous step and open her first studio, on the Bedford Highway. Originally, its main purpose was to provide Arezoo with a space to work on her own art. It was meant to only host occasional workshops and private teachings. But when her daughter, Sonia, joined the business, it quickly grew into something much bigger.

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As a teenager, Sonia would come home every day at 5 p.m. and kick Arezoo and Saman out of the dining room. A huge, gold-framed mirror was there, and after a long day Sonia couldn’t wait to express herself with movement. She would turn on Persian music and feel the rhythm of the beat on the soles of her feet. Then, in front of the mirror, she would dance.

Growing up with an artistic mother, art was as essential as breathing. It was a way of life. Surrounded by paintings and pottery, Sonia dabbled with clay, acting, writing, and dancing.

So much dancing.

Arezoo, Sonia and Saman filled their home with celebration for every milestone. In their circumstances, with some nights having to scrimp on food or electricity, it was necessary to focus on what they had. Dancing at home with friends and toasting to every little victory became traditions — something their house was known for. Friends knew that if they needed cheering up, they should head to the house in the forest.

“Our childhood was filled with joy and playfulness, but she also raised us to have confidence and not shy away from challenges,” Sonia says. “I’m brave because of my mother.”

Arezoo shakes her head softly, pushing the compliment away.

“Sonia says I was a good mom, but really they were good kids,” she says. “I didn’t get to have a fun and playful childhood, so I got to live that through my kids. They helped me as much as I helped them.”

At the heart of their relationship was admiration and respect. Now, when both are adults, their business partnership is anchored by these qualities.

When Sonia entered her adult years she grew not only as an artist, but into a businesswoman. Owning her own restaurant for a few years in Halifax, she had a knack for marketing. After moving on from the restaurant, Sonia saw the untapped potential in her mother’s studio. Arezoo wanted it mostly private and at a smaller location, but Sonia envisioned a bigger space. Arezoo had taught Sonia not to shy away from challenges; now Sonia was challenging her mother to broaden her vision for Secrets of Clay.

Arezoo, being a sensitive soul, can find a crowded space overwhelming. Her heartbeat accelerates; she can’t seem to catch her breath. So Sonia makes sure never to book too many people at once. Arezoo works best one-on-one. Her passion is creating and teaching art. She enjoys spending her time making intricate pieces, or teaching others the healing art of clay.

Sonia’s passion is expanding the business. She is always considering ways to advertise, market and promote. While Sonia also finds comfort in creating, she likes the rush of growing and reaching for more.

Arezoo and Sonia each bring distinct strengths to the studio. When needed, they lean on each other for support.

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“With clay, you need to be gentle and careful,” Arezoo says to the woman making a mug. “Take your time. Making art needs patience. Okay, my friend?” 

The customer smiles, nods her head, and relaxes her shoulders.

Arezoo can tell when customers are tensed up. It shows in the way they handle the clay. Some customers, with brows furrowed and shoulders up to their ears, mold and pinch harshly. This is when Arezoo likes to remind them to let go of their problems. To unclench the jaw, and stay present with the clay.

In the studio there are two small couches, a coffee bar, and several square tables. On each table is a bouquet of flowers. Natural sunlight soaks the room and its tall plants. On the walls hang framed collages and ceramic figurines. An oval mirror reflects the afternoon light onto shelves filled with plates and chalky-white mugs.

Sonia made sure to place a large table, big enough to seat eight, in front of the mirror. After the pandemic, she noticed that people often sat a few tables apart, rarely interacting. This table encourages a sense of community again, giving a space to connect.

Clay forgives, says Sonia.

With painting, making a mistake means having to paint over it. With pottery, a mistake means rerouting the vision, forming the clay into something new. It means having faith in the process and letting go of expectations.

It means trusting that what wants to be created will be.

About the author

Sarah El-Chaar

Sarah is in the One-Year Bachelor of Journalism program at the University of King's College. She has an undergraduate degree in Criminology and...