“She thinks I’m a sinner” is a a multi-channel video installation based on a previous ongoing project featuring a sculptural piece "hair-bone", which is made of plaster and real hair. This collection of videos are all assembled together to form a bigger picture exploring the concepts of identity despite the constricting boundaries that can arise from one’s cultural context.
We spoke with Aylin to discuss her installation as well as her background as an Iranian artist now based in Ottawa, Canada, what being a recipient of the Tontine grant means to her, and the deeper meaning behind her practice, happening March 7th & 8th at Pique spring edition '25.
“My artistic practice carries the spirit of those small acts of resistance...”
Read the full interview below, and don’t miss roster other artists presenting at Pique spring edition on March 7 and 8, 2025. Advance tickets available here.
Tell us about yourself and your artistic practice.
I came to Canada from Iran in the fall of 2022 with my partner and completed my MFA at uOttawa. I hold a BA in Visual Arts & Visual Communication Design from Eastern Mediterranean University in North Cyprus. Back in Iran, I worked as a graphic designer and video maker for social media.
When I arrived in Ottawa, I wanted to explore my identity and origins. Being far from home and MFA program gave me a unique opportunity to study my cultural, political, and familial history from a bird’s-eye view. The physical distance from my roots created space for reflection, allowing me to navigate my identity in an artistic way.
As an Iranian woman, I have experienced gender discrimination since the first day I went to school. I feel like I became a "woman" at the age of seven—when I had to wear my first hijab, stop playing with boys in the street, and limit my interactions with men outside of my immediate family. Like every other girl in my country, I found ways to bend the rules, carving out moments of freedom wherever possible. But it was always a struggle—at home, in school, or in public—against patriarchal norms and laws. Sometimes that defiance meant slipping off my scarf in the classroom, secretly having a boyfriend, riding a bike in a quiet street, or challenging teachers for an entire session about why we might not want to get married or have children.
My artistic practice carries the spirit of those small acts of resistance, using subtle humor to explore the ways we navigate restrictions and claim space for ourselves.
What have been some unexpected differences between working in the arts in Iran and in Canada?
One of the most surprising differences has been the availability of grants, art residencies, and exhibition opportunities specifically for women. Coming from Tehran, a much larger city than Ottawa, I’ve found the art community here to be more approachable. Lastly, the high cost of art supplies and the difficulty of finding affordable studio spaces in Canada has been a challenge, whereas in Iran, these resources are more accessible and affordable. Beyond the differences, what was new for me is the emphasis on decolonization in artistic practices and how art schools and galleries actively work towards applying these policies—although there’s still progress to be made.
The work you plan to present at Pique features an element called “hair-bone”. Could you offer some history or context from where it comes from?
hair-bone is a sculpture I created using real black hair and plaster—a combination of delicate hair and rigid plaster. The contrast in both material and color symbolize strength and fragility, as well as the intersection of life and death. As an Iranian woman, I come from a history where hair holds deep political, religious, and cultural significance. In the fall of 2022, Mahsa Amini was killed for not fully adhering to the mandatory hijab—for her hair. I was here [in Ottawa] when it happened. While young women in Iran took to the streets, protesting for justice and their fundamental right to freedom, chanting "Woman, Life, Freedom," I was walking safely on these streets, carrying a sense of guilt. Many of those courageous women and protesters were brutally killed or raped—on the streets, in detention centers—violently silenced to remind them of their so-called weakness, of the rules they were expected to obey without question. But history has shown us that women resist. Women fight back. And despite the oppression, they continue their struggle for justice and equality.
You were selected from a call for submissions presented with Bourse Tontine based on the theme “Inspire Inclusion”. Can you tell us what this theme means to you, and how it is reflected in your project?
Being selected for Bourse Tontine, as a newcomer, a person of color, and someone who is not yet a permanent resident, is itself an act of inclusion. It signifies an openness to diverse voices and perspectives in the Canadian art community.
Thematically, my work confronts the oppression women face in making choices about their own bodies and appearance. As a Middle Eastern woman, I use this piece to highlight the cultural restrictions on self-expression that persist in my background. By sharing this narrative, I hope to create solidarity across different lived experiences, bringing together voices in the fight for gender equity and inclusion. Through this collective perspective, my project aims to inspire broader conversations on women's rights, advocating for the visibility and empowerment of marginalized identities in the ongoing struggle for freedom and justice.