HODA AFSHAR

Afterimage by Marie Sjøvold:

Hoda Afshar, In Turn, 2023.

When you asked me to choose just one image, it was difficult. I see so many images all the time, especially through social media, that my mind feels both full and empty at the same time. But there's one image I've only encountered on social media that has stuck with me. Every time I see it, I feel compelled to linger on it and return to it, both visually and because of its content.

In my memory, I had merged two of the photographer's images. One depicts three women braiding each other's hair, and the other shows a woman holding another's braid. Somehow, in my mind, they've fused into a single image. It's fascinating how our memory can absorb so many images that they blur and transform into something new.

Without knowing anything about the photographer or the context of the work, my initial associations were with my own childhood. I remembered a scene from Anne + Jørgen = Sant, where one girl cuts off another's braid—an incredibly dramatic moment. There was something so vulnerable about the braid being held. Hair carries many associations: it's free, intimate, and personal, often tied to identity. Cutting hair can feel like severing part of your own history.

There was something subtle yet political about the image for me, and upon closer inspection, I learned more about the Iranian photographer Afshar and the image's explicit political context, which made it even more powerful. It's stayed with me for so long because of that. The image's visual simplicity and poetic nature become even more impactful when you understand it's connected to the feminist uprising in Iran in 2022, following the death of Mahsa Jina Amini. That connection to real-world events makes you reflect on your own life and privileges.

What makes this picture so incredible is how it captures a moment of solidarity with such a powerful, political message, yet still resonates with something deeply personal that I believe everyone can relate to. It's an impressive fusion of the political and the personal.

Afterimage is an ekphrastic series about that one image you see when you close your eyes, the one still lingering in your mind. We invite artists and writers to reflect on an image they can't shake. This column has been a part of Objektiv since our very first issue, originally titled Sinnbilde in Norwegian. As the sea of images continues to swell, the series explores which visuals linger and take root in today's endless stream - much like a song that plays on repeat in your head. Whether it's an image glimpsed on a billboard, a portrait in a newspaper, a family photo from an album or an Instagram reel, we're interested in those fleeting moments that stay with you and refuse to let go.