Nazli Abbaspour

Nazli Abbaspour was born in 1975 in Tehran, Iran. She graduated with a degree in Photography from the Faculty of Art and Architecture at Azad University, Tehran, in 2001.

She has participated in numerous solo and group exhibitions in Iran and internationally, including Festival La Gacilly-Baden Photo 2024, Paris Photo 2023, La Gacilly Photo Festival 2023, Paris Photo 2022, CER Modern Museum, Ankara, Turkey (2016), Tbilisi Photo Festival, Georgia (2012), and TMOCA – Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art (2007).

She has been a member of WEAD ARTISTS (Women Eco Artists Dialog) since 2020.

From 2018 she worked with Silk Road Gallery for five years.

In 2025 she participated in an artist residency at Le Phare à Lucioles, France, a fully funded international program focusing on research and artistic production.

In 2025 she was accepted into the Paducah Art Alliance Residency, USA.

Her works have been published in the book Breathing Space by Silk Road Gallery in collaboration with Éditions Textuel, Paris, and Thames & Hudson, London.

She has also published a book entitled Eye, as part of a pocket-book collection—each volume created by a different artist—published by Mahriz Publishing House, Tehran.

She wrote in her artist statement:

I think people are pieces of forgotten memories that need to be remembered to give meaning to everyone’s life. I was looking for these missing pieces in my works; The pieces that depicted a part of me like a mirror or in the face of social and political issues around me, gave a new meaning to the adventures we had gone through. In this constant encounter with photographs which are only the embodiment of memories, the “past” presented itself to me like a lost happiness, and in each exploration of my family photo series, I came to the conclusion that what I call “life” has long been like we have been denied a precious gift. Searching for the coordinates of this withheld gift was sometimes associated with mourning, sometimes with joy, and sometimes with despair about the future that as it passes, it is proved to me that it is not clear. What stronger excuse than this “absence of hope” compels me for fear of forgetting to dig deeper into the memories of our past in order to pull out the remnants of the identity that I miss so much in the ruins and interpret it constantly? It can be said that my works try to show regret for the lost glory.