Violet Sassooni
Approximately six years before the start of the Iranian Revolution in the 1970s, Violet Sassooni’s husband Saeed moved the family from Tehran to Shiraz, the city of poetry, literature, wine and flowers and home to the legendary 13th and 14th century poets Hafez and Saadi.
A chemical engineer by trade, Saeed opened a foam processing factory with his cousins. Although their business was very successful, the looming presence of an Islamic theocracy meant that as Jews they were often treated very poorly.
A few months before the Revolution began in 1979, Saeed asked Violet to pack a few small bags for three days to accompany him on a business trip back to Tehran with their two young daughters Tannaz and Torreh. Upon their arrival, it immediately became clear that Iran was in the final stages of undergoing massive social turmoil and economic transformation and they were not safe.
Saeed recommended that Violet immediately take the kids and go to Israel, where they both had family. She was understandably confused and reluctant, but Saeed made it clear that plane tickets were available at that moment that might not be there the following day. With just the bags she had packed for their short trip and a small carpet that her in-laws were keeping for her (which she placed at the bottom of her suitcase), Violet and her daughters boarded one of the few available El Al flights leaving from Tehran to Israel, never to return to their home.
Upon their arrival at the airport in Tel Aviv, she discovered that the suitcase was lost. She went to inquire about its location at the lost and found, and was met with a cool indifference. They told her she was expecting too much and to “go ask Khomeini” about the location of her bag. Although she was grateful to be safely in the Jewish homeland, the words stung. The suitcase was eventually found and returned to her along with the carpet, which has remained with the family to this day.
After 2 weeks in Israel, they made their way to Los Angeles. Although Violet had been unable to bring any of the family’s personal possessions with her when she fled, Saeed, who had stayed behind to run his factory, started shipping family heirlooms to her little by little, including his books and additional carpets (a mainstay in Persian homes). The only things he could not send were the many items of silver that they had received as part of Violet’s dowry for their wedding, but he left it with relatives who stayed behind. As conditions worsened, Saeed fled 2 1/2 years later, making his way to Turkey, then Israel and eventually to the US.
When one of Violet’s last relatives left Iran, they asked her what she wanted done with the silver. A Muslim friend who she had known since childhood offered to hold on to the items for safe keeping. Over the next 25 years, the items were slowly and carefully shipped out of Iran and made their way back to Violet. These precious family heirlooms are all safely back with Violet today, a memory of happier times from her past and a keepsake for Tannaz, Torreh, and future generations of the Sassooni family.
From illustrator Sophie Herxheimer
Firstly, what a privilege to hear the stories of Avishai and Violet. I found each story immensely touching in different ways. Thanks to both of you, and to Juliet and Reboot for inviting me to listen and respond.
I am interested in objects as holders of history and memory, also objects as metaphors for ourselves. My priority was to get to the essence of the objects the narrators spoke of and try to put them in the context of the place from which they came, and explore the real meaning of the object. In terms of my approach, I have used the emotional power of paint, with colour and brushwork, to convey love, energy and movement.
Violet wove her story as if it was going to be a plain carpet, and yet as it developed we were shown so many colours, so many carefully stitched elements and details of experience, including the type of shock and upheaval that nobody could prepare for. When she recounted the detail of her old friend and neighbour, a Muslim woman whom she had known all her life, carefully packing and sending the exquisite silverware that Violet had been given as a dowry, in different visitors’ suitcases over the many decades, I found it moving, and humbling. Two women, being friends, acted with more real power and humanity than any government that happened to dictate their whereabouts, even at great personal risk. A solid silver fruit bowl is made a lot more valuable when it has the patina of such love, kindness and respect. I used the ultramarine of mosque tiles, and the communality of tea to paint this heroic story of exile and friendship, and magic carpets from middle eastern tales to transport the beautiful delights of the region in and out of memory, ownership, imagination.