Nairy Shahinian is a film director exploring imagery as a process of discovery through experimental filmmaking and cross-disciplinary visual practice. Born in 1984 to an Armenian family in Damascus, Syria, and now based in Berlin, her work draws from her late father, photographer Vahé Shahinian, and has evolved through key collaborations like her 2015 partnership with filmmaker Ammar al-Beik into long-term projects blending photography, moving image, and interactive forms.
1- Born in 1984 to an Armenian family in Damascus, Syria, how did your early experiences in that cultural and geopolitical context shape your initial approach to imagery as a tool for learning and discovery in your directing?
Since my early upbringing, a sense of paradox and multidimensionality has been a defining presence in my life. Growing up within the Armenian community while maintaining deep connections with diverse cultures outside of it gave me a unique lens through which to view the world. I think it’s a perspective shared by many of us who grow up at an intersection of cultures. My world was shaped by a global network of family and the artists who frequently visited our home from Armenia and beyond. These interactions were my first lessons in diversity; they taught me to understand and hold space for a multitude of perspectives, bridging the gap between the world at large and my own local reality.
In my youth, I was exposed to the wonders of my surroundings—its nature, history, and diversity—through photography trips with my father all over Syria. Yet, this beauty sat in constant tension with a daily life marked by geopolitical limitations and rigid social dogma. While photography equipment served as my childhood 'toys,' my true sanctuary was the corner of my grandparents' balcony, which my father had transformed into a darkroom. It was there, amidst the shadows, photography magazines, lenses, camera shutters, tripods, brushes, photo papers, film developing tanks and changing bags, that I developed an early passion for discovery and experimentation.
Later, as I began studying photography and working professionally with my father, that world of play became systematic and structured, which briefly dampened my initial excitement. However, with time, by following my curiosity and a desire to understand how our lives are intertwined, along with a passion for different art forms, I began linking these still fragments of life together. This journey of investigation eventually led me from the still frame to the fluid form of the moving image.
https://www.nairyshahinian.com/
2- Your late father, photographer Vahé Shahinian, clearly left a profound mark on your work—can you describe a specific lesson or technique from him that still informs your experimental filmmaking and cross-disciplinary visual practice today?
Surely my father has left a mark on my work, as he was the reason I was introduced to photography and the arts, along with everything they bring with them. I can't recall a specific lesson, as my father was not a talkative man. He wasn't one to offer clear guidance or explain things directly. He shared a belief common across the SWANA region: that one learns best through the quiet act of watching and observing. I remember him mentioning that when I first joined him to work at his photo laboratory and wanted to learn more about C-printing. I also remember him making a similar comment when I wanted to pick up the guitar. He said something along the lines of, ‘it’s better to learn through listening.' At the time, I found that a very odd perspective, as I didn’t understand what he actually meant; as I said, he wasn’t a talkative man in that sense. I was definitely an observer and a listener from a very young age, so his words weren’t really lessons for me then. I was also a quick learner, and I can’t really say that I understood those traits in me at that point, let alone name them, but today, I understand the point he was trying to make and the message he was trying to deliver. It was probably an attempt to help me develop my intuition.
3-What drew you to Berlin as a base for your directing, and how has the city's creative ecosystem influenced the evolution of your experimental films since moving there?
I came to Berlin for the sake of creative freedom, choosing it as a base for my broader artistic practice rather than for filmmaking alone. Since my first visit in 2013, the city’s energy has captivated me; everything here felt strangely familiar from the start. After several visits over the years, I finally moved here in 2024 to learn German, aiming to collaborate with local professionals and further my development as an artist.
Technically, I am still settling in—expanding my network and beginning to navigate new collaborations. While I haven’t yet had extensive experience working within the city, it has already become much easier to exchange ideas and discuss projects. Berlin truly appreciates and respects the creative process and the work that goes into it. Berliners are ready to exchange different ideas, experiment and collaborate—a level of openness that was largely missing in my life before. I have several films shot between 2019 and 2020 that I haven't yet had the chance to produce; already, this ecosystem is revealing new ways to bring those projects to life. While nothing is definitive just yet, I can finally see the beginning of a path forward.
4- Your 2015 collaboration with filmmaker Ammar al-Beik marked a pivotal shift toward long-term film projects—looking back, what surprised you most about how that partnership accelerated your own voice as a director?
To give a clearer picture of the type of the collaboration, I'd like to start with a bit of context. I met filmmaker Ammar al-Beik in 2008, when I first started working at Ayyam Gallery in Damascus. Over time, we developed a genuine friendship. I assisted him whenever he needed or requested, and he provided invaluable artistic support and guidance as I was entering the field of fine arts. During that time, I assisted on several of his films and projects, including the film Kaleidoscope in 2015. We were creatively synchronized; he encouraged me to pursue filmmaking after noticing my sensitivity to the smaller details—from images and sounds to everything in between.
He was likely the first person to voice these observations about my perspective out loud, both professionally and as a friend, which is something I truly appreciated. Ultimately, what stood out to me was how our interaction, combined with learning about his own journey, affirmed my direction and brought my own voice as a filmmaker into focus much sooner than I expected.
5- Your films merge photography, moving image, and interactive forms in innovative ways—could you walk us through the creative process behind one of your recent long-term projects, from conception to realization?
I’d like to begin with a small clarification: while I have previously worked on video essays incorporating photography and the moving image, one of my long-term projects specifically integrated these mediums in a more interactive way. Titled #SpreadLoveNotCorona_VIRUS, the project was born during the COVID-19 lockdown in Yerevan, shortly after I moved into a new family apartment.
The work consists of roughly 2,500 experimental digital pinhole photographs, created daily over a year using a consistent camera and lens paired with a handmade paper filter. On this fragile surface, I drew heart-shaped 'love viruses,' imagining them as a gentle contagion—spreading like the virus itself, but through tenderness rather than fear. This filter dissolved every familiar rule of exposure; the camera’s light meter went blind, turning each frame into an intuitive negotiation with light, chance, and the unknown. Over time, the filter softened and peeled, creating unpredictable, organic forms that merged street photography with conceptual experimentation.
The work moves between the earthly and the spiritual, exploring belonging, ancestry, crisis, and ethics in times of global pressure. Throughout that year, the images traced my encounters with nature, animals, strangers, and the city. At one point, the process became directly interactive: I offered my camera to passersby on the streets of Yerevan, inviting them to experiment. These exchanges became shared lessons and moments of genuine connection. The project also includes video works woven into this daily rhythm, and I used Instagram as its primary home to share the journey from the start. The cycle began in March 2020 and concluded in February 2021—ending just before I contracted COVID-19 myself, completing the project in an unexpected, personal way.
The following text is my final reflection on the project. Additional works can be viewed in the Art Projects section of my website www.nairyshahinian.com
A gateway to send and receive…
A heart-shaped virus, made with the hope that love might spread across the world.
A year of seeing and recording through a pinhole-like lens, through a handmade filter.
Arriving in new spaces…
Space… the neighborhood…
Space… the street…
Space… the park…
Space… animals…
Space… the city…
Space… people…
Then comes time…
And seasons…
Connections deepening — inside and outside…
Nature… Earth… Solar System… Milky Way… Universe…
Seeking understanding… tracing history… moving through chaos…
A wish to end discrimination… racism… war… corruption… greed…
♥ #SpreadLoveNotCorona_VIRUS ♥
A reminder of existence — and coexistence.
♥♥♥
10 Colors Pen https://www.instagram.com/tv/BzIA4z5IyWa/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA%3D%3D
6- As a director influenced by photography who has expanded into experimental filmmaking, how do you navigate the tensions or synergies between still and moving images in your cross-disciplinary visual practice?
I find that the direction often reveals itself; the topic naturally navigates its own way toward either the still or the moving image. It depends entirely on what I’m working on and what needs to be highlighted in that moment. For me, it isn’t a matter of rigid planning; it is usually a momentary, instinctive action that I then follow and develop.
Conscious Behaviours https://www.instagram.com/tv/CeJywT8Ddhm/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
7- In an era of digital overload, how do you use imagery in your films to foster genuine discovery for both yourself and the viewer, especially drawing from your cross-cultural perspective?
Imagery has been my primary mode of communication since childhood; it is my most natural way of connecting with the world. Today’s digital pace often moves so quickly that even profound topics—politics, society, culture, war, or even spirituality—are often filtered through what is 'trendy' or popular for a fleeting moment. While this accessibility is a gift, it also creates a surface that can be difficult to see past. Yet, the core of how our world functions remains unchanged, both in its fundamental truths and in the systems we have constructed.
In my opinion, what truly makes a difference is the sense of genuine connection conveyed and the shared humanity evoked through an image. I look for the universal human experience within the subjects I highlight, often through a conceptual lens, even when they reflect my own life or immediate surroundings. I use the camera as a tool to challenge the digital pace, slowing it down to allow the viewer to linger on the raw, unpolished details that reveal our shared reality. By breaking traditional technical rules, I find a sense of excitement and anticipation that reminds me of my early days shooting with film. After all, we created our cultures just as we created our languages—and beneath them lies the same human core. If one is willing to dig deeper, it becomes clear that our needs and longings are essentially the same, regardless of our history or where we are located on the globe.
Do You Trust Yourself? https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cgrlm3zDCuN/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
8- What’s one challenge you've faced in developing interactive or hybrid film forms as a director, and how has overcoming it pushed the boundaries of your experimental filmmaking practice?
At this stage of my practice, I often face the challenges of limited access to specialized equipment and the lack of time and resources required to refine a work to industry-standard 'perfection.' However, overcoming these obstacles has led me to embrace a certain aesthetics of urgency. I have learned to prioritize the immediate necessity of producing the work over technical mastery, focusing on the raw truth of the moment rather than the polish of its execution.
9- Your film was selected for a Liftoff Network session—what key element of its experimental approach to imagery and discovery do you think resonated most with the selectors, and how did that recognition impact your cross-disciplinary practice?
I truly cannot say what resonated most with the selectors—in fact, I would love to receive some feedback on that myself! As I mentioned, I had created video essays before, but Homage To Sergei Parajanov was the first work I officially released and called a 'film.' I didn’t expect immediate recognition for it, and seeing the beautiful support from those around me as a consequence was moving. However, being selected as 'Filmmaker of the Week' based on our online network feedback sessions and being granted professional access to the hub was a major turning point. It provided the motivation I needed to continue this path and take bolder steps toward filmmaking.
https://endertalon.blogspot.com/2024/12/interviews-with-clinton-r.html