Sedigheh Fathollahzadeh is a painter and Ph.D. student in Special Education at Purdue University, where she serves as a research assistant. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts and two Master’s degrees in Fine Arts and Art Education.
Over her lifetime, she has devoted herself to creating art, leading art workshops, and providing art education across diverse settings, including educational institutions, universities, and the private sector. She has showcased her work in more than 30 exhibitions worldwide, with several solo exhibitions highlighting her artistic vision.
Beyond her artistic practice, her research focuses on leveraging assistive technology to enhance learning experiences for students with disabilities. She also explores community-based art projects and the role of artificial intelligence in fostering inclusive education. Additionally, she investigates how art-based initiatives can be integrated into emerging media to challenge systemic inequalities, spark public dialogue, and empower marginalized communities.
Silent Echoes
In my artistic journey, I have always been drawn to the human experience—its raw emotions, contradictions, and the silent struggles that define our existence. My portraits each carry an untold story, a fleeting expression of suffering, foolishness, or reluctant joy.
Faces emerged from my imagination, sorrowful, suffering, yet sometimes laughing at their own absurdity. When I moved to the United States, I encountered the same suffering, but it wore a different face. Pain was still present, but it was painted over with vibrant colors, concealed behind smiles, hidden within open spaces that were not truly open. My first exhibition in the U.S., “American Beauty”, explored this paradox, how suffering persists, yet appears more polished, more acceptable, and more silent.
This new body of work continues that exploration. The figures remain imaginary, yet they are shaped by the world I now observe. They live within their own spaces, confined not by physical walls but by emotional distance. They no longer speak, and no longer share. Their suffering is quiet, disguised beneath expressions of contentment, masked behind the illusion of happiness.
Through these paintings, I invite viewers to look beyond the surface and question the spaces we inhabit. How much of our suffering is hidden? How often do we smile to mask what we can no longer express? And in a world that offers the illusion of freedom, how much space do we truly have to be ourselves?
