Solace of Lovers. Trost der Liebenden. Helena Perena

      Esfahan, Azadegan Teahouse, Chah Haj Mirza, 2017 / Esfahan, Azadegan Teehaus, Chah Haj Mirza, 2017

      At the opposite end is the Qeysarriyeh Gate, the entrance to the Grand Bazaar, which meanders along as a dense labyrinth of twisting alleys, backyards, crossways, entrances and exits without any recognisable end. Moped riders suddenly emerge from crooked side alleys that open up to the outside, then weave their elastic way past passers-by, traders and loads transported on small handcarts, disappearing with a splutter behind lengths of fabric and wooden frames. On bales of cloth at the edge of the alley, an old man dozes under female mannequins dressed in chadors; in a tiny cage above a spice shop, a canary sings. The voices of the muezzins respond, starting up one after the other as they call to late afternoon prayer. A wave of smells from cook-shops, herbal scents and musty spice aromas, smoke from a charcoal fire, with a sooty teapot quietly simmering in the embers. With nowhere for tired feet to rest on the bumpy cobblestones, you balance between the flotsam of things that treacherously seek to block your path and unpredictable encounters from the half-light that make you miss your step. And yet it is a joyful stumbling, a stagger and forward swoop, which comes from a restlessness, a desire to reach and recognise the goal.