Iranian Art and Civilization in the Early Islamic Centuries (1st–3rd Hijri)

The first centuries of Islam mark one of the most transformative chapters in the history of Iranian art and civilization. Between the 7th and 9th centuries CE, Iran did not abandon its artistic traditions but re-cast them under a new religious and cultural framework. This period reveals both continuity and innovation: the endurance of ancient forms alongside the birth of new artistic languages shaped by Islamic belief and practice.

Continuity and Transformation

The emergence of Islam reshaped political and spiritual life across Iran. Yet, rather than severing ties with the past, artists and architects carried forward the knowledge of the Sasanian (ساسانی) world. Domes, iwans, vaulted halls, and decorative systems from the earlier empire were not discarded; they were adapted and given new meaning. Palaces and fire temples, once dedicated to kings and Zoroastrian rites, became mosques — spaces where a new spiritual rhythm was inscribed.

This adaptation did not erase the past. It was a transformation: a re-imagining of Iranian heritage in dialogue with a new universal faith.

The Mosque as Center of Life

The mosque became the nucleus of urban and spiritual life, functioning as a space for prayer, governance, education, and community. Early examples such as the Tārīkhāneh Mosque in Damghan, the village mosque of Fahraj near Yazd, and the congregational mosques of Shush, Siraf, and Isfahan illustrate the fusion of Persian building traditions with Islamic needs.

Initially hypostyle in form, with columned halls and open courtyards, these mosques show how the spatial logic of the Sasanian (ساسانی) era adapted seamlessly to the demands of Islamic ritual life.

At the same time, the madrasa emerged as a new institution. Its open courtyard, domed chambers, and four iwans exemplified Iran’s ability to combine architecture, pedagogy, and spirituality into one unified form.

The Khorasani Style and the Sacred Dome

By the 2nd and 3rd centuries Hijri, Iranian builders developed what scholars call the Khorasani style — simple, geometric, and monumental. Two elements defined this style: the mihrab and the dome.

The dome, inherited from the fire temples of the Sasanian (ساسانی) world, was reborn as a symbol of heaven in Islam. The mausoleum of Ismail Samani in Bukhara is a masterpiece of this era, establishing the model for later domed tombs. Its brick geometry reveals a harmony between mathematics and metaphysics, between material structure and spiritual ascent.

Materials and Ornament

Brick became the favored medium of this era. Stronger than wood, lighter and more versatile than stone, brick allowed for intricate decorative programs. Surfaces could be articulated with rhythmic patterns, symbolic motifs, and later, inscriptions. Architecture thus became a canvas for geometry, light, and sacred meaning.

Ceramics and the Renewal of Everyday Beauty

Ceramic art flourished with unprecedented vitality. While Sasanian (ساسانی) green and brown glazes persisted, new experiments created luster-painted ware that gleamed like precious metals. These vessels elevated the mundane into the realm of beauty — everyday objects imbued with symbolic and aesthetic refinement.

Deep blues, emerald greens, and radiant golds became the palette of a new Iranian art. Through ceramics, the philosophy of beauty entered the rhythms of daily life.

Painting, Murals, and Metalwork

Though manuscript illumination was not yet widespread, painting traditions persisted in wall murals and ceramic decoration. The murals of Nishapur stand as testimony to the survival of figurative art alongside Islamic abstraction. These works bridge the memory of Sasanian (ساسانی) visual culture with the emerging Islamic idiom.

Metalwork continued with vigor. Silver and gilded vessels, decorated with inscriptions and vegetal motifs, echoed the grandeur of the past while reflecting new cultural values.

Calligraphy: The Stroke as Spirit

Among all the arts of this formative period, calligraphy emerged as the most significant. The angular precision of Kufic script dominated Qur’anic manuscripts, architectural inscriptions, textiles, and ceramics. For the first time in Iranian history, writing itself became the primary vehicle of ornament.

This was not mere decoration: it was the embodiment of divine word through visual rhythm. Letters carried geometry, proportion, and balance; their negative spaces were as meaningful as their strokes. Calligraphy became the art of unity — where language, spirituality, and form converged.

By the 3rd century Hijri, the foundations were laid for the evolution of more fluid scripts, guided by the principles of proportion later codified by Ibn Muqla. Yet even in its early Kufic form, calligraphy revealed an eternal principle: the stroke (سو / Sau) is not only writing, but movement, presence, and energy.

My Own Dialogue with Calligraphy

As an artist working in contemporary Los Angeles, I often return to this principle. The stroke (سو / Sau) in calligraphy — the primal gesture of line across surface — is the same energy I feel when spray paint touches a wall. Both acts transform emptiness into inscription, silence into rhythm.

In my murals, the geometry of Kufic, the flow of Nasta‘liq, and the weight of Thuluth live on as compositional structures. In graffiti, I find the same rebellion and sanctity that Iranian calligraphers once embodied: the courage to inscribe identity onto the public surface.

The movement of the stroke (سو / Sau) is my constant inspiration. It is not limited to words; it is a philosophy of gesture, an eternal current that connects the manuscripts of Bukhara to the alleyways of Tehran, to the walls of Los Angeles where I now paint.

Calligraphy is not only heritage — it is movement, breath, and spirit. It reminds me that art survives by being written again and again, each stroke carrying the memory of the past and the vision of the future.

Closing Reflection

The early Islamic centuries in Iran reveal a powerful truth: art endures through transformation. The Sasanian (ساسانی) dome became the Islamic dome; ceramic vessels became golden through glaze; writing became image. For me, this is not distant history but a living archive.

In every mural I paint, in every digital design I create, I carry this lesson: that the stroke (سو / Sau) — whether ink, chisel, or spray — is always the heartbeat of art.