34 Dec 18th-Dec 24th, 2025 phoenixnewtimes.com PHOENIX NEW TIMES | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | testimonial, a man describes earning points on his “good immigrant” punch card. “Ten more incidents and I get a free soda,” he says. In another scene, another man talks about his dreams. “I used to dream in my native language,” he says. “Now there are subtitles.” To the left of the TULI welcome area is the Self-Help Library, a collection of self- help books that Saleem has created and expanded since 2021. Some titles include “The Healing Power of Cake: Proven Recipes to Counter Feelings of Undeniable, Ever-Present Otherness” and “Fitting In: How to Deal with Being the Only Person of Color in Any Situation.” Like most self-help books, they begin with vaguely encouraging bromides, but it soon breaks down into a single motto (“I am a good person and I deserve good things”) repeated until the lines blur and go crooked. After about 200 pages, the motto breaks down into a scream. “You’re seeing the theme that things begin to break down over time,” Saleem says. “You think it starts off right, but then it goes off the rails.” In the main exhibit space are several pieces, many of which are interactive, at numbered stations. Ephemera from the world of TULI hang on the walls. There are posters with generic mountain scenes in the background and, in the foreground, messages from TULI with the approval from the shadowy Bureau of Regulation and Oversight (BRO) which oversees TULI: “Help us help you help us.” “You belong here. We just need a little more proof.” “Thank you for participating in your own improvement.” About BRO, Saleem says, “You try to come up with these things that are totally bonkers, that can never happen. And after I had come up with BRO, out comes DOGE.” Near the hallway to an elevator hangs a bulletin board that may, at first glance appear not to be part of the exhibit at all. Upon closer inspection, though, you see a notice for cancelation of an office potluck (“due to ongoing concern regarding acceptable spice levels”), a directive to return all borrowed coping mechanisms by the end of the day and a notice of fridge cleanout (in accordance with Smell Neutrality Policy 14.6). To the left of the hallway hangs the Immigrant Clock, marking the inexorable passage of time — and of your life — with loud ticks at each jerky jump of the second hand, though there are no minute or hour hands. “It tells you that time is passing and you can do nothing about it,” Saleem says of the clock, which tracks “the weight of time going by.” He adds that time is the under- lying theme of the exhibit. “The biggest thing, among many things, taken away from you as an immigrant is your time. When you’re not in control of things, you just have to wait,” he says. Saleem’s TULI is a dystopian bureau- cracy with many details that strike close to home in 2025 America. The closer you look at the exhibit, the more interesting and subversive it appears. Read the full article on phoenixnew- times.com. Artistic Enigma The Unrequited Love Institute plunges viewers into a dystopian bureaucracy. BY ERIC VANDERWALL W hen you, a recent immigrant to America, enter The Unrequited Love Institute (TULI), you must first take a number at the welcome counter and wait your turn for “recalibration.” The expected wait time for your number — which is 432 — is 59 years and change. “Thank you for your continued silence,” reads the prompt. “Would you like to expe- dite your application?” If you click to expe- dite, the Institute replies immediately and helpfully: “Expedited Processing is currently unavailable.” The Institute is not here to assist you, but to “refine” you and to ensure that you are, as the video and brochure explain, “recali- brated for seamless integration into this great nation.” The Institute of Unrequited Love is an immersive installation created by Phoenix artist Safwat Saleem, winner of the 2024 Scult Family Artist Award, and part of the Arizona Artist Awards exhibition at Phoenix Art Museum that continues through Jan. 25. Work by his fellow winners Omar Sotoa and Elizabeth Z. Pineda are also on display. Saleem’s exhibit brings together previous works as well as TULI pieces created for the current exhibition. “Unrequited love is what any immigrant feels toward the country,” Saleem says. “I want to be loved back because I love this country. I love democracy. I value things I did not have in Pakistan, and that’s why I value what America has to offer. But then America does not necessarily love immi- grants back.” Next to the TULI ticket counter and brochure display is a media stand with a shelf of VHS tapes, a VCR and an old TV playing a TULI video. The image is grainy. Two doctors in white lab coats, played by local actors, explain in euphemistic and ominous jargon things such as “cultural deodorization,” an “Identity Neutralization Matrix” and “softening accent spikes and neutralizing visible heritage.” Saleem describes the TULI video’s aesthetic as a “’90s late-night infomercial kind of vibe. ... They’re trying to sell you something, but the production quality is so poor — do they even believe in this stuff?” The informational segments are broken up by testimonials and ads in which forced enthusiasm and menacing language create tension with one another. In one ▼ Arts & Culture
