By Tabitha Morgan.

Nasser Ovissi is a man who is very obviously in the grip of a love affair. His eyes sparkle and his conversation returns again and again to the object of his passion: the horse. Images of horses recur in the scores of pictures produced by this prolific Iranian artist: flying horses, weeping horses, horses in love, asleep, at war and in triumph, fantasy horses of myth and allegory. Ovissi admits that throughout his work the horse serves as a vehicle for his own emotions. "I express myself and my feelings through my horses, especially the Arab horse with its beautiful, big eyes."

Ovissi describes his most recent collection as a homage to "this beautiful animal, to which we owe so much" His pictures are an attempt to repay the debt of gratitude that he believes civilisation owes to the horse and its vital contribution to the great empires of Egypt, Babylon and Persia. "For at least 10,000 years the horse helped humans in the development of culture and civilisation, in peace and in war. Suddenly it has disappeared. It is like our parents becoming old, we know that one day they will die and we cannot do anything."

Ironically Ovissi's work owes much of its cultural diversity to his own parents' reluctance to allow him to study art as a teenager in Teheran in the 1950s. "They told me I would die of hunger if I became an artist," he explains. Instead, in what proved to be an inspired career move, the aspiring artist decided to study law and politics at Teheran University with a view to becoming a diplomat. This, he reasoned - with all the optimism of youth - would bring him into contact with the work of great European artists like Rembrandt and Van Gogh. "I thought if I could just see their work I would be able to paint in their style and become famous."

His diplomatic career took him to Rome and then to Madrid, where he was brought face to face with the legacy of Moorish Spain and its dramatic blend of Islamic and Christian cultural influences. "I found a bridge between East and West due to the presence of Islam in Spain for 700 years." He points to the evolution of Spanish flamenco music, with its roots in the traditional songs sung by Persian labourers, and to the great 15th century Persian lute player Zaryab, who, from his home in Toledo, came to be regarded throughout Spain as the father of flamenco.

Ovissi's own painting is characterised by just this kind of cultural fusion, combining the flat perspective and fantasy landscape of a 20th -century artist like Chagall with the detailed patterns and decorative surfaces of traditional Persian miniatures. While his work is undoubtedly stamped with his own individual style, Ovissi freely admits that much of it draws on traditional cultural motifs, tapping into the rich vein of his ancient Persian heritage, not only in its form but also its content. His depiction of 'Horse and Girl in Love' is a heady mixture of vibrant colour, sensuous curves and rich decorative detail. But it also resonates with allusions to the tenth century Persian epic poem, 'Shahnameh', itself a potent symbol of Iranian cultural identity, spanning 1,000 years of Persian history and countless acts of heroism and betrayal. During the course of the narrative the life of the legendary hero Rustam is repeatedly saved by the intervention of his brave and loyal horse Rakhsh.

Ovissi's brave and loving animals have surely the most expressive faces of any to be found in art, reminiscent in their potent, eloquent gazes of the anguished, distorted features of Picasso's horses. But in contrast to Picasso's more challenging work, Ovissi is adamant that his work is not intended to provoke, or to be cerebrally demanding. Like the true diplomat he once was, he aims instead to reconcile, to bring harmony and tranquility to the viewer. "There is enough violation through the mass media, I want to give people a little piece of relaxation and hope, like an armchair that you can relax in."

Ovissi's aspirations seem extremely modest in the context of an artistic career that has spanned more than 40 years, during which his pictures have been displayed in over a dozen countries and exhibited alongside artists of the stature of Picasso, Dali and Chagall. His working life has covered a period of momentous political change in his own country. With the overthrow of the shah, Ovissi found himself out of a job - but none of this turmoil is reflected in his paintings. The almond-eyed women and their devoted horses continue to stare out from his canvases, the occupants of a timeless, romantic landscape.

It is this ethereal, transcendent quality which accounts for much of the work's appeal. It is accessible, it doesn't demand too much of us but invites us to share in the artist's vision of a joyous, life-affirming world. Ovissi himself takes pride in recounting the story of a couple in Japan who bought one of his paintings and sit in front of it every morning. "It gives them pleasure," he tells me, "and hope to live". And that, in essence, is why Ovissi wants us to share in his very personal love affair.