Banks of the river Zangu near Yerevan 1930

Curator: We’re now in front of Martiros Sarian’s "Banks of the river Zangu near Yerevan," painted circa 1930. The oil on canvas captures a slice of Armenian life. Editor: Wow, it’s got this wonderful, slightly faded postcard feeling about it, doesn’t it? Like a dream you’re trying to hold onto. The buildings kind of melt into the hillside. Curator: Precisely. Sarian's modernist interpretation blends elements of orientalism and impressionist landscapes. Note the careful organization of shapes—cubistic houses and trees climbing up along the river. Editor: The brushstrokes are so visible, almost tactile. And the colors, that earthy palette, yet with pops of vivid green—it’s the feeling of a place as much as a literal depiction, you know? Like memory. The palette is almost muted in sections. I'm getting this really intense hit of nostalgia. Curator: Indeed. His application of color creates a flattened space. The geometry of the architecture is simplified. This draws our focus toward the patterns of light and shadow, abstracting what would be perceived three-dimensionally. Editor: It almost feels theatrical. Those little figures at the bottom, pulling the cart—it's as though they're playing their parts in some ancient drama. And look at the arches! There's a kind of magic to seeing them framed like that by the more muted surroundings. There’s a deep peace, I think, with perhaps a melancholic note hanging beneath the surface, almost invisible, yet tangible. Curator: The composition evokes both serenity and the underlying structures that order life, or art, for that matter. Sarian manipulates scale to bring an immersive sense to the ordinary scenes of Yerevan, lending a unique vision of modernism to Armenian cityscape paintings. Editor: It’s strange how he makes it so solid and dreamy at the same time. A beautiful little poem. Curator: A summation of the interplay between line, color and light, a very unique interpretation, wouldn't you say?