Ararat in clouds 1923

Editor: This is Martiros Sarian's "Ararat in Clouds," painted in 1923 using oil on canvas. The way the landscape fades into shades of blue makes it feel distant and almost dreamlike. What strikes you when you look at this painting? Curator: Well, first, it's a dance of memory, isn't it? Ararat, that majestic peak, veiled in mist—it’s not just a mountain; it's a longing. Sarian paints it as though he's recalling a beloved song, each brushstroke a note from the past. And look how he plays with perspective; are we standing on solid ground, or are we floating among those very clouds? What do you make of the colors, the blues against those touches of earthy greens? Editor: I see the contrast, but I'm also drawn to the repetition. It feels almost like the mountain is echoing across the canvas. Is that a reflection of something deeper? Curator: Perhaps it's an echo of the Armenian spirit itself – resilient, enduring, a melody that refuses to be silenced. Don't you feel that whisper of defiance amidst all that blue tranquility? It's a bit of a paradox, and it invites me to ask: does the mountain loom large as a beacon of hope, or as a reminder of what was lost? What are your thoughts? Editor: I didn't see it that way before, but now I think it can be both. It holds so much emotion. Curator: Indeed, it’s the kind of piece that transforms with each viewing. What seemed like a landscape becomes a mirror.