Khostinsky pomegranates, plums, pitches 1963

Curator: Here we have "Khostinsky pomegranates, plums, pitches" painted in 1963 by Mariam Aslamazian. She rendered this still life using oil paints and tempera. What are your initial thoughts on it? Editor: It strikes me as bold and abundant, even bursting with ripeness. The composition, though simple, exudes a kind of energetic joy through its color choices. The plums' dark purple shadows create a playful contrast with the bright yellows and reds of the other fruits. Curator: Absolutely. Pomegranates, plums, pitches — the combination itself seems quite deliberate, given the symbolic richness of each fruit. Pomegranates, especially, are almost universal emblems of prosperity and fertility, found across numerous cultures. Do you see any socio-political meaning in this particular selection and composition? Editor: Given Aslamazian's Armenian background and the Soviet context of 1963, I see it potentially as an expression of abundance, perhaps subtly emphasizing self-sufficiency and celebrating the rich agricultural heritage. Curator: I agree; and how fascinating that the plums, known in many traditions for warding off evil spirits, stand together with the pomegranate – often representing life’s sacredness and resurrection. Do you see how this juxtaposition may relate to lived experiences, collective memory? Editor: Indeed. There's a resilience suggested. This isn't just about food; it's about cultural sustenance, maybe even quiet resistance. Realism in the style offered an unvarnished image that resonated on both everyday and socio-political planes. The simple domestic setting then acts as an intentional anchor – a push back against forced migration narratives. Curator: You know, the brushwork—those decisive strokes that capture the form of each fruit, they almost evoke strength. As if declaring "here is something solid, something real," defying erasure. Editor: Precisely, and Aslamazian positions her paintings with deep intent. These cultural images not only offer comfort to displaced individuals but serve as enduring historical documentation. Each luscious curve acts as an archive, preserving unspoken testimonies for forthcoming eras. Curator: What a fruitful discussion indeed. The piece prompts a renewed perspective towards not only the still life genre, but the quiet visual assertions by artists under oppressive political rule. Editor: It definitely leaves one thinking about the complex relationship between visual simplicity, social history, and memory, doesn't it? The artist deftly weaves together everyday pleasures with significant political meaning, which enriches the canvas—and in turn, us.