On September 22, 2025, the “Pyunik” Development Center in downtown Yerevan opened its doors to Cyclicity, the first solo exhibition in Armenia of artist Monika Avetisyan — a homecoming expressed in color. Though she lives in Vladikavkaz and is a member of the Union of Artists of Russia, her roots are deeply tied to the lands of Sassoun, Moush and Aparan. Armenian, she said, has always been the language of her identity.
“In our home, Armenian was always spoken, Armenian music was played and our culture and traditions were preserved. Russian was necessary for integration, but it never replaced my identity,” she told the Weekly.
Biography of Monika Avetisyan Monika Avetisyan during her exhibition
Avetisyan’s artistic path began early. Gymnastics came first, then art classes, then years of study: art school, college and the Art and Graphics Department of the Pedagogical College in Vladikavkaz, followed by the North Ossetian State Pedagogical Institute — where she not only mastered technique but earned the credentials to teach. Now a painter and illustrator, she has already received first-place awards in several Armenian art competitions.
Her first solo exhibition, Far from Homeland (Вдали от Родины), held in Krasnodar, explored patriotism and longing — what she described as “the spiritual essence of the Armenian soul.” Cyclicality brings that same essence home.
Armenians of Vladikavkaz, canvas, acrylic, collage, 40×50 cm, 2025 Portrait of Childhood, paper, watercolor, 59×84 cm, 2025 Renaissance, paper, ink, gold leaf, 80×60 cm, 2025 Light, paper, mixed media, 29×42 cm, 2025
On the gallery walls, 35 works — pen, ink, acrylic and collage — trace the arc of her journey. “My paintings tell who I am, where I come from and what I feel about my homeland,” she explained.
Art, faith and identity
For Avetisyan, art has become a form of prayer. In her works, she combines the precision of graphic art with the subtlety of spiritual symbolism. This approach was developed during her time in the World Union of Armenian Church Youth (WUACY), where priests and deacons introduced her to scripture.
“From that moment, I began to speak about God through colors,” she told the Weekly.
Crosses, doves, mountains, pomegranates, duduks — even Armenian letters — appear as quiet liturgies within her compositions. With support from the Arno Babajanyan Cultural Foundation, she established a studio that functions as both a workshop and a spiritual sanctuary.
Avetisyan has taught art since she was 19. For her, creating and sharing are inseparable. “When I teach children, I relive the same emotions of my very first lines as a child.”
Engagement, canvas, acrylic, 70×100 cm, 2025 Monika Avetisyan, Sophia Mkrtchyan, founding director of the Pyunik Development Center and one of Pyunik’s art historians Monika Avetisyan, Deacon Arman and Father Vazgen The Sewn Code, paper, mixed media, 80×55 cm, 2024
Artsakh: A broken and unbroken love
Artsakh holds a special place in the artist’s heart. In 2019, she visited for the first time as part of a pilgrimage program.
“We stayed in tents in Shushi. Those days were some of the purest and most profound of my life.
I fell in love with Artsakh. When we later lost it, it felt like a heavy stone had fallen and shattered.
But I believe it is possible to gather the fragments and restore them. Maybe in doing so, we can also heal our pain,” she reflected.
It is prayer, she said, that keeps hope alive. Both in Armenia and in Krasnodar, her exhibitions open with two priests — one praying in Armenian, the other in Russian. “For me, prayer is not a ritual; it’s breath. When I pray, I can create.”
Veil, paper, gel pen, 28×28 cm, 2017 Smoke, paper, gel pen, gouache, 70×50 cm, 2021 Kochari Dance, paper, ink, 42×29 cm, 2021 URAR, paper, gouache, 54×40 cm, 2019
“The Road to Lachin”: When a painting becomes a bridge
A highlight of Avetisyan’s artistic career was her collaboration with Russian-Armenian director Edward Ghazaryan on his short film, The Road to Lachin, which strengthened her belief in the power of art as a bridge. The film’s official poster is her work.
“That painting was not just an illustration — it was an inner confession,” she stated. “It depicts the meeting of two young people on a road where war divides, but dialogue can unite.”
We also spoke with the film’s screenwriter, who noted that the project was born out of a desire to show that even in the midst of war, human connection remains possible — through empathy, art and honesty.
The film follows Arsen and Fati — an Armenian and an Azerbaijani youth — who encounter each other after a car accident on a mountain road and, while waiting for help, speak honestly about loss, pain and humanity.
“Ghazaryan told me that the film doesn’t take sides; it’s about the need for dialogue, even when it hurts. I found that idea profoundly beautiful,” Avetisyan explained.
“That’s why, in the poster, I tried to depict not the war, but the sound of peace that exists within silence.”
The Road to Lachin, canvas print, 80×60 cm, 2024 Bishop Pargev, paper, watercolor, 100×80 cm, 2025
The stories in the strokes
The exhibition spans more than a decade of work. One of its most notable pieces is Bishop Pargev, a tribute to the beloved Primate of Artsakh, Pargev Martirosyan.
“It was grand both in size and in meaning. I was afraid that people wouldn’t understand what I was trying to convey, but they felt exactly what I wanted them to,” the artist shared. “Father Pargev once told me something I’ve carried in my heart ever since: ‘Do not be afraid to show your weaknesses.’ Those words became my life motto.”
Avetisyan’s personal favorite, The Path, depicts the artist’s favorite slippers, a cup of coffee, a pomegranate and Armenian lettering. During a difficult time, she wrote directly onto the canvas: I can do everything; God is with me. “Those words became my source of strength — they are printed right on the painting.”
The Path, canvas, acrylic, collage, 50×70 cm, 2025 The Highlander, paper, gel pen, gouache, 55×60 cm, 2024
In another piece, The Highlanders, youth riders are cast against the Caucasus peaks. “That work reflects my inner world: strength, endurance and faith.”
There is a special section in the exhibition that Avetisyan calls her “network,” which reflects her ongoing conversation with God — branches like nerves, pomegranates like pulses, gold and turquoise symbolizing scripture and spirit. “There are episodes from my life, and even works by my students,” she explained.
To teach, to share, to live in color
Today, Avetisyan continues to teach children through a cultural program supported by her foundation — free lessons rooted in Armenian culture. The alphabet becomes art, each letter transforms into symbols, and fairy tales and music become inspiration.
“I speak the language I feel in — Armenian,” the artist shared. “When I create, everything becomes peace, prayer and silence. That is my life.”
Monika Avetisyan’s story shows that art can sometimes express what words cannot. Her canvases — woven from threads of prayer, memory and faith — reach back to ancestors and forward to the future, offering a quiet but unshakeable faith.
“I am a person of love,” she said. “I love the world I live in, and I want my paintings to speak of the things I cannot express in words.”
Follow Monika Avetisyan’s creative world on Instagram.
