‘This is where I breathe’: Gohar Petrosyan’s life in Shirak, between clay and canvas

2026-02-26 - 15:54

​In Hatsik, a village in Armenia’s Shirak region where winters are unforgiving and silence settles deep, Gohar Petrosyan shapes earth and color into something urgent and alive. For her, art is an instinct, a means for survival and a lifelong dialogue with her roots. ​Gohar’s story begins with a memory often retold by her mother: it was a quiet moment that would come to define everything. “I was two years old,” Gohar recalls. “To keep me quiet so she could finish the housework, my mother would hand me paper and a pen. One day, she looked over in surprise and saw that I hadn’t just scribbled lines; I had drawn a person.” ​From that day on, the pen never left her. In kindergarten, while other children played with plasticine, Gohar carefully sculpted tiny mice. Creation came naturally and constantly — knitting, embroidering, crafting paper dolls dressed in intricate, imagined wardrobes. This inner drive eventually led her to the Gyumri branch of the Henrik Igityan National Centre for Aesthetics, where Susanna Mkrtchyan, Larisa Melikyan and Gevorg Sargsyan helped lay her artistic foundation. Later, at the Fine Arts College and the Academy of Arts, she studied under master sculptor Zaven Koshtoyan, learning the language of form: how to feel volume, power and subtlety. Click to view slideshow. Why Hatsik? ​While many see the city as a land of opportunity, for Gohar, true opportunity meant solitude in nature. Moving to Hatsik, a village just four kilometers from Gyumri, became essential to her creative soul. “Shirak has given many talented people to the world. As harsh as this nature can be, I love it,” she tells the Weekly. “We decided to move to the village so I could be closer to the environment, to recharge and create. Without this, I cannot imagine myself or my work.” ​The colors of her canvases are born from this landscape. When asked why she favors blue and yellow, she simply replies, “It comes from within.” There are works she refuses to sell, such as Self-Portrait in Blue and Karmrakar Gorge. The stories behind them are kept like sacred relics. “The stories are mine; I will not share them,” she says, leaving viewers to interpret the mystery for themselves. ​Ceramics entered Gohar’s life two years after graduating from the Academy. She set a goal: to breathe life into traditional Armenian costumes through clay. For her, the process is not a physical task; it is a spiritual act. ​“Clay is flexible; in my hands, it becomes whatever is inside me — whatever I want to give to people to touch, feel and admire. I talk to the clay, I smile at it, I tell it stories. I love the piece even while it’s unfinished, right until it reaches its final form.” ​In her hands, a shapeless lump becomes an interior ornament, a decorative plate or a character doll — each the result of weeks of love and patience. Click to view slideshow. From the studio to the orphanage ​Gohar’s days are filled with kindness and creation. She doesn’t just create art; she transmits her light to those who need it most. On workdays, she is at an orphanage, working with children with special needs. “I teach them to paint and to sculpt with clay. This is important to me,” she says. “In the evenings, I am in my studio: my own world. Everything there is organized for concentration. Music is almost always playing — Komitas, folk songs...” ​It is in this cozy corner that her new sketches are born, often inspired by moments spent in nature. ​Gohar is candid about the challenges of being a female artist while managing a small business in rural Armenia. She manages every aspect of the work herself — from sourcing and transporting raw materials to marketing and organizing exhibitions. Still, she draws strength from her family: her mother, sisters and nephew, who stand by her at every turn. ​“There have been many offers to move to Yerevan or abroad, but I have turned them all down. I cannot imagine myself without my environment, my studio, my home and my family.” ​When reflecting on Gohar’s journey, it becomes clear that her greatest value is creative freedom. Ultimately, art is not a race but a commitment to one’s true self. “What matters to me is inner peace and the light I can transmit through the clay,” she explains. “I want people to look at my work and feel the warmth I put into it. My strength is in my land, my family and the freedom that creating gives me. I stay here because this is where I breathe.” All photos are courtesy of Gohar Petrosyan unless otherwise noted.