Author: Emil Lazarian

FRESNO, CA – As Bloodline: The Art of Carol Tikijian enters its final weeks at the Armenian Museum of Fresno, Museum Director Varoujan Der Simonian sat down with the acclaimed Fresno artist for a conversation about the exhibition, her creative process, and the family stories that inspired the work. The closing reception will be held on Thursday, June 25, from 5 to 8 p.m. at the Armenian Museum of Fresno, 550 E. Shaw Avenue, Fresno, CA 93710.

Since opening on March 6, Bloodline has captivated audiences with its deeply personal exploration of memory, heritage, and identity. More than 300 guests attended the opening reception alone, and hundreds have come since then making it one of the museum’s most successful exhibition launched in recent years. Originally scheduled to run for three months, the exhibition was extended through June 26 in response to strong public interest and the steady stream of visitors.

The closing reception is part of the Armenian Museum of Fresno’s 25th Anniversary Cultural Night celebration. The evening will feature a staged reading of William Saroyan’s My Heart’s in the Highlands by local actors, as well as readings of works by celebrated Armenian poets directed by acclaimed Broadway and television actress Jacqueline Antaramian.

Bloodline is part of the Armenian Museum of Fresno’s Յուշեր_WhoShare_Memories project, which uses art and digital media to preserve and share community memories. In 2025, seven local artists contributed their unique perspectives through fine art, music, photography, and audiovisual works. The project is funded in part by the City of Fresno’s Measure P Expanded Access to Arts and Culture Program.

Following its closing at the Museum, a condensed version of Bloodline will be presented at the Museum’s ZARTONK Gallery in downtown Fresno. The exhibition will be on view during Fresno ArtHop evenings, providing additional opportunities for the public to experience Tikijian’s work and engage with the themes of family history, memory, and cultural preservation.

One of the several Tavloo (backgammon) games made by the artist’s father

What inspired you to become an artist?
My earliest memories as a child include making things with my hands, starting with making and decorating mudpies with flowers and sticks. I like working with my hands and it was never an option not to engage in making things.

As a contemporary artist, how would you characterize your art?
My art does not fit neatly into a category. I refer to most of the work as constructions since they are assembled like the way a carpenter might construct something made of wood, using nails and screws.

What process do you go through to create each piece?
I usually start with an idea that interests me. Whatever idea I’m working with becomes realized through a variety of materials including but not limited to wood, metal, glass, fabric, paper, acrylic paint, ink, found objects etc. I like to experiment with materials and try out new ways to express ideas visually.  I have a small shop with power tools. Most of the pieces are roughly hewn.

You’d said before that your parents were curious about your use of mixed media?
My parents and most members of the family really didn’t understand why I chose to work in this non-traditional manner. My art education took place during a time of great experimentality. Coming from a small conservative community with minimal exposure to art, this was visually and intellectually new and exciting, and I was immediately drawn into the world of contemporary art.

What inspired you to create the Bloodline exhibit?
You invited me to participate in the Who Share/Memories series that you were exhibiting at the Armenian Museum of Fresno, and I was honored to accept your invitation.

You’re presenting your grandparents’ and family history through this art. Could you give a few examples that had an impact on you while growing up?
I grew up knowing and loving my grandmothers who were both Armenian but quite different from each other. I would love to listen to their stories and just experience how they went about their lives. I found them not only loving but fascinating. Altoon Avedisian Tikijian, my father’s mother was born into wealth but lost her wealth and became the quintessential peasant who was tasked with raising her eight children alone with no money after her husband died at a young age. Alice Proodian, my mother’s mother was born in Egypt and had to make her way alone as an eleven-year-old girl to reunite with her family who had come ahead of her to the United States. Both grandmothers were strong and determined to survive and adapt to their new lives as Americans. 

Rakhi stiller from early 1900s for making crystal-clear Armenian fire water

Q. Can you give an example of their lifestyle, any habits of your grandparents you observed growing up? That you presented in the installation?
Both grandmothers were skilled in the kitchen. Altoon would make lavash (we called it parag hatz) and store the stacks of dry flat round bread in a wooden barrel in her kitchen. She had a rakhi still in her cellar and would make this crystal-clear Armenian fire water, as would most Armenian families many of whom made their rakhi in the raisin fields.

My father was one of eight children. Their ranch was situated next to the ranch of a Japanese family who also had many young children. The Armenian and Japanese children would play at each other’s houses. Consequentially, all the little Armenian kids learned to speak Japanese and the little Japanese children spoke Armenian.

Armenians loved to play Tavloo (Backgammon) and cards. My father made several Tavloo boards and lathe turned lamp bases in Fowler High School wood shop.

My father and his siblings started school in Fowler with traditional Armenian first names: Nazli, Dikranue, Yelkzapere, Ovanese, Arpue, Kinarig, Harootun, then Madeline. The teachers renamed them all with American names: Nora, Dickie, Elizabeth, Johnny, Alice, Mary, and Harry. Madeline, the youngest, was named by her siblings.

Q. One installation references “hobo” culture- signs that hobos used, as part of American history/culture. What can you tell us about it?
Hobo culture existed in America during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Hobos were vagabond workers who hitched rides on the freight trains as they were looking for work. They had a system of communicating with each other by leaving symbols indicating which house might offer a free meal and which house they encountered might be dangerous for them.  Simpat Proodian, my mother’s father, would caution his family that if anybody came to the door to always give them food because they might be Jesus.

Q. One of the attractions of this exhibit is your family tree that your mother had started, which became an inspiration for a local youth group to create their rendition of a genealogy map (I was posted on social media and included in a film presented during most recent Armenian Genocide commemoration in Fresno).

My mother worked for many years on diagraming our family tree. She used simple butcher paper, pencil, and ruler. I incorporated a copy of her tree onto a piece that includes a world map and a map of California and used strands of red silk thread to indicate each family members’ paths from their country of origin to their final destination in Fowler, California thus indicating the path of my bloodline which inspired the title of this exhibit.

Q. How would you characterize your experience here at the museum? You had a successful opening night where some 300+ people showed up, including lots of non-Armenians visiting the exhibit. What do you attribute their interest to? (i.e. kids growing up together)
I have had a wonderful experience exhibiting at the Armenian Museum of Fresno. You and your staff have been gracious and supportive throughout the duration of the show and have been willing to open the doors for guests as requested even during off hours. The reception was surprisingly well attended. I have been an exhibiting artist in the community for many years but really didn’t expect such robust attendance at the reception and during the following weeks. A couple of days before the opening, I had butterflies in my stomach wondering who in the world would possibly be interested in my family? The opposite was true in that most viewers, even the non-Armenian guests, found a commonality with their family and experiences. It’s been a remarkable experience.

The wedding dress of artist’s grandmother Alice Proodian

There is a piece entitled “Pouring of the Money”…Is that your grandfather? Which side?
Setrak Tikijian, my father’s father, was born into a family of means in Armenia. He had private tutoring and could speak English well before coming to America. He maintained his wealth in Fowler until agreeing to cosign for a friend who wanted to buy a ranch. This friend defaulted on the loan resulting in Setrak and Altoon losing their money. The figure of Setrak in the exhibit has paper American and Armenian money streaming from his hand to the floor symbolizing this loss of money. The figure of Setrak also has a replica of an Ottoman Sword. All my family came to America before the Armenian Genocide but Setrak had a younger brother, Ovaness who went back to Armenia/Turkey to fight. He was beheaded and had his head paraded through street on the tip of an Ottoman sword.

Tell me about your Art Exchange project in Gumyri. You have a bowl of soil from Armenia, and a poem associated with that soil. Why is that?
Fresno, California and Gumyri, Armenia are sister Rotary cities. In 2008, Alexan Ter Minasian, who has the Berlin Art Hotel in Gumyri, visited Fresno on a Rotary trip. He saw a piece of mine at the Fresno Art Museum and noticed it was made by an Armenian artist and inquired about how to meet me. We met and conjured up a plan to have an art exchange. The Berlin Art Hotel in Gumyri has a gallery named Gallery 25 and I was a member of Gallery 25 in Fresno, two unrelated Gallery 25s. We easily made this come to fruition and I arranged an exhibit of Gumyri artists at Gallery 25 in Fresno and took art from Fresno artists to exhibit in Gumyri. It was a lovely collaboration that came together organically. While in Armenia, I collected a bag of soil and brought it back with me. I included this soil from the Armenian homeland in the exhibit along with a beautiful poem “The Red Soil” written by Daniel Varoujan. I encountered this poem by chance and found it profound not knowing how famous it is among those who know Armenian poetry.

Now that your exhibit is ending, are you satisfied with the outcome? What stands out in your mind?
It is difficult to express in words how much I have enjoyed this experience. It has been immensely moving and gratifying. I think what stands out for me is how much others related to the stories.

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Segment of poem “The Red Soil” written by a victim of the Armenian Genocide, poet Daniel Varoujan