Author: Karakhanian Suren

“The Fabric of Memory” exhibition flyer

Tufenkian Fine Arts announced a new group exhibition, entitled “The Fabric of Memory,” featuring a selection of recent paintings and sculptures by Carlos Beltran-Arechiga, Sam Grigorian, Carolyn Mason, Luis Moreno, and Gretel Stephens. This exhibition will be on view from March 4 through April 22, with an opening reception to be held at the gallery on Saturday, March 4 from 3 to 6 p.m.

The artists in “The Fabric of Memory” share a visual lexicon that emphasizes raw aesthetic elements, biological and organic structures, as well as the use of discarded and found materials. The overlapping aesthetics of the works in this exhibition demonstrate the breadth and dexterity of these artists’ practices: densely layered and collaged paintings, pared down canvases, and sculptures that explore the use of texture, structure, and coloration. “The Fabric of Memory” aims to depict the underlying psyches and rooted experiences of these artists through their assemblage of carefully considered choice materials.

Carlos Beltran-Arechiga paints implied and explicit structures which question the arrangement of the systems and policies that determine access and equity. Beltran-Arechiga uses his paintings to confront the promise of the “American Dream” and the “Promised Land” in a state of chaos and order; desolate and fertile. As a first generation Mexican-American immigrant, the artist populates his canvases with edifices that are meant to evoke the archetypal homes affirmed by the legacy of the “American Dream.” Using drop cloth as the canvas for these works, the artist memorializes the material’s accumulated construction stains, reflecting on the idea of how those who contribute to the sustainment of pre-established systems may not necessarily be designed by or for them.

Although incidental references to notational factors such as writing and musical notation recur in his work, Sam Grigorian is principally interested in texture, structure, and muted coloration. Grigorian’s material of choice is paper, and by folding, bending, crushing, ripping, scraping, plastering it, and painting over it, only to tear strips out of it again, he is able to achieve a relatively uniform (if still vital) “skin” on the canvas. Grigorian’s Armenian roots become visible through his special relation to paper, which he makes by hand before using it. As the artist strips back layers on the canvas, enigmatic signs begin to appear. These newly arranged signs become elements of a coded language of personal marks blended together with emblems of traditional symbols, making the loss of the oral tradition in the Armenian diaspora visible and tangible.

Carolyn Mason’s practice privileges the use of materials that have personal history whose significance emerges after thoughtful consideration. Mason’s use of wool and pinecones in her sculptures make reference to her childhood home which was full of weaving and craft projects as well as the summers she spent in the Sierra Nevada mountains foraging in the wilderness. Inspiration for her work comes from the marvels of biological life both aesthetically and metaphorically: patterns of flowers, vines, and fungus; the magic and regeneration of underwater plants; the mesmerizing serpentine movement of snakes.

The work of Luis Moreno draws from a vivid palette of everyday materials — masa, clay, gum, hibiscus, chocolate, dead flowers, dirt — to produce a fragmentary, provisional record of otherwise undocumented lived experiences. What is made is less of an _expression_ of individualism, it is one of many possibilities of a moving subject open to the desires of materials, things, and others. The resulting objects are abstracted forms evoking an imagined architecture, a lived terrain, and a place simultaneously familiar and estranged.

Gretel Stephens’ artworks are meditations on atmosphere, material, and the internal dialogue between color and composition. Stephens’ paintings achieve their vaporous luminousness through an intensive process of dry brushing layer upon layer of oil paint onto raw linen. The resulting veils of color and organic forms seem to undulate freely across the surface of the canvas, bringing movement to work that a moment before was wholly still and contemplative. For Stephens, the tactile pleasures of the raw linen canvas and the physical sensation she associates with its rugged surface evokes an expressive desire to paint.

BY TALEEN SETRAKIAN
Special to Asbarez

“Who are the Armenians?” This is a question I receive almost every time I meet someone new. “How should I answer that question to ensure they remember us?” This is something I ask myself each time. My first urge is to respond by speaking about the not-so-well-known Armenian Genocide of 1915, but most people don’t always have empathy or patience for tragic or negative stories. 

I have learned that the best way to get people to care about you is to speak to their interests, making them feel connected to you. 

To most people, I ask—”Are you familiar with Cher? What about Charles Aznavour? Serj Tankian?” To the sports fanatics—”Do you know Andre Agassi? What about David Nalbandian? Henrikh Mkhitaryan?” To the tech nerds — “what’s your take on Alexis Ohanian? “To the celebrity-obsessed — “do you know Kim Kardashian is Armenian?” I can go on and on because, in every corner of the world and any field, there is at least one important Armenian acclaimed for what they do. 

As someone who has worked in the arts for over eight years, I constantly talk to my colleagues about the successful Armenians in this business sector. “Did you see the Armenian pavilion at the Venice Biennale? Do you know Larry Gagosian? What about Arshile Gorky? Parajanov? And Aivazovsky?”

A few weeks ago, several people in the Armenian community realized that The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York had changed Ivan Aivazovsky’s biography to state that he is Ukrainian. 

Many of us were angry, but most of all, we were concerned. Some of us wrote emails to the department, including me. I wrote, 

“I am writing to correct your records on Aivazovsky’s biography on your website. Aivazovsky is an Armenian artist, not a Ukrainian artist. I am not sure what the protocol is for listing his ethnicity as Ukranian, but he is not, and the records need to be corrected immediately. As you write in his bio, he was born into an Armenian family. How is one born into an Armenian family but does not retain their ethnic origins?”

After seeing this listing on one of the most renowned institution’s websites, I decided to explore some other museums’ biographies of Armenian artists. My first virtual stop was on the Museum of Modern Art’s website, and I checked the listing for Arshile Gorky. I discovered that the MoMA has listed that Gorky was born in “Van Province, Ottoman Empire (present-day Turkey.)”

This listing worried me even more than the inaccurate listing of Aivazovsky’s biography on The Met’s website. Not only did I find this information reductionist, but I also found it offensive. An average person who sees this listing will never know where the historical Van that Gorky was born in existed geographically (Armenia) or how it was taken away from us in the 1915 massacres of over 1.5 million Armenians by the Ottoman Turks. 

One of the most famous paintings by Gorky pays homage to his mother, who died from starvation after a death march during the Genocide. Gorky spent most of his life haunted by the tragic past that all Armenians wear on their shoulders to this day. It is only decent for the Museum of Modern Art to ensure that his birthplace, “Van Province (former-day Western Armenia, present-day Turkey,)” is listed accurately and fairly.

In today’s global affairs, politicians often lay truths under the rug, and western journalism fails to deliver real news, and thus our histories are constantly rewritten. This is why global art institutions must lead in preserving our roots and identities.

In a world where people are constantly being forced out of their homes due to unfair regimes and where minorities rarely receive acknowledgment of their suffering, it is essential to acknowledge and respect their histories and origins.

In conclusion, I wish to make a simple request to those who work in the cultural sphere of truth–the arts, museums, galleries, universities, and publishers: while we Armenians do everything we can to ensure our legacies are honored, we ask that you, with your due diligence, ensure that the proper credit is given to our culture and others’ culture altogether.

An 1879 self-portrait of Ivan Aivazovsky (left) and Arshile Gorky

[Editor’s Note: Readers may contact the Metropolitan Museum of Art at [email protected] or the Museum of Modern Art at [email protected]].

Taleen Setrakian is a multidisciplinary visual artist and graphic designer born and based in New York City. She graduated from Parsons, The New School for Design, in 2015. She is co-founder and creative director of QAMI JAN, a lifestyle brand featuring limited edition objects inspired by the Armenian Highlands. Her role as an artist is a part-time effort, and she works full-time professionally in the art business. Setrakian is committed to globalizing Armenian culture and heritage, using art as a tool to enlighten and inspire those who know little about our people. She is connected to her cultural roots and dedicated to channeling her aspirations for the future of Armenia and the country’s legacy. She lives by the idea that “Armenia is ours if we let it be ours.”