The color of core: Inside Diana Karapetyan’s inner world
From July 18 to 26, the Pyunik Development Center in Yerevan became the space where artist Diana Karapetyan invited the public into her inner world. Her first solo exhibition, titled Core, was more than a display of artworks—it was a tactile meditation on memory, identity and the ever-evolving nature of the self.
A graduate of Shirak State University’s Department of Decorative and Applied Arts, Karapetyan has long explored various forms of artistic expression: sculpture, ceramics, painting, woodwork, embroidery and tapestry. Born in Gyumri and now living in Yerevan, the 29-year-old artist works as a graphic designer, balancing a professional career with a deep, ongoing engagement with personal artmaking.
The exhibition featured 24 pieces from her extensive body of work, which comprises over 100 creations. These include both canvases and spatial objects—some previously exhibited at the Institute for Contemporary Art and at local showcases in Gyumri. At Core, the focus was on tactile materials, soft forms and color—especially red and white—as language, emotion and resistance.
One of the standout pieces was Amorphous Bodies, a soft sculptural installation composed of small, interconnected circles. Karapetyan describes it as “a fixed form,” but one that visually captures the fleeting, layered quality of time.
“The small circles represent moments of life,” she explained to the Weekly. “Events that begin, intersect, continue, end, then attach to another or dissolve into emptiness. I can say they have the same name and happen at the same hour every day, but in reality, they never repeat.”
This is the kind of conceptual fluidity that characterizes Karapetyan’s practice. Many of her pieces are created from humble materials—fabric scraps, paper, threads, even eggshells—yet they emanate depth. She recalled how her creative process began during university days, when she was asked to paint flowerpots for class.
“I had paint, I had space, I started painting, finished it and realized—I didn’t want to stop,” she said. “We are young; the colors should be vivid and fresh.”
The resulting abstract works are far from random. “They carry something,” she explained. “A motive, a movement. If you want to free yourself from subject and form, to be introspective and use just what you have—paint, brush, pencil—it becomes like meditation. Your hand guides you. The canvas itself tells you, ‘Don’t interrupt the movement.’”
For Karapetyan, the act of creation is also about the environment. She has painted in classrooms, tiny university studios and now at home—in her kitchen, which she has converted into a working studio. The kitchen’s enclosed balcony, she noted, has become her creative refuge.
“The most important thing is silence,” she reflected. “I’ve freed myself from the idea that I need special conditions. If I have to do it on my knees, I will do it. If it is at night, I will do it.”
The title of the exhibition, Core, emerged organically from one particular piece: a small, soft white sphere that sparked a new chapter in her work.
“That sphere was like my inner self—the thing I was avoiding or found difficult. By working with it, I brought that issue out. It started a whole new phase.”
From there, she moved into the red phase: a conceptual and literal shift. The idea of weaving the sun itself fascinated her. “I took out all the red thread I had at home,” she remembered. “Twice, I tried to create a red sphere. I failed. But during that process, I discovered the technique I needed.”
That red sphere became the second piece in the emerging Core series. She titled it Untitled, and though it was not displayed in this exhibition, it laid the groundwork for what followed: a progression into white.
This emotional oscillation—between tension and calm, color and absence—runs through all of Karapetyan’s work. Her soft, rounded forms reflect a need for tranquility in a world that often feels sharp and overwhelming.
Now, the artist is stepping into new territory. She is preparing a series of four large-scale canvases inspired by Daniel Varoujan’s The Song of Bread, a poem she has felt connected to since childhood. The works will form an immersive installation—one that she hopes will be accompanied by sound, perhaps even Varoujan’s poem read aloud through headphones.
“The seas of wheat, the fields—they are close to me. I have even thought about finding Varoujan’s descendants. That story moved me deeply as a child.”
She is also conceptualizing a new spatial object titled Blissful Unawareness: a sky-blue, round, soft structure symbolizing the quiet anxiety of peace, the strange tension of things going “too well.”
“There are days when everything’s fine, and you start to doubt, ‘Something feels off.’ But after that, you gather yourself again, and a new countdown begins. That blissful unawareness is a space I want to build.”
Though her professional life revolves around design—solving problems, meeting client demands—she views it as distinctly separate from her art.
“A designer solves problems. An artist creates for themselves, from within. In design, you have to adapt. But in art, it is personal. It is a conversation with yourself.”
Yet, Karapetyan does not shy away from creative intersections. She has worked on Armenian book design, experimented with rare materials like Bokrimasha paper and sculpted using eggshells.
“Round, smooth shapes calm me. No sharp corners; they flow.
Ultimately, Diana Karapetyan’s Core is not a static body of work. It is a process—a passage through form, color and feeling. Her art does not explain; it inhabits. It invites the viewer to slow down, listen and feel. Each sphere she presents is a world unto itself; each abstract line a whisper of something ineffable.
In her own words: “The work gives me thought—inspiration. And that thought is hope, that light is very powerful.”
To explore more of Diana Karapetyan’s work, you may follow her artist account or her design and painting accounts on Instagram.
All photos taken by the author
