Artsakh through her eyes: The black-and-white prayer of Anna Manukyan

Artsakh holds a singular place within the creative oeuvre of Anna Manukyan. Yet therein lies a remarkable and poignant truth: The artist has never been to Artsakh. She has never witnessed the mists of Shushi or the ancient stones of Dadivank, yet Artsakh breathes within her canvases. It is a form of "inner vision," in which the homeland is constructed not from observed landscapes but from the ancestral call of blood and internal anguish. In these paintings, one often encounters the figure of a young girl. Anna’s niece served as the model for these works. To the artist, the child’s innocent gaze became a bridge connecting her to a land she has never seen yet feels intimately. Through the image of her niece, Anna distilled the vulnerability of Artsakh and, simultaneously, its unbreakable light. In Anna’s art, pain occasionally takes on a brutally honest form. In one prominent canvas depicting jackals, the stark reality of modern tragedy is reflected. At the center, a towering tree represents Artsakh itself, clinging to the soil with its roots, while the howling jackals surrounding it symbolize the enemies who relentlessly tore the country away. This is not merely a landscape; it is a story aching like an exposed nerve, where nature itself mourns human injustice. The Mother occupies a central, almost sanctified role in Anna’s life and art. One moving canvas portrays a woman sitting before a small kiosk. That woman is Anna’s mother. She opens her small vegetable shop every day, sitting before a small gas heater to warm her freezing hands while reflecting on the day's worries, her tasks and her children. In this depiction, the mother is not just a relative but a symbol of the resilience of Armenian women. Her gaze contains both exhaustion and infinite love. For Anna, her mother is the silent force that warms the coldness of the world, much like that small flame. "I do not paint to be sold" In conversation with Anna, one immediately senses her uncompromising nature. She is an artist who refuses to become "commercial." Her principle is clear: to paint only what ferments within her, what torments and moves her. "I do not want to be an artist who paints using methods to please others or for the sake of sales. I want to paint the themes that interest me, the themes I live by." If her art were a person, it would be a dissenter — rebellious and irreconcilable. This is not a form of self-flagellation but a supreme manifestation of honesty. She knows the world rarely loves those who speak the truth and those who refuse to remain indifferent, and she consciously chooses this difficult path. Along this challenging road, Anna held her first solo exhibition. From Jan. 20 to 29, her solo exhibition, titled "Soil and Soul," took place at Yerevan’s Pyunik Development Center, 3/1 Buzand St. It became a unique dialogue with the audience, proving that the true homeland lives first and foremost in the souls and that true art is born where indifference ends. Although years ago yellow dominated the artist’s inner world and today she favors violet, her true love remains black and white. "I am able to say more through black and white. When you paint a person in color, they lose their essence for me. In black and white, everything is purer and more truthful" she tells the Weekly. Parallel to art, karate and her coach hold a significant place in Anna’s life. This is the source of her willpower and internal discipline. She believes in the Japanese wisdom: "The teacher appears when the student is ready." She has been ready since age 5, when she independently chose her path toward karate. When asked, "Who are you?" she offers no quick or standard answers. "In 50 years, I will know who I am," she says. This is the most honest answer for an artist who, through her canvases, has already begun her great march through the complex labyrinths of Armenian art. Anna Manukyan’s art is not merely color and line; it is a silent prayer for justice and unextinguished memory. In her paintings, the homeland has no borders, and maternal love becomes the warm fire around which hope and faith gather. You can follow Anna Manukyan's work on Instagram at @manukyan.artist. All photos courtesy of Anna Manukyan unless otherwise noted.

Artsakh through her eyes: The black-and-white prayer of Anna Manukyan

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Anzhela Sedrakyan

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Anzhela Sedrakyan

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