Gohar Petrosyan grew up in Hatsik, a village where Mount Ararat stands on the horizon and every yard blooms in spring. That landscape never left her work.
She works in clay and in paint: ceramic plates, hand-painted figurines, dolls in traditional costume, watercolours and oils. The subjects come from memory: stone houses and blossoming yards, a shepherd with his flute, a grandmother at the mortar, the first snow over the village.
Today she leads the Gohar Petrosyan Art Center, where visitors of every age sit down at the workbench, take a piece of clay in their hands, and make something of their own.
A solo show at the Narekatsi Art Institute, paintings and ceramics hung together across the hall.
Back in the gallery in June 2025, standing among the year’s new work.
The stand at My Handmade Armenia: canvases behind, painted clay figurines laid out in front.
Clay firs and small angels made for the winter market.
Early morning at the Cascade before the festival opened, and the stand later that day under the blue tent.
The white tent at the summer fair, the table filled with ceramics and dolls.
Clay figurines set out on red cloth, waiting for the day to begin.
Gohar Petrosyan grew up in Hatsik, a village where Mount Ararat stands on the horizon and every yard blooms in spring. That landscape never left her work.
She works in clay and in paint: ceramic plates, hand-painted figurines, dolls in traditional costume, watercolours and oils. The subjects come from memory: stone houses and blossoming yards, a shepherd with his flute, a grandmother at the mortar, the first snow over the village.
Today she leads the Gohar Petrosyan Art Center, where visitors of every age sit down at the workbench, take a piece of clay in their hands, and make something of their own.
From village halls to international art institutes, a walk through the rooms where the work has been shown.
A solo show at the Narekatsi Art Institute, paintings and ceramics hung together across the hall.
Back in the gallery in June 2025, standing among the year’s new work.
The stand at My Handmade Armenia: canvases behind, painted clay figurines laid out in front.
Clay firs and small angels made for the winter market.
Early morning at the Cascade before the festival opened, and the stand later that day under the blue tent.
The white tent at the summer fair, the table filled with ceramics and dolls.
Clay figurines set out on red cloth, waiting for the day to begin.
Diplomas, certificates and letters of gratitude gathered over years of symposiums, plein airs, festivals and fairs.
