As Saryan said about Minas: “Artists draw the dawn. Dawn is the mood. It is light and darkness merged together. And very few dare to draw the sun. With the sun, everything is very sharp. The sun breaks its usual forms, shifts the lines – to catch and convey it all in paints is difficult.
Minas is not afraid of brightness. He took a step into the world of the sun. It is important that he, without repeating himself, move on and not stop…”
In 1972, most of Minas Avetisyan’s paintings in his studio burned in a fire. He was preparing for an exhibition at the time and had gathered his best works. The “Birth of Toros Roslin” died. The “Road. Memoirs of Parents” and the thin, gentle, and deep “Portrait of the Mother” painted in the year of her death were lost as well.
The famous crucifix burned down – the yellow and red “Mother’s Dedication.” Forever disappeared the landscape-memory “Here we lived.” Many of his works of the recent years were lost – precisely those which the artist left for himself, not wishing to part with them.
Now, all this is piles of ash, charred frames, soot on the walls…
The fire in the workshop of Minas agitated the entire Yerevan. Friends, of course, were with him. But there was also a huge number of completely unfamiliar people distant from art who came to Minas, stopped him on the street, and phoned him. They offered their help – but how can one help in this case?
Martiros Saryan sent Minas his brushes and paints and wrote two words in the note: “I am waiting for paintings.”
That year, more distinctly than usual, a very characteristic feature of Minas manifested itself – he had always lived and worked as if he hadn’t faced the problem of choice.
There was no question what to do and how. He did not dash, did not fight with himself so as not to succumb to the temptation or compromise. He did his job – honestly, naturally, organically, and selflessly.
His life, his human appearance had a great impact on others. His morality. His example. Someone told me recently – Minas was like a gift to us all. A golden apple given by fate.
Yes, traveling around Armenia, its stony spaces, and the stone-like harsh centuries, I am constantly looking for three properties that are precious to me – kindness, talent, and beauty.
I see them in Roslin, in his spiritual quest, interest in the human heart, in color festivals on the pages of his books. I found talent, goodness, and beauty in Minas, in his work, in his soul.
Source: “Fate and stone”, Bakshi K. N