GLENDALE — “Convergence,” the group exhibit showcasing the work of more than 20 contemporary diasporic artists of Armenian descent, running from March 21 to August 9 at the Forest Lawn Museum, makes a strong statement about contemporary art, often dismissed as elitist and removed from social realities, as a powerful force in addressing societal inequities.
The featured works, ranging from paintings to conceptual installations, invite reflection on issues such as the inhumane carceral system in the US, gender inequalities, the abuse of the environment as a threat to the future of the planet and the survival of the human species, as well as issues endemic to the human experience. The exhibit is conceived of and curated by artists Alina Mnatsakanian and Kaloust Guedel, in collaboration with Forest Lawn Museum Director James Fishburne.
The relevance of the artwork on display to our current reality is impossible to miss. With “Earth Kids” (2025), a thought-provoking installation of wheatpasted figures of peaceful young women, Sophia Gasparian (born in Yerevan, currently residing in Los Angeles) “challenges the macho hegemony of graffiti culture and emphasizes the feminine spirit.” Gasparian’s art addresses equal human rights issues worldwide. Ara Oshagan’s “A Poor Imitation Death,” an installation of photographic prints and handwritten texts is a scathing indictment of the broken US carceral system. The photographs of handwritten letters from young men and women incarcerated in prisons across California prompt the viewer to ponder the horrifying realities of the system. These letters underscore the inmates’ sense of being “tired of feeling. Because the only feelings that I am capable to feel are betrayal, hurt, pain, mysery (sic), and lonely. . . . I don’t think this is the way it’s suppose (sic) to go.” “When the days have been stripped of their meaning and we exist only in physicality life becomes a poor imitation of death,” writes 20-year-old Liz, an inmate at the Chowchilla State Prison.
Even as they highlight the pain and the abuse, however, the artists also showcase the more positive and restorative aspects of the culture they grew up in. “Objects of Her” (2026), conceived by She Loves Collective, an alliance of female artists based in Glendale, “dedicated to elevating the voices and talents of women in the arts,” recreates the everyday ritual of a woman, whose life revolves around her domestic responsibilities, in an extremely appealing and aesthetically pleasing installation. A sewing machine, a rolling pin, trinkets, jugs, knives, spoons, articles of clothing, a console table with a mirror where the housewife beautifies herself (one of her essential “duties”), lace, crocheted rugs, framed embroideries with expressions of endearment in Armenian — Gyankes, Tzavet danem, Yes kez siroom em — all put together with infinite care, evoke household duties perceived as quintessentially feminine. However, rather than reject a role that has defined a woman historically, perceived by many as exclusionary, the artists celebrate the nurturing aspects of the role. They embrace the traditional responsibilities of a woman, yet extend them to include the creativity and the intelligence of the women the exhibit showcases. Theirs is a subtle, yet powerful, critique of the stance that would reduce a very complex role to an either/or formula. Whoever said that running a household did not require creativity?
While they give voice to the individual concerns of artists in a diverse diaspora, the works also give their past relevance. Designs that incorporate the letters of the iconic Armenian alphabet or signature motifs from ancient Armenian rugs recall common cultural roots. Even as it hails the creation of a new home in an adopted “homeland,” an installation blending the Armenian and the American flags highlights a history of displacement and the violence that uproots a people from their millennia-old ancestral lands. These works are defined by the honesty and the openness of the artists as they struggle to understand their complicated identities, in an effort to come to terms with their endlessly evolving realities. In the words of Micah Owens, winner of the 2026 USC Dornsife Creative Writing Contest,
