A Creative Interview With Artist Suren Nersisyan



"I was both thrilled and grateful when some art historians and critics told me I have the ability to make colors talk.”
Artist Suren Nersisyan finds inspiration in the poetic elements of nature and unexpected places. Born in Armenia, Suren studied fine arts for five years before continuing his education in the US. He now works from his studio in California, painting in silence with only the music in his head for company. After long sessions, Suren sometimes forgets to wash the paint from his hands and face, realizing it only when strangers give him curious looks.
In this interview, Suren takes us into his artistic journey, from his education to the rituals and inspirations behind his nostalgic paintings.
What’s your home life like?
I live and work in California, where the sunny weather and incredibly diverse natural surroundings keep me close to my inspirations. My home is a half artist studio and half apartment, which allows me to go to my canvases anytime inspiration strikes—whether it’s late at night or early in the morning.
What are you most proud of—whether in art or another part of your life?
The thought that I create artworks that might stay in the world as something positive and uplifting makes me feel proud as a human being. This feeling is even stronger when I consider how closely connected my art is to nature. I hope it brings people joy and a sense of peace.
Do you have any studio rituals that help you get into a creative flow?
My days usually begin with coffee and paints. I have an extensive archive of sketches and documented color combinations—many inspired by nature or my travels. Some days, I just take my car and drive out into the wild. Those trips almost always bring me unexpected new ideas for my work.

Where do you find inspiration for your art?
I find inspiration in hiking, traveling, or even in everyday moments. Sometimes just looking at sunlight filtering through the trees sparks a rush of creative ideas that later become the basis for new compositions.
Tell us about your evolution as an artist.
I received my formal art education in Armenia. During university, I was fortunate to learn from outstanding academic professors who taught me the foundational "alphabet" of painting skills. My early artistic period was very observational and realistic, which gave me the confidence to later express what I see and feel. That journey brought me closer to the Post-Impressionists and Fauvists, who became my artistic mentors. The compositional logic of Cézanne, the emotional intensity of Van Gogh, and the rebellious approach of Matisse all influenced me deeply.
How do you decide when an artwork is finished?
Knowing when an artwork is finished is one of the most challenging parts of the creative process. Often, while trying to create harmony between colors and shapes, I’ll sense a moment when the painting no longer needs more brushstrokes, that’s when I know it’s complete.
What is the most interesting observation someone has made about your work?
I was both thrilled and grateful when some art historians and critics told me I have the ability to make colors “talk.” That is, in fact, the ultimate goal of my art: to use color and texture to express beauty, much like music uses notes.
Is there an artwork from another artist that has had a significant impact on you?
Many artists have influenced my development, from Impressionism to Fauvism, each with their own powerful aesthetic. I can’t single out one artist as the most impactful; rather, I carry pieces of all of them in my work.

What’s your favorite museum?
If I had to choose two favorite museums, they would be the Musée d’Orsay in Paris and MoMA in New York. They are like encyclopedias of art history, each representing a range of artistic languages and aesthetics. I feel like I could visit them every day and never grow tired of what they offer.

Is there anything else you’d like to share to help viewers better understand your work?
I hope my art speaks for itself. As a visual artist, I believe that if a work doesn't make the viewer feel something or spark curiosity and reflection, then words aren't likely to help either. Artworks have their own lives once they leave my studio, and they should be able to "speak" on their own.