We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Gurgen Aloian a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Gurgen, thanks for joining us today. Can you talk to us about how you learned to do what you do?

I have to admit that I never stopped learning. The “learning process” correlates directly to what I do daily, and my constant search for happiness in what I create. The concepts of “learning” and “process”, to me, can not exist without each other. So, for now, I will combine the words to just “process”. In my opinion, the process of creation is the purest form of art. Solving puzzles, discovering new possibilities, evolving as a person, learning and unlearning (which is learning still) – all those parts of creation are the moments when I feel true happiness. I believe with this happiness comes the passion to never stop learning, and thus creating.
There is nothing in the world that would help me achieve my skill level faster. It is an individual trait, but I do believe that if I ever stopped to find an outside source of motivation – I failed in some way; it would mean I did not have the love or resilience to go on my own. I am not talking about specific technical skills (of course I constantly watch tutorials, and I am never shy to ask a question on a 3D modeling forum), but learning overall. Searching for how to achieve specific technical goals does not take away from my loop of self-motivation.
The obstacle to learning I fear the most is being fully aware of what I am creating. At that point, it is not “process” anymore, but maybe something closer to “manufacturing”. It would mean that I won’t be having those happy moments of learning and discovery. Thus, my evolving as an artist will stop for that moment, and there is nothing that I fear more.
With all that said, I truly appreciate the power of constructive criticism. Gladly, I have people around me who are honest with me in discussions about my art.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers

My approach to creating is always in a relationship with the hectic nature of my life. My story is of three countries: Armenia, where I was born; Russia, where my family moved to when I was under a year old; and the United States, where I moved by myself at the age of 15. I believe every person has a unique vision, but I guess it is my background that makes mine such. Maybe, in part, due to the pure exposure to different cultures, but maybe, I create to find a sense of belonging. I am yet to discover something that I consider a definite “home” in the real world. There is a conscious thought of the three-dimensional space in which I operate, for a moment, being my home. Even though intangible, sometimes, a feeling of phantom physical presence in the space of my creation makes me feel whole. After graduating from the School of Visual Arts in New York, my short-lived career as a political illustrator began. In 2018, I had to fly back to Russia to renew my visa. I told my friends that I will be back in a month – it ended up being four years until I could come back to the United States. And despite the last four years being the most difficult time in my life, it was where I found my passion – 3D animation.
I do almost everything relating to the field of 3D: from directing and modeling to occasionally writing music.
I am most proud of my true love for the craft. Love so deep that when I take breaks during a self-imposed 12-hour work day, I still find myself in the 3D software, only without the pressure of the deadlines. I am also proud of my ability to never approach anything the same way twice. With experience, I came to a realization – if I am purely repeating the steps – I am not happy. Something that I will discuss further in an answer to a question about my learning process.
With my love for what I do, comes confidence, and unless my ambition is limited by hardware – I do not believe that anything is unsolvable, or that I am incapable of. It does require hard work, but hard work is always an element of pleasure when it comes to creating.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

I hope it is fine if instead, I talk about something I am currently unlearning. It is that I have yet to comprehend, and I might be on the wrong path, but I would like to share it anyway. It deals with “telling a story”. My entire time studying illustration, me and my fellow students were taught how to tell a story; the visual element was always second place. For years I’ve been obsessed with this notion of “telling a story”. I would judge almost anything in life by those standards – of how efficiently the story was told; whether it is a text message or a design of a disposable cup.
It is very recently that I started giving it a second thought, not in terms of illustration work, but art in general. I wonder what the art will be in the vacuum of its own space. Art without a story, without a narrative, only unexpected existence. Without a meaning given by the creator, its audience, or its context.
In recent weeks, this pursuit of something I am yet to comprehend has helped me look at what I make from a new perspective, which, to me, is a sign of evolution as an artist (even if it is just a mental exercise).

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I think society needs to pay artists for their process, haha. It is a utopian proposal, I know, but I do wonder about the state of the world, without a “finished product” required to make a living. We are surrounded by “perfect” and “finished”; whether it is the impeccable curves of your iPhone or the incredible simulation of rust in water in Avatar 2. This exposure forms our expectations of societal standards regarding products and their value. I am not writing only about artists’ perceptions, but more importantly – clients’. It is understandable – if you are paying for something, you should know what to expect – something “final”. But in many ways, I think this absolutely reasonable approach limits artistic potential.
Many artists are striving to reach a “finalized” and “perfect” commercial art style; something that is easily replicated and is reliable when working with clients. Something that always meets expectations. Something that, unfortunately, rarely evolves, or does so very slowly.
But what if it was never the case? What if we could experiment, dwell deep inside our consciousness, always evolve and find our passion over and over again, without thinking of pay or societal expectations?
My optimistic guess is that this impossible experiment will result in some of the most inspired art to ever exist.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @gurgen_aloian