“Repetition is what drives young people away from classical arts.”
— Alijan Alijanpour
Introduction
To keep something alive, you must allow it to change.
This is not only a truth about culture — it’s a personal credo for Master Alijan Alijanpour. A lifelong devotee of Persian miniature, Alijanpour does not merely preserve a tradition; he reshapes it. And in doing so, he poses a provocative question to the art world:
Can a centuries-old form survive without betraying its essence — if it dares to evolve?
In his 2021 interview with Honar Online, Alijanpour reflects on this dilemma with the clarity of a sage and the urgency of a teacher watching his lineage at risk of vanishing.
The Trap of Repetition
“Repetition is what drives young people away from classical arts.”
This is the bold diagnosis Alijanpour offers — not just of art education, but of tradition itself. In his view, many practitioners of Persian miniature are caught in a loop: replicating motifs, forms, and compositions without rediscovering the meaning behind them.
The result? A stagnation that distances new generations, turning what was once a vessel for divine and cultural insight into a static museum of technique.
But Alijanpour’s concern is not nostalgic. It is forward-facing. He doesn’t seek to revive the past, but to transmit its soul into new visual languages.
Line as Spirit, Not Decoration
In Persian miniature, color, detail, and ornamentation have long been celebrated. But Alijanpour, in a quiet revolution, strips all that away to ask:
“What if the line itself is enough?”
In his monochrome works — notably United Couple — the visual field becomes a spiritual one. Each curve, loop, and empty space carries emotional resonance, as if the viewer is being invited not to observe, but to breathe with the artwork.
It’s a return to essence — where a single stroke carries centuries of philosophy, and absence becomes presence.
The Art of Translation — Across Cultures and Borders
Having taught in both Iran and Canada for decades, Alijanpour is more than an artist — he is a cultural interpreter.
He recalls moments when students unfamiliar with Iranian aesthetics created miniature pieces that surprised even seasoned judges in international competitions. Their success, he believes, proves something essential:
The soul of Persian miniature is not tied to geography.
It speaks to those who listen — no matter their language.
In this way,Alijan Alijanpour doesn’t just teach techniques. He passes on a way of seeing — one that finds unity in contrast, and continuity in change.
A Gentle Warning, A Call to Responsibility
Alijanpour ends the interview not with pride, but with worry:
“Perhaps this generation of Iranian miniature artists will never be replaced.”
This is not a lament. It is a wake-up call. Unless artists learn to balance reverence with rebellion — to honor their lineage without being trapped by it — the chain of transmission may break.
And yet, through his students, his reinvention of form, and his philosophical stance, Alijanpour shows us that tradition is not what you inherit — it’s what you cultivate.
Final Reflection
In a world where the visual is consumed more than contemplated, Alijanpour's work invites slowness. Stillness. And above all, depth.
He is not merely preserving Persian miniature — he is writing its next chapter.
Reference
This article is based on the 2021 interview with Master Alijanpour published in Persian by Honar Online. Read the original interview here.