Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

ZANAZAN

զանազան

VOLUME 1, ISSUE 2

CONTENTS ԲՈՎԱՆԴԱԿՈՒԹԻՒՆ

Front cover photo: books in our library at our Onslow Street office.

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CELEBRATING 2O YEARS OF THE ARMENIAN INSTITUTE

By Susan Pattie

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AI’S NEXT 20 YEARS

By Tatevik Ayvazyan

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WE ASKED YOU LADIES & GENTLEMEN...

By Tatevik Ayvazyan & Susan Pattie

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DIASPORA: IRRELEVANT DISTRACTION, SUPPORTIVE PROP OR HOMELAND ITSELF?

By Susan Pattie

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RESISTING THE GENOCIDE TODAY

By Nicholas S.M. Matheou

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HOME SAINTS: THE AESTHETICS OF ARMENIAN VERNACULAR CHRISTIANITY

By Konrad Siekierski

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THE WAR HASN’T ENDED

By Hovsep Markarian

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ARTSAKH TODAY

By Lika Zakarian

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LEBANON: THE LAND OF FREQUENTING FAREWELLS & CONTINUOUS COLLAPSE

By Shahen Araboghlian

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ՀՈԳՈՒՍ ՀԱՄԱՐ

By Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian

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LOCKDOWN LAVASH

By Ed Stambollouian

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OLIVER BALDWIN’S SIX PRISONS AND TWO REVOLUTIONS

By Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian

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TREASURED OBJECTS

By Susan Pattie

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OUR EVENTS

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BOOK REVIEWS Dear readers Our inaugural issue of Zanazan was received warmly earlier this year, encouraging us to continue our work. So, here it is our second issue! The second issue of 2021 coincides with the Armenian Institute’s 20th anniversary, and we have a special spread about its history. We also talk about the organisation’s future and share the findings of our survey amongst AI’s followers. We have also followed up on the topics from our first issue, and included reports from three young people based in Artsakh, Lebanon and Armenia about the aftermath of the war and the Beirut explosion. Zanazan Issue 2 - true to its name – also brings you a diverse and delicious selection of articles, including a striking photo-essay, dolma recipe, short story in West Armenian, book reviews, interviews from little-known Armenian communities and more. We hope this magazine will invite you to follow our events, join language classes, listen to podcasts, participate in workshops and visit the library, whether in person or online.

Zanazan carries on from our earlier publications, Bardez/Partez and AI News.

Staff writers/editors: Susan Pattie, Tatevik Ayvazyan, Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian, Nicholas S.M. Matheou, Sahika Erkonan,Olivia Melkonian.

Graphic design: Anoushka Berberian Zanazan Issue 2, November 2021 Published by the Armenian Institute ISSN 2634-8314 (print) ISSN 2634-8322 (digital)

1 Onslow Street London EC1N 8AS

The views expressed by named authors in this issue of Zanazan do not necessarily reflect the views of the Armenian Institute. ©All material originated by Zanazan is the copyright of the Armenian Institute.

WELCOME The Armenian Institute has come such a long way in the last twenty years. Since a group of like-minded friends started it in 2001, AI has organised hundreds of arts and culture events – book launches, concerts, film festivals, and multi-day performances. It has developed an incredibly popular set of language classes, in Eastern, Western, and now also Ancient Armenian. The Library and Archives have grown from the foundational Dowsett collection to include over 8,000 books and eight archive collections. And most impressive is AI’s transformation from the small charity I first met in 2015, run by volunteers and one parttime staff member from the basement of St. Sarkis church hall, largely serving the London community, and with the Library and Archives in storage in Scotland after a flood in 2014. Now we are a small, professional staff- and volunteer-led charity based in bright new accommodation in Saffron Hill, our Library and Archives finally housed with us, our events reaching huge UK-wide and international audiences.

This amazing transformation was only possible thanks to our loyal donors over the last twenty years, the generosity of the Tanielian family providing 3 years of beautiful space, and a large grant from the National Lottery Heritage Fund. But the vibrant heart of AI remains the same. AI has always been and will continue to be a friendly and inclusive place for Armenians and non-Armenians to create community and learn about Armenian cultures, histories, and languages. We’ve also always been a bridge between the academic world and the community, and will continue to showcase the best of academic research for our audiences, while offering rich resources to scholars.

What do the next twenty years hold for AI? In part it depends on you – on what you want to see us do, and on your continued support. Our recent Survey told us that our audiences are overwhelmingly enthusiastic about what we do. So, from my perspective as Chair, I want to see AI build on the momentum of the last twenty years, and continue growing: expand our language classes, welcome visitors to our Library, and mount exhibitions in our new space; develop innovative programmes which entertain, inform, and offer new perspectives; reach ever-wider international audiences; and become a creative hub for the diaspora and its friends.

We can’t do this without you. Your feedback, participation, and donations make us what we are. Thank you for your continued support – and here’s to the next twenty years!

DR. BECKY JINKS Chair, AI Board of Trustees: Department of History, Royal Holloway London.

CELEBRATING 20 YEARS OF THE Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

By Susan Pattie, co-founder and former Director

Left : Stepan, Ani, Gagik and Hratch discuss AI’s beginnings (2001).

Right : AI’s first Vernissage/Winter Festival with food, crafts and fun (2002).

Twenty-one years ago a group of friends began dreaming of creating an organisation that would enable us to enjoy and learn more about Armenian arts and academic research. Others were invited to discuss what they thought would enhance Armenian life in London and, eventually the Armenian Institute was born. AI pledged to create a library to house the collection, newly purchased by the AGBU, of Prof. Charles Dowsett, first Chair of Armenian Studies at Oxford. We agreed that the library and all our events must be accessible to a broad audience, including non-Armenians, from diverse backgrounds and interests. Requests came for adult Armenian language classes which continue to grow.

Our varied events are AI’s public face, appealing to minds and hearts and a sense of adventure. We have ourselves truly enjoyed the range of events, from intimate salons to blockbuster exhibitions. I have loved them all, from the first one presenting children’s theatre with the story of Anahid to the international conference “Identities Without Borders”, performances of the Sayat Nova Ensemble, Collectif Medz Bazar, lectures, and poetry. Many have mentioned the exceptional Salon Mashup at Shoreditch Town Hall, also among my top favourites. Directed by Seta White, some 40 artists and performers were brought together to collaborate on new pieces on themes of migration and resettlement.

AI’s strong point has been its mix of arts and academia, complementing each other and providing new perspectives.

Interactive workshops – whether cooking, illustrating, writing, dancing or performing – have enabled us to expand our own skills and creativity.

AI is committed to bringing a space that encourages active engagement. One of my favourites in this vein was “My Dear Brother: Armenians in Turkey 100 Years Ago”, Osman Köker’s brilliant illustration of Ottoman Armenian presence and history through postcards. With the accompanying “Treasured Objects”, created by AI, this drew over 10,000 people to visit the Brunei Gallery at the School of African and Oriental Studies over 3 months.

Lectures, workshops and performances related to the exhibitions covered various aspects of Ottoman life.

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Towards the end of these first 20 years we received an amazing invitation from the Tanielian family to move AI to a wonderful, bright space in central London where the library can be properly catalogued, displayed and used. A major grant from the National Lottery Heritage Fund has allowed us to transition to a new generation of smart, techsavvy, very talented staff . We are thrilled to be in this space and look forward to welcoming everyone to continue on the journey.

We’ve invited a few people who have been with AI since its earliest years to tell us about their favourite Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 events. We begin with Dr. Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian, the backbone of AI from day 1. A co-founder and trustee, he organised the books, becoming AI’s Librarian and Resource Advisor. He is also Head of Language Tuition but these titles do not begin to describe the multitude and variety of tasks he has performed throughout these 20 years to keep AI going.

Co-founders Bedo Eghiayan and Razmik Panossian at book fair, one of AI’s inaugural events (2001).

Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian I owe Ani King-Underwood my involvement with AI. Through her I met Susan Pattie who invited me to join the brainstorming sessions laying the foundations of AI. Thus, my lifetime hobby of indiscriminate interest in all things Armenian found its milieu.

The two major exhibitions and the multifarious arts event Salon Mashup are indelible – how did we manage to make them happen? But one event sticks out; an event whose emotionally charged nature almost moved me to tears. Seta White’s creation of the haunting reading of postcards written over a hundred years ago, whispered in semi-darkness, brought back to life voices sometimes heard in unison, sometimes overlapping, and yet speaking to each other and the audience. The audience was mesmerised and a prolonged silence prevailed at the end before someone dared to clap.

Theo Maarten van Lint (Professor of Armenian Studies at University of Oxford, former Chair of Board of Trustees) The outstanding memorable event for me was Ronald Suny’s presentation about his inner journey that led him to write They Can Live in the Desert but Nowhere Else. A History of the Armenian Genocide.

An acclaimed and highly accomplished academic showed how the personal and emotional combined with the general and the intellectual in a moving and brilliant testimony of personal growth. We rarely witness an author’s long inner struggle for what becomes an indispensable work.

Shakeh Major Tchilingirian (Co-founder, participated in first AI events, The Anahid Story, frequent performer and workshop leader for AI, former member of Advisory Committee) One of the most memorable experiences is when after teaching a “Wedding Gyovnd” from Van to a group of Armenian and non-Armenian dance enthusiasts at Cecil Sharpe House (2002), one woman dashed out and brought a Scottish couple and their wedding guests in full regalia and we circle danced around them—living and sharing our heritage.

Language teachers Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian and Sona Kalenderian with trustee Ani King-Underwood at language workshop (2018).

Hratch Tchilingirian (Co-founder, creator of AI logo, former member of Board of Trustees) A “Tour of Armenian London”, led by historian Christopher Walker (2004), traced London locations associated with 19th to early 20th century Armenian history with running commentary in a capacity-filled large bus. We walked in a Hammersmith neighbourhood, along “Batoum Road”, “Osman Road” and into “Loris Road”, named, Walker said, after General Loris Melikoff, an Armenian commander in the Russian Army.

He explained that these street names reflected differences in British politics then, between those who preferred the preservation of empires and those who supported self-determination.

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The Anahide Story, from AI’s first events. Co-founder Shakeh Major Tchilingiiran dances with the children as they tell the story (2001).

Hasmig Topalian Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 (Member of AI’s Advisory Committee and supervolunteer from the beginning) On a warm June evening in 2019 AI, in association with St Sarkis church, hosted the Cantorelli Choir to a packed crowd. The Choir, from West Yorkshire, already included the Armenian liturgy in their repertoire but wanted to perform to an Armenian audience.

Those present were amazed by the Choir’s rendition of Komitas folk songs and I personally felt very Nouritza Matossian with Vahakn Matossian at the humbled that a choir of this calibre honoured our Armenian Banquet at the Globe (2014). culture.

Nouritza Matossian (Co-founder, bridge-builder with other UK institutions, Advisory Committee member and former trustee, Director in 2015 and creator of events) Personally memorable are my onewoman show “Black Angel: the Double Life of Arshile Gorky” (2004), a salsa dance and auction on HMS President, a seminal lecture by Hrant Dink (2006) followed by annual events on the anniversary of his death, Armenian history course, Cinema Salon, an Armenian Banquet at the Globe Theatre; an Armenian evening, with talk, dance, music and film at the Dash Cafe; History of Armenian Art series with the Royal Asiatic Society.

Khachig Tölölyan about to give AI’s first lecture, with Susan Pattie at the LSE (2001).

Armenag Topalian (part of the team that worked with the Charles Dowsett collection from the first days) A glorious episode in the AI’s 20 years existence occurred at its inception when it took over the late Professor Dowsett’s library. Huge in size, extensive in subject matter, with rarities carefully collected over decades, it had to meet challenges before moving to its current location in Farringdon. It has developed into a significant well-managed resource consulted by scholars from around the world.

Sayat Nova Ensemble concert at the Conway Hall, directed by Levon Chilingirian (2007).

Programme of first AI Brunei Gallery (SOAS) exhibition (2006).

Karen Babayan (Artist and participant in many events including Salon Mashup, Treasured Objects, Layered Lives) AI is a cultural lifeline for me where I exist both as an artist and audience. Stand-out events are Treasured Objects (2010) and Salon Mashup (2013) where meaningful collaborations with other artists working in dance and theatre, have endured and borne fruit as other projects. AI eased lockdown isolation, teaching me to animate my work, read and write in my mother tongue and cook Armenian manti.

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

Osman Köker showing visitors his exhibition Armenians in Turkey 100 Years Ago, Brunei Gallery, SOAS (2010).

Historian Christopher Walker leads a tour of Armenian historical sites in West London (2004).

Rouben Galichian (Former Chair of Board of Trustees) The Armenian Institute was the best thing that happened in the life of the UK Armenian community, regarding Armenian culture and identity, making us known to our non-Armenian friends. I am lucky to have been a member and will always remember our meetings as really serving a visible purpose. My most memorable event is the establishment of AI and now, AI having a proper home. I wish AI an active, busy life as one of the active institutions of culture in London.

Richard Anooshian (Treasurer, AI Board of Trustees, long-term donor and volunteer) It was 15 years ago when I met up with Susan and we embarked upon an informal strategy and brain-storming session about AI. We fantasised about moving to new premises which would be a proper home for AI and our growing library. Dreams do come true ...

Readers with poetry curator Tatevik Ayvazyan after AI’s screening of film Taniel by Garo Berberian (2019).

The Road to Ras al-Ain by Alexandra Kharibian (costume designer) performed by Lucine Hakobyan at Salon Mashup (2013). Photo: Alexei Emam.

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Visiting the new AI space in Farringdon, in its early stages (2019).

Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

AI’S NEXT 20 YEARS

By Tatevik Ayvazyan

Photos of our staff taken in our Farringdon office.

Today, as I write these words, my Facebook memories remind me that I was appointed director of the Armenian Institute exactly a year ago, something I’m still excited and proud about.

We see ourselves as pioneers too, discovering, unearthing and introducing new academic works and concepts, innovative artistic creations, interesting stories and people. Our Armenian Studies Group, film premieres, book launches and ‘Uncover’ and ‘Discover’ podcast series are all platforms for emerging, unknown or forgotten voices.

What a year it has been though! When submitting funders’ reports, we usually prepare a list of potential and actual risks and during ‘normal’ years, the risks are usually mundane. The risk register of 2020 included a global pandemic, genocidal war, explosion in Beirut, severely postponed move, and thus delays to organising the library and new space.

Another important aspect of our work that we are constantly developing is raising awareness and educating. The popularity of our excellent language classes, Diaspora Forum panels, events and blogs about Artsakh, Book clubs and Treasures from the Library series is proof that there is so much demand for learning and quality information.

And guess what? Not only did we survive without cutting down the operations or furloughing staff, but we managed to grow, expand and evolve almost weekly – like some magical beanstalk. The beanstalk was continuously fed by our desire to continue the fantastic work of AI’s last 20 years, our enthusiasm for sharing new ideas with our followers, and most importantly – our deep sense of care and responsibility towards the community.

The biggest treasure of the Armenian Institute is its staff. Surrounded by an excellent board of trustees, advisory committee, generous donors and a very supportive community, we are the beating heart of our little organisation, bringing vibrancy to our work through our varied expertise and multi-layered backgrounds – Armenian, British, American, Iranian, Cypriot, Lebanese, Turkish, spyurqahay, haysatantsi…

As an arts and culture charity - a wide and wonderful concept that I’m thankful to the founders for – we have many goals and aspirations. We see the Armenian Institute as not only preserving our existing cultural, literary, art and linguistic treasures but also curating them intelligently, entertainingly, in a way that is relevant to today’s world, in a way that touches the viewers and the reader. Equally important, AI is part of evolving Armenian cultures around the world, growing and creating, and finding new ways to be Armenian.

I know that AI will continue growing stronger for the next 20 years because people are interested in Armenian arts, culture, language and history and because we have many ideas and stories to tell.

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

WE ASKED YOU, LADIES & GENTLEMEN...

By Tatevik Ayvazyan & Susan Pattie We are grateful to all who filled in our questionnaire earlier this year. Generous and helpful responses help us make future plans accordingly. One hundred and sixteen people took part, some associated with AI from the beginning, others joining us recently.

Respondents were mostly from across the UK but also around the world with ancestral roots showing families coming from historic Armenia, the Middle East, Armenia and Artsakh.

ads in Armenian media, a networking hub especially for younger people.

-Include Russian-speaking Armenians. Do more events for the British to introduce the culture, not only ancient history and poetry, but also contemporary: business, innovation, science, medicine.

-Create reading lists after events to enable people to learn more.

The “communal, neighbourly feel” of AI’s events was mentioned often with appreciation for community forged through the many diverse activities during Covid lockdowns. Some added they are looking forward to sharing a drink together after an event.

“The events are very contemporary and relevant, and I believe they reflect modern Armenian identity and they’re welcoming for non-Armenians.”

“You have been able to combine Armenianness with an openness to the outside world. AI is where I feel comfortable and enthusiastic”.

We received requests to introduce more children’s and young people’s events, such as: “Dance workshops / courses / performances, cookery, drama workshops, fairs and feasts connected (with) special anniversaries in our cultural calendar.” Also, “family-based events such as shows of some type.” “Bilingual musical or theatrical events” or “chess tournaments, language classes, Armenian traditional games, learning poems and cooking”.

While a few are tired of online events, others said they rely on Zoom because of distance or find it more convenient. In future, we will provide blended events (online and physical) where possible. The library and NLHF theme of Literary Heritage received much interest. Many wish to consult the librarian and have the collection digitised and widely available. Book Clubs and Book on Display were enjoyed and more digital output as follow-up from these events requested. A music section and an oral history section were requested suggesting interviews with grandparents and people from various diasporas.

For young people over 18, networking and work-related mentorship were most frequently requested, including opportunities to just meet up.

Specific ideas included : “Identity and belonging: create a space of exchange between Republic of Armenia and diasporan Armenians to appreciate the differences as an enrichment and not a hinderance to an Armenian identity” Another suggestion was to organise open mics for performers in that age group, or craftbased workshops like jewellery.

There were many suggestions for fundraising, including a quiz night, dinner-dance, selling Armenian products. We were reminded to ask for funds more often and, taking a cue from these wise people, we close with a request to help us continue to improve and innovate by visiting armenianinstitute.org.uk/support-us. Thank you for your ideas, advice, and continuing support.

Hope to see you soon online or in-person!

Our language classes and teachers were praised: “The quality and community aspect of the language courses keep me returning and always excited to participate…”. Some mentioned they felt it helped them honour their roots. Suggestions included introducing new formats of language classes, which we are considering.

How to improve? Ideas included: more publicity,

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

DIASPORA: IRRELEVANT DISTRACTION, SUPPORTIVE PROP OR HOMELAND ITSELF?

By Susan Pattie Some 20 years ago, the Armenian Institute was founded by people who felt strongly that 10 years after the independence of Armenia, increasing attention and mounting hopes pinned on the evolution of the new state seemed predicated on a belief that the diaspora(s) had done its job, treading water until the birth of a nation-state. We had a choice of going there to be the “real thing” on site or stay in diaspora, work and support the “homeland” and eventually disappear.

By now there have been more recent waves of dispersion, most recently from Iran, the Republic and Artsakh, newcomers who enrich and change the dynamics and have different needs and expectations of diaspora life Growing up, for Chahinian the word “homeland” encompassed not only today’s Armenia but also all of West Armenia.

Trips to Armenia shifted that a bit but as visits continued, more cultural differences emerged.

For her, the identities and spaces that we carve out include a linguistic community within which West Armenian is key for her. While the literary heritage passed down to her through diaspora educational institutions suggested “Language as home, language as native land,” her own relationship with the notion of homeland has evolved from having a sense of portable home to being comfortable with not feeling at home anywhere.

The first event organised by AI was a lecture by Prof.

Khachig Tőlőlyan, founder and editor of Diaspora: a Journal of Transnational Studies. As we celebrate AI’s 20th anniversary, the editorship of this groundbreaking journal, passes to Dr. Sossie Kasbarian (an AI founding member) and Dr. Talar Chahinian who both joined me in an informal conversation reflecting on living in diaspora.

For Kasbarian, living in the UK since the age of 18 her attachment had been more intellectual and political, a sense of being part of a rather “invisible” minority and coming to terms with “having multiple attachments and cultures”. She says she “almost embraces that position” and the notion of a diaspora person as outsider, encouraging a sense of kinship with others on the peripheries.

Following the recent war, she says she feels “more Armenian than ever in her life”.

From different generations, upbringings and local spaces, we are all descendents of the dispersion following the Genocide and loss of West Armenia.

Chahinian, raised in Beirut, a “West Armenian world” that thought of itself as a – or “the”-diaspora centre -- moved to Los Angeles at the age of 10. There she found varied narratives of what it meant to be and act Armenian.

Born in Cyprus, Kasbarian attended international schools in Bahrain, only really exposed to Armenian institutions at 16, back in Cyprus. Her Armenian world was family. A generation older, I was raised outside any Armenian infrastructure, with an angloAmerican father, but surrounded by Genocide survivors. Our family identity then was more local, Kessabtsi.

Asked how their thinking had evolved since joining Diaspora as co-editors, Chahinian said that earlier she wondered whether diaspora had come to mean so many things that it might be losing its potency.

“Instead, reading the pieces submitted to the journal has restored its relevance for me.”

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 Kasbarian agreed, saying that she feels it has increasing importance, and is “a creative concept, getting richer every year”.

of a “state language”, one that becomes the new standard. In general, few want to discuss forms of “diaspora-building”. There are important exceptions, including the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation’s Armenian Department activities, the recent rebuilding of NAASR, plans for a new museum in LA. Kasbarian mentioned the founding of AI as providing for her a space of openness, inclusivity and creativity. Generally though, there is a rapidly decreasing variety and number of spaces to gather and do things together, whether learning or having fun, making contact.

Chahinian had begun by noting that the 2020 war has changed the ways we think about living in diaspora. Having grown up with war in Beirut, surrounded by Armenian schools and institutions, now living in the Armenian worlds of Los Angeles, she sees life coming in cycles. For Kasbarian, the recent war has prompted a more emotional connection and a desire to find meaningful ways to become more involved with Armenia and Artsakh, and with Armenian diasporan life.

The conversation ended with agreement that the Armenian diasporas are spaces of engagement, encouraging a sense of belonging to a larger group and shared history, if not a geographic place.

However, such attitudes and intentions need to include recognition that being Armenian takes many forms, that difference can be both positive and worthy of nurturing, The diaspora is home for many of us, a vital space we feel privileged to be part of. It also needs our support to continue and grow.

Our conversation turned to concerns about the diaspora, present and future. Chahinian noted that the impact of Armenia’s independence on the diaspora has not been seriously discussed. With attention focused on the Republic and Artsakh, diaspora institutions are not being supported, not enabled to update and evolve with the different needs of new generations. The vitality of West Armenian has been diminished by the presence now

Armenian Heritage Park on The Greenway in Boston, MA, is a gift from the Armenian-American community. The sculpture at its centre, a split romboid dodecahedron, changes shape annually, reflecting immigrant experiences, adaptations and changes as life goes on. It is dedicated to those who lost their lives in the Armenian Genocide and to victims of all genocides. Photo: Peter Vanderwerker (2012).

For more information: www.armenianheritagepark.org

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RESISTING THE GENOCIDE TODAY

Interview with Nubar Melkonyan from the Armenian Social Council of North-East Syria Edited & introduced by Nicholas S.M. Matheou Photo: by Rodî , A banner from the April 24th commemorations in 2021.

INTRODUCTION North-east Syria holds a black spot in Armenian history. The death marches of 1915 passed through the cities of the modern Turkish-Syrian border on their way to the deserts of Deir Ezzor.

Many survivors stranded along the way were taken in and raised as Muslim Arabs and Kurds, but they retained a sense of their lost heritage, and became semi-assimilated “hidden Armenians”. Yet social taboos and the political situation meant little could be done to reach them and their descendants.

Fast forward to the Syrian Revolution in 2012, and this began to change. While the revolution in the Arab-majority regions slowly and sadly developed into a civil war, in the Kurdish-majority areas of the north and east, commonly known as “Rojava” meaning “West [Kurdistan]”, another revolution was taking off. Kurdish groups led this revolution, pioneered by women and youth, but the project is avowedly multi-ethnic, manifesting in Kurds, SyriacAssyrian-Chaldeans, and Arabs self-organising community councils and self-defence.

The situation of Armenians was somewhat different.

Understandably with the developing civil war, many Christian Armenians continue to support Assad. On the other hand, many semi-assimilated Armenians organised under Kurdish and Arab umbrellas.

On April 24th 2018, however, Christian and Muslim Armenians came together in Ras al-Ain/ Serekanîye to organise themselves as Armenians,

founding the Şehîd Nubar Ozanyan self-defence force—named after an Armenian from Turkey who died in the liberation of ISIS’ claimed capital, Raqqa.

Exactly one year later the Armenian Social Council was founded.

The following questions were sent to one of the council’s members, Nubar Melkonyan, who teaches the history of the Genocide.

HOW DO YOU DEFINE THE STRUGGLE AGAINST ASSIMILATION? Assimilation is the erasure and absorption of the languages, religions, cultures and identities of different peoples, under the pressure of a dominant majority, cutting them off from their own cultural identity, past and lifestyle.

It is especially difficult for migrant communities to withstand the dominant and prevalent culture.

All manner of press and media organisations, universities, schools and places of worship and faith are in the hands of the dominant group. So, generally, it is very difficult to fight against assimilation.

But the situation of Armenians in Syria is different.

Armenians suffered a genocide rather than assimilation. They were massacred. They have suffered a great deal of physical and mental trauma.

All their opportunities to live freely were taken from them. Their reproductive rights have been taken

away from them. Women and children were forcibly converted to Islam. Their names, identities, and religions were forcibly changed.

So Armenians in Syria have experienced genocide more than assimilation as such. Although today it is not the same as in 1915, acts of genocidal assimilation are continually added to the original crime of genocide. Some Armenians may have had schools and churches in their mother tongue, but these opportunities do not mean that they are not also influenced by the dominant Arab culture and lifestyle.

WHAT ARE THE STRUGGLES OF MUSLIM ARMENIANS AGAINST GENOCIDE AND ASSIMILATION? The Rojava Revolution is very important for Armenians living in north-east of Syria, and within Syria more generally. The Rojava Revolution has created an awakening. It created the possibility of self-understanding, recognition and identification.

Just as the Arab, Kurdish, Syrian, Assyrian and Yezidi peoples, the Armenian people now have a historical opportunity unprecedented in the last century.

We now have the opportunity to learn our mother tongue and keep our culture and traditions alive, as well as to organise freely. The genocide created a rupture and distortion of our past, so that we’ve ended up with names like Muhamed Ohannes and Ahmet Kasapyan. There has been a coming together of two different cultures, two different languages, which would have never come together and sit side by side. And this continues to happen today.

The struggle of Armenians against assimilation in Syria is a struggle to exist, to resist, and to withstand the ongoing genocide. We have distinctive features from other peoples which we should maintain.

Yet many were both Islamised and Arabised or Kurdified. Therefore, these Armenians’ struggle is double-sided and heavy. Hundreds of thousands of Armenian women and children were forced to convert to Islam, and their languages and beliefs were forcibly changed. They have experienced a situation that a normal mind can hardly imagine.

The Armenian Social Council is an organisation founded to struggle against this ongoing genocide.

We attempt to return our people to our roots by

giving lessons in Armenian language to women, children, and everyone who wishes to take part.

These people are trying to learn about their own history by taking lessons on the Genocide.

There are still so many people out there to reach.

There are still lots of Armenians living among Muslims, Arabs and Kurds, all of whom should be re-acquainted with their own language, culture and identity.

Of course, Christian Armenians are also trying to preserve their language and identity. But, despite their larger number, Islamised Armenians face a more serious problem. They are faced with the responsibility of getting acceptance from Muslim Arabs and Kurds, and from Christian Armenians.

They’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, and experience profound cultural trauma as a result. So the task today is to establish more Armenian social councils, and generally to organise and fight against genocide and assimilation.

Intergenerational language lessons at the Social Council in Qamishlo.

You can follow the Armenian Social Council and the Şehîd Nubar Ozanyan Armenian self-defence force on Facebook, Twitter & Instagram. A solidarity campaign was recently launched for the Armenian community through Red Help International, for more information see: https://armenian-rojava.org/ For in-depth information on the situation and political system of north-east Syria, including the conditions of Armenians and other Christian minorities, visit: https://rojavainformationcenter.com/

HOME SAINTS: Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 THE AESTHETICS OF ARMENIAN VERNACULAR CHRISTIANITY

By Konrad Siekierski

A recently constructed shrine of a home saint. Many similar chapels were built in Armenia in late Soviet and postSoviet times, either at the initiative of a home saint’s custodian or at the request of the saint (usually expressed in a dream vision). Shirak region .

Armenian Apostolic Christianity is famous for its unique sacred art and architecture, such as the rich reliefs and perfect proportions of the Holy Cross cathedral on Akhtamar island, the intricate carvings of khachkars of Noratus or Gosh, and splendid manuscripts illuminated by Toros Roslin.

multivalent’ and the distinction between different layers of its meaning is often blurred. It simultaneously denotes the supernatural power that manifests itself in this word, the object which embodies this power, and the shrine where that sacred object is kept. Among the objects that can double as home saints are old, sometimes manuscript, Gospel Books, scroll amulets (hmayil), and copies of the Book of Lamentations by St. Gregory of Narek, as well as crosses and crossstones (khachkar) or their fragments.

In the shade of this glory, the landscape of Armenia – its villages and towns, mountains and ravines – is dotted with unofficial sacred places and shrines that people visit both in time of need and for communal feasts. Among these vernacular forms of sacralisation and ‘making visible the invisible,’ as an American anthropologist Robert Orsi puts it, an important place is occupied by the so-called ‘home saints’ (tan surber). The term ‘home saint is

The shrines of home saints may be unassuming – a niche in the wall, a room, an old tonratun (a structure where an underground oven – tonir – is located), or a small stone chapel.

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 In fact, many of them are, in Orsi’s terms, ‘abundant places’ characterised ‘by excess of expression and experience.’ Such shrines are usually packed with embroidered votive cloths (shushpa), religious pictures and statues, models of churches, contemporary religious books, and other objects that custodians and pilgrims bring as gifts to the saint. The more venerated the home saint is, the higher the number and density of these votive offerings representing a variety of Christian traditions. In home saints’ shrines, visitors find Catholic images and figures (from the Sacred Heart of Jesus to da Vinci’s Last Supper to baroque-style angels), Orthodox icons of the Mother of God and

different saints, and Protestant Bibles – all gathered in unison and arranged according to the taste of a custodian or the instructions of a saint (usually expressed in a dream vision). The interiors of many home shrines resemble large-scale collages – assemblages of different materials and forms creating a new whole. Somewhat like the famous Armenian artist and film director, Sergey Parajanov, who created his artworks from broken china, scraps of fabric, and anything else he could find, the custodians of home saints assemble the various offerings, sometimes to a stunning effect. The following pictures present these unsung people and places.

Photo left: A home saint – an early printed Gospel Book with decorative cover – and its custodian. Gegharkunik region.

Konrad Siekierski, a cultural anthropologist specialising in modern Armenian religion and culture, is a PhD candidate in the Department of Theology and Religious Studies at King’s College London. His research on Armenian home saints was supported by scholarships from the London Arts and Humanities Partnership and the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation.

This essay uses a simplified romanisation of Armenian script, which avoids diacritics but does not follow academic standards.

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Saint Jakob (Surb Hakob) chapel (Gegharkunik region), located in a traditional 19th century Armenian house.

Several generations of its female custodians have been renowned for their gift of divination and healing, the fact attested by a great number of votive offerings adorning the shrine.

The chapel of a home saint called the Hindrance against Evil (Charr Khapan), a popular pilgrimage site, visited by the sick, victims of spell, and those suffering from fear. Here the custodian of the shrine blesses a group of women by uttering a prayer and placing the medieval manuscript Gospel Book on their heads. Ararat region.

The custodian of a home saint makes a sign of the cross over a sieve that she uses for divination. Divination on a sieve is an old custom that is gradually fading in Armenia. Shirak region.

THE WAR HASN’T ENDED

By Hovsep Markarian The morning after I wrote the initial draft for this piece, I woke up to a text from the editor of EVN Report, where I work as a staff writer, saying there had been another shooting on the border. I rushed to the office as I had done eight days before, and six days before that.

July 28 ended up being the most brutal of the clashes since Russia, Azerbaijan and Armenia signed the ceasefire agreement on November 9, 2020. Three men died from the Armenian side and a few were injured on both sides.

The war has clearly not ended. Whatever “peace” is implied by the trilateral agreement is hollow.

Peace is about those with the upper hand - Russia and Azerbaijan - getting what they want: routes and corridors at the expense of worthless souls.

I fail to understand whether my perspective is pessimistic or realistic, but regardless, I continue to maintain some optimism. After all, although time and space have been altered for many, life goes on.

Sometimes I get surprised as to how it does go on so effortlessly.

I can only speak for Yerevan, but the energy that’s in the capital is big and bright. Recently, the city hosted its fourth book and wine festivals, respectively, as well as its umpteenth Museum Night, which have palpably grown in size and ambition. The streets of central Yerevan, despite Covid, are busier than I ever remember, cafes and restaurants full of chatter and laughter.

Are people escaping the country’s painful reality?

Are they actively fighting against it by focusing on the positive? I don’t know. But I do know that the collective trauma we have endured will continue to inform the actions of many, just as I imagine it has for those on and near the other side of the border in the aftermath of the First Karabakh War. These days, I’m grateful initiatives like the Bright Garden Voices and CaucasusTalks exist. The communities formed around them, albeit virtually, give me hope. There will be no true peace if we don’t sit at the same table and engage with each other like mature adults. The question is, how many more lives until we do?

Photos by Gayane Ghazaryan. The left taken in the village of Bayandur, Shirak province (bordering Turkey).

The right (with the mural) taken on Artsakh Avenue, Yerevan.

ARTSAKH TODAY

By Lika Zakarian On November 10, we all woke up feeling like orphans, homeless, belonging to nothing, having no past...But as time went on, people returned home.

Some returned because they could not imagine living outside the homeland, and others simply had nowhere to go. Today more than 110,000 Artsakhtsis have returned home. According to official numbers, about 140,000 people lived here before the war. Life in Artsakh can be described in a few words.

Fear.

This one would be the first. Today, almost every settlement in Artsakh has become bordered. Hearing shots fired at night, then receiving information that the Azerbaijanis are just firing in the air is scary. For example, Taghavard village is divided into two parts, one part Azeri, the other, Armenian. In the Azerioccupied part are the cemetery and the school of the whole village. People are not able to visit the graves of their loved ones and lay flowers.

Pain.

People continue to live with the pain of loss. And many families are still finding out about the deaths of their loved ones, as the search continues to this day. For example, on Easter day no one celebrated a church holiday in our yard, because that day our neighbour’s body was found and it turned out that it was really him. People keep getting bad news, the child continues to live without a father, and the mother continues to sit in her only son’s room, hugging his last soft sweater.

Life in despair.

The life of the people living in the villages of Artsakh is difficult. Their main income is cattle-breeding and agriculture but many were deprived of their lands now under control of the enemy. The problem is different for cattle-breeding. In Mkhitarashen village, a villager says his cow crossed the border to graze and the Azeris caught it, slaughtered and ate it. For this man, that cow was a means of livelihood.

Who can he complain to? How can he get it back?

Closed for the world.

Foreigners being able to enter Artsakh is a big problem today whether international journalists or

Photo by Lika Zakarian: Gegham, lost his leg during the war. just people who want to visit. Clearly decisions on entry are not made by the Artsakh authorities. At the same time, the rehabilitation centre is full of wounded soldiers, who still fight for the right to live.

The biggest problem of all is the lack of vision about the future. People have no idea what will happen the next day, what future their children will have. The Artsakh authorities try to take actions to increase people’s sense of trust. Huge construction works have started to provide the displaced with houses. According to the Artsakh Ministry of Urban Development, after three years at the latest, all those displaced will be provided with homes.

However, gaining trust is not easy. It is clear that if we do not ensure our security anymore, we can not make big decisions.

Meanwhile, life goes on. People go to work, get married, have children, build houses. Yes, they build houses, despite the fact that they might be destroyed any day. If you walk down the street in the evening, you will see many people walking with children. Everything seems fine, as if they are ordinary people enjoying free time after work. But it is a crowd of people with broken hearts simply enjoying the seeming peace of the moment.

Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

LEBANON: THE LAND OF FREQUENTING FAREWELLS & CONTINUOUS COLLAPSE

By Shahen Araboghlian

Frequenting farewells and a collapsing country are now a daily part of my Lebanese reality.

Farewells, because none of my peers intend on staying. Farewells, because they are tired of laying their plans out and watching them perish into ashes of burnt hopes and dreams.

Farewells, because “why would anyone want to stay?” Farewells, because “Lebanon’s no longer livable.” Farewells, because “I want my kids growing up away.”Farewells, because “what they did to us is unforgivable!”

who want to lift simple weights off their shoulders.

Farewells pushed by university admissions and job applications, but not only; Farewells to escape to territories unknown, no matter how lonely.

Farewells, because Lebanon broke our hearts one too many a time, Farewells, because poverty’s real and the currency’s on decline.

Farewells, because we’d rather stand in museum and concert queues, Than in lines of bread and meds or begging for fuel.

Farewells range from parties and drinks to tears at the airport, with “until next time...” and “make us proud!” and a selfie with a passport.

Farewells, because the blast was too brutal and devastating, As they demolished and knocked down, instead of creating.

Farewells of family and friends, who want to make ends meet. Farewells of colleagues and classmates,

Farewells, because life with certainty is an impossibility here,

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 Rights and wants and dignity Have all but disappeared.

Collapse, because I’m writing this on a smartphone hotspot and low battery, Because cuts have become a norm: no proper WiFi, no electricity.

Farewells, because MDs earning less than half a worth Undoubtedly calls for brain drain.

Because art, culture, and intellect emigrate too, I’ve seen them depart on an airplane.

Collapse, because the news say so.

Collapse, because the stats indicate it.

Collapse paralysing head-to-toe.

Collapse, how else should I frame it?

Farewells, because we’re tired of being stuck in looping political traps. Farewells, because there’s nothing left in Lebanon but continuous collapse.

Farewells and collapse have plagued Lebanon contagiously.

Farewells and collapse have jolted us hard, faithlessly.

A collapse of every possible sector imaginable, A collapse, throwing us into situations unfathomable.

Farewells and collapse have become A part of our reality, Our identity.

Collapse driven by the elite and warlords who’ve been forever ruling, By those who profit off of collapse and failure and sectarian conflict fueling.

We are defined by farewells and collapse, Farewells and collapse have defined us,

Collapse that’s pushed a vast majority into hunger and starvation, Collapse caused by negligence and mismanagement of our nation.

As we dance in circles in Infamous Lebanon:

Collapse that’s shoved a population into stress, trauma, and depression, But also collapse that’s denied it of needed pharmaceutical medication.

The Land of Frequenting Farewells & Continuous Collapse.

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

ՀՈԳՈՒՍ ՀԱՄԱՐ Առանձար Հա՛ն-գա՛-նա՛-կո՛ւ-թի՛ւն: Չկայ բառ մը հայ լեզուին մէջ, որ ասոր չափ անախորժութիւն և տեսակ մը արհաւիրք պատճառէր ինծի: Իր հինգ լեցուն վանկերուն թաւ հնչիւնը ամէն անգամ որ ականջիս հասնի, ծանր փայտէ զանգուածեղ թակի մը հինգ հարուածները կը զգամ գանկիս վրայ, աչքերս կը մթագնին ու տրամադրութիւնս վայրկենաբար զերօյէն 25 աստիճան վար կ’իջնէ: Պատճառը սակայն սխալ չկռահէք: Դուռս միշտ բաց է այս սոսկալի բառով զայն բախողներուն առջև և քսակս ալ նոյնչափ բաց: Ու կը վստահացնեմ ձեզ, որ պարծանքի համար չեմ ըսեր աս, և արդէն պարծենալու մեծ պատճառ ալ չունիմ, որովհետև դժբախտաբար դուռս փոքր է ու քսակս համեմատաբար շատ աւելի փոքր: Ուրեմն բոլորովին հակառակ պարագային մէջ պէտք է փնտռէք վերոյիշեալ բառին ինծի ազդած սոսկումին պատճառը. այսինքն երբ ինծի կը վիճակուի զայն բերան առնել ու դռնէ դուռ իյնալ: Անցեալին մէջ յաճախ կատարած եմ այս կեանք մաշող դռնբացէքի արարողութիւնը և շատ անգամ կրածս բարոյական տառապանքներէն ուժաթափ, քանի մը օր անկողին ինկած ու մեծամեծ երդումներով ուխտած եմ ա՛լ չկոխել ազգային գործունէութեան այդ ճիւղին վրայ: Սակայն ընկերներս, ազգային գերագոյն պարտականութեան և անձնուիրութեան հանդիսաւոր կոչումներով ու յորդորներով` ամէն անգամին ալ ուխտս ոտնակոխ ընել տուած են ինծի: Բա՜յց, բայց ըսուած է, որ ամէն համբերութիւն սահման ունի, հետևաբար և ազգային մուրացկանի համբերութիւնը: Իմ հեզ ու գլխիկոր համբերութիւնս ալ, ասկէ եօթ տարի առաջ, հանգանակութեան մը կիսուն, յանկարծ ամեհի կատաղութեամբ մը ծառացաւ և այնպիսի ահաւոր ու վճռական երդում մը ընել տուաւ ինծի, որ ա՛յն օրէն` ամբողջ եօ՜թ տարի` կրցայ վերջապէս հաւատարիմ մնալ ուխտիս: Եւ սակայն բան մը, որուն մինչև այսօր ալ խելք չեմ կրցած հասցընել, սա ընկերներուս տարօրինակ ընթացքն է: Այս երանելի մարդոց համար կարծես մինչև իսկ հաճոյք մը ունի ազգային

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մուրացկանութիւնը: Առիթը ներկայանալուն` կամ ինչպէս իրենք կ’ըսեն պարտականութեան կոչը հնչելուն պէս` փողոցն է այս հինգ հոգինոց խումբը: Արդէն երկար տարիներու փորձառութեամբ իւրաքանչիւրը այնքան լաւ սերտած է իր դերը, որ տեսակ մը զինուորական կարգապահութիւն կը տիրէ մէջերնին: Գիտեն թէ փողոցին մէջ ի՞նչ կարգով պիտի քալեն, դուռը ո՞վ պիտի զարնէ, ո՞վ պիտի ըլլայ մուտքի ճառը արտասանողը, հանգանակութեան տոմարը ներկայացնողը, պահեստի խօսողը, նուէրը գանձողը և այլն և այլն: Ու այս ամբողջ դժուարին գործը այնպիսի՜ երկայնամտութեամբ, հմտութեամբ ու վարժ ձևերով կը կատարեն, որ չճանչցող մը արհեստին մէջ ծնած պիտի կարծէր զիրենք: Զորօրինակ` շատ անգամ կը պատահի որ իմաստուն ու հեռատես մեծ-աղա-մը – և մեծ-աղաներէն ո՞ր մէկը իմաստուն ու հեռատես չէ – ասոնց ճառերէն յուզուելու ո՛ևէ տրամադրութիւն ցոյց չտալէ զատ, ընդհակառակը ինք ալ իր կողմէ երկարաշունչ ճառ մը կ’ըսկսի ապացուցանելու համար թէ ձեռնարկուած հանգանակութիւնը օգուտ մը չունի, մինչև իսկ վնասակար հետևանքներ կրնայ ունենալ, աւելորդ է և մէկ խօսքով պարզապէս տղու գործ է: Իսկ ընկերներս առանց վշտանալու, առանց գրգռուելու, առանց վհատելու, պաղարիւն` լրջութեամբ մը կը շարունակեն: Վերջաւորութիւնը ան կ’ըլլայ որ մեծ-աղան օձիքը ազատելու համար կը հանէ բան մը կուտայ: Բայց ինչ ալ ըլլայ այդ «բան»-ին քանակը, դէմքերնին միշտ նոյն գոհունակ հանդարտութիւնը կը պահէ և հանգանակութիւնը «յաջող» կը համարեն, եթէ մինչեւ անգամ ամբողջ շաբաթ մը դռնէ դուռ շրջելէ յետոյ, այս թափառումի միջոցին մաշած իրենց հինգ զոյգ կօշիկներուն նորոգութեանն իսկ չբաւելիք գումար մը միայն հաւաքած ըլլան: Ահա բարոյապէս զմռսուած այս արարածներն են, որ դեռ հանգիստ չեն թողներ զիս: Ամէն առթիւ կը պախարակեն, կը դատապարտեն «դասալքութիւն»ս, կը դատապարտեն «դասալքութիւն»ս, անտարբերութեան ու անպարտաճանաչութեան մեղադրանքներ կը նետեն երեսիս և կը

Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 ջանան համոզել որ այս անգամ ալ դրժեմ «անիմաստ» ուխտիս ու կրկին մէջերնին մտնելով խումբին անզոյգ մնացած թիւը ջուխտեմ: Ես ի հարկէ` ուժգնօրէն կը բողոքեմ այս ծանր ամբաստանութիւններուն դէմ, եօթ տարի առաջուան դէպքը կը յիշեցնեմ իրենց, և իրենց գործնական դպրոցին մէջ սորված ամբողջ փաստաբանութիւնս կը գործածեմ ինքզինքս արդարացնելու: Սակայն պէտք է խոստովանիմ որ շատ անգամ բաւական կ’ազդուիմ իրենց խօսքերէն, ներքնապէս կը թուլնամ ու խղճի խայթի պէս բաներ մը կըզգամ: Մանաւա՜նդ երկու պատկերներ կան, քուրջերու մէջէ հանուած հինգ ոսկիին և պզտիկ քսակի մը մէջ զետեղուած հինգ նոր, պսպղուն քառսուն փարանոցի անմոռանալի պատկերները, որոնք ամէն անգամ որ աչքիս առջև կուգան` խիղճս ալ կըսկսի ընկերներուս կողմը բռնել ու քիչ կը մնայ կրկին ուխտադրուժ ըլլամ: Ուստի շատ տանջուելէ ու շատ մտածելէ ետքը` որոշեցի մեկուսացմանս շարժառիթն եղող վերջին կիսատ հանգանակութիւնս իր իսկութեամբն ու ամբողջութեամբը պատմել ընթերցողներուս և ինքզինքս անոնց դատաստանին յանձնել: Եղերնին յաջորդող երկրորդ կիրակին է: Ժամուն զանգակները կը ղօղանջեն մեռելական հանդիսաւորութեամբ մը, ծանր ու դանդաղ: Հայոց թաղին օրերէ ի վեր ամայացած փողոցներէն առաջին անգամն ըլլալով մեծ բազմութիւն մը կ՛անցնի, ուրուականներու պէս անաղմուկ ու անշշուկ և հոյակապ եկեղեցին տաղաւար տօներու խռնումով մը կը լեցուի: Պատարագի կիսուն` մեր ծերունի վարդապետը քարոզի կը կենայ: –Հա՛յ ժողովուրդ, մեռնողները մեռան ազատեցան, Աստուած անոնց հոգուն պիտի ողորմի, մնացողներուն վիճակն է դժուար: Գիւղերէն քանի մը հազար խեղճեր քաղաք թափած են, անօթի, մերկ, անպատսպար. քաղաքին մէջ ալ գործ ու վաստակ դադրած է, խեղճութիւնը ամէն կողմ բռնած: Ձմեռը վրայ կը հասնի, մեր սև բախտէն` այս տարի ամէն տարուընէ աւելի խիստ: Չքաւորներուն օգնելու համար յանձնաժողով մը կազմած ենք, որ տնէ տուն շրջելով հանգանակութիւն պիտի ընէ. բայց օգնութեան պէտքը անմիջական է, այս օրեր արդէն քանի մը սովամահներու դիակը բերին գերեզմաննոց. այդ պատճառով հիմա անմիջապէս պնակ պիտի պտըտցնենք մէջերնիդ: Քրիստոնէական գթութիւնն ու եղբայրսիրութիւնը ա’յս օրերուն համար են մանաւանդ:

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Տուէ՛ք, օգնեցէ՛ք, պատառ մը հաց ունեցողը թո՛ղ իր դրկիցին հետ բաժնէ, երկու հագուստ ունեցողը մէկով ալ իր դրացիին մերկութիւնը ծածկէ: Թշուառութիւնը մեծ է, մեր կարողութենէն շատ վե՛ր, բայց ի՜նչ ընենք. Աստուծմէ զատ օգնական չ’ունինք, զիրար պահենք պահպանենք, մինչև Աստուծոյ այցելութիւնը հասնի... Ա՛լ չը կրցաւ շարունակել, հեկեկանքը խեղդեց իր ծերուկ ձայնը: Դիմացէն`կանանց վերնատունէն` արդէն փրթած էր լացը, և վայրկենապէս բոլոր սրտերը կը փղձկէին, ու ամբողջ եկեղեցին կ’ուլար մեռելի տան մը պէս: Խեղճե՜րը, անլաց ու անմռունչ թաղեր էին իրենց ինկած սիրելիները, բայց հիմա`անհուն վիշտերնին քովքովի բերած` արդարութեան Աստծուն սեղանին առջև՛ աչքերնուն մէջ ժահրացած արցունքը կը պոռթկար... Պատարագի աւարտումէն ետքը պնակներու բովանդակութիւնը հաշուեցինք: Պղինձ, արծաթ, ոսկի դրամներ, կանացի հասարակ զարդեղէններէն սկսած մինչև թանկագին գոհարեղէններ` իրարու վրայ դիզուած սրտաշարժ կոյտ մը կը կազմէին: Ամբողջ արդիւնքը 1500 ոսկի գնահատուեցաւ:

The trials and tribulations of fundraising and fundraisers are at the core of this short story entitled “Hokoos hamar” (For my soul) by Arantsar (pen name of Missak Kouyumjian, 1877-1913), a talented satirist and short story writer, now sadly forgotten.

We publish here an excerpt from the story to give a taste of Arantsar’s style.

LOCKDOWN LAVASH

By EdVolume Stambollouian Zanazan 1, Issue 2

During Covid, Ed Stambollouian, a theatre director, developed his Armenian cooking skills.

He led a delicious masterclass on making dolma (aka sarma) for AI last year with recipe on our website: https://www.armenianinstitute.org.uk/food/dolmaed Photos by Ed Stambollouian from his blog @ London Cooking Aged 18, I spent three weeks volunteering in a summer camp just outside Spitak, in the countryside, north of Yerevan. It was my first time in Armenia and I was met with warmth and overflowing hospitality wherever I went. I couldn’t cross the street without being dragged into a home for a shot of pungent thick, tar-like black coffee and some honey-sweet, fresh watermelon. The people I met had very little, but wanted to give me everything. And, when I told them my name, the reaction was always the same.

Shock, disbelief, eyes lit up, beaming smiles, and then dragged off to be shown to anyone nearby “He’s an Armenian! Stambollouian! An Armenian!”. And then the inevitable offer… “let me feed you!”.

That trip sparked a lifetime obsession with Armenian food. I’ve bargained with relatives for old family recipes, scoured the internet for hints and tips, and found a few good cookbooks along the way. Most influential was the discovery of Lavash, a beautiful cookbook and ode to Armenia, written in 2019, from which I sourced most of my recipes. I recently set up an Instagram cooking account (@LondonCooking) and I’ve used the platform to document my journey through Armenian cuisine.

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In 2014, UNESCO added lavash, a paper-thin flatbread, to their list of protected intangible cultural heritage traditions as an expression of Armenian culture. This seemed like the best place to start. Traditionally baked in an underground clay oven called a tonir, the recipe in the Lavash cookbook uses an upturned wok on a gas flame to quickly crisp the bread. It’s flakey and delicious served with fresh tomatoes and white cheese.

From baking my own lavash the natural next step was lahmajun. Here the lavash base is paired with a spiced, tomatoey lamb mince for a thin, crispy Armenian pizza. And then on to jingalov hats, a traditional Artsakh dish, where the dough encases up to 20 different chopped herbs and greens for a fresh burst of flavour.

I made spas, the thick yoghurt and pearl barley soup, so rich that two spoonfuls could fill you up.

I made vegetarian dishes like eech, and tabbouleh, khorovats salads and imam bayildi. Spinach-and cheese-stuffed pastry boreks and sweet baklava.

Long strings of sharots, walnuts coated in spiced grape syrup.

Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 My small apartment was filled with the pungent pong of basturma, a heavily spiced, air-dried, cured beef.

This was a lengthy ordeal that had me salt-curing meat, drying it for two weeks, then coating it in a fenugreek and garlic spice paste. The result was a flavour packed cured meat with a texture a little like beef jerky. Delicious eaten layered up in a lavash sandwich or with scrambled eggs.

Then they’re steamed with water, oil and lemon juice. It’s a recipe I’ve tweaked and finessed over the years and am now proud to title ‘The Stambo Dolma’. It is, in a very small way, my contribution to Armenian culture. A family recipe that keeps a tradition alive. Because that seems to be what Armenian cooking is truly about. Keeping a culture alive.

I joined an AI masterclass led by Nouritza Matossian, who taught us her grandmother’s manti recipe.

Armenian manti are unique for their shape: small canoe-like pasta parcels stuffed with spiced meat, arranged in beautiful concentric patterns in circular trays. They’re baked in the oven for a slight crunch and then softened with hot stock, tomato passata and garlic yoghurt. The preparation of the manti is laborious and fiddly, but it’s a labour of love. It’s said that the smaller you make each manti, the more you love the person you’re cooking for.

And they’re tasty. Really tasty. But if you want the recipe, you’ll have to marry into the family…

On the penultimate night of my Armenian trip, all those years ago, I was invited into a local home to try dolma. These were cabbage leaf dolma, served hot, stuffed with minced meat and rice. When we’d finished eating, the host, a local entrepreneur and man-about-town, Edik, scooped up a glass of the oily, tomatoey juice from the bottom of the dolma dish and encouraged me to drink it. He said, with a suggestive nod, that “dolma juice makes men strong”.

Ever since that night I’ve been obsessed with dolma.

Not for their men’s health properties I should add.

But because they are, for me, the dish I associate most strongly with Armenia. Armenian food is intrinsically linked to the process and ritual of preparing it, and dolma preparation is a ritual!

We don’t have a family recipe so I’ve developed my own with vine leaves (sarma). It’s a tomatoey fried rice, with pine nuts, dried currants, herbs and spices. Each dolma is wrapped by hand like a mini burrito and arranged carefully in a pot.

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

OLIVER BALDWIN’S SIX PRISONS AND TWO REVOLUTIONS

By Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian, Adventures in Trans-Caucasus and Anatolia, 1920-1921 (Hodder & Stoughton, 1925) is an eyewitness account of a critical juncture of events in Armenia.

In September 1920 the outlook for the young country was dark. Armenia was isolated and deserted by its supposed allies. The Kemalist offensive in the west began in late September with the Bolsheviks in Soviet Azerbaijan in the east poised to make as much capital as possible out of the Turkish attack on Armenia.

The Armenian government began a dialogue with Bolshevik Russia but Moscow appointed Boris Vasilyevich Legran as their negotiator. Khatisian thought Legran was only playing at negotiations, his main objective being to make a weakened Armenia ripe for Sovietisation.

Born in 1899, Baldwin was the elder son of future Conservative prime minister Stanley Baldwin.

Baldwin also had a famous cousin, Rudyard Kipling, whose controversial racial attitudes Baldwin seems to have shared in his younger years. Outbursts of anti-Semitism and racism taint the memoir, though in later years, Baldwin wrote antifascist articles in the British press, including his influential piece “No Fascism for British Youth”.

Kars fell on 30 October. Barely a fortnight later, the Turkish army occupied Alexandrapol (now Gyumri), forcing the Armenians to accept armistice terms.

Meanwhile, Baldwin was arranging the defence of Yerevan with only 20 kilometres separating Turkish lines and the capital.

Baldwin fought briefly and bravely in France during World War I and afterwards worked as a journalist and travel writer, in North Africa. A chance meeting in August 1920 in Egypt with Alexander Khatisian, a former prime minister of Armenia, led to Baldwin’s appointment as an infantry instructor in the newlyindependent republic. He agreed to go to Armenia for 6 months without payment but given food and quarters.

By the morning of 2 December 1920 the Armenian government had resigned and placed everything in the hands of General Dro, the war minister of the outgoing regime. A Soviet had been proclaimed (see image on this page). In Baldwin’s words: “People were amazed, incredulous, but for the most part apathetic. Anyhow, they thought, it would be better to have the Russians back and to lose their independence than to be massacred by the Turks”.

These words, uttered some 100 years ago, have contemporary echoes following the second Artsakh war of 2020.

Baldwin was given the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel.

His first impression was that the army raised to resist the Turkish Kemalist attack was a failure, not from lack of courage but force of circumstance and short space of time for training and instilling discipline and military knowledge into the troops.

Baldwin’s words are corroborated by the writer Leon Surmelian, who was then in Armenia , writing in his memoir I Ask You, Ladies and Gentlemen: “What disturbed me was the attitude of the natives towards this sudden change in regime: they were too glad about it.”

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 Baldwin is scathing about what he thought was General Dro’s betrayal of the Armenian people.

Baldwin says that at the instigation of Legran, Dro issued an order turning what remained of the Armenian army into a Soviet force, forbidding them carrying the national flag, playing the national anthem and wearing national badges of military ranks.

The Red Army entered Yerevan on 5 December.

Shopkeepers hastily made flags of remnants of red cloth and hung them outside their doors. In the afternoon came the Russian cavalry. Not a murmur from the crowd. Horses treading softly in the snow.

Soldiers with fingers on their rifle triggers, all eyes; expecting opposition. But not a shot was fired and in perfect order and silence they moved and halted outside the Parliament building.

of world leaders but, such dreams were ultimately dashed by the Turkish and Bolshevik offensives of 1920.

Throughout the book, Baldwin is fiercely critical of the role of great powers, especially Britain, which assumed special responsibilities at the end of the World War I but did not implement them. Baldwin was not a detached observer and shares the hopes and disappointments of ordinary Armenians, especially the soldiers under his care. His anger and disappointment at the outcome of the battle and socalled negotiations is palpable and had an influence on his later life.

Note: British historian Christopher Walker, whose archives are held by the Armenian Institute, wrote a biography of Baldwin.

Four days later Baldwin was arrested for speaking critically of the new regime but released on parole a few weeks later. He was shocked to see creeping starvation in Yerevan and gives a graphic account of scenes of starving men, women and children in the streets whimpering and begging for food.

A rebellion against the excesses of the new regime started in February 1921 culminating in members of the Dashnaktsutyun party re-establishing themselves in power. Baldwin took part in storming the prison gates and freeing political prisoners but also in discovering nearly 100 mutilated bodies of prominent military personnel of independent Armenia. The short-lived revolt was put down by the returning Red Army barely two months later.

Baldwin decided to leave the country, despite qualms about deserting the revolt. He received an Armenian passport from Simon Vratzian, last prime minister of independent Armenia and leader of the February insurrection and with a visa for Turkey made his way to Kars, was arrested by the Kemalist authorities and served time in various Turkish prisons. Eventually released, he caught a boat for Constantinople and from there the Orient Express to Paris.

Baldwin in his Armenian army officer’s uniform with the Armenian letter ‘H’ (for Hayastan=Armenia) prominently displayed on his epaulette.

This eyewitness account by a non-Armenian describes a critical juncture in Armenia’s history.

The fledging republic’s hopes of restitution were encouraged by the sympathetic but false statements

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TREASURED OBJECTS Edited by Susan Pattie

This beautiful nightdress accompanied the family as they searched for safety, from Smyrna to Greece, Egypt, Syria, Jerusalem and finally London. Created by the women of the family as part of an ojit (dowry), it combines cut-work, lace, embroidery and crochet. From the family of Denis Finning.

Objects we think of as “inanimate” can often stimulate a rush of memories, feelings, and connections. This in turn brings other worlds into focus, places we have been or hoped to go, people whom we have loved, histories shared with that object since its original creation.

With this issue, we begin a new series, learning about the worlds of Armenians through material culture. The stories below are from AI’s original Brunei Gallery exhibition and accompanying book: Treasured Objects: Armenian Life in the Ottoman Empire 100 Years Ago (available through the AI bookstore). Please contact us if you have an object (any age) and its story that you would like to share in Zanazan.

Nightdress from Smyrna From childhood I used to call my granny Mairig, which in Armenian means “mummy”, because that’s what my mother called her. Takouhi, or Mairig, had two children: my mother, Irma (b.

1903), and two years later, a son. Tragically, my grandfather, Meguerditch, caught pneumonia and died in 1905, leaving Mairig a widow at 24 with two small children and a business to run. (They) continued to live in my great-grandfather’s rather

grand family house overlooking the Gulf of Smyrna in Cordelio. This quarter of Smyrna had been built after the construction of the massive stone quay, called the Cordon, built 50 yards into the sea in the 1870s. It became the centre of life in Smyrna, by day busy with men unloading cargos and by night, with its cosmopolitan restaurants and cafes. My mother, Irma, (…) said that when she was little, she would run to the end of the garden to their private little strip of beach with a book and a large piece of chocolate and a hunk of bread.

(Later), I often asked Mairig why they did not move from Turkey with the rest of the family, particularly after the pogroms in the 1890s and the Genocide of 1915. She said massacres of Armenians had always taken place in eastern Anatolia, whilst life in Smyrna had seemed relatively secure. Smyrna was rich and cosmopolitan, an international port, with historical links and proximity to Greece and a prosperous Greek population more than double that of Athens.

It was impossible to imagine that Armenians, as a Christian people in Smyrna, were at risk, due to the number of foreign consulates there. Armenians were confident that the Allied fleet in the bay would protect them. (Eds note: in 1922 Smyrna was burned and its Christian residents massacred).

Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 Krikor Tchilineguirian: Translator

Writer and

Translations of European (mostly French) romantic novels were in high demand amongst Ottoman Armenians. Mekhitarist publishing in Venice and Vienna could not satisfy this demand, due to religious prudery, so many translations were published in Constantinople and Smyrna. Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables was published in 1885 as Teshvarner in Constantinople, prominently displaying the autographed authorisation of the author, Victor Hugo, addressed to the translator Krikor Tchilineguirian.

(Our) family also had a large country house in Göztepe, a village outside Smryna. In summer, the family used to decamp as a body to the country for three or four months. Krikor Tchilineguirian, the prominent lawyer, writer and brother of our great grandmother Balaban, also escaped his busy legal practice in Smyrna, to accompany the family to the house where he had his library. Greatly respected, (…) he acted for several important Turks and Turkish businesses but was also was much loved for acting (gratis) for poor Turkish families. In the country he pursued his other love, literature, particularly French literature and philosophy. In Turkey French was the second language, taught in schools and through much of the 19th century, the main diplomatic language in much of the Middle East. Krikor was a great fan of Victor Hugo, a contemporary writer, read not only as a great novelist but also as an important social reformer. He translated Hugo’s Les Misérables into Armenian, dedicating it to the great man.

Note: After the Genocide, Krikor Tchilineguirian was part of the defence in the trial of Soghomon Tehlirian who had assassinated Talaat Pasha in Berlin, March 1921. His trial drew much international attention and he was acquitted.

Krikor Tchilineguirian, writer, lawyer and translator, and his niece. Texts and photos from Denis Finning (great nephew of K. Tchilineguirian)

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

2020 was difficult but, as seen below, AI moved quickly to make the most of what it offers. We were fortunate to have support from the National Lottery Heritage Fund and Arts Council England, enabling an expansion of staff and activities. We reached people around the world from Japan to California, from Argentina to Iceland. During lockdown we offered workshops for people wishing to learn new skills and improve old ones. The explosion in Beirut and war in Artsakh brought a new, tragic focus to our events but we ended the year sharing food together, if only on screens.

We hope to move to blended events in 2021 and look forward to welcoming you.

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

OUR EVENTS & ACTIVITIES The first 6 months of 2021 felt like a continuation and taking stock of the enormous upheavals of 2020 and its aftermath. We continued to meet online, and, of course, the silver lining of these isolating times has been how we’ve made new friends and relationships across both the UK and the world. Panels, talks and workshops continue to be our main formats, but we also experimented with more playful settings like our virtual masked ball celebrating Paregentan, as well as our always popular kids club, most recently storytelling sessions on the Armenian epic the Daredevils of Sasun. In September we held our first in-person event for more than a year and a half, and the first ever at our new premises in Saffron Hill, blended with online participation through Zoom. As the post-pandemic world steadily emerges, we’re committed to maintaining our new global community, and making sure that our events are as accessible and welcoming whether you’re joining in person or online.

Written by Nicholas S.M. Matheou, Programme Manager.

The Armenian Institute hosts various personal archives that have been donated by loved ones. The Personal Archives of the diaspora provide a space where memory is kept alive, producing an emotional engagement in the present that acts as a method of resistance to cultural destruction. The Armenian Institute welcomes everyone to their archives. They provide a window onto the past for all visitors who wish to explore the dynamic relationship between Armenian community, history and culture. They s how the past through the lenses of those who chose to donate their life-long treasures.

Written by Sahika Erkonan, Archivist.

A powerful tool against the cultural erasure we are unfortunately now witnessing on a daily basis, Zanazan Sounds plays a pivotal role in the cementing of the local and global Armenian presence of today. Through the use of our voices and independent autonomy in sharing our own experiences freely, we preserve a history that has been alive for centuries and continues to thrive in the present. Engaging in challenging conversations, witnessing the dedication of Armenians far and wide, investigating our heritage and recording our voices weaponise our existence through collective memory and communal support. Our voices remain our strongest form of resistance.

Written by Olivia Melkonian, Podcast Developer .

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Zanazan REVIEWS Volume 1, Issue 2 BOOK Aftershocks: Dispatches from the Frontlines of Identity by Nadia Owusu, Hodder & Stoughton, 2021. Review by Tatevik Ayvazyan.

Owusu and her younger sister. The tremors of these earthquakes accompany Owusu all her life, whether visiting the ancestral lands of her family in Ghana or worrying about her brother – a young black man – in the US.

Above shows Nadia with her father and mother.

Photos from Nadia Owusu’s personal archive.

The name of Nadia Owusu appeared in all the Armenian newsfeeds suddenly, with the publication of her book – Aftershocks. The blurbs and bios started with the dazzling geography of her identity: Ghanaian-American-Armenian, who lived in Italy, Ethiopia, Ghana, Tanzania and went to school in the UK. When we acquired the book for the Armenian Institute’s library I picked it to leaf through quickly, and couldn’t put it down: it took me on such an unusual, honest and courageous journey, one rarely seen in memoirs. The book is an emotional and intellectual rollercoaster - a candid and touching story of her life, combined with a serious examination of her own identity and belonging.

Right after its publication, Aftershocks was included in many prestigious ‘best book’ lists, including The Oprah Magazine, Vogue, Time, Vulture, and the BBC - it was even a New York Times Book Review Editor’s Choice.

When I picture an earthquake, I picture an earthquake. And, I picture my mother’s back and my father’s tumor and planes crashing into towers.

When I picture an earthquake, I picture orphans in Armenia and child soldiers. I picture myself, safe, behind guarded walls. I picture an absence. I hear thunder and silence. An earthquake is trauma and vulnerability: The earth’s, mine, yours”.

Owusu’s writing is exquisite, navigating through the timelines and countries, but keeping the reader’s attention with her lyrical storytelling, and leading through a fairytale-like journey of a young girl, searching for a place, for identity, for peace of mind.

And while it’s a book written with raw truthfulness about pain, depression, heartache and loss, it is mostly a book about strength, grace and love.

What touched me immensely was how Owusu, first as a child and then as a young woman, navigated the endless changes and shifts that defined her life with a heartbreaking but also brave fragility. The book starts with earthquakes – an actual, real one in Armenia, which I myself witnessed in 1988, and an emotional one in the little girl’s heart when her estranged mother unexpectedly turns up to see

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Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2 New Social Movements and the Armenian Question in Turkey. Civil Society vs. the State by Özlem Belçim Galip. Palgrave Macmillan, 2020.

Review by Nicholas S.M. Matheou.

In this important new study Dr. Özlem Belçim Galip addresses the socalled “Armenian Question” and its place in the struggle between civil society and the state in contemporary Turkey. The introduction guides the reader through the central themes and concepts, and the following chapters traverse the history of Armenians from the late Ottoman Genocide to 2002, when the Justice & Development Party (AKP) took power, and the eventual disappointments of Erdogan’s “New Turkey”.

The long fourth chapter is the study’s unique strength: an interview-led account of the “new social movements”—a term which refers both generally to the post-Marxist social movements which emerged after 1968, and specifically to these in contemporary Turkey. Key moments are the assassination of Hrant Dink and the massive civil society mobilisation in its wake, the Gezi Park uprising, and the emergence of self-identifying Muslim and Alevi Armenians in a relative opening of society. Most poignantly, many of the interviewees are now in exile or imprisoned.

Concluding remarks explore the ramifications, asserting the centrality of the Armenian Question for any meaningful transformation of Turkish civil society, and so the Turkish state’s democratisation. Overall, utilising both a wide-ranging literature and firsthand interviews, the result is a landmark book on the latest iteration of the Turkish Republic’s foundational question.

Zaven Biberyan, “Meteliksiz Aşıklar” aka “Angudi Siraharner” Aras Publishing House. By Sahika Erkonan.

Zaven Biberyan has recently started to gain a reputation as one of modern Armenian literature’s best novelists.

In addition to his novelistic talent, Biberyan was also a narrator and chronicler of Armenians’ tragic past, and he lived through difficult times himself, as an Armenian and a left-wing journalist.

Meteliksiz Aşıklar doesn’t have much of a plot beyond the complications surrounding 19-year-old Armenian Sur’s love for Norma, but its main purpose is drawing a picture of the 1950s in Turkey.

Sur’s struggle with adulthood also acts as a description of life as a young Armenian in İstanbul, criticising all of society’s moral values: “It was a wonderful thing to lie so carefree without looking around every minute with beating heart, without incident, without anxious expectation of constant disaster. Not being nervous. Being comfortable, having peace of mind ... Not feeling guilty, not being anxious because of a non-criminal act ... There are countries in the world where no one looks at people who hug each other, no one accosts them because they kiss, and no one attacks them when they are alone.”

We still do not know, Sur, what country might give you this, but Biberyan beautifully imagines your moment with Norma on the island. I wish that Sur and Norma’s dream comes true for everyone who looks at the blue sky … without fear but with love and friendship…

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LANGUAGE COURSES

By Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian

Above : Stephen Masters shows us his homework,writing out a poem by Toumanian.

Below: Screenshots from our language classes led by Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian, Sona Kalenderian, Sarin AkbaŞ and Haig Utidjian.

An important element of AI’s mission is to support the Armenian language in a diaspora setting. The varied adult language classes that AI offers have been a major part of our activities. This past year we had 62 students from total beginners to native speakers in group classes and a further 13 who opted for one-to-one tuition. Thanks to Zoom our student body, previously based mainly in London, became global with learners joining from the Far East, the Middle East, North America as well as East and West Europe. West and East Armenian classes are taught at beginners, intermediate and advanced levels, as demand requires. Grabar (ancient Armenian) is also offered and some of our West Armenian classes are taught through social media.

See the AI website for details on joining.

BECOME A PART OF THE AI FAMILY Zanazan Volume 1, Issue 2

The Armenian Institute has turned 20!

CELEBRATING 20 YEARS OF

Over the last two decades we’ve been proud to become London’s and the UK’s primary hub for Armenian culture and the arts. From humble beginnings as a team of dedicated volunteers, we’ve matured into a leading Diaspora organisation with global recognition, run by talented staff members assisted by dedicated trustees and advisors. This growth has only been possible with the support of our friends, benefactors and communities, our AI family. Now we’re asking for your support once more, so that we can ensure AI’s existence for the next 20 years.

Your donation, however big or small, will ensure that we can continue in our mission to make Armenian history and culture a living experience for people of all ages and backgrounds; to connect with our neighbours historic and present; to host sometimes difficult but always important conversations; and to provide a platform for underrepresented and marginalised experiences in Armenian and related communities. All funds raised will go directly towards supporting the wide programme of innovative, engaging, educational, and timely events which we pride ourselves on, and keeping our library and archives accessible to the entire community.

To donate to our 20th anniversary fundraiser visit: https://www.gofundme.com/20yearsatai To become a Friend, Patron or Benefactor of the Armenian Institute, please visit this url: https://www.armenianinstitute.org.uk/support-us Our levels of AI Friendship are: Friend (single) £25; Concessions £15; Family £40; Patron £100+; Benefactor £1000+ Any questions? Please contact us: info@armenianinstitute.org.uk

A THANK YOU TO BARDEZ/PARTEZ When I joined AI’s committee around seven years ago, one of the first projects I was asked to work on was the annual newsletter Bardez/Partez, so named due to our then address at Iverna Gardens. This was the first time I had a chance to edit a magazine, which I thoroughly enjoyed. During my five years as editor, working closely with Belinda Keheyan and Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian, we covered a range of topics relating to AI and Armenia / being Armenian, with articles by Institute members and friends. One of my favourite pieces was Belinda’s article on Armenian animals, with gorgeous pictures of the Van Cat and the Gampr. We included news from UK and international press but also interviews with community members to bring their stories to the fore, such as when I spoke with the London Armenian Youth Football Team when they won their league, or a former AI language student working in Armenia.

Bardez also reviewed all AI events and encouraged our friends and benefactors to support AI. I stepped down as editor when we moved to our new home, where the newsletter would get a make-over. It certainly has with Zanazan, and I wish the writers the best of luck with their new publication. Previous issues of Bardez/Partez can be read at https://www.armenianinstitute.org.uk/periodicals Arda Eghiayan, Bardez/Partez Editor 2015-2020

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The border of Taghavard, a split village. Photo by Lika Zakarian.

The Armenian Institute is dedicated to making Armenian culture and history a living experience through innovative programmes, educational resources, workshops, academic events, exhibits and performances. We aim to make the rich Armenian heritage relevant to present diaspora life and to build bridges with other peoples within Britain and beyond.