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The Armenian Weekly On-line; Volume 73, No. 20, May 19, 2007
News:
1. Armenians Vote for a New National Assembly
Over 1 Million Voters Cast Their Ballots
By Christian Garbis
2. `Armenia’s Nightingale’ Dies
Interviews:
3. In Gag We Trust?
An Interview with FBI Whistleblower Sibel Edmonds (Part II)
By Khatchig Mouradian
Commentary:
4. The Nobility of Henry Morgenthau
By Kay Mouradian
5. Irritants V
By Garen Yegparian
Arts and Literature:
6. Ninth Annual Alternative Art Festival Opens in Yerevan
By Zaruhi Shushanian
7. Mysticism with Elegance
Khachatryan plays with Boston Symphony Orchestra
By Zareh Gregorian
8. Vardavar
By Marianna Pogosyan
9. love@firstsight.com
By Tatul Sonentz
10. Nuptialhouse
By Varand
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
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1. Armenians Vote for a New National Assembly
Over 1 Million Voters Cast Their Ballots
By Christian Garbis
YEREVAN (A.W.) – On May 12, hundreds of thousands of citizens throughout the
Republic of Armenia elected a new National Assembly. Nearly 60 percent of
just over 2.3 million registered voters participated in the elections, the
practices of which were generally commended internationally.
The final preliminary results released on May 13 revealed that the
Republican Party of Armenia won an overwhelming majority of the available
131 seats with 457,032 counted ballots (or 32.8 percent) in their favor,
followed by Prosperous Armenia with 204,443 votes (or 14.7 percent). The
ARF-Dashnaktsutiun took third place with 177,192 votes (or 12.7 percent).
According to the Central Election Commission of Armenia, the final tally of
voters who participated in the elections nationwide was 1,389,521. At each
polling station, participating political parties were allowed to have one
proxy to observe the election process. The elections monitoring
non-governmental organization It’s Your Choice also sent its observers to
polling stations.
The majority of seats was expected to be hotly contested between two leading
political parties, namely Prime Minister Serge Sargsyan’s Republican Party
and Prosperous Armenia, a relatively new party formed at the beginning of
2006 led by multimillionaire Gagik Tsarukian. The latter claims to have
400,000 members, the largest political organization in the country, and
President Robert Kocharian is believed to have close ties to the party.
Of the several opposition parties on the proportional system ballot, only
the top two contenders, Orinats Yerkir and Heritage, were able to win seats
in the National Assembly. Parties running in the proportional system were
expected to secure a minimum of 5 percent of the total tallied votes in
order to secure seats. Former Foreign Minister Raffi Hovanissian’s Heritage
party garnered 80,890 votes, while Artur Baghdasarian’s Orinats Yerkir
earned the support of 95,256 voters.
Other relatively minor opposition parties like the United Liberal National
Party (MIAK), a fairly new organization comprising Western-trained young
professionals, earned less than 2,000 supporters despite a significantly
proactive media campaign. Both former Prime Minister Aram Sargsyan’s
Republic Party and Stepan Demirchian’s People’s Party of Armenia, once a
fairly popular opposition force, also did poorly.
The Republic party is considered to be the most radical in the opposition
bloc, having already called for a demonstration rally on May 13 well in
advance of the elections in a promise to protest the outcome. Yet less than
a few thousand supporters filled Yerevan’s Liberty Square for the rally,
where the Republic party alongside Impeachment, the People’s Party of
Armenia, and New Times parties vowed to seek justice as well as victory for
an election they claim was unfair.
These extreme opposition parties have been fiercely opposed to President
Kocharian and have called for his ouster, claiming that his government has
been marred by corruption. But they were unable during their campaign to put
forward concrete agendas discussing what steps forward would be taken once
the ultimate goal of deposing the country’s leadership was reached.
Three members of the Central Election Commission, all of whom represent
opposition parties, refused to sign the final preliminary results protocol,
citing numerous voting irregularities.
As was expected, reports of irregularities and vote rigging, occurring
primarily outside of the capital, were received throughout the day. The
Civil Society Institute in particular was notified of situations in various
polling stations by telephone and was fairly quick to dispatch
representatives throughout Yerevan to investigate reported irregularities.
Prosperous Armenia and Orinats Yerkir had set up hotlines for citizens to
call and file complaints.
However, despite the fact that violations were recorded on a regular basis,
in some instances it could not be proven that a specific reported violation
was actually made. In such cases, hoax calling could not have been ruled
out.
Speculation of bribe distributions was evident on election day, especially
in Armenia’s regional areas. The media reported bribe distribution cases by
parties in the ruling coalition and outside. One report showed that the
Republicans and Prosperous Armenia were distributing voting bribes of 15,000
dram (or $42) and 25,000 dram (or $70), respectively, just as voters were
readying to go to the polling stations. Thousands of citizens were also
purportedly bussed in to the voting precincts in efforts sponsored by the
contending political parties. (Note: To read Vahan Hovhannisyan’s response
to a question on whether the ARF plans to punish violators, see `ARF
Increases Its Vote in Parliamentary Elections’ on page 1.)
There were also claims of carousel voting in such places as the Noragavit
sub-district of Shengavit in Yerevan, whereby a single stolen ballot is
marked with a vote for a specific political party and given to a voter along
with a bribe to thereby be cast. The fresh ballot that the voter receives
after registering with the local election commission is taken out of the
polling station, then given to the bribe distributor to start the process
over again. Such carousel voting practices were known to have existed as
early as 1998 for the presidential elections.
The report from the number 12/26 polling station in Noragavit was made by
appointed Heritage party observer and former state human rights defender
Larisa Alaverdian, who was there at the time the irregularity was found.
At the same polling station in Noragavit, a photojournalist was initially
refused the right to work there after presenting his credentials. It was
only after a call was made to the Central Election Commission that the
situation was resolved in the journalist’s favor. The voting line there was
generally disorderly with some people shouting at election officials on
occasion.
At a press conference held May 13 at the Armenia Marriott hotel, members of
the International Election Observation Mission representing Organization for
Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) applauded the conduct of the
elections as being largely in accordance with international practices, but
it stopped short of declaring them free and fair.
`These elections were a clear improvement and that is good for Armenian
democracy,’ the special coordinator of the short-term election observers and
Vice President of the OSCE Parliamentary Assembly (PA), Tone Tingsgaard,
said.
`Now more work is needed to further consolidate this young democracy,’ she
continued. `That will require joint effort and will by all political forces.
I hope we will see that happen in the years ahead.’
About 300 short-term observers were sent by the OSCE Office for Democratic
Institutions and Human Rights (OSCE/ODIHR) to monitor the elections
nationwide. A 10-page preliminary report was distributed at the end of the
press conference.
Despite the fact that the two frontrunner opposition parties were able to
secure seats in the National Assembly, both the Orinats Yerkir and Heritage
parties chose to reject the preliminary results.
`Threatening, mass distribution of bribes, illegal ballot-box stuffing, loud
shortcomings in the process of the vote-count and distortion of the true
results of the elections give grounds to cast doubt on the legality of the
elections,’ read a statement released by Orinats Yerkir on May 13.
President Kocharian praised the election results, stating that they were
`free, fair, and transparent, which is certified by the Central Election
Commission, law-enforcement bodies, as well as local and international
observers.’
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2. `Armenia’s Nightingale’ Dies
`Armenia’s Nightingale.’ That’s how Avedik Isahagian once described Armenian
opera singer Kohar Kasbarian, who passed away on May 16. She was 83.
Kasbarian was a national artist of the Soviet Union, a recipient of the
`Mesrob Mashdots’ medal, and a professor at Yerevan’s conservatory. Her
unique voice was recognizable at the first note and her performance skills
were renowned not only in Armenia but also abroad.
`She was the last Mohican of the vocal arts,’ saysArmenian artist Edward
Tatevosian. `For decades, she represented Armenian art on the most important
stages of the world. She was truly a gem, even in her last moments,’
Kasbarian had received her education in her birthplace – Cairo, Egypt – and
could sing in seven languages. She was the first Soviet female singer who
received the title of the Socialist Workers’ Hero. Her `Olympia,’ `Violete’
and `Jilta,’ as well as many of her other performances, have already become
classics and are helping educate a new generation of Armenian musicians.
A government committee was formed by the decision of the Armenian Prime
Minister to take care of the details of Kohar Kasbarian’s funeral services.
The requiem service for the famous singer took place on May 18. The funeral
services were held on May 19.
———————————————- —————————-
3. In Gag We Trust?
An Interview with FBI Whistleblower Sibel Edmonds (Part II)
By Khatchig Mouradian
Part I of this interview appeared in last week’s issue.
K.M. – Let us talk about you: your frustrations, your feelings. How do you
deal with all of this?
S.E. – I can’t say it’s been easy, the anger and disappointment over knowing
that my country, my government, has let me down, that the mainstream media
has let all of us down. With many whistleblowers, the pressure reaches a
point where they either have nervous breakdowns or they explode. And many of
them do explode or they get disgusted and go away. After one or two years of
fighting, they say the heck with it, I’m just going to leave.
If you explode, you have given them the perfect excuse to point at you and
say, look this person is crazy, she’s not legitimate. If you go and expose
some documents, they have an excuse to say you have breached security and
should be jailed – and again, they benefit. They get away with this because
nobody has been willing to come forward, and right now, it’s only me. If
there had been one or two other agents who had committed to that much
compromise and sacrifice and come forward, maybe we would have seen some
progress. But the fear factor is so great out there.
I’ve lived in this country for 18 years and am an American citizen. Maybe a
lot of people born here take their citizenship for granted, but for me it
was a conscious choice. At that point I was a student of this country’s
history and its laws, and I was mesmerized. As part of that oath you make a
commitment to stand up for this country’s constitution and rights and
people, whether the enemies threatening it are foreign or domestic. And I
did take it seriously and I do take it seriously, and I also look at the
alternative – the alternative being count your losses and go away; it’s just
going to get worse.
Again, many Americans think this is about one whistleblower who lost her
job, that this is one case, and they don’t see themselves affected by it.
With September 11, they saw themselves directly affected – ‘I can be next.’
Well, I’m trying to tell them that with the money laundering, the narcotics,
their own representatives going against their own interests, they’re all
being affected by the cover-ups.
It’s been five years, and I never thought it would continue for this long. I
went to the Judiciary Committee in March 2002, and I thought that was it. I
thought that all I had to do was give them the documents, give them the
facts, the names, and everything would be taken care of. It was not. When I
went to the Inspector General’s Office, I thought that was it. When I went
to the courts, I thought this was it, it was done. I never thought I would
be sitting here, five years later, saying that everything was shut down
successfully, and no accountability and no justice whatsoever had taken
place.
I set up this organization [] to encourage other
whistleblowers, those good agents out there who dealt with Turkish
counter-intelligence operations in the FBI. And that’s not the only agency.
There are other agencies in this nation, within our government, with good
conscientious people who should be saying enough is enough, it’s time to
stand up.
K.M. – What can be done? What can the ordinary citizen do?
S.E. – It boils down to the people standing up and demanding their rights, the
right actions. I don’t want to get my job back with the FBI. That’s not what
I’m after. I’m not asking to be compensated in any way for my suffering.
I can never go back to Turkey and visit my family. I have been blacklisted
because I have committed, as any good journalist in Turkey would
automatically commit: the act of treason. Under their laws, anyone who
criticizes Turkey, or shows it under some negative light or hurts certain
official thugs there, is treasonous and should be arrested and taken to
military tribunals. All you have to do is read the Human Rights Watch
reports and see what happens to good reporters in Turkey. If they’re lucky,
by the way, they will end up in a military tribunal, if not, they will end
up dead or disappear. If you look at the tens of thousands of people who
have disappeared in the past 10 years in Turkey for political reasons, the
number is astonishing for a country that is considered a democracy and a
great ally. You have tens of thousands of good activist students who have
just disappeared into thin air and nobody knows where they are. It happened
once upon a time in Argentina and Chile, but I don’t know how easy it is to
say that things like that happen in a great democracy and an ally country.
But I’m not asking to be compensated, I’m not asking to get my position
back. All I have been asking is for justice to take place, for the American
people to know what’s going on, and for those people who are working against
their interests to be held accountable.
Some respected, great Representatives, Democratic Congressmen, have
expressed interest in my case. The leader of that group was Congressman
Henry Waxman (D-Calif.), and I briefed his staff several times, by giving
them the same details I gave five years ago to the Judiciary Committee. They
obtained the classified version of the Inspector General’s report two years
ago and they were outraged. I have several letters from Congressman Waxman
saying he finds these gag orders stunning and that the Republicans were
preventing a hearing from taking place on my case. Well, in January, after
we went through the change [in Congress], Congressman Waxman is now Chairman
Waxman and there is no power within Congress that can prevent him from
holding this hearing. He has the jurisdiction, the authority to put the
hearing there, and I have already obtained the consent and names of
conscientious, good agents. One of them was the head of the Turkish
counter-intelligence operations who actually retired two years ago. They’re
all willing to come forward and testify on all the issues I have been gagged
on. And that gag doesn’t work in Congress during a hearing.
So in January, after the election results, especially since we have such a
great Chairman today, 30 organizations have put together this petition
addressed to Chairman Waxman saying you have been promising us for the past
five years. These are major organizations, and we call them transpartisan,
because there are organizations from the right, organizations from the left,
organizations that are whistleblower-related such as the Project on
Government Oversight (POGO), the Government Accountability Project (GAP),
the National Whistleblower Center, human rights organizations, the National
Coalition Against Censorship (NCAC), civil liberties-related organizations
such as the American Civil Liberties union (ACLU). We have 30 solid
organizations. According to the ACLU, there has been no case of an American
citizen who has had so many gag orders issued on her.
We also had 15,000 citizens sign the petition, and they delivered it to
Chairman Waxman’s office in March 2007, just over a month ago. And based on
the office’s own report, tens of thousands of people in the past 3-4 weeks
have called to say, well, when are you going to hold a hearing?
But we have received no response and we don’t know why. None of these
organizations know why because they have all the facts, they have all the
confirmation, they have the IG report, they have the executive branch’s own
report saying she’s credible and her allegations have been supported by
other witnesses and documents. We are not talking about allegations. We are
talking about facts, documented and witnessed facts.
And I still believe that the Americans who care about their rights can make
this happen. Maybe it hasn’t happened because one of the factors that is not
present there is the mainstream media. We know the mainstream media has such
influence over the Congress. Maybe Congress is not finding it worthy of
their attention despite all these severe consequences because the media
isn’t there.
The citizens can change this, the constituents of Chairman Henry Waxman in
California, in the LA area, can change that. They can say, you represent us,
you represent our interests, and you are the chairman of the Government
Reform Committee. So after not hearing back from Chairman Waxman through
this petition and 30 organizations, I’m trying to reach out to those
constituents in California, I’m trying to reach out to all citizens in this
country and say, forget about me, this is not about Sibel Edmonds. Let’s go
to the core issues: What was it that I reported that caused all these gag
orders and firings and threats? What was it? What I reported had nothing to
do with me. It had to do with the interests of the American public being
stomped upon. It had to do with elected officials abusing their authority to
obtain lucrative early retirement positions afterwards as representatives of
foreign interests. And this is very important. In order to obtain it
afterwards they had to serve those foreign interests while they were working
and had those positions. In every single one of them that’s how it happens.
You start serving the interests of outside influences before you obtain your
positions afterwards and say bye to your civil service career. And that is,
especially in some cases, criminal. That is not something that should be
tolerated by this country, and we need to set an example of those people.
We have the facts, we have the documents, we have the witnesses, and it’s
time to do it. So stand up and call Chairman Waxman’s office, keep calling
until you get an answer on when the hearing will take place. For each
citizen it may cost four minutes. But the benefit to this country, and the
number of issues that we are going to shed light on, is worth it. And if it
was not, they would not have gone this far to gag it. I have been fighting
very hard, but they have been fighting very hard, too.
This is unprecedented. If I am the most gagged woman in the history of this
country, and if they have gone as far as invoking the States Secrets
Privilege, the issue is important enough. So for anyone who may say, well,
how do I know this case is credible? I’ll tell you that there is a report,
there are statements from bipartisan senators, Senator Grassley, Senator
Leahy, Congressman Waxman. And these are all on the record establishing the
credibility of the case.
Call Chairman Waxman and write to him and do not stop until we have this
hearing in place, and we have the agents testifying. I’m going to emphasize
two things here: a) that they testify on oath, and b) that the hearings be
public. I have had some hearings, and they have been behind closed doors in
the Congress. I have briefed them. They already have this information. It’s
the American public’s turn to hear about this.
It’s possible that in light of the Chairman’s decision to hold a hearing,
the government comes in and says it has to be in close session and not in
public because these are classified issues. But they’re not. If that
happens, we won’t get anywhere because then it’s futile. I would not even be
willing to testify because I have already done so. Five years ago I gave
them testimony behind closed doors. So did other witnesses. It’s time to
have open, public hearings and have people under oath. I will testify under
oath, and the consequences of lying are severe.
So let’s make this happen, and let’s say that when all channels we rely
upon – be it the courts and the Congress and the executive branch and the
mainstream media – fail us, we still should move forward and not stop, and
reach out to the American public, and make it happen. I hope we can do it,
because not being able to do it sends a very bad, awful message to our
children and our grandchildren, to say that active citizenry is dead in this
country.
Contact Chairman Henry Waxman by calling (202) 225-3976 or writing to 2204
Rayburn House Office Building, Washington, DC 20515.
If you are in the LA area, call (818) 878-7400 or write to 8436 West Third
Street, Suite 600, Los Angeles, CA 90048.
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4. The Nobility of Henry Morgenthau
By Kay Mouradian
In my heart, I, along with many Armenians throughout the world, honor Henry
Morgenthau, Sr., the American Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire from
1913-1916. Morgenthau championed and alerted the world to the sufferings of
the Turkish Armenians in 1915. A charismatic and wealthy man with a degree
in law, he lived by the ethical principles he had planted as seeds during
his young teenage years.
At age 14, he took seriously his confirmation at temple and visited churches
of all denominations, making abstracts of sermons by famous pulpit orators
of his day, especially Congregationalists Henry Ward Beecher and Richard
Storrs. Emerson, at the time, was leading American thought and young Henry
Morgenthau also read the works of Horace Greeley and William Bryant. He was
learning how human great men really are.
In the Morgenthau home at the time was a border, a hunchbacked Quaker
doctor, who was softened instead of embittered by his affliction. He and
Henry had become fast friends. Young Henry listened to the noble doctor’s
long talks and loved the inspirational 1762 book by William Penn, No Cross
No Crown, which the doctor had given him. That book prompted young Henry to
compose 24 rules of actions tabulating virtues he wished to acquire and
vices he needed to avoid. He made a chart and every night he marked his
breaches of that day. Much like an athlete who practices hours to perfect
his skills, Morgenthau loved focusing and demanding his will in victory over
those vices. That’s how he built his moral muscles as a young man. He titled
his chart: `Tabulating virtues to be acquired and vices to be avoided.’
Do not use any profane words.
Do not eat much sweet food as it darkens the mind.
Always speak the truth.
Spend nothing unnecessarily, for if you save when young,
you can spend when old.
Never be idle as it will cause you to think of wrong things.
Talk little, but think much.
Study daily, or else your knowledge will not improve.
Keep your own secrets, for if you do not keep them, no one
will keep them for you.
Make few promises, but if you make any, fulfill them.
Never speak evil of anyone.
Work for your employer as though it was for yourself.
Deal fairly and honestly with your fellow clerks, but be not
too intimate.
Be not inquisitive.
Neither borrow nor lend if avoidable.
Trust none too much, but be not distrustful.
Be not vain, for vanity is the destruction of men.
Be grateful for the smallest favor.
Never leave for tomorrow what can be done today.
Drink no kind of intoxicating liquor nor smoke any weed.
Never play at any game of chance.
Conquer temptation though it be ever so powerful.
Keep yourself clean, as cleanliness is next to godliness.
Wonder not at the construction of man, but use your time in improving
yourself.
In deciding any doubts in the meaning of above maxims, let conscience
decide.
I’ve read this chart often throughout my research of this great man and when
I look at the quality of the virtues he charted, I’m still astonished that a
boy of 14 would take such deep interest in developing his moral muscles in
preference to playing football or searching out pretty girls in school.
Those moral muscles he developed and practiced as a teenager built within
him strength of an honest power that eventually led to the world’s
recognition of him as a wealthy entrepreneur, a diplomat extraordinaire and
a notable humanitarian.
I wonder if it is even possible in today’s celebrity driven society to
encourage our young Armenian boys and girls to follow Morgenthau’s conscious
preparation for living an honorable way of life and ask them to design
similar charts of their own. If they did and faithfully took note of their
daily breaches and tried to overcome them, could they, then, grow into the
likes of a Henry Morgenthau and become great men and women with hearts
filled with goodness for humanity?
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5. Irritants V
By Garen Yegparian
The list of things wreaking havoc with my nerves seems to be accumulating
more rapidly. Perhaps it’s a sign of age. It is certainly a sign that
another in this series of articles is due. And always remember, `Hell is
other people.’
The first of today’s, however, contradicts the above dictum. It’s
self-inflicted. It happens that after submitting articles, and usually well
after deadlines or seeing it in print, I remember a point I omitted. Not
that the article can’t stand without the missing notion, but it would have
been just a bit better with…
It happened again in last week’s `Heinous Formality,’ so I’ll correct that
one. I had wanted to note that people who most cling to formality and rigid
rules of social interaction seem to be those who are closest to our
agrarian, non-urban societies. I mean this temporally, generationally. They
appear to be afraid of being associated with some imagined thing they deem
beneath them – you know those `revolting peasants’ who have no manners or
couth. Or perhaps they fear being recognized for what they really are…
Then we have the mental pygmies who inhabit many offices that interact with
the public. In this case, I needed a ticket to a departmental graduation
where my sister-in-law was getting her Ph.D. It was one more than her
allotted quota. Since this happened to be at my alma mater, I contacted
Alumni Relations, requesting what turned out to be more difficult than
access to a U.S. president. Alumni Relations doesn’t handle these things, I
was informed, but I was referred to the department with a contact name. She
couldn’t do it and her supervisor was to call me. The latter did not. I was
running out of time because I had been very patient through this whole
process. I called the next day, and was admonished by this supervisor that
she was very busy. Hmmm, so that’s why she wastes even more of her and her
staff’s time by making me, and presumably others, call repeatedly. Anyway,
she wouldn’t grant me this passage to heaven, insisting that the graduate
herself had to make the request. Finally it was all done. But, why was the
grief necessary?
Of course, I shouldn’t forget the delay in traveling to the East Coast for
the graduation. I was catching a red-eye, 11:30 p.m.-ish. Can anyone explain
to me why at an airport like LAX, a major airline has to wait for a plane,
737, to arrive before it turns around and goes back? Why couldn’t we have
been put on some other plane. It’s not as though dozens of departures are
occurring at that time of night.
I was at a wedding some time ago and was chided by the groom, Asee shoorch
bar cheh (this is not a circle dance). You can imagine my surprise since
Arabic music was playing at that moment and most celebrants, probably
ignorant of our shoorch bar steps, were busy pseudo-belly dancing or
pretending to be airplanes.
Then we have word from the street that people are afraid to send kids to
demonstrations. Why? Because `they used to burn flags,’ and other such
concerns. How dare anyone take actions at a demonstration; gosh, whoever
heard of such absurdity? So, the moms come along. Suits me. The turnout ends
up being better.
`Let me repeat that number again.’ `I want to request for.’ Huh? The notion
of repeat includes `again’ as the notion of request includes the `for.’ I’m
sure you can extend this list by several. And, to be sure, this is not a
mistake made just by Armenians.
Let’s not forget, now that local election season is over, to mention all
those who have no business running for office but who choose to do so
anyway. I’ve discussed the local level losers and spoilers many times, but
the disease of ego that drives incompetents to run for office reaches right
up to presidential races. Can you imagine, the ethically challenged Rep.
Duncan Hunter running for that position? And just in case you harbored
doubts about how things work with him, his son is running for the
Congressional seat he’s vacating…
Mongo-maison-mania, a little known disease, afflicts the poor of taste,
nouveaux-riche, and many of our compatriots. It has only one symptom – the
desire to have a house that competes with Versailles, situated on a lot best
suited for a shack. Not only are these health and environmental
disasters – they suck up much more in resources to construct and maintain than
is necessary for decent human shelter and discourage kids and adults from
going outdoors to play and get exercise – but they usually are visual
nightmares and economic dinosaurs in the making. The latter point comes from
a piece in the paper I saw some time ago regarding this fad of ever larger
houses. The author compared them to the huge Victorian homes built a century
ago that now languish in the worst parts of towns and are often divided into
apartments. Combined with the increasing cost of maintaining space you
barely even use, you see why they make no sense.
Picture this. A woman is DWS, driving while smoking. OK, no problem, it’s
her right. She’s driving a Prius. Isn’t there a disconnect there?
Another quickie. A Turkish judge postponed Hrant Dink’s murder trial to June
14. Why? His death was not officially registered in Turkey yet. How dead do
you have to be? Somewhat analogous to genocide denial, wouldn’t you say?
Our favorite Governator Schwarzenegger is moving prisoners out of state. I’m
discussing convicted criminals. In California, not only is this possibly
illegal/unconstitutional because farming out state duties is prohibited, but
it is flat out inhumane. Think of the families and friends who want to
visit. Now, before you get your iron fist on, think of how you’d feel if
Hampig Sassounian was moved out of state. It’s also politically devious.
Most of the states and areas accepting such prisoner populations and
allowing prisons to be built are in the so-called `red states,’ the ones
leaning Republican. `So what?’ you blurt out. Well, those prisoners count
during the census. They also are not allowed to vote. So, when it’s time for
the decennial reapportionment of Congressional seats among the states, guess
which ones get more, and guess which way that skews the partisan balance in
D.C.
Aaah, the Museum of Tolerance, a paragon of rectitude and human rights.
Wrong. You all know what they haven’t done regarding the Armenian genocide.
You remember the AYF hunger strike and other efforts. You might even
remember their inviting denier Stanford Shaw to speak (on the eve of LA’s
1992 riots) and not canceling him until the last minute, with snide remarks
about `some people’ not realizing what they’d be missing. They’re even
reputed to be in Israel’s right wing Likud party’s camp – another reminder of
why right wing politics hurts Armenian interests. All this is nothing
compared to the temerity of the museum soliciting money from Armenians. I
get such mailers periodically. The shamelessness is mind-boggling.
Finally, I AM NOT SKEPTIK SINIKIAN. The guy/gal hardly writes any more, and
I still get accused of being that author. Sheesh, what’s everybody thinking,
that I have even less of a life than its actual pathetic state? Go ahead,
you write an article, see how `little’ time it takes. Then imagine doing two
each week.
——————————————– —————————-
6. Ninth Annual Alternative Art Festival Opens in Yerevan
By Zaruhi Shushanian
Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.
-Albert Einstein
YEREVAN (Special to the Armenian Weekly) – The 9th Annual Alternative Art
Festival called `My Eyes Seek the Reality’ opened on April 10 in the
Armenian Center for Contemporary Experimental Art (ACCEA) in Yerevan. The
official closing ceremony will be held on May 30.
Aiming to popularize avant-garde art in Armenia, for more than nine years
the ACCEA has been searching and discovering new frontiers in the arts, and
new participants in the Annual Alternative Art Festival. This year, 30 young
artists from Yerevan and outer Armenian regions presented their paintings,
installations and short movies. A series of rock concerts by Armenian rock
bands have also been organized within the framework of the 9th Annual
Alternative Art Festival.
Tsomak, one of the curators and organizers of the cultural event, says the
concept of the festival change every year. According to her, the aim of such
art festivals is to encourage the self-assessment and self-expression of
young artists. `For our participants, the festival is a sort of test which
helps them understand if they are really able to devote themselves to art,’
she says.
In her own interpretation, the name of the festival, `My Eyes Seek the
Reality,’ is synonymous with the word revolution. `The idea of the 9th
Annual Alternative Art Festival was to unite the active youth under the roof
of ACCEA, and to make them create something absolutely new and
revolutionary,’ she says.
A rock musician herself, Tsomak says she always tries to be a revolutionary
both in her music and life. `This time, I think, we succeeded in giving a
bold and rebellious spirit to the festival,’ she says.
According to Liza Shirinian, curator of the Alternative Art Festival, the
Armenian youth now faces many difficulties in `having to cope with injustice
set at the core of society.’ `Being a conservative nation, Armenians are
always skeptical about change and novelties. In the ACCEA, we try to
implement the novelties of Western culture in Armenia and, at the same time,
we give our young artists freedom of expression. Our society doesn’t always
approve of our ideas, but we’ll keep on encouraging any new and bold idea in
art,’ Liza says.
My own impression on the installations and paintings exhibited in the ACCEA
was that they all conveyed a sort of antagonistic attitude towards reality.
The irony with which the young artists treated the issues of modern life,
mixed with their protest against canons, created a blurred image of reality.
The series of commixes by Lusine Khandilian and Ama, for instance, reflected
the problems modern teenagers face in trying to become members of society.
The paintings and installations of Tamila Melkonian, Gagik Melkonian and
Hovnan Kartashian were both daring and antagonistic. One of the paintings
depicted a harassed and molested young girl. Another artist pictured people
as smiling dolls with broken arms and legs – dolls flying high above the
skyscrapers of a modern city.
`We don’t need sick psychologists. We want to cry. We want to kill the word
`rule’ and to struggle for our rights,’ goes the slogan of the 9th Annual
Alternative Art Festival.
—————————————- ————————————
7. Mysticism with Elegance
Khachatryan plays with Boston Symphony Orchestra
By Zareh Gregorian
When the lights dimmed on Thursday night, May 3, at Symphony Hall in Boston,
it was the last concert of the season for the Boston Symphony Orchestra
(BSO). There was absolute silence in the hall when the slim young figure of
Sergey Khachatryan appeared on stage holding his violin, followed by the
conductor, the affable Bernard Haitink, to perform the Shostakovich Violin
Concerto No. 1 in a minor, Opus 17-99.
The concerto was composed in 1947, yet stayed dormant during the years when
the compositions of prominent Soviet composers Prokofiev, Khachaturian and
Shostakovich were rejected and condemned by the Soviet authorities as `more
noise than music.’ The concerto was revised to its final form and premiered
in 1955 by the renowned violinist David Oistrakh, to whom the composer
dedicated the work. Oistrakh also premiered the concerto in the United
States that same year with the New York Philharmonic in New York City with
conductor Dimitri Mitropoulos.
The concerto is composed in an unconventional form of four parts, and begins
with a slow nocturne movement. The first movement is romantic, soft and
mystical to the ear, with the violin playing smoothly, accompanied by the
orchestra with a similar pianissimo pattern.
It haunts the imagination, and one loses the sense of time and space. The
sold-out audience of over 2,000 people felt electrified by the concentration
of the conductor as he kept the sound of the orchestra low, allowing the
violinist to produce a full tone on his 1708 Huggins Stradivarius. Just like
love at first sight, the first phrase of the concerto captured the audience
and continued on the finale, with the audience anxiously waiting to hear
what was coming next in this fascinatingly technical and emotionally
challenging work.
The second movement, Scherzo, is vibrant and needs a solid technique to
master the demanding composition. The third movement, Passacaglia, demands
the violinist to play with a loud tone against the lower strings and the
woodwinds accompanying the orchestra and vice versa. The cadenza is the
bridge between the third and fourth movements, and is a relatively long
movement with extremely challenging technical passages; it could almost be
considered a concerto in itself. The finale, Burlesque, is rhythmic and
energetic and ends the concerto in a traditional manner.
Khachatryan played with a brilliant tone and broad, full bows. There was no
need to wait for a standing ovation at the end of the performance, as the
audience jumped to their feet before the final note was played. Khachatryan
who is only 22 years old was born in Yerevan in 1985 to a musical family.
The chemistry between Khachatryan and Haitink was clear and pleasant to
watch.
The program notes provided information on Khachatryan’s future activities
including solo performance with the most prominent orchestras and conductors
throughout the world. Other activities include a recital with his sister,
pianist Lucine Khachatryan, who played a wonderful solo recital last year at
the Armenian Library and Museum of America in Watertown.
The second half of the evening’s performance was comprised solely of
Beethoven’s 3rd Symphony, the `Eroica.’ The piece was played by the BSO with
precision and elegance under the baton of their beloved conductor, Bernard
Haitink.
Leaving the concert hall, I recalled the words of music critic Bernard Shaw
on violinist Jascha Heifetz: `May I suggest you perform a couple of false
notes before you go to bed at night.’ Khachatryan’s playing was so perfect
that maybe he could use Shaw’s suggestion as well. What a wonderful concert
it was, and what a talent the young and promising gentleman has!
——————————————– ——————————–
8. Vardavar
By Marianna Pogosyan
Every third Sunday of July until I was 13 began with earsplitting shrieks
and a stream of foul language coming from outside my bedroom window of our
small Yerevan apartment. I loved waking up to those sounds of terror, as
they signaled the familiar commencement of my favorite holiday. Forget the
magic of Santa Claus, or Father Winter as I knew him as a child; forget
Easter smelling of lilac and fresh tarragon; forget the euphoric first day
of summer vacation. It was Vardavar – one of my most beloved days of the year.
Vardavar, as I learned from my mother every year, began as a pagan
tradition, when Goddess Astghik spread her love by showering the people and
the land of Armenia with rose water. It was later transformed into a water
festival in the light of Christian tradition as a means of purification from
sins. Frankly, my mother’s relentless efforts to educate me on the eve of
Vardavar seemed somewhat pointless, since I cared about Vardavar’s
historical roots as much as I cared about the political upheaval in my
country at the time, which was not much at all. I would wait restlessly for
the end of her stories, which I had memorized by heart, and begin preparing
my buckets for the next day.
For me, Vardavar was marvelous for other reasons. It was a day of judgment
that assured children of their friends and revealed the faces of their
enemies. It was also one of the few days of the year when I could come home
soaking, with all the dirt I could find in the city glued to my clothes, and
still be greeted with understanding smiles instead of the usual `We are soon
going to run out of soap due to your daily outings with your friends’
speeches.
While I considered the reprimands well-deserved given my revolting
appearance when I came home from the playground, I resented hearing them
since I knew how difficult soap was to come by. When I was growing up,
almost everything was in shortage in Armenia. Frankly, I only felt the
deficit in the staple products essential for my own well-being, which were
toys and fluorescent markers. But as the adults incessantly protested the
empty shelves in the stores, the children involuntarily picked up on their
worries. Need was everyone’s reliable neighbor.
There were, however, two things in Armenia that were in relentless
abundance: the scorching sun and the cold mountain water. They were also the
two main ingredients of Vardavar. That was another reason why I loved this
magical holiday. I felt freed from the guilt of using up limited resources
and burdening my family. The fun and the laughter were infinite. The
happiness was costless. The ubiquitous little stone fountains on every
street in Yerevan came alive with overflowing pure water as they indicated
the zealously anticipated arrival of spring. Everyone old and young drank
from the fountains on torrid Armenian afternoons and thanked the tasty water
for quenching their thirst and soothing their souls. Even as I took
everything for granted, I was grateful to God for giving us the sun and the
water in such abundance. Especially on Vardavar.
My excitement erupted into a heartfelt smile as I hastily put on the neatly
ironed Vardavar costume that my mother had prepared the night before. It
consisted of my favorite items of my fancy wardrobe – a worn out Adidas
t-shirt, which I had inherited from my cousin who bought it from some
Eastern European country; a pair of blue shorts, which my great-grandmother
had expertly transformed from my dad’s pants; and my oldest sneakers, which
were used beyond their capacity.
My enthusiasm must have been loud, since it awakened my baby brother and
consequently my mother, who slept in the same room with me. With the baby on
her hand, Mom made me my usual breakfast of strong black tea with two
teaspoons of sugar and lavash bread with butter and white Armenian cheese.
While she was dressing my brother and occasionally glancing at me
skeptically, I confided in her about the strategy for Vardavar, which I had
outlined in advance with my clique from our block.
Our block, or yard as we called it, was famed in the neighborhood thanks to
the charming captain `D’ of the swimming team, who lived on the second floor
of our apartment building. We had covertly replaced David’s real name with
his remarkably indecipherable nickname to protect his identity when we
discussed him amongst ourselves. We also took pride in being an
exceptionally close-knit group of friends, keeping our yard clean and always
being courteous with the adults.
Vardavar was the one day during the year when we cemented our reign as the
most commendable yard in the neighborhood by pouring water over everyone
from different yards. It was a time for a spectacularly soaking sociological
evaluation of the in-group out-group divide in the Armenian capital
performed by its children.
As I heard the familiar code of three and a half knocks on our door, I
shoveled down the remaining lavash, took a final sip of the comforting sweet
tea, and rushed to the door. It was Lilit, my best friend from the third
floor of our apartment building, who was going to be my key ally in the
battlefield. I grabbed the buckets and plastic bottles with holes, which
were usually assigned to me to water our plants, and dashed out of the door
as my brother squealed with excitement echoing my mother’s orders to be
careful.
We ran to the nearest stone fountain where we met up with the rest of our
friends, filled up our weapons with water, and went to battle to protect our
honor. We chased the children from neighboring yards, ruthlessly emptying
our buckets of water on them through their protests, and obediently waited
for them to return the favor. After a few hours of merciless water fights,
when everyone was successfully left without a dry patch on their bodies, we
announced the battle over. Apart from the sobering sensation of icy cold
walls of water hitting our bodies from every direction, the biggest thrill
came from seeing my friends getting even with the children who had managed
to water me.
I went home that afternoon feeling like a hero. My brother greeted me by
clapping and screaming from his chair when I entered the living room. He
usually clapped and screamed at random times, since he did not know how to
do much else at the time. Nonetheless, I pretended that he was saluting my
victorious homecoming. With my clean, dry, wool knee-high socks embracing my
freezing feet, I put on two layers of fresh t-shirts, a red flared skirt,
and went to my bedroom. As I dried my hair, I looked outside at the empty
wet roads. It was high noon. The sun was quickly erasing the traces of the
morning aftermath. A couple of tireless boys in our yard took turns watering
each other, as the occasional laughter from the neighboring yards traveled
with the warm summer zephyrs.
Just as I was enjoying the serenity of home and the comfort of dry clothes,
the sudden hysteric laughter from outside lured me back to the bedroom. I
stuck my head out of our window to witness an excessively dressed up girl in
her 20s carrying an elaborate multi-layered cake and approaching the two
bored boys. As soon as they spotted their victim, the boys readily diverged
their attention to her and burst into an evil laughter. The girl stopped in
front of the boys and stared at them in silence with pleading eyes and
frowning lips. This was going to be interesting, I thought, as I pulled up a
chair to make my view better for the spectacle.
`OK boys, please put the buckets down! I am begging you.’
More uncontrollable laughter.
`Do you know how long it took me to bake this cake? It is my friend’s
birthday. You probably know her. She lives on the fifth floor. Kara? She is
very nice, so you must let me go. Please!’
`You know that we can’t let you go, Aunty. It is Vardavar! You have to get
wet!’
>From our first floor window, the girl did not look like an `aunty’ to me.
But the boys must have had the better view. Or the worse judgment.
`Aunty? Wow, this day is getting better by the minute! KARA! KAARAA!’
As she yelled angrily for her friend, more curious neighbors stuck their
heads out of their windows. Among them was the mother of one of the boys
from the sixth floor.
`Come on, Martin, let the girl go. Can’t you see how dressed up she is? She
is going to a party. Don’t water her! Come home, it is lunch time.’
`Why do you say that, Ma? It is Vardavar! We can’t let anyone go!’ retorted
Martin with visible disappointment in his eyes.
`Come on boys, don’t you see how many eggs this poor girl has used for the
cake? You can’t waste that! There are no eggs in the city! Where did you get
the eggs from, by the way, pretty girl?’
It was Mrs. Julia, who was probably the most informed person in the country.
`Oh, I don’t even know,’ the girl replied hastily. `My mother bought them
the other day from somewhere. I heard they were gone in five minutes. KARA!’
The boys were now getting even more animated, since the number of
inquisitive heads sticking out of windows was steadily increasing. Assuring
that his mother had disappeared from the window, Martin approached the girl
and with a menacing smile on his face, gingerly poured half a bucket of
water on her high-heeled feet.
As the spectators started complaining in chorus, the girl put the cake down,
and said, `OK, I will give you both a slice of this birthday cake. Would you
let me go then?’
The boys glanced at each other and began discussing their newly found
options as their expressions of Schadenfreude melted into naive
anticipation. In that instance, Kara from the fifth floor appeared from
nowhere and pushed her friend past the boys into the building. When they
finally realized that their victim had escaped with the cake, the boys
franticly emptied their buckets on Kara in defeat. As Kara stood soaking in
water with birthday makeup running through her smiling face, one of the boys
from an apparent change of heart burst into tears.
`Why are you crying, Alec! You are the one who watered me on my own
birthday!’
`I am sorry…’ sobbed Alec through his tears.
`Why are you crying now, boy? Why did you do that to the poor girl on her
birthday? You kids just don’t know when to quit!’ snapped one of the
spectators.
`It’s OK. It’s just water. Please make your friend stop crying,’ Kara said
to Martin as she squeezed water from her ponytail and disappeared into the
building.
`Are you crying because you wanted some cake?’ asked Martin confusedly, as
he put his small wet hand onto Alec’s bent head. `I will ask my Mom to make
one for you.’
Having failed at calming his friend’s inexplicable weeping, Martin glanced
up to see who was still watching them. I felt embarrassed for witnessing the
scene, so I quickly pulled my head inside when he looked in my direction. As
I squatted behind our yellow curtains and waited, I heard a voice calling
the boys’ names. It was Kara.
`Here boys. I don’t know why you would deserve it, but apparently my friend
had promised you this. Please bring the plate back up when you are done, OK?
Don’t forget!’
I looked outside again as the crying intensified for a moment and then
stopped altogether. The boys took the plate cautiously with their both
hands, sat together on a bench under the mulberry tree in our yard and dug
into the precious slice of the cream cake. I watched them licking their
fingers one by one with utmost content drawn on their faces and realized
that as long as there was sunshine, friendship and kindness, children would
always stop crying. I vowed to be like Kara when I grew up.
Suddenly, my noble aspirations were interrupted by a freezing waterfall on
my head from upstairs, followed by Lilit’s recognizable laughter. While I
waited for a few seconds to come to my senses, the boys were doubling up
with giggles, as they shared the last bite of the cream cake.
——————————————– —————————-
9. for verse junkies – your weekly fix of poetry
love@firstsight.com
I was sixteen
going on twelve
she was eighteen
going on thirty
with long shapely legs
dark auburn tresses
emerald eyes
skin the color of early dawn
and a mind
of her
own.
I carried her books
(no laptops
in those days)
did her homework
walked her dog
and shined
her shoes
to boot.
At recess
she downloaded my lunch
and for dessert
she sweet talked me
to hand over
my heart…
`You’re so sweet’
she said.
Tatul Sonentz
2007
***
NUPTIALHOUSE
They are gathered in the room
Cozy and intimate guests
A goblet full to the brim
With booze
Silver-veiled moon
Time is far far away
All feel no pain
A narrow brook outside
Gurgles with glee…
And sings
A dark woman
(With big black eyes)
The windowpane
Reflects Haiastan.
The delicate bride of twenty
Will bear four children
(Life will come and go
Before future is built…)
Four boys One of them me
(A dark woman still sings)
We are not there Yet
It’s my mother’s wedding…
VARAND,
1977
Translated by Tatul Sonentz
***
(c) 2007 Armenian Weekly On-Line. All Rights Reserved.