Author: Hovik Karapetian

Today, the Art Newspaper reported that the Istanbul Biennial rejected Defne Ayas as the next curator of their biannual event in favor of a far more autocratic-friendly curator who is currently working with projects in Saudi Arabia and elsewhere, Iwona Blazwick. 

Journalist Christina Ruiz reported that critics are suggesting that Ayas’s curation of the 2015 Turkish pavilion of the Venice Biennale featuring Turkish-Armenian artist Sarkis was partly to blame. It’s clearly the reason, even if no one will go on record to state it, and one that I think is probably accurate based on what I’ve seen over the years around this topic. One cannot underestimate the role Armenian Genocide denial has played in Turkish society, how the state has benefited, and how it trickles down to the culture industries, like contemporary art. 

As Ruiz outlines, the 2015 Turkish Pavilion was impacted by genocide denial. She writes:

A catalogue accompanying the show included an essay written by Rakel Dink, the widow of the Turkish-Armenian journalist Hrant Dink who was assassinated in Istanbul in 2007. In her text, Dink made a passing reference to the “Armenian genocide” to describe the pain of her people. Following a complaint from the Turkish government, which denies that the genocide took place, the catalogue was withdrawn. Ayas and Sarkis then placed all remaining copies into a coffin which Sarkis covered in coloured glass and transformed into a sculpture (Respiro, 2015).

At the time, many of us, particularly in the Armenian diasporan art community, were shocked to learn that the pavilion would remain open during the Venice Biennale. A small but significant act of genocide denial was met with an esoteric artwork rather than a clear, open response. Sarkis, who, to be clear, most diasporan Armenians have never heard of, was part of that decision (I think most people mistakenly think Armenians in Turkey are part of the diaspora, which they are not, as they continue to remain in the country of their ancestral lands.). It was all very disturbing.

The same year, the 2015 Istanbul Biennial was curated by Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev, and I, for one, refused to attend the show, seeing from afar how serious topics such as the Armenian Genocide were clearly being obfuscated in a nation that has never been safe for indigenous minorities. Just two months before the show opened, Turkey had entered the third phase of the conflict by the Turkish state to eradicate Kurdish insurgents in the same eastern provinces in which Armenians, Assyrians, and Yazidis were massacred just a century before.

Christov-Bakargiev’s program was clear, since she never tapped into the established and growing networks of Armenian artists, curators, and intellectuals from the diaspora, but chose individual artists with little connection or interest in the Armenian arts community. The choice to essentialize Armenians to artists with Armenian heritage, rather than working with a group of people in the Armenian community doing the memory work related to the genocide and our exile from what is currently the Republic of Turkey during the centennial of the Armenian Genocide, was a definitive political choice. All this is also symptomatic of contemporary art, where minorities are represented by individuals, often with no connection to the community they pretend to speak for, who fail to engage with the current conversations raging inside and outside those same communities and with topics that have real-world political consequences.

A full account of how the Turkish art world continues to benefit from genocide denial is too long to list, but it includes museums, such as the Turkish and Islamic Arts Museum, where Armenian intellectuals were jailed during the infamous April 24, 1915 events that are commemorated every year by Armenians and human rights defenders the world over. In 2015, I was in Istanbul during the Centennial Commemorations for the Armenian Genocide along with hundreds of other Armenians from the diaspora who were descendants of genocide survivors. Our group wasn’t even allowed the right to gather at the museum for fear of attacks from Turkish nationalists. Then there is the topic of Koç Holding, the main sponsor of the Istanbul Biennial. The country’s largest corporation, Koç Holding is still run by the Koç family, who made much of their money a century ago by buying Armenian properties confiscated during the genocide for pennies on the dollar. The wounds of the genocide, which Turkey continues to adamantly deny, are never seriously addressed, and they never seem to heal.

Now, Istanbul Foundation For Culture and the Arts (IKSV) doesn’t appear to think Defne Ayas is complicit enough in their genocide-denying agenda, so they have inserted the far more ethically challenged Blazwick, who is sure to curate a more plutocrat-friendly exhibition. 

To emphasize what Turkish curator Vasif Kortun told the Art Newspaper:

“The biennial does not know which geography it is in. There has not been a single curator from the Balkans or the southern Mediterranean. Instead, we’ve seen a succession of white Europeans since 2015. I find the whole thing shocking.”

Why are White Europeans always being tapped for the role? It’s interesting that Kortun mentions 2015, which makes me think perhaps they saw how successfully they were able to tap Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev to create the illusion of dealing with deeper societal issues while doing none of that and, in my opinion, hurting the larger conversations that exiled descendants of the Armenian Genocide are trying to have with the Republic of Turkey in relation to its continued history of denial. 

To her credit, Ayas, who can be quite an excellent curator, was very clear with us at Hyperallergic when we asked her about some of the high and low points of 2015: 

Most distressing? When our publication for Respiro by Sarkis at the Pavilion of Turkey at the 56th Venice Biennale was censored. The news arrived to us on April 24 — the day of the 100th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. Imagine the double pain and terror of working with the strict codes of the deep state, while trying to imagine a breathing space for all of us.

What I hope Ayas, and other members of the Turkish art world (both inside and outside the Republic), realize is that you can never give in to genocide denial in any form. You might think you’re being political but the reality is you’re emboldening the deniers, who will always demand more.

Blazwick is part of the problem. As a former member of the IKSV board, Blazwick was on the same advisory panel responsible for choosing a biennial curator, and has now rejected the unanimously agreed upon advice to appoint Ayas and has snagged the post herself.

When people say autocrats rot culture, this is what they mean. Blazwick now apes the same autocrats and plutocrats she serves and curates for. Why abide by a vote when you can usurp the position yourself?

Editor’s Note, 08/11/23: The term “Istanbul biennial” was mistakenly used instead of “Turkish pavilion” in one instance and that has been corrected.

“Aurora’s Sunrise” is a historical documentary about the horror of the Armenian genocide, but its power comes from being filtered through the eyes and voice of one of its survivors. It forces one to consider how many stories, horrors, and triumphs have been lost to history because they didn’t have a film like “Auction of Souls” or a confident storyteller like Aurora to tell them. The events in this film unfolded over a century ago, yet it all feels so present in director Inna Sahakyan’s hands because of how much she gives them to Aurora. A narrator tells parts of her story, but we also hear Aurora herself often, intercut with footage of her as a young woman recreating her trauma. The layers of filmmaking—truth on recreation on truth—give the whole thing a fascinating power because it emphasizes the need to not only have people willing to tell these stories but also to listen.

I wished some of the animation was a little sharper, although I suspect the lack of style is intentional. Characters have a habit of floating instead of walking and minimal facial expressions, but a stronger animated look might have really amplified the sense of memory in the overall piece. Christine Aufderhaar’s lovely score helps greatly with the animated segments, giving them an even greater sense of loss without being manipulative.

The interview with Aurora herself is captivating, but I found myself most entranced every time “Sunrise” cut to “Auction of Souls.” Here’s a silent film with hundreds of extras shot in the California desert, depicting abject horrors that took place relatively recently on the other side of the world. It was clearly an act of activism, but it’s also just a breathtakingly daring production that looks like it was truly dangerous to film. And all of it was almost lost forever. In an era when it seems like everything is being recorded all the time, leading to unbelievable access to events happening around the world, “Aurora’s Sunrise” is a reminder that we can’t let it all turn into just white noise, that we need to truly see and hear, or we risk losing the history that has shaped us all.

In limited release now, expanding across the country over the coming weeks.

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/auroras-sunrise-movie-review-2023

For the past five years, Storica Wines has worked to draw attention to this ancient terroir and raise awareness of Armenian wine amongst U.S. consumers

As someone who grew up close to his Armenian heritage in New York, Zack Armen has long felt compelled to engage in activities that benefited his ancestral homeland as well as its diaspora. It wasn’t until he founded Storica Wines, though, that he discovered how to do so in a way that was not only multi-generational, but scalable. 

Like so many others in the wine industry, Armen’s personal and professional path has been varied. He began his career in the world of financial services, which equipped him with key skills such as managing profit and loss statements and projecting future returns, that became foundational for launching an import company. Storica, which was founded in 2018, now holds the designation of being the leading import, sales, and marketing company for Armenian wines to the United States. 

Storica began as a tight-knit team of four, but they now have 19 employees working virtually and on the ground in order to help draw attention to a lesser-known part of the world. In Armen’s words: “Our company’s core mission is to build the Armenian wine category in the U.S. market by working with select wineries that are producing fine wine with indigenous varietals.” With 500 retailers and restaurants under their belt spanning 23 states from California to Louisiana, they are fast working toward that objective. In 2022, for instance, they sold 4,773 nine-liter cases of wine; In the first four months of 2023 alone, they sold 3,055, nearly triple the previous year.

In total, they have seven different brands from five different producers, such as Keush, which produces traditional method sparkling wine from indigenous grape varieties, and Voskevaz, renowned for fermenting their wine in clay amphorae. Storica’s goal is to increase the volume of sales in each of the states they currently distribute to, as well as nearly doubling the number of states in the next few years. For now, however, they are focused on channeling their efforts and resources toward building upon the brands they currently carry and strengthening relations with their clients, including James Beard award-winning restaurants like Galit in Chicago and O ya, Boston. 

Zack Armen: I visited Armenia pretty much every year over the last 20 years, but the idea of Storica Wines was inspired by a trip I took there in 2017. I noticed that there was seemingly all of a sudden a lot of really great wine produced from indigenous grapes by local Armenian wineries. So, being curious, I started to ask questions as to what was stimulating this wine movement. That was when I met the dynamic father and daughter team that is Vahe and Aimee Keushgerian, two of the leaders of this wine renaissance [and the founders of Zulal]. 

Over the course of many months after my visit, they explained Armenia’s unique terroir and heritage of winemaking to me. Their insights and passion were highly compelling. I not only saw an opportunity, but felt a responsibility to share the beautiful story of Armenia’s ancient traditions and modern wines with the U.S.  

It soon became apparent how important it was for Armenia as a wine region to create a robust presence in the U.S. marketplace. Upon doing further research, I took it upon myself to develop a business plan that supports the growth of this category in the States, delivering a really valuable outcome to the Armenian economy via wine sales and wine tourism. 

We select wineries based on a pretty rigorous evaluation process that is led by our general manager Ara Sarkissian. Included in that is a focus on the styles and quality of wine that U.S. trade and consumers are looking for and the appropriate price points at which these wines will find demand. We also think about how these wines will fit into our portfolio and whether they will be complementary or disruptive and competitive with the existing brands. This process is repeated every year as [more] Armenian wineries seek representation.

Because we aim to gain a foothold in a majority of states, we have a pretty involved and proactive process in order to reach out to distributors in those which we’re not yet represented. We invest heavily in a team of seasoned wine professionals to travel the country visiting on- and off-premise accounts along with our distributors to ensure staff as well as consumers have an opportunity to hear about the unique terroir and attributes of Armenian wine directly from us. This helps create context within which the wines can be understood. 

Voskevaz Winery (above), one of the brands carried by Storica, is renowned for fermenting their wine in clay amphorae. Photo credit: Zenith Photography.

We faced a lot of challenges in our first two-and-a-half years of operations that we have learned a lot from. Even though we have unique wines that offer great quality and value, there’s still a lot of risk aversion in this industry post COVID. That, however, has been counterbalanced by consumers and wine professionals who consistently seek out quality wines that are new, adventurous, and off-the-beaten path. We strongly believe that those will ultimately win out over the risk aversion that exists in the middle of the value chain. 

Wine drinkers are always looking to explore new categories and interest in emerging categories is on the rise. Armenia, with its ancient winemaking history and unique extreme elevation viticulture, stands to gain from that.

https://daily.sevenfifty.com/storica-is-carving-a-place-for-armenian-wine-in-the-u-s/