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Hartford Courant , CT
Nov 27 2004
A Child Shall Lead Them On The Organ
At Armenian Church In New Britain, Next Generation Plays A Key Role
November 27, 2004
By DON STACOM, Courant Staff Writer
NEW BRITAIN -- It is a tale shared by so many old, ethnic churches
entrenched in Northeast cities: The pews are getting a bit emptier,
the parishioners a bit more elderly.
As the first-wave immigrants who once clustered together in
tight-knit neighborhoods die off, their children - or grandchildren -
move on. And the churches that had been vibrant centers of worship,
culture and social life begin to fade, their vitality sapped.
In the heart of downtown, the 100 or so dues-paying members of St.
Stephen's Armenian Apostolic Church are committed to keeping the
oldest Armenian church in Connecticut alive and well. And they
believe they have in their midst someone who will strengthen their
link to the next generation. His name is Vahe Hovhannisyan, and in
March he will be 10.
"Vahe is a gift to us from God," said Father Krikor Keshishian,
priest at St. Stephen's. "He loves his music, and he loves his
church."
Vahe captured the congregation's attention last summer when longtime
church organist Shirley Kevorkian announced she was tiring of her
duties.
"I thought we would have to start playing recorded music on CDs; I
didn't know what we could do," Keshishian recalled. "Vahe came up to
me and said `I'll play.'"
And now the shy 9-year-old - who has never formally studied music -
is St. Stephen's organist. For 21/2 hours every Sunday morning, Vahe
accompanies the choir and deacon for the liturgical service.
Vahe plays a keyboard at home, and takes music classes twice a week
with his fourth-grade class at Griswold School in Berlin. But he has
never formally studied music or gotten professional lessons. He
practices at the church every weekday afternoon, and recently learned
the music for the funeral and wedding ceremonies.
"You're just overwhelmed that this little boy would take over playing
the organ, and that he would want so badly to do it," said Lila
Winters, 75, a lifelong member of St. Stephen's.
>>From the pews, the diminutive boy can hardly be seen behind the
31/2-foot-high Conn organ. First-time visitors to the church
occasionally ask who played the music, and are astonished when
Keshishian points to the boy.
"He's the future generation. He just enriches everybody in the
parish," Winters said.
"When he plays, you look at the older parishioners and they've all
got smiles on their faces," said George Rustigian, former chairman of
the church's trustees. "He's probably doing as much for the elderly
as for the youth."
There is no doubt that St. Stephen's seeks more youth. Some second-
and third-generation parishioners remain, of course, but others have
drifted off, drawn to more comfortable homes in distant suburbs, or
to jobs in the Sunbelt, or perhaps simply away from the church that
bound their parents and grandparents so closely.
St. Stephen's parishioners have seen that cycle play out just a few
blocks away. All Saints Church on Wilcox Street served the city's
once-thriving Slovak community for 84 years, but faltered in the
later decades and closed in 2002.
"We're hanging on, sometimes by a string," said Winters. "Some people
are so old, they don't come because they can't make the stairs. We
have a banquet every year with more than 150 people. If they'd come
to church every week, we'd be fine."
Out of perhaps 100 dues-paying members at St. Stephen's now, more
than a third live in the city and many attend services sporadically.
"Maybe we have 50 people one week, then the next Sunday we'll get
10," Rustigian said. "It's very difficult if just the parents and
grandparents support the church. We need the younger Armenians."
Life was once very different at the church on Tremont Street.
"Fifty years ago, there were probably 30 to 40 Armenian families in a
six-block vicinity of the church. Between North Street and Allen
Street, there were Armenian tailors and jewelers and shops,"
Rustigian said.
"I was born near there, and it was one big happy Armenian family,"
Winters recalled.
"My grandfather and grandmother lived on the first floor of the
building, we lived on the second floor, my aunt and uncle were on the
third, and another aunt and uncle were across the street," said
Winters, who now lives in Plainville.
"That's way back. Like they say, `the good old days.' I know you
can't backtrack," she said. "But with Vahe, we think maybe he will
encourage more younger people to come to the church. Hopefully that
generation will see that he's playing and they'll want to come."
Kevorkian is one of the last members of the original community. Her
parents were founders of the church in 1925, and she still lives just
across Tremont Street.
"I was practically raised in the church. It's like a second home to
all of us," she said. "Everything runs around it, all our functions."
She played St. Stephen's organ for 60 years, and this year was ready
to stop.
"You become very popular, everyone knows me and every little thing
about me. But you get tired," she said.
Vahe, who has listened to classical music since he was a toddler,
volunteered to take her place. Keshishian was skeptical, but said the
boy won him over with a relentless determination to learn the music.
"When you love something, you do it. And I know the boy loves music,"
Kevorkian said. "He's only at the beginning stages. He'll be very
good when he's really into it."
Tigran and Sophia Hovhannisyan brought their son, Vahe, and daughter,
Annie, to the United States from Armenia eight years ago. They are
precisely the sort of young family that St. Stephen's seeks: Devoted
to the church, and eager to keep up their cultural heritage.
"I tell my son, `Feel very proud. Armenians are the first nationality
that accepted Christianity, we were the first to see the light in
Christianity," Tigran Hovhannisyan said. "We try to transfer the
traditions to the next generation, and keep them always with the
religion."
Vahe is a Boy Scout, swims at the YMCA and plays soccer and
basketball; but every afternoon he goes to St. Stephen's to practice.
At his home in Kensington, he listens to Strauss, Verdi and
Beethoven, and plays on a Yamaha keyboard in the living room.
Asked about his music, he is almost bashful, and says quietly, "I
think I wanted to play the piano when I was 3."
What is his favorite piece in the liturgy? Vahe replied by walking to
the Yamaha to play Amen Hayr Soorp, or Amen Holy Father.
"I like the melody," Yahe said simply. "I just like to play it."
Keshishian patted him on the head, and said: "We are all proud of
Vahe. He's very awake for a 9-year-old boy. What was I doing when I
was 9? I don't remember. But he is playing the entire divine
liturgy."
Nov 27 2004
A Child Shall Lead Them On The Organ
At Armenian Church In New Britain, Next Generation Plays A Key Role
November 27, 2004
By DON STACOM, Courant Staff Writer
NEW BRITAIN -- It is a tale shared by so many old, ethnic churches
entrenched in Northeast cities: The pews are getting a bit emptier,
the parishioners a bit more elderly.
As the first-wave immigrants who once clustered together in
tight-knit neighborhoods die off, their children - or grandchildren -
move on. And the churches that had been vibrant centers of worship,
culture and social life begin to fade, their vitality sapped.
In the heart of downtown, the 100 or so dues-paying members of St.
Stephen's Armenian Apostolic Church are committed to keeping the
oldest Armenian church in Connecticut alive and well. And they
believe they have in their midst someone who will strengthen their
link to the next generation. His name is Vahe Hovhannisyan, and in
March he will be 10.
"Vahe is a gift to us from God," said Father Krikor Keshishian,
priest at St. Stephen's. "He loves his music, and he loves his
church."
Vahe captured the congregation's attention last summer when longtime
church organist Shirley Kevorkian announced she was tiring of her
duties.
"I thought we would have to start playing recorded music on CDs; I
didn't know what we could do," Keshishian recalled. "Vahe came up to
me and said `I'll play.'"
And now the shy 9-year-old - who has never formally studied music -
is St. Stephen's organist. For 21/2 hours every Sunday morning, Vahe
accompanies the choir and deacon for the liturgical service.
Vahe plays a keyboard at home, and takes music classes twice a week
with his fourth-grade class at Griswold School in Berlin. But he has
never formally studied music or gotten professional lessons. He
practices at the church every weekday afternoon, and recently learned
the music for the funeral and wedding ceremonies.
"You're just overwhelmed that this little boy would take over playing
the organ, and that he would want so badly to do it," said Lila
Winters, 75, a lifelong member of St. Stephen's.
>>From the pews, the diminutive boy can hardly be seen behind the
31/2-foot-high Conn organ. First-time visitors to the church
occasionally ask who played the music, and are astonished when
Keshishian points to the boy.
"He's the future generation. He just enriches everybody in the
parish," Winters said.
"When he plays, you look at the older parishioners and they've all
got smiles on their faces," said George Rustigian, former chairman of
the church's trustees. "He's probably doing as much for the elderly
as for the youth."
There is no doubt that St. Stephen's seeks more youth. Some second-
and third-generation parishioners remain, of course, but others have
drifted off, drawn to more comfortable homes in distant suburbs, or
to jobs in the Sunbelt, or perhaps simply away from the church that
bound their parents and grandparents so closely.
St. Stephen's parishioners have seen that cycle play out just a few
blocks away. All Saints Church on Wilcox Street served the city's
once-thriving Slovak community for 84 years, but faltered in the
later decades and closed in 2002.
"We're hanging on, sometimes by a string," said Winters. "Some people
are so old, they don't come because they can't make the stairs. We
have a banquet every year with more than 150 people. If they'd come
to church every week, we'd be fine."
Out of perhaps 100 dues-paying members at St. Stephen's now, more
than a third live in the city and many attend services sporadically.
"Maybe we have 50 people one week, then the next Sunday we'll get
10," Rustigian said. "It's very difficult if just the parents and
grandparents support the church. We need the younger Armenians."
Life was once very different at the church on Tremont Street.
"Fifty years ago, there were probably 30 to 40 Armenian families in a
six-block vicinity of the church. Between North Street and Allen
Street, there were Armenian tailors and jewelers and shops,"
Rustigian said.
"I was born near there, and it was one big happy Armenian family,"
Winters recalled.
"My grandfather and grandmother lived on the first floor of the
building, we lived on the second floor, my aunt and uncle were on the
third, and another aunt and uncle were across the street," said
Winters, who now lives in Plainville.
"That's way back. Like they say, `the good old days.' I know you
can't backtrack," she said. "But with Vahe, we think maybe he will
encourage more younger people to come to the church. Hopefully that
generation will see that he's playing and they'll want to come."
Kevorkian is one of the last members of the original community. Her
parents were founders of the church in 1925, and she still lives just
across Tremont Street.
"I was practically raised in the church. It's like a second home to
all of us," she said. "Everything runs around it, all our functions."
She played St. Stephen's organ for 60 years, and this year was ready
to stop.
"You become very popular, everyone knows me and every little thing
about me. But you get tired," she said.
Vahe, who has listened to classical music since he was a toddler,
volunteered to take her place. Keshishian was skeptical, but said the
boy won him over with a relentless determination to learn the music.
"When you love something, you do it. And I know the boy loves music,"
Kevorkian said. "He's only at the beginning stages. He'll be very
good when he's really into it."
Tigran and Sophia Hovhannisyan brought their son, Vahe, and daughter,
Annie, to the United States from Armenia eight years ago. They are
precisely the sort of young family that St. Stephen's seeks: Devoted
to the church, and eager to keep up their cultural heritage.
"I tell my son, `Feel very proud. Armenians are the first nationality
that accepted Christianity, we were the first to see the light in
Christianity," Tigran Hovhannisyan said. "We try to transfer the
traditions to the next generation, and keep them always with the
religion."
Vahe is a Boy Scout, swims at the YMCA and plays soccer and
basketball; but every afternoon he goes to St. Stephen's to practice.
At his home in Kensington, he listens to Strauss, Verdi and
Beethoven, and plays on a Yamaha keyboard in the living room.
Asked about his music, he is almost bashful, and says quietly, "I
think I wanted to play the piano when I was 3."
What is his favorite piece in the liturgy? Vahe replied by walking to
the Yamaha to play Amen Hayr Soorp, or Amen Holy Father.
"I like the melody," Yahe said simply. "I just like to play it."
Keshishian patted him on the head, and said: "We are all proud of
Vahe. He's very awake for a 9-year-old boy. What was I doing when I
was 9? I don't remember. But he is playing the entire divine
liturgy."