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Watertown TAB & Press, MA
June 23 2006
Nova dance troupe starring in Armenia
By Noah Bein/ Correspondent
Friday, June 23, 2006 - Updated: 10:45 AM EST
For the first year that he was a member of an Armenian dance group,
Apo Ashjian did not dance a single step.
As a recent immigrant to the United States from Beirut, Lebanon,
in 1970, the 14-year-old Ashjian felt too shy even to hold the hands
of the female members in the dance ensemble, a small local group that
was one of many Armenian cultural endeavors in which his parents
rushed to enroll him after their move to America.
Despite his initial adolescent timidity, Ashjian faithfully
attended each rehearsal.
But eventually he did begin to dance and soon developed an
affection for the cultural heritage of his homeland that would
continue to grow throughout his life.
"My parents' only concern immigrating to America was that 'oh my
God, if we don't get our kids involved in Armenian things, they're
going to lose their heritage. They're going to lose their roots.
They're going to lose their language,' " Ashjian said.
More than 30 years later, the importance of cultural tradition
resonates deeply with Ashjian, a compact, energetic man with short
black hair and deep, arching eyes who is the founding director and
choreographer of Sayat Nova Dance Company of Boston, a nonprofit,
Watertown-based Armenian dance ensemble currently celebrating its
20th year.
Sayat Nova has big plans for its anniversary, with all 72 members
journeying to Armenia this weekend for a seven-show tour that will
make stops at several smaller villages before a climactic final
performance at the opera house in the capital city of Yerevan.
In addition, the company has scheduled a chance to reach its
largest non-Armenian audience yet with two shows at Boston's Cutler
Majestic Theatre this fall.
Since its inception as an independent ensemble in 1986, the
company - named for a legendary Armenian troubadour - has performed
throughout the United States and Canada. Its performances present
audiences with Ashjian's interpretative blend of authentic Armenian
footwork, bright traditional costumes and symbolic storytelling,
which attempts to portray the struggles and triumphs of a people
plagued for centuries by hardship and persecution.
Ashjian said he collects the creative material for his dances
during trips to Armenia, where he travels the country and often meets
with Artousha Karapetian, his former instructor who has scoured the
nation's many small villages for years in search of authentic,
regionally diverse dance techniques.
It is from this traditional foundation, Ashjian said, that the
creative process begins.
"I keep the ethnicity within all those footsteps, but I put it in
a very jazzy choreography," he said, equating his approach to the
modern medley of pop and Irish folk dancing used in the hit show
"Riverdance."
The result of Ashjian's work is accurate and authentic, according
to Liana Sarkisova, 24, a Sayat Nova dancer who began her training as
a child in Armenia before migrating to the United States at age 16
via Russia.
"When I moved here, and I found out there was an Armenian dance group
active and alive and traveling, I was really excited," she said. "...
I came to practice once, and I loved it because it was exactly the
way I remember it was from Armenia."
Practice, practice, practice
At a marathon, four-hour Sunday rehearsal this past weekend at
the Watertown Middle School in preparation for the Armenian tour, the
group appeared loose but focused. A jovial mood broke out among the
dancers during a lunch break, but several yells from the director
sent them scurrying into position. Another Ashjian command and the
dance began.
The music was frantic and triumphant, with wailing melodies and a
frenzied, rolling drum beat. On stage, male dancers in black tights
and white T-shirts moved briskly around in quick formation, bouncing
their feet lightly to the intoxicating rhythm.
After the dance, three of the men - Levon Kurkjian, Bob Parsekian
and Manoug Habibian - took a break to discuss their introduction to
Armenian dance, which they said occurred mostly through local
Armenian schools, through commutes from Worcester.
The men all cited camaraderie as a reason for continuing with the
company, but, they said, there's also the exhilaration of performing.
"When you do that last stomp on stage after every dance and the
crowd goes crazy, it's like hitting a three-point shot with a second
left," said Kurkjian. "It's like I get that same thrill, that same
adrenaline going through your body."
That excitement is part of what Ashjian said he believes will
result from the group's opera house show, a performance that Ashjian
said will be attended by a large number of the singers, artists,
composers and choreographers who make up "the art life of our
country."
"When you step into the opera house, you're actually making a
statement about who your dance company is," Ashjian said.
In a different sense, however, the group's identity is solidified
much more by its place within Armenian heritage than by its artistic
statements.
For generations, the small Middle Eastern nation struggled in the
face of violence.
Despite a native exodus and worldwide diaspora created by
historical adversity, many communities, both at home and abroad,
vigorously maintain artistic traditions. Ashjian noted, for instance,
that there are currently hundreds of authentic dance troupes in
Armenia performing in much the same way Sayat Nova has done in
Watertown.
Although the company made one other trip to the homeland for its
10th anniversary in 1995, turnover in the group is high, and Ashjian
is quick to point out that currently only 11 members have ever
visited the country.
"I want to take these kids there so they can feel the soil, talk
to people," he said. "What happened? How is it that we kept our
country?"
The scattering of Armenians across the globe would seem to pose a
risk of cultural diffusion and a weakening of ethnic bonds. But many
Sayat Nova members said a strong sense of pride and spirit provides
hope for those who remain in Armenia.
"The dance represents the past, the present [and] the future," said
Hagop Ashjian, an assistant director of the group and the younger
brother of Apo. "We danced things on the genocide era ... Now we're
basing our dances to the future, and we're trying to forget a little
bit of the past."
"[The Armenians] feel that once people leave Armenia, then
Armenia is lost [and] everything is lost," he adds. "When we bring
that back to Armenia, they fill up with so much pride, whether we
dance good or not. They're so proud because what they're working for,
all the troubles they're going through ...[are] actually worth it."
Tanya Mikaelian, 25, a dancer who started hanging around group
rehearsals when she was 13 and has been involved with the group for
nearly half her life, recalls an exhibition of this sense of
gratitude near the end of the 1995 Armenia trip.
At the close of the final show in the capital, after a rousing
performance of a dance dedicated to Armenian soldiers fighting on the
country's behalf, Mikaelian said several uniformed military men stood
up in the back of the auditorium, lit a flare and proceeded onto the
stage, where they outfitted the elder Ashjian with their military
garb and happily embraced him.
"It was amazing to see how generous and how happy people were
with what they had, even though they don't have much," Mikaelian
said. "It was very nice to see how giving people were back then."
Ashjian said he believes his dancing can help return the favor.
"When you finish with such patriotism in the show, people understand
that you're projecting your pride and your spirit of who you are," he
said. "You're appreciating the whole audience that's in Armenia [by
saying] 'thank you for what you've done. You've survived for us to be
able to continue work like this.'"
June 23 2006
Nova dance troupe starring in Armenia
By Noah Bein/ Correspondent
Friday, June 23, 2006 - Updated: 10:45 AM EST
For the first year that he was a member of an Armenian dance group,
Apo Ashjian did not dance a single step.
As a recent immigrant to the United States from Beirut, Lebanon,
in 1970, the 14-year-old Ashjian felt too shy even to hold the hands
of the female members in the dance ensemble, a small local group that
was one of many Armenian cultural endeavors in which his parents
rushed to enroll him after their move to America.
Despite his initial adolescent timidity, Ashjian faithfully
attended each rehearsal.
But eventually he did begin to dance and soon developed an
affection for the cultural heritage of his homeland that would
continue to grow throughout his life.
"My parents' only concern immigrating to America was that 'oh my
God, if we don't get our kids involved in Armenian things, they're
going to lose their heritage. They're going to lose their roots.
They're going to lose their language,' " Ashjian said.
More than 30 years later, the importance of cultural tradition
resonates deeply with Ashjian, a compact, energetic man with short
black hair and deep, arching eyes who is the founding director and
choreographer of Sayat Nova Dance Company of Boston, a nonprofit,
Watertown-based Armenian dance ensemble currently celebrating its
20th year.
Sayat Nova has big plans for its anniversary, with all 72 members
journeying to Armenia this weekend for a seven-show tour that will
make stops at several smaller villages before a climactic final
performance at the opera house in the capital city of Yerevan.
In addition, the company has scheduled a chance to reach its
largest non-Armenian audience yet with two shows at Boston's Cutler
Majestic Theatre this fall.
Since its inception as an independent ensemble in 1986, the
company - named for a legendary Armenian troubadour - has performed
throughout the United States and Canada. Its performances present
audiences with Ashjian's interpretative blend of authentic Armenian
footwork, bright traditional costumes and symbolic storytelling,
which attempts to portray the struggles and triumphs of a people
plagued for centuries by hardship and persecution.
Ashjian said he collects the creative material for his dances
during trips to Armenia, where he travels the country and often meets
with Artousha Karapetian, his former instructor who has scoured the
nation's many small villages for years in search of authentic,
regionally diverse dance techniques.
It is from this traditional foundation, Ashjian said, that the
creative process begins.
"I keep the ethnicity within all those footsteps, but I put it in
a very jazzy choreography," he said, equating his approach to the
modern medley of pop and Irish folk dancing used in the hit show
"Riverdance."
The result of Ashjian's work is accurate and authentic, according
to Liana Sarkisova, 24, a Sayat Nova dancer who began her training as
a child in Armenia before migrating to the United States at age 16
via Russia.
"When I moved here, and I found out there was an Armenian dance group
active and alive and traveling, I was really excited," she said. "...
I came to practice once, and I loved it because it was exactly the
way I remember it was from Armenia."
Practice, practice, practice
At a marathon, four-hour Sunday rehearsal this past weekend at
the Watertown Middle School in preparation for the Armenian tour, the
group appeared loose but focused. A jovial mood broke out among the
dancers during a lunch break, but several yells from the director
sent them scurrying into position. Another Ashjian command and the
dance began.
The music was frantic and triumphant, with wailing melodies and a
frenzied, rolling drum beat. On stage, male dancers in black tights
and white T-shirts moved briskly around in quick formation, bouncing
their feet lightly to the intoxicating rhythm.
After the dance, three of the men - Levon Kurkjian, Bob Parsekian
and Manoug Habibian - took a break to discuss their introduction to
Armenian dance, which they said occurred mostly through local
Armenian schools, through commutes from Worcester.
The men all cited camaraderie as a reason for continuing with the
company, but, they said, there's also the exhilaration of performing.
"When you do that last stomp on stage after every dance and the
crowd goes crazy, it's like hitting a three-point shot with a second
left," said Kurkjian. "It's like I get that same thrill, that same
adrenaline going through your body."
That excitement is part of what Ashjian said he believes will
result from the group's opera house show, a performance that Ashjian
said will be attended by a large number of the singers, artists,
composers and choreographers who make up "the art life of our
country."
"When you step into the opera house, you're actually making a
statement about who your dance company is," Ashjian said.
In a different sense, however, the group's identity is solidified
much more by its place within Armenian heritage than by its artistic
statements.
For generations, the small Middle Eastern nation struggled in the
face of violence.
Despite a native exodus and worldwide diaspora created by
historical adversity, many communities, both at home and abroad,
vigorously maintain artistic traditions. Ashjian noted, for instance,
that there are currently hundreds of authentic dance troupes in
Armenia performing in much the same way Sayat Nova has done in
Watertown.
Although the company made one other trip to the homeland for its
10th anniversary in 1995, turnover in the group is high, and Ashjian
is quick to point out that currently only 11 members have ever
visited the country.
"I want to take these kids there so they can feel the soil, talk
to people," he said. "What happened? How is it that we kept our
country?"
The scattering of Armenians across the globe would seem to pose a
risk of cultural diffusion and a weakening of ethnic bonds. But many
Sayat Nova members said a strong sense of pride and spirit provides
hope for those who remain in Armenia.
"The dance represents the past, the present [and] the future," said
Hagop Ashjian, an assistant director of the group and the younger
brother of Apo. "We danced things on the genocide era ... Now we're
basing our dances to the future, and we're trying to forget a little
bit of the past."
"[The Armenians] feel that once people leave Armenia, then
Armenia is lost [and] everything is lost," he adds. "When we bring
that back to Armenia, they fill up with so much pride, whether we
dance good or not. They're so proud because what they're working for,
all the troubles they're going through ...[are] actually worth it."
Tanya Mikaelian, 25, a dancer who started hanging around group
rehearsals when she was 13 and has been involved with the group for
nearly half her life, recalls an exhibition of this sense of
gratitude near the end of the 1995 Armenia trip.
At the close of the final show in the capital, after a rousing
performance of a dance dedicated to Armenian soldiers fighting on the
country's behalf, Mikaelian said several uniformed military men stood
up in the back of the auditorium, lit a flare and proceeded onto the
stage, where they outfitted the elder Ashjian with their military
garb and happily embraced him.
"It was amazing to see how generous and how happy people were
with what they had, even though they don't have much," Mikaelian
said. "It was very nice to see how giving people were back then."
Ashjian said he believes his dancing can help return the favor.
"When you finish with such patriotism in the show, people understand
that you're projecting your pride and your spirit of who you are," he
said. "You're appreciating the whole audience that's in Armenia [by
saying] 'thank you for what you've done. You've survived for us to be
able to continue work like this.'"