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PICTURES WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS
By Mick Oxley, The Journal
THE JOURNAL (Newcastle, UK)
June 27, 2006 Tuesday
Edition 1
Armenia still bears the scars of a terrible earthquake and the Soviet
withdrawal. But artist Mick Oxley found redeeming features on a
recent trip.
Mick Oxley, an artist from Craster, recently returned from Armenia
where he was working at the Veratsnund Art School in the Italian
Village in Spitak.
In 1988, Armenia was devastated by an earthquake which killed more
than 45,000 people and left 500,000 homeless. Spitak, home to 25,000,
was all but levelled.
Some countries supplied temporary accommodation and much of it is
still in use - hence Italian Village.
Mick's trip was organised by Italian charity Family Care, which is
supported by churches in the Alnwick area. Recently they raised £1,700
to buy materials for the art school and to fly Mick out to teach and
inspire the people who use the place.
A wheelchair-user, Mick found attitudes to disabled people in Armenia
less sympathetic than in Britain.
These are extracts from the diary he kept during the trip
:May 6
We arrived on bumpy Tarmac at Yerevan at 11.45pm. As I started to
re-assemble my wheelchair, I was surrounded by uniformed guards. "We
need your passport and dollars for a visa." Welcome to Armenia!
The guards were dressed in drab Soviet-style uniforms with enormous
peaked caps. They kept saying: "You need ambulance!"
I replied: "I don't need an ambulance" and promptly wheeled off to find
myself at a flight of 20 stairs. I hopped out of the chair and scuttled
down the steps on my backside. By now, the reception committee had
grown to about 15, gawping at this nutter bouncing down the staircase.
We piled our cases into two cars and made the 15-minute journey to
our lodgings in central Yerevan.
May 7
After breakfast, we journeyed by car to Italian Village Spitak,
the Lada Niva packed with cases and wheelchair.
Last night on the plane, a steward asked: "Where are you getting off,
Yerevan or Tashkent?"
"Yerevan," I replied.
"On holiday?"
"A working holiday," said I.
"Are you collecting scrap metal then?" he said in jest.
The significance of his remark hit home on the journey. Piles
of rusty metal lay by the road, old cars and contorted pieces of
machinery. Buildings which were being constructed by the Russians
are as they were in 1991 when they left. The road was deeply potholed
and vehicles wove in and out, often at high speed.
Travelling over the high ground to Spitak, we passed ugly, Soviet-built
housing blocks, stranded from the city. The hardness of life up here
screamed out at you.
In total contrast was the majestic beauty of the countryside: soaring,
snow-capped peaks, verdant valleys, eagles gliding on the thermals.
Another massive plus is the warmth of the people, especially out of
the capital. There a wheelchair invites trance-like stares.
We went to Arsen and Arusiak's house in Uzbekistan Village to celebrate
their son's birthday.
May 8
I headed for the Veratsnund Art School at 9am. With two groups coming
every afternoon for the next six days, I felt acutely in need of
preparation. By 6pm, I had tried five styles of painting with the
materials at hand, with differing results. At least I had something
to show the students.
May 9
In the art school by nine.
After lunch, the first of two groups arrived. Not speaking Armenian,
I couldn't really fire them up. Maybe the students, aged six to 14,
were fazed by the odd-looking bloke in a wheelchair who used sign
language. Later, Arsen called round. Like me, Arsen is in a wheelchair,
having broken his back in the earthquake. Also like me, he is trying
to establish himself as an artist. Arsen rarely leaves his immediate
environment, especially in a wheelchair. The terrain makes life hard
and there are stares and comments from some locals.
May 10
I painted a landscape, the road outside, weaving its way through the
mountains. Arsen painted a view of a neighbouring snow-capped mountain
in a more rapid style which was also new to him.
After lunch, the same children reappeared. Happier with the subject
and more comfortable with the teacher, they produced some pleasing
work in pastel.
I visited the orphanage. The kids range from babies to young adults
and have a range of mental and physical disabilities.
Many of the children are not orphans; they have been handed over to
the nuns because they are disabled.
May 12
Invited to the house of Juliette, her son Hovannes and daughter Hamest.
Every time we get in a car it causes comment when I put a seatbelt
on. Having the front seat (for ease of transfer from wheelchair),
it is always noted. Seatbelt wearing is not just optional but almost
frowned upon, taken as a slight against the driver.
With their house destroyed by the earthquake, their home has been
two steel shipping containers bolted together. With the rusting metal
sides, it is very dark and cramped. On the wall is a poignant photo
of Juliette's other daughter, who died in the earthquake. Just before
our visit, the family received their compensation for the loss of
their house - £15.
May 14
The day started with the sound of a cuckoo! We headed to Spitak to
attend Sunday Mass at the new Armenian Apostolic church. In many ways
it was similar to a Roman Catholic Mass; the layout inside was similar,
the incense, the organ and the choir.
Afterwards, we headed up to Venadzor. It was previously a heavily
industrialised town. Now it looks fairly desolate.
The people remain, as do the factories. Sadly, though, for mile after
mile we passed ghost factories.
We journeyed back to Yerevan to view the venue for the exhibition,
the Artbridge in Abovian Street. Set in a pleasant avenue, the gallery
had a good ambience, with tasteful decor and cool music. The only
drawback again was access - two steps up and two down to get in and
inaccessible toilets.
May 15
Some of the children's work is progressing well.
One girl, Piruz, was so cheerful and helpful, constantly translating
for me. Another student, Susan, consistently achieved pleasing
results. Arsen, too, was well into his stride, working happily in his
new-found style. Previously, he had concentrated on religious icons
and very traditional still-lifes.
May 16
I went into the art school early and started on a mountain view.
After 30 minutes, I was visited by three children from the orphanage,
Elizabeth, Igneas and Rosa. All were keen to paint. Within minutes
my picture was transformed into a more abstract representation! All
three left, pleased to have put me right!
We had arranged transport from Spitak to Yerevan for the exhibition
and many of the children were keen to attend with their parents.
May 17
I worked until 2.30pm, ringing and stringing 25 canvases and seven
framed pictures.
All but the framed work had been completed during our six working
days together. There were nine canvases from the children and eight
apiece from Arsen and me.
May 18
We arrived at the Gallery by 5pm and met Arsen and his family. It was
a big event for Arsen to venture out in his wheelchair after years of
ridicule and rude stares. Soon after, the bus from Spitak arrived;
the looks of wonderment on the children's faces as they entered the
gallery and saw their work made everything so worthwhile. The Mayor
of Spitak made a speech, Arsen and I sold a canvas each and were
interviewed by Armenian TV.
May 19
We said our farewells. Arsen and his family had become good friends.
Would I visit again?
I would like to - if someone could help me manoeuvre the wheelchair
over the rough ground and monstrously high kerbstones.
May 20
After breakfast, I sauntered around the city centre. At one point,
I got stranded in the middle of the road while on a crossing with a
green man flashing. A marshrutka (taxicab) stopped and as I turned
to thank him, he was sitting shaking his fists at me!
May 21
Headed for Zvartnots airport. Yerevan was serene at that time of
morning.
The plane arrived late from Tashkent but we boarded without hassle -
only to meet some women from Seahouses.
PS
This was a trip I won't forget. I feel we met our aims. We introduced
Arsen and the students to new ways of working. We also left a legacy
in terms of materials. I hope being there in a wheelchair might
have encouraged Arsen and others to venture out. If by wheeling
around Yerevan I changed one person's view of the disabled, I would
be satisfied.
j Mick is participating in The Art Tour. See his work at the Village
Hall, Whin Hill, Craster, every Sunday in July from 11am to 5pm. Tel.
--Boundary_(ID_8ghcJ8dgveCmyzvFg8z7zA)--
By Mick Oxley, The Journal
THE JOURNAL (Newcastle, UK)
June 27, 2006 Tuesday
Edition 1
Armenia still bears the scars of a terrible earthquake and the Soviet
withdrawal. But artist Mick Oxley found redeeming features on a
recent trip.
Mick Oxley, an artist from Craster, recently returned from Armenia
where he was working at the Veratsnund Art School in the Italian
Village in Spitak.
In 1988, Armenia was devastated by an earthquake which killed more
than 45,000 people and left 500,000 homeless. Spitak, home to 25,000,
was all but levelled.
Some countries supplied temporary accommodation and much of it is
still in use - hence Italian Village.
Mick's trip was organised by Italian charity Family Care, which is
supported by churches in the Alnwick area. Recently they raised £1,700
to buy materials for the art school and to fly Mick out to teach and
inspire the people who use the place.
A wheelchair-user, Mick found attitudes to disabled people in Armenia
less sympathetic than in Britain.
These are extracts from the diary he kept during the trip
:May 6
We arrived on bumpy Tarmac at Yerevan at 11.45pm. As I started to
re-assemble my wheelchair, I was surrounded by uniformed guards. "We
need your passport and dollars for a visa." Welcome to Armenia!
The guards were dressed in drab Soviet-style uniforms with enormous
peaked caps. They kept saying: "You need ambulance!"
I replied: "I don't need an ambulance" and promptly wheeled off to find
myself at a flight of 20 stairs. I hopped out of the chair and scuttled
down the steps on my backside. By now, the reception committee had
grown to about 15, gawping at this nutter bouncing down the staircase.
We piled our cases into two cars and made the 15-minute journey to
our lodgings in central Yerevan.
May 7
After breakfast, we journeyed by car to Italian Village Spitak,
the Lada Niva packed with cases and wheelchair.
Last night on the plane, a steward asked: "Where are you getting off,
Yerevan or Tashkent?"
"Yerevan," I replied.
"On holiday?"
"A working holiday," said I.
"Are you collecting scrap metal then?" he said in jest.
The significance of his remark hit home on the journey. Piles
of rusty metal lay by the road, old cars and contorted pieces of
machinery. Buildings which were being constructed by the Russians
are as they were in 1991 when they left. The road was deeply potholed
and vehicles wove in and out, often at high speed.
Travelling over the high ground to Spitak, we passed ugly, Soviet-built
housing blocks, stranded from the city. The hardness of life up here
screamed out at you.
In total contrast was the majestic beauty of the countryside: soaring,
snow-capped peaks, verdant valleys, eagles gliding on the thermals.
Another massive plus is the warmth of the people, especially out of
the capital. There a wheelchair invites trance-like stares.
We went to Arsen and Arusiak's house in Uzbekistan Village to celebrate
their son's birthday.
May 8
I headed for the Veratsnund Art School at 9am. With two groups coming
every afternoon for the next six days, I felt acutely in need of
preparation. By 6pm, I had tried five styles of painting with the
materials at hand, with differing results. At least I had something
to show the students.
May 9
In the art school by nine.
After lunch, the first of two groups arrived. Not speaking Armenian,
I couldn't really fire them up. Maybe the students, aged six to 14,
were fazed by the odd-looking bloke in a wheelchair who used sign
language. Later, Arsen called round. Like me, Arsen is in a wheelchair,
having broken his back in the earthquake. Also like me, he is trying
to establish himself as an artist. Arsen rarely leaves his immediate
environment, especially in a wheelchair. The terrain makes life hard
and there are stares and comments from some locals.
May 10
I painted a landscape, the road outside, weaving its way through the
mountains. Arsen painted a view of a neighbouring snow-capped mountain
in a more rapid style which was also new to him.
After lunch, the same children reappeared. Happier with the subject
and more comfortable with the teacher, they produced some pleasing
work in pastel.
I visited the orphanage. The kids range from babies to young adults
and have a range of mental and physical disabilities.
Many of the children are not orphans; they have been handed over to
the nuns because they are disabled.
May 12
Invited to the house of Juliette, her son Hovannes and daughter Hamest.
Every time we get in a car it causes comment when I put a seatbelt
on. Having the front seat (for ease of transfer from wheelchair),
it is always noted. Seatbelt wearing is not just optional but almost
frowned upon, taken as a slight against the driver.
With their house destroyed by the earthquake, their home has been
two steel shipping containers bolted together. With the rusting metal
sides, it is very dark and cramped. On the wall is a poignant photo
of Juliette's other daughter, who died in the earthquake. Just before
our visit, the family received their compensation for the loss of
their house - £15.
May 14
The day started with the sound of a cuckoo! We headed to Spitak to
attend Sunday Mass at the new Armenian Apostolic church. In many ways
it was similar to a Roman Catholic Mass; the layout inside was similar,
the incense, the organ and the choir.
Afterwards, we headed up to Venadzor. It was previously a heavily
industrialised town. Now it looks fairly desolate.
The people remain, as do the factories. Sadly, though, for mile after
mile we passed ghost factories.
We journeyed back to Yerevan to view the venue for the exhibition,
the Artbridge in Abovian Street. Set in a pleasant avenue, the gallery
had a good ambience, with tasteful decor and cool music. The only
drawback again was access - two steps up and two down to get in and
inaccessible toilets.
May 15
Some of the children's work is progressing well.
One girl, Piruz, was so cheerful and helpful, constantly translating
for me. Another student, Susan, consistently achieved pleasing
results. Arsen, too, was well into his stride, working happily in his
new-found style. Previously, he had concentrated on religious icons
and very traditional still-lifes.
May 16
I went into the art school early and started on a mountain view.
After 30 minutes, I was visited by three children from the orphanage,
Elizabeth, Igneas and Rosa. All were keen to paint. Within minutes
my picture was transformed into a more abstract representation! All
three left, pleased to have put me right!
We had arranged transport from Spitak to Yerevan for the exhibition
and many of the children were keen to attend with their parents.
May 17
I worked until 2.30pm, ringing and stringing 25 canvases and seven
framed pictures.
All but the framed work had been completed during our six working
days together. There were nine canvases from the children and eight
apiece from Arsen and me.
May 18
We arrived at the Gallery by 5pm and met Arsen and his family. It was
a big event for Arsen to venture out in his wheelchair after years of
ridicule and rude stares. Soon after, the bus from Spitak arrived;
the looks of wonderment on the children's faces as they entered the
gallery and saw their work made everything so worthwhile. The Mayor
of Spitak made a speech, Arsen and I sold a canvas each and were
interviewed by Armenian TV.
May 19
We said our farewells. Arsen and his family had become good friends.
Would I visit again?
I would like to - if someone could help me manoeuvre the wheelchair
over the rough ground and monstrously high kerbstones.
May 20
After breakfast, I sauntered around the city centre. At one point,
I got stranded in the middle of the road while on a crossing with a
green man flashing. A marshrutka (taxicab) stopped and as I turned
to thank him, he was sitting shaking his fists at me!
May 21
Headed for Zvartnots airport. Yerevan was serene at that time of
morning.
The plane arrived late from Tashkent but we boarded without hassle -
only to meet some women from Seahouses.
PS
This was a trip I won't forget. I feel we met our aims. We introduced
Arsen and the students to new ways of working. We also left a legacy
in terms of materials. I hope being there in a wheelchair might
have encouraged Arsen and others to venture out. If by wheeling
around Yerevan I changed one person's view of the disabled, I would
be satisfied.
j Mick is participating in The Art Tour. See his work at the Village
Hall, Whin Hill, Craster, every Sunday in July from 11am to 5pm. Tel.
--Boundary_(ID_8ghcJ8dgveCmyzvFg8z7zA)--