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Panorama, Armenia
Dec 17 2011
Impressions of Italy on the way to Yerevan
An exhibition titled `Armenia: Impressions of a Civilization' opened
at the Correr Museum in Venice on December 14. Perhaps the impression
would be indescribable if Panorama.am had not been there on a business
trip.
`Focus the cam on the upper part,' says a respectable clergyman to a
cameraman, pointing to the ceiling.
While the cameraman is explaining that he needs illumination, I say `I
will do it through my eyes.'
`It will be free of charge then, he smiles. Just look at these riches.'
I once again take a quick glance at the frescos on the ceiling, as if
`filming' them, and understand that being on the run all day, it's no
use trying to fully absorb what I see.
I again come up to the painting Noah Descending from Ararat by
Hovhannes Aivazovsky, which has also come to confirm the respect for
the age of printing, as if (after St. Lazarus) by cousin's right. I
stop at the manuscripts brought from Matenadaran, feeling proud for
their display in Italy and at the same time a little careful and
worried for leaving them here.
A strange thing: for the first time I notice that sheets of paper are
inserted under the pages for the manuscript pages to be even, like
those of a book. Everyone comes up to take a look at the letters,
Armenians can read them, while visitors of other nationalities cast an
admiring glance at the miniatures and leave. I look at the uneven
edges of the old pages put on new sheets of paper and my mind goes
back across centuries, and I imagine the uneven path of this
manuscript...
I walk around the halls also to ask for opinions. I see a man and a
woman, both Armenians, standing at both ends of an illuminated table.
They look at the alphabet placed on the table and `pronounce' the
Armenian letters. I hear them saying:
`This is K.'
`No, this is G.'
`No, you say `jur' (`water') while we say `chur.'
`Are you arguing? I ask them quietly.
There is a clergyman standing between them.
`Yes, and he is my husband,' the woman confirms both facts joyfully.
`I guess your argument will get hotter when you begin to argue about
whether to say `bad' or `pat,' I say.
I leave them to think about the difference between `bad' and `pat' and
approach Italy-based Armenians to ask for their opinions.
However, not opinions, but unanimous Admiration (very, very much),
Pride (lifting up their eyes).
`Why is this exhibition so important to you?' (I have my own opinion,
but it is not unnecessary, more, I am obliged to listen to the
opinions of the attendees).
`I hear Italians, walking around the halls, saying surprisedly: they
are Italy and Venice, while we are the first Christian state?'
This factor is in fact voiced first of all and named priority.
I remember the Apostolic-Catholic talks which emerged the day we
visited the Pope and still remain here.
`What is the difference? A Christian is a Christian and an Armenian is
an Armenian' - this was the message which various people - diplomats,
seculars, clergymen - in various places were repeating. Probably I
agree with them, at least as long as we are in Italy.
I look at people who have gathered in the halls beside the benches,
speaking half English - half Western-Eastern Armenian, waiting for the
Armenian President to listen to his speech. I am thinking the Diaspora
is like Aivazovsky's painting in Venice...
Something distant suddenly becomes dear, tangible and worthy of care.
`What makes you proud? I `press' next Armenian who is filled with
admiration and pride.
`You know, I am proud internally when I take a look at all this,
besides, the Italians know about Armenians, about Saint Lazarus, and
they will now see and know who we are besides this.
Yes, representation is important, I say to myself. Who knows what
these people face in a foreign country, far away from homeland, they
in fact have to show what WE have, to show they are the masters of
everything which is displayed here, everything cultural they have left
in OUR homeland.
I ask an Armenian to interpret my question to a museum employee: I ask
her about her impressions. She is impressed and interested. She is
convinced this is an important event both for Armenians and Italians.
`Certainly it will boost tourism,' she says. `In these days, for sure,
many Italians attending the exhibition `Armenia: Impressions of a
Civilization' will decide to visit Armenia.'
Hmm, from `Armenia: Impressions of a Civilization' they will decide to
see him who made the impression. But how can they see? This was the
next question but I kept it to myself.
`The Italians also get surprised when they read historical facts on
the walls, whereas they thought Armenia is only churches and
cathedrals... Well, you see, the inscriptions on the walls say...
I have seen them. In Italian and in English. No word in Armenian. The
problem was printing and fonts. Though I have not mentioned any
shortcoming before, nevertheless, a thought repeatedly slips into my
mind - `the irony of fate.' I don't know whether it exists, but the
warning comes.
(We need to raise this question in the Ministry of Culture).
The President and those present are invited to an Armenian sacred
music concert in San Marco Cathedral of Venice.
Music fills the walls of the cathedral, as if flowing not only through
our ears. It's OK if I repeat it once again... it's not excessive to
say.
The next day Yerevan and Venice are declared sister cities.
We are at the airport. We are being checked thoroughly.
`Checking is the right thing,' a security officer says loudly, yet
without correcting anyone.
`Writing is the right thing,' I am thinking and beginning to write on
the plane already.
While the plane is approaching Armenia, the notion of community, which
was obvious and understandable in Italy, begins to separate. The
Armenian delegation and journalists are acquiring their names -
minister, mayor, spokesman... TVs, Panorama.am.
No more Italian essays. Beginning tomorrow - dry journalism and
journalistic routine; a question to the Minister of Culture; an
interview with the Mayor of Yerevan...
Dec 17 2011
Impressions of Italy on the way to Yerevan
An exhibition titled `Armenia: Impressions of a Civilization' opened
at the Correr Museum in Venice on December 14. Perhaps the impression
would be indescribable if Panorama.am had not been there on a business
trip.
`Focus the cam on the upper part,' says a respectable clergyman to a
cameraman, pointing to the ceiling.
While the cameraman is explaining that he needs illumination, I say `I
will do it through my eyes.'
`It will be free of charge then, he smiles. Just look at these riches.'
I once again take a quick glance at the frescos on the ceiling, as if
`filming' them, and understand that being on the run all day, it's no
use trying to fully absorb what I see.
I again come up to the painting Noah Descending from Ararat by
Hovhannes Aivazovsky, which has also come to confirm the respect for
the age of printing, as if (after St. Lazarus) by cousin's right. I
stop at the manuscripts brought from Matenadaran, feeling proud for
their display in Italy and at the same time a little careful and
worried for leaving them here.
A strange thing: for the first time I notice that sheets of paper are
inserted under the pages for the manuscript pages to be even, like
those of a book. Everyone comes up to take a look at the letters,
Armenians can read them, while visitors of other nationalities cast an
admiring glance at the miniatures and leave. I look at the uneven
edges of the old pages put on new sheets of paper and my mind goes
back across centuries, and I imagine the uneven path of this
manuscript...
I walk around the halls also to ask for opinions. I see a man and a
woman, both Armenians, standing at both ends of an illuminated table.
They look at the alphabet placed on the table and `pronounce' the
Armenian letters. I hear them saying:
`This is K.'
`No, this is G.'
`No, you say `jur' (`water') while we say `chur.'
`Are you arguing? I ask them quietly.
There is a clergyman standing between them.
`Yes, and he is my husband,' the woman confirms both facts joyfully.
`I guess your argument will get hotter when you begin to argue about
whether to say `bad' or `pat,' I say.
I leave them to think about the difference between `bad' and `pat' and
approach Italy-based Armenians to ask for their opinions.
However, not opinions, but unanimous Admiration (very, very much),
Pride (lifting up their eyes).
`Why is this exhibition so important to you?' (I have my own opinion,
but it is not unnecessary, more, I am obliged to listen to the
opinions of the attendees).
`I hear Italians, walking around the halls, saying surprisedly: they
are Italy and Venice, while we are the first Christian state?'
This factor is in fact voiced first of all and named priority.
I remember the Apostolic-Catholic talks which emerged the day we
visited the Pope and still remain here.
`What is the difference? A Christian is a Christian and an Armenian is
an Armenian' - this was the message which various people - diplomats,
seculars, clergymen - in various places were repeating. Probably I
agree with them, at least as long as we are in Italy.
I look at people who have gathered in the halls beside the benches,
speaking half English - half Western-Eastern Armenian, waiting for the
Armenian President to listen to his speech. I am thinking the Diaspora
is like Aivazovsky's painting in Venice...
Something distant suddenly becomes dear, tangible and worthy of care.
`What makes you proud? I `press' next Armenian who is filled with
admiration and pride.
`You know, I am proud internally when I take a look at all this,
besides, the Italians know about Armenians, about Saint Lazarus, and
they will now see and know who we are besides this.
Yes, representation is important, I say to myself. Who knows what
these people face in a foreign country, far away from homeland, they
in fact have to show what WE have, to show they are the masters of
everything which is displayed here, everything cultural they have left
in OUR homeland.
I ask an Armenian to interpret my question to a museum employee: I ask
her about her impressions. She is impressed and interested. She is
convinced this is an important event both for Armenians and Italians.
`Certainly it will boost tourism,' she says. `In these days, for sure,
many Italians attending the exhibition `Armenia: Impressions of a
Civilization' will decide to visit Armenia.'
Hmm, from `Armenia: Impressions of a Civilization' they will decide to
see him who made the impression. But how can they see? This was the
next question but I kept it to myself.
`The Italians also get surprised when they read historical facts on
the walls, whereas they thought Armenia is only churches and
cathedrals... Well, you see, the inscriptions on the walls say...
I have seen them. In Italian and in English. No word in Armenian. The
problem was printing and fonts. Though I have not mentioned any
shortcoming before, nevertheless, a thought repeatedly slips into my
mind - `the irony of fate.' I don't know whether it exists, but the
warning comes.
(We need to raise this question in the Ministry of Culture).
The President and those present are invited to an Armenian sacred
music concert in San Marco Cathedral of Venice.
Music fills the walls of the cathedral, as if flowing not only through
our ears. It's OK if I repeat it once again... it's not excessive to
say.
The next day Yerevan and Venice are declared sister cities.
We are at the airport. We are being checked thoroughly.
`Checking is the right thing,' a security officer says loudly, yet
without correcting anyone.
`Writing is the right thing,' I am thinking and beginning to write on
the plane already.
While the plane is approaching Armenia, the notion of community, which
was obvious and understandable in Italy, begins to separate. The
Armenian delegation and journalists are acquiring their names -
minister, mayor, spokesman... TVs, Panorama.am.
No more Italian essays. Beginning tomorrow - dry journalism and
journalistic routine; a question to the Minister of Culture; an
interview with the Mayor of Yerevan...