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THE ARMENIAN SIDE OF CHER
By Tom Vartabedian
The Armenian Weekly
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Say what you want about Kim Kardashian and the other sisters. But
for my money, Cher continues to be my dream girl. Always was. Always
will be.
Not that I have a love affair with the woman. An infatuation for
beauty and talent mixed is more like it. And durability. To continue
going this strong in Hollywood and Las Vegas at the ripe age of 64
probably takes a lot of makeup but more passion for the entertainment
world. She's still a class act, a true Armenian American icon.
That is why I shall be in her corner come Academy Awards time. If she
doesn't get an Oscar nomination for her role in the current production
of "Burlesque," I shall cancel my subscription to Hollywood Magazine
and demand an investigation.
Her role as the club owner and den mother to a host of showgirls is
truly impeccable. I marveled at her Academy Award-winning performance
in "Moonstruck." And I found her just as remarkable in such other
films as "Mask," "Witches of Eastwick," "Tea with Mussolini," and
"Silkwood," which earned her an Oscar nomination.
Here's what one critic has to say about this present campy musical.
"It takes a legend to make a star. Without Cher, 'Burlesque' wouldn't
work."
The musical side is just as impressive, going back to the TV days
of Sonny Bono. She's sold more than 100 million records. Her concert
tours are still sold-out. In truth, Cher knows no hiatus.
Though I'm a tad older than Cher, she was always the one I would
showcase whenever outsiders asked me to identify any prominent
Armenians.
"Well, you know Cher," I would respond, calling to mind her given name,
Cherilyn Sarkisian.
"No kidding, Cher's Armenian?" they would reply. "I had no idea."
The year was 1985, precisely 25 years ago. I was a well-groomed
journalist for the Haverhill Gazette and was notified that Cher
would be receiving the coveted Hasty Pudding Award given at Harvard
University as Female Actress of the Year.
I talked my editor into going to Cambridge and covering the story,
despite some resistance. He saw no local connection to the event so
I drummed up an alibi.
"She happens to be a friend of mine," I told him. "Can get a personal
story and beat the other Boston papers."
In some ways, that wasn't far from the truth, given the ideology that
all Armenians happen to be related through ethnicity. To be meeting
Cher for the first time was indeed a revelation.
There she was, as glamorous as ever, in the back seat of a Mercedes
convertible with the top down, waving to fans in a motorcade through
Harvard Square. I waved, too, but she didn't see me.
It wasn't until we had adjourned to an auditorium when a more formal
introduction occurred. I cornered her press agent and told the woman I
was Armenian like Cher and would like a word with her. She obliged me.
"Eench bes es?" I said, offering an ethnic greeting.
It was then that Cher bowled me over with a perfectly controlled
dialect of Armenian that totally caught me off guard. The woman knew
her language and was relatively fluid, obviously getting it from her
dad's side. What I learned about John Sarkisian was that he drove
a truck, gambled, and had spent time in prison. It was not the best
relationship for an adolescent.
I also quickly discovered other Armenians in the crowd who also
began exercising their native language. Cher had a definite Armenian
following that afternoon and she didn't disappoint when it came to
her culture and heritage.
There was noticeable pride etched across her face which complemented
her smile. What's more, I figured if I was going to get the inside
scoop on this starlight, I had better keep talking Armenian.
"What'd she say?" my competition wondered. "What kind of language is
she speaking? Hey, that's not fair."
Well, sir, you should have been born an Armenian and perhaps you could
have gained her better side in this interview, I snickered to myself.
In the end, I came away with a story none of the other papers could
match. Even my editors were amazed.
It's no secret that Cher has reached out to the indigent of Armenia
over her prominent career. And no wonder that she has shown a distinct
charitable side in supporting people of her kind in this country.
Even today, when people ask me, "Armenian? What's that?" I can still
reply after all these years, "You want to know what Armenian is? Go
ask Cher!"
Like her hit song, "The beat goes on!"
By Tom Vartabedian
The Armenian Weekly
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Say what you want about Kim Kardashian and the other sisters. But
for my money, Cher continues to be my dream girl. Always was. Always
will be.
Not that I have a love affair with the woman. An infatuation for
beauty and talent mixed is more like it. And durability. To continue
going this strong in Hollywood and Las Vegas at the ripe age of 64
probably takes a lot of makeup but more passion for the entertainment
world. She's still a class act, a true Armenian American icon.
That is why I shall be in her corner come Academy Awards time. If she
doesn't get an Oscar nomination for her role in the current production
of "Burlesque," I shall cancel my subscription to Hollywood Magazine
and demand an investigation.
Her role as the club owner and den mother to a host of showgirls is
truly impeccable. I marveled at her Academy Award-winning performance
in "Moonstruck." And I found her just as remarkable in such other
films as "Mask," "Witches of Eastwick," "Tea with Mussolini," and
"Silkwood," which earned her an Oscar nomination.
Here's what one critic has to say about this present campy musical.
"It takes a legend to make a star. Without Cher, 'Burlesque' wouldn't
work."
The musical side is just as impressive, going back to the TV days
of Sonny Bono. She's sold more than 100 million records. Her concert
tours are still sold-out. In truth, Cher knows no hiatus.
Though I'm a tad older than Cher, she was always the one I would
showcase whenever outsiders asked me to identify any prominent
Armenians.
"Well, you know Cher," I would respond, calling to mind her given name,
Cherilyn Sarkisian.
"No kidding, Cher's Armenian?" they would reply. "I had no idea."
The year was 1985, precisely 25 years ago. I was a well-groomed
journalist for the Haverhill Gazette and was notified that Cher
would be receiving the coveted Hasty Pudding Award given at Harvard
University as Female Actress of the Year.
I talked my editor into going to Cambridge and covering the story,
despite some resistance. He saw no local connection to the event so
I drummed up an alibi.
"She happens to be a friend of mine," I told him. "Can get a personal
story and beat the other Boston papers."
In some ways, that wasn't far from the truth, given the ideology that
all Armenians happen to be related through ethnicity. To be meeting
Cher for the first time was indeed a revelation.
There she was, as glamorous as ever, in the back seat of a Mercedes
convertible with the top down, waving to fans in a motorcade through
Harvard Square. I waved, too, but she didn't see me.
It wasn't until we had adjourned to an auditorium when a more formal
introduction occurred. I cornered her press agent and told the woman I
was Armenian like Cher and would like a word with her. She obliged me.
"Eench bes es?" I said, offering an ethnic greeting.
It was then that Cher bowled me over with a perfectly controlled
dialect of Armenian that totally caught me off guard. The woman knew
her language and was relatively fluid, obviously getting it from her
dad's side. What I learned about John Sarkisian was that he drove
a truck, gambled, and had spent time in prison. It was not the best
relationship for an adolescent.
I also quickly discovered other Armenians in the crowd who also
began exercising their native language. Cher had a definite Armenian
following that afternoon and she didn't disappoint when it came to
her culture and heritage.
There was noticeable pride etched across her face which complemented
her smile. What's more, I figured if I was going to get the inside
scoop on this starlight, I had better keep talking Armenian.
"What'd she say?" my competition wondered. "What kind of language is
she speaking? Hey, that's not fair."
Well, sir, you should have been born an Armenian and perhaps you could
have gained her better side in this interview, I snickered to myself.
In the end, I came away with a story none of the other papers could
match. Even my editors were amazed.
It's no secret that Cher has reached out to the indigent of Armenia
over her prominent career. And no wonder that she has shown a distinct
charitable side in supporting people of her kind in this country.
Even today, when people ask me, "Armenian? What's that?" I can still
reply after all these years, "You want to know what Armenian is? Go
ask Cher!"
Like her hit song, "The beat goes on!"