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THE MAN FROM VOSBURAGAN: VOSDANIG MANOUG ADOIAN - ARSHILE GORKY
by Betty Apigian-Kessel
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/08/01/the-man-from-vosburagan-vosdanig-manoug-adoian-arshile-gorky/
August 1, 2012
He was a handsome figure of a man, 6'4" with thick black hair, dark,
mesmerizing eyes, who loved to sing and dance-a throwback to his
Armenian cultural roots in Vosburagan. Painting was the food of his
existence. He lived and breathed for it from the time he was young.
Vosdanig Manoug Adoian's decision to change his name to Arshile Gorky
could have been to avoid the sorrow thrust upon him by the Armenian
Genocide of 1915 in his native Van, or because it would be easier
to remember.
His niece Azadouhie Amerian Miller says, "His relatives did not mind
his name change because we did not know he would become so famous. His
birth name would have been a difficult one to carry on as an artist."
Often for survival's sake, he would sell his art for $25, $50, or
$500, or even give them away to admirers, saying, "Someday this will
be very valuable."
His paintings now hang in noted museums, and command hundreds of
thousands of dollars at auctions.
In the end the artist who became famous for his surrealism style of
painting was overcome with despair and disappointment, driving him
to take his own life at age 48.
Many of his prized paintings were destroyed by fire in his Connecticut
studio, others in an airplane crash on their way to an exhibit in
California.
He was often the victim of serious illness, unfaithfulness from his
American socialite wife, and estranged from his beloved daughters
Maro and Natasha. How much tragedy should one person endure?
Even the artist crowd that he embraced was fickle in its friendship
with him, acknowledging his genius but also jealous of it.
The fate of good fortune had turned their back on Arshile Gorky. Make
no mistake, he was the son of Armenia, where he had witnessed the
horrors of the genocide. His father had left for America many years
prior to 1915. Arshile Gorky and his mother had to fend for themselves,
leaving him with a feeling of abandonment and dislike for his father.
Gorky's bond with his devoted mother was close and everlasting.
Together they suffered the torture and discomforts of the genocide.
She later died of starvation.
His early years growing up in his native Van had been idyllic. In
his village of Khorkom, Gorky was surrounded by the abundant gifts
of nature, fruitful orchards with pears and apples, majestic mountain
backdrops, wheat fields, and the blue of Lake Van. All this remained
as vivid, colorful memories-later transcribed to his vibrant paintings,
beginning with the figurative, later surrealism.
The irregular shapes on his canvasses, too, were exaggerations of
forms surrounding him in Van, developed by his artist's eye. Van was
his heart, where his artistic soul was born and nourished.
His dark brooding eyes, handsome Armenian face, and extraordinary
height on the cover of the book about his life seem to follow me as
I walk around the room. Had I lived during that period I surely would
have been drawn with infatuation to Vosdanig Adoian. His charm seemed
like a magnate.
I dare to say, who but an Armenian woman would understand an Armenian
man? Love leads us into unchartered waters where we either sink
or swim.
In a recent Los Angles Film Festival screening of the documentary
"Without Gorky," directed by his granddaughter Cosima Spender, she
interviews his widow (her grandmother), her mother, and aunt. The
documentary resonates with the profound tension and lingering
discomfort his death by suicide caused and still produces so many
years after.
The artistic soul, the creativity Gorky placed on his highest quality
of canvases, thick with layers of expensive paints, were a testament
to his life in Van, Historic Armenia.
If it is true that Armenians yearn for their souls to return to the
Ararat homeland, then surely our Vosdanig Manoug Adoian has finally
found peace. If you listen carefully you may even hear him uttering
"Akh-Tamar."
Correction: In a recent column entitled "Cheerleaders for Hayastan,"
"P.S." did not stand for "Post script" but were the initials of another
cheerleading Armenian featured in the column who resides in Canada.
by Betty Apigian-Kessel
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/08/01/the-man-from-vosburagan-vosdanig-manoug-adoian-arshile-gorky/
August 1, 2012
He was a handsome figure of a man, 6'4" with thick black hair, dark,
mesmerizing eyes, who loved to sing and dance-a throwback to his
Armenian cultural roots in Vosburagan. Painting was the food of his
existence. He lived and breathed for it from the time he was young.
Vosdanig Manoug Adoian's decision to change his name to Arshile Gorky
could have been to avoid the sorrow thrust upon him by the Armenian
Genocide of 1915 in his native Van, or because it would be easier
to remember.
His niece Azadouhie Amerian Miller says, "His relatives did not mind
his name change because we did not know he would become so famous. His
birth name would have been a difficult one to carry on as an artist."
Often for survival's sake, he would sell his art for $25, $50, or
$500, or even give them away to admirers, saying, "Someday this will
be very valuable."
His paintings now hang in noted museums, and command hundreds of
thousands of dollars at auctions.
In the end the artist who became famous for his surrealism style of
painting was overcome with despair and disappointment, driving him
to take his own life at age 48.
Many of his prized paintings were destroyed by fire in his Connecticut
studio, others in an airplane crash on their way to an exhibit in
California.
He was often the victim of serious illness, unfaithfulness from his
American socialite wife, and estranged from his beloved daughters
Maro and Natasha. How much tragedy should one person endure?
Even the artist crowd that he embraced was fickle in its friendship
with him, acknowledging his genius but also jealous of it.
The fate of good fortune had turned their back on Arshile Gorky. Make
no mistake, he was the son of Armenia, where he had witnessed the
horrors of the genocide. His father had left for America many years
prior to 1915. Arshile Gorky and his mother had to fend for themselves,
leaving him with a feeling of abandonment and dislike for his father.
Gorky's bond with his devoted mother was close and everlasting.
Together they suffered the torture and discomforts of the genocide.
She later died of starvation.
His early years growing up in his native Van had been idyllic. In
his village of Khorkom, Gorky was surrounded by the abundant gifts
of nature, fruitful orchards with pears and apples, majestic mountain
backdrops, wheat fields, and the blue of Lake Van. All this remained
as vivid, colorful memories-later transcribed to his vibrant paintings,
beginning with the figurative, later surrealism.
The irregular shapes on his canvasses, too, were exaggerations of
forms surrounding him in Van, developed by his artist's eye. Van was
his heart, where his artistic soul was born and nourished.
His dark brooding eyes, handsome Armenian face, and extraordinary
height on the cover of the book about his life seem to follow me as
I walk around the room. Had I lived during that period I surely would
have been drawn with infatuation to Vosdanig Adoian. His charm seemed
like a magnate.
I dare to say, who but an Armenian woman would understand an Armenian
man? Love leads us into unchartered waters where we either sink
or swim.
In a recent Los Angles Film Festival screening of the documentary
"Without Gorky," directed by his granddaughter Cosima Spender, she
interviews his widow (her grandmother), her mother, and aunt. The
documentary resonates with the profound tension and lingering
discomfort his death by suicide caused and still produces so many
years after.
The artistic soul, the creativity Gorky placed on his highest quality
of canvases, thick with layers of expensive paints, were a testament
to his life in Van, Historic Armenia.
If it is true that Armenians yearn for their souls to return to the
Ararat homeland, then surely our Vosdanig Manoug Adoian has finally
found peace. If you listen carefully you may even hear him uttering
"Akh-Tamar."
Correction: In a recent column entitled "Cheerleaders for Hayastan,"
"P.S." did not stand for "Post script" but were the initials of another
cheerleading Armenian featured in the column who resides in Canada.