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POWERFUL PHOTOS DIG INTO TURKEY'S TABOO HISTORY OF THE ARMENIAN GENOCIDE
16:37 28.05.2014
Kathryn Cook's Memory of Trees tells a complicated and moving story
of the Armenian genocide through a visceral and broadly visual survey
of the people and places that were, and still are, affected by the
tragic events of a century ago, reads an article published by the Wired
Magazine.[http://www.wired.com/2014/05/kathryn-cook-memory-of-trees/#slide-id-946931]
"I hope that it presents a unique way of looking at the issue," she
says. "I think photography perhaps is one of the only ways to keep
exploring the story because it leaves room for interpretation and
can capture some of the pieces that people haven't already heard."
The article notes that "historians peg the start of the genocide as
April 24, 1915, when the government arrested more than 200 Armenian
community leaders in Constantinople. Some 1.5 million Armenians
were killed as the Ottoman Empire crumbled and what is now Turkey
took shape."
Cook was drawn to the story shortly after moving to Turkey in 2006
and seeing how the issue of Armenian identity and history bubbled
under surface. She decided to explore the issue through photography
after Hrant Dink, a Turkish journalist of Armenian descent, was
assassinated because of his outspoken views on Armenian identity. His
death helped prompt a growing social movement to address the Armenian
plight in Turkey.
"I photographed the funeral, and from there things just took off,"
she says.
Cook started photographing sites throughout Turkey linked to
the Armenian community-churches, monasteries, and other Armenian
buildings that were destroyed or left to crumble from neglect. For
her, these structures represented disappearance and erasure. To this
day, the Turkish government disputes the notion that Armenians were
systematically targeted, but these destroyed buildings seemed to
say otherwise.
What broke the story open for Cook was her visiting the small village
of Agaclı in southeastern Turkey. She happened upon the village
after reading about the mayor's decision to resurrect the Armenian
tradition of weaving headscarves from the cocoons of silk worms. The
scarves and silk cultivation had become an important source of income
for the community, and Cook was fascinated that the tradition had
been revived-and in a Kurdish community. "It was exactly the kind
of work I wanted to dive into because it was on the human level,"
she says. "It was this subtle way of remembering and celebrating the
legacy of a people and a very charged topic."
Over time, Cook took half a dozen trips to Agaclı and got to know the
community well. The name of her book comes from the name of the town,
which means "place of trees." As she spent more time in the town,
her connections grew and she met more and more people willing to be
photographed. The project still unfolded slowly, but she'd finally
found a way into the Armenian communities. "I just had to be patient,"
she says.
Cook also traveled the well-known routes along which Armenians were
forcibly evacuated during the genocide. She visited locations in
the Syrian desert, for example, where men, women and children were
prodded along death marches toward concentration camps. She also
went out into the Black Sea and made pictures where boats full of
Armenians were purposely sunk. Without knowing the historical context
or the significance of the location, many of Cook's photos can be
hard to read. But as viewers come to know the story, her seemingly
abstract approach makes sense. Many of the photos seem overly vacant,
for example, but that's intentional, because so much of the story is
about absence.
"In this context, the emptiness means something," she says. "It's
sort of like everything that's not said, speaks."
Cook spent seven years on Memory of Trees and says she could have
kept going for many more. But she felt the work needed to be seen. The
timing of the book also coincides with what continues to be a growing
movement in Turkey of people demanding justice for ethnic Armenians
and others who face discrimination.
"I think a new national narrative is slowly starting to get written,"
she says. "And hopefully the work plays a part in exploring this
change."
http://www.armradio.am/en/2014/05/28/powerful-photos-dig-into-turkeys-taboo-history-of-the-armenian-genocide/
From: A. Papazian
16:37 28.05.2014
Kathryn Cook's Memory of Trees tells a complicated and moving story
of the Armenian genocide through a visceral and broadly visual survey
of the people and places that were, and still are, affected by the
tragic events of a century ago, reads an article published by the Wired
Magazine.[http://www.wired.com/2014/05/kathryn-cook-memory-of-trees/#slide-id-946931]
"I hope that it presents a unique way of looking at the issue," she
says. "I think photography perhaps is one of the only ways to keep
exploring the story because it leaves room for interpretation and
can capture some of the pieces that people haven't already heard."
The article notes that "historians peg the start of the genocide as
April 24, 1915, when the government arrested more than 200 Armenian
community leaders in Constantinople. Some 1.5 million Armenians
were killed as the Ottoman Empire crumbled and what is now Turkey
took shape."
Cook was drawn to the story shortly after moving to Turkey in 2006
and seeing how the issue of Armenian identity and history bubbled
under surface. She decided to explore the issue through photography
after Hrant Dink, a Turkish journalist of Armenian descent, was
assassinated because of his outspoken views on Armenian identity. His
death helped prompt a growing social movement to address the Armenian
plight in Turkey.
"I photographed the funeral, and from there things just took off,"
she says.
Cook started photographing sites throughout Turkey linked to
the Armenian community-churches, monasteries, and other Armenian
buildings that were destroyed or left to crumble from neglect. For
her, these structures represented disappearance and erasure. To this
day, the Turkish government disputes the notion that Armenians were
systematically targeted, but these destroyed buildings seemed to
say otherwise.
What broke the story open for Cook was her visiting the small village
of Agaclı in southeastern Turkey. She happened upon the village
after reading about the mayor's decision to resurrect the Armenian
tradition of weaving headscarves from the cocoons of silk worms. The
scarves and silk cultivation had become an important source of income
for the community, and Cook was fascinated that the tradition had
been revived-and in a Kurdish community. "It was exactly the kind
of work I wanted to dive into because it was on the human level,"
she says. "It was this subtle way of remembering and celebrating the
legacy of a people and a very charged topic."
Over time, Cook took half a dozen trips to Agaclı and got to know the
community well. The name of her book comes from the name of the town,
which means "place of trees." As she spent more time in the town,
her connections grew and she met more and more people willing to be
photographed. The project still unfolded slowly, but she'd finally
found a way into the Armenian communities. "I just had to be patient,"
she says.
Cook also traveled the well-known routes along which Armenians were
forcibly evacuated during the genocide. She visited locations in
the Syrian desert, for example, where men, women and children were
prodded along death marches toward concentration camps. She also
went out into the Black Sea and made pictures where boats full of
Armenians were purposely sunk. Without knowing the historical context
or the significance of the location, many of Cook's photos can be
hard to read. But as viewers come to know the story, her seemingly
abstract approach makes sense. Many of the photos seem overly vacant,
for example, but that's intentional, because so much of the story is
about absence.
"In this context, the emptiness means something," she says. "It's
sort of like everything that's not said, speaks."
Cook spent seven years on Memory of Trees and says she could have
kept going for many more. But she felt the work needed to be seen. The
timing of the book also coincides with what continues to be a growing
movement in Turkey of people demanding justice for ethnic Armenians
and others who face discrimination.
"I think a new national narrative is slowly starting to get written,"
she says. "And hopefully the work plays a part in exploring this
change."
http://www.armradio.am/en/2014/05/28/powerful-photos-dig-into-turkeys-taboo-history-of-the-armenian-genocide/
From: A. Papazian