An American Dramaturg in Armenia

They Saved Lenin's Brain

2006-04-04T20:13:00.000+05:00

This is one of my husband's favorite images in Yerevan. A huge statue of Vladimir Lenin's head sits on the floor in the corner of the post office on Sarian Street. We think that this is the head from the statue of Lenin that used to stand in the middle of Repbulic Square.

Basment Theatre

2006-03-27T21:24:00.000+05:00

Lift Operator (c) 2005, Basement Theatre

Below is a link to the Basement Theatre Website (in English, Russian and Georgian)
http://www.sardapi.com/presa_eng.php

Georgian Theatre Blackout

2006-03-27T20:04:00.000+05:00

On January 26th, 2006, I set off from Yerevan to Tbilisi. My mission was to see Georgian theatre upfront and personal.

A heavy snowstorm in the Caucasus made the prospects for the trip iffy. Popular sentiment was that I would be unwise to take a marshrutka (minibus) to Georgia because the roads would be terrible. I decided to risk the train. Theoretically, the train would leave Yerevan at 7pm and get me into Tbilisi bright and early at 9am. I reserved a "lux" berth and planned to sleep the night away in comfort. So much for my plans. The train left 2 hours late for no clear reason and arrived 5 hours late with no explanation. My berth was comfy but was also occupied by a "businessman" who grew increasingly inebriated as the trip went on, finally passing out as we arrived in Tbilisi.

Still, Tbilisi is an exciting place and shortly after I arrived, Tina from the Basement Theatre came to pick me up at my hotel and took me on a guided walking tour of theatricial Tbilisi. I was in heaven. The power had been cut off in most of Georgia because of a terrorist? planned? government-ordered? bombing of major electrical lines just over the border in Russia. Still, downtown Tbilisi had power and a festive mood prevailed. Tbilisi had just gotten its first major snow fall in 30 years. The streets were full of laughing children on sleds.

The highlights of my tour were getting to see the offices and backstage areas of the progressive Basement Theatre and the newly and fabulously renovated Marjanishvili theatre. At the end of our tour, Tina and I were joined by Eka, the managing director of both the Marjanishvili and the Basement Theatres, and the three of us went out to eat a gossipy dinner at a packed and freezing restaurant (which had no power).

Still, I couldn't wait until I actually got to see some Georgian Theatre. Eka and Tina arranged for me to have tickets the next day to a new play reading in the afternoon and the Basement Theatre's production of LIFT OPERATOR in the evening. The play reading was in Georgian but Tina provided me with a translation in Russian so I could basically follow what was happening. The main thing I noticed was that one actor was funny and one was not. But a reading is not theatre.

The evening of the 27th I waited impatiently for LIFT OPERATOR to start. Already, I was planning the review I would write for some unidentified journal. The theatre was filled with adults and children. The house lights went to half and a hush fell over the audience. According to the English-language synopsis I was handed when I came in, the play was about a pregnant woman who worked as an elevator operator. The set consisted of a small box, about the size of an elevator. I knew from a review I had read that the elevator passengers were played by human-size puppets or effigies. Curiously, the program listed a choreographer. I was confident I was in for an interesting evening. The house lights went from half to total darkness. "Wow, how bold!" I thought, "That's very dramatic." The lights stayed in total blackout for five minutes, and then ten minutes, and then fifteen minutes. The house manager came to the front of the stage with a flashlight and made an announcement (in Georgian). A few minutes later, she came to find me in the audience to tell me that the power was out but that they were hoping it would be back on soon. She then lit some candles and set them around the theatre. I sat with the audience for an hour in the darkness. My fellow audience members laughed, joked, text-messaged each other and, in general, did their best to enjoy their evening out. I was shocked at their good humor but I guess in Georgia, where anything can and has happened and electricity is great when it works and optional when it doesn't, this was a common night in the theatre.

An hour after the lights went out, the show was cancelled and the audience reluctantly went home to their darkened houses. I travelled by taxi through the dark streets to my brightly lit international hotel, which shown like a beacon in the dark city. Eka and Tina had begged me to stay an extra day in Tbilisi in the hopes that lights would come back on and I could actually see some theatre but I needed to get back to Yerevan.

As I snuggled deep in my comfy hotel bed that night, I reflected on all the other disastrous nights I had spent in theatres over the last twenty years--dreadfully boring plays, audience members passing out, actors injuring themselves on stage, toilets flooding, etc.-- and decided that this night may have been disastrous but the good naturedness of the audience made it also curiously pleasant and uplifting.

Travelling to Georgia

2006-02-10T17:35:00.000+04:00

If you are living in Armenia and you want to visit another country without resorting to flying, you have two choices--you can travel north to Georgia or south to Iran. Travel to Iran with its world-class city, ski resorts and wealth of historic sites conjuring up Ancient Persia tempts. But for the casual American traveller, Iran holds the promise more of danger than of simple pleasure.
Georgia, Armenia's kissing cousin, presents a more likely vacation destination, a less abrupt change of worlds. Linked by the Caucasus mountains, a shared history, and the Russian language, the Georgians and the Armenians have become flip sides of the same coin. The southern cousin Armenia, to its cultural detriment, is quite amazingly ethnically homogenous. The northern cousin, Georgia, to its political and economic detriment, is ethnically diverse. Georgia's capital Tbilisi--charming, cosy, historically rich, alp-like--perches on the cliffs and banks of a scenic river. Armenia's capital Yerevan bustles with modern energy, constantly challenging itself to become ever more cosmopolitan.

The route between the two capitals is slow and hazardous, particularly in winter. The main road connecting Yerevan and Tbilisi is a winding, two-lane, black top which weaves its way up and down the peaks and valleys of the Southern Caucasus. Snowfall is frequent, snowplows less common than mountain goats, and public rest stops unheard of. A train runs between the two cities once a day but, for unknown reasons, it stretches the 5-7 hour car drive out to 14-20 hours. The train compartments are snug but the restaurant car serves only vodka, beer and coffee.

Any trip between Yerevan and Tbilisi may be further complicated by violent unrest in Georgia which results from time to time in skirmishes, kidnappings and power outages. Public officials on boths of the border demand bribes from randomly selected travellers. But every journey also holds the promise of being lightened by the great friendliness, generosity and inquisitiveness of the Georgian and Armenian people. The bathrooms along the way may be filthy or holes in the ground, but the food will be tasty, the laughter will be frequent and the good wishes and blessings many.

Once, when travelling through western Europe with a friend, he said that Europe reminded him of a well-laid out amusement park. Everything was so cute, clean, and toy-like. You could go from "France-land" to "Switzerland-land" to "Germany-land" on fun, brightly-colored trains, eat tasty, high-fat and expensive snacks, and buy tacky souvenirs mass-produced in China, all the while speaking English and walking past McDonalds, Burger Kings, and Starbucks.

Armenia and Georgia would not be in that amusement park. They are still rough enough, unique enough and remote enough to retain their own authenticity, their own reality, one unlikely to be duplicated by consumer culture in this experience economy.

Party pieces, recitations and other public performances

2006-01-10T22:24:00.000+04:00

When I first arrived in Armenia, I was informed by my fellow professors that Armenians were an oral culture, that students were much more accustomed to public speaking than they were to essay writing. Always one to jump the gun, I immediately assigned my students all sorts of ex tempore speaking assignments. Where normally I might give a quiz, I instead assigned a presentation. My students, startled, valiantly attempted to meet my expectations and did quite well. But it was clear that they were not accustomed to presenting fledgling ideas in public. I couldn't figure out what I had done wrong.

It wasn't until the Christmas season that I realized my error. From a very early age, Armenian children are expected to recite and sing in public. Every child over the age of four has several pieces memorized that he or she can recite flawlessly whenever the situation demands a party piece. At birthday parties, school events, family gatherings, children are expected to give recitations and sing songs.

I first witnessed this at a puppet theatre where, before the performance began, children leapt up on stage and recited poems and, adorably off tune, sang songs. I misunderstood and thought this was some sort of special occasion. It was not. Since then, I have been treated to innumerable sweet, lisping performances at every sort of public gathering.

Armenians are oral, yes, ex tempora, no. Doubtlessly, if I had given my students a chance to prepare and mermorize, they would have soared. And they would have completely enjoyed themselves. But because, as an American, I have difficulty memorizing my phone number but could talk in public about nothing for quite a while, it never occured to me.

Death masks in Gyumri

2006-01-06T11:53:00.000+04:00

Armenia's second largest city is Gyumri. Located on the Turkish border ,within sight of the ancient Armenian center of Ani, the city was devastated 16 years ago by a major earthquake. Today, thanks to international efforts, it has largely been rebuilt. It is now a town of wide boulevards, stylish new apartment buildings and a well-kept historic district.

People from Gyumri are known for their artistry and (often grim) sense of humor. One example of the two is the S. Merkurov house museum which celebrates the work of the Soviet-era Armenian sculptor. The bulk of the museum is dedicated to casts of the wax death masques of famous people. Merkurov used the masques as a basis for many of his sculptures. I was intrigued by the death mask of Vladimir Mayakovsky (the author of the play THE BEDBUG and a suicide while in his thirties) in which he appeared to be healthy, happy and strangely beautiful. More gruesome was the death mask of a man who died of throat cancer.

Gyumri is also the hometown of famous Armenian folk comedian Poloz Mukuch. Apparently, whenever you say his name, you must tell three jokes or funny stories. We ate at a restaurant named in his honor and had a lively meal, filled with silliness.

Blog on contemporary Armenian Music

2006-01-06T11:41:00.000+04:00

The following is a link to a webpage/blog maintained by an Armenian American musician living in Yerevan. Sprinkled throughout the blog are interesting comments on and insights into the contemporary Armenian music scene.
http://road-to-armenia.com/scenes/journal1.html

The Anniversary Audience

2005-12-13T11:17:00.000+04:00

Yerevan State Institute of Cinematography and Theatre Anniversary Performance

2005-12-13T11:07:00.000+04:00

A preperformance puppet demonstration in the lobby of the school.

Students perform a national dance.

Performances by Armenian Theatre Students

2005-12-09T13:29:00.000+04:00

Although, as I said on an earlier post, theatre is in some ways its own nation, with traditions and codes that transcend geographic and cultural boundaries, it more closely resembles more a republic than a dictatorship. The member republics may be united by common goals and structures, but each has its individual idiosyncrasies, its quaint phrases and its surprising regional dishes.

For example, at the Theatre Institute where I teach, the students study movement, vocal production, diction, script analysis, dramatic literature, directing and acting (including the Stanislavski method) just as my students in US might. But they are also trained in mime, clowning, folk dance and song. Some students combine this training with the study of circus techniques. Graduates of the school go on to work in major theatres, in Armenian and Russian television, radio, and film, but they also regularly perform as folk (national or narodnii) dancers and some even go on to join the circus.

On Sunday, I went to an evening of student performances in honor of the 60th Anniversary of the State Institute of Cinematography and Theatre. In many ways, the performance was virtually indistinguishable (language aside) from the student performances I saw in the theatre departments at NYU, the University of Michigan, Catholic University and the University of Maryland in my years as a student and teacher. There were dramatic scenes, comedic scenes, skits, arias from operas, there was even a number from A Chorus Line. And like all of those performances, it went on way too long (deeply disturbing the dramaturg in me). But never before have I seen a theatre student twirl four rings of flame at the same time. Nor have I seen so many students--what seemed to be the majority of the student body--perform intricately choreographed folk dances.

Folk dance is clearly a national obsession in Armenia in a way that someone from a heterogeneous culture like that of the United States finds difficult to absorb. It is taught to school children, occurs spontaneously at many social gatherings, forms a major or minor part of most events and public performances and is frequently seen on television. Almost everyone knows the basic dances and moves. Although one professional dancer I know claims its cultural dominance is being challenged by the undeniable popularity of Latin dance forms such as flamenco and samba, I doubt that. Armenian national folk dance seems here to stay.

Is there an American equivalent? The Chicken Dance? The Electric Slide (boogie, oogie, oogie)? Square dancing? Step competitions? I don't think so. Just as there is no single American culture, there is no single national dance. But it is becoming increasingly clear to me that although American has no single "folk" culture, there is great deal of homogeneity on the American stage.

More Birthday Scenes

2005-12-09T12:58:00.000+04:00

School children recite a birthday greeting.

Sos Sargsian present Gevorgyants with a painting.

Dancers swirl about in flurry of quick foot movements and energized vocalizations.

The Birthday Boy participates in a skit with good humor.

Will the real Ruben Gevorgyants please sit down?

2005-12-02T16:43:00.000+04:00

Armen Elbakyan, the director of the Elbakayan State Marionette Theatre presents Ruben Gevorgyants with his marionette double.

Reuben Gevorgyants' Gala Birthday

2005-12-02T16:16:00.000+04:00

In the last few months, I have been to many theatre events here in Yerevan but on Wednesday I went to my first film-related event. Reluctantly, I must admit that film people in Yerevan are way cooler than theatre people. The standard theatre crowd is, in general, stunningly conservative in dress. The men, their hair tightly cropped, wear suits or dress in black from head to toe. Almost universally, the women are impecably groomed, have long, beautiful hair, and totter around on high-heeled, pointy-toed shoes.

In contrast, the film world is full of color and variety. The women wear skirts of many patterns and lengths, boots and shoes of every desciption, and sport imaginative hairstyles in a variety of colors. The men have long hair, short hair, are clean shaven or bearded and, generally, seem oblivious to the world of black clothing.

And where do the film people hang out? In this instance, they were at a gala celebration of film director Ruben Gevorgyants' birthday. The event was held at the Cinema House, a large film theatre which Gevorgyants has run for the last 16 years. I was invited because my son took part in a special recitation by school children in honor of Mr. Gevorgyants.

The party was a cross between a roast and a variety show, with singers, musicians, actors and comedians performing in honor of the birthday boy. Even Sos Sargsian, the actor/director/painter/nationalist/political activist who heads the institute where I teach, was there.

There were many amusing tidbits scattered throughout the evening, such as a very silly skit involving a quilt and disappearing and reappearing characters in narodnii costumes, or the all-Armenian impression of George W. Bush, and expecially the presentation of a marionette portrait of Gevorgyants. But my favorite thing was a documentary of Gevorgyants with his film students in which they travelled to the ancient temple of Garni and picked up trash.

After the performances, there was an amazing buffet in lobby--caviar, cheeses, dried fruits, a magnificent multi-tiered cake and, of course, Armenian wine. The lobby was a who's who in the Armenian performing arts world.

More and more sculpture

2005-11-22T12:25:00.000+04:00

A sculpture in the Hrazdan Gorge

2005-11-22T12:21:00.000+04:00

My kids call this sculpture "The Golf Player" (yes, it's all about you, Tiger Woods).

City as Sculpture Garden

2005-11-22T12:02:00.000+04:00

One of the truly unique things about Yerevan is the quantity and variety of public art, particularly sculpture. No matter where you go, you will see not one or two pieces, but whole gardens of sculpture. And although to a certain extent, the Hay take all this art for granted, everyone has their favoritie piece, one they have cherished since they first laid eyes on it or, even, since childhood.

Coming as I do from a town where the main form of public art is sculptures of dead white men on horseback, I revel in the variety of art in Yerevan.

A photo collection of these works would make a great coffee table book. There is no way I can post images on this blog capturing even a fraction of the sculpture. Instead, I am just putting up a few favorites that I see as I walk around town.

The red sculptures are made of tufa--the soft rock that is the primary builidng material of the area. Tufa is light and easy to carve, which makes it ideal for sculpture, but it is also surprisingly durable, allowing artworks to last centuries.

Performance of Armenian National Dance Company

2005-11-01T15:05:00.000+04:00

On Friday night I went to see the Armenian National Dance Company perform at the Opera Theatre. The Opera Theatre is a beautiful building, recently renovated. It is arguably the most famous building in Yerevan and has been lovingly restored to its 1930s glory.

The national dance troupe performs works using the dance idiom (movements, postures and gestures) of traditional Armenian folk dance. The performance I attended was freshly staged, with new choreography. The program was a mixture of heroic, romantic, patriotic and comedic pieces.

The company was quite large—I counted 16 men and 16 women in the corps de ballet with one male soloist and two female soloists. The performance was clean and exciting, well paced and well executed. The lighting was lovely.

One thing I loved about the costumes was that the women's outfits freqently included wigs with hip-long braids. For certain numbers, the braids were fastened at the waist to the front of the costumes so the braids wouldn't fly about and ruin the line of the movements. I've never seen that before.

Although the dancing was superb, my favorite performers were the musicians. The performance started with a drummer calling the dancers onstage. He then moved upstage right were a small orchestra of musicians playing traditional and modern instruments provided the music for the dancers.

Since coming to Yerevan, I have seen several dance and vocal performances accompanied by studio-produced taped backing tracks which gives a Karaoke-like feel to the evening. I like to see my karoke in bars, not onstage. Thus, I greatly appreciated the live music.

There were a number of non-Armenians in the audience. The entire row in front of me was filled with Brits and a Japanese couple with a tourist map was to my left. I've notied that many of the tourist brochures steer foreigners to music and dance performances.

Yerevan State Circus

2005-10-25T15:24:00.000+05:00

Photos: the outside of the circus building and one of the many hand painted posters used to advertise the show.

Yerevan, like many cities in the former Soviet Union, has a permanent, year-round circus housed in a building dedicated to circus performances. The state has operated the circus from its beginnings but recently, a decision was made to privatize the Yerevan State Circus. Competing bids were received from the circus staff and an outside investor. I don't know which bid won.
The circus has struggle financially for years and the building, constructed in 1961, is in desperate need of a major renovation. But, if the performance I recently attended was any indication, there is a ready and willing audience for the circus (and for any performance aimed at children).
However, like many state-run performing arts institutions, the circus has a bloated staff and an underutilized facility. Without a substantial government subsidy, it will have to rethink its institutional mission and expand its offerings in order to survive.
I hope the circus doesn't just survive but thrives because there is something wonderful about a town with its own circus. The circus doesn't come to town. It is part of the town.

Chinese Circus in Yerevan

2005-10-25T15:07:00.000+05:00

Photos: Wildly enthusiastic school children wait for the circus to begin. In the second picture, an aeralist act involvinv bungee cords.

On Friday. October 21st, 2005, at 5 pm, I went to see a Chinese Circus perform with the Yerevan Circus at the Yerevan State Circus Building.

The Chinese Circus consisted of a troupe of about 12 very young and charming acrobats. I have seen many Chinese circus troupes but this is the first one that I have seen with a comic slant. Many of the acts were set within humorous story lines. In one, a contortionist act, a boy chased a girl with firecrackers and then they both got stuck in a giant firecracker in a variety of uncomfortable and unbelievable poses. In another, a young boy tried to join in the routine of a group of martial arts-esque tumblers and became the butt of their antics.

The acrobatic acts of the Chinese circus were supplemented by animal acts (dancing bear, trick ponies, etc.) from the Yerevan Circus.

The large and enthusiastic audience was made up primarily of school groups and young families with a healthy sprinkling of grandparents with grandchildren. The kids around me definitely enjoyed the performance. They also enjoyed the cotton candy, popcorn and fake noses they bought from vendors outside the building. It was one of the best performances for children I have seen in a long time and was just the right length.

Link to Yerevan Cultural Events Webpage

2005-10-19T10:51:00.000+05:00

http://www.aua.am/aua/faculty/events/stage.shtml

Some Beguiling Performers at the Yerevan Zoo

2005-10-15T23:37:00.000+05:00

This bear was very interested in my camera. I think she thought it was something especially tasty to eat.

Likidon, an NGO, that uses theater for childhood development

2005-10-07T15:49:00.000+05:00

Here is a link to an article in ArmeniaNow about a very interesting NGO in Gyumri that uses puppet theatre techniques for child development purposes.

http://www.armenianow.com/?action=viewArticle&AID=1109

Performing Arts Network Conference

2005-10-06T14:33:00.000+05:00

On Tuesday, October 1, 2005, I attended an international conference at Yerevan State Film and Theatre Institute. The purpose of the conference was to establish a South Caucusus - Central Asian Performing Arts Network (SCCAPAN).

The Network seeks to reestablish ties between performing arts communities in the Caucusus and Central Asia which were severed when the Soviet Union broke up. The Network will encourage communication, cooperation and collaboration between performing arts groups in each of the countries it represents.

In the first photo, VERONIKA NASALSKAYA from Art & Shock Experimental Theatre in Almaty, Kazakhstan, discusses the work of the Network. Other participants were NABI ABDURAKHMANOV from Uzbekistan, MARINA DAVYDOVA of the International Theatre Festival NET in Russia, and CONSTANTIN CHIRIAC of SIBIU InternationalTheatre Festial in Romania. The conference was chaired by ARTUR CHUKASYAN, president of HIGHFEST in Armenia.

Mihr Plastic Dance Theatre

2005-10-06T14:22:00.000+05:00

The square served as a great venue for this performance. It is in the center of the city and can accomodate a large crowd.

The columns at the back of the picture are the front of the Moscovskii Movie Theatre.

Mihr Plastic Dance Theatre at HighFest

2005-10-06T14:15:00.000+05:00

October 1, 2005 performance of Roots by the Mihr Plastic Dance Theatre of Armenia. The performance was in Charles Aznavour Square.

Roots is a dance theatre piece about the ancient gods of Armenia and the hieroglyphs they left behind when they vanished.

The opening ceremonies at HighFest

2005-09-30T10:14:00.000+05:00

Stage left: the flags of the various countries represented in the festival are tied to trees. This is an ancient Armenian custom, where if you tie a scarf or flag to a tree, you can make a wish.

Center stage: International Department Head Lilit Galustyan, General Producer Levon Abrahamyan, and Festival President Artur Ghukhasyan, welcome the packed house to the festival. A performance "Innocent Light" by a dance group from Singapore followed the opening ceremonies.
A goal of the festival is to establish Armenia as an important international venue for the performing arts.

Another view of the parade (September 28, 2005)

2005-09-30T10:11:00.000+05:00

A student parade in honor of HighFest

2005-09-30T10:08:00.000+05:00

Students from the Theatre Institute and other local colleges paraded from the Institute to the Sundukyan Theatre to publicize the festival. My son and I (along with other festival participants) followed them through the streets. The energy was incredible and the public reaction was pretty amusing.

first day of school in Yerevan

2005-09-27T15:52:00.000+05:00

Guess which are my children?

Virtually all the school children in Yerevan wear the same school uniforn--blue bottoms with a white shirt. Although my children are usually very resistant to wearing anything but sweat pants, they immediate agreed to wearing the uniform because it clearly identifies them as students in Yerevan. It makes them feel like they fit in (which is particularly important for my nine-year old).

Friday night at the multiplex?

2005-09-27T15:15:00.000+05:00

Groups of too cool for school teenaged boys scoping out girls; packs of girls, with protective moms nearby, giggling and eating candy; entire families, including toddlers and grandmas, ready for fun; and middle-aged couples on dates—all watching a petite ingénue causing mischief while a male heartthrob performs feats of athleticism and bravery. Is it Friday night at the local Armenian multiplex?

Nope. It’s Friday night, September 23, 2005, at the Hamazgayin Theatre. The production playing is The Romanticists. It's a comic story in which love awakens, is thwarted, and is finally fulfilled. The production is full of swooning, comic bits, sight gags and sword fights. The acting is youthful and energized and so is the audience.

The performance ends with a bang as the audience claps rhythmically and enthusiastically while the actors take multiple bows. At the last moment, a blushing young woman runs from the audience up on stage to give a bouquet of flowers to the male comic lead (whose performance was slightly reminiscent of Kevin Klein’s in Pirates of Penzance).

The Hamazgayin Theatre is fairly new by Yerevan standards (founded in 1991). Its programming combines children's plays with more serious drama. Because the theatre is attached to the State Institute of Cinema and theatre, it uses a combination of professional and student actors which contibutes to the feeling of energy.

The theatre itself has a very wide proscenium with a fairly shallow but raked audience area, seating maybe 350. The lighting was extremely simple. The set was more complicated--a series of wrought iron trees and walls with a fountain that turned on and off at key moments in the production. The costumes served as the most elaborate scenic element. They were vaguely period (the period perhaps 18th century fairy tale) and very tongue-in-cheek. Inexplicably but comically, the ingénue changed from one elaborate and silly ball gown to the next every time she left the stage.

The tickets were 500 AMD (about $1.25) which is insanely cheap even by Yerevan standards. A candy bar is 300 AMD. I caused a mini-ruckus because the smallest bill I had was 10,000 AMD (about $25) and the box office didn’t have any change. The theatre staff was so anxious that I see the play, however, that three different people searched their pockets for change.

Opening night at the monodrama festival

2005-09-13T14:11:00.000+05:00

The season of performing arts festivals has begun in Yerevan.

Last night I was invited to be a guest at the opening night of the ArmMono Shakespeare International One Man Show Festival (http://www.armmono.am ) Within weeks this festival will be followed by an international dance festival and HighFest (http://www.highfest.am ). The density of festivals at this time of year is, I believe, due to the glorious weather here in Yerevan. Even an un-airconditioned theatre is comfortable in the Autumn.

The opening night performance turned out to be not a solo performance at all but rather a performance by a company of three Armenian actors (two men and a woman). It qualified as a monodrama (I guess) because only one of actors was onstage at a time. The play, which was a meditation on Othello, was called The Handkerchief and, indeed, featured a multitude of handkerchiefs which ended up littering the stage. One large, silken handkerchief served as a backdrop.

I understood only a word here and there but was very taken with the performance and the theatre. The performance was at the Theatre for Young Spectators at 3 Moskoyan Street. The theatre accommodates several hundred audience members but felt quite intimate. It is a fan-shaped, proscenium-style theatre with a very high ceiling and stone walls. The seats are upholstered in velvet and very sharply raked so the sight lines and acoustics are excellent.

The intimacy of the space was increased by the size of the crowd, which was standing room only. In addition, there were three or four television crews in the audience. It was quite the event.

At the beginning of the performance, the producer of the Festival introduced all the performers. There are solo performers in the festival from Great Britain, France, Switzerland, Poland, the USA, Iran and Russia. But what most intrigued me was the presence of a performer from Turkmenistan. Who would have thought that in Armenia you could see an actor from Turkmenistan performing in a solo show about Shakespeare?

The Sovereign Republic of Theatre

2005-08-31T12:25:00.000+05:00

After all the planning and worry, I arrived in Armenia a few days ago. I was blasted with jet lag and spent a day or two in a dense fog of exhaustion. When I emerged, it was to glorious weather—hot, clear days and cool, windy nights. It is easy to understand why this time of year is called the “velvet season” here in Yerevan. As you walk up the Yerevan hills past all the buildings made of lovely rose-colored stone, the wind feels like velvet on your skin.

My hosts here have been wonderful. They have arranged housing, shown me where to shop, driven me around the city. I have had several meetings at the institute where I will teach theatre and am getting quite excited about working there.

Although in some ways the theatre institute feels very foreign, theatre is, in a way, its own country with its own rules, social customs and expectations. It is startling how similar it can be in vastly different countries. Once, when I was doing research in the Bakhrushin Archive in Moscow, I came across a list of rules for actors that had hung backstage in a theatre in St. Petersburg around 1905. I was temporarily startled because the rules were basically the same as those in any theatre in which I had worked in America. The main difference was that there was a rule forbidding the Russian actors from rehearsing on stage in their snow boots. I’ve never seen that rule in America but it seems to me a rule with which most American stage managers would agree.

So, in keeping with that idea, it was not surprising to see that many faculty and students at the institute were wearing black, the universal color for offstage wear. They were also more idiosyncratically dressed than the citizens at large. I think I will also find (if the institute is like other theatre departments in which I have taught) that the institute is full of charismatic personalities and everyone, on the whole, is loud.

The very universality of theatre, however, can be a kind of trap, leading you to believe that because some things are so similar, all things are similar. And they are not. The Sovereign Republic of Theatre is transnational but limited in its sphere of influence.

Culture vs. Geography

2005-07-24T03:56:00.000+05:00

In researching Armenian theatre, the split between geographic Armenia and cultural Armenia becomes increasingly clear. Armenian theatre historically flourished in the Armenian cultural centers of Constantinople, Tiflis and Baku--cities once encompassed by ancient Armenia.
However, Ancient Armenia ceased to exist over a thousand years ago and, lacking a georgraphic and political home of its own, Armenian culture prospered within other cultures. The Golden Age of Armenian Theatre took place in widespread Eurasian cities.

Today, Armenia exists not just as a people and a culture, but as a geopolitical entity, a country in its own right. 21st century Armenia was formed and its boundaries set by the Soviets early in the history of the USSR. Thus, politics and colonization have shifted the center of Armenian culture from cosmopolitan centers in Turkey, Georgia and Azerbaijan to the former silk road market town of Yerevan.

Although the USSR no longer exists and the Russians have withdrawn from Armenian, its legacy remains. In structure, the Yerevan theatre scene is more Russian than Armenian. But how does that effect content? How distinct is the art in Armenia from that created in other former Soviet republics? What indeed makes Armenian theatre specifically Armenian?

2005-07-17T00:28:00.000+05:00

An Armenian performance

Orientation

2005-07-16T06:23:00.000+05:00

Just got back from a three-day Fulbright orientation. It was a little overwhelming--I had no idea there were so many Fulbright scholars going to the the former Soviet States. The ballroom of the hotel was packed with eager academics, both young and old, who were nervous, intimidated and, at the same time, obviously proud of themselves for being there.

I was instantly aware I am a statistical outlier. Not only am I one of the few Fulbright scholars who is not a full-time academic, I am one of a miniscule number of scholars in the arts going to this region (why is that?). Furthermore, I am the only Fulbright scholar going to Armenia without a family connection to the country. Diasporan Armenians dominate the Armenia delegation.

But because I am not Armenian by blood, or married to or divorced from an Armenian, during the three days of the orientation I was repeatedly asked, "Why are you going to ARMENIA?" as if if were not enough to be a scholar and theatre practioner with international experience and an interest in the region. The implication was that without a deep pre-existing connection to Armenia, my interest was odd. Who other than an Armenian (or American of Armenian descent) would want to go there?

I don't remember this attitude ever coming up the two times I received fellowships to travel to Russia. Although I'm an American mongrel (AHMURIKAN), people assumed there were obvious reasons to be curious about Russian theatre and culture.

I wonder what this portends for the adventure ahead?