Armenia is a country without forest

Բնագիրը՝ «Հայաստանն անտառազորկ յէրկիր է» կցուած է ներքեւը

By Varujan Pambukhchyan

The attached is my abridged translation of Varujan Pambukhchyan’s recent posting on his Facebook page. Varujan is a native of Armenia and has his own distinctive style of narration and diction presenting a challenge to have it translated while remainng true to his distinct original text to the extent that is possible. I have attached the original piece in Armenian for scrutiny. I have known Varujan over the years as a man who is whole-heartedly devoted to Armenia. Vahe H. Apelian

Four years ago I researched about the forests in Armenia. The sources of my research made it evident that from Soviet years the most valuable  (native) trees such as Hajareni ¹and Gaghni ², growing in our forests, were being cut on a very large scale.

It is true that during the Soviet years extended forestation work was being done but even then the forests of Armenian were showing sign of being near to death. The thing is that the forest is a self-sustaining organism and everything is intimately tied together. From Soviet times, our forests already were losing their self-sustenance because, so to speak, the birthing and the dying process was forfeited in favor of the dying.

When the Artsakh movement started, the Baku-Tiflis-Yerevan railroad that brought to Armenia 75% of the goods from outside, was shut down. As an unavoidable outcome, the massive importation of timber from Russia ended.

When the Artsakh movement became Artsakh war and the encirclement became a reality, the real massacre, slaughter, butchery, and genocide (of the forests) started that continued to this day. 

As to how many Armenian sounding high placed officials from Akhalkalak, Lori, and  Artsakh, at the expense of the day by day dying forests, became millionaires, multimillionaires (of course in dollar and euro), let that remain on their conscience because I am not convinced that they should be punished.  I would only advise these people that, at the expense of the annihilation of the country’s nature and filling up their guts with money, not to give speeches about “ selfless dedication”, of “United Armenia” and things like that.

Sixty (60) years are needed to have a viable forest that is self-sustaining. For the country to be deemed to be a normal expanse, 50 (fifty) percent of the country must be forested. Our neighbor Georgia is 37% forested.

Of course, Prime Minister Pashinyan is right when he prevented the cutting down of the forests. Of course, those who raised their voices objecting were political partisans or were naïve…

Preventing (cutting down) is vital because according to official sources eight percent of our country is forested, as I said, it is devoid of being self-sustaining. However before preventing (cutting trees), first and foremost, it is important to organize the importation of timber. Winter is ahead of us and many families warm their houses by burning wood.

According to an official document from the Armenian Tree Project Jeff Masarjian: “today (that is to say in 2008 V. B.) when only 8% of Armenia has remained covered with forest and every year around 5,000 hectares ³is being deforested”. And according to Dr. George Nersesyan (դոկտօրՋօրջ ներսեսյանի) “if the deforestation continues for another twenty years, Armenia will become completely deforested”.  Dr. George Nesesyan is the coordinator of UNDP (United Nations Development Programme).

Ten years have passed since the declaration of Dr. George Nersesyan. It is entirely possible that there will not be forested covering in Armenia (in another 10 years). But already there is hardly any forest left in Armenia because a forest is a living entity; it is not only many trees. It is a living body that has already been dismembered and we are now dealing with the dismembered parts, not the organism itself.

p.s. Some sources claim that during the days of   Robert Kocharian and Serzh Sargsyan, Armenia exported timber to Iran and Germany. 

Varujan Pambukhchyan

August 8, 2019

Nor Yerznka (is a town in the Kotayk Province of Armenia)

Notes: 

1.Hajareni (Հաճարենի) is a deciduous native tree in Armenia. It grows 40 to 50 meters tall and 1.5 to 2 meters in trunk perimeter. It lives for more than 400 years. it is one of the trees that dominate the forestry in Armenia and is found mostly Lori, Tavush and rarely in Kotyak and Syunik. 

2. Gaghni (Կաղնի). There are many varieties in Armenia. It is found in Lori, Kotyak, Tavush, Gegharkunik, Vayots, Syunik and other districts. It grows 40 to 50 meters tall, ceasing to grow taller after its 80th year, henceforth its branches. it lives 500-600 years at a time over 1000 years. The tree has come to symbolize strength and longevity.

3. Hectare 10,000 square meters, 2.47 acres.

Varujan Pambukhchyan

The original text in Armenian.

Կից ներկայացնում եմ Վարուժան Փամբուխչյանի՝ ֆեյսբուքյան իր էջում կատարած վերջին հրապարակման իմ համառոտ թարգմանությունը։ Վարուժանը բնիկ հայաստանցի է և ունի շարադրանքի և շարադրանքի իր առանձնահատուկ ոճը, որը մարտահրավեր է ներկայացնում այն ​​թարգմանելու համար, իսկ հնարավորության սահմաններում հավատարիմ մնալով իր հստակ բնագրին: Բնօրինակը հայերենով կցել եմ մանրամասն ուսումնասիրության համար։ Տարիներ շարունակ Վարուժանին ճանաչել եմ որպես Հայաստանին ամբողջ սրտով նվիրյալ մարդու։ Վահէ Յ. Աբէլեան

Հայաստանն անտառազորկ յէրկիրէ...

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Հ. Գ. Քառատէլիս, նախ կտրոմ էն մարդո ձէռքը, հէտօ՝ ւօտքը, այնոհէտյէւ՝ գլոխը: Արդյոնքոմ ստացւոմ է 4 կտօր, այսինքն՝ այլյէւս օրգանիզմի հէտ գօրծ չոնէնք, այլ կան առանձին օրգաննէր...

Հ. Գ-2 Ի դէպ՝ ըստ ւօրօշ աղբյորնէրի <<քաղբանտարկյալ>> Ռ. Քօչարյանի յէւ առայժմ <<ւօչքաղբանտարկյալ>> Ս. Սարգսյանի օրօք Հայաստանից անտառափայտ էրարտահանւոմ Իրան ո Գէրմանիա:

Վ. Փ.
05.08.19
ՆօրՅէրզնկա

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Mikoyan Has Come to Yerevan

Translated and abridged by Vahe H. Apelian


Amid the prevailing controversy as to how best deal with the Socviet Era Armenian leaders in Armenia, I am attaching s segment from Antranig Dzarougian’s book titled: “Old Dreams, New Roads”  (Հին ԵրազներՆորՃամբաներ) (1958), I translated a while back. 

When Mikoyan comes to Armenia, the waters of the Zankou River do not stop flowing but the whole country waits breathlessly. He comes for a few days, delivers an election speech, and returns to Moscow. It’s a country where people have no choice but have the right to cast their votes to the only candidate on the ballot. The whole thing looks like a comedy of sorts, the comic stage of an unimaginative play. But when one experiences the solemnity of the people, their enthusiasm and their religious-like devotion to the process, a person has no choice but become serious and make an effort to understand the meaning of all that is happening around him.

Mikoyan comes to Yerevan once every four years, delivers a speech, gets elected and returns to Moscow. For an already predetermined election, Mikoyan can present his candidacy from anywhere in the vast expanse of Russia. That would not make his star any less shiny among the bright stars of Kremlin. But the reality is that he has come to Armenia because he represents the people of Armenia in the Supreme Soviet whose parallel can be an amalgam of Babylon with its assortment of peoples and races; and the Roman legions with their fanatic obedience to law and order.

We are invited with the Catholicos to be present to Mikoyan's welcoming ceremony in the Opera House. It is not a small lucky turn of events for me. In fact, it’s an exceptional privilege. Half-a-million people will follow the ceremony clustered outside in front of large screens. We, on the other hand, will be seated comfortably in the hall where only the princes and the princelings will be allowed.

A crowd in countless thousands, constituting a sea of people, has surrounded the Opera House extending to the streets further away. When our car stops at the main gate, instinctively I sense that I am witnessing an important and a memorable happening. Rows of policemen have lined up in formal attire; they represent not only Soviet Armenia but also the Soviet Union. How would they receive the Catholicos of All Armenians? I wonder. The Vehapar appears to be noticeably moved as well and immersed in his thoughts, which might not be far from mine.

Tens of thousands have their eyes focused on the unfolding scene. It is not hard to fathom that they are impatiently following the rare event.  The event is a testing moment. Publically and officially the Armenian Church and the Armenian State will face each other in a symbolic welcome. We start off. Right away a goliath of a man, a giant in formal police attire and the head of the Yerevan police force meets us. He greets the Vehapar cordially. He bows his head slightly and with his right arm gestures us towards the main gate. The arm, more than pointing to a direction, appears to us as a bridge over which we will walk and enter. We walk. He walks with us. The rows of the policemen on the two sides do not extend official salute. A communist never salutes a clergyman. But they straighten themselves, stand still and bow their heads. I take note. It continues this way from the entry hall to the entrance of the main hall. The head of the police greets us again, bows and returns.

Inside, an unmistakably moving surprise awaits us. The hall is full to capacity. The state, party and intellectual elite and anyone who is somebody in Armenia are present. They are ministers, generals, academicians, scientists, writers, professors, astrophysicists, and specialists: all of them are there and have occupied their seats. There is nothing out of the ordinary in that. But the extraordinary and the miraculous happens just at the very moment when the Catholicos occupies his place. The central seating for the dignitary has been reserved for the Catholicos of All the Armenians.

The scene explains itself. There is no need to elaborate further. But I need to sort out my train of thought that crowds my mind. I write this book for me. It’s up to readers to interpret what I write. Consequently, I need to write what I felt and what I thought when I witnessed the scene. Oh, man where are you? Oh, you Armenian man, where are you? I keep asking myself. Are you in the fifth-century Vagharshabad or in the tenth century Ani or in the hall of an opera house in a modern city? These very same people who have gathered here have reserved the central seating to the Catholicos of All Armenians when they deny the existence of God and do not believe in religion but they are Armenians. They are Marxists. They are Armenians. They are communists. They are Armenians. They are advocates of the brotherhood of men. They are Armenians. They do not believe in God. They are Armenians. That is why, even though they do not enter a church, they uphold the spiritual leader more than their leaders. In the Catholicos, they see their past and its glory.

The man who came to the podium accompanied by thundering applause and who cracked a few witty jokes in Armenian is also Armenian. Now he continues to read in Russian an important speech that seems to be endless. I understand nothing from what he says, but I know that the political leaders in the capital cities of the world are attentively following every word he says. By dawn next day his speech will appear in the countless papers of the Soviet Union and will be published in million copies from Moscow to Peking and will be available to a billion people. His speech is in Russian but the speaker is an Armenian and the Yerevan Opera’s stage has become a focal point tonight.

Mikoyan's speech has no end in sight. It has been more than an hour since he started reading but the reams of paper in front of him have hardly reached halfway. Even though it is Mikoyan who is speaking, it’s no small torture to stay put listening to something you do not understand. I see an exit that does not seem to be too noticeable. I go outside to smoke. I lose nothing. I will read his speech tomorrow in the paper.

I meet a well-known writer in the hallway.

“Did you get bored?”

“No, it’s the repetition of things one understands that becomes boring. The things that you do not understand tire you. In this case, it's not the fault of the deliverer or the listener,” I said.

 “It’s a matter of getting used to it.”

I know the intellectuals of Armenia. They tend to start and end their conversations with witty remarks.

“Listen, in my country if a candidate speaks this long, we do not vote him,” I say.

“This one has his re-election guaranteed. That is why he cares less.”

Truly you cannot outwit these folks. They have a way of outwitting you.

I go inside. The speech continues at times to long and thunderous applause. I have reoccupied my seat. Since I have nothing to listen to, I immerse in my thoughts. There is nothing sentimental in my thoughts as I attempt to rationalize. This man who is one of the very highest-placed officials in the Soviet Union. What has he done for Armenia? I ponder.

At first glance the answer is nothing. But once you dwell further and after having been in contact with the people of Armenia, you realize that they, in their unmistakable instincts, see in Mikoyan a compatriot who cares for them but does not articulate, protects but does not show. If the style is the essence of writing, so it is in politics. The man has remained center stage for three decades. Those higher up than him have fallen, the ones below him pay a hefty price, but the man carries on. Where can one find the secret of his political longevity if not in his style? He serves but does not demand. He accomplishes but does not shine. A man, who is indispensable to his country, but does not abuse his position. He lives with the upper strata but always shies away from the limelight. Truly without understanding the man, Anastas Ivanovich Mikoyan in Moscow, it is not possible to understand this Armenian man, on the podium, the one-time student of the Kevorkian Djemaran, and the one-time volunteer and soldier under the command of General Antranig.

He has been in Armenia for the past two days, and tomorrow he will return to Moscow. Yesterday evening, two carloads, some forty people, arrived from Tiflis. They were not officials from the other republics. Nor were they representatives of the party. They were his one-time classmates from the Nersesian School: most of them ordinary citizens. He spent the whole evening with them feasting, dancing and singing. He was transferred to a different world.

The somber and wrinkled-faced person in official portraits is a highly social person. Should we ask ourselves 'what does he do for Armenia for the overwhelming votes he receives?' It would be difficult to answer. At the moment, other than the papers in his hand, nothing else is visible. Four years ago he gave a similar speech in Russian in the same hall. I was not present, so I cannot comment. It would not have mattered anyway as I do not understand Russian. It was during that speech, maybe at the beginning or at the end; or during his ideological discourse in Armenian that he has mentioned Yeghishe Charents.

The name and the literary works of Charents had remained under lock. Suddenly they burst free. Soon after the works of Charents were published in Armenia in two editions of 25,000 copies each. Springs and schools were named after the eminent author. The fact is that for 25 seasons Charents had remained buried. After Mikoyan’s speech suddenly Charents blossomed. True that when Mikoyan comes to Armenia the waters do not remain still but suddenly long interred poets can resurrect.

Mikoyan has ended his speech and he starts conversing in Armenian. He is joyful, witty and robust as if he is not the person who delivered a two-hour speech. There is a break for 20 minutes after which the reception would follow with music and dance. Thousands of eyes now remain focused on the Catholicos, who is not unaware or indifferent of the attention, but he has nothing to say.

Two persons enter the box where the Catholicos is seated.

“Vehapar, Comrade Mikoyan would like to meet you. He would have come to escort you but the buffet is ready, so he asks you to join him there.”

A pillar of Kremlin would not want to appear escorting a clergyman. All those in the hall are members of the party, committed communists, but they are Armenians. Asking outright the Catholicos to come to him would not sit well with many. In a typical Mikoyan style, the message is subtly delivered that he would have escorted the Vehapar but the buffet is ready for both of them to head there together.

It turns out that it is not the first time that Mikoyan has met the Vehapar.  Seven years ago they have met in Bucharest during a reception in honor of Mikoyan hosted by the Romanian government.

“I was surprised to see among the guest an Armenian priest,” says Mikoyan. On the podium, it seemed Mikoyan was struggling with his Armenian. In close circles his Armenian is flawless. He reminisces about his student days.

“That Armenian priest wanted to make a clergy out of me, the priest…”. He seeks to remember the name and suddenly with an air of triumph says, “Yes, Karekin Vartabed". He is happy he remembers the name fifty years later. He suddenly realizes the Vartabed was no other than the Catholicos of the Cilician See, Karekin I.

“The good man worked hard to make something out of me, but out came a good-for-nothing”.

“Mister Mikoyan, I wish all those good-for-nothings would have been much like you,” remarks the Catholicos.

Simon Vratsian’s Appeal and Stern Rebuttal

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian

Mikle Babayan (Մայքլ Բաբայան) has posted the following from Simon Vratsian written when Vratsian was the Minister of Agriculture (rural economy գյուղատնտեսության) and State Property (գույք) in the First Republic of Armenia. Ministries may have changed their designations nowadays but surely not the needs. Vratsian’s public appeal stands true today as it did then. It reads as follows:

“Having assumed the responsibility as the Minister of Agriculture (rural economy) and State Property and wanting to Armenianize the institution, I appealed through diplomatic representatives, and as well as the press, the specialists in the Diaspora inviting them to come to Armenia and fill in positions. I promised them better wages and facilities than those who already are on the jobs. It has been three months and I have not received a single applicant from any Armenian specialist from overseas. 

Again, and for the last time, I appeal to you Armenians specialists in rural economy, animal husbandry, forestry, mining, water, farming, dairy, and in other specializations. Come to Armenia. There is a lot of work and many positions open for you. It is true that working in Armenia is challenging and calls for sacrificing. But if you are not going to come during these difficult days, and sacrifice today, when the better days come, you will not be needed in Armenia any more.

How come the Poles and the Russians are able to work in Armenia now but you cannot? For when have you reserved your patriotism? Are you under the impression that giving us good advice while staying in Tiflis, Bolis or in America you are doing your patriotic duties? If you are with Armenia and are friends to Armenia come to Armenia. If you do not want to come now, leave Armenia alone (minding its own issues). Armenia does not need your rhetorical speeches and your advices. What are needed in Armenia are your work, your knowhow, and your specialty, your Armenianness.

Come!

Simon Vratsian

Minister of Agriculture & State Property and Labour

June 12, 1920

Yervan”

«...Ստանձնելով գյուղատնտեսության և պետական գույքի նախարարի պաշտոնը և կամենալով անմիջապես հայացնել հիմնարկությունները՝ ես թե՛ Հանրապետության դիվանագիտական ներկայացուցիչների, և թե՛ մամուլի միջոցով դիմեցի արտասահմանի հայ մասնագետներին՝ հրավիրելով նրանց Հայաստանում պաշտոն ստանձնելու։ Դրսից նորեկողների համարես խոստացա ավելի բարձրվարձատրություն և դյուրություններտալ, քան արդեն պաշտոնավարողներին։ Երեք ամիս անցել է ահա և մինչև այսօրՈՉ ՄԻ դիմում չունեմ արտասահմանի հայ մասնագետներից, որոնց թիվը հարյուրներով է հաշվվում։ 
Նորից և վերջին անգամ հրապարակավ դիմում եմ ձեզ հայ գյուղատնտեսներ, անասնաբույծներ, անտառագետներ, հանքագետներ, ջրագետներ, այգեպաններ, կաթնատնտեսներև ուրիշ մասնագետներ՝ եկե՛ք Հայաստան, ուրձեզ համարկա առատ գործ և հարմարպաշտոններ։ Ճիշտ է, Հայաստանում աշխատելն այժմ դժվարէ և կապված է զոհողությունների հետ, բայց եթե դուք չեք գալու դժվարին օրերին, եթե չեք կամենում զոհողություն անել այսօր, վաղը, երբ հասնեն լայն ու հեշտ օրեր՝դուք այլևս ավելորդեք Հայաստանի համար։
Ինչու՞ ռուսը, լեհը կարող են հիմա էլ ծառայել Հայաստանում, իսկ դուք չեք կարող. ո՞րօրվա համարէ ձերհայրենասիրությունը։ Թե՞ կարծում եք, որԹիֆլիսում, Պոլսում և Ամերիկայում նստած, գեղեցիկ ճառերարտասանելով ու լավ-լավ խորհուրդներտալով մեզ՝ արդեն իսկ կատարած եք լինում ձերազգասիրական պարտականությունները։
Եթե դուք Հայաստանի հետ եք ու Հայաստանի բարեկամ՝ եկե՛ք Հայաստան, եթե չեք գալիս՝ թողե՛ք Հայաստանը հանգիստ։ Հայաստանը ձերճառերին ու խորհուրդներին կարոտ չէ. Հայաստանին ձերգործն է հարկավոր, ձերհմտությունը, ձերմասնագիտությունը, ձերհայագիտությունը։ 
Եկե՛ք»։ 

Հայաստանի Հանրապետության գյուղատնտեսության, պետական գույքի և աշխատանքի նախարարՍիմոն Վրացյան

1920 թ. հունիսի 12
Երևան

A Tribute to Lebanon: The Cradle of Armenian Diaspora Pop Music

Starting from the early 1960’s a host of Armenian singers and musical bands appeared on stage in Beirut, Lebanon using for the first time non-traditional instruments such as guitar, percussion drum-sets, electronic organ (keyboards), saxophone and the like ushering the Armenian music onto a new era away from its Ottoman influences. The ‘invasion’ of these musical bands lasted until the mid-1970’s and tapered off with the onset of the Lebanese Civil war having altered the popular Armenian music. Boghos Shahmelikian, a musician and a bass guitar player, narrated the era in his book titled "ՅիշատակներԱնցած Օրեր" ("Memories and Bygone Days"). I translated and expanded it into English. My maternal cousin Jack Chelebian M.D. edited the book as “The Dawn of Armenian Pop Music”. The Armenian Cultural by Hrach Kalsahakian published it.  The attached is the concluding chapter

The Five Fingers 

"Not long after I arrived in the United States, Adiss [Lebanese-Armenian singer, bandleader Harmandian] offered me to play bass guitar in his band at the nightclub he owned. At the end of my first day’s performance as I was getting ready to go home and leave my guitar behind, Pierre, Adiss’ brother, who played the drums in the band, advised me to take my guitar with me and cautioned that it could get stolen.

For years I had played with The Five Fingers [band] at the La Fourmi [a restaurant in a Lebanese mountain resort]. All of us left our instruments at the open-air restaurant. The possibility that they may be stolen had never crossed our minds. Lebanon is a small country. It was the country where everyone knew everyone else.

Lebanon not only welcomed the survivors of the Genocide of the Armenians but it also integrated them in the social and political fabric of the country. Unhindered by unwarranted intrusion in their personal and communal lives, the Armenians prospered financially and thrived culturally. In the sectarian make-up of governance in Lebanon, the Armenian community is considered one of the largest and is constitutionally assured of representation in the government. The Armenians thus became not only a constituent of the political make-up of the country but also enriched the cosmopolitan culture of its society.

The 1960s and the first half of the 1970s marked the golden age of music in Lebanon, especially in Beirut. The Armenians contributed far more than their demographic share. Many of the musicians and the music bands that made Lebanon the entertainment capital of the Middle East were Armenian.

The News

In summer the music bands and the singers entertaining the public in Lebanon’s famous mountain summer resorts--stretching from Dhour Shweir up to Mrouj--were almost all Armenian. In the center of Dhour Shweir, at the restaurant Le Centre, Vartivar Antossian sang with his Los Amores band. Right across it, at the Hawie restaurant, Adiss Harmandian sang accompanied by Jacques Kodjian and his band. Some 200 yards up the hill in a restaurant next to Hotel Kassouf, Ara Kekedjian sang accompanied by his band. Almost next to it, at the Homenetmen restaurant Varouj and his Days band performed every weekend. The La Fourmi restaurant wasn't far from it. The Five Fingers performed there. A little farther up the hill was the next summer resort of Bois de Bologne. Levon Katerjian sang there at the Samaha restaurant accompanied by his band. All these restaurants would be filled to capacity on weekends and the great majority of the customers were Armenian. The "Aztag" daily featured a cartoon, by Massis, depicting singer singing, “Who am I”, while the singer in the next restaurant sang, “Who are you?” In fact, while sitting in a restaurant one could hear the singer in the next.

In the late 1960s (the early 1970s), Alex Manougian was invited to Lebanon for the inauguration of a community center to be named after him. A dinner dance was held in his honor in Beirut's famed Hotel Phoenicia. The partitions between two large adjoining ballrooms were removed to accommodate the festivities. Almost all the prominent members of the Armenian community were present to pay homage to the great benefactor. The ballroom exuded exuberance. Only several years earlier, the Armenian community had commemorated the 50^th anniversary of the Genocide of the Armenians in the stadium named after President Camille Chamoun. That somber event had become a psychological boost to the community as well. The community had realized that it had come a long way since the 1915-1923 ordeal and was thriving, felt prosperous and confident. An Italian music band and Adiss, who was at the pinnacle of his career, provided the evening’s entertainment. I accompanied Adiss and his band.

While, addressing the audience, a teary-eyed Alex Manougian said that Ashoogh Djeevani (Աշուղ Ջիւանի)  had gotten it all wrong when he had sang that "bad days, much like winter, come and go...”. It’s not only the bad days, Manougian said, but also the good and happy days are also ephemeral. His words were not meant to be cautionary but were uttered to reflect his joy at the moment. The words proved to be prophetic nonetheless. Civil war erupted in Lebanon not too long after and changed the course of the country and of the Diaspora forever. The heart and soul of the Armenian Diaspora, the Armenian community of Lebanon, much like its host country, was gravely wounded, dysfunctional and prone to large-scale emigration.

Almost all the musicians I have mentioned in this book had their debuts in Lebanon. Some of them eventually achieved worldwide acclaim. I have attempted to portray the era as completely as possible and their contributions to the golden age of Armenian pop music in Lebanon as objectively as I could. I pray readers found my narration not only unbiased but also entertaining and enjoyable.

I have been in the United States for over three decades. I often reminisce about the bygone days in Lebanon. Last but not least, I would like to note that along with the many musicians I mentioned in this book, I also remain indebted to Lebanon for making my youthful aspirations to be a musician and our collective experiences in music possible. In doing so Lebanon became the cradle that ushered the “Dawn of (Diaspora) Armenian Pop Music ”.

Flowers- Dzaghigner (Ծաղիկներ) by Adiss

Those who came of age in 1960s in the Middle East remember the Armenian pop music star Adiss Harmandian who, out of the blue, burst onto the Armenian music scene with his Ծաղիկներ (Dzaghigner--Flowers) song and ushered a new era of Armenian pop music. Boghos Shahmelikian, a musician and a bass guitar player, narrated the behind the scenes of the musical phenomenon in his book titled "Յիշատակներ Անցած Օրեր" ("Memories and Bygone Days"). I translated and expanded it into English. My maternal cousin Jack Chelebian M.D. edited the book as “The Dawn of Armenian Pop Music”. The Armenian Cultural by Hrach Kalsahakian published it. The book may be purchased from Amazon.com. The attached is an excerpt from the book

“Among the Armenians who are interested in the theater, Calouste Jansezian is a well-known stage actor. He has successfully played different roles in the Hamazkayin Armenian Cultural Association’s Kaspar Ipekian Theater Group in Lebanon. He also loved to sing and wanted to produce Ծաղիկներ (Dzaghigner) song. He approached Daniel Der Sahakian, a successful producer of records. Daniel saw a business opportunity in Calouste’s proposal and financed the orchestration of the song with Reddy Bobbio, who was a well-known musician in Lebanon and played in prestigious nightclubs such as Phoenicia and Paon Rouge. The recording of the orchestration went smoothly. It was time to produce the record.

Any song that is produced on a record has its orchestration done ahead of time. Later it is played in the studio as the vocalist sings the song. The situation was no different when Calouste attempted to record the song. But alas, he did not succeed. His repeated attempts to record the song ended in failure. It became obvious that he did not possess that particular talent.

Daniel Der Sakakian, who had invested a lot of money in the orchestration of the song, naturally did not want to give up on his investment. He looked for singers to record the song. He approached Eddy Kev (Kevork Khacherian) and Manuel Menengichian. The two were notable singers with national acclaim. Both had won first prize in successive years in Pêle-Mêle, the Lebanese national television talent competition. They sang European songs and both refused to sing Dzaghigner.

Daniel then approached Ara Guiragossian who sang Armenian classical songs and exuded opera influences whereas the orchestration and the lyrics of Dzaghigner were of the popular genre. They agreed the song was not a good fit for the singer.

Daniel then approached Ara Kekedjian who had established a reputation as a singer of Armenian children’s songs. His records for more mature audiences had not been well received. After further consideration neither one found the song to be a good fit for Kekedjian.

Daniel was close to giving up on his investment when Antranig Mardirossian, who ran Lebanon’s first record store, suggested a young singer he knew from the Bourj-Hammoud neighborhood. “He sings well. He has already produced a record in French,” said Mardirossian and asked whether Daniel would like to try him. The young singer’s name was Adiss Harman. Having produced a record, Adiss had acquired experience in recording in a studio. His voice proved to be a natural fit for the song. They recorded the song and produced it under Daniel Der Sakakian’s label, VOS (Voice of the Stars). To promote the record, Adiss dropped his adopted surname, Harmand, in favor of his family name but retained his adopted artistic name.  The rest is Armenian musical history.

Ծաղիկներ (Dzaghigner) became an instant hit with a demand for more. The Armenian community seemed to have been craving for lighthearted songs and had finally found one. There was no time to waste. Soon after, they recorded other songs that proved to be no less popular: Մանուշակ (Manooshag), Մթնշաղ (Mntshagh), Ծաղիկներս ում Նուիրեմ (Dzaghigners Oum Nvirem), Այլ Աչեր Կան Իմ Սրտում (Ayl Acher Gan Im Srdoum).The songs were simple, easily understood. Hasmig Manasserian, a self-educated composer in Armenia, had composed the songs.

After Reddy Robio left Lebanon following his orchestration of the Ծաղիկներ (Dzaghigner), Jacques Kodjian took over and worked with Adiss for many years. Overnight, an Armenian pop--estradayin’-- star was born. Adiss gave concerts in many countries. He even toured the United States. Some fifty years ago that was no small feat. It was unprecedented for an Armenian singer to travel so far to give a concert. For a while I accompanied Adiss. It is hard to fathom that an Armenian singer could have mustered such popularity in the Armenian Diaspora or that the Armenian community could bestow such adulation on one of them, as they did on Adiss.

Adiss was 20 years old when he burst on the Armenian pop music scene. He had good looks. His overnight rise from obscurity to national fame arguably remains unprecedented in Armenian Diaspora music. Calouste Jansezian was the catalyst of Armenian pop music in the Diaspora. A catalyst accelerates the rate of a happening without itself undergoing any permanent change. He remained the notable stage actor but Adiss emerged as the undisputed pioneer and idol of Armenian Diaspora pop music. 

Adiss’ baptismal name is Avedis. His name means someone who brings good tidings. Indeed, he brought good tidings to Armenian culture by popularizing Armenian music. Thanks to his stamina, good looks, drive, likable personality on and off the stage, Adiss remains an undisputed leader of Armenian pop music. His contribution to Armenian culture was formally recognized when Catholicos Aram I bestowed upon him the Order of Saint Mesrob Mashtots in 2005. Adiss Harmandyan, the first Armenian pop music singer is also the first modern Armenian pop music star to be bestowed with the ecclesiastical order.”

Yetvart Boyadjian: The Writer and the Man

By Ohan Tabakian M.D.

The attached is my abridged translation of the first chapter from Dr. Ohan Tabakian's book "Memories and Life Experiences from the Dreamy Aleppo - Յուշեր ու Ապրումներ Երազային Հալէպէն). Both of them were my teachers in Sourp Nshan School. Yetvart Boyadjian taught us Armenian language for many years. Ohan Tabakian M.D. taught us chemistry during our graduating year, when he was a medical student. Both and some of the other teachers graciously accepted my parents' invitation to celebrate my graduation as depicted in the attached pictures. Vahe H. Apelian.

Yetvart Boyadjian

“Yetvart Boyadjian was my teacher in the Haigazian School in Aleppo from 1946 to 1948.

We lived in the same neighborhood. In those years the students had a lunch break at noon and went to their homes to have their lunch. He had tasked me to stop by their house, on my way back to school, and bring to him his lunch in the three-tier copper lunch canister that was customarily used in those days. I proudly carried the canister to school gently swinging it back and forth. I felt honored that I was given such an assignment. After all, I was the one who brought the teacher’s lunch to school. Thus I considered that I had a privileged relationship with my teacher.

After I graduated from kindergarten, I started attending another school and thus lost touch with him. In 1958 we moved to Beirut so that I will be able to continue my education in medicine there. I was offered a part-time teaching job in the Sourp (Saint) Nshan Armenian school where I was to teach chemistry and biology while continuing my education.

I was pleasantly surprised when I met him on the very first day I reported to the school. Baron Boyadjian taught Armenian to the higher classes of the school. Right after I greeted and embraced him he told me to address him by his name Yetvart and do away using the adjective “baron”. “We are colleagues now,” he told me. In time a special relationship blossomed between him and me.

Yetvart Boyadjian was born in 1915 in Jabal Mousa (Musa Dagh) in Khdr Bek village. He received his primary education from the local schools of Khdr Bek and Yoghun Oluk and at the age of fifteen, he started the second phase of his education in the Armenian Jemaran School of Beirut where he stayed for five years until 1935. Afterward, he became a teacher.

The clear bright days and the star-studded nights of his ancestral village always enamored him. But the turn of events in his life mostly kept him away from his ancestral village and left him wanting to live the village life. To make up for what he lost, he started writing an early age noting that he did not play much. He contributed to "Hayrenik" monthly, "Haratch", "Aztag" daily, "Nayiri" weekly, "Hask", "Dziadzan", "Aztarar", and "Agos" publications using different pen names such as Vazken Diranian, Y. Sarian, and Y. Dzovigian.

He wrote stories, prose, and poems and authored the following books “Love and Sorrow” (Ser Yev Vishd – Սէր եւ Վիշտ, 1944),  “The Land” ( Hoghe – Հողը, 1948), “Letter To My Children) (Tought Zavagnerous – Թուղթ Զաւակներուս, 1961),  “ An Exile’s Ledger” (Domar Darakri – Տոմար Տարագրի, 1963),“Two Letters” (Yergou Namagner – Երկու Նամակներ, 1964),  “Faces” (Temker – Դեմքեր, 1964), “Lost Birthplace” (Dznntavayr Gorousial – Ծննդավայր Կորուսեալ, 1984). 

" Often during our free time in the school, he and I would walk in the school’s yard conversing. Our walk also  gave him the liberty of smoking. In those days there was no ruling against smoking. But a few of our colleagues had complained to the principal voicing their opposition for his smoking in the break room during recess. 

The  Soupr Nshan school, its namesake church, and the Prelacy were next to each other in the same compound. Often time the Prelate, Archbishop Khoren Paroyan would join us. Most of our conversation was about the turmoil that affected the Armenian community in those years. 

Yetvart Boyadjian had a  daring and rebellious streak in him. His writing style reflected those traits. In one of his writings, he wrote: “Whoa to those who have no power in their nails. Whoa to the person who is away from the battlefield, away from the land. Alas to such persons and what a pity to such nations.”

He was a true son of the legendary Mussa Dagh. He was a man of strong convictions and remained steadfast in his principles. He was extremely kind, good-natured, unpretentious and an unassuming man. 

As a teacher of the Armenian language, he made a modest living. The good natured villager was his hallmark. He maintained a simple lifestyle camouflaging anguish and deprivation. He remained a very attentive parent and a much sought social company. He remained true to himself and there was nothing that masked him, 

 Yetvart Boyadjian drew contentment in teaching the Armenian language to the children of the genocide survivors growing up in a far away land. He drew much satisfaction in imparting to them the love of the Armenian language and all things Armenian. Nowadays his former students are dispersed all over the Diaspora. They are torchbearers of the present day Armenia. They remain steadfast in pursuing a just resolution of the Armenian cause. Undoubtedly something from Yetvart Boyadjian’s soul reverberates in his former students.

He passed away in 1965, at the age of 50, in Beirut, Lebanon far away from his ancestral village where he was born. Incense and wreath to his unforgettable sweat memory."