On our plans and the Higher Powers

"Do you love planned days?"

This question was recently addressed to me by a close person. I could not unambiguously answer this question "yes" or "no", but during our dialogue we just came to the conclusion that it is often necessary to plan the days, because otherwise I will forget half of those things that I have to do. The probability of an enterprise quite often depends on various factors, and plans start branching out, because in fact you could not know which branch will work and which one will fail. Sometimes it happens that something intrudes into a carefully planned schedule, something which forces us to move away from all schedules and plans, or be more and more late for each of the subsequent meetings. In any case, it seems to me that the planning of the day is a kind of discipline, by following which we just learn to be prepared for any surprise, be it an unpleasant coincidence, a pleasant meeting or an amazing adventure.

There is also a category of disruptions of our plans called force majeure. These are situations when we are forced to submit to the will of the Higher Powers. Such situations are specially noted in official papers and legal documents, with special reservations that, so to say, in case of force majeure, this or that side is not responsible for the consequences. The situation is not pleasant, so when we hear "force majeure" negative associations unconsciously appear in our minds. However, sometimes the Higher Forces create small, sometimes insignificant or inconspicuous force majeures, which cause some surprises to happen.

This year the annual Armmono Festival was held from April 29 to May 3. Fortunately, these dates basically coincided with the days off and holidays celebrated in our country, and so I dissolved in the theater halls, running from one to another in between performances to catch up with the start. As always, regular viewers managed to make friends, maintained interesting conversations, made the atmosphere of the festival even more festive.

A couple of weeks before the festival, one of my new acquaintances, a promising young actor, invited me to attend their graduate production. I'd just seen some photographs of the stage layout, and I was very interested in what will come out of it all. I promised to come, and so I was waiting for the announcement. And so, a few days before the festival, I am getting an invitation from this very actor, I am agree to attend, I am opening the schedule for the upcoming week to add a note... and I realize that the premiere falls on the very middle of the third day of the festival – May 1. "Well, I'll have to miss three performances: a mono-opera (I have not yet seen such performances yet), a performance by a famous actress from Ukraine, and one of our debuts, which were quite many this year.

No. The play to which I was invited was not that force majeure I am going to talk here about. Those were a bottle of beer with a nourishing cheburek (deep-fried flat patties filled with minced meat), which I, having got hungry, bought after the planned visit of the first of the 1^st of May performances. I was sitting on a bench in the garden near the Republic Square, I was eating and drinking without any rush, and during that process something somehow made me believe that between 17:00, which was the end of the very debut that I was going to miss, and 17:00, which was supposed to be the start of the play, which I had to visit, there were enough minutes and seconds for me to have time to run from the Sundukyan State Academic Theater to the National Theater. In reality, the distance between them is 0.87 miles, which usually can be traversed in 17-18 minutes.

So now I had to hurry to make it to the beginning of the debut "Վերադառնում եմ, մոռացեք..." ("I am returning, forget about it..."). Fed and happy, I was ready for any continuation of the day. After all, I could get out before the end of this performance, to be in time for the beginning of another one. Having got into the space under the main stage, I realized that I would have to stand behind a massive beam that would cover 80% of the view I got if I had to sit. But I could move freely, and so I kept track of what was happening on stage. And on the stage a young actress Nvard Dudukchyan (Նվարդ Դուդուկչյան) was telling the story of a woman who lived in those cold and hungry years in which I happened to live. She painted images and situations so accurately that I was going from bitter memories into optimistic laughter, out of admiration for the beauty of the human nature into the darkness and cold of that time.

The only thing I did not quite understand was her age: the debutante looked very fresh, young, but she was about thirty years old, no less.

And I understood all the rest, I accepted it, and accepted again and so for an hour, while she was devoting herself to her play. I liked what I see more and more, and I realized that I would definitely be late for that another performance, but I did not resist. I increasingly believed in what I saw, more and more often repeating "Yes! Yes! Yes!" inside of me, my spirit was calm, and I felt euphoria of happiness, when suddenly ...

... someone’s cell phone rang.

Not only people in our audience do not turn their phones off prior to the beginning of a performance. This disease is inherent in all. I remember how during two out of the three Peter Hammill concerts in London this year at the very beginning of the songs (with quite a dramatic content) someone’s cell phone started ringing. But then the person in the audience, embarrassed, interrupted the call, turned the phone off and tried not to meet the eyes of those who were there until they forgot about him (or her). But in our case, a man collapsed in his seat in the middle (!) of the first (!!) row answered (!!!) the call and, as if nothing had happened, began to find out his relationships with someone.

This was the force-majeure that was due to happen to Nvard, and it depended solely on her through which of the branches of the unforeseen, unplanned situation she would get out of it. "Hold on! Hold on! Do not break! Take it! He will finish his stupid conversation soon..."

...

I had to hurry after the performance, but the audience kept on and on and on applauding, congratulating, wiping away tears and glowing with smiles, but I had to tell her one phrase, and only after that I could leave the theater. "It was a debut worthy of Triumph," I said (this is the name of a certain category of the festival awards).

Nvard is an unusual person (as well as each of us). The range of her interests is really pleasing, the desire to create commands high respect, and the openness with which she challenges the new, gives confidence that our youth deserves admiration and attention. Confusion with age was resolved when I found out that she was not yet twenty. She was among those who came to my concert at the end of June and we even had some time to briefly talk in "how are you doing?" manner.

A week ago, I learned that a slightly modified version of the same performance was to be played on the 3^rd of July in the Winter Hall of the Sundukyan State Academic Theater. "Winter – that would be great with our forty-degree heat!"

Despite the evening time, the heat was still persisting, but we somehow coped with it. This time I was lucky with my seat: I was sitting in the first row next to the left side of the stage, so I could see everything that had escaped me on the first of May ... But were there, during the debut, those very tears, real tears, tears alive that I was seeing now? I do not remember, but it was not important now, now, when she was once again telling the story that happened in the years when she was not even born, and when listening to it, we were crying, smiling, weeping again, then laughing – and applauding! She was talking about those cold days, wearing a few woolen sweaters, a hat, gloves, winter boots, a handkerchief (yes, we clothed like that in those years!), and understanding how unbearably hot it was now for her, we still felt that cold of the early 90's. Ropes in her hands came to life and became people with different characters and destinies. She was creating pictures, she was working, she was trying...

... and only after the performance did she learn that on the same day, the first of May, when she appeared before the real audience, many of whom did not understand a word of what she said, when she masterfully turned into a woman who could had a daughter of her age, when she did not break down in front of an indifferent audience occupying the most privileged place – on that very day she had grown to become an actress, and as confirmation of this came the news that she had received an invitation to take part in an international theater festival, about which we soon, I hope, will learn firsthand.

Nvard did not make plans for the future prior to her debut. She correctly assessed her strength and worked conscientiously on here and now basis. She read her role, she did everything right, but added a little touch of Life – and so she was able to stand the force majeure, which was specially created to test her for strength. She made everything as it should on last Monday, but she invested even more Life. By the way, this time there was someone with the phone among the audience again (more than once the phone rang), but Life does not like to repeat itself, and so this call had no more power over Nvard. Life is already preparing for her and for each of the Young Generation something new, something special, something that they all have to face and not to break. Then the new horizons will open for them.

In the meantime, I want to wish them all to love what they are doing and to do what they love. They are so good at it!

The Higher Powers laugh at us when we are planning our days. So, probably, I would say I love the planned days, because on such days so many unexpected things can happen.

Big Hope for My Small Country

I think each of us has an opinion on the contingency of events: someone thinks that the events occurring in the world around us do not depend on anything other than natural influences, and if a rock falls, it is only because there is gravity which has surpassed all the other forces applied to that rock in the moment before the start of its fall, and there is nothing more than this. No chance is involved. According to them, events taking place in the society are subject to certain social laws, and so on. But there are those among us to whom such explanation would not be enough. They try to look taller and dig deeper.

During the two latest performances on the stage of our Small Theatre, I thought a lot (or rather, my brain was working on a subconscious level) about what was happening on stage. No, I'm not talking about the actors’ play, lighting, change of scenery, and other attributes of modern performance. I'm talking about the Magic that occurs regularly on the stage of the Small Theatre. This is the Magic to which myself and the rest of the audience – from young to old – happily entrust our souls’ strings responsible for resonating certain feelings, like joy, pain, pride, admiration, sympathy. I cannot be 100% sure that this is exactly how it happens, but for some reason we are already used to the procedure of placement of spectators right before every performance, whose number always exceeds the number of seats. People come to the theater, and the Word about it – one step ahead of them!

I'm forty-five now, and I am surprised that, up to February this year, I was not aware of the Small Theater that had been operating for thirty-five years by that time, I did not know about the studio, which has been working for two decades already, and have not met in my life these wonderful, beautiful and bright talented people, half my age but without whom I cannot quite imagine myself as a regenerated man. What have kept me away from this meeting all these years? What is "It" knowing exactly when this should happen? What led me here?

I already lost count of each of the four performances I’ve seen that are played regularly at the Small Theatre, as well as lost count of the visits I paid to this little place in a small town in this small land. And all this happened (and, fortunately, continues to happen) this year. 2016 – the year when Brexit and Trump started, when Syria and Ukraine continued, and so many great artists of the global importance ended their lifetime – turned out to be a very happy one for me, I would say it was a wonderful year. Somewhere in the beginning of this year, I met someone, a stranger, just like that, on my way home. In the end of our short meeting, I was invited to visit the Small Theatre and watch a new show related to the worldwide commemoration of 400 years since the death of William Shakespeare (the 23^rd of April date is uncertain; therefore, it has been fairly stretched across the whole year). And so, I came to the theater.

Was this meeting accidental, or was it going to happen exactly as it happened? I do not see the point in defining my position on this matter. Here is my story, here I am, carefully attending any (!) show the actors would play, here is the text I am writing after another visit. Writing about this is not easy, because I want to convey a lot of things, but "talking" about this does not work. You cannot dance about architecture, it is pointless to write a song, it is useless to describe the a masterpiece painting.

The performances that I have seen – they are wonderful. So different and deep, so beautiful and heartfelt. They are easy to watch, for they do not last more than an hour, they are accessible, aesthetic and dynamic.

During the 1-hour "SHAKE" – the first performance I’ve ever seen on this stage – we naturally reflect on Shakespearean characters, consider the intertwining of their fates, map the world classics onto the world day-to-day, finally – and that it is quite normal for Shakespeare – we do not find anything new in the revelations and still we wonder just "How could he know so much?". All this is accompanied by the enchanting music, soliloquies and dialogues, read by the famous actors (I would like to specially note that all audio materials are obtained in full compliance with international copyright laws). And finally – the actors!

Then, in February, I returned to public life and began to attend performances at different theaters. Again, Shakespear’s name in the title of another play staged on the scene of another theater, attracted me. I liked "that" show, too, I even went to see it twice. Once I dared to compare the physical fit of the actors (after I attended "SHAKE" for the second time, too). Well, “those” guys were all professional actors, and me – I still was missing something. But here I am attending “SHAKE” for the third time, the fourth, I bring my friends with me, I spread the word about my discovery, fifth, sixth .... It is not boring at all! I watch the show from the fourth row, then from the first row, from the right wing, from the left, from the back rows. Something is happening to me....

Then I had to get used to the idea that the Small Theater is not only about William Shakespeare, but Richard Bach as well. The first viewing of "Jonathan Livingston Seagull" shook me with the same impeccable characteristics, depth and ease of prescription of images and brilliant Director's findings. Only a few actors from "SHAKE" are involved in "Seagull", but apart from them – a dozen of energetic young boys and girls. Here is my second "Seagull", the third, the fourth.... What is happening to me?...

The third performance I was going to watch should have been "Pierrot" after the novel by Guy de Maupassant, beloved and highly acclaimed by many, but due to a force majeure situation we left without the show that evening after waiting outside for one hour and a half. Therefore, the next for me was the "Ne Me Quitte Pas" ("Do not leave me"), based on the famous song by Jacques Brel, translated into two dozen languages (including Armenian), and recorded in even more number of versions. Some of them – different in arrangement and performance, but with a common thematic core – inspired the Director to come up with various scenic solutions so sensitively traced and flawlessly performed by our beloved actors. What is it that is happening to me?!...

And here is the fourth of the performances played at the Small Theatre this year, the long-awaited "Pierrot". Again, a large troupe composed of young boys and girls, each of them being a standalone picture, bright (even if gray) identities with their characters, habits, mannerisms, pros and cons, be that human or animal. And if in "Shakespeare" we are enchanted by the scenes consonant with the visuals of Tarsem Singh and embellished with the music of Trent Reznor, Katie Melua and other famous musicians, in "Livingston" we feel ourselves being a part of the Truth, manifested in gulls’ minds and spoken by them, and in "Do not leave me" people sitting in rows are sobbing and wipe off their tears stealthily when they hear the words "leave "," love", "mother", "home", "family", in "Pierrot" we are laughing unrestrained most of the time, and only for a few minutes become silent, as if ruled by a magic wand, instantly realizing the depth of the tragedy, so naturally shown by these pure personalities – the actors of the Small Theatre. And we are crying. Again and again, even if we know by heart all the lines, spoken by actors.

So, that's what is happening to me! I shed tears. The tears of varying specificity. Tears of joy of realizing our greatness; bitter tears of knowing the mistakes – both our own and others'; tears of Love, leading us through darkening corridors of life; tears of laughter born out of subtle jokes and vivid images; tears of memories and losses; unexplained tears caused by vibrations of the soul strings, resonating with the music we've heard, sigh we've noticed, scene we've just seen.

All performances are so different, but they have a special common core: they are beautiful, and they go deep into the soul. And the performances are played by the actors. Or I’d rather said Artists? Or maybe... just people who love what they can do well, who see just how much their work is important to the viewer (I boldly go ahead and say "city", "country", "nation") and who are able to show feelings and invisibly play on the strings of our souls? And maybe all of the above? And we – the audience, continuing visiting those mental therapy sessions, giving standing ovations, looking at each other and seeing smiles on our tear-stained faces – we will no longer do anything wrong on this particular evening and by the end of this day! We won’t be able to, because our souls have already been healed during that evening by these wonderful young people who have just started their career, yet already play such an important role in the life of our society.

Each of us has definite priceless talent, but alas, not all of us feel them, and some of those who do know not how to use them. Sometimes so little is necessary to do – just to open a door and to invite to come in (like it happened in my case when I was invited to attend the performance). And there, inside, in this magical place called Theater, miracles begin to develop. Yes, hardly they will show up by themselves. There must be someone who knows what to do, and how. In the theater, such a man is called the Artistic Director, or Director.

It’s not only me who calls Vahan Badalyan "the magician." Many people agree with me, and, above all, they agree with themselves. After all, if you do not believe in something, then no matter how much you are told about the someone’s point of view – you are not going to accept it! Having felt the effect of what is happening on the stage to the matter of the soul we determine for ourselves the form which we will operate with when telling others about that. I, for example, chose to say "He is a Magician!". I like this option, because it seems to me the most authentic. How else can I call a person, not concentrating public’s attention on the shortcomings (both mental and physical) inherent to all, seeing the talent in the child, understanding how to summon it and to develop, how to bring into the group of many others like him or her, and to the miracle called "Theatre", how to learn to play such roles without affecting their psyche, gently explaining and developing such important concepts as "work", "love", "beauty", "friendship", "happiness". Happiness! Happiness of working and creating, of loving and being loved, of being beautiful in every respect, the most important of which is the spiritual beauty, happiness of being able to say "I have a friend," and to know the price of the friendship, happiness to consider oneself deserving to be happy? How to describe a person reaching the harmony by using "the material not intended for harmony", like our society often speaks about people with disabilities?! Magician – and that's it!

Too much words for today, I think…. The saying goes, "better to see something once than hear about it hundred times". So, trust His Majesty the Chance, select one of the performances of the Small Theatre and attend it. Sit down, listen, look, and maybe you will want to come back to that place. And again. And again. I think this theatre-studio will be the cradle of our common future to some extent. Those children are honoured to carry the charge of happiness and love with them and to illuminate the road not only for themselves, but also for all of us. The Director does not make any experiment. He once again proves that in every person there is a particle of the Light that can guide us through life and illuminate our path.

But is it necessary to prove that at all? Is not this a common truth? Proving, perhaps, not worth it, reminding about it from time to time you can. And since this is done in such a wonderful way, then, I believe, it is even necessary. At least, for me it was at the time when, by happy coincidence, by chance, an important meeting occasionally happened. Maybe I had to wait for this occasion all these years? Or maybe I needed to mature for this? And maybe this was not by chance at all? Then what is it? What is happening to me? Probably, this is a kind of Magic again...

I'm still with Kronos Quartet....

Most likely I won’t be able to describe in a worthy manner what I was feeling during the Kronos Quartet that happened in the Yerevan Opera Theatre on 29^th of April this year. I won’t be able because, as someone said many years ago (and they are still trying to find out who exactly and when) – "Talking about music is like dancing about architecture". One had to be there to feel it. I succeeded in describing concerts in the past, and maybe I will in the future, but this specific one was different.

To find a way out of this situation I decided to bring in the list of the works they performed that night, supporting them with short comments and some YouTube links. Some of them are studio recordings, others played live, sometimes even played by previous line-up. With this I am hoping to create at least some idea on what happened on that night.

1. Bryce Dessner - Aheym (Homeward) (link)

Nerve from A to Z. Basically, that was enough for the audience to understand who they deal with.

2. Laurie Anderson (arr. Jacob Garchik) - Flow (link)

Honey to one’s soul. So quiet, so calm.

3. Nicole Lizee - Death to Kosmische (link)

The audience expands not only their sights on Kronos Quartet, but on music in general.

4. Geeshie Wiley (arr. Jacob Garchik) - Last Kind Words (link)

They introduced this title as a “song”, but damn!, they performed it like a song!

5. Ramallah Underground (arr. Jacob Garchik) - Tashweesh (link)

This piece is still somewhere in my sub-consciousness.

6. Clint Mansell (arr. David. Lang) - Lux Aeterna (from Requiem for a Dream) (link)

I could not even dream to listen this live performed by them! This theme takes me by the throat each time I hear it, starting from the very first time, although it did not deal with “Requiem for a Dream” movie (that was a trailer to “The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers”).

7. Terry Riley - Good Medicine (from Salome Dances for Peace) (link)

I listen to it and I see myself running down the green fields and up the hills, then don in the valleys, butterflies around me.... Good Medicine – the title speaks for itself!

Intermission

8. Vladimir Martynov - The Beautitudes (link)

Relief, peace, tranquility, light... This is the music one would want to listen to in his or her last minutes.

9. Mary Kouyoumdjian - Silent Cranes (World Premiere, hence no link for this one)

i. Slave to Your Voice

ii. You Did Not Answer

iii. [With Blood Soaked Feathers]

iv. You Flew Away

As it was mentioned above, it was world premiere of “Silent Cranes”. Her author Mary Kouyoumdjian is one of those who were selected through the Kronos: Under 30 Project. This 35-minute long composition in 4 parts is homage in memory of the victims of the Armenian Genocide of 1915. A special video has been prepared for it – collage of photographs, ornamental patterns, drawings. The performance was also supported with the voices of the eyewitnesses telling about those tragic times.

Maybe the first piece of the second half (see above) was perfectly chosen, maybe it was due to the video, maybe our history speaks in us, or maybe something else, but this composition was something bigger that just something played by Kronos Quartet. Many people later told me that there were moments when they were forgetting about some four people playing something on the stage, and that those are them who flood the huge hall with music and emotions with their two violins, alto and cello. By the way, our audience has significantly grown up as compared to what I saw eleven years ago. Today there was no noise, no distracting chatter, no indignant snobs, no cynical jokes.... There was no place for that here!

And when the last fourth part of the “Cranes” ended I witnessed the Magic, on which I nevertheless wrote a comment on Kronos Quartet Facebook page, wrote all I could the next morning. Those were my pure emotions, which I am not going to rewrite now, four days later.

1,200 hall was packed.... in the end the lights went dim, the music echoed away, darkness fell on the stage and in the hall.... 5 seconds... 10 seconds..... 20..... SILENCE! not a single breath was heard.... not a single breath!.... a few more seconds..... lights slowly came back.... the Quartet frozen, and so are we...... not a single breath!..... The Quartet is gradually coming back to reality, and so are we..... SILENCE!.....

..............

And then the hall burst in standing ovation......

A True Masterpiece!

Just like it was the last time, we got an Encore. They performed mournful but so important at that moment “Wa Habibi”, thus bringing us back to the world from which we entered this hall.

But we were already different when we were exiting it.

Many many thanks to Lilia Margaryan for her “without whom it would never be” kind of help.

On Talents and Suicide

Along with celebrating my brother's birthday today, I will be remembering another event that happened on this day, October 9, back in 1992 - my first (big) live concert on the stage of the Big Hall of Yerevan (then) Polytechnic Institute (now State Engineering University of Armenia).

I was the bass-guitarist of “The Breeze” band then. The new and expanded line-up had been existing for two months already, and was ready to hit the stage by the beginning of October. Since clubbing life was at its embryonic stage, all our groups were aiming for one big concert, after which they normally went into euphoria. Not all of them thought about the need to go forward: some of them didn’t even make their second gig, but some did though, heading to another gig, and even moved to the recording studio.

I remember the first song, which actually lasted some four minutes, seemed endless to me! However, quite soon we got into the right way and we “made that night”. The gig went absolutely fantastic for those days, at the end of which our full line-up (9 musicians!) went on stage to perform Kiddy Jones (five "electric" musicians + string quartet). It is important to mention that our line-up was changing constantly on the stage. We presented electric quartet (with our drummer on vocals), electric quintet (with our lead vocalist), electro-acoustic quartet, a guitar solo-composition played on 12-string guitar and sung by Arsen, string quartet + 12-string guitar, string quartet + electric quintet, and ended up with a song, sung in three voices accompanied by grand piano/bass/drums trio. And we were called out for an encore!

What happened after we played Kiddy Jones song – oh, it worth that all! I still can see in front of my eyes that overcrowded hall through the stage with all of us standing still with shivers running down our spines. They were all applauding and cheering us up, asking for more. I even got a present from an unknown girl – a book that is still with me. And it went in harmony with all that happened on stage and in our hearts in those days. We were then writing our own music, improving ourselves, we had our dreams.

But then, reality started telling its rules, so many of our good musicians ended their musical lives up through suicide. It became difficult to create something, unfashionable, unprofitable... Ah, creating! It always means “giving”, doesn’t it? But the musicians already started to want to get. So, having some bargain with our Dream, we decided to continue our creative union in a new, commercial way. And he wave reached some success, however the overall spirit of our work was already different. But, as for many other Talents, we missed something to bring this work to its end.

Arsen, who is the author of most of the songs, continued his relations with music, however today his talent is being wasted, in my personal opinion, on “things” like this.

I find it hard to call this music, hence the “thing” word is used. No-no, I do not contest the genius of this McCartney composition in any way... But this is McCartney, and it could have been Adonts instead! Without any doubts, he can sing and play, and for sure, he does it quite well, but... we have probably lost a lot of good songs during the past years, for he could “pick them out of thin air” and bring them into this world.

Soon I will be telling the world about my activity I have been occupied with for almost two years. It correlates very well with all I’ve wrote here today, and I hope I am not doing this in vain. I was also granted with something, something I do now want to kill in myself. And I want to be sure that the Universe that maintains the balance of all things, will not let Arsen’s Talent fall into Oblivion...

Eh, probably some other guy or girl on this planet was already granted with the same talent and s/he will soon make our lives brighter with a new Song.

P.S. By the way, here is an example of the songs Arsen was able to write that I was talking about: