Araz Kojayan
A dentist by profession, Dr. Armenag Yeghiayan was also an educator, linguist, literary scholar, and author of textbooks. My own formation in the Armenian language and literature began through the "Dziadzan" (Rainbow) textbooks he prepared. Before I came to know him personally, he was, for me, the little boy pictured on the cover of the "Dziadzan," trying to reach the seven balloons released into the sky. This changed the day my parents took me to his clinic, located in his family home in the "Cilicia" neighborhood. The image of the little boy was replaced by that of the "dentist with shelves full of books," for the volumes lining his clinic's waiting room made a greater impression on my childhood imagination than his own appearance.
Tamar Gürciyan
The reason I bring this up is because, at the event held at Yesayan Salon in recent weeks, the Surp Asdvadzadzin Cathedral was presented as "a magnificent example of Balyan architecture in Anatolia." Furthermore, I believe that the statement I read in “Anadolu Kültür”’s post-earthquake assessment report—that ‘’This building, […] designed by Sarkis Balyan on a much larger scale, includes an attempt to implement a three-level gallery.”’—needs to be re-examined. Indeed, when I read in Elmon Hançer's latest interview with Agos that the building's plan was enlarged by 1.5 times by Sarkis Balyan, I felt the need to open this issue up for discussion.
Lerna Babikyan
Ecosomatic practices, which are also experiential learning practices, are being widely used globally by experts in various fields—in addition to dance—such as psychology, education, art therapy, healing architectural design, and climate activism. This is because they develop skills like sensory awareness and empathy, and can help re-establish the lost connection with the 'Other.'
Araz Kojayan
One hot summer afternoon, my father asked me to bring back “one kilo of almonds,” (noush in Armenian). I was to try our local grocers first, but if I couldn't find any, I had permission to go to Nor Marash. My wish had finally been granted. That day, I gained the opportunity to cross the avenue that was otherwise off-limits to my nine-year-old self. I entered the first shop with enthusiasm. Noticing that no one was speaking Armenian, I simply said, “Baddi kilo noush” (one kilo of noush in Arabic), not realizing that “noush” was not an Arabic word.
Aylin Vartanyan
Talin Suciyan
Photographs showing Armenian women with long, braided hair were mostly taken before 1915. After that date, in cities such as Aleppo, Beirut, Jerusalem, Alexandria, Cyprus, Syros, Athens, Piraeus, and elsewhere, surviving Armenian women, orphans and widows alike, appear with their hair cut short or completely shaved. The hair of children, in particular, was often shaven off. Cutting the hair of women and young girls was seen as a precaution against an invisible threat.