By Ishmael von Heidrick-Barnes
April 24, 2015 marks the 100th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. The solemn observation marks the systematic slaughter of 1.5 million men, women, and children perpetrated under the camouflage of World War I by officials of the Ottoman Empire, which is present day Turkey. Many world leaders are going against the historical shroud of silence that has hung over these atrocities for a century.
It’s ironic that much of the same Syrian desert where America and her Allies claim to be fighting a war against terror is also a mass grave for hundreds of thousands of people of Armenian descent in what is now called “the first genocide of the 20th century.”
On April 12, 2015, Pope Francis offered a special liturgy in Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome marking the tragic events. Then, on April 15 in Brussels, Belgium, the EU Parliament passed a resolution recognizing the Armenian genocide, after which Parliament members observed a moment of silence for the victims of the mass killings. In Berlin, Chancellor Angela Merkel announced the German government would draft a resolution commemorating the Armenian Genocide, after some initial reluctance to refer to the slaughter as “genocide.” On April 24, the Eiffel Tower in Paris will dim its lights in acknowledgement of the centennial commemorations.
On April 22, 2015, President Barack Obama announced he was not going to refer to the massacre as “genocide,” bowing to pressure from the present government of Turkey, one of America’s key allies in the so called “war on terror.” President Obama’s decision not to call genocide, “genocide,” throws another handful of dirt upon the United States’ self-proclaimed role as leader of the free world. The President’s refusal to call a spade a spade further buries the crimes of a murderous regime and sends a message to any country engaged in genocide that the United States might look the other way when it’s in our interest to do so.
It’s ironic that much of the same Syrian desert where America and her Allies claim to be fighting a war against terror is also a mass grave for hundreds of thousands of people of Armenian descent in what is now called “the first genocide of the 20th century.”
Where can the citizens of a country turn to for plain spoken facts when their leaders fail to lead? Throughout human history, art has been one avenue to the truth.
Turkey has refused to acknowledge the Armenian genocide and presently continues an aggressive campaign to cover up the crimes committed in its past manifestation as the Ottoman Empire. It has re-written its own history and altered its written language in order to evade reconciliation and justice. In 1928, the Turkish government altered the official alphabet script from the Arabic to Latin letters, which scholars now recognize as an effort to combat examinations into the government sponsored killings. As late as 2005, Article 301 of the Turkish Penal Code made it illegal for any residents of its country to give credence to the Armenian genocide.
It’s a sad day when an American President colludes with a foreign government’s diabolical campaign of denial of crimes against humanity. Where can the citizens of a country turn to for plain spoken facts when their leaders fail to lead? Throughout human history, art has been one avenue to the truth. Where would civilization be today if artists had not sacrificed their lives in order to speak for those silenced, literally and figuratively, by society?
In September of 2013, I met Tatiana Ferahian, a world-renowned Armenian-Cypriot artist who was born in Lebanon. At the time of our introduction at an art residency in Connecticut called “I-Park,” I didn’t realize the depth of Tatiana’s work and the full scope of her creative career.
When she was a child, Tatiana fled war-torn Lebanon for the relative safety of Cyprus. The island of Cyprus was invaded by Turkey in 1974 and remains divided between the Turks and Greek Cypriots. Tatiana’s maternal family is of Armenian descent and much of her artistic work spills out of the wounds of war. When Ms. Ferahian’s mother traveled to the Zor Desert in Syria and brought back human remains from the Armenian genocide, Tatiana incorporated the bones into an hourglass-shaped sculpture entitled, “Time Capsule.”
In a country of fast food and bitterly divided economics, greed and its man-made engine of scarcity preoccupy our lives and proliferate much of the world’s violence. In the Mediterranean, the sharing of a meal can heal harmful divisions and misunderstandings.
Over the years, Tatiana has devoted much of her time and talent to raising public awareness about the Armenian genocide, as well as to the scars that all survivors of violent conflicts must live with daily. Her latest installation will be unveiled May 18, 2015, in Anzio, Italy, at a biennial of contemporary art called, “Shingle22j.” This exhibition seeks to reinforce the bond between the historical Battle of Anzio and art: “a new landing revolving around friendship, beauty, and love, as well as serving as a platform for intercultural debate and freedom of expression.”
The theme for the 5th Edition of Shingle22 is “Bon Appétit.” Anyone who has had the good fortune of traveling throughout the Mediterranean region knows the important role food plays in culture. In many Southern European countries, businesses shut down for several hours in the afternoon for what is the main meal of the day. In nations like Italy, France, and Greece, families and friends gather around tables to enjoy a feast of physical and spiritual sustenance. “Food is a celebration of life,” a culinary sanctuary for communication that strengthens the individual’s connection to the larger community.
To the average American instilled with the Puritan Work Ethic since childhood, sitting down to a lengthy meal in the middle of the day might be considered anathema. In a country of fast food and bitterly divided economics, greed and its man-made engine of scarcity preoccupy our lives and proliferate much of the world’s violence. In the Mediterranean, the sharing of a meal can heal harmful divisions and misunderstandings.
Tatiana Ferahian will transform the city of Anzio into a nest of hope with her installation entitled, “25 Grams of Rice: Food for Thought.” Over a period of five months, Ms. Ferahian has managed to create beauty out of unspeakable horror and symmetry from the chaos of violence.
It took five months for Tatiana to meticulously create a spiral of nearly three hundred birds signifying the survivors of the Armenian genocide. Her labor of love will soon soar above Anzio. Each bird has been painstakingly drawn, cut, and stitched together from fragile paper and spoon-fed with 25 grams of rice. Tatiana has shaped the white wings in several postures of flight, suggesting the diverse unity of the Armenian culture. Ms. Ferahian has managed to delicately balance each individual bird’s path with the whole. The results give her installation a graceful sense of movement.
When confronted with the inspiration behind the artist’s work, I was stunned by the juxtaposition of utter devastation and resilience. Although America did not intervene to put a halt to the Armenian genocide carried out by the Ottoman Empire, at least it was not silent. Henry Morgenthau, Sr., the United States ambassador to the Ottoman Empire, solicited relief funds for survivors. The ambassador set up the “Near East Relief Effort,” which prompted other U.S. citizens to get involved.
Americans Samuel C. Lancaster and J.J. Handsaker, largely forgotten by history, saved countless survivors. The two men from Oregon used a tiny bottle containing 25 grams of rice to raise awareness and money on behalf of children orphaned by the mass killings. At the time of the massacres, 7/8 of an once or 25 grams of rice was the average daily ration for one Armenian orphan in the refugee relief camps. The efforts of these two American philanthropists not only provided food for hungry Armenian children, they gave Ms. Ferahian the “food for thought,” which inspired her installation for the 5th Edition of Shingle22.
Tatiana Ferahian’s work has hung in galleries and outdoor installations from Beijing to New York and Athens. Although she has earned numerous accolades and prizes, she remains modest about her successes. Awards and public admiration are not the motivation behind her work. Her patient and nurturing creation of each handcrafted bird for the Italian installation is a testament to her dedication to the Armenian people. I believe this outdoor exhibition will be her finest work to date.
In addition to the loss of lives, genocide wipes out the cultural heritage and history of a people. The Armenian genocide erased many artifacts important to the identity of a unique and ancient civilization. The eradication of the individual, as well as the collective stories and art of the Armenian people occurred in a time before the internet and the proliferation of digital cameras. Although some films, documents, and art have survived the Ottoman Empire’s attempts to eviscerate the Armenian people and their traditions, we are likely to remain in the dark to the totality of what was lost.
Artists who forget the mechanized forces of cultural destruction are at risk of being droned into the static noise of corporate sponsored famine and war.
It would be easy to remain bitter or frozen by the faces of the murdered which haunt the survivors and their descendents. Tatiana Ferahian has bravely looked in the eyes of those silenced forever and transformed the energy of outrage into a new cultural identity for the Armenian people. In spite of the horror, Ms. Ferahian’s art isn’t stained by justified anger or resentment. She propels us toward the possibility of living with wounds most of us cannot imagine.
Her work suggests that injuries that are bitterly scratched open again and again might hemorrhage into renewed violence. The incessant wars we see around the world today are evidence that she is correct. Peace is a process. Tatiana Ferahian’s art is a map of transparency, accountability, and tolerance that I wish President Obama could have seen before deciding not to acknowledge the Armenian genocide for what it is: Genocide.
In an age I call, “the globalization of greed,” Tatiana is an example of a rare breed of the artist/activist. The power of art to affect positive change in the world has often been dismissed. Over the past two decades, America’s academic inflation of the sciences at the expense of the arts has gone largely unchallenged. The long history of art pays homage to its transformative nature and documents the downfall of many civilizations that paid dearly for its erosion.
Art cannot afford to take the politically correct or popular stances of the masses. It demeans itself whenever it allies itself to the status quo. It must constantly challenge and push the borders of human expression in order to remain meaningful. Artists who forget the mechanized forces of cultural destruction are at risk of being droned into the static noise of corporate sponsored famine and war.
If you have the opportunity to visit Italy this May, go to Anzio and walk beneath Tatiana Ferahian’s vision of hope. Art is activism and Ms. Ferahian’s winged soul is every artist’s inspiration. Her elegant work provides the sustenance humanity desperately needs to survive itself.
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I can proudly scream from top of my lung, TATIANA FERAHIAN
is my beautiful talented niece. Ask about her other art works, they
are out of this world.
I saw that Obama said he would be referring to the Armenian genocide
as “an atrocity.”
great article and a great artist who happens to be my sister! Xxxx