ARMENIAN REPORTER
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October 27, 2007 — From the Arts & Culture section
To see the printed version of the newspaper, complete with photographs
and additional content, visit and download the pdf
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1. Folk: Mariam Matossian and the songs that inspire her (by Naush Boghossian)
2. Theater: Vahe Berberian to direct Baron Garbis (by Alene Tchekmedyian)
* Berberian’s new drama explores the relationships between men of
three generations
3. Television: ABC’s Extreme Makeover features J.S. Hovnanian (by Alex Janoyan)
* Late Jirair Hovnanian’s firm does it in four days
* "It’s man helping man," for reality television
4. Reality television and the realities of television (by Shahan Sanossian)
* A conversation with executive producer Michael Agbabian
5. Arpa International Film Festival, at age 10, to showcase the best
of Armenian cinema
* 115 films to be screened next weekend at the Egyptian Theater
6. Poetry Matters: Markarian, nature, and what poetry gives (by Lory Bedikian)
7. Film: Abkarian, Metwally join Oscar winners in Rendition
8. My Words: Straightforward, intuitive, scientific, and poetic (by
Patrick Azadian)
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1. Folk: Mariam Matossian and the songs that inspire her
by Naush Boghossian
VANCOUVER — Mariam Matossian — who will release a second CD of
Armenian songs on October 27 — learned from her mother traditional
Armenian folk songs that had been passed down to her by her own
mother. Mariam sees her albums as a way to convey the rich history of
her people to a larger audience.
Even the process of picking which songs she would include on her
second album, In the Light, was a family project, involving the
suggestions of her family — and pretty much anybody with an opinion.
But Matossian found that choosing a song for her CD often happened
spontaneously. Her mother would start to sing an old folk song,
Matossian would fall in love with the melody, and the historical
legacy would continue its progress from one generation to the next.
"I remember one time, I was performing at a festival and my whole
family was there," Matossian said. "My aunts and mom started singing
this old folk song. I just loved it and it is on the album."
Matossian will introduce her audience to the songs of Into the Light
at a concert in Vancouver on October 27. The event coincides with the
release of the album, which includes her interpretation of traditional
Armenian folk songs as well as a handful of original compositions.
A former high school teacher and counselor in the Vancouver area,
Matossian released her first CD, Far from Home, in 2004. It celebrated
traditional Armenian music by incorporating instruments like the oud
and duduk.
"I just had this yearning, this sense in my heart that I had to
preserve our songs in the best way possible," she said in a 2004
interview about what prompted her to record her first CD.
The little girl who sang in church choirs, in school choirs, at
community events and at home with her mom and aunts, grew up to share
her story through song — a story of faith, resilience, and hope.
Now three years after the release of Far from Home, Matossian says
she’s grown as an artist, and the growth is reflected in her new
album.
"Touring with the first album gave me this incredible opportunity to
perform and grow as a vocalist and to work with amazing musicians from
whom I learned so much," she said. "I was able to experiment on stage
with improvisation, taking new risks with my voice. This new album
definitely reflects that growth in my artistry."
But she also wanted her new album to be more acoustic and "even more
vulnerable," she said.
"I wanted to showcase the beauty of each instrument more, so you’ll
hear the violins, the oud; the percussion have moments where they are
in the spotlight and they just shine," she said.
Matossian, who has recorded an English song for another artist, said
her passion still lies in her Armenian music. She doesn’t, however,
rule out recording an English-language album in the future.
But now, it is her desire to honor her grandparents that fuels her
passion for singing.
The story of her grandparents is a deep inspiration to her. They
persevered through the massacres but never lost their faith in God.
They met and married years later to live a life filled with hope.
"There is just something so meaningful, so special about the
Armenian language to me. I am passionate about the language, I love
our culture, I love speaking the language, I love singing in
Armenian," she said.
"I want to honor my heritage with my albums…. So for now, this is
my passion — to sing in my language and share the beauty of our
culture with others."
While Matossian would love to record another album, she has her eye
on pursuing humanitarian projects close to her heart.
She and her husband share a passion for young people and they would
like to influence them to live a life with integrity and to realize
their full potential.
Matossian recalls meeting an Armenian boy in his late teens after
one of her concerts. He told her how distraught he was that most of
his childhood friends were doing drugs and how he was struggling not
to fall in that lifestyle.
"I would like to use my love of music, of public speaking and
teaching to speak to young people and motivate them to positive
action," she said. "We see young people who are doing some amazing
things … and then on the flip side, we see many young people who are
headed in the wrong direction, even in our Armenian circles, with
drugs and alcohol and setting lower standards for themselves.
"We are compelled to challenge and motivate and inspire young people
in any way we can."
Also, since she and her husband worked and volunteered in Armenia on
several occasions before they met, they are aware of the plight of
orphans, street children, and schools.
So they would like to work with agencies, missions and organization
that help young people, families, schools, teachers, and faith-based
organizations.
But she will also continue to explore ways to introduce
non-Armenians to the rich culture, history and traditions of
Armenians.
"The chance to share our story with people who have never heard
about our history is a privilege," Matossian said. "And I would like
to continue in this work — to be able to share our story with people
who are not familiar with Armenian culture."
connect:
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2. Theater: Vahe Berberian to direct Baron Garbis
* Berberian’s new drama explores the relationships between men of
three generations
by Alene Tchekmedyian
LOS ANGELES — As he holds his hands toward his face, his expressive
eyes peeking in between his animated fingers, Vahe Berberian says, "I
want the audience to feel that they are hiding in Baron Garbis’s
living room."
On January 17, in the intimate Whitefire Theater on Ventura
Boulevard, fans will tap into the lives of three male kin of three
generations to learn about family secrets and explore relationships in
playwright and director Berberian’s new drama, Baron Garbis. In
Berberian’s words, it is "very true to life. It’s almost neorealism
because of the way it’s written, performed, and directed."
Depicting the interactions between a man, Garbis, his overbearing
son, Gerard, and his rebellious grandson, Khajag, Baron Garbis
illustrates 21st-century Armenian family members living in Los
Angeles.
Chris Bedian, who plays Khajag, says, "I can relate to my character;
he is basically the Armenian-American of our generation, who can’t
speak fluent Armenian, but wants to. He has a huge curiosity towards
Garbis and wants to be like him."
There is comedic relief in the way Khajag speaks Armenian, "He’s
trying, but he doesn’t know the words," Bedian explains. Khajag has
more in common with Garbis, who Bedian says, "has always physically
taken action to do things, whereas his father is an intellectual.
That’s where the conflicts start."
The talented cast members, all friends or relatives of Berberian’s,
have created a tight-knit performing community that extends beyond
dictating lines and playing character roles. "You’re not really
acting," Bedian explains. "It’s a real play. You are becoming more
than just acting."
Maurice Kouyoumjian, who plays Baron Garbis, and Berberian have an
artistic history dating decades, back to their days in Lebanon.
Berberian states, "We became very close and we stuck together for
forty years." Rehearsal has an informal and relaxed air to it because
of the familiar participants.
Berberian admits, "For me it’s very exciting because these people
are my friends and after so many years of a hiatus, this is something
that’s keeping me on my toes." Raising his eyebrows, he adds, "I hope
that I can still feel the pulse of the people."
* Bonding over food
Before each rehearsal, the group prepares with a meal.
Culture laces the air, as the Armenian language flows freely and the
scent of garlic fills the kitchen; the theatrical family gathers in
Berberian’s home, also the scene of rehearsal, setting the intimate
table with authentic Armenian cuisine. Sako Berberian, who plays
Gerard, charmingly claims, "It’s a ritual before Saturday rehearsal.
We have some sort of meal. It serves to bond the troop." There is a
certain synergy among the members of the ensemble that creates a
pleasant working environment.
Berberian notes that Baron Garbis evolved out of another play he was
writing for an American theater company. "This character somehow found
his way into the play and never left. After a while, I decided I
should write in the language of the character himself. The play wrote
itself in a way."
When asked if his art would be hanging in Baron Garbis’ living room,
Berberian laughs, "No, I don’t think Baron Garbis has very
sophisticated taste."
The entire process, however, was not easy for Berberian. When
casting actors for his characters, he noticed a lack of young actors
able to fulfill his expectations, considering the play is written and
meant to be performed in Armenian. He says with disappointment, "It’s
a sore note; I think that the language is in decline because of our
condition in the diaspora. It took us so long to find two kids who
spoke Armenian, read Armenian, and did theater. It was a huge task. So
many young actors wanted to do the part phonetically."
* State of the art
Bedian shares Berberian’s concern. "Armenian literacy is going down,"
he says with concern. "If you can’t speak the language, how are you
going to keep the culture around?"
Another force working against Berberian’s aspirations for Armenian
theater is a lack of contemporary Armenian plays and theater
companies. He says, "If you have a good theater company, you would
have people who will make attempts in writing plays for that theater
company because they are inspired to produce; or it’s the other way
around. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one feeds off the other.
Unfortunately, we have not been able to create that symbiotic
relationship."
Depending on the outcome of this particular project, however,
Berberian may expand his work in theater. "My art would suffer," he
laughs, referring to his paintings, "but this community is big enough
to support a good theater company. I would hope that the company
itself would sustain different directors and producers instead of
being dependent on just my work."
Passion for theater was instilled in Berberian at a young age. After
acting in a school production at age 14, Berberian realized, he says,
"everything that I love is in here. There is music. There is the
written word. There is acting, which I love, and there is composition,
painting. All the facets I love are in the theater, and on top of
that, there is the crazy social life."
A certain attachment grows among people working within the intimacy
of the performing arts, as Berberian states, "Only a person who knows
the theater appreciates that closeness, that camaraderie, that comes
with it." Those involved in the production of Baron Garbis cherish
their companionship.
The group will be hosting two gala nights, by invitation only.
Sponsors, who become "friends" of Baron Garbis, will have the
opportunity to attend.
Berberian hopes that the play will trigger certain reactions in his
audience: "I’m hoping that it will entertain the audience. I don’t
mean make them laugh, but keep them awake, and also make them think
and feel. As a playwright, I am not there to answer questions, I am
there to pose questions."
connect:
Barongarbis.com
(818) 981-6725
* * *
Dates: January 17, 2008 to March 9, 2008
Every Thursday, Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 6 p.m.
Location: Whitefire Theater, 13500 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks, Calif.
818-990-2324
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3. Television: ABC’s Extreme Makeover features J.S. Hovnanian
* Late Jirair Hovnanian’s firm does it in four days
* "It’s man helping man," for reality television
by Alex Janoyan
PENNSAUKEN, N.J. — The popular ABC-TV show Extreme Makeover: Home
Edition recently contacted east coast Armenian homebuilders J.S.
Hovnanian & Sons to build a $350,000 house for Victor Marrero, a
single father of five — for free.
The Marrero family was featured on ABC’s 20/20 in an episode
profiling the life of youth who live in poverty in cities such as
Camden, N.J. Through strength and perseverance, the family stayed out
of trouble and worked together to survive. Victor Marrero was
unemployed due to a serious heart condition and he, along with his
sons, had been doing everything within their means to come up with
rent money for their one-bedroom apartment in Camden City, where the
six of them shared three mattresses.
Victor takes pride in the fact that none of his children has turned
to drugs or gang involvement — although it is a prevalent part of
their surroundings.
In early May, the show’s producers chose the Marreros. They quietly
lined up the necessary building permits. They contacted J.S. Hovnanian
& Sons to build the $350,000 house after reviewing many builders in
the area. And looking at their recent track record, it’s no wonder
why. J.S. Hovnanian — founded by the late Jirair Hovnanian — won
three J.D. Power and Associates awards in the last four years for
"Highest in Customer Satisfaction for New-Home Builders" and was
presented with "Community of the Year" award for their Carriage Homes
community at Rancocas Pointe, N.J., by the New Jersey Builders
Association.
The challenge was to complete construction of a 2,800 square foot
home in 106 hours. As a company actively involved in giving back to
the community, J.S. Hovnanian met the challenge head on. "We jumped at
the chance," spokesperson Garo Hovnanian said.
The producers of Extreme Makeover informed J.S. Hovnanian that the
Marrero family was not to be contacted until all the final
preparations were done. This served as quite a challenge when
approaching various contractors to ask them for their voluntary
involvement.
Once all the planning was done, the Marrero family was contacted and
told they were awarded a trip to a Disney resort in Spain and upon
their return would have a brand-new home to come to.
A job of this size would normally take around four months to
complete. The principles Stephen and Peter Hovnanian assembled a team
of 3,000 individuals spanning over 200 companies in order reach their
goal.
"This is a wonderful family and the father has made it a priority to
provide the best morals and ethics to his children in a very
challenging environment. Because of him, these boys are excelling
despite their surroundings. He is their inspiration and their role
model," Stephen Hovnanian said. "Now we need to help them. It’s man
helping man and it’s wonderful to see everyone unite for a common
goal."
After six days of nonstop construction, not only did they complete
the home, but they did so ten hours earlier than anticipated. Team
leader Ty Pennington with his design team oversaw many of the
operations. Hundreds of volunteers were assigned to 12- to 14-hour
shifts, but would choose to stay longer to ensure the job was
completed in time. On average, one full day’s work was compacted into
one hour’s time.
Looking back, Peter Hovnanian stated, "This week truly proved that
‘TEAM’ stands for ‘Together, Everyone Achieves More.’ We accepted the
challenge because we were confident in our team and our trade
partners, and they certainly made us proud, pouring their hearts and
souls into this project. This experience has deeply changed all of our
lives, not just Victor’s and his family’s." When considering J.S.
Hovnanian & Sons have built thousands of homes in their 40 years of
involvement in South Jersey, it’s evident the project was unlike any
other they have experienced.
The show will air on Saturday November 11 on ABC.
connect:
HovHomesExtreme.blogspot.com
***** ************************************************** ********************
4. Reality television and the realities of television
* A conversation with executive producer Michael Agbabian
by Shahan Sanossian
LOS ANGELES — Michael Agbabian has been involved in the production of
many popular nonscripted television programs over the last few years.
He has worked as a supervising producer on Weakest Link, Test the
Nation, and Last Comic Standing and as a co-executive producer on Hit
Me Baby One More Time, Gameshow Marathon, and Project Runway. His most
recent project, Phenomenon, premiered on NBC on Wednesday, October 24.
We sit down to talk in Agbabian’s home in the San Fernando Valley
about a week before the premiere. He is hospitable and animated;
though, it is clear he has been working long hours. He communicates in
a quick, nonlinear fashion that seems demonstrative of the
multitasking involved in his work. But what exactly does an executive
producer do? We’ve all seen the credits roll down our TV screens, but
few of us know much about the job.
"The best way I could describe it is that the executive producer is
like the CEO of a little company," Agbabian tells me. "Imagine you
start a company. You hire everybody. You run it. And then at the end,
you let everybody go. Then in a couple months, you do it again."
* A creative CEO
Agbabian and his business partner Dwight Smith have worked as a team
for over a decade. They recently signed a two-year deal with Granada
America, part of one of the largest television production companies in
the world. It is because of the Granada deal that they are
co-executive producers of Phenomenon.
"It’s like a creative CEO job. You have to always know about the
money, but you also have to have the creative vision, and you have to
convey your creative vision to your staff. And you have to [persuade]
the network that your vision is the way to go. The network is
ultimately the client, so to speak. You run your show like a CEO runs
a company." But it’s temporary. "When the show’s done it all goes
away." He tries to hire many of the same staff members for each show,
as long as the individual is right for the project. "That’s why when
they say it’s all about connections, when they talk about the
business, it is. Dwight and I like to bring on the same [staff] over
and over again. We know that they’ve performed for us in the past. We
know how they work; they know how we work."
Agbabian’s typical day begins around 10:00 a.m. and ends around 8:00
p.m., but often right before a program premieres, he can be found in
his office until midnight. "You’re part salesman, you’re part manager,
part accountant," he says. "You kind of have to do everything. I’m
literally pulled from one thing to another. I get in. I have phone
calls. I have meetings to discuss the format of the show, to discuss
the rundown of that particular episode. I get a briefing from the
producers of what’s going in that episode. I go down to the
post-production department to look at cuts. We have meetings with the
production side regarding where we are budgetarily, what we can afford
what we can’t afford.
"And there’s always a million crises." Out of ten contestants on his
new show, three are currently presenting unforeseen challenges. "One
is in the hospital; one has severe back problems; one had to fly back
to Belgium because a close friend died. Crisis management becomes a
big part of what an EP does."
* Is it real? Is it not?
Phenomenon is based on an Israeli show called The Successor, one of
the most successful television programs ever aired there. Hosted by
mentalist Uri Geller and illusionist Criss Angel, the show will search
for the next great mentalist. All of the contestants will perform for
a live television audience of millions, but one will be awarded the
title of Phenomenon and awarded a cash prize of $250,000.
"It’s not America Idol for magicians," Agbabian says. "It’s dark,
eerie, mysterious. We’re going a little edgy. There are things these
guys will do that will be somewhat life threatening. You’re not going
to see women chopped in half and white doves appearing out of scarves.
The show deals with magic of the mind: mind reading, telepathy,
telekinesis, mind over pain."
"What’s unique about our version of Successor," Agbabian tells me,
"is that Uri claims that his abilities are not necessarily a trick,
that he has these natural abilities to do the things he does. Criss is
the other side. Criss believes that everything is a trick; everything
is an illusion; nobody has any special psychic powers." The producers
are highlighting the different views and different styles of the two
men. "Criss is sort of the rock star magician. He’s the Hollywood kid
who runs around with starlets and goes clubbing. Uri is the gentleman.
"I don’t know what’s going to happen when the show airs and what
these guys are really going to say. We have some [performers] on our
show who do claim to have some true natural phenomenon that they can’t
explain. And there are others who don’t necessarily subscribe to that.
We’re adding an element of ‘Is it real? Is it not?’ We don’t have any
second takes. We don’t have any camera tricks, so what these guys do
is what these guys do. And we leave America to decide."
Does Agbabian agree with, Angel or Geller? "I’m a pretty big
skeptic," he says. "I do think that there is a lot of trickery to a
lot of what people do; however, I have second guessed a lot of my
skepticism, particularly with some of our guys. Dealing with them on a
day-to-day basis, without cameras and without an audience in front of
them, they do have an uncanny ability to read your mind, to read your
body language. I think that what they’ve ended up doing is refining
stuff that any of us can do. You can become an expert at reading body
language. You can become an expert in reading the way people talk
that, ultimately, can make you a mind reader. It’s just that they’ve
done it to a point of making it artful.
"It’s different than anything we’ve done," Agbabian says, referring
to his partnership with Smith. "We’re known to do game, variety, and
talent shows. That’s kind of our niche. This is a challenge, I think,
and I tend to like challenges. This will be a really different show,
so if we bomb, it’s not because we did the same thing and we just
didn’t do it really well. We did something completely different, and
people didn’t gravitate toward it. In some respects, I almost would
rather it be that, because then people will go, at least it wasn’t
another singing show."
* A USC man
Agbabian realized in high school that he was interested in film and
television. He attended the University of Southern California, where
he was accepted into the School of Cinematic Arts one of the top
programs in the nation during his junior year. "SC film school did two
great things," Agbabian tells me. First, it introduced him to many of
his peers in the industry with whom he still works. Second, it taught
him what he was bad at. "They want you to try everything," he says. "I
learned that I’m terrible at lighting, terrible at sound. I wasn’t
very good at editing, and I wasn’t that great of a director, but I
really liked to put stuff together." When he first went to college, he
was considering writing and directing. "At SC, I realized that
producing seems to be the right thing for me."
Though he found his calling at USC, finding success would be a more
difficult process. "As soon as you get out, you always have these
delusions of grandeur. Everybody’s going to want to hire me, but
that’s totally not the case." He worked at New Line Cinema for a while
in the mid-nineties before souring on film. "It takes forever to get
someone to buy [a film project]. It takes forever to get something
produced. So television seemed to be a more interesting way to go."
Although Agbabian didn’t end up working in film, his experience at
New Line was fortuitous. It was there, while they both toiled as
assistants, that he and Smith met. They began working together on
speculative projects, mostly game shows and variety shows. "And it so
happens," Agbabian says, "that was the time television was beginning
to go toward reality shows and nonscripted programs. So we happened to
hit."
* Nonscripted programs
Still, it took a few tries before the team was able to get a show on
the air. Photo Finish, their first try a scavenger hunt that took
place all over the city sold to Dick Clark but was never aired. They
worked on Celebrity Garage Sale and Get the Hell Out, "which was
basically a game show where a divorced couple plays games to win their
stuff," but both also never aired.
Their break finally arrived with Happy Hour, a variety show hosted
by Dweezil and Ahmet Zappa. It began airing on USA Network in the
spring of 1999 and featured the group "now know as Pussycat Dolls,
then was called the Bombshells."
"It was a great time," Agbabian tells me. "It was such a fun show to
put together, and we did some irreverent [things], you know
celebrities singing songs and playing stupid games." Agbabian and
Smith later worked as supervising producers on Last Comic Standing, a
talent show that pits stand-up comedians against each other until one
comes out victorious. "Last Comic was fun for a while and then wasn’t
that fun." Being a supervising producer is a tough job, according to
Agbabian, because it is a middle-management position. "You don’t have
the power to make decisions, but you have to oversee so much. You are
the true go-between for the executive producer and the rest of the
staff. The staff reports to you in some respects, but ultimately you
report to the EP. It’s a really thankless job. It’s like being an
executive vice president who doesn’t get the glory of the CEO. But you
have to do a lot of the same work."
Another break for Agbabian and Smith came when they were asked to
work on the finale and reunion shows for the first season of Project
Runway. They were contacted by the producers, whom they’d worked with
on Last Comic, a week before production began and had to complete the
episodes in a matter of days. But Agbabian and Smith were glad for the
opportunity; it was their first time executive producing. And the
structure they set up for the reunion is one that is still used on the
show and on Top Chef.
I ask Agbabian if he has any anecdotes to share about the
production. "Well," he hesitates for a moment. "I don’t know. Tim
[Gunn] is a consummate professional who really is very good at what he
does considering he’s not trained to do this. Heidi [Klum] is kind of
what you’d expect a supermodel to be. She’s very nice. I was surprised
that the nonprofessional was so together, so to speak, and the
professional needed a lot of hand holding. But to Heidi’s credit,
Heidi is not a trained host. She has language barriers. English is not
her first language. I give her props."
Agbabian is glad to have moved on to his current position. "I love
being creative. I love having a vision that can be executed, and
having the resources to do that vision. A lot of what the EP does is
creating a vision for a show. And you’ve got to keep that vision
alive. You define it; you work it out with the network, but ultimately
you’re responsible for delivering that vision. There’s nothing more
satisfying than getting everybody behind your idea and behind your
vision and making it work."
* Creative leadership
Other positions in television often don’t provide very much freedom.
"The writer gets beaten down by so many people above him. The director
gets beaten down. The EP in television is one of the few positions
that can honestly say, ‘I want to do this,’ and it gets done. So I
think we’re like little spoiled children in that respect. ‘No! I want
it blue.’ And it becomes blue. ‘No! I think it should be more creepy’
then it becomes more creepy. But ultimately being EP, you have to be a
political animal. Personalities intersect, if there are any issues
which, thank God, we don’t have on our staff. Dwight and I pride
ourselves in putting together a really good staff."
"If were known for anything," Agbabian says, "our reputation is that
we are executive producers who also are creative, which is not
necessarily a widespread thing. The other thing we’re known for is
putting together a really good staff. They’re not driven to their
bone. And I think it shows in what we do. I don’t like seeing a staff
working their asses off knowing that they’re unhappy. I’d rather see
them working their asses off knowing that they believe in what they’re
putting together and that they want to make work."
I ask Agbabian if there’s anything about executive producing that he
does not enjoy. "I don’t like the business pressure," he says. "I
don’t like the budget pressure. I don’t like the stress of dealing
with irrational network executives. That’s not fun. There’s a lot of
juggling you have to do to keep people happy. In some respects, you
have the Armenian in you trying to make everyone happy, being
hospitable. It comes in well in situations like this. It’s like, ‘No!
Eat more. No! You need a jacket.’ You get some respect in a very hard
and somewhat cold industry when you actually treat people well. We
[Armenians] are always trained to make people feel welcome. That’s
kind of how we operate. It’s in our blood; it’s in the culture."
* An active Armenian
There is more to Agbabian’s Armenian identity than his hospitality. He
has been involved in various community groups and charities. He was
one of the co-founders of the AGBU Young Professionals in Los Angeles
and has acted as its chair. He has interned for the Armenian Assembly,
and he has volunteered his time to local Armenian schools, helping to
produce charity videos. His parents, Elizabeth and Mihran, are very
involved in the community, and perhaps they have served as role models
for his own work. "It’s no surprise that I got involved in things that
my parents were involved in."
Agbabian admits that there are not a lot of Armenians in the
entertainment industry. "I am an Armenian in a non-Armenian field. I’m
proud to be where I am as an Armenian. In the nonscripted world
there’s very few."
"I think more Armenians should get into the entertainment industry.
[It] is an influential business. There are a lot of Armenian doctors,
dentists, lawyers. It’s not to say that my Armenian-ness is going to
change what goes on on Phenomenon. It doesn’t. But the more Armenians
in our media, the more there is recognition of our people, and I think
there’s also a sensitivity to our culture. I always make it a point
that people know I’m Armenian. I always try to put it forward that
Armenians are creative, that they’re hard working; they care about
what they do. That only helps. And when you’re working with people who
ultimately send out that message to the country and the world … it’s
important."
Agbabian believes we should encourage children in Armenian schools
to consider working in the industry. By "giving them a hint of what
they can do at a young age, I think we will have a much more diverse
community sending out our message. I’m grateful for my parents. I was
never forced into being an engineer like my dad; I was never forced
into being a doctor or a lawyer. I felt with my generation that they
were pushed into doing stuff that I don’t think they necessarily
wanted to do. I think it was an overall mentality that you have to do
this. You have to be a lawyer. You have to be a doctor. And I know
people my age who aren’t happy. I think it’s an issue of security. I
think it’s the old-world mentality that you have to get a job that
pays well that you know will never go away."
"I know AFFMA (see page C12) is trying, and there are some other
organizations out there trying to really cultivate that. There are a
lot of creative Armenians out there, and I think they need to pursue
what they want to pursue. And you know what? You can make some good
money in this business."
Agbabian’s advice for anyone interested in a career in film or
television is "Go for it! I say go for it because kids [should know]
you may be discouraged from doing this because it’s hard. Really hard.
It takes a lot of effort because you’re breaking into one of the
hardest businesses to break into. There’s a lot of resistance, but
there’s a lot of opportunity if you find it. And when you get that
opportunity, run with it. You may not have it again."
Agbabian has certainly found his opportunities and run with them.
But what’s next in his career? What’s next for reality television?
"Reality has gone through so many burnouts already." It has cycled
through typical reality competitions, dating shows, hoax shows and
relationship shows. "We’re now in game shows — there’s a lot more
game that’s going to start coming back. Talent shows are going to be
burning out."
"I think nonscripted will go one of two ways; either it’ll go to big
variety shows. Or, we’ll head back and cycle around to relationship
and reality competition shows. I think there was always a clear
indication of the next wave, and I think we’re finally at a point now
— what is next? A lot of people have talked about UGC, user generated
content reality, where viewers are much more involved in contributing
to the content. I don’t know how real that is yet; I don’t know if the
technology is there yet. I don’t know whether people want to tune in
and watch what other people have done when they can do that on the
Web."
"I love what I do," Agbabian says. He and Smith are currently
working on four different programs for four different networks: an
interactive game show for Fox in which viewers affect the outcome;
pilots at Lifetime and Discovery Channel; and a show in development at
SCI FI Channel. All at the same time. "We’re busy bees. The thing for
us is, you have to keep your head in multiple areas. You have to
compartmentalize, and it’s challenging."
****************************** *********************************************
5. Arpa International Film Festival, at age 10, to showcase the best
of Armenian cinema
* 115 films to be screened next weekend at the Egyptian Theater
Editor’s note: In celebration of Arpa’s upcoming film festival, the
Armenian Reporter is highlighting the Armenian filmmakers and
Armenian-themed films to be screened next weekend with their summaries
and scheduled screenings. In our last issue, we profiled AFFMA (Arpa
Foundation for Film, Music and Art) and will publish reports about its
2007 festival in upcoming issues.
November 2 to November 4, 2007
Egyptian Theater, 6712 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood, Calif.
* Friday, November 2.
Opening night screenings, party
5:45 p.m. The Place of Beginnings. Directed by Michelle Ekizian. 40
min. An orchestral music video presentation of Franz Werfel’s 1934
novel, The Forty Days of Musa Dagh.
6:45 p.m. The People’s Advocate: The Life & Times of Charles R. Garry.
Director Hrag Yedalian. 60 min. Documentary about Armenian-American
Charles R. Garry, one of the most influential criminal defense
attorneys of the 20th century who became a household name during the
1960s with his defense of revolutionary political icons like Huey
Newton and Bobby Seale of the Black Panther Party. Original music: The
Apex Theory.
8 p.m. 12 Music Videos from Serj Tankian’s New Album, Elect The Dead.
Followed by Q&A with directors. 60 min. Empty Walls. Director Tony
Petrossian. The Unthinking Majority. Director Tawd Dorrnfeld. Money.
Director Ara Soudjian. Feed Us. Director Sevag Vrej. Saving Us.
Director Kevin Estrada. Sky is Over. Director José Rivera. Baby.
Director Diran Noubar. Honking Antelope. Director Roger Kupelian. Lie,
Lie, Lie. Director Martha Colburn. Praise the Lord and Pass The Ammo.
Director Greg Watermann. Beethoven’s C***. Director Adam Egypt
Mortimer. Elect The Dead. Director Gariné Torossian.
9 p.m. The War Prayer. Director Michael Goorjian. 10 min. Short film
based on Mark Twain’s story, The War Prayer. During Sunday services in
present-day America, on the eve of war, a mysterious stranger silently
ascends to the pulpit. He proceeds to deliver Mark Twain’s masterful,
yet horrifying depiction of warfare in an unrivaled indictment of the
carnage that men have committed against fellow men since time
immemorial. Parallel Cut. Director Edgar Metro. 23 min. Short film
about a seductive hit man, hired to murder the neighbor of a
well-known mob boss who has tragically run over and killed the boss’s
10-year-old son. Based on the true story of John Gotti.
9:45 p.m. 2007 Armin T. Wegner Award Recipient, Screamers. Director
Carla Garapedian. 91 min. Documentary about the Armenian Genocide of
1915, and Turkey’s continued denial, featuring the music and live
concert footage of the multiplatinum, heavy-metal rock band System Of
A Down. The Recipe. Director Levon Mardikyan. 8 min. Filmic metaphor
for the nature of the Turkish state, the cultural identification of
the Armenians with their Anatolian homeland, and what they have gone
through in generations past and continue to endure in Turkey today, as
told through the life of Hrant Dink.
11:30 p.m. Midnight Fright… Revamped. Director Jeff Rector. Producers
The Garabedian Brothers. 90 min. After getting bitten by a beautiful
vampire, a man discovers that being "Undead" isn’t all that it’s
cracked up to be. Waste Land. Director Rebekah Chaney.Producer Polly
Pompian. 21 min. A young woman seeks the help of a psychiatrist in
dealing with the continued physical attacks of what she knows to be a
demon.
* Saturday, November 3.
Day/evening screenings
10 a.m. Armenian Documentaries Program 1 — Poisoning for Profit.
Director Hayk Kbeyan. 23 min. How mining in Armenia has turned soil
toxic, causing organ damage, sterility, and genetic mutations.
Karastan, Land of Stones. Director Celine Gulekjian. 18 min. A
discovery of the Armenian tuffa stone, resistant to time and adapting
to changes, as the image of the Armenian people. A Cry From Iran.
Directors Joseph and Andre Hovsepian. 51 min. "Superintendent Haik
Hovsepian" was a Christian convert from Islam who fought for freedom
of religion and become a victim of his belief, paying the ultimate
price. Lullaby. Director Abdollah Guivian. 23 min. Filmed during the
annual Armenian pilgrimage to St. Thaddeus in northwest Iran, the
characters in Lullaby poetically describe their often paradoxical
experience of being Armenian in Iran today.
10:15 a.m. Animation program.
12 p.m. Armenian Documentary Program 2 — A Glimpse of Paradise.
Director Yael Katzir. 25 min. Marie Balian, an Armenian ceramic artist
living in Jerusalem has painted traditional designs on tiles and
pottery for Christians, Muslims, and Jews for over 40 years. The film
documents her monumental work, a 1,000-tile mural she donated to
Jerusalem as a homage for hope and peace. Harutiun Dellalian. Director
Arthur Bakhtamian. 45 min. Harutiun Dellalian is one of the most
original composers of contemporary Armenian music. When he applied to
study at the State Music Conservatory in Yerevan, he was a technician
in a milling factory. Soon he was acknowledged as a natural composer.
Tabriz: Images from the Forgotten World. Director Mohammad Ehsani.
Producers Zaven Khatchaturian, Edwin Avaness. 29 min. Vartan’s
grandfather introduced photography to Tabriz, an ancient city in
northeastern Iran, in 1900. The fate of the family’s photo archive of
over a thousand photographs, many of historic value, troubles him as
he battles the indifference of the new generation, both Moslem and
Christian, toward the history of their own city.
12:05 p.m. International shorts 1
1:45 p.m. Genocide Documentary Program — Voices. Director Apo
Torosyan. 15 min. Survivors of the Armenian and Greek Genocide discuss
the mass murders of 1.5 million Armenians and 1 million Greek and
Assyrian citizens at the hands of Ottoman Turkey — a crime against
humanity still not officially recognized by Turkey today. Strunga.
Director Cadri Abibula. Producer Mihai Stepan-Cazazian. 40 min. After
the Armenian Genocide, orphans became one of the most important
humanitarian targets of the Armenian communities and charity
organizations around the world. The Union of Romanian Armenians
enrolled in the crusade of receiving more than four hundred Armenian
children on the territory of Romania.
2:05 p.m. The Border Crisis: Mexican Program
3:15 p.m. Rouben Mamoulian: The Golden Age of Broadway & Hollywood.
Director Patrick Cazals. 60 min. Documentary exploring the density and
complexity of one of the greatest masters and pioneers of Hollywood
and Broadway. In never-before-seen footage, Mamoulian’s elegant and
fluid style, his introduction of technical innovations, and his
profound interest for the "talking cinema" are reviewed. With… About
God. Director Varoujan Hovakimyan. A 5-min music video by artist Gor.
3:35 p.m. Indian International Program
4:30 p.m. Los Angeles Filmmakers 1 including… The Curse of Wally’s
Tears. Produced by Aram Tertzakian. 6 min. Wally pretty much never
cried over anything until a gypsy’s curse forced him to cry over
everything. Don’t Gag Me. Director Jeff Cohen. Writer Carolena Sabah.
9 min. A dental examining room transforms into a dungeon as a man
finds himself the victim of the dental dominatrix. Atom Seven-Five.
Director Raffi Bagdasarian. 15 min. An artist’s work becomes the
symbol of a corrupt corporate regime. Uncut Love. Director Hayk Paul
Hambartsumyan. 28 min. A student becomes obsessed with a beautiful
classmate, who drives him to self-mutilation. The Replacement Child.
Director Justin Lerner. Associate Producer Aram Tertzakian. 25 min. A
juvenile delinquent re-enters his backwoods hometown and breaks his
oath of nonviolence to save the life of his best friend.
5:30 p.m. Arpa Women’s Short Films including… A Point of View–A
Documentary. Director Kate Ryan. 5 min. A film exploring man’s best
friend through drastically different cultures: from pampered pup and
guard dog to service dog and, yes, even dinner. One Sister. Director
Michelle Gevoian. 8 min. One sister controlling another sister,
literally, through science. One sister is able-bodied while the other
is paralyzed. Their symbiotic bond leads to a physical role-reversal.
6:45 p.m. Tribute Screening… Mardik: Baghdad to Hollywood. Directors
Katrib-York-Orsa. Q&A with Mardik Martin. 85 min. A documentary on
Mardik Martin, one of cinema’s most important screenwriters with one
of the most unlikely journeys in American film history. His tumultuous
life embodies the strife of attaining the American Dream; from Iraq to
NYU Film School, from busboy to writing Martin Scorcese’s Raging Bull
… and beyond.
7:15 p.m. International shorts 2
8:30 p.m. Arpa Centerpiece Premiere: The Blue Hour. Director Eric
Nazarian, with Q&A. 93 min. In a working-class neighborhood by the Los
Angeles River, four stories examining the everyday lives of a Mexican
graffiti muralist, an Armenian camera repairman, a Blues guitarist,
and an elderly pensioner explore the delicate ties between strangers
who rarely communicate yet share brief moments of connection.
9:20 p.m. LGBT Program including… Ariana. Directors M. Sandoval, S.
Balooja. 27 min. A doctor comes to terms with his live-in lover and
Armenian grandmother. I Feel Like a Woman. Director Spencer Beglarian.
7 min. A young man shares his pain, shame, humor, and joy in accepting
both sides of his gender.
10:30 p.m. Arpa Special Presentation: Big Story in a Small City.
Director Gor Kirakosian, with Q&A. 90 min. Award-winning comedy about
a deceased professor who gets mixed up at the morgue with a
look-alike. Prelude of Silence. Director Gaya Gasparian. 8 min. A
female inmate of a mental hospital is lied to by a doctor during the
Perestroika era in Armenia.
* Sunday, November 4.
Day/evening screenings
10 a.m. Prince’s Grace — 1 hr 40min.
11:45 a.m. Arpa International Documentaries.
1:25 p.m. Artistry and Mystique in Cinema including… Second Egyptian.
Director Irina Patkanian. 18 min. A femme fatale meets an Egyptian
waiter in a restaurant in NYC. She has no job, no home, and no one to
talk to. He has a job, a room, and nobody to talk to. Stone Touch
Time. Director Gariné Torossian. 72 min. A documentary essay which
builds a layered and elusive image of Armenian identity. Starring and
narrated by Arsinée Khanjian.
3 p.m. Urban Crisis Shorts.
5:30 p.m. Los Angeles Filmmakers.
6 p.m. ARPA International Gala Awards Banquet at the Sheraton
Universal Hotel — Honoring Mardik Martin, Shohreh Aghdashloo, Carla
Garapedian, and Ken Davitian ($150 tax-deductible donation).
8:45 p.m. AIDS Inc. — 1hr 53min.
connect:
(323) 663-1882
**************************************** ***********************************
6. Poetry Matters: Markarian, nature, and what poetry gives
by Lory Bedikian
When I was young I thought I was the only girl who sat under an
apricot tree with her grandmother, season to season. I believed that
no one else had such a sanctuary as I did, sitting under those
paper-thin blossoms, waiting for the emergence of those amber orbs.
And when the fruit ripened it was my grandmother who would sit with me
after picking a few off the branches and would divide the orange flesh
in half with her fingers showing me it was almost to the stage of
becoming honey, well past the point of being ready to eat.
And when decades passed, I also believed I was the only poet who
understood, recognized and put into words the miracle of nature, its
simplicities and complexities compacted into a creation held in the
palm. I remember an attempt to write a poem about wanting to give my
grandmother something back for those moments in our yard when there
was nothing else that could equate to the quiet we shared, the taste
of spring in the tree above our heads.
After some formal education and many doses of reality and humility,
I began to realize that a poet, any writer, must read before they
write, that the world had noticed and written about such things for
centuries.
I began to read the poems of (Pulitzer Prize winner) Mary Oliver, a
contemporary poet who writes of the mysteries of nature, but with
precision and detail of language, making her poems as astonishing and
colorful as her topics, whether they be dusty pines, poppies, hawks or
vultures. Poets have always written about such things, but each poet
must attempt to bring to the subject their own unique perspective.
An important discovery for me has been that of the poet Maro
Markarian. Some of her work delves into the familiar topics of
justice, love and regret. But her poems also have an awareness and eye
for the natural world, from blue lakes to red-black buds, from
mountain peaks to ravines. One of her poems in particular, The Apricot
Tree in the Snow reminded me of that poem I once attempted to write.
* The Apricot Tree in the Snow
Snow is falling in our
orchard, mixing with
the white blossoms of
the apricot trees.
The sun is glazing
the snow with light
while something like a song
rises crazily in my throat.
Oh, my dears, I want to give
you something, something
filled with this light.
But what song or poem
could praise enough
this tree’s white blossoms
falling with the snow.
On the level of language, Markarian does something with this poem
that on a first-read may not be obvious. She places symbols of death
and life within the same image or moment. Snow mixes with white
blossoms, so death and life have become one from the onset of the
poem.
Then she does the same thing again in the lines that follow, but in
the reverse order. The sun "is glazing/the snow with light," thus the
sun, which give the natural world life, attempts to melt the blanket
of sleep in the orchard.
Although the world of winter brings quiet, Markarian decides to
write that "something like a song / rises crazily" in the speaker,
which changes the tone immediately. So nature has not brought — as it
may typically do for other writers — only death and life or
meditation and prayers, but instead the need to sing out.
And instead of writing to one specific "beloved" Markarian chooses
to have the speaker address "Oh, my dears," which expands the audience
of the poem and the speakers loved ones, taking it from a private love
poem to a more communal or universal call. The speaker wants to give
"something / filled with this light" but knows that no song or poem
can do so, can "praise enough" such miracles.
Markarian’s return to "this tree’s white blossoms / falling with the
snow" at the end of the poem reminds the reader that not even this
poem is enough to put into words what the speaker feels when viewing
the natural landscape.
It reminds the reader also that while the mind of the speaker goes
back to the image of blossoms and snow, we too are reminded that we
will all return to nature someday. But the poem does not sink into
lament or despair. Instead it tells us that if we cannot articulate
such praise, then let us not worry of what to give, but what to focus
on, those blossoms, that blanket of cold, and in my own case, that
apricot in my grandmother’s hand.
* * *
The Apricot Tree in the Snow," from The Other Voice: Armenian
Women’s Poetry Through the Ages, translated by Diana Der-Hovanessian,
AIWA Press, 2005.
* * *
Lory Bedikian received her MFA in Poetry from the University of
Oregon. Her collection of poetry has been selected as a finalist in
both the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry Open Competition and the Crab
Orchard Series in Poetry First Book Award Competition.
************************************ ***************************************
7. Film: Abkarian, Metwally join Oscar winners in Rendition
Actor Simon Abkarian returned to the big screen this weekend, starring
with Jake Gyllenhaal and Oscar winners Reese Witherspoon, Alan Arkin,
and Meryl Streep in Gavin Hood’s politically charged thriller,
Rendition.
In the film, Abkarian portrays Said Abdel Aziz, the interior
minister of an unnamed North African country, where a terrorist
explosion claims the life of an American operative.
The incident prompts the CIA-sanctioned interrogation and torture of
a U.S. resident of Egyptian birth, played by Omar Metwally. The
torture is inflicted after the suspected terrorist is transported, in
a case of "extraordinary rendition," to a country where such extreme
techniques are employed during interrogations.
Metwally is familiar to theater audiences for his role as Aram
Tomassian in the New York premiere of Richard Kalinoski’s Beast on the
Moon, which played Off-Broadway in 2005. The prior year, he had been
Tony-nominated for his turn as a young Palestinian in Sixteen Wounded.
(He also played a Palestinian in Steven Spielberg’s Munich.)
The Paris-based Abkarian starred in a French-language production of
Kalinoski’s play (under the title, Une bête sur la lune) in 2001,
winning the prestigious Prix Molière as best actor for his
performance.
American audiences recently saw Abkarian in the latest James Bond
feature, Casino Royale, with Daniel Craig, and in Sally Potter’s
critically acclaimed Yes (opposite Joan Allen). Among his leading
credits is the role of painter Arshile Gorky in Atom Egoyan’s Ararat.
With his previous film, Tsotsi, director Hood won the Academy Award
for best foreign film. Early critical reaction to Rendition, however,
has been mixed. The New York Times called it a "well-meaning,
honorable movie," but faulted it for "narrative overcrowding." The Los
Angeles Times criticized it as somewhat predictable but praised its
"starry" cast.
******************************************* ********************************
8. My Words: Straightforward, intuitive, scientific, and poetic
by Patrick Azadian
After my return from Yerevan, people have been bombarding me with "How
was it?" questions.
Often the question is accompanied with a gleeful look and the
expectation of a positive answer.
I really don’t know how to respond. It was a great experience like no other.
Sometimes I try to take the Armenianness out of myself and I try to
be objective. Would I still think the same way about my voyage to
Armenia if I weren’t Armenian? Would I still appreciate the occasional
dilapidated residential building? Would I appreciate some of the
eroded landscape?
Then again, I had the same type of questions even when I was a
child. As a 9-year-old, I remember being on a road trip with my family
in Iran, when someone in the car referred to the Persian landscape
around Tehran as "dry, boring, and ugly."
Maybe I had a hunch of what the future was to bring. But I actually
had a sarcastic response as a 9-year-old. I remember saying: "If we
were traveling in Armenia, you would have probably said: ‘Oh look at
the beautiful barren hills; check out the pretty shrubs; and how about
those few apricots hanging from those trees!’ "
As an Armenian, it is almost impossible to compare Armenia to other
established tourist destinations. But, it’s okay. The shrubs even look
nice in Armenia. So I admit it, I am biased.
In general, I saw even the negatives as positive, unless of course
the negative adversely affected the living conditions of the young,
sucked the blood out of the ordinary citizens, or endangered the
environment of Armenia for the next few hundred years.
During my two-week stay, I learned a thing or two about survival in Yerevan.
When it comes to restaurant service, there is a general theme in
Yerevan that goes against the diaspora mentality. Living as a minority
in every host nation we’ve come across, we have this innate culture of
‘apologetism.’ As diasporans we think it is the norm to be submissive,
but that’s not necessarily the case for Armenians living on their home
soil.
The first few times I went to a restaurant in Yerevan, it wasn’t
uncommon for me to be extra polite. After all I was in Hairenik
(‘Fatherland’). How else could I behave in the land of Vartan
Mamikonian, Mesrob Mashdots, Karekin Njdeh, and Rouben Pasha?
My simple request for a few glasses of water sounded quite
elaborate: "Shat kuh nerek, yeteh arituh unnenak mez mi kani bazhak
joor berek. Yeteh karelee eh." (‘Excuse me, when you get a chance,
please get us a few glasses of water. If possible.’)
After getting bamboozled looks from waitresses, I eventually learned
my lesson. I began making my requests short and not-so-sweet. The
people in the service business were not interested in my over
elaboration.
Three days into my trip, I almost felt like a native. If I wanted
water I’d say: "Joor!" If I wanted the check I’d say "Hasheevuh" with
a gesture implying "real soon!"
Don’t get me wrong. Working people were not unfriendly, but their
focus was on more important issues. The same waitress who appreciated
short orders was attentive enough to notice who was picking up the tab
and who was the eldest in our party.
At one restaurant, I was brave enough to ask for the check without
the approval of an elder. Before agreeing to run my credit card, the
waitress had the presence of mind to make sure I knew what I was
doing. She didn’t want the most senior member of the party to be
upset.
She asked: "Vstah ek? Barekamud chneghvi?" (‘Are you sure? I don’t
want your relative to be upset!’)
I checked with "hopar" ("uncle" or "elder") before I paid.
Don’t underestimate the waiters and the waitresses in Yerevan. The
same observant waitress could also claim to know more about chemistry
than Democritus of ancient Greece.
A week into my journey I was having a cold drink with a friend near
the Hraparak (Republic Square in the city center), when the waitress
approached us and asked us to relay a message to the German couple
sitting at the next table. The Germans had asked for "hyut" (juice)
with no ice, but the waitress had gone against their wishes. Instead
of replacing their drinks, she asked me to explain to them that when
water transforms into ice, all the bacteria in it disappear. As I did
not have my Grand Encyclopedia of Chemistry, handy, I refused to
deliver the message. But I did ask her to bring our country’s Teutonic
guests some fresh "hyut" with no ice on my tab.
One should also not lose sight of the waitress or a waiter. Always
plan the next move in a restaurant.
The waiters are always on the run. If you’ve ordered water, you may
lose them for a while before they are ready to take your appetizer
order.
One time, I had to hold the wrist of a veteran waitress until she
took our table’s entire order. I could physically feel she wanted to
set herself free every time someone blurted out an order. Her
instincts were to come back later.
After the waitress takes the order, it’s best to communicate with
her about your next move. A simple "chmoranas mez" ("don’t you forget
us") can work wonders.
Unlike business situations, being short and abrupt is rude in social
situations. The simplest question can inspire a poem that Yeghishé
Charents would be proud of.
Be prepared for a long answer if you offer a local friend some tea.
Instead of a short answer, it’s not uncommon to hear: "De hima vor
arajarkum es, yete mi ban bedk er khmeyee, tak ban lav kuh liner. Hima
vor loorj mtadzoom em ays hartsee masin, deh inchoo cheh, eh ha,
yerevi teh tey lav guh leenee." ("Now that you’ve suggested a drink,
if I were going to drink something, it would be something hot. And now
that I am seriously thinking about it, why not? Tea would be good.")
A lesson in history is also not excluded. The friend may continue:
"Gites hin zhamanaknerun, teyuh parsik derwishneri siradz khmichkn eh
yeghel…" ("You know, in the old days, tea was the drink of choice for
Persian derwishes…")
You could take that as a yes and go into constructing some poetry
yourself: "Deh hima vor du kardzes tey es uzum, yes takavorakan
parskakan tey unem kez hamar…" ("Now that it seems you want some tea,
I have some imperial Persian tea for you…")
I can’t wait to go back.
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