hetq.am
12/28/2009
ik-harutyunyan/#more-23744
`The bearers of traditional culture are not needed in this country.
There’s no crack to squeeze into, all roads are closed’
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Shoghaken Ensemble soloist Hasmik Harutyunyan was born in Yerevan into
a family of emigrants from Moush in Western Armenia.
It was a family in which folk song and dance were both desirable and
mandatory, and at the same time a kind of nourishment, or sustenance.
Everyone in the family had his own song.
The ashoughagan (troubadour) genre was reserved for the parents; the
children sang folk songs especially for children. `It didn’t even cross my
mind that there were homes where there was no singing or dancing, where
family members didn’t gather and sing and dance for hours. Later, when I
grew up and went to my friend’s houses and saw that no one was singing or
dancing, I was astonished,’ Hasmik told.
Harutyunyan never thought about becoming a singer, especially, that she
would be paid for singing. As the `pride’ of her school, she came to believe
that she could accomplish anything she wanted. And one day, while walking
with friends past the Arno Babajanyan Music College, as a `matter of pride,’
stated that she would be a student at the college. `Of course, everybody
laughed, because they knew I was studying at a mathematics school, and they
knew that besides solving problems, I couldn’t do anything else. But later I
decided I would become a student at the music college.
My family went into shock, as our family members were all expected to study
at Yerevan State University. I was accepted into the college, and I studied
there. But, I didn’t really feel it was my place, as the methods they were
using to teach singing seemed strange to me. There, they were artificially
changing the way they opened their mouths, and were imitating people in
strange ways, causing me to laugh out loud at what they were doing. I was
also lucky that my Mshetsi ancestors ended up in Aparan, as I picked up the
Aparantsi `stubbornness,’ which didn’t allow me to stray, to ruin my
voice.
I always sang how I wanted to sing.’
Rebirth of the Armenian lullaby
[image: 28_12-h_harutyunyan-1]Even after graduating from the music college,
Hasmik wasn’t thinking about becoming a singer. At home, she was taking care
of her brother’s children. She sang lullabies for them.
`There came a time when they starting demanding new songs, and I was ashamed
that I didn’t know any more songs to sing for them. I began looking for
songs, checking different sources. I sang the songs I had found, and by
singing them near the cradle, I understood how they should be sung. But I
didn’t have the opportunity to sing these songs on stage. Also, there was no
place where I could go to learn these songs. We have a huge, fantastic
inheritance in all genres of folk music, especially lullabies. The thing is
that they’re not all gathered in one place, where one can go, pick up a
book, and learn our lullabies. And there was nowhere I could go and have
someone teach me these songs. You have to search for them, to dig, to
excavate. This has become my life’s work. And I’ve searched a lot, collected
old recordings, and wherever I go, I ask people what was sung for them.’
Hasmik says that people often don’t understand that what was being sung for
them were lullabies, because in Armenian lullabies the mothers sang about
their lives, their homeland, when all of a sudden a line would appear saying
`rock, rock=85′ This was because the purpose of the lullaby was to pass on
this knowledge, and to build a bridge from generation to generation. `The
lullaby creates a bridge between the generations, between the mother and
child. In lullabies, the people speak, and who can be more knowledgeable,
wise, than the people? And from what can that bridge be created now, with
television becoming nothing more than a trash bin?’ the singer indignantly
asked.
So began the singer’s journey into the world of lullabies. Hasmik considers
the lullaby the purest, cleanest folk genre. In her words, people are so
culturally stained, or corrupted, that they can’t understand or accept the
pure, clean music of the lullaby.
`This generation is separated from its roots and the connection between the
earth and the universe. In the lullaby, they say `what the mother has
brought you,’ not `whose girl are you, how many rings to you have, what kind
of car you drive?’ On the other hand, the meaning of the lullaby is asking
what kind of inner world the mother has given to the child. Now that is
purity.’ In Hasmik’s performance of lullabies, one finds the mother’s entire
love and tenderness, even though she couldn’t sing the songs for her own
children. `Due to marrying late, I didn’t have children, but I have a
wonderful husband, and consider myself quite happy. He is a foreign-born
Armenian, and when they ask him what keeps him in Armenia, he answers,
`tolma, tuti oghi (mulberry vodka), and Hasmik’s voice,” the singer
laughingly noted.
>From `Akunk’ to `Shoghaken’
[image: 28_12-h_harutyunyan-2]In the 1980s, Hasmik sang for the Akunk
Ensemble, founded by the well known singer and historian Hayrik Mouradian.
Although gaining good experience, Hasmik again found it difficult to find
her place in a group or choir setting. And she couldn’t establish herself as
a solo performer. After the death of the group’s leader, Maro Mouradian,
Akunk never again regained its footing.
The singer and several musicians got together and formed the Shoghaken
Ensemble, which was the beginning of her road to success. Starting in 2000,
Shoghaken has appeared in some of the most famous concert halls and
festivals. In 2001, Shoghaken recorded an album of traditional Armenian folk
dances. Then, from the New York-based `Traditional Crossroads’ label, which
records pure ethnic music from around the world, Shoghaken received a
commission to record the now well known `Armenia Anthology’ CD. The CD
helped open the door for Shoghaken, which was then invited to perform at Yo
Yo Ma’s Silk Road Festival in Washington, DC, in 2002.
The same year, Shoghaken recorded the folk music for Atom Egoyan’s film
`Ararat.’ The ensemble has had many concerts in Europe and the USA,
including their 45-day tour of the USA, in 2004, which covered 11 states,
and their tour in 2008, in the USA and Canada. Hasmik says that there was
huge interest for authentic folk music across the country, yet little in
Armenian communities. Also, in 2006, Shoghaken performed a solo concert at
the renowned `Theater De La Ville’ in Paris, France, the first ensemble from
Armenia to appear at the hall.
All commissions for Shoghaken’s recordings have come from outside Armenia,
as in Armenia, financial means have until now been unavailable. `In general,
we never refuse an offer, even if finances are little, as there is no other
way to have our music reach the world. Each musician of Shoghaken feels the
responsibility to preserve and pass this music on to others.’
Folk music `undresses’ the individual
`Today the world is slowly waking up. But that places us directly in front
of a troubling question. The entire world is drawn to you, wants to listen
to your music, but your own countryman doesn’t want to listen to you. No
matter how much you give your countryman, he can’t swallow that clean, pure
nourishment. His tastes are already deformed, distorted; his ability to feel
the musical hues and colors is ruined. The folk song demands honesty,
openness, and who today wants to be open? If they open up, how can they
stand in front of us, with their ignorance, their nakedness? The Armenian
folk song sends the listener to such depths that your political party isn’t
important, who your parents are, what you’ve done, instead you have to stand
naked facing your sins. It’s just that that makes people furious, and for
that reason they don’t want to open up, be honest in front of others,’
Hasmik states.
Turkish ensembles presenting Armenian culture of Anatolia
`How are we going to amaze the world? With our symphony? If I want to listen
to symphonic music, I’ll go to Vienna and enjoy their symphony. Every year,
the Turks send 30-40 folk ensembles around the world to give concerts. They
present the Armenian culture of Anatolia, and for that people like them. And
if one happens to tell somebody what a Turk is, they answer, `oh, they play
such nice music, how can they be bad people?’ So, go ahead and tell the
world what the Turk did, and why they’re presenting our culture as their
own. The Turks have seized the stages of the world where ethnic music is
presented. And we have completely lost our cultural values,’ Hasmik argues.
`If we stand in front of the world and open our mouths and say we have one
thing, and that is the grace and talent of Komitas, and then allow the
half-educated to go on television and say `I am doing arrangements of
Komitas=85′ Who are you, to say you are doing arrangements of Komitas? Our
folk song differentiates in the way the musical sentence is formed, which is
from our speech. In that, the entire life and history of our nation appears,
our features, our appearance. If a nation has no history, his speech cannot
be advanced, and it would be impossible to quickly form a musical sentence.
It is impossible that the Armenian woman, when creating a lullaby, is doing
this from emptiness, because in every note, every word, there is deep
meaning. Our musical mentality is quite advanced, and logical, because we
have logically given narrative to each happening, event, and phenomenon of
nature. And this appears in the folk song. All of our layers as a people,
pre-Christian, pre-historical, and Christian=85how can we say `this is old, it
isn’t modern,’ and leave all this, gift it to others, throw it right in
their laps, so we can be more `modern?’ The cradle of world music should be
right here. We have our part in world civilization. Culture of merit isn’t
created in a year, in ten years, or in a hundred years, but in centuries, in
millennia. And the deeper the historical layers, the deeper and richer the
national music. For something extra to wear, or something more to eat, we
are lowering our standards, our cultural values. We, the bearers of
traditional culture, are not needed in this country; there’s no crack to
squeeze into, all roads are closed,’ the Shoghaken soloist laments.