MODERN HISTORY [VOL.1] – HOW IAN GILLAN BROKE “THE IRON CURTAIN”
Tuesday 25 December 2012 10:28
Photo: from A. Mitinyan
Ian Gillan’s four concerts were not simply a major music event in
1990 in Yerevan. The concerts proved that the world was changing and
“iron curtain” was about to disappear.
One can hardly imagine how difficult the logistics of such concerts
was in Yerevan of 1990. It would be no exaggeration to say that the
organizers, Vahan Karapetyan and his friends, were real heroes. In
March 2010, when organizing Ian Gillan’s concert with the State
Philharmonic Orchestra of Armenia, Mediamax had to deal with numerous
major and minor issues. Just imagine what it might have been like back
in 1990. These people should be paid tribute to. Without their effort,
Ian Gillan would never call Armenia his “spiritual home”.
Director of “KMO” Ltd. Vahan Karapetyan
In 1990, I worked with Arvest organization that specialized in concert
management and promotion. The minute we heard that Ian Gillan was going
to tour the Soviet Union we knew we should invite him to Armenia as
well. We knew about the active role he had plaid in Rock Aid Armenia
campaign initiated by Jon Dee, hence, Gillan’s visit to Armenia would
be of particular significance.
At that time, the Supreme Council of Soviet Armenia was presided by
Hrant Voskanyan. We asked him to receive the guests. The meeting was
scheduled to last 30 minutes but it came to three hours instead. We
talked of various things: the situation in Armenia, the earthquake,
literature, music, and so on. At the end of the meeting, Ian Gillan
presented Hrant Voskanyan with a gift: the Earthquake Album released
within Rock Aid Armenia project.
Gillan was also received by Mayor Norik Muradyan in Spitak. Though a
year and a half had passed after the quake, and the damages were not
that visible already, the musician was obviously very compassionate
about what he saw and what he heard people tell him. Ian Gillan said
that he would like to hold an international music festival in Spitak.
It’s a pity this idea was not realized.
It was four of us who organized Gillan’s visit and concerts – with
no money, state officials or sponsors to back us. We received the
funding from the ticket sales.
We had to bring all the necessary equipment for the concert from the
Baltic countries, as Armenia had none of its own. No organization
in Armenia could ensure the security during the concert, either,
so we had to employ security guards from Poland.
This was an enormous amount of work. There were 30 people in the
group: musicians, technical staff, security officers, interpreter,
etc. They all were extremely simple and nice people, we received no
complaints of any technicalities ever.
The decision to hold four concerts was due to the fact that the dates
of the tour were already fixed by the USSR’s State Concert Agency,
Gosconcert, and we had to fit in. The enterprise was absolutely
unprofitable. We had estimated that to gain profit, we would have to
sell at least 80% of tickets, whereas we managed to sell only 60-70%.
This was barely enough to cover the expenses. However, the profit
was the last thing on our mind. It was much more important to have
Ian Gillan see Armenia, meet our people whom he had helped when the
disaster struck.
Vahan Karapetyan and Ian Gillan.
Photo from A. Mitinyan’s archive.
I find it hard to describe what I was feeling, a blend of admiration
and pride.
Once, musician Ara Gevorgyan asked me if his Rally band could host one
of the dinners for our guests. They invited Gillan and his musicians
to a restaurant on the way to Jrvezh (outside Yerevan). We had been
sitting for rather a long time when sounds of duduk were heard from a
room next door. Gillan said that he wanted to invite the duduk player
to his next day’s concert. Frankly speaking, I was sure he would
forget about the request. But Ian repeated his request first thing
in the morning. I called Ara Gevorgyan who invited Arsen Grigoryan,
the duduk player. Arsen Grigoryan performed at the concert that night.
Musician Ara Gevorgyan
The Rally band that I was performing with those days often played
covers of the Deep Purple. We knew most of their hits by heart. As we
learned that Gillan was to come to Armenia, all we could hope for was
to be at the airport when he arrives and attend the concerts. Sitting
at the same table with him and performing on the same stage was beyond
any dream.
It all started the day when we invited Gillan and his musicians to
dinner. A duduk player was performing at that restaurant. Hearing
the music, Gillan said he wanted to have duduk during his concert.
Ian Gillan and Ara Gevorgyan in Yerevan, 2010.
Photo from A. Gevorgyan’s archive.
I didn’t take it seriously first. But the next day Gillan insisted and
I called the duduk player Arsen Grigoryan, calling him to Sport and
Concert Complex for a rehearsal. I explained it to Gillan’s keyboard
player that he should only press one key and nothing more. He seemed
to agree, but then, as a musician, he could not help himself and did
come in with his own accords. I tried to imply it delicately, and in
response received an offer to play myself, with him standing by me.
This is how both of us, Arsen and I, performed at the concert. There
is no point even trying to describe my feelings.
During those days the Artistic Director of the Chamber Theater Ara
Yernjakyan called me, asking if he could invite Gillan and his group
to the theater. By midnight, we came to the theater that seemed to be
seized with real craze, in the best sense of the word. Hrant Tokhatyan,
Mikael Poghosyan, other musicians and actors were there.
Till the very morning, Gillan was singing and we were playing,
performing his Smoke on the Water. No words can describe that.
I remember Gillan being very surprised at our tradition toast “to
friends who are away”. He was very surprised and said: “What amazing
people you are to have such a toast”.
In 2010, Gillan offered me to take part in creating “Holy Water” – one
of compositions of WhoCares supergroup set up especially for raising
funds for Gyumri N6 music school construction. I was of course happy
to agree, and he sent me the Holy Water track, requesting to give it
some Armenian “flair”.
This time, I invited a good friend of mine and a famous duduk player
Arshak Sahakyan who did a great job for this record.
Jon Dee, Founder of Rock Aid Armenia, Founder and Managing Director
of Do Something!
On December 7, 1988, I got a phone call from Washington telling me
about an earthquake that had just taken place in Armenia. I was
asked to use my connections and get the first foreign film crew
into Armenia. The aim was to get independent footage out to the
international aid community. We succeeded in getting the crew in
but we also ended up where the footage spread like wildfire in the
global media.
On seeing the footage, I decided to start a fundraising initiative
called ‘Rock Aid Armenia’. Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour was the first
person to get my call and was the first star to come on board. But
without doubt, the one person who did more than any other to help
the project was Deep Purple’s lead singer Ian Gillan.
Jon Dee and David Gilmore, 1989.
Photo from Jon Dee’s archive.
Back in May 1990, I visited Armenia to travel to the earthquake zone
with Ian. I had just released ‘The Earthquake Album’ which had gone
‘gold’ in the UK and together with Ian I wanted to see what was
happening on the ground in the earthquake zone.
The timing was fortunate. Ian had some concerts planned at the Sports
and Concerts Complex in Yerevan and I needed to visit Armenia to meet
with people on the ground.
Getting the visa to visit Armenia turned out to be a lot easier than
for my first trip there. The success of the album and our top 40 ‘Smoke
on the Water’ single meant that I had got to know the UK’s Soviet
Ambassador and his staff. He had organised for the deputy head of the
Academy of Sciences to sponsor my trip. That opened up a lot of doors.
This time around, instead of the KGB monitoring me to see what I was
up to, they were following me to ensure that everything was okay. The
funniest experience happened at Moscow airport when I was waiting for
the domestic Aeroflot flight to Yerevan. A man in a pink suit was
reading an English newspaper. He was failing badly in his efforts
to look like a western tourist. On looking at him more closely, it
turned out that his newspaper was the wrong way up. Unless he could
read upside down, there was no way that he could read the paper. From
the other side of the room, I silently motioned to him that he needed
to turn his newspaper the correct way. He looked at the newspaper,
laughed at himself, winked back at me and smiled. I smiled back.
The plane itself had seen better days and was so full that some
people were standing. Someone even had some chickens with them. It
was not what I was used to on a British flight. My personal assistant
questioned whether we should get off the plane. The state of the
plane prior to take-off had worried me but the landing was far
worse. On approaching Yerevan I couldn’t believe how high we were
above the airfield. We suddenly dropped from the sky and hit the
ground so hard that baggage fell out of the overhead lockers. As the
plane bounced on the tarmac, it was a heart stopping moment. Even
the locals looked dazed.
What surprised me was that the passengers waited for the pilots to
disembark before they did. It came as no surprise to see two pilots
who looked like they had drunk vodka for the whole trip to Armenia.
Looking at the state of the plane, it was probably the only way they
could get up enough courage to fly the thing. On disembarking from the
plane, we saw an old man with a big iron bar hitting the wheels. As
he hit each wheel and saw it still had air in it, he shrugged. Safety
check completed, he walked away.
On reaching our hotel, we arranged to catch up with Ian the next day.
Complete with a full entourage, we got in to a beautiful limousine
that looked like it was straight off a 1950’s Hollywood set. It was
a long drive to Spitak, so Ian and I took the time to catch up about
the Rock Aid Armenia project. We had a long conversation and it was
nice to talk with nobody else around.
Ian Gillan and Brian Adams, 1989.
Photo – Michael Putland.
We weren’t sure what to expect of the earthquake zone. Would anyone
have any time to show us around? What was the infrastructure going
to be like? Would we be intruding on people’s personal space? What
would we find? So many questions were going through our minds.
The first thing we were shown was a memorial put up to recognise those
who had died during the earthquake. As we walked around the surrounding
area, we noticed that the gravestones in Armenia are very different to
those in the West. They had very lifelike etchings of the faces of the
people who had died. What struck us hard were the gravestones showing
children. Ian and I were shown a gravestone that had the images of a
whole family. There were beautiful images of a mother, her children
and their father. All had died. We had to turn away. As we did so, we
saw countless other gravestones showing similar faces. The experience
triggered much emotion that we found hard to suppress.
Jon Dee and Pat Cash, 1991.
Photo from Jon Dee’s archive.
We were then taken to the international village in Spitak where two
things happened that affected us even more. We firstly met an old
lady who had been given a small demountable one room home. We were
told that she was lucky to have it. On entering it, we came across a
wall of photos. She cried as she pointed out all her relatives. Our
translator told us that they were all dead.
She spoke to us in a language that we didn’t understand. We didn’t
need to. Her voice and the distraught sobs that came from deep within
her were universal in what they conveyed. In her old age, she had lost
her entire family. You could sense her desperately reaching out and so
Ian gave her the loveliest hug. He looked into her eyes and didn’t say
anything. He didn’t need to. I held her hands and she put her head on
my shoulder. I felt her tears on my neck. I was only 27 and had never
experienced the grief of a stranger like that. The grief filled the
room and on leaving her, the cold air hit us as much as our emotions.
What Ian and I saw next hit us harder still. We visited a school
in a temporary building. We were taken in to a classroom, which the
translator told us was “the orphans class”. It turned out that the
majority of the children there had lost all their family. Mothers,
fathers, brothers, sisters, aunties and uncles. The look in the eyes
of these children affected me so profoundly that I still cannot talk
about it publicly to this day. Looking in their eyes you could see
they were still alive, but you sensed that inside they had emotionally
died. I find myself crying as I reminisce and write these words. Back
then I found it impossible to fathom the grief that those children
were experiencing. It cut to my soul back then and the memory of that
moment still does the same today.
We went back to our car. Nobody spoke. We couldn’t. We had been
left in shock from the experience. As we drove around the ruins,
one couldn’t help but wonder how on earth a society could bounce back
from such devastation and grief. We pulled over so that I could film an
interview for MTV. I remember saying that I thought the area would need
help for decades to come. Little was I to know that Ian and I would be
back there 20 years later still trying to do our small bit to help out.
A total contrast greeted us when we were told that a lunch was
being held in our honour. Amongst the devastation, a local group of
dignitaries and reconstruction managers wanted to personally thank
us for what we were trying to do. The generosity of the food and the
warmth of the words left us feeling a great depth of gratitude towards
our hosts. Despite the terrible situation that our hosts were in,
they reached out to Ian and I in a way that left us deeply moved.
We reached a time where we had to leave in order to get Ian back to
the first of his concerts in Yerevan. In the car on the way back,
we were all totally silent. Nobody could talk. Each of us was in our
own world processing what we had all seen. It was a feeling that
I have experienced at funeral wakes. At some point, somebody said
something that made us all laugh and we then took to talking about the
positive things that we had seen. We all spoke of our deep affection
for the people that we had met. It is a feeling that Ian and I have
experienced again and again at the lunches and dinners that we have
had in Armenia since that first visit together.
The mood in the car slowly lifted and we soon found ourselves at
the venue. That night I stood at the back of the stage watching Ian
perform to a sold out venue at the Sports and Concerts Complex. When
the first note sounded there was an incredibly powerful outburst of
emotion from the crowd. Ian reacted with the best show that I have
ever seen him perform.
The next day we were given a tour of Yerevan and had a quieter day. We
needed it. The experience of visiting the earthquake zone had left
an indelible impression on us.
What became clear to me during our lunch in Spitak and the trip itself
was that the success of Rock Aid Armenia was not to be judged in how
much money it had raised. I now realise that its main success had been
to boost people’s morale in the earthquake zone. 17 months after the
earthquake, the media had gone home and Armenia was no longer being
talked about overseas. But to know that some of the world’s biggest
rock stars were still trying to help raised people’s spirits over
there. They came to realise that they hadn’t been forgotten.
During one of the toasts at the lunch in Spitak, somebody remarked
about the importance of music to the people of Armenia. They said
that on the day of the earthquake the music had died. They said that
things would only be healed when music had found its way back into the
hearts of Armenians. When I decided to re-release the Rock Aid Armenia
version of ‘Smoke on the Water’, it was one of the reasons why I was
so keen to fund a children’s music project in the earthquake zone.
With the help of Mediamax and the Fund for Armenian Relief, we decided
to try and rebuild the music school in Gyumri.
Ian Gillan and Jon Dee in Yerevan, 2010.
Photo: Mediamax.
That school is now being built and the efforts that Ian and I began
all those years ago will bring about a positive outcome that brings
music into the hearts of young Armenians. That we are doing this in
partnership with our Armenian friends at FAR and Mediamax makes it
even more special for us.
It has been an honour for me to have been taken in as a friend of
Armenia. It is a place that holds a special place in my heart. I
know that I can speak for Ian when I say that what we experienced
all those years ago will stay with us for the rest of our days.
Ian Gillan and Jon Dee meet with Armenian President, 2010.
Photo: Armenian President’s Press Office.
An extract from “Ian Gillan: Glory Road” book
On May 17-20, Armenia applauded Gillan. There were no barriers between
the stage and the audience, Ian shook hands with people during the
concert, gave out signatures, etc. There were only two security
officers at the sides of the stage, keeping order. The fans were
screaming, chanting Gillan’s name, the atmosphere was fantastic. On
the first evening, before “Ain’t No More Cane On The Brazos” song,
Gillan said it was a dedication to the innocent victims of the
earthquake in Armenia.
On the third day, amidst the concert, while Gillan was shaking
hands with the fans, they pulled him off the stage. The two security
officers jumped down to hold the musician back, and when Ian came
back to the stage, his famous sheriff’s badge had disappeared from
his chest. Seeing it, he laughed, said something and kept singing.
All this time, the musicians of the band kept playing unruffled.
During the last concert, a musician was invited to the stage who
played the duduk (Armenian national instrument) for about 10 minutes.
The beautiful melody smoothly merged into “Ain’t No More Cane On The
Brazos”. The people sang with Gillan, and the “floating” fires of
lighters could be seen all across the hall. By the end of the concert,
a girl sprang out of the crowd and literally threw herself on Gillan,
hugged him with her arms and legs and kissed passionately on the lips.
The security officers could hardly separate the fan from the singer.
Ian smiled, hugged the girl tenderly and gestured the security officers
to take the girl down to the fan zone.
During all the four concerts, the tracklist was the same: Gut Reaction,
Black Night, Living For The City, Strange Kind Of Woman, Ain’t That
Loving You Baby, Nothing To Lose, Ain’t No More Cane On The Brazos,
I Thought No, Knocking At Your Back Door, Puget Sound, Sweet Lolita,
Trouble, New Orleans, Lucille, Smoke On The Water.
“Ian Gillan Superstar”
In May 1990, the Soviet Ekho Planety magazine published an interview
titled Ian Gillan Superstar. The interview was dedicated to the launch
of the musician’s tour across the Soviet Union. We present you some
extracts from the interview made by TASS correspondents Andrey Biryukov
and Alexander Sisnyev.
***
Our conversation before the USSR tour wasn’t our first meeting with
Gillan. We met him at the presentation of Rock Aid Armenia charity
single. At that time, the singer spoke about our country highly and
was interested in the developments there. So when our request for an
interview came, Ian Gillan obliged with responding immediately.
We drove for an hour and a half from London to come to a small town.
Here, at the Reading Lane street, the Old Manor House was the
residence of the singer. Hardly did the car drive up to the house
that the host appeared at the door, dressed in a pink T-shirt and a
pair of blue jeans. A four-pawed pet was standing by him, wearing a
plastic socket of unknown purpose at his collar.
“It’s Rufus”, Ian explained noting our surprised glances at the
extraterrestrial creature. “He hurt his front paws and doesn’t stand
bandages – scratches them off at once. I had to put this intricate
device on him – for his own good”.
Coming into the house, we saw a real pet kingdom. Two cats, a canary,
a large aquarium full of small fish of most unimaginable colors.
“Everyone has its own name”, kindly informed Gracie, Gillan’s
6-year-old daughter. Besides the poor Rufus, three more mongrels were
darting about the room.
Ian Gillan, 1989.
Photo: Michael Putland.
“Well, we wanted to take a dog”, said Ian, “but when my wife and I
went to an asylum for homeless animals and saw these four sufferers
in the same cage, we couldn’t but take all of them”.
Gillan invited us see the house, adding with pride that he made many
things himself, from woodwork to sewage piping.
***
– Ian, as far as we know, the USSR tour was scheduled for March. We
had informed our readers about it and, to be honest, felt guilty
before the Soviet rock fans when the schedule changed. What happened?
Issues with logistics?
– My Naked Thunder album is to blame, if we can say so. I thought
I would manage to come to the USSR in March and set off to Europe
afterwards to do the promotion. But the German recording company
postponed the release of the CD till July, and we decided to do some
more work in the studio.
– Will the Soviet rock fans hear these new works?
– Yes, we included some new compositions into the tour program. But
we’ll also play the works that have passed the time test, the more
popular hits from Deep Purple and Ian Gillan band, rock classics,
such as “Lucille” by Little Richards and many others. We’re curious
to see how our music will be taken in your country, I hear there are
cities in the tour that do not see many Western groups perform.
***
– It’s no secret that many of your colleagues have had problems
with equipment in the USSR. They had to carry multi-ton luggage
with them….
-We will mostly use the same equipment that the Black Sabbath did
during their Leningrad tour, but we will certainly bring some with us,
too. I hope the concerts will be successful, and people will be happy
with them.
***
– I remember that your performance as Jesus Christ in Webber’s musical
was justly named the “most significant occurrence in the music”. The
rock opera has fantastic, incredible popularity in our country, even
though the official authorities for culture pretended such piece
of music never happened. Can you tell us a bit more about this work
of yours?
– I was invited to take part in the recording of Jesus Christ Superstar
rock opera by Tim Rice. He wasn’t as famous as Andrew Lloyd Webber,
meanwhile, it was Tim who is mostly responsible for the success of
the work. He researched the subject profoundly and came up with an
excellent script. I actually think that in terms of music, it is not so
much the composer’s merit, but rather that of the artists and singers,
it is their improvisation skills that gave the opera the sound it is
so popular for. Our partnership with Webber did not continue after
the Jesus Christ. Later, I was offered to sing General Peron’s part
in his new work, the Evita. Yet the music seemed to be more in a
cabaret style, and I didn’t accept. There were some personal motives,
too: Webber was gaining more and more power, while Rice’s authority
weakened. I think it is not fair, and I am good friends with Tim…
***
Setting off to the USSR, we hope that the trip will be very elucidating
for us, Gillan says.
“We want to meet the different nations of your country, to get to know
their characters and cultures. I am sure we’ll see a lot and learn a
lot, too. It’s one thing to read about the Soviet Union in the papers,
listen to politicians and businessmen, and it is completely different
to talk to people in the street. I am interested in the routine
philosophy of ordinary people, what is that they like and dislike…
Ian Gillan, 1990.
Photo: Ian Gillan’s Official Site on Facebook.
Artistic Director of Chamber Theater Ara Yernjakyan
About 50-60 people gathered in the theater, and many of them did know
already Ian Gillan himself was coming.
Our theater had an active jazz club back then. Our quartet mainly
played in the Blue Hall, their performances were well known, and
people would regularly come here at 10 p.m. We had great nights there.
When Gillan came up, the theater started screaming. He came with his
musicians. The idea was to have a get together and share a drink,
we could not imagine he would actually sing.
At first, it was his and our musicians singing and playing. Later,
Gillan himself started singing. It was a crazy night. One could not
tell who’s singing, who’s dancing, six people at a time could find
themselves at the piano.
We could not seat many people in that hall, so only a close group of
friends gathered. And everyone new: a miracle will happen.
Founder of Hayas rock band, composer Artur Mitinyan
Fans, including our group, met with Gillan in Dvin hotel where he was
staying. We were standing quietly by the entrance, as Gillan appeared.
He was very friendly and simple and he came up to us himself.
Photo: from A. Mitinyan’s archive.
I was carrying a magazine, I don’t even remember now who was featured
on its cover. I stretched it out to get an autograph. And our drummer
Rambo didn’t have anything at hand, so he held out his passport,
and Gillan signed it.
Former employee of the Sports and Concert Complex (senior engineer
of Sports Events Division) Vahan Manoyan
My friends and I were big fans of Deep Purple. It was great enough
for us to see Ian Gillan on our stage, but our joy doubled when we
were given a chance to talk to him after the concert. We had the
head of our department of stage equipment do the interpretation,
he was a former pilot and he spoke English.
Gillan seemed at ease at the meeting. We offered him Armenian wine
that he liked very much. He said that from behind the Iron Curtain the
USSR seemed to be evil, but being here he was meeting many wonderful
people. It had surprised him that we loved rock music so much.
His band members had brought everything they needed with them, and
Gillan could feel at home in the dressing room. I remember that they
had brought lots of beer that they were drinking all the time. They
also brought bicycles and basketball balls: they were riding bicycles
in the backstage.
The concert went very well. The Smoke on the Water was an incredible
performance, and I couldn’t believe I was actually seeing Ian Gillan
on stage. Unfortunately, the concert hall was not at its fullest. I
remember that a few days after Gillan’s concert, an Uzbek band Yalla
was performing on the stage, and the hall was packed.
Director of Mediamax Ara Tadevosyan
In spring 1990, I was on my way home from school, and was about to
reach my building when I saw something that made me freeze. It was a
large white poster on the wall of the flower store in the beginning
of Baghramyan avenue that read: IAN GILLAN IN ARMENIA: MAY 17-20,
1990. I found it hard to believe this was a real announcement and not
somebody’s prank. It seemed unbelievable. I was a fervent fan of the
Deep Purple, and my brain refused to imagine that in a month I would
be able to see and hear Ian Gillan in Yerevan.
I went to the first concert with my classmate Eliza who was one
of few heavy metal fans of Yerevan. Our seats were on the podium,
but after a few songs we went down and continued to listen to the
concert standing. To tell the truth, I have had few impressions of
the first concert, it was the last, the fourth one that truly remained
in my memory.
I actually got to the last concert by chance. I was at a birthday
party with my classmates. It suddenly turned out that the hosts had
tickets to Gillan’s concert and didn’t want to go. We decided to
take the tickets and go to the concert, all the more since we were
not very far from the Sports and Concert Complex. There were three
of us: Avik Eloyan, Nairi Petrosyan and myself. As we went outside,
a heavy thunderstorm broke out, and we ran along the Kievyan Bridge
under the pouring rain. Soaking wet, that’s what we were as we entered
the concert hall. We immediately took the best “posts” by the stage,
and when the concert began, it was obvious my feelings were not to be
compared to the ones during the first concert. It was all different
here: you could feel the energy coming not only from Gillan and his
musicians but also from dozens of people dancing and screaming next
to us. Gillan bent from time to time to shook hands with the fans. I
was lucky, too. He looked at me and gave me his hand. It seemed like
a dream… Avik spent most of the concert sitting on my shoulders,
but it did not even inconvenience me.
Ian Gillan, 1990 Photo: Ian Gillan’s Official Site on Facebook.
It was unforgettable when a duduk player came on to the stage, and
Gillan said that the next song was dedicated to the memory of the
victims of Spitak earthquake. Everybody in the hall lit lighters and
matches, we had seen something like that only in foreign movies.
After the concert we decided to try our luck and get Gillan’s
signature. We went to the staff-only entrance of the Complex, where
a few dozens of people had already gathered. We were waiting for
a long time, for about two hours. But Gillan did not come out, and
we were not allowed to enter. Finally, when it was almost midnight,
we decided that Avik and I would go home, while Nairi would stay and
take signatures for all of us. As I came in, I was overtaken by the
strong smell of valocordin, drops for hear. I was 14 , and it was
the first time I had come home so late, past midnight. My mom was so
happy to see me safe and sound that she wasn’t even mad at me. I was
already in bed when my father came home. It turned out that he and my
aunt had gone to look for me, and having found Nairi by the staff-only
entrance of the Sports Complex, took him home almost by force.
In a couple of weeks I did get Gillan’s signature, I exchanged it
for a Rolling Stones’ single. I framed it and had it on my wall for
about 10 years…
Photo from A. Mitinyan’s archive.
Of course, back in 1990, I couldn’t even dream that I would be
inviting Ian Gillan to Armenia in 19 years, within our “Armenia
grateful 2 rock” project. When Gillan arrived in Armenia in 2009,
I was extremely nervous, as I stood at the airport and was trying to
figure out what to say, when I finally saw him. I said: “You know,
I was waiting for you so long to get a signature in 1990, but no luck.”
He give me a friendly smile, and I knew I had nothing more to be
nervous about; our guest was not a star, he was a great and a kind
man, and we shall have a friendship that lasts. This, however, is a
different story…
Story by: Ara Tadevosyan, Aram Araratyan, Eleonora Araratyan, Mariam
Manoyan, Sirvard Amatuni, Lilit Khachatryan, Anna Simonyan.
http://www.mediamax.am/en/news/modern-history/6538