Sen. Kerry: Engage! Tour Iraq by Humvee, Drive Down to Najaf

Sen. Kerry: Engage! Tour Iraq by Humvee, Drive Down to Najaf
by Robert Sam Anson
New York Observer
May 24, 2004
There is a way out of this fix: Mr. Kerry could go to Iraq.
John Kerry got in touch the other day.
It’s always nice to hear from a chum of 30 years ago, and considering
how busy he’s been with the campaign, taking time out to write seemed
awfully thoughtful. Especially with what’s been appearing in this
space.
Bubbling with anticipation, I ripped open the envelope.
If you checked “Democrat” last time you registered, you know what
dropped out. Because you got the same letter requesting “a most
generous contribution” to the Democratic National Committee. John
wrote (excuse me, Senator Kerry wrote): “Our tomorrow depends on it.”
A P.S. asking after the kids would have helped the medicine go down,
but even in his allons mes amis! to the barricades days, John won no
stars for being cozy.
As fund-raising goes, though, the two-page missive wasn’t bad. Mr.
Kerry’s signature appeared handwritten (testament to how clever
computers are getting), and between the “Dear” and the “Sincerely,”
he listed five good reasons to pull out the checkbook: Everyone would
have a job. You wouldn’t have to worry about breaking your neck or
quitting smoking, as you’d have affordable health insurance. Land,
sea and air would be pristine. Every school would be just like St.
Paul’s. There wouldn’t be any racial, gender or sexual discrimination
— and you could join a union, or have an abortion. In fact, you
could even stick up a bank, if you wanted, confident that when the
cops caught you they’d at least read your Miranda rights. Mr. Kerry
was emphatic about that. “When I am President,” he promised, “we will
end the assault on our civil liberties and civil rights by appointing
an attorney general whose name is not John Ashcroft.”
Readers with elephant memories will recall that in his convention
acceptance speech in 1968, Richard Nixon made exactly the same
promise. And sure enough, soon as Tricky took the oath, Ramsey Clark
had to pack. So, General Ashcroft, be warned: Unless Mr. Kerry
changes his mind between now and Inauguration Day (this could
happen), those secret plans you’ve been making to stay on in the new
administration will be inconvenienced.
And what did Mr. Kerry say about Iraq?
Not one word.
Well, maybe he forgot; it’s been a hectic week.
First, he had to stay on message — health care premiums! — when
everyone else on the planet was talking about Abu Ghraib.
Then he had to explain why, if he cared so much about the unemployed,
he was off campaigning instead of staying in Washington and casting
the one vote needed for the Senate to extend for 13 weeks benefits
for the Americans who’ve flat run out of luck finding a job.
Then he had to pretend he had a snowball’s chance of carrying
Arkansas by traipsing down to Little Rock, where he accomplished his
actual mission — paying obeisance to the fund-raiser-in-chief — by
lauding Bill Clinton for so many virtues (including turning him into
a Razorback football fan) that the L.A. Times reporter lost track
after a dozen. But Teresa no doubt filed away one suggestive line:
“Whatever President Clinton did,” her husband said, “it worked for
him.”
Throughout, Mr. Kerry strove mightily to avoid saying boo about Iraq.
“We’re all interested in what’s happening,” he told a reporter,
assuring he was bearing up under all the pestering about the war.
“But life goes on and we’ve got to make America strong here at home.”
The Tar Baby finally stuck to him, when he was forced to view the
unexpurgated Abu Ghraib slide show the military brass was putting on
for Congress. Emerging from the snoop-safe Capitol Bijou, Mr. Kerry
pronounced the images of torture and humiliation “sickening” and
“appalling” — subsequently amplified by “depraved and sad.”
His review was several shades paler than the seemingly genuine horror
George Bush has been expressing — but sufficient for political
purposes. Unfortunately, though, Mr. Kerry rambled on, wrecking what
had promised to be his first flip-flop-free week in many moons by
assigning blame to “a group of people run amok, under what
circumstances we have yet to determine.” Quick as you can say “Tom
DeLay” (who spent his week calling Democrats traitors), the Bush
campaign pointed out that only days earlier, Mr. Kerry was pinning
the Abu Ghraib rap on the entire chain of command, up to and
including the Commander-in-Chief. The G.O.P. press release seemed to
stir the normally stoic candidate, who shortly thereafter doubled
back to his first version.
Midst these events, Mr. Kerry issued what the Associated Press
described as “his fullest criticism yet” of Mr. Bush’s handling of
the war: “I mean, this is not a success,” he said. “I think that it’s
been one miscalculation after another, frankly.”
Weigh that for outraged megatonnage.
The young John Kerry had no trouble calling Vietnam “immoral.”
Indeed, the eloquence with which he rubbed the country’s nose in the
soul-staining consequences of that war was what brought him to
prominence. But in all the months he’s been running for President,
Mr. Kerry has yet to be quoted applying anything remotely close to
the “I”-word to Iraq, which is Vietnam’s equal in everything but body
count. Instead, he promises, “I won’t cut and run” — which is word
for word what Lyndon Johnson said about the place where Lt. Kerry won
his medals.
On the chance that a media conspiracy has been suppressing nobler
utterances, I typed i-m-m-o-r-a-l into the search box at
up came one mention, a speech on March 22
criticizing the “immoral” institutional bias of Medicaid.
“Conscience” was tried next. Six hits: a speech commending black
mayors for being on the “frontline of America’s conscience” (Marion
Barry presumably excepted); an address to the A.F.L.-C.I.O. in which
Mr. Kerry reported that his own had been pricked meeting workers on
“the short end of the stick”; an affirmation of belief, in his
announcement of candidacy, that the “conscience of Americans” would
preserve liberty forevermore; repeated injunctions that any woman
who’d consulted hers should be guaranteed the right to terminate a
pregnancy; condemnation of the Environmental Protection Agency for
lacking one; and a pledge to repair that deficiency once President.
The odds of finding “atrocity” seemed slim, given all the flak Mr.
Kerry’s been taking for having cited bona fide instances of it during
Senate testimony 33 years ago. Turns out, though, Mr. Kerry’s used
the term twice: once, to characterize the terrorist beheading of
Nicholas Berg (whose father was infinitely gutsier identifying the
ultimate culprits); the other, in a statement marking the 1915-1923
genocide of Armenians. (So as not to offend the sensibilities of
Turkish-American voters, the butchery was laid at the feet of the
“old Ottoman empire.”)
When Mr. Kerry, the self-proclaimed “entrepreneurial Democrat,” talks
about the dollars-and-cents aspects of the war, it’s a different
story. He suddenly becomes a veritable Billy Sunday of moral
indignation, branding as “disgraceful” the $ 200 billion and change
invested in the enterprise thus far.
With George Bush ringing up a lowest-ever approval rating of 42
percent, Mr. Kerry sees no need to recalibrate his ethical compass.
He’s content to proclaim his “sense of moral justice” only when it’s
not quite a matter of life and death; he did it last week, touring
Arkansas, flanked by those ubiquitous props, the buddies from ‘Nam:
The topic was V.A. benefits.
The strategy, as Newsweek’s Howard Fineman sums it up, “is pretty
straightforward: to be the guy people have no choice but to vote for
on Nov. 2. Not because he has such a stirring new vision (he
doesn’t); not because he’s such a darned likeable guy (he isn’t); but
because circumstances are such that fair-minded ‘swing’ voters have
no choice but to pick him.” The cynicism of this calculation is
positively Clintonian, and were Mr. Kerry a Republican, it might
work.
Alas, Mr. Kerry’s stuck being a Democrat, an eccentric breed that
actually believes — Bill’s experience notwithstanding — there are
things larger than winning, especially when a war’s on. Nowhere is
this fantasy more deeply inculcated than among tender-age party
members, whose inexhaustible doorbell-ringing, stamp-licking and
envelope-stuffing can be — remember “Clean for Gene”? — the
difference between victory and defeat.
For a taste of the youngsters’ mood, consider this open letter from
Megan Tady — a budding freelance writer in western Massachusetts —
posted on the Common Dreams Web site:
“Dear Mr. Kerry,” she wrote. “You don’t represent me. Who am I? I am
a young voter, like the millions of young voters across the country
who have been revved up by someone other than you. We have been
aching for a candidate we can really get behind. We found it in
Kucinich. We found it in Dean. We found it in Sharpton. We haven’t
found it in you.
“You may think this doesn’t matter. After all, we’ve vowed to vote
for ‘Anyone but Bush,’ making your job rather easy. You can throw a
few things our way — an MTV interview and a youth link on your Web
site — and then stretch out your arms and vacation in Idaho. The
consensus is we’d vote for Mickey Mouse if he was running against
Bush (and some of us will, writing him onto the ballot just to say we
did).
“But there’s a danger in the fact that we’re still having Meetups
about defeating Bush in 2004, not electing you. And while young
people are mobilizing to vote … there’s a catch to our enthusiasm:
we’re flippant, unpredictable. We lose interest easily. We don’t vote
for just anybody. If you don’t start picking up where Dean and
Kucinich and Sharpton left off, we either won’t vote, or we won’t
vote for you. We still have Nader/LaDuke bumper stickers on our
Hondas, if only because we couldn’t get them off. Still, it’s a
reminder of all the things we want in a candidate, but don’t have.
“Mr. Kerry, you are at great risk of losing thousands of voters to
disillusionment and disappointment. This is not meant as a threat,
but as a reality … We need you to start being our candidate, too.
And that means more than telling us to ‘Choose or Lose.'”
It’s not just the Megan Tadys who are fed up. Plenty of old foggy
Democrats are panicked, bewildered, frustrated or plain furious at
being stuck with such a conviction-free dud — when Mr. Bush is all
but presenting the keys to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue on a platter.
Polls aren’t required to understand the dismay, though a growing
bunch attest to it. John Kerry captured hearts by being a Silver Star
— winning, three-times-wounded hero. Since clinching the nomination,
though, he’s acted like a member of the Texas Air National Guard
downing brewskies in the PX. It’s bait-and-switch, like being
admitted to Harvard and finding yourself enrolled at Northeastern.
Various explanations are offered for Mr. Kerry’s transformation.
There’s the pure-cravenness theory; the brainwashed-by-Bill
hypothesis (visiting Arkansas, Mr. Kerry even mimicked his drawl);
the this-is-what-happens-to-liberals-when-they-hear-“Hail to the
Chief”-playing-in-their-head construct; and the latest — offered by
The Times this weekend in a report on Mr. Kerry’s social discomfiture
while attending boarding school — the
making-up-for-not-being-liked-as-an-adolescent syndrome.
Onto the mounting pile, let’s toss another: Call it “the combat
disconnect.”
When 7.62-millimeter metal starts flying around, you see, either you
got it, or you don’t. The choice is instant. Only it’s not really a
choice. It’s a reflex, born of who you inexplicably are or
inexplicably ain’t. The red badge of courage is pinned on by such
caprice. It’s only when the shooting stops and you have time to think
of the deadliness of what you just did, that the fear sinks in and
you want to throw up.
Face a crisis as a politician, and the equation’s stood on its head.
You have all the time in the world to debate consequences, commission
focus groups, listen to advisers, get petrified of making the wrong
move. That’s why there are only eight characters in Profiles in
Courage: After examining every political figure since the first
George W. was President, Jack Kennedy — a man with experience on
both sides of the hero divide — couldn’t come up with No. 9.
There is a way for Mr. Kerry out of this fix: He could go to Iraq.
Last week Donald Rumsfeld demonstrated the usefulness of the trip if
you’re trying to keep a job, and since Mr. Kerry’s already imitated
Republicans so often on Iraq, he might as well do it again in order
to get one. Stylistically, his hegira would have to be different,
however. Instead of barreling through, like Rummy, in an armor-plated
bus, as gunships circle overhead, Mr. Kerry ought to get behind the
wheel of one of those 14 year-old, cheesecloth-skinned Humvees the
Pentagon thinks perfectly adequate for grunt use. Then, without the
shadow of bodyguards (we don’t have enough to go around, anyway), he
should tool down to Najaf or Karbala for a front-lines look-see, just
like our guys are doing every day.
Yes, a lot of really bad dudes will try to kill him. But that’s the
whole point: He’s at his best when he’s being shot at.
Who knows? If the crack of a near-miss AK round jogs old memories,
John Kerry might return to being our hope.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

www.JohnKerry.com:

Archpriest Father Shahe Semerdjian, 88; ministered to Armenians

Archpriest Father Shahe Semerdjian, 88; ministered to Armenians
by Jack Williams, STAFF WRITER
The San Diego Union-Tribune
May 26, 2004 Wednesday
To a growing Armenian community in San Diego County, Archpriest
Father Shahe Semerdjian represented a new beginning.
Answering a demand for a place of worship, he conducted the first
official Armenian church service and divine liturgy in the San Diego
area in 1965 at St. Andrew Episcopal Church in La Mesa.
During the next decade, while holding afternoon Armenian services
each month at the rented St. Andrew parish, he helped raise funds to
build an Armenian church.
When St. John Garabed Armenian Apostolic Church moved into its
permanent site on 30th Street in Normal Heights in November 1977,
Father Semerdjian officiated in its first service.
Father Semerdjian, who based his ministry on building a bridge
between generations of Armenian-Americans of varying backgrounds,
died Saturday at his home in Las Vegas. He was 88.
The cause of death was a heart attack, said his son, Dick.
In November 1951, Father Semerdjian arrived at Ellis Island in New
York from Cyprus at the invitation of the archbishop of the Western
Diocese of the Armenian Church of North America.
“He had $10 in his pocket and two suitcases,” Dick Semerdjian said.
Father Semerdjian, along with his wife and two children, traveled
west to Fresno by train.
Assigned to St. Gregory Armenian Church in Fowler, he worked to
expand and reorganize the parish and founded a monthly publication,
“The Orchard.” Although he conducted services in Armenian, he
developed fluency in English as he became assimilated into the small
Central Valley community.
In 1962, Father Semerdjian was assigned to St. Peter Armenian Church
in Van Nuys, where he was based for the next 30 years.
When time permitted, he would address the needs of Armenians in San
Diego County, providing the impetus for organized services and the
founding of St. John Garabed Armenian Apostolic Church.
“Father Semerdjian was a very gentle, understanding person — an
inspirational and devoted clergyman,” said the Rev. Father Datev
Tatoulian, parish priest at St. John Garabed. “He visited San Diego
often, for anniversary celebrations and special occasions.”
When St. John Garabed parish celebrated its 14th anniversary, Father
Semerdjian was honored as a special guest.
Born in Antieb, Turkey, Father Semerdjian and his family were among a
wave of Armenian refugees who in 1925 were exiled from Turkey and
landed in Syria.
Father Semerdjian attended elementary school in Aleppo, Syria, and
high school and seminary in Lebanon. During World War II, he was
assigned a secretarial position in the British Army.
He was ordained into the priesthood in 1949 in Nicosia, Cyprus.
After moving to the United States, he embraced generations of
parishioners intent on preserving their religious heritage. “They
ranged from immigrants from the old country to an influx from the
Soviet Union,” Dick Semerdjian said. “There were American-born
Armenians and those who didn’t speak English.
“His ministry tried to bring them all together, especially in the Los
Angeles and San Diego areas.”
After retiring in 1992 as pastor emeritus in Van Nuys, Father
Semerdjian moved to Las Vegas, where he helped develop the newly
formed Armenian Apostolic Church.
He maintained a second home in Pacific Beach for many years, Dick
Semerdjian said.
The weekend before his death he had attended granddaughter Lindsey
Kellejian’s graduation ceremony at San Diego State University.
Survivors include his wife, Yeretzgin Alice; sons, Gregory of Tacoma,
Wash., and Dick of Carmel Valley; daughters, Mary Kellejian of Solana
Beach and Nanette Makaelian of Tarzana; a brother, Hagop Semerdjian
of Toronto; sister, Vahanoush Iskanian of Allepo, Syria; and 10
grandchildren.
Services are scheduled for 10:30 a.m. tomorrow at St. Peter Armenian
Church in Van Nuys. A graveside service is scheduled for 10:30 a.m.
Friday at El Camino Memorial Park, San Diego.
Donations are suggested to the Father Shahe Avak Kahana Semerdjian
Foundation, 101 W. Broadway, Suite 810, San Diego, CA 92101.

Armenian National Committee, Central California Demonstration Delive

Armenian National Committee, Central California
Post Office Box 626
Fresno, California 93709
PRESS RELEASE
May 28, 2004
Contact: Rich Sanikian
ANC Central California Demonstration Delivers Message to Speaker Hastert
Fresno, CA-On very short notice local community members spearheaded
by the Armenian National Committee Central California, Fresno
mobilized a demonstration in support of a coordinated national
effort to urge Speaker Hastert and Majority leader Frist to bring
this House Resolution 193 (H.Res.193) to a floor vote. The Armenian
Youth Federation, Homenetmen and community members represented a
youth contingent at the demonstration.
Speaker Hastert was in Fresno to attend a political fundraiser for
California Senator Ray Ashburn at Pardini’s Restaurant.
The demonstration received extensive coverage by local media outlets,
with news crews from the local ABC and CBS affiliates, KMJ Radio,
and featured an article in the local newspaper, The Fresno Bee.
Two hundred flyers were handed out and enlarged poster size replicas
representing the 100,000 postcards of the ANCA postcard campaign were
used as protest signs along with slogans stating, “Hastert Hear the
Cry From History” and “Hastert Holds the Genocide Vote Hostage.”
Speaker Hastert comments to local radio reporter Ron Statler was that,
“It has international consequences to it, and it’s something that
we have to work with the State Department on and the White House”
Hastert commented. Sattler stated that the Speaker “declined to say
what changes are needed or what the international implications are.”
ANC spokesman Richard Sanikian informed listeners about the nationwide
phone, WebFax and 100,000-postcard campaign calling on Speaker Hastert
and Senate Majority Leader Frist to take action on the measure.
“After a year, he’s not gotten back to us,” noted Sanikian.
H.Res.193 marks the 15th anniversary of the U.S. implementation of the
United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of Genocide.
If Speaker Hastert does not bring the resolution to a floor vote,
it will kill the measure by the end of the year.
For more information log on to
###

www.ancfresno.org
www.ancfresno.org

Prayer in the house of music

The Japan Times, Japan
May 30 2004
Prayer in the house of music
Self-starter conductor wants to work miracles
By TAI KAWABATA
Staff writer
It is common for Japanese classical musicians to study in Europe, but
Hisayoshi Inoue is a rarity. With only a diploma from a public junior
high school, Inoue journeyed to Vienna in 1979, at age 16, to pursue
his piano studies, and ended up staying there 24 years.
Japan Sinfonia conductor Hisayoshi Inoue
Inoue, who eventually switched to conducting, is now back in Tokyo
with a new dream. Last year, he launched the Japan Sinfonia to
realize his simple but difficult-to-attain ideal: to offer the best
possible music to audiences.
Inoue says that as musical director and conductor of the newly
founded orchestra, which has 45 regular members, he wants to raise
the bar for orchestras here. Orchestras in Tokyo tend to focus on the
money and lose sight of the music, he says.
“Under such circumstances, musicians are likely to become cogs in the
machinery,” he says. “Japanese orchestras also have this problem.
Each orchestra’s identity is weak.”
Japan Sinfonia will limit its concerts to once or twice a year,
financed mostly with corporate and individual donations, and devote
the bulk of its time to rehearsals. In fact, according to Inoue, some
of its members drop out because the rehearsal schedule is so hard.
Self-study
Inoue was first inspired to take up conducting when he was in ninth
grade, after seeing a rehearsal of the Yomiuri Symphony Orchestra
under conductor Sergiu Celibidache.
“They were rehearsing a crescendo in Respighi’s ‘Pines of Rome.’
Celibidache said something like: ‘Imagine the sound of Roman soldiers
marching on the Appian Way,’ ” Inoue recalled. “His instructions and
the rehearsal were full of such imagination, and I thought, ‘What an
amazing maestro!’ ”
Inoue says he learned more about conducting by watching rehearsals
than he did in the classroom.
“In those years, all the orchestra rehearsals in Vienna were open to
the public, except those of Herbert von Karajan,” Inoue says. “I was
able to go to them, see and listen to rehearsals by legendary
maestros such as Lovro von Matacic, Eugen Jochum, Evgeny Mravinsky,
Kirill Kondrasin, Karl Bohm and Leonard Bernstein. It was an
incredible privilege. Once, I was even able to ask Jochum questions.”
In the spring of 1981, he started regularly commuting to Munich, a
five-hour journey, to attend rehearsals by Celibidache. “I was
obsessed with his conducting,” Inoue said. “But one day, I realized
that I was merely copying Celibidache’s conducting, and that this was
wrong.”
So in 1985 he lengthened his commute: He would ride 12 hours on the
night train, from Vienna to Cologne, to study under a different type
of conductor. For Gary Bertini, an Israeli conductor whose favorite
composer is Mahler, Inoue eventually worked as a unpaid assistant.
Inoue’s conducting debut came in March 1992, when he led the Czech
State Philharmonic Orchestra, Brno. He had been invited by the
orchestra’s manager, who had scouted Inoue after a conducting
contest.
In September 1993, he received a bigger break when Loris
Tjeknavorian, principal conductor of the Armenian Philharmonic
Orchestra, invited him to serve as the orchestra’s principal guest
conductor. He was given carte blanche to conduct whatever pieces he
wanted to. “For a 30-year-old conductor like me,” Inoue said, “it was
a fantastic opportunity.”
He says he did every conceivable piece and composer, including
Mahler, Shostakovich, Prokofiev, Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky and
Khachaturian, the best-known Armenian composer.
His association with the Armenian orchestra continued to 2002.
“Through my experience with this orchestra, I accumulated knowledge
and a repertoire, which are crucial for a conductor,” Inoue said.
Higher ground
Marriage to a Japanese woman brought him back to Tokyo in 2003.
“I had time to think. And I thought that as a Japanese with a long
experience in Europe, I have something that I can share with
Japanese, something that I must do here,” Inoue said. So he hit on
the idea of creating a new orchestra, and many musicians offered to
help.
His goal is a lofty one: to re-create the image the composers impart
to each particular composition and convey those compositions as
vibrant, living entities to audiences.
“Japanese orchestras only have a fixed, patternlike image of each
composer. This pattern for Mahler, this pattern for Beethoven and so
on,” Inoue said. “But they don’t have an image concerning a
particular composition. Each one must have a different image.”
For musicians to fulfill their task, just analyzing the score is not
enough: They must have the ability to understand the social, cultural
and historical factors behind the composer and his compositions,
according to Inoue. “When playing Shostakovich’s music, for example,
our thoughts must go as far as: Why did the Soviet Union come into
being? What is Marxism-Leninism? Who was Stalin?” Inoue says. “In the
case of Khachaturian’s Symphony No. 3, we have to be aware that the
composer must have been thinking of the 1915 massacre of Armenians by
the Ottoman Empire.”
The audience responded positively at the Japan Sinfonia’s first
concert in December 2003, but Inoue said there is much room for
improvement. For the upcoming second concert, Inoue and the Japan
Sinfonia will visit milestones in the history of classical music:
Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D-Major and Schubert’s Symphony No. 8
in C-Major.
Inoue believes that being a musician is a God-given privilege, and it
is the musician’s duty to find the meaning of life.
“A concert is not an extension of everyday life,” he says. “If you go
to a concert given by a great maestro, it is like prayer at a
religious service, and members of the audience are joined with the
musicians in a quest for the meaning of life.”
The second concert of the Japan Sinfonia will take place June 9, 7
p.m., at Dai-Ichi Seimei Hall near Kachidoki Station of the Oedo
subway line. Edward Zienkowski, professor at the University of Music
in Vienna, will play the violin for Beethoven’s concerto. Webern’s
Five Moments for String, Op.5, will also be played.
For tickets (5,000 yen, 4,000 yen; and 2,500 yen for students), call
(03) 3706-4102, 050-7505-5643 or e-mail [email protected]
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

Exhibit uses obsessive compulsive behavior as theme

Wilkes Barre Times-Leader, PA
May 30 2004
Exhibit uses obsessive compulsive behavior as theme
Art ‘Monk’ might like
By HELENA PAYNE
Associated Press Writer
BOSTON – A Boston artist has dedicated a museum exhibit to the type
of behavior that causes some to separate their M&Ms into colors, pop
bubble wrap until there is no more plastic to crush and focus all
their attention on the most minute detail out of pure obsession.
The exhibit at the Boston Center for the Arts is called “OCD,” as in
obsessive compulsive disorder. Curator Matthew Nash said it’s not
about an illness but how the creative process can be driven by a
series of obsessions and compulsions.
“You should see my studio,” said Nash, who has shown his art in
Boston, Chicago, New York and Italy.
He is one of the people who separates his Skittles, M&Ms and Reese’s
Pieces into separate containers for each color. He used the latter
two sugary goods to create his art for the “OCD” exhibit, which lasts
through May 9 and showcases artists from Pennsylvania, New York and
Virginia.
Using the Halloween-like colors in the candies, Nash made a grid that
forms the images of soldiers, planes and other war-related pictures.
“The obsession of this is having bins and bins of M&Ms and hoping
when you’re done it looks like something,” Nash said.
Nancy Havlick has bins with objects separated by color, but they’re
filled with sugar eggs. In an attempt to fuse her multicultural roots
– English and Armenian – with her American upbringing, she decided to
start her own tradition.
With the sugar eggs, Havlick creates “rugs.” Make no mistake, they
aren’t to walk on.
The eggs are colored with a mixture of spices and foods often used in
Armenia, including mahleb, sumac, almonds, apricots, paprika and
rosebuds. She organizes them in decorative patterns on the floor.
“I’m deciding my own tradition. Rather than looking backwards, I’m
forging ahead,” Havlick said, laying one of the eggs in its position.
Havlick said she didn’t recognize her obsession with making sugar
eggs until she realized she has been doing it for a decade. But she
also has realized another fixation: carving out an identity from her
multiethnic past.
In her parents’ generation, Havlick said, it was much more common to
assimilate to the American culture rather than celebrate differences.
“My mother wasn’t cooking Armenian food. We were having hot dogs and
hamburgers,” she said.
The sugar eggs have become her own way of bridging the past to the
future and a way “to control the chaotic feelings” of life, she said.
Many of the exhibitors wanted their art to express something about
both the creation process and the result.
New York artist Jason Dean wanted to conquer bubble wrap after
working for an animation company where he did a lot of packing. So he
decided to make it an art project and see how much time it would take
for him to pop the largest roll of bubble wrap he could find: 110
feet by 4 feet. It took about six hours.
That roll and other smaller ones are mounted on a wall of the exhibit
like paper towels above a kitchen sink. There is also a video that
features Dean’s “popping spree.”
“I kept thinking that they were a lot louder,” he said. “It just
sounded like fireworks, and I kept thinking that someone is going to
question this odd sound.”
Joseph Trupia, another New York artist, used office supplies to make
drawings called “What I can do in 40 hours” and “What I can do in 8
hours.”
Another work in “OCD” shows 600 photographs of rear ends.
“It was kind of a silly thing to do at first, and it became a
document of the process of looking,” said Boston artist Luke Walker
of his gluteus photography.
Norfolk, Va., artist Jennifer Schmidt became fascinated with the
repetition of filling in ovals on test score sheets.
“The idea of the artwork showing evidence of repeated activity is
something we see in a lot of different forms,” said Martha Buskirk, a
fellow at the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute in
Williamstown, Mass., and author of “The Contingent Object of
Contemporary Art.”
The clinical disorder is even more consuming, said Diane Davey, a
registered nurse and program director of the OCD Institute at McLean
Hospital in Belmont.
“Obsessive compulsive disorder is really defined as someone who has
unwanted or disturbing intrusive thoughts and who engages in a set of
behaviors that are meant to sort of neutralize the thought and help
them to feel less anxious,” Davey said.
Davey said an exhibit like “OCD” might help someone to question his
or her own behavior and seek help if necessary.
AP PHOTOS
Boston artist Nancy Havlick installs her artwork, ‘Sugar Egg Rug,’ at
the Boston Center for the Arts in Boston in March as part of the
exhibit ‘OCD,’ as in obsessive compulsive disorder. The exhibit runs
through May 9.
Boston artist Matthew Nash stands in front of his artwork ‘Children’s
War’ at the Boston Center for the Arts in Boston.

LA: Greeks bring food, music, life to festival

Greeks bring food, music, life to festival
By Rachel Uranga, Staff Writer
Los Angeles Daily News, CA
May 30 2004
With the smell of roasting meat wafting through the air and notes of
Greek music echoing through the crowd, thousands gathered Saturday
for the opening of the Valley Greek Festival.
The free event at St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church is scheduled to
continue from 1 to 9 p.m. today and Monday. It is expected to draw
50,000 revelers by its close, many who come year after year to enjoy
food, music and dance, as well as to see old friends.
“We look forward to this festival every year,” said Sonia Siekertzian,
a Granada Hills resident who, with her Greek-Armenian husband, has
not missed the event in its 31 years.
Put together by more than 300 church parishioners, the all-volunteer
effort yields tons of souvlaki — a Greek shish kebab — and oodles
of other Greek delicacies.
Parishioners began baking some of the 14 varieties of desserts —
including baklava and kourambiethes (a shortbread) — in January to
ensure the festival had the 48,000 pastries needed for the spread.
And rivaling Krispy Kremes are loukoumathes, a kind of Greek doughnut
hole, served warm. But there’s plenty of other food for those without
a sweet tooth, including tiropita (cheese pie), moussaka (a casserole
with eggplant, meat and potatoes), spanakopita (spinach and cheese pie)
and dolmades (grape leaves stuffed with rice).
“This is the way that we give back to the community,” said Peter
McCarty, a 47-year-old Northridge volunteer who could be found under
a white tent Saturday cooking up loucanico, a sausage flavored with
orange peels. Married to a Greek and himself Irish, McCarty said only
the music rivals the food.
Holding his 5-year-old daughter piggyback style, Toma Popescui stood
beneath a tree, watching traditional Greek folk dance.
“Seeing somebody’s culture is something amazing,” said the
28-year-old. “And the food is unbelievable.”
Rachel Uranga, (818) 713-3741 [email protected]
IF YOU GO: The 31st Valley Greek Festival, from 1 to 9 p.m. today
through Monday at St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church at 9501
Balboa Blvd., Northridge. For more information, (818) 886-4040 or

www.valleygreekfestival.com.

“Karabakh Or Death” Plaque Wavered From Boulevard Tower

“Karabakh Or Death” Plaque Wavered From Boulevard Tower
Baku Today
Politics
Baku Today 29/05/2004 12:49
Four members of Karabakh Liberation Organization (KLO) climbed up
the tower in Baku’s national park, boulevard, on Friday, waving
Azerbaijan’s flag and a plaque with the words “Karabakh or death”
written on it.
Akif Naghi, head of KLO, said the action was aimed at reminding Baku
residents about Karabakh on the Republic Day – May 28. Naghi added
that his organization would continue actions of the same kind so that
ordinary Azeris do not forget Azerbaijan’s occupied territories.

Frozen assets

Guardian, UK
May 29 2004
Frozen assets
James Buchan enjoys Orhan Pamuk’s evocation of Anatolia, Snow, but
finds there’s something missing
Snow
by Orhan Pamuk, translated by Maureen Freely
436pp, Faber, £16.99
Orhan Pamuk’s new novel is set in the early 1990s in Kars, a remote
and dilapidated city in eastern Anatolia famed less for its mournful
relics of Armenian civilisation and Russian imperial rule than for its
spectacularly awful weather. Snow, “kar” in Turkish, falls incessantly
on the treeless plains and the castle, river and boulevards of Kars,
which the local scholars say takes its name from “karsu” (snow-water).
In this novel, the city is cut off from the world and also, to an
extent, from normal literary reality by three days of unremitting
snow. Written, the reader is told, between 1999 and 2001, Snow
deals with some of the large themes of Turkey and the Middle East:
the conflict between a secular state and Islamic government, poverty,
unemployment, the veil, the role of a modernising army, suicide and yet
more suicide. Pamuk’s master here is Dostoevsky, but amid the desperate
students, cafés, small shopkeepers, gunshots and inky comedy are the
trickeries familiar from modern continental fiction. The result is
large and expansive, but, even at 436 pages, neither grand nor heavy.
Pamuk’s hero is a dried-up poet named Kerim Alakusoglu, conveniently
abbreviated to Ka: Ka in kar in Kars. After many years in political
exile in Frankfurt, Ka returns to Istanbul to attend his mother’s
funeral. He is then commissioned by an Istanbul newspaper to write
an article about the municipal elections in Kars and investigate a
succession of suicides by women and girls in the city. In his role
as journalist, Ka trudges through the snow interviewing the families
of the girls. He learns that they are committing suicide because of
pressure by the college authorities to take off their headscarves
in class. (Compulsory unveiling succeeds just as well as compulsory
veiling, which is not very well.)
It soon emerges that Ka is not greatly interested in headscarves but
has come to fall in love with his old Istanbul schoolmate, Ipek, who
has ended up in Kars and is separated from her husband. Meanwhile,
his lyric gift returns to him with a force bordering on incontinence,
and he is forever plunging into tea houses to get his latest poem
down in a green notebook. Another narrator, called Orhan Pamuk,
tells the story not from the notebook, which is lost or stolen, but
from notes in Ka’s handwriting that he finds four years later in the
poet’s flat in Frankfurt.
The book is full of winning characters, from Ka himself to Blue, a
handsome Islamist terrorist with the gift of the gab, an actor-manager
and his wife who tour small Anatolian towns staging revolutionary
plays and coups de main, and Serdar Bey, the local newspaper editor,
who has a habit of writing up events and running them off his ancient
presses before they occur. There are many fine scenes, including one
where a hidden tape records the last conversation between a college
professor in a bakery and his Islamist assassin.
Yet there are literary judgments that some readers will question. The
first is to omit Ka’s poems. The green book has been lost or stolen
and what remain are Ka’s notes on how he came to write his 19 poems
in Kars and how they might be arranged on the crystalline model of
a snowflake. That is quite as dull as it sounds: really, in a book
so expansive and light, the only dull passages. Incidentally, what
verse there is in the book, copied from the wall of the tea-shop,
is worth reading. One senses that Ka is a poet visiting Kars because
the poet Pushkin visited Kars (on June 12 and 13 1829).
Pamuk also decides to stage his two narrative climaxes as theatre.
The first of these, in which soldiers fire live rounds into the
audience from the stage of the National Theatre in Kars during a
live television broadcast, is a fine job of writing and translating,
but the effect is the same as with the descriptions of Ka’s poems. The
second literary layer makes the matters at issue both fainter and less
persuasive. Pamuk likes to undermine and destabilise each character by
introducing a degenerate counterpart: not merely Ka/Pamuk, but Ipek
and her almost-as-beautiful sister Kadife, the two Islamist students
Necib and Fazil, and so on.
This playfulness or irony may be a response to a literary dilemma. To
use a European literary form such as the novel in Turkey is,
in an important sense, to ally oneself with European notions of
individualism, liberty and democracy that even when they are upheld
(rather than breached) are meaningless to traditional Muslims.
Liberty in Islam is the liberty to be a Muslim, democracy likewise,
individualism likewise.
Pamuk knows that as well as anybody and dramatises it in a raucous
scene in which a group of leftists, Kurds and Islamists gather in a
hotel room to write a letter to the Frankfurter Rundschau. He also
anticipates his critics by having Serdar Bey accuse Ka in the Border
Gazette of being so “ashamed of being a Turk that you hide your true
name behind the fake, foreign, counterfeit name of Ka”. In fact, the
best sentences in the book are those entirely without any playfulness,
or indeed any artistry, such as this one, where Ka remembers the almost
permanent state of military coup d’état of his Istanbul childhood:
“As a child he’d loved those martial days like holidays.”
A more serious challenge to novelists in Turkey, Iran and the Arab
world is that the events of September 11, the Moscow theatre attack
and Abu Ghraib are both more romantic and more desperate than even
Dostoevsky could have dreamed up and written down.
· James Buchan is the author of A Good Place to Die, a novel set
in modern Iran. Orhan Pamuk appears at the Guardian Hay Festival on
Monday May 31. See hayfestival.com for details.

Bush Points the Way

Bush Points the Way
By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF
New York Times
May 29 2004
I doff my hat, briefly, to President Bush.
Sudanese peasants will be naming their sons “George Bush” because
he scored a humanitarian victory this week that could be a momentous
event around the globe – although almost nobody noticed. It was Bush
administration diplomacy that led to an accord to end a 20-year civil
war between Sudan’s north and south after two million deaths.
If the peace holds, hundreds of thousands of lives will be saved,
millions of refugees will return home, and a region of Africa may
be revived.
But there’s a larger lesson here as well: messy African wars are
not insoluble, and Western pressure can help save the day. So it’s
all the more shameful that the world is failing to exert pressure on
Sudan to halt genocide in its Darfur region. Darfur is unaffected by
the new peace accords.
I’m still haunted by what I saw when I visited the region in March:
a desert speckled with fresh graves of humans and the corpses of
donkeys, the empty eyes of children who saw their fathers killed,
the guilt of parents fumbling to explain how they had survived while
their children did not.
The refugees tell of sudden attacks by the camel-riding Janjaweed
Arab militia, which is financed by the Sudanese government, then a
panic of shooting and fire. Girls and women are routinely branded
after they are raped, to increase the humiliation.
One million Darfur people are displaced within Sudan, and 200,000
have fled to Chad. Many of those in Sudan are stuck in settlements
like concentration camps.
I’ve obtained a report by a U.N. interagency team documenting
conditions at a concentration camp in the town of Kailek: Eighty
percent of the children are malnourished, there are no toilets,
and girls are taken away each night by the guards to be raped. As
inmates starve, food aid is diverted by guards to feed their camels.
The standard threshold for an “emergency” is one death per 10,000
people per day, but people in Kailek are dying at a staggering 41 per
10,000 per day – and for children under 5, the rate is 147 per 10,000
per day. “Children suffering from malnutrition, diarrhea, dehydration
and other symptoms of the conditions under which they are being held
live in filth, directly exposed to the sun,” the report says.
“The team members, all of whom are experienced experts in humanitarian
affairs, were visibly shaken,” the report declares. It describes
“a strategy of systematic and deliberate starvation being enforced
by the GoS [government of Sudan] and its security forces on the
ground.” (Read the 11-page report here.)
Demographers at the U.S. Agency for International Development estimate
that at best, “only” 100,000 people will die in Darfur this year of
malnutrition and disease. If things go badly, half a million will die.
This is not a natural famine, but a deliberate effort to eliminate
three African tribes in Darfur so Arabs can take their land. The
Genocide Convention defines such behavior as genocide, and it obliges
nations to act to stop it. That is why nobody in the West wants to
talk about Darfur – because of a fear that focusing on the horror
will lead to a deployment in Sudan.
But it’s not a question of sending troops, but of applying pressure –
the same kind that succeeded in getting Sudan to the north-south peace
agreement. If Mr. Bush would step up to the cameras and denounce this
genocide, if he would send Colin Powell to the Chad-Sudan border,
if he would telephone Sudan’s president again to demand humanitarian
access to the concentration camps, he might save hundreds of thousands
of lives.
Yet while Mr. Bush has done far too little, he has at least issued
a written statement, sent aides to speak forcefully at the U.N. and
raised the matter with Sudan’s leaders. That’s more than the Europeans
or the U.N. has done. Where are Tony Blair and Jacques Chirac? Where
are African leaders, like Nelson Mandela? Why isn’t John Kerry speaking
out forcefully? And why are ordinary Americans silent?
Islamic leaders abroad have been particularly shameful in standing
with the Sudanese government oppressors rather than with the Muslim
victims in Darfur. Do they care about dead Muslims only when the
killers are Israelis or Americans?
As for America, we have repeatedly failed to stand up to genocide,
whether of Armenians, Jews, Cambodians or Rwandans. Now we’re letting
it happen again.

CD: Sergey Khachatryan: Sibelius, Khachaturian, violin concertos

Andante
May 29 2004
Sergey Khachatryan
Sibelius, Khachaturian, violin concertos
Sergey Khachatryan was born in Yerevan, the Armenian capital, in
1985. He comes from a family of musicians. From childhood onwards,
he benefited from broad cultural horizons that favoured the musical
career of which he dreamt. He began the violin at the age of five. The
following year, he began his studies at the Sayat Nova Conservatory in
Yerevan, continuing them in Germany when his family settled there. The
exceptional qualities of this young virtuoso were revealed at a
concert with the Orchestra of the Hessen State Theatre, Wiesbaden;
he was then nine years old. From then on, foreign trips and prizes
followed at regular intervals, with many concerts, all over Europe
– Germany, Switzerland, Finland, Portugal, Spain, Italy, France –
as well as in the USA, South America, Russia and Armenia.
The coming seasons are rich in exciting projects: with the Philharmonia
Orchestra, with the BBC Philharmonic conducted by Neeme Järvi, with
the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam, the Tokyo Philharmonic
Orchestra under Vladimir Fedoseyev. then partner Anne-Sophie Mutter
in Bach’s Double Concerto with the London Philharmonic.
When one asks Sergey Khachatryan which violinists he admires most,
he unhesitatingly speaks of the supreme genius of the Soviet school.
Above all, he evokes the magnetic tutelary figure of David Oistrakh.
Sergey Khachatryan’s first recording, released in EMI’s ‘Début’
series in 2002, allowed us to meet a violinist blessed with a glowing
sonority and with musical intelligence rare in so young a musician.
Now he has recorded for Naïve two concertos that figure among the
jewels of the violin repertoire.
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