Nova dance troupe starring in Armenia

Friday, June 23, 2006
TownOnline Watertown TAB
By Noah Bein/ Correspondent

For the first year that he was a member of an Armenian dance group, Apo Ashjian did not dance a single step.

As a recent immigrant to the United States from Beirut, Lebanon, in 1970, the 14-year-old Ashjian felt too shy even to hold the hands of the female members in the dance ensemble, a small local group that was one of many Armenian cultural endeavors in which his parents rushed to enroll him after their move to America.

Despite his initial adolescent timidity, Ashjian faithfully attended each rehearsal.

But eventually he did begin to dance and soon developed an affection for the cultural heritage of his homeland that would continue to grow throughout his life.

"My parents’ only concern immigrating to America was that ’oh my God, if we don’t get our kids involved in Armenian things, they’re going to lose their heritage. They’re going to lose their roots. They’re going to lose their language,’ " Ashjian said.

More than 30 years later, the importance of cultural tradition resonates deeply with Ashjian, a compact, energetic man with short black hair and deep, arching eyes who is the founding director and choreographer of Sayat Nova Dance Company of Boston, a nonprofit, Watertown-based Armenian dance ensemble currently celebrating its 20th year.

Sayat Nova has big plans for its anniversary, with all 72 members journeying to Armenia this weekend for a seven-show tour that will make stops at several smaller villages before a climactic final performance at the opera house in the capital city of Yerevan.

In addition, the company has scheduled a chance to reach its largest non-Armenian audience yet with two shows at Boston’s Cutler Majestic Theatre this fall.

Since its inception as an independent ensemble in 1986, the company - named for a legendary Armenian troubadour - has performed throughout the United States and Canada. Its performances present audiences with Ashjian’s interpretative blend of authentic Armenian footwork, bright traditional costumes and symbolic storytelling, which attempts to portray the struggles and triumphs of a people plagued for centuries by hardship and persecution.

Ashjian said he collects the creative material for his dances during trips to Armenia, where he travels the country and often meets with Artousha Karapetian, his former instructor who has scoured the nation’s many small villages for years in search of authentic, regionally diverse dance techniques.

It is from this traditional foundation, Ashjian said, that the creative process begins.

"I keep the ethnicity within all those footsteps, but I put it in a very jazzy choreography," he said, equating his approach to the modern medley of pop and Irish folk dancing used in the hit show "Riverdance."

The result of Ashjian’s work is accurate and authentic, according to Liana Sarkisova, 24, a Sayat Nova dancer who began her training as a child in Armenia before migrating to the United States at age 16 via Russia.

"When I moved here, and I found out there was an Armenian dance group active and alive and traveling, I was really excited," she said. "... I came to practice once, and I loved it because it was exactly the way I remember it was from Armenia."

Practice, practice, practice

At a marathon, four-hour Sunday rehearsal this past weekend at the Watertown Middle School in preparation for the Armenian tour, the group appeared loose but focused. A jovial mood broke out among the dancers during a lunch break, but several yells from the director sent them scurrying into position. Another Ashjian command and the dance began.

The music was frantic and triumphant, with wailing melodies and a frenzied, rolling drum beat. On stage, male dancers in black tights and white T-shirts moved briskly around in quick formation, bouncing their feet lightly to the intoxicating rhythm.

After the dance, three of the men - Levon Kurkjian, Bob Parsekian and Manoug Habibian - took a break to discuss their introduction to Armenian dance, which they said occurred mostly through local Armenian schools, through commutes from Worcester.

The men all cited camaraderie as a reason for continuing with the company, but, they said, there’s also the exhilaration of performing.

"When you do that last stomp on stage after every dance and the crowd goes crazy, it’s like hitting a three-point shot with a second left," said Kurkjian. "It’s like I get that same thrill, that same adrenaline going through your body."

That excitement is part of what Ashjian said he believes will result from the group’s opera house show, a performance that Ashjian said will be attended by a large number of the singers, artists, composers and choreographers who make up "the art life of our country."

"When you step into the opera house, you’re actually making a statement about who your dance company is," Ashjian said.

In a different sense, however, the group’s identity is solidified much more by its place within Armenian heritage than by its artistic statements.

For generations, the small Middle Eastern nation struggled in the face of violence.

Despite a native exodus and worldwide diaspora created by historical adversity, many communities, both at home and abroad, vigorously maintain artistic traditions. Ashjian noted, for instance, that there are currently hundreds of authentic dance troupes in Armenia performing in much the same way Sayat Nova has done in Watertown.

Although the company made one other trip to the homeland for its 10th anniversary in 1995, turnover in the group is high, and Ashjian is quick to point out that currently only 11 members have ever visited the country.

"I want to take these kids there so they can feel the soil, talk to people," he said. "What happened? How is it that we kept our country?"

The scattering of Armenians across the globe would seem to pose a risk of cultural diffusion and a weakening of ethnic bonds. But many Sayat Nova members said a strong sense of pride and spirit provides hope for those who remain in Armenia.

"The dance represents the past, the present [and] the future," said Hagop Ashjian, an assistant director of the group and the younger brother of Apo. "We danced things on the genocide era ... Now we’re basing our dances to the future, and we’re trying to forget a little bit of the past."

"[The Armenians] feel that once people leave Armenia, then Armenia is lost [and] everything is lost," he adds. "When we bring that back to Armenia, they fill up with so much pride, whether we dance good or not. They’re so proud because what they’re working for, all the troubles they’re going through ...[are] actually worth it."

Tanya Mikaelian, 25, a dancer who started hanging around group rehearsals when she was 13 and has been involved with the group for nearly half her life, recalls an exhibition of this sense of gratitude near the end of the 1995 Armenia trip.

At the close of the final show in the capital, after a rousing performance of a dance dedicated to Armenian soldiers fighting on the country’s behalf, Mikaelian said several uniformed military men stood up in the back of the auditorium, lit a flare and proceeded onto the stage, where they outfitted the elder Ashjian with their military garb and happily embraced him.

"It was amazing to see how generous and how happy people were with what they had, even though they don’t have much," Mikaelian said. "It was very nice to see how giving people were back then."

Ashjian said he believes his dancing can help return the favor. "When you finish with such patriotism in the show, people understand that you’re projecting your pride and your spirit of who you are," he said. "You’re appreciating the whole audience that’s in Armenia [by saying] ’thank you for what you’ve done. You’ve survived for us to be able to continue work like this.’"

Note: Above are excerpts from the article. The full article appears here. Clarifications and comments by me are contained in {}. Deletions are marked by [...]. The bold emphasis is mine.