This is the first year that I have stayed up into the wee hours waiting for the final results of the Eurovision song contest. I was always mildly interested in Eurovision and how Armenia fared--but 2010 was different.

Armenia, gracing the stage in Oslo with the absolutely fabulous Eva Rivas, came up with the best pop song I have heard them deliver--"Apricot Stone." The audience in Oslo, where the contest was held, gave Eva rapturous applause. Her performance I thought was really amazing, well choreographed and very lively. Unfortunately, most of Europe didn't agree. Germany taking 246 points won first place, with their performer Lena's song, "Satellite."

UPDATED:  Armenia ended up taking seventh place. Turkey and Romania took second and third place, respectively. As for Armenia's immediate neighbors, Azerbaijan came in at fifth place while Georgia took ninth.

Here's how some of the countries voted for Armenia:

Russia gave 12 points--the most possible from a single country--to Armenia, thanks in part to the 2 million Armenians there.

Greece gave 7.

France gave 6.

Spain gave 8.

Bulgaria gave 8. (10 to Turkey, 12 to Azerbaijan)

Ukraine gave 6. (8 to Turkey, 10 to Russia, 12 to Azerbaijan)

Latvia gave 1--thanks Latvia.

Cyprus gave 7.

Belarus gave 5.

Belgium gave 7.

The Netherlands gave 12 (the Dutch and the Armenians have a long, amicable history together).

Israel gave 12 (probably to annoy Turkey since they're not the best of friends at the moment).

Macedonia gave 4.

Moldova gave 6.

Georgia gave 10. (8 for Azerbaijan)

Sweden gave 1--no more Swedish meatballs for me (not that I ever ate them anyway, nor do I even know if they are actually Swedish).

Armenia, incidentally, gave 8 votes to Ukraine, 10 to Russia, 12 to Georgia.

Google should get out of the future prediction business.

Labels: Arts and Entertainment, Music

As I write this I am watching the Ukraine's contender Alyosha in the Eurovision 2010 contest sing her ballad, "Sweet People." In about 15 minutes Eva Rivas will be on--she is already predicted to take second place according to the soothsayers at Google with her tune "Apricot Stone," which I must admit is pretty catchy. It's nearly 1:30 am. Yerevan is extremely anxious, there is a huge party around the pond near the Opera House. The entire block has been closed to traffic. There a stage was set up for a pre-finals performance, various acts played including Andre, Inga and Anush and a group of three drummers, the name escapes me, who were fantastic. At one point one of the lamp posts caught on fire, most likely due to the shoddy electrical wiring, and the lights went out, thus no microphones. They banged away regardless, keeping spirits high, tricolor flags were waving, the sweet scent of sunflower seeds cracking was in the air. It's always pleasant watching people having a blast of a time.

As soon as the final results are confirmed I will post them. I don't remember Armenia ever being so excited about the Eurovision contest.

Labels: Arts and Entertainment, Music

Last night I was privileged to attend a stellar concert performed by the legendary Borodin String Quartet, celebrating its 65th year, in Yerevan's Opera House. It ranks as one of the greatest live classical performances I have ever heard.

The Borodin Quartet opened their first set with Alexander Borodin's dreamy Nocturne, the third movement from his lovely String Quartet No. 2. Then they switched gears to perform the demanding, yet haunting String Quartet No. 8 by Dmitri Shostakovich, who was arguably the best classical composer the Soviet Union ever produced and is certainly on the top 10 list of the greatest 20th century musical legends of the international stage. The second part of the program was dedicated to Tchaikovsky's Quartet No. 2, which is a longer, beautiful work I had not previously heard. So it was an all-Russian bill for Yerevan's audience.

The members of the Borodin Quartet are Ruben Aharonian, first violin, Andrei Abramenkov, second violin, Igor Naidin, viola and Vladimir Balshin, cello.

I own several recordings by the Borodin Quartet, all legendary performances, which include their namesake's gorgeous String Quartets Nos. 1 and 2 and all 15 of Shostakovich's quartets. So when I saw the billboard last week in front of the Opera House advertising they were about to arrive in Armenia, I was compelled, even obliged to go see them; nothing was about to keep me away.

On my Borodin Quartet recording of the 8th, a reissued Melodya disc from 1978, only Abramenkov from the current lineup is found, who is the second, second violinist the Quartet has had, joining in 1974 replacing Yaroslav Alexandrov. No one from the original lineup is left in the group. The quartet, founded by students of the Moscow Conservatory, started performing as early as 1944 but changed its name to the Borodin Quartet 11 years later. Cellist Valentin Berlinsky, one of the original members of the group (in reality his predecessor was the great Mstislav Rostropovich), retired in 2007 and died the following year. Aharonian, who was born in Riga, joined in 1996, as did Naidin. Balshin came on board in 2007, replacing Berlinsky.

The eighth string quartet is considered by some to be Shostakovich's greatest. It was his most personal work and that is obvious at first hearing. With my limited knowledge of classical music, I don't know of another composition for string quartet that possesses the emotional range this work presents to the listener. At the onset the notes set a mysterious, yet poignant mood, and then for the second movement, the allegro molto, it explodes in a thunderous, rapid rush of sound. The third movement is a bit more playful before the largo of the fourth moves in, with its knock-knock-knock theme, as if to represent someone, a stranger, rapping on the front door. At the end, the theme of the first movement returns, to close the work with an intense fade out (nearly ruined incidentally by premature applause).

From my position I was able to see just how the music was created, in other words which instrument took the lead at any one time. For instance I was surprised to observe the cello coming to the fore to play a part that sounds as if it is actually for violin when you hear the recording. The four captured all the nuances and compelling climatic moments that so moved me on the original recording I have. It was if I was hearing the recording performed on stage exactly as taped, that's how tight this quartet is.

On the Borodin Quartet's web site I ran into this text, which explains a lot:

Igor Naidin, who joined as viola player after Dmitri Shebalin retired in 1996, says: “Shostakovich watched over the Borodin Quartet’s development through its first generations. You could say he gave his blessing to the quartet’s playing of his music. Of course, the members who played his quartets to him before they were heard in public remembered all his remarks about interpretation, and the way of playing that met with his approval. Mr Berlinsky was the guardian of this tradition--we have received the ‘information’ from him, and as the next generation we will look after it."

I was joking with my wife that the Borodin Quartet is the Rolling Stones of string quartets. The group is enduring, uninhibitedly so, and with age keeps getting better. The Aram Khachaturian Hall was packed for the occasion, and I would guess that nearly half the audience was under the age of 25. In the upper balcony we were sitting mostly with students studying at the Yerevan Conservatory, many of who brought along their instruments, as if to join in spiritual communion with the musicians on stage.

This concert was held "under the patronage of the President of Armenia Serzh Sargsyan," who regrettably for him did not attend as he missed an amazing, probably once-in-a-lifetime performance--he was represented by his wife, Rita. The last time the quartet performed in Yerevan was six years ago--it must have been around the time I was just getting prepared to move here, otherwise I would have attended for certain. There's no telling when I will have another chance to see the magnificent Borodin Quartet again. It was indeed a musical experience of a lifetime.

Labels: Arts and Entertainment, Music

This morning my wife and I were having a conversation about the transformation of Armenian society after I began to rant about rudeness taking hold of the way people function day in and day out. This is a recurring theme for me unfortunately in my experience in Armenia and small things, even completely unrelated to rudeness, can set it off, like a useless trip to the store to buy bread that hadn’t yet been delivered.

I complain to her about my inability sometimes to go through the day, when I am not in the office, to accomplish something without getting into a kind of hassle with someone who gets in my way of doing what I intend. It could be something simple like buying apples in the open market, for instance, or as difficult as registering a car. Although it is certainly not an everyday occurrence, I have noticed that my mood can change abruptly when I sense that someone is trying to take advantage of me or is going to make me wait for the service I am paying for.

Or else, it has to do with simple kindness and consideration for others. At all hours of the night, for example, you can hear horns blaring outside the apartment building where I live, which is in a downtown residential neighborhood. People beep their car horns to indicate they are about to run a red light or to make a taxi driver, who is half asleep in the middle of his 24-hour shift, move his Lada through the intersection.

She shared with me that she also has to cope with rudeness on a daily basis, and although she understands the mentality behind it, she is still unable to deal with it. She mentioned some days she doesn’t even want to leave the house to avoid people, and I sometimes feel the same.

That’s because along with the increase in material wealth comes inconsiderate behavior. Seems the more stuff people get, like a new or used car, and the more they are able to do with this newfound wealth, the more likely they will develop arrogance and pompousness. They will be more brazen in the way they strut down the sidewalk, as if they owned it, and even how they park their cars—on the corner of an intersection making turning problematic for other drivers or on the sidewalk, thereby blocking the path of pedestrians. People, young and old alike, talk a lot louder now, while on their cell phones or chatting with buddies along the curb. And, they tend to argue more.


In the car on the way to work this morning I came to realize that perhaps the advance of arrogance in response to increased personal wealth is not necessarily an Armenian trait. Arguably the same problem occurs in all societies. A Wall Street banker who has been working for 10 years and has acquired a lot of stuff since he was first employed is likely to be more arrogant and pigheaded than he was at the start of his career. You could probably say the same about a villager in Congo who earns more money trading at the market now than he did a year or two prior. When you get more stuff, you are proud you have it and everyone else has to know about it. Perhaps it’s human nature.

Money changes people. It’s no different in Armenia. The problem is, I expected it to be. I didn’t want to see people acquiring wealth to forget about their humble backgrounds and where they came from, to lose their sense of benevolence. I cannot change the “vochinch” mentality and the “this is not a country” doctrine that many people live by day to day, but I expect people to still be kind to one another, to be patient and tolerant of each other’s quirks or what they don’t yet have. Am I being naïve?

Labels: Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural, Thoughts and Musings

I will have to say that the only time I seem to experience stress nowadays is when I am behind the wheel. With the supposed 400,000 vehicles on the road in Armenia, excluding countless vehicles registered in Georgia but constantly cruise Yerevan’s chaotic streets, it’s an ordeal to get around town, especially when no one watches where they’re going. The subject of driving in Armenia is a reoccurring theme on this blog because it's a pertinent reflection of modern day Armenian society.

Drifting from lane to lane without signaling or looking in the rearview mirror is a normal thing. The only way to deal with it is to employ defensive driving. For some reason right turn signals have been installed at busy intersections, so now I find myself having to avoid getting into a collision with taxi drivers who drive recklessly, throwing caution to the wind by turning without looking to the left. Then there are the drivers of expensive European automobiles to watch out for—these guys usually speed 60 or more miles per hour in zones where the limit is 30 mph maximum. The chance of getting pulled over matters little to them since they’ll mostly like pay a bribe no matter how high and continue on their way.

With the wavering quality of gasoline also comes hard knocks. I fill “premium” gas in my Niva since there is a notable difference in performance from the “regular” stuff. Although there is usually a 20 or 30 dram difference in price per liter, the higher cost is definitely worth it. Nevertheless, the quality of premium varies between gasoline dealers, and even if you keep going to a particular station regularly, you may be given inferior fuel at any given time, depending on what they get. So when I am sold bad gas, the engine knocks and the car stutters, making driving in city traffic even more problematic. I used to buy gas from a guy in the Aresh quarter of Erebuni who was selling high-quality fuel out of his garage, employing funnels to fill tanks from 5-liter jugs ordinarily used for selling spring water in supermarkets. But now that he lost a law suit his neighbors opened due to some tiff between them he’s relocated to another spot in the neighborhood that I have yet to find. At least now he has a gas truck.

Then there are the jaywalkers, which I have complained about on this blog before. They have the uncanny habit of weaving between cars in slow traffic and even darting out in front of them while cruising. Now you see people crossing the street at dedicated crosswalks, but when you stop for them you run the risk of being rear ended by a clueless driver who isn’t accustomed to yielding the right of way to pedestrians. I am much more afraid of hitting a pedestrian than another car, the problem is that bad.

But those are the risks you take in Yerevan. I live downtown but work a few miles north in an office building next to the Gomidas market, so I don’t have much of a choice. I’ve heard that driving in other places is even more treacherous, like in Beirut where cars supposedly drive down sidewalks. Here people sometimes park on sidewalks, but I wouldn’t be surprised if drivers start following the Beirut model before long.

Labels: Film and Art, Personal Experiences

Having visited the Boston area for the last two weeks, I realized how important being immersed in cultural diversity was for me.

Boston one of the most ethnically diverse cities on the US East Coast, arguably second to New York. There is a mélange of cultures—Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Irish, Indian, Italian, French, Mexican, Brazilian, Vietnamese and Venezuelan all immediately come to mind. There are various reasons for that mix—mainly work related but also because Boston as an educational hub attracts people from all over the world wishing to attend one of the dozens of top-notch colleges and universities that Massachusetts has to offer. From Africa to Armenia, people immigrate to Boston to tap into that knowledge trove and culture base. Boston is also home to some of the most renowned museums in the world. It hosts several music conservatories and art schools, so the city is a Mecca for arts and music. And the multicultural influence is taken for granted because it is hardly noticed anymore—it’s everywhere you go.

In Armenia, as I have hinted at previously on this blog, ethnic diversity is confined primarily to the city’s center and is rather downplayed. World cultures are represented as caricatures rather than defined, conclusive examples. Indian culture is perhaps the most obvious since the Armenian ties, mostly economic, with India are strong. Each year at least one trade fair is hosted and thousands of Armenians go to buy various Indian goods like clothing, jewelry and even furniture. Russian-dubbed Indian films shown on TV have always been popular. There are also hundreds of Indian students attending Yerevan State University. Iranian presence is also noticeable with Farsi spoken on sidewalks and phrases written on some shop windows meant to entice Iranian customers. So you do have a multi-ethnic presence, although it is subdued.

As for general cultural diversity, there’s a lot more work to be done. Armenians are mostly Russian influenced via the media. They buy their cars and consumer goods from Dubai or Europe and their clothes are produced in Turkish sweat shops. And most of them strive for a homogenous, uniform style that is rarely deviated from. Most men for instance still look like they just walked out of portal from an episode of the TV sitcom Happy Days. Yet when Armenian citizens demonstrate diversity in thought or expression, it can be perceived that they are anti-establishment or even anti-Armenian.

You can argue that Armenian society is perhaps becoming more tolerant of diversity, but there’s still an infinite amount of work to do in that realm. Armenia can’t rely on restaurants to showcase world cultures; there should be more acceptance of global individualism and identity.

This time around it was more difficult for me to return to Armenia. But now that I am here I am not experiencing the “culture shock” that I anticipated—I was convinced that I would. Boston’s still on my mind and I am still in a sort of Boston mode as I write this, 14 hours after my return. Seems that time travel is getting more difficult for me as I get older.

Labels: Film and Art, Personal Experiences