Queer Armenian Stories: Hagop Najarian

The relationship between Armenian parents and their LGBTQ+ children often ends with a strained relationship or complete loss of family. 

Armenian parents and families fear what they don’t know, or what the community deems “unnatural.” Instead, they’d rather hide the truth from themselves and friends by denying the “queer” part of their child. 

I gather hope for the Armenian community through cis-gendered straight men like my brothers. They support and love me unconditionally. 

These two men held me tight, cried and danced with me during the traditional “mother-son” dance at my wedding. Our community needs more people like my brothers.

“Love All” Graphic designed by Hagop

The text has been published with kind permission from Azad Archives and Hagop Najarian

Discover our Archives: Unearthing the life of Elena Kudian

The Elena Kudian archive is an important collection of this famous musician in the past.  At the same time Elena Kudian’s small archive taught us how to approach archives, and how to write women’s history, through a feminist perspective. We are very excited and at the same time very careful over how we keep and catalogue her archive. 

Elena Siranoush Kudian was born in Bath, to a British father and an Armenian mother. She married Mischa Kudian, whose archive was donated to the Armenian Institute. Mischa Kudian was a well-known translator of Armenian prose and poetry in the United Kingdom, whose work I will cover in subsequent blogs. Until we unpacked Mischa Kudian’s archive we did not realise these boxes held the treasures of this famous woman pianist, of her times and of her life as part of the British Armenian community.

Elena Kudian

Elena and Mischa’s archives are embedded in each other. The effort they have made to archive their own work is quite astonishing. Mischa dedicated his life to translating Armenian literature and was well known across the English-speaking world. Both archives include details about the Mashtots Press in London and details about Mischa’s and Elena’s lives. They have photographs and details of their travels in Armenia, which provide another perspective on Soviet Armenia. As Mischa and Elena Kudian’s archival materials are integrated, the cataloguing of both will proceed in parallel. We completed the bundling process which helped us review and create ideas for our future events. Upcoming plans for the research process include trying to access other archives which might include Information about Elena Kudian’s life and career. Through limited research, we are able to suppose that Elena Kudian’s archive will not only highlight her artistic skill but will also provide insight into 1950s Britain’s classical music scene, through the life stories included in this important community archive. Meanwhile, we are still finding out about the details of her life by going to various archives in London as well as conducting interviews with people who can give more of an account of her life.

Even though Elena Kudian’s  is a small archive, it is enough to surprise us about the past through her life. We are so happy to house her material and we will be happy to create access to a part of her life through these documents and the materials.  Through our social media platforms and from this blog diaries, we will go on sharing updates about this unique and nice archive. 

Elena Kudian’s archive also inspires us to contribute and reconstruct the history of Armenian cultural memory in Britain by focusing on lesser-known people's lives and to look at the community from gender and LGBTQ+ perspectives.

Dear friends, any sources you know or any acquaintance with Elena and Mischa Kudian, please drop us a line; we would be happy to hear from you and will appreciate your contribution. Any voluntary contribution to support our archives will also be greatly appreciated. 

By Sahika Erkonan, the Armenian Institute deputy librarian and archivist

Queer Armenian Stories: Aren Adamian

It’s rare to meet fellow Armenians, let alone fellow Queer Armenians (I call us Quarmos). Although I’m proud of my culture and sexual orientation, it’s been a journey learning to intersect the two identities and get to a place of embracing both unapologetically. It’s difficult growing up trying to navigate and understand who you are when you feel like you don’t fit in with either group.

Growing up going to everyday Armenian school, I was made fun of for being feminine. The first time someone called me gay, I was in the first grade. I had no idea what it meant, but from the derogatory tone it was said in, it sounded ‘bad’ and carried so much shame with it. Even outside of school, at Armenian functions, to this day, I notice people staring and from the look on their faces, I know what they’re thinking.

After a lifetime of excitement, learning, and seeing pictures, I finally got to visit the motherland two years ago. Oddly enough, out of all of the countries I’ve traveled to, I felt the most uncomfortable and unsafe in Armenia. In broad daylight, I was followed. I had people take nonconsensual photos and videos of me on their phones. Strangers came up to my face, clicking their tongues and grilling me with their eyes. People said rude things as I walked by, believing that I didn’t speak our language.  Everyone stared — aggressively or humorously, pointing while laughing with friends. Usually, this kind of stuff doesn’t bother me, but being in my homeland hit me hard. They didn’t see me as one of them. They didn’t even see me as a human, because I’m different in their eyes. I came back from Armenia angry at our people and feeling less proud to be Armenian. I can’t imagine the struggles our LGBTQ+ community living in Armenia faces every day.

For me, there is something incredibly powerful in living my truth—out, proud and Armenian.

All this being said, I don’t allow these experiences to dim my shine. Although coming out is different for each individual, for me, there is something incredibly powerful in living my truth—out, proud and Armenian—being able to express myself, live proudly, and break the barriers of shame that coexist in both identities. I don’t think it’s fair to generalize all Armenians as homophobic. However, homophobia is very prevalent within our community. I know many people who have experienced homophobia and have decided to distance themselves from the community. Fortunately, for me, the Armenians I surround myself with are open-minded and hearted and do not have any issues with my sexuality.

Does the community have heavy learning and accepting to do? Absolutely. We all do, to varying degrees. Growth never ceases and we can continue to learn through dialogues just like this. At the end of the day, regardless of what language we speak, our ethnic origins, religious beliefs, the colours of our skin, or our sexual orientations and identities, we are all human and aspire to live the same fulfilling life. We must allow the voices of Armenians, whose identities intersect in many ways, a platform to share a glimpse of our stories.

The text has been published with kind permission from Azad Archives and Aren Adamian

Queer Armenian Stories: Alexandria Kazandjian

To openly say I am a queer Armenian is a privilege I never thought I would have. I have gone from feeling outcast from my community for not speaking Armenian to coming out directly to the Armenian community as a nonbinary lesbian. Understanding identity, whether it be related to ethnicity, gender, or sexuality, can be a challenge in an ever-changing environment. The way I have defined my own identity has evolved as I have grown. 

When I was younger, I allowed myself to be influenced by the barricades erected by others to prevent me from feeling comfortable identifying a certain way. As a non-Armenian speaker, my experiences in Armenian circles felt defined by what made me less Armenian. I could not engage as cohesively with other Armenians based on my Armenian knowledge. I was a picky eater and thus rarely ate Armenian food or knew how to make common Armenian dishes. I compared myself to the Armenians around me and allowed their negativity and exclusion to make me feel disconnected from the Armenian community. 

I had a similar experience within the LGBTQ+ community. Initially identifying as bisexual, I felt that I was perceived as less queer by the rest of the community and thus found myself performing my queerness instead of focusing on how I defined queerness for myself. My ideas of gender and sexuality were shaped by the way I thought I was perceived by society and therefore my labels existed to reinforce an inaccurate conception of myself. In conjunction with this false identity, I felt detached from stereotypical queer experiences and preferences. My discomfort with my own queerness ran deeper than the dissonance I felt as a queer Armenian.

Not until I introspected did I begin to understand what being Armenian and being queer meant to me. Over time, I have begun to define my Armenian identity, not by what makes me feel not “Armenian enough,” but by how I connect with being Armenian. My connection to Armenian art and culture as well as my active involvement in Armenian spheres has made me realize that my Armenianness came from within. My gender identity and queerness have followed a similar path. Previously, I had not noticed the constraints my unintentional performance of gender and sexuality had placed on my ability to define myself as who I am. This past year, I have reconstructed my ideas of gender and pronouns and disconnected entirely from the concept of gender as a binary. Again, this idea of self comes from within. My identity is defined by my own experiences and my relationship with the ideas I am relating to. 

Understanding the fluctuation of identity too has helped me define my identities. Recognizing that nothing can make a person “less” of any identity has allowed me to embrace the ways I conceptualize my identity today. If my relationship to gender, sexuality, or ethnicity changes in the future, that does not invalidate my experiences and identity. No matter what, I will always be a queer Armenian. As an Armenian community, we need to create more spaces where people of all identities feel included and accepted. Armenian spheres are fracturing because they are polarizing and feel unsafe for Armenians who exist outside the concept of a “typical” Armenian. The same can be said about queer spaces. Gatekeeping and pressure to adopt labels make many members of the community feel disconnected from the population they expected to feel most welcomed by. 

To my fellow queer Armenians who are still struggling with their identities, you are allowed to exist in queer (and) Armenian spaces as you are. The only person who needs to be comfortable with your identity is yourself and you do not owe anyone an explanation or your self-conception. There is no one queer experience nor is there one Armenian experience. It is the uniqueness of our stories that makes our communities so rich. 

The text has been published with kind permission from Azad Archives and Alexandia Kazandjian

Khosrovidukht of Goghtn

Two Armenian women poets, Sahakdukht of Siunik (Սահանդուխտ Սյունեցի) and Khosrovidukht of Goghtn (Խոսրովիդուխտ Գողթնացի), flourished in the eighth century. No doubt there would have been other women poets before and after them, but their works have not survived. As her name implies, Khosrovidukht was the daughter of Prince Khosrov of Goghtn (now in the territory of Nakhchivan Autonomous Republic) and sister of Vahan of Goghtn. She wrote this poem in memory of her brother after his martyrdom in 738.

The translation is by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian (Anthology of Armenian Poetry, New York: Columbia University Press, 1978)

More Astonishing

More astonishing to me
than the lyrics made for you,
more amazing than the music composed
for your death,
is the sound of the sobbing mourning
you, Lord Vahan, chosen of God.

Let me be inspired in that clear part
of my soul, to compose songs for you too,
but not songs that mourn;
but joyous, exhorting praises for your work,
blessing you, servant of Christ.

Although you found your labor,
and your ascetic self-denial
which is so terrifying to my body's nature,
more rewarding than praises,
let me praise, oh blessed Vahan, lover of Christ.

Let those outsiders
who built upon vanity
go down in defeat.

Let your soul rest in divine light,
oh blessed Vahan, chosen of the free.

Brave martyr, it was while performing
unselfishly against the nations of the south
that you were fixed forever
as an immortal and blessed ruler of Goghtn.

Զարմանալի է ինձ

Առաւել յորդորէ այս զհոգւոյս մասունըս,
Յօրինել քեզ երգս ո՛չ զղջականըս,
Այլ հոգևորըս, և ուրախարարըս,
Յորդորականըս, և ներբողեանըս,
Ո՜վ երանելի տէր Վահան, ծառայ Քրիստոսի։

Զարհուրեցուցանէ զքոյ ճգնութիւնդ
Զմարմնոյս բնութիւնըս.
Իսկ դու առաւել գտար.
Ո՜վ երանելի տէր Վահան, սիրող Քրիստոսի։

Արտաքնոցըն ըզգաստքըն
Ստեղծիչ բանք սնոտեացն ի պատրութիւն.
Իսկ քոյդ սիրայնոյ՝ աստուածարեալ և ոգեշահ․
Ո՜վ երանելի տէր Վահան, ընտրեալ յազատաց։

Որպէս քաջ նահատակ,
Պատրաստեալ ի պատերազմ,
Կատարեցեր զընթացըս քոյ,
Արիաբար՝ յազգացն հարաւայնոյ,
Դասաւորեալ ընդ անմարմնականսն.
Ո՜վ երանելի տէր Վահան, Գողթնեացն իշխեցող։

“More Astonishing” - “Sharakan” choir, voals - Armenuhi Seyranyan | "Զարմանալի է ինձ" - "Շարական" անսամբլ, Մենակատար՝ Արմենուհի Սեյրանյան:

By Gagik Stepan-Sarkissian

Armenian Legends and Poems

Some scans from Zabelle Boyajian’s Armenian Legends and Poems

AI Celebrating Pride: Queer Armenian Library

A literary moment or literary movement?

J.P. Der Boghossian, founder of QAL

J.P. Der Boghossian, founder of QAL

This month, the Queer Armenian Library, the International Armenian Literary Alliance, and Hye-Phen Magazine co-hosted a panel and a reading of Queer Armenian writers. Two events of historic significance. Certainly prior to this there have been readings of Queer Armenian writers and facilitated discussions, but two global events through Zoom with writers and attendees from Yerevan to Los Angeles was certainly historic.

These events confirm an epochal moment for Armenian literature. Never have we had a genre which we can call Queer Armenian literature. Over the past two decades dozens of writers of novels, poetry, memoirs, short stories, and essays created it. Against the odds in some cases. Many authors wrote in isolation. In other cases, Queer literary organizers published anthologies and launched digital platforms, but did so in opposition to, or without the support of, Armenian organizations. And this work builds on the pioneers of the twentieth century, from poets like Charents and Tekeyan, to fiction writer George Stambolian, and memoirist Arlene Voski Avakian.    

Yet, after these two events I am hesitant to continue to call it a genre. We may have a literary movement on our hands. We generally know literary movements as the “—isms” (realism, romanticism, naturalism, etc.); and, while bookstores would call Queer Armenian literature a genre and then place it on the subgenre bookshelves of Armenian literature or LGBTQ literature, the more likely comparison may be the Harlem Renaissance or the Black Arts movement or the New York School.

 Instead of a physical location (Harlem or New York), we have the vast expanse of the internet, through which writers can now connect into a larger and emerging community of writers. The themes of this potential new movement include challenging the norms of Armenian relationships, interrogating gender roles, queering ideas of intimacy, challenging nationalism and colonialism simultaneously, and providing new explorations of Armenian identity.

At the panel, Armen Ohanyan suggested the idea that minority discourse may be a better framework for Armenian identity as all Armenians find themselves as part of a minority. This minority identity could be more universal for Armenians, instead of only using language, faith, or residence (not all Armenians speak Armenian, not all Armenians are members of the Apostolic Church, and not all Armenians live in Armenia). Queer Armenian writers would be better positioned to explore this idea of Armenian identity as they are a minority within a minority. During the panel, this discussion led to the recollection of previous arguments that Armenian identity itself could be considered queer.  

But more importantly, these themes are not limited to Queer authors or Armenian authors. This movement could be part of a larger movement with deeper implications for the larger SWANA and MENA regions and their corresponding diasporas.                 

Perhaps the idea of a Queer Armenian literary movement is an overreach, too grandiose. But despite the diversity of styles, subject matter, and mediums, a consistent thread throughout Queer Armenian writing is its audacity to imagine, to love, and to speak necessary truths.

By J.P. Der Boghossian

AI Celebrating Pride: GALAS

In 2018, in celebration of GALAS' 20th anniversary,  the Board of Directors approached a long standing community member and filmmaker Jacob Halajian to make a short film honoring the history, legacy and current work of GALAS LGBTQ+ Armenian Society. This documentary captures the spark and catalyst that started what we now know to be GALAS.  An interview with Azad Mazmanian, reveals publicly for the first time, the harrowing challenges she experienced as one of the first openly LGBTQ+ Armenians in Los Angeles.  The documentary tracks the early days of GALAS as well as its current relevance in our community. Hear first hand, the very personal experiences of our LGBTQ+ Armenian community and how an organization dedicated to the support, safety and success of individuals in the LGBTQ+ Armenian community has come to be and continues to flourish.