2015, 14th Istanbul Biennial
12 disproportionately large heads are placed in an installation, next to the docks, at the Istanbul Modern. These are severed entities sitting at their own silent vigil on the shores of a city they were driven from – vanished and disappeared – 100 years ago.
It is my desire to have them return, even if only in my imagination and however briefly, before sending them onto their last journey and resting place in Armenia.
Years ago (1980) I wrote the following poem which perhaps crystalizes the idea and the message behind this work. This is English translation of the original poem written in Armenian.
* * *
We are not harassed off the Earth as yet…
Our eyes are not blind, insane…
Bottomless ravines of our mountains
have not been disturbed…
We are still humans.
The world has become
a sprinkler of gazes…
Let me speak
of martyrs,
the wise,
and the children…
of memories born in grief…