BY DAVID ARAKELYAN
The towering figure of Komitas occupies its unique place in Armenian culture. The founder of modern Armenian classical music dedicated his life to reclaiming native melodies from adulterating influences of foreign tunes and laid the foundation for the future development of Armenian musicology. His monumental effort helped restore the identity of a nation, suffering under foreign yoke and enabled the preservation of folk songs and musical traditions that would have been otherwise lost in the calamitous years of the Armenian Genocide.
Komitas’ tragic life, which mirrored the fate of his own people, has given him an almost mythical dimension and has made him a symbol of suffering of an entire nation. In this brief work, I will try to elucidate the importance of this gifted composer, ethnographer, teacher, choirmaster, and singer, whose works penetrate the soul of every Armenian and serve as a powerful representation of the rich musical tradition of a small and resilient tribe.
The man who spent his life gathering folk songs in the Armenian Highlands was born in the city of Kutahya in Western Turkey, far from his ancestral home, the village of Tsghna in Nakhichevan. His parents, the melancholic carpet-weaver Taguhi and the jovial cobbler Gevork, had ‘contrasting temperaments,’ but shared deep love for traditional music and had even composed melodies that were widely performed in their hometown.[1],[2] Gevork, along with his brother Harutyun, also played folk instruments and sang at the local St. Theodoros Church. It was in this environment that Soghomon Soghomonyan (Komitas) was born on September 26, 1869. Soghomon was only six months old when tragedy struck: his 17-year-old mother passed away (March, 1870), possibly from tuberculosis, leaving the infant Komitas in the care of his father and paternal grandmother, Mariam.[3]
In 1876, Komitas entered grade school, where instruction was in Turkish, and upon graduation (1880), he was sent to further his education in Bursa, where his maternal grandparents lived.[4] Unfortunately, the young Soghomon was forced to return to Kutahya four short months later due to the sudden death of his father (May 17, 1880), who had developed dependence on alcohol in the aftermath of his wife’s tragic passing.[5] The loss of both parents at such a young age left Komitas ‘virtually homeless…, [wandering] the streets hungry, crying, and sleeping on the cold tiles of the laundry room.’[6] This collapse of ‘familial and social structure… placed his young… psyche in a precarious condition,’ something that would haunt the priest for the rest of his life.[7] The plight of the homeless child, so similar to the plight of his people, deprived of their Homeland and dispersed throughout the world, was later immortalized by Komitas in his folk lyric masterpiece, Antuni.[8]
In September of 1881, a pivotal event took place in Komitas’ life. The Primate of Bursa, Gevork Dertsakian, chose the young Soghomon, already known for his beautiful voice, from among twenty local orphans to take with him to Echmiadzin (Vagharshapat).[9] Soghomon was to be introduced to Catholicos Gevork IV, who had requested that an orphan boy be brought to the Mother See to be enrolled in the prestigious Gevorkian Seminary.[10] The Catholicos, known for his love of music, was brought to tears by the child’s performance of Luys Zvart (Gladsome Light) and agreed to accept him into the seminary, despite the fact that Komitas did not speak Armenian and communicated exclusively in Turkish. A familial bond immediately developed between the young orphan and the elderly Catholicos, which was cut short by the death of the Armenian Hayrapet[11] the next year (1882). The fate deprived Soghomon of his beloved patron, and he became an orphan yet again.[12]
Despite these challenges, the time Komitas spent in Echmiadzin – first as a student (1881 – 1893) and then, as a teacher (1893 – 1895) – was ‘a period of emotional and intellectual stability,’ when Soghomon was able to heal from childhood wounds and grow both personally and academically.[13] It was also within the protective walls of the Mother See that the young man developed love for the works of Khachatur Abovyan and passion for music.[14] Since Armenia had historically been conquered and divided between various empires, there was no ‘organized musical culture’ in the country, and music was ‘composed and disseminated orally.’[15] In addition, a ‘mixing of the genres’ had taken place throughout this period, particularly during the 12th and 13th centuries, ‘when elements of Arabic modes began to appear in urban Armenian instrumental music’[16] and in subsequent centuries, when the livelihood of Armenian troubadours (gusans, ashughs) ‘depended on their ability to please their patrons, who were often ethnically Persian,… or Turkish.’[17]
Due to these conditions and because of the loss of the key to interpreting the medieval Armenian notation system known as khaz, the church sharakans (chants) which were also conveyed orally, had been notably influenced by the traditions of the neighboring people and ‘the personal musical tastes of the choristers (tiratzu).’ It was only in the villages that the Armenian peasants had preserved the ‘improvised pieces reflecting the vicissitudes of rural life,’ and only they could serve as a basis for reconstructing the development of Armenian music and gaining knowledge about its origins. [18] Armenian musical tradition, then, meant Armenian folk tradition, and Komitas understood that better than anyone else.[19] Determined to prevent the disappearance of his nation’s rich musical heritage, ‘the note crazy priest’ (Notayi Vardapet, as he was affectionately dubbed by the peasants) took on the monumental task of collecting, transcribing, and harmonizing the peasant songs. This endeavor defined his life and shaped the future development of Armenian music.[20]
After his graduation from the seminary (1893), Soghomon assumed both the rank of an abegha (September 1893) and, as is customary in the Armenian Church, a new clerical name. The incoming Catholicos, Khrimian Hayrik[21] decided that given Soghomon’s interest in music, it would be fitting for him to take the name of the seventh-century musician-Catholicos, Komitas Aghayetsi.[22] Thus, the orphan Soghomon became abegha Komitas. During the same year (1893), the popular music teacher, Kristapor Kara-Murza[23] left the seminary due to various disagreements with the clergy, and Komitas was appointed to fill the vacancy.
For the next two years, Komitas worked assiduously to meet the expectations of his new patron and father-figure, Khrimian Hayrik, and was soon ordained as a Vardapet (February of 1895), a clerical rank that he retained for the rest of his life.[24],[25] As he published his first collection of transcribed folk music, Shar Akna Zhoghovrdakan Yergeri (The Folk Songs of Akn, 1895), Komitas became embroiled in a conflict with the conservative members of the clergy, who strongly disapproved of his musical innovations. They thought that it was inappropriate for a celibate priest ‘to write, sing, or teach love songs,’ which made up a big portion of his compendium.[26] The reactionary priests launched a persecution campaign against Komitas, and even went as far as to accuse him of sexual indiscretions. These attacks ‘deeply wounded’ the 26-year old Vardapet, who was ‘struggling to suppress his desire for romantic love’, and he asked the Catholicos for permission to move to Tiflis in order to continue his education in a different setting (October 1895).[27] For the next six months, Komitas prepared for the entrance exams ‘required by European conservatories’ under the guidance of Makar Yekmalian[28] at the well-known Nersisyan Seminary in Tiflis. Soon after, Khrimian Hayrik secured an 1,800 ruble stipend for his protégé from the Armenian oil magnate, Alexander Mantashian,[29] which enabled the young composer to travel to Berlin (June 1896) and enroll in the private conservatory of Richard Schmidt.[30]
The three years that Komitas spent in Germany (1896 – 1899) were a period of ‘relative autonomy,’ when the young Vardapet was free to explore his new surroundings and expand his knowledge of music.[31] While learning theory under the guidance of Schmidt, Komitas simultaneously studied philosophy at the Royal Berlin University. His quest for knowledge led him to investigate topics such as harmony (under Henrick Bellerman), folk music (Max Friedlander), and medieval neumes and chants (Osgar Fleischer). The information gathered in this process helped the composer in his future research on the Armenian khaz notation system and the formulation of his own views on musicology.[32] It was also in Berlin that Komitas became convinced that his people’s music required further study by both Armenians and odars alike, especially given the fact that ‘the roots of Armenian music [went] far into history, to the period of the emergence of the Armenian nation.’[33] Convinced of the unique characteristics of the Armenian musical tradition, Komitas refused to integrate German rules of harmony into his own style. This principled stance led to animated discussions with his teachers, who complained that ‘the eastern fanatic does not want to write like we do.’[34] Komitas conducted his research and continued his studies in rather difficult conditions. The composer did not speak German, and it is well known that the funds that were allocated for his education were not enough to cover his most basic expenses. Komitas could rarely afford more than one meal a day and his living conditions were ‘miserable.’[35] Despite these challenges, the young composer worked tirelessly to deepen his understanding of classical music, and by the time he returned to Echmiadzin (September 1899), Komitas was well-equipped to start the much-needed work of bringing Armenian music back to life from centuries of oblivion.
Compared to the bustling German capital, Echmiadzin was a provincial and backward town, which seemed too ‘narrow and suffocating’ for Komitas. He tried to cope with the boredom by focusing on his work: the Vardapet directed the church choir, taught at the seminary, and wrote multiple ‘theoretical and research papers.’ [36] By joining efforts with his friend and fellow lyricist, Manuk Abeghian,[37] Komitas traveled from village to village, collecting peasant songs and developing them into full-scale compositions. That effort culminated in the publication of the first part of a book of folk songs titled Hazar u mi Khagh (One Thousand and One Songs) in 1903, followed by its second volume printed two years later (1905). According to Abeghian, Komitas engaged his students in the work of collecting the songs, and even ‘distributed thousands of small pieces of paper… and asked them to transcribe the [melodies] they heard [during their summer vacations].’[38] The teacher was not idle either: along with Armenian tunes, he transcribed a number of Turkish and Kurdish melodies, which was the first time such a project was undertaken by anyone (particularly in the Kurdish case).[39] At the same time, through the use of the techniques obtained in Berlin, Komitas was able to make significant progress in the quest to decipher the medieval Armenian notation system (khazer), which, if successful, would have finally allowed him to ‘recover the ‘authentic’ Armenian musical language,’[40] as well as rid the hymns of the Armenian Church of Turkish influence and restore them to their original state.[41]
It is important to note that by the time Komitas began his career, the Armenian ‘professional’ music had already entered into a new phase of development. Komitas’ predecessors in both Eastern (Kara-Murza, Yekmalian, Tigranian) and Western Armenia (Yeranyan, Choukhajian) were engaged in the process of gathering and harmonizing Armenian peasant songs and presenting them to local audiences. However, Komitas went much further in his work by identifying the roots of Armenian music in the traditions going back to the pagan times, establishing that the Armenian people had an independent and unique musical tradition, and introducing that tradition to a wide European audience.[42] The Vardapet was the one who analyzed Armenian folk songs and rid them of foreign influences in order to distill what was essentially the pure Armenian musical tradition, which became the foundation of modern Armenian classical music.[43]
As Komitas’ biographer Ruben Terlemezian puts it, ‘if [Kara-Murza] was a talented propagandist of the Armenian music and [Yekmalian] was [a key] representative of the Armenian ecclesiastical musical [tradition], Komitas Vardapet was and will continue to remain as the most talented master of Armenian music.’[44] Over the years, Komitas distanced himself from both of his predecessors since he disapproved of Kara-Murza’s ‘approach to harmonization of Armenian [liturgy]’[45] and disagreed with Yekmalian’s stance that the Armenian music was a branch of the Persian-Arabic musical tradition and was not an independent entity of its own.[46] The Vardapet also created his version of the Surb Patarag (Divine Liturgy, published in 1933), which is still in use by the Armenian Apostolic Church. The Patarag by Komitas is viewed as his most important work and is considered to be a masterpiece of Armenian ecclesiastical music.[47]
Komitas’ work soon attracted the attention of progressive musical circles in both the Russian Empire and Europe. He was invited to participate in a conference dedicated to religious music (Berlin, 1901), and the report he presented on Armenian spiritual songs was received with great interest.[48] During his stay in the German capital, Komitas also conducted a lecture at the Berlin chapter of International Music Society. Since he was one of the first experts and the first non-European to join the Society when it was established by his teacher, Osgar Fleischer in 1899, Komitas was considered to be one of the founding members of this organization’s German chapter[49] and had even given his first lecture on ‘Armenian Folk and Church Music’ at one of its early meetings (May 10, 1899).[50] This was the beginning of the monumental task of introducing the Armenian music to European musicologists and later on, to the Western public, and proving to foreign audiences and academics that there was indeed an independent musical tradition maintained by the Armenian people throughout centuries of Turkish occupation. Presenting his people’s music to Europe was one of the greatest accomplishments of Komitas Vardapet, and the Armenian nation owes a debt of eternal gratitude to him for this effort that has earned the composer the title of the Apostle of Armenian Music.
Another important aspect of Komitas’ work was the establishment of musical ensembles and choirs, which performed his compositions and helped disseminate them among both the Armenians and the foreigners alike. During 1904 – 1905, the composer organized a series of highly successful concerts in Echmiadzin, Yerevan, and Tiflis, leaving the listeners in awe of the impeccable performances of his students and the innovative renderings of traditional Armenian tunes.[51] The geography of his tours continued to expand, and Komitas soon gave concerts in France (1906), Switzerland, and Italy (1907). His 1906 concert in Paris, in particular, earned great praise in the French press and was considered a phenomenal success in the quest to introduce the Armenian music to the Europeans.[52] As if this work was not enough to keep him busy, the Vardapet also released his compilation of restored rustic and love songs known as Hay Knar (Armenian Lyre, 1907) in Paris. These efforts not only ‘strengthened Komitas’ reputation for musical brilliance,’ but also made him ‘a source of pride for the Armenian communities scattered throughout Europe and the Caucasus’[53] and helped him succeed in the noble aim to ‘present the hidden treasures of his creative people’ to Western audiences.[54] The tours of these choirs also served as ‘connections for great numbers of Armenian youths that grew up far from their homeland, severed from their… roots. Komitas… reconnected them to their cultural heritage’[55] and helped establish a ‘cultural identity in the volatile years leading to the genocide.’[56] Years later, Catholicos Vazgen I[57] said of Komitas’ work on the preservation and dissemination of these native Armenian songs: ‘Just as Mesrop Mashtots brought to light the Armenian letters and presented the Armenian language to his nation and the world, so did Komitas Vardapet unearth, purify, and reveal the original source of Armenian music… and distribute its light to his people.’[58] Thanks to Komitas’ efforts, Armenian musical performances became a noteworthy component of the European cultural life.[59]
En route to Constantinople, Komitas visited his native Kutahya (September 1910), where he formed a 200-member strong chorus while spending time with some family members.[68] Upon settling in his new quarters at 83 Pangalti Street in the Pera neighborhood of Constantinople, which he shared with painter Panos Terlemezian,[69] Komitas once again used his talent as a brilliant choirmaster to assemble a group of students (both male and female, which was contrary to accepted norms) from the local schools to establish a professional choir. Soon, the newly-formed Gusan ensemble (soon renamed Hay Gusan (Armenian Minstrel)), consisting of 300 members, was giving concerts throughout the capital. By performing music that represented a ‘synthesis of ecclesiastical and folk elements,’ it attracted the attention of the local press and the Armenian community.[70] Through these performances and other fundraising efforts, Komitas hoped to collect enough money to realize his dream – establish an Armenian conservatory, which could help preserve and pass on the rich musical heritage of the Armenian people to future generations.[71] The composer placed a great deal of importance on the preparation of professional teachers and Armenian music textbooks, which were supposed to play a key role in the upbringing of the youth.[72] Unfortunately, Komitas’ dream of having a conservatory did not come true until after composer’s illness, and most of the funds raised from these concerts were spent on the publication of his musical compendiums.[73]
Though Komitas wanted to remain in Europe, the board of the Armenian Church in Paris decided that it could not afford to retain the services of a choirmaster, and the disappointed Vardapet was compelled to return to the stifling environment of Echmiadzin (September 1907). Soon, Khrimian Hayrik, his ‘adoptive father,’ who had given him ‘unwavering love and support,’ passed away (October 29, 1907), and Komitas once again found himself lonely, dejected, and depressed.[60] The church, which had served as a sanctuary for the orphaned boy, had become an unbearable prison for the renowned composer, where there was ‘nobody with whom [he could] share and sing what [he had] written.’[61] In fact, the clergymen felt threatened by Komitas’ work since his denunciation of their introduction of Turkish tunes into the Armenian hymns and church liturgy implicated the priests and rendered them responsible for the corruption of the native Armenian musical tradition.[62] The Vardapet’s suggestion to establish a conservatory in Armenia – a dream that Komitas cherished for the rest of his life – was rejected by the new Catholicos, Matthew II[63] (1909), who lacked both his predecessor’s vision and the necessary financial resources to carry out the project that he himself had once called ‘important and mandatory.’[64] The despaired Komitas then wrote a letter to the Catholicos, requesting a transfer to Sevan monastery (September 5, 1909), where he could escape the ‘routine injustices of… petty internal politics’ of Echmiadzin and concentrate on his work.[65] When his request was denied, the composer first traveled to Tiflis (late 1909) and then accepted an offer from his friend and fellow seminarian, Karapet Partizpanian, to become the choirmaster at the St. Gregory Church in Constantinople (Spring 1910).[66] In September of 1910, Komitas was already in the Ottoman capital, and had brought with him numerous ideas about the potential development of the Armenian musical tradition.[67] The Echmiadzin phase of his life had come to an end.
In Constantinople, Komitas was again met with fierce resistance from the clergy, which considered the performance of sacred music in public halls to be blasphemous. The deputy Patriarch of Constantinople, Ghevond Durian, went as far as to issue a decree forbidding the composer’s concert at Petit-Champ Theater, and some of the more radical priests even ‘contacted the Turkish secret police’ and told them that Komitas was ‘including politically subversive songs in [his] concert program.’ The Vardapet paid no attention to his detractors. The concert proceeded as planned (November 21, 1910), and the reception it received was spectacular. One Constantinople newspaper had the following to say about Komitas’ work: ‘Whether ecclesiastical or folkloric, the music of the artist Vardapet brings turbulence to our hearts… we feel [the music] is ours, it is our music.’ [74]
Komitas was inspired by this success and was determined to push forward. After visiting Egypt to organize a 190-person choir for the local Armenian community (Spring/Summer 1911) and going to Britain to spend time with his friend Margaret Babaian, the composer was back in Constantinople and ready to work (November 1911).[75],[76] During the summer of 1912, he gave a series of lectures in Paris, London, and Berlin, and facilitated the publication of his two-volume collection, Hay Geghchuk Yerger (Armenian Rustic Songs) in the French capital, which was the logical continuation of the Hay Knar (Armenian Lyre) series printed in 1907.[77] Upon returning to Constantinople, Komitas went on a tour of the Armenian communities in Asia Minor (Adabazar, Partizak, Eskiheshir, 1912 – 1913), and made his way back to Echmiadzin (Summer 1913). Because he took his responsibility to the church seriously, the Vardapet made an effort to reconcile with the new Catholicos, Gevork V,[78] but he received a cold welcome at the Mother See, and this attempt ended in failure. Despite this, the visit to Echmiadzin was not in vain: it resulted in a six-week tour of the Armenian villages of Aparan, during which Komitas collected and transcribed many new songs.[79]
Freedom from the limitations of the Echmiadzin environment allowed the composer to continue his ‘artistic revolution’ aimed at rediscovering the origins of Armenian music and defending its purity against foreign influences.[80] When Komitas returned to Constantinople (August 1913), he composed a piece called Ov Metzaskanch Du Lezu (O Glorious My Language) as his own small contribution to the celebrations dedicated to the 1,500th anniversary of the Armenian alphabet (October 1913). This was a symbolic endeavor for the composer who had learned Armenian only after his arrival in Echmiadzin and viewed that process as a ‘rite of passage in his transformation from orphan to artist, from Soghomon to Komitas.’[81] His most important work during this period, however, was the article published in the September issue of Azatamart (Freedom Fighter) titled Hayn Uni Inknuruyn Yerazhshtutyun (The Armenian Has His Own Music, 1913), where the author emphasized the existence of an independent Armenian musical tradition while also acknowledging the mutual borrowings that exist among all cultures.
This article was written in response to an anthology of world music published in Paris by Albert Lavignac (Encyclopédie de la musique et dictionnaire, 1913), which did not contain any references to the musical traditions of the Armenians, implying that they were not independent from the traditions of the neighboring people.[82] In the article, Komitas stated that ‘the music of every nation is born out of and develops from the tone (intonation) of its [spoken] sounds,’ which meant that given the unique language of the Armenians, they also had a musical tradition that corresponded to that language.[83] At the same time, the composer continued to work on the monumental project of decoding the Armenian notation system (khazer), and in an article published in the Tachar (Temple) periodical (Constantinople, 1913), he revealed that he had already deciphered and named 198 of those symbols and was making progress on dozens more.[84] Komitas had dedicated more than 20 years to that work, but it was tragically lost in the flames of the Genocide. The medieval Armenian notation system still remains a mystery for Armenian musicologists.[85]
In the summer of 1914, Komitas presented his findings on the Armenian musical notation system, the folk music, and the unique aspects of Armenian musical arrangements to the four hundred attendees of the fifth conference of the International Musical Society in Paris (June 1914), which was followed by a highly acclaimed concert at the Saint Jean-Baptiste Armenian Church.[86] Through his efforts, the composer ‘convinced the musicians and musicologists attending the conference that the core of Armenian Church music had proven remarkably resistant to foreign influence…, and could therefore serve as a crucial reference point for studying the ancient music of the Romans, Greeks, and Assyrians.’[87] Komitas himself said the following about the impact of his presentations on the European musical circles: ‘I have been touched the most by the fact that upon hearing my explanations, these renowned foreign musicologists understood and became convinced that there is an Armenian musical tradition that is unique and independent, just like the language and the lifestyle of the Armenians.’[88]
The Apostle of Armenian Music continued his work of making his people’s melodies known in foreign countries, but his efforts were not always welcome. Komitas’ recording and performance of twenty more folk songs (among them Hayastan, Krunk, and Hov Arek) while in Paris and the sale of his music by Blumenthal Brothers (Summer 1914) was condemned by the members of the Armenian National Church Council in Constantinople, who accused the composer of ‘commercializing’ the music of the Armenian church, condemned him for ‘degrading and flouting the sacred songs intended for the holy temple of God’ by performing them ‘in inappropriate places,’ and asked the Catholicos ‘to reprimand him for this disgraceful behavior.’ [89],[90],[91] Once again, Komitas ignored the accusations while the Council members had to retract their statement under pressure from the press (July 1914). [92] After a short trip to Berlin (Fall 1914), Komitas was back in the Ottoman capital (October 1914), only to witness a renewed environment of hate and hostility that would soon result in a disaster that brought an end to the composer’s creative life and the 3,000-year long presence of his people on the bulk of their historic homeland.
Since Komitas was a celibate priest, it is difficult to talk about his ‘personal life.’ However, the composer’s friendship with Margaret Babaian (1874 – 1968) has attracted the attention of his biographers, and the many letters exchanged between them over the years offer some insight into the nature of that relationship. Komitas had met Margaret, a 21-year old singer and pianist, during a trip to Tiflis in 1895. Since they lived in different parts of the region (and the continent), meetings between them were rare: it was not until 1901 that the two saw each other for the second time, again in Tiflis. Margaret was already an accomplished musician when her family moved to Paris (1904), [93] and that was the time when she and Komitas began to exchange letters. Thus, their friendship developed slowly, eventually turning into a complex and multifaceted relationship.[94] According to psychologist and Komitas’ biographer, Rita Soulahian Kuyumjian, the relationship between Komitas and Babaian ‘was comprised of two distinct facets: a public, professional relationship between singer and composer/conductor; and a private, clandestine relationship between two creative and mature minds.’[95]
Margaret did not make a secret of her admiration for Komitas and did not seem concerned about the unorthodox nature of her liaison with a celibate priest. Naturally, this friendship gave rise to various rumors, which deeply troubled the composer.[96] The relationship between the two intensified when Komitas was touring France (1906), and the two ‘were in daily contact,’ paying no attention to gossip and making visits to the opera and the theater.[97] Komitas knew that given his status, he could not be with Margaret and after his forced return to Echmiadzin (September 1907), communication between them was limited to exchanging letters. Their friendship reached its apex after a four-year break, when Komitas, who had left Echmiadzin for good, visited Margaret in Paris (June 1911). By then, Babaian had founded her own vocal school (1911) and continued to perform as a soloist in the French capital.[98] The two spent a vacation on the Isle of Wight (southern England), and Komitas soon returned to Constantinople (November 1911).[99]
The last meeting between the two of them before Komitas was struck by illness took place in the summer of 1914, when the composer was attending a conference at the International Musical Society (June 1914). Since the letters published by Margaret after Komitas’ death in 1935 only include communication the two had until 1912, it is difficult to draw conclusions about what happened between them after that year. It has been said, however, that ‘the romantic period’ of their relationship had come to an end by this time, but that ‘they were still close friends.’[100] In either case, Margaret played a key role in the formation of the group Komitas Vardapeti Barekamneri Handznakhumb (Friends of Komitas, 1919) and was instrumental in the fundraising efforts launched to provide care for the composer in French psychiatric facilities. Through her efforts, Komitas’ manuscripts were collected and ‘either published or sent to Yerevan’ to be archived at the Charents Museum of Literature and Art. Babaian (along with the rest of the committee members) made sure that Komitas had the care he needed until the end of his life.[101] Margaret never married, and she died in Paris on October 18, 1968 at the age of 94.[102]
By the time Komitas returned to Constantinople (October 1914), Europe was already engulfed in the most devastating conflict the humanity had ever seen. The Great War was having its reverberations in the Ottoman Empire as well, and the Young Turk regime was determined to prevent the imminent collapse of its domain in the inevitable conflict with the Allies. In a matter of weeks, the Triumvirate that controlled the country (Talaat, Jemal, and Enver) masterminded one of the most heinous crimes in human history and subjected the Armenian population of the Ottoman Empire to a campaign of extermination that emptied the Armenian Highland of its native inhabitants. As the Allied Powers shelled Constantinople (the First Bombardment of the Dardanelles (February – March, 1915) followed by the Gallipoli Campaign (beginning in April)), the Young Turks ordered the arrests of more than 200 Armenian intellectuals and community leaders (April (11), 24, 1915), which marked the beginning of the Armenian Genocide (1915 – 1923).[103] Soon, the peaceful Armenian population of Asia Minor, Cilicia, and Western Armenia was forced into death marches that effectively eliminated the Armenian presence on the lands that their ancestors had inhabited since the formation of the Armenian people.
Among those arrested on the fateful night of April 24th was Komitas Vardapet. Along with a group of prominent Constantinople Armenians, he was taken to the local police department, where the detainees were informed that they could write letters to friends and relatives, requesting food and necessary supplies for their upcoming journey.[104] Soon, one group of prisoners, which included Komitas, was ferried to Haydar Pasha Port on the Asian side of Constantinople and put on a train that eventually brought them to Chankiri, a small town located 160 kilometers east of the capital.[105] The incident that is said to have triggered Komitas’ ‘personality shift’ and which resulted in his ‘lapsing into blind panic’ took place a little earlier, near the Ravli Khan station, when a Turkish gendarme wrested the bucket of water he was drinking out of away from his face.[106] According to Aram Andonian’s memoirs presented in Kuyumjian’s study of the composer, Komitas ‘was stupefied, unable to move,… his eyes, filled with surprise’ in the aftermath of this event. The next day,
his behavior had become even more erratic. Standing in the square in front of the hostel [in Kalejik] he seemed restless and upset, mumbling constantly to himself in a way that ‘nobody could understand.’ When one of the gendarmes passed by, he bowed deeply. Soon he was bowing to others as well…Soon afterwards, as he joined a group of prisoners, he called out suddenly, ‘Open the way, let him pass.’ The men turned to see a sickly donkey laboring along the road behind them. Komitas bowed formally to the animal and demanded that his friends do the same.[107]
The condition that Komitas was experiencing has been identified by Rita Soulahian Kuyumjian as ‘an episode of… Acute Stress Disorder, a type of psychological stress reaction that is similar in many ways to Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) but shorter in duration, more acute in onset, and quicker to appear.’[108] Clinical psychologist Meliné Karakashian, who authored a scholarly study on the composer and his condition, adds ‘high levels of anxiety, hyper-vigilance, and persecution anxiety’ to Komitas’ diagnosis.[109] As we will see later, future developments only worsened the composer’s situation and made recovery impossible. On Sunday, May 9th, 1915, as Komitas was holding mass for the inmates at the Armenian Church in Chankiri, a telegram was received from the Ministry of the Interior (headed by Talaat Pasha), announcing the release of eight of the deportees, including Komitas.[110] On May 15th, Komitas was already in Constantinople.[111] Out of the 291 men who were sent to the concentration camp in Chankiri during the Red Harvest, only 40 survived.[112]
In the aftermath of his return from Chankiri, Komitas’ mental health briefly improved, and he was doing so well that he was able to perform the patarag (liturgy) on the eve of Palm Sunday at the St. Cross the Apparition Church in Constantinople (April 1916), which was the last recorded service that he conducted.[113] Later that summer, Komitas composed his well-known Msho Shoror (The Dance of Mush),[114] but his mental condition deteriorated soon after, and he was checked into the Turkish military Hópital de la Paix[115] in Constantinople (Fall 1916) with symptoms of PTSD.
In her detailed psychological study, Kuyumjian describes three factors that influence the person’s predisposition to PTSD and the possibility of a successful treatment: the personal dimension (‘amalgam of genetic predisposition and personal experience’), the institutional aspect, and the personalities of the individual therapists.[116] In all three respects, Komitas was left vulnerable to the rapid progression of the disorder. The persecution Komitas had experienced was ‘ethnic in nature,’ and the ethnicity of most therapists at the hospital was the same as that of Komitas’ oppressors, which created ‘insurmountable barriers between doctor and patient.’ Being confined to an institution that was ‘run by the Turkish military’ only complicated the situation since it ‘was effectively no different from being held in a Turkish prison.’[117] Komitas’ difficult childhood (loss of parents during formative years) and the isolation experienced in Echmiadzin made him ‘extremely vulnerable to feelings of neglect, abandonment, and rejection.’[118] The ensuing humiliation by the gendarme, the loss of privacy due to his forced entry into a mental facility, and the sale of his belongings (including the golden watch he had received as a prize in Paris) to cover his hospital expenses only deepened the trauma he had experienced.[119],[120] The potential success of the treatment was further jeopardized by the depression and anxiety caused by the survival guilt in the aftermath of his return from Chankiri,[121] the humiliation Komitas suffered due to the perceived betrayal by friends (who had institutionalized him) and the helplessness associated with his inability to find work and pay his rent.[122]
By 1919, the composer’s friends and doctors had become convinced that his condition was not improving at the Turkish hospital.[123] Komitas’ refusal to cooperate with the clinical staff, the stress of chronic fear that plagued him, and his categorical rejection of visitors prompted them to find alternative solutions.[124] Dr. Vahram Torkomian[125] and others considered sending the composer to the monasteries of Jerusalem or Echmiadzin, but the Armenian Patriarch in the Holy Land refused to take him in and the ongoing refugee crisis in the newly-independent Republic of Armenia eliminated the second option.[126] Finally, Komitas was put on a Romanian passenger ship Dachia (Dashio) (March 19, 1919) and sent first to Marseilles and then to Paris, to be placed in the care of psychiatric specialists.[127] In the French capital, Margaret Babaian, Arshak Chobanian[128], and an Armenian-born psychiatrist Dr. Paul Cololian formed a group called Komitas Vardapeti Barekamneri Handznakhumb (Friends of Komitas, 1919), which coordinated the logistics of providing care for the composer and raised the necessary funds to pay for the treatments. The psychiatric examinations conducted by Drs. Cololian and Ducoste (April 6 – 7,1919) showed that ‘Komitas’ intelligence and memory had remained largely intact,’ but that he was suffering from mental deterioration, acute psychosis (mental alienation), and hypomania. This diagnosis was confirmed 15 years later, when Ducoste performed another assessment mandated by the French law on psychiatric treatments. [129] Psychiatrist Louise F. Hovhannessian researched the hospital archives as part of her dissertation work and based on the seven letters of Dr. Ducoste, written between 1925 and 1932, and some additional evidence, arrived at the conclusion that despite the difficulty the doctors had in precisely diagnosing Komitas’ condition, the most warranted diagnoses are those of Psychotic Major Depression (PMD) and bi-polar disorder.[130] In either case, on the advice of Dr. Cololian, Komitas was placed into a ‘first-class [private] mental hospital’ Maison Spéciale de Santé de Ville-Évrard in the suburbs of Paris (April 1919 – July 31, 1922), only to be subsequently transferred to the public Hópital Villejuif due to the lack of funds to pay for the private institution. [131],[132] The Vardapet remained there without improvement in his mental condition until his death due to cachexia (organic decay caused by vascular illness) on October 20, 1935.[133]
Komitas was embalmed on October 23. A death mask of him was taken prior to that by the Mkhitarist priests, and an original of it is still kept at the Monastery at San Lazzaro in Venice. A requiem service was conducted at St. Hovannes Church (Jean-Baptiste Church) on October 27, with Komitas’ students and friends (Chobanian, Bartevian, Semerjian, Shahmouradian, and others) along with many Paris Armenians in attendance. The composer’s coffin was kept in the basement of the church until it was permitted to transport it to Soviet Armenia. When the casket arrived in the Armenian capital (May 27, 1936), it was placed in the Culture House in Yerevan, where the people could pay their last respects to their beloved Vardapet prior to his burial the next day (May 28, 1936) at the Pantheon that was soon named after him.[134]The Apostle of Armenian Music had finally returned home.
Over the years, many of Komitas’ friends and students have written extensively about the great composer, helping shed light on his personal characteristics. His classmate from Kutahya, N. Mildonian, offers a glimpse into the difficult childhood of Soghomon, whom he describes as a ‘thin built, meager, and pale’ kid, who usually ‘came to school disheveled, half-full, half-starving.’[135] During his years in Echmiadzin, Komitas was known for his ‘daring, outspoken character.’ One of his biographers, musicologist Ruben Terlemezian (1898 – 1942) mentions the composer’s ‘exceptional learning abilities,’ which also came into light at the Mother See.[136] The last Prime Minister of the First Republic of Armenia, Simon Vratsian, who was Komitas’ student at the Gevorkian seminary (1899 – 1905), points out that despite the fact that the composer ‘did not have broad knowledge [of topics] outside of music… he knew well ancient Armenian literature and oral histories.’[137] Vratsian attests to his teacher’s great sense of humor, which was also noted by many of the composer’s friends: ‘he who has not heard Komitas giggle has no idea of what a giggle is – so ardent, so cheerful and so sincere, so child-like.’[138]
At the same time, Komitas was very serious both about teaching and about religion. Vratsian mentioned that ‘the seemingly worldly seminarian was a religious fanatic, at the cost of being intolerant’ and was unforgiving to those who failed to display proper respect towards Jesus Christ. He talked about to his teacher’s ‘strong character and deep, firm beliefs,’ which guided Komitas throughout his difficult life.[139] As a teacher, Komitas was firm, but friendly, calm, and enthusiastic, which earned him the love of his students, who grew to appreciate his sensitive and attentive nature.[140] While he was not teaching, the Vardapet kept a small garden outside of his room in Echmiadzin and hosted his students for interesting discussions over tea on a monthly basis.[141] Komitascontinued to maintain a similar tradition at his apartment in Constantinople, which became a cultural center, where various intellectuals, diplomats, and artists gathered to discuss different issues. Poet Siamanto, writer Avetik Isahakyan, and Khoren Khrimian (the brother of Hayrik) were all frequent guests of the composer. In that same apartment, Komitas had a glass cabinet (his ‘sacred corner’), where among all kinds of memorabilia, he kept the portraits of Khrimian Hayrik, Khachatur Abovian, and (interestingly) Mona Lisa.[142]
Komitas carried out his ‘cultural revolution’ at a time when the Armenians were undergoing an awakening, and he played an important role in the process of ‘national identity construction.’[143] Another defining characteristic of Komitas is that he was committed ‘to the ‘authenticity’ of the melody’s original musical characteristics,’ and strove to preserve ‘the spirit’ of the music he collected.[144] Given the fact that Armenian music was influenced by the melodies of the neighboring people (Persians, Turks, Arabs) and considering the prevalent idea that the musical attainments of Soviet Armenia ‘were tainted by the approval of Soviet officialdom,’ Komitas is viewed as the ‘essential vision of Armenian culture,’ the man whose works represent the ‘true’ Armenian music.[145] Komitas looked to the Armenian peasants, who had become ‘quasi-sacred objects of nationalist concern, since they [carried] many memories and myths which the nationalist intellectuals [drew] upon for the construction of their ethnic myth of descent.’[146] In this effort, the composer was in tune with the predominant nationalist sentiment of the time since ‘his presentation of peasant music as a distinct and unique facet of Armenian culture corresponded to the atmosphere [that was] being created by the revolutionaries.’ Though Komitas himself was ‘never overtly political … in asserting the uniqueness of Armenian music, he was, by extent, asserting the uniqueness of the Armenian people as whole.’[147]
Along with ‘symbolizing the musical creativity of the Armenian people,’ whose heritage he helped preserve and present to the world, Komitas is also viewed as the personification of the sufferings of the Armenians and their resilience in the face of the Genocide.[148] One of Komitas’ biographers, an academic and musicologist Gevorg Geodakyan[149] writes the following lines about the composer:
In the destiny of Komitas, on his thorny and tragic path, the whole historical epoch of the Armenian nation is reflected: the rise of national consciousness, struggles, emerging hopes, and the era that concluded with the terrible tragedy of 1915, overshadowed by the most horrible pages in the history of much-affected Armenia. Komitas drank to the bottom the bitter cup of suffering that was devolved to his nation.[150]
Over the course of the past century, Komitas came to ‘symbolically represent the inability of the Armenian people to have their voice heard by the world.’[151] Rita Kuyumjian maintains that the ‘survivors of the Armenian Genocide have recognized Komitas’ prolonged suffering as a symbol of their own personal and collective anguish, and ranked him among Armenian martyrs.’[152] In fact, it has been suggested that Komitas be canonized as a martyr saint of the Armenian Apostolic Church.[153]
Komitas inspired great things throughout his life, and he continued to do so even after his illness and untimely death. In 1923, the Vardapet’s lifelong dream came true: a conservatory opened its doors in Yerevan on the foundations of a music studio that had been established by Romanos Melikian two years earlier. This institution was soon named after the great composer. The Yerevan State Conservatory has since produced generations of notable musicians and composers (Arno Babajanyan, Tigran Mansourian, Lusine Zakaryan), who would have made the Vardapet proud. The renowned Komitas String Quartet, founded in Moscow by Armenian students in 1924, was the first of its kind in the world, and it has toured throughout the planet, continuing, in part, the work of the Vardapet himself: introducing Armenian musical tradition to the world. A major street in Yerevan (built 1963 – 1964), the Chamber Music Hall of the capital (constructed in 1978), and a publishing house dedicated to promoting Armenian music worldwide (established in 1996) all carry the name of the founder of the modern Armenian classical music.[154] Statues have been erected to Komitas both in the Homeland and in the Diaspora, and his name has continued to be associated with the great cultural heritage of the Armenian nation and its suffering both during and after the Genocide. Few individuals in our people’s history have been as impactful and as revered as Komitas. Russian composer, Thomas de Hartmann (1885 – 1956) summed up the role played by Komitas quite well:
Komitas Vardapet has had a lasting impact [on Armenian music]: he was the first one who paid serious attention to the folk music of Armenia. He was the first one who felt the cultural and ethnographic significance of these songs for his tribe. He was the first one who understood that the future development of Armenian music must be based on the solid foundation of its folk music… He was the first who screamed [to his people], loudly and with confidence, ‘These are our real songs, which are created by our people; you belong to the [Armenian] people and you must love its songs.[155]
Komitas Vardapet was a devoted soldier in the national liberation struggle of his people. His contributions, however, were not in the battlefields of war, but in the realm of culture. The importance that the persona of Komitas holds for the Armenian people and his significance in reviving the nation’s culture and building its identity are difficult to measure. Through his refinement and harmonization of folk songs, the composition of multiple masterpieces, and the dissemination of Armenian music through his choirs and lectures, Komitas contributed greatly to the cultural and patriotic upbringing of his people and the increased awareness of Armenia’s rich musical heritage in Europe.[156] Over the course of his life, the Vardapet collected, arranged, and published nearly 4,000 folk songs,[157] formed choirs in virtually every Armenian community he visited, and developed and purified the Armenian ecclesiastical music, including the patarag, of foreign influences.[158] Komitas’ legacy, however, extends well beyond his active years and his lifetime. Both the powerful modern Armenian musical tradition and the world-renowned national vocal and instrumental school were founded based on the work done by Komitas.[159] The composer’s tragic life and his sufferings have made him a hero in the minds of the Armenians, and while Komitas is viewed by some as a victim of the Genocide, he is also the man, whose work enabled the preservation of thousands of songs that would have otherwise perished in the conflagration of the Metz Yeghern. The Armenian nation owes a tremendous debt of gratitude to the Vardapet from Vagharshapat, and the only way it can be repaid is through adherence to the inheritance that he left behind and continuous work aimed at expanding and enriching his extraordinary legacy.
[1] Brutyan, S. G. Komitas. Hayastan Publishing, Yerevan, 1969, p. 8
[2] Soulahian Kuyumjian, R. Archeology of Madness: Komitas, Portrait of an Armenian Icon. Gomidas Institute, Princeton, NJ, 2001, pp. 10 –11
[3] Ibid, pp. 10 – 12. His paternal aunt, Guliné Karaoghlanian, a widow who had a child of her own and suffered from poor eyesight, also participated in the efforts to care for Komitas. Her health problems may have been the reason why she could not take charge of Komitas and agreed to his departure to Echmiadzin (Karakashian, M. Komitas: Victim of the Great Crime. Zangak Print House, Yerevan, Armenia, 2014, pp. 18, 22, 24).
[4] Karakashian, M. Komitas: Victim of the Great Crime. Zangak Print House, Yerevan, Armenia, 2014, p. 24
[5] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 15 – 16
[6] Ibid, p. 16. The quote is that of his childhood friend, N. Mildonian (same source).
[7] Ibid, pp.14, 16
[8] Karakashian, p. 19
[9] Ibid, p. 15. Karakashian argues that the claim that Komitas was an ‘orphan’ did not reflect the reality since he had a family that could take care of him (grandmother, aunt, uncle, etc.), but that such formulation was probably necessitated by the desire to get him accepted into the Gevorkian seminary. In fact, Komitas had been officially adopted by his uncle, Harutyun, whose wife Zmrookht took care for him along with her own daughter, Marik, whom Komitas viewed as a sister. Years later, when the composer was already in Echmiadzin, he kept in touch with Zmrookht and sent a part of his stipend to his aunt, Guliné (Karakashian, pp. 17, 25 – 26)
[10] Gevork IV(1866 – 1882) was a strong champion of education, and had played an important role in the establishment of the Gevorkian Seminary (May 18, 1869). The seminary opened its doors in October of 1875, and had its first graduates during the 1885 – 1886 academic year (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gevorgian_Seminary). Education here lasted for six years, and additional three years of instruction were required for future clergy (Soulahian, p 22). The seminary was shut down during the tumultuous period of World War I and Genocide (December 1917) by Gevork V (1911 – 1930) and was not reopened until November 1, 1945. It has been in continuous operation since then. Among its graduates were Avetik Isahakyan, Levon Shant, and Manuk Abeghian.
[11] The term Hayrapet is synonymous with the title of Catholicos. It implies that the head of the church is the father of the Armenian nation and is used interchangeably with the official title (Catholicos) (Author’s Note).
[12] Soulahian Kuyumjian, R. p. 24. Komitas’ parents, like most Armenians in inner Turkey, were also Turkish-speaking, and Soghomon learned Armenian only after his arrival in Echmiadzin (Author’s Note).
[13] Ibid, pp. 24 – 25
[14] Brutyan, pp. 10 – 11
[15] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 26
[16] Alajaji, S. (2009) Diasporic Communities and Negotiated Identities: Trauma, Recovery, and the Search for the Armenian Musical Voice (Doctoral Dissertation, University of Rochester, Rochester, NY, p. 55). Retrieved from ProQuest Dissertations and Theses – Gradworks (Publication 3376720).
[17] Vann, p.325
[18] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 26 – 27. The quote about the ‘choristers’ belongs to Komitas (Author’s Note).
[19] Alajaji, p. 58
[20] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 28
[21] Mkrtich Khrimian (1820 – 1907) was an important religious and political leader. He served as the Armenian Patriarch of Constantinople (1869–1873), the Prelate of Van (Vaspurakan) (1879–1885) and Catholicos of All Armenians (1892–1907). Khrimian was affectionately called Hayrik (Father) by the people, something that stresses the key role he played in the lives of the Armenians during the difficult period of their history. Khrimian was famous for the ‘iron ladle’ speech given in the aftermath of the Treaty of Berlin (1878) and provided support to secret organizations that aimed to liberate the Armenian people from the Turkish yoke. For his activities, Mkrtich Khrimian was recalled to Constantinople (1885) and then exiled to Jerusalem (1890), where he remained until his election as Catholicos (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Մկրտիչ_Ա_Վանեցի).
[22] Komitas Aghayetsi (the Builder) (613 – 628) served as the Bishop of Taron prior to becoming the Catholicos of All Armenians. A learned man, Komitas authored a number of treatises and launched several large-scale projects, including the construction of the Church of St. Hripsime (618). Komitas was known for his love of music and composed poetry throughout his life (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Կոմիտաս_Ա_Աղցեցի).
[23] Kirstapor Kara-Murza (1853 – 1902) was a composer, music critic, performer, and a musicologist. For 17 years (1885 – 1902), he traveled throughout E. Armenia, teaching music and organizing choirs, activities that earned him the nickname ‘the moving school’ (Soulahian Kuyumjian, R. pp. 28 – 29). Kara-Murza also began the process of collecting Armenian folk songs, which was later expanded and systematized by Komitas (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Քրիստափոր-Կարա-Մուրզա).
[24] Brutyan, p. 12
[25] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 30, 32. Abegha is the lowest-ranking celibate priest in the Armenian Apostolic Church. The rank of a Vardapet is granted to an abegha who has completed a designated course of study and is prepared to both teach in religious institutions and preach the gospel to the faithful (https://hy.wikipedia.org).
[26] Ibid, pp. 32 – 33. The anthology consisted of 25 pieces, including love songs, lullabies, and dances (same source).
[27] Ibid, p. 33
[28] Makar Yekmalian (1856 – 1905) was an Armenian composer, who had studied in Echmiadzin and St. Petersburg, where he began his work on developing the polyphonic rendering of the Armenian liturgy, which is still used in the church. Yekmalian played a key role in the formation of Armenian musicology. Just like Komitas, he was struck by mental illness (beginning in 1902), which prevented him from finishing many of his works (Ibid, p. 35).
[29] Alexander Mantashian (Mantashev) (1842 – 1911) was an Armenian industrialist and philanthropist, who controlled more than half of the oil production in Baku through his company, Mantashev and Co (founded in 1899), which had its branches throughout the world. Mantashian funded the construction of Armenian churches in various local and Diasporan communities (Paris, Moscow, Petersburg, Tiflis, Baku, etc.) and was the patron of the largest orphanage in the Caucasus (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ալեքսանդր_Մանթաշյանց).
[30] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 35
[31] Ibid, p. 39
[32] Ibid, pp. 43 – 44
[33] Brutyan, p. 15
[34] Ibid, p. 14
[35] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 41
[36] Ibid, p. 47
[37] Manuk Abeghian (1865 – 1944) was an expert on Armenian folklore and literature. A native of Nakhichevan, he graduated from the Gevorkian Seminary (1885) and taught in Shushi and Tiflis prior to leaving for Europe to further his education (1893). Abeghian returned to Echmiadzin in 1898, and worked at the Gevorkian seminary until 1914, when he moved to Tiflis (until 1919). He played a key role in the founding of the Yerevan State University and devoted the rest of his life to academic work in Soviet Armenia (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Մանուկ_Աբեղյան).
[38] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 49
[39] Alajaji, p. 43
[40] Ibid, p. 60. The khazer system of notation was devised by the Armenia scholars in the 8th century (same source).
[41] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 49 – 50
[42] Brutyan, pp. 87 – 89
[43] Ibid, pp. 90, 95
[44] Terlemezian, R. Komitas Vardapet: Kyanke Yev Gortzuneutyune [Komitas Vardapet: Life and Work]. Mkhitarian Printing, Vienna, 1924, pp. 39 – 48 (http://serials.flib.sci.am/openreader/Komitas_1924/book/index.html#page/6/mode/1up). Accessed: March 12, 2016.
[45] Vann, K. Armenian Folk Music and the East-West Dichotomy. Herald of Social Sciences, Yerevan, Issue 1, 2015, p.328. http://lraber.asj-oa.am/6411/1/318.pdf. Accessed: February 22, 2016
[46] Asatryan, A. Komitase yev Hay Yerazhshtakan Arvesti Zargatsman Ughinere [Komitas and the Development of the Armenian Musical Culture]. Herald of Social Sciences, Yerevan, 1991, p. 28. http://hpj.asj-oa.am/2753/1/2010-1(25).pdf. Accessed: February 29, 2016.
[47] There have been four versions of the Divine Liturgy, arranged and harmonized in the European notation. The first one was developed by an Italian, Pietro Biancini (1877), and was published by the Mkhitarians of Venice. Amy Apcar wrote down and published her rendering of the liturgy on two occasions: the first time, in 1896 (Calcutta) and an expanded version in 1920 (Leipzig). The third rendering belongs to Makar Yekmalian, whose patarag was published in Vienna and Leipzig in 1896 by Grigor Meghvanian. Komitas’ version of the liturgy, which came out in 1933 in Paris (Komitas began working on it in 1892), is the last rendering. The Armenian Apostolic Church currently uses Komitas’ and Yekmalian’s versions of the Divine Liturgy (“Prefatory Note,” Chants of the Divine Liturgy of the Armenian Apostolic Orthodox Church, The Delphic Press, New York, NY, 1950, p IV. By Order of and Copyrighted by Bishop Tiran Mesropyan. GoogleBooks Search. Accessed: March 15, 2016).
[48] Ibid, p. 15
[49] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 44, 50
[50] Karakashian, p. 16
[51] Brutyan, pp. 24 – 25
[52] Terlemezian, pp. 39 – 48
[53] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 53, 62
[54] Brutyan, p. 28
[55] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 2
[56] Nersisyan, Vrej. “Introduction.” Armenian Sacred and Folk Music: Komitas. Published by Curzon Press, England, 1998, p. 18. Google Books Search. Accessed: March 2, 2016.
[57] Vazgen I Balyan (1908 – 1994) served as the Catholics of All Armenians from 1955 until his death in 1994. During his long reign, the skillful diplomat maneuvered the treacherous waters of Soviet politics to restore numerous churches, strengthen the ties between the Homeland and the Diaspora, and advance various national causes (Artsakh, restoration from the earthquake). In appreciation for his efforts, he became the first recipient of the title of National Hero of Armenia (July 28, 1994) (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Վազգեն_Ա_Բուխարեստցի).
[58] Asatryan, p. 27
[59] Brutyan, p. 57
[60] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 62 – 63
[61] Ibid, p. 64
[62] Alajaji, p. 47
[63] Matthew (Mateos) II Izmirlyan (1908 – 1910) succeeded Mkrtich Khrimian. He had previously served as the Patriarch of Constantinople (1894 – 1896) before the Ottoman authorities exiled him in Jerusalem. He became known as the Iron Patriarch for his criticism of Abdul Hamid II (1876 – 1908) and the massacres organized by the Red Sultan. He returned to Constantinople (1908), but was soon elected Catholicos and moved to Echmiadzin. Matthew II was the first head of the Armenian Church to make pilgrimage to the medieval Armenian capital of Ani (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matthew_II_Izmirlian). It was rumored that Komitas was opposed to his candidacy for Catholicos, and that may have been one of the reasons behind the difficult relationship between Catholicos Izmirlyan and Komitas Vardapet (Author’s Note).
[64] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 66
[65] Ibid, pp. 67 – 68
[66] Ibid, pp. 71 – 72
[67] Brutyan, p. 33
[68] Karakashian, pp. 56 – 57
[69] Panos Terlemezian (1865 – 1941) was a famous Armenian painter. A native of Van and a graduate of the local seminary (1886), Terlemezian engaged in revolutionary activities and was condemned to death by the Ottoman government (1891). Having escaped prison in 1893, he traveled and worked in the Russian Empire and Europe, before settling in Constantinople in 1910. At the onset of the Genocide, Terlemezian found his way to Van, where he participated in the local self-defense movement (1915). After the Genocide, he first lived in the Caucasus, then moved to the United States (1923), and finally repatriated to Armenia (1928), where he died in 1941. Terlemezian is interred at the Pantheon named after his friend, Komitas (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Փանոս_Թերլեմեզյան).
[70] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 72 – 73
[71] Terlemezian, p. 28. The proceeds from the concerts were enough to also cover some of Komitas’ expenses, and he appealed to Echmiadzin to have his stipend reduced as a result (December 1911) (Karakashian, p. 60)
[72] Asatryan, p. 34
[73] Atayan, R. Komitasi Steghtsagortsakan Zharangutyan Mi Kani Hartser [A Number of Issues Relating to Komitas’ Creative Legacy]. Herald of Social Sciences, Yerevan, 1969, p. 21. http://hpj.asj-oa.am/1397/1/1969-4(15).pdf. Acessed: March 12, 2016.
[74] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 74 – 75
[75] Ibid, pp. 79, 101
[76] Brutyan, p. 42
[77] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 101
[78] Gevork V (Surenyants) (1911 – 1930) was the Catholicos of All Armenians, who reigned after Matthew II. He had held important clerical positions throughout the Caucasus (Artsakh, Agulis, Alexandropol, and Tiflis) and the rest of the Russian Empire (Astrakhan) prior to becoming the head of the Armenian Church. Gevork V presided over an effort to provide relief to the survivors of the Genocide and encouraged the Armenian fighters during the May battles (1918). After the establishment of Soviet regime, he was the first Catholicos who had to deal with the limitations imposed from Moscow (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_V_of_Armenia).
[79] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 102
[80] Ibid, p. 76
[81] Ibid, p. 103
[82] Muradyan, M. Komitasi Gortzuneutyune Kontstandnupolsum [Komitas’ Activities in Constantinople]. Herald of Social Sciences, Yerevan, 1979, p.116. http://hpj.asj-oa.am/3263/1/1980-1(115).pdf. Accessed: March 12, 2016.
[83] Brutyan, p. 42
[84] Ibid, p. 55.
[85] Asatryan, p. 33
[86] Muradyan, p.118
[87] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 105
[88] Muradyan, p.119
[89] Ibid, p. 106
[90] Brutyan, p. 60
[91] Nersisyan, p. 18
[92] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 106
[93] Ibid, p. 82
[94] Ibid, pp. 84 – 85
[95] Ibid, p. 83.
[96] Ibid, p. 84
[97] Ibid, pp. 87 – 88
[98] Ibid, pp. 82 – 83, 92
[99] Ibid, p. 93
[100] Ibid, p. 95
[101] Ibid, p. 173
[102] Ibid, p. 83
[103] According to sociologist Vahakn Tatrian, 2,345 Armenian community leaders were arrested in Constantinople in the ensuing weeks. Most of them were executed during the course of the Genocide (Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 106).
[104] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 118. Komitas wrote two letters, one to his housekeeper, Karapet, and another one to the American Embassy. He apparently had hopes that his friendship with the wife of Ambassador Morgenthau may help him obtain release through the Americans, and he was not wrong (same source).
[105] Ibid, pp. 122, 124
[106] Ibid, p. 127
[107] Ibid, pp. 127 – 128. Aram Andonian (1875 – 1952) was an Armenian journalist, historian, and writer, who was among those deported with Komitas to Chankiri. He edited several Armenian newspapers in Constantinople (Luys (Light), Tsaghik (Flower), and Surhandak (Herald)) before his arrest. Andonian survived the death marches and worked to collect evidence to prove the premeditated nature of the Young Turk crimes against the Armenian people. He authored the work called Komitas Vardapete Aksori Mej (Komitas Vardapet in Exile, 1947), which has served as an important resource for the composer’s biographers (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aram_Andonian).
[108] Ibid, p. 134
[109] Karakashian, p. 158
[110] Soulahian Kuyumjian, p. 131
[111] Ibid, p. 137
[112] Ibid, p. 130. Red Harvest is a symbolic term used to describe the arrests of April 24, 1915 (Soulahian, p. 142).
[113] Karakashian, pp. 104 – 105
[114] Ibid, p. 106
[115] The Hópital de la Paix located in the Shishli quarter of Constantinople was founded by the French and converted to a Turkish military hospital during World War I. Komitas remained there until his transfer to France in 1919 (Karakashian, p. 113)
[116] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 155 – 157
[117] Ibid, pp. 157 – 158, 170
[118] Ibid, pp. 154 – 155
[119] Ibid, pp. 155 – 156
[120] Karakashian, p. 118
[121] Ibid, p. 88
[122] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 148 – 152
[123] Ibid, p. 164
[124] Ibid, pp. 153, 160, 163
[125] Vahram Torkomian (1858 – 1942) was an Armenian doctor (psychiatrist), a friend of Komitas, who had also been arrested during the Red Harvest. It was likely that the intervention of Torkomian’s wife had brought about her husband’s and Komitas’ release. In the aftermath of Vardapet’s illness, Torkomian treated Komitas and played a key role in having the composer hospitalized, which deteriorated their relationship. In a March 17, 1919 letter to Arshak Chobanian, Dr. Torkomian reveals that ‘according to [Komitas], we are all enemies, especially me, and so are all those who care for him’ (Soulahian, pp. 160, 164).
[126] Ibid, pp. 164, 167
[127] Karakashian, p. 120
[128] Arshak Chobanyan (1872 – 1954) was an Armenian writer, journalist, and playwright. A graduate of the Getronagan Varzharan in Constantinople, Chobanian left his native city for Paris (1893) and settled there, founding a famous periodical, Anahit (1898 – 1911 and 1929 – 1949) and publicizing Armenian art and literature in French literary circles (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arshag_Chobanian). Chobanian befriended Komitas during the composer’s 1901 trip to Paris. In 1907, they went on a joint lecture tour of various European cities. Chobanian was also Komitas’ guest in Echmiadzin during the election of Catholicos Matthew II (1909) (Soulauhian Kuyumjian pp. 50, 59, 67).
[129] Soulauhian Kuyumjian, pp. 176, 178 – 181
[130] Karakashian, p. 104
[131] Soulauhian Kuyumjian, pp. 173, 183
[132] During the 1920’s (specifically, in 1926), the caretaking committee tried to get Komitas treated in Vienna, where a new innovative talk therapy was being practiced by Sigmund Freud (1856 – 1939), but his doctors (including Cololian) were not comfortable with the idea of having the composer travel such long distances and refused to accompany him to Austria (Karakashian, p. 130)
[133] Soulauhian Kuyumjian, p. 194
[134] Karakashian, p.140
[135] Karakashian, pp. 19 – 20
[136] Ibid, p. 27
[137] Ibid, p. 40
[138] Ibid, p. 39
[139] Ibid, p. 40
[140] Ibid, pp. 37, 40
[141] Ibid, p. 41
[142] Ibid, pp. 57 – 58
[143] Davidjants, B. Identity Construction in Armenian Music on the Example of Early Folklore Movement. Estonian Literary Museum and Estonian Folklore Institute, Estonia, 2015, pp. 175 – 176. http://www.folklore.ee/folklore/vol62/davidjants.pdf Accessed: March 2, 2016.
[144] Vann, p.330
[145] Ibid, p. 321. The author cites the work of Marina Frolova Walker called ‘National in Form, Socialist in Content’: Musical Nation-Building in the Soviet Republics, which was published in the Journal of the Armenia Musicological Society in July 1998 (Issue 51, no 2, pp. 331 – 371).
[146] Smith, A. Myths and Memories of the Nation. Published by Oxford UP, New York, NY, 1999, p. 85
[147] Alajaji, p.75
[148] Karakashian, pp. 10 – 11
[149] Gevorg Geodakyan (1928 – 2015) was a prominent Armenian musicologist. A graduate of the Yerevan (1952) and Moscow (1955) conservatories, he was a member of the Armenian Composers Union and an instructor at his alma mater, Komitas State Conservatory (since 1977). He also authored one of the most important biographies of the composer, the book Komitas, published in 1969 (https://hy.wikipedia.org/wiki/Գևորգ_Գյոդակյան).
[150] Davidjants, p. 182
[151] Karakashian, p. 158
[152] Soulahian Kuyumjian, pp. 2 – 3
[153] Ibid, p. 3. The rules of the Armenian Apostolic Church generally preclude the canonization of an individual who suffered from mental illness (same source).
[154] Virtual Museum of Komitas, www.komitas.am
[155] Brutyan, pp. 110 – 111
[156] Muradyan, p.124
[157] Karakashian, p. 158
[158] Muradyan, p.124
[159] Asatryan, p. 37
