‘Two Worlds and a Dream’ in Yerevan

By Dr. Audrey Selian

YEREVAN, Armenia—It is not especially common in the Armenian cultural or religious tradition to have a celebratory event memorializing those who have passed, and yet what nearly 500 people witnessed on Thurs., June 10 in Yerevan’s Kino Moscva could really only have happened in Armenia. The “one night only” performance of “Two Worlds and a Dream,” written and produced by Teni Matian, was a special celebration of the lives of the 47 Armenians who died aboard Caspian Airlines flight 7908, which crashed en route from Tehran to Yerevan nearly one year ago on July 15, 2009. Among the victims of this tragedy was Teni’s father, Masis Matian.

This production has taken a unique approach to treating a subject matter that, at the best of times, is delicate. How does one, after all, take a horrific event and turn it into something that brings a sense of peace to the families of its victims nearly one year later? The show itself begins as a meditative storytelling exercise, presenting the fanciful daydreams of a happy-go-lucky little boy who dreams of one day being a pilot. We see the little boy’s mother, who at once bemused and stern, reprimands her son for his flights of fancy, pushing him away from his toy plane and towards his violin—the instrument which she believes will be the making of his future. All too soon, we realize that she is about to embark on a trip, and with a tender goodbye, kisses her son and leaves for the airport. It is here that we realize how the focal point of this story aligns with the essence of the show and its title; she is a passenger on Caspian flight 7908, and we realize that this story is a representation of the bond and love of all the families and friends of all the victims. With small exceptions of the recordings of Armenian poetry (incidentally, in the voice of Masis Matian) that are delicately inserted into the production, there is all but no language or dialogue; the entire production is focused on dance and physical expression.

Suddenly, we are transported to the waiting halls of the airport, where we watch the dancers/actors walking one by one past us on stage, dressed as passengers, while boarding announcements blare over the speakerphones. Slowly, as each portrayal begins, we are treated to representations in movement of each of the countries from which the passengers of this flight hailed. The diversity of the passengers is thus celebrated, and momentum builds slowly—starting with a beautiful traditional Persian dance solo, followed by a Georgian male solo performed by one of the leading young ballet dancers of Yerevan. Swiftly, we are reminded that this plane also carried a number of young ushu martial arts fighters; two young men take the stage and demonstrate the dance-like, elegant stances of their discipline with breathtaking agility and ease. And then, the traditional group ensemble by the BERT national dance troupe depicts the Armenian passengers. Through these performances as well as the small flourishes that Teni Matian has carefully added to her scenario and its bright, physical backdrop, the audience is carried into a brief reverie before being swiftly brought back to the recreated reality. The reverie is punctuated by the haunting words of the poem “My Sweet Armenia” written by Yeghishe Charents, as the significance of the passengers’ flight towards Armenia, and towards their “homeland,” dawns on us.

The stage, embellished by film projected on a screen behind it, is all-absorbing. The fated plane takes off and the modern choreography of the performers depicts the smooth glide of a departure that has but largely been left to our imaginations. From this moment forward, the audience is left only to revel in the perfect synchronicity of the movement of the passengers, in that moment being carried altogether to their collective fate. The scene is as poetic and subtle as it is moving. It is worthy to note that the majority of the soundtrack for this musical performance is bespoke, and has been written by musician/composer Artur Bobikian, who captures the emotional weight of the story with a deft and sensitive articulation of all that is fragile and fleeting, particularly as Matian treats the moments between life and death. The actual choreographed representation of the beginning of turmoil on the flight as things go wrong, while difficult to watch, leads the audience to a slow, deliberate rise in tension that culminates in what we understand to be the catastrophic technical failure that defines this tragedy. It takes several moments to realize what has been recreated before our eyes, as an audience. It should be said that few would have dared to capture this scene so literally and blatantly, but Matian achieves the visual concept in a way that allows her audience to appreciate the final breath of those who perished. And suddenly, somehow, whether one is connected personally to this event or not, the audience is led to find a sense of peace within it.

The mood and tenor of the show shifts quickly thereafter, as we see magnificently outfitted angels caring for the little boy as he realizes what has happened, and his sadness embodies the mourning of all those who lost their loved ones in this tragedy. The angels lead the little boy forward, while carrying his mother back towards the gates of paradise, and the remaining moments, particularly the last piece of poetry by Charents in Masis Matian’s own voice recorded from the wedding of his son in 2008, are replete with words and symbols reminding us of our faith—that those we have lost may be far away, but are still with us and watching over us. The show culminates with the appearance of the boy as a grown man, this time playing the white violin gifted to him by his mother, now having fulfilled her wish and mastered the haunting, melancholic melody that features as the main theme of “Two Worlds and A Dream.” As the melody is repeated, building slowly, the sky and clouds on the film backdrop are covered by the gentle fading in and out of the pictures of each of the victims of Flight 7908. And we are reminded just one more time of the magnitude of the loss, as with the loss of any similar aviation disaster, which takes young and old without discrimination.

Matian’s achievement with this production, one could speculate, is truly manifold. She not only brings to Armenia a form of performance and choreography that is utterly unprecedented, but she does so in a context that both provides solace and deep sympathy to those whose lives were changed forever as a result of the events of July 15, 2009. The fact that she herself is also treating a subject matter that is deeply personal to her belies that this must also be a means to personal closure, around the kind of tragedy that usually leaves endless, eternal unanswered questions in its wake.

Matian is currently completing her teaching certification in ballet at the Royal Academy of Dance (RAD) in London, and will be returning to Armenia with the intention of bringing the RAD system of ballet certification to aspiring dancers in the country. She currently re-launched her own dance school in Yerevan called “Mshool,” specializing in teaching youngsters aged 4-16 (www.projectmasis.com). With any luck, Teni Matian’s singlehanded efforts in bringing “Two Worlds and A Dream” to the stage in Yerevan this past week will yield another greater long-term good, in the form of an emergent performance style that has heretofore been largely unexplored in Yerevan: the theatrical musical.