In 2016, when I was nine years old, on a trip to Armenia my family and I happened upon what looked like a khachkar workshop on Arami 29 Street in Yerevan. Curious, we crossed the street to get a closer glimpse. The man there asked us if we were interested in attempting to carve something of our own. My brothers, Sevan and Artin, and I eagerly accepted and spent some time chipping away at the tuf kar.
Since then, whenever we have returned to Yerevan, we’ve stopped by the workshop. During this year’s trip, my brothers knew they wanted to return and take a lesson with the original owner’s son Hambik Hambardzumyan, who took over the business. My mother and I walked them over to the shop and looked around at all of the beautiful work on display. Multiple people stood in the sun, bent over and carving slabs of stone.
Khachkars have been an integral part of Armenian art history and can be found standing anywhere in the country. One of the oldest khachkars in the world dates back to the year 866 C.E., and around 50,000 Armenian khachkars exist in the country today. Watching the creation of this art immediately sparked my interest, and I asked Hambik if I could interview him about his family business. He eagerly agreed to meet with me.
We sat down, and I asked him questions in Armenian about how long the business had been in his family. Hambik told me that his father, Varazdat, started the business in the 90s when Hambik was young. The workshop was in their yard, on the street near where they lived. For Hambik and his friends, however, it wasn’t just a street. It was their playground. There were no cars or buildings then, and the street was closed. They would play hide and seek and then go and work on making khachkars in his father’s shop.
Hambik’s father passed on to him his love for creating khachkars. His father told him that creating khachkars was a dying art. Hambik strives to revive this art by spreading his knowledge of it to anyone who is willing to learn. Whether or not they are Armenian, Hambik passionately passes on his skills and shares the ancient tradition of Armenian khachkar making to people from all over the world who visit his shop.
For Hambik, making the khachkars has never been work. “Es azad em (I am free),” he said. In his mind, he has never worked, and he makes the most of his life by living it. Hambik wishes for all who love the art of creating khachkars to continue to work and keep the tradition alive. It can also be a source of intrigue and awe for tourists who come across their shops.
He has also passed on his expertise to his two children. Hambik smiled as he told me about how his children stop by and work on khachkars whenever they wish, just as he did when he was younger.
When I asked Hambik if he hopes for his children to continue the business, I received an interesting answer. Hope is a very bad thing, Hambik told me. If you place your hope onto something, you are placing on it your expectations. If you place your hope on a person, and they do not meet your expectation, you are met with disappointment. From this disappointment, Hambik continued, comes stress and depression. The greater your hopes, the worse the outcome.
Hambik has no hopes for his children to continue the business. If they themselves wish to continue the family business, Hambik explained, that would be their choice, but they are also free to choose whatever other life they might want.
Hambik, however, did not choose this life. “Kides (You know),” Hambik said, “Es chem untrel es gyanku; es gyankuna ints untrel (I didn’t choose this life; this life chose me).”
The beautiful khachkars I saw standing proudly in his shop came to my mind, and I asked Hambik how he chooses his designs. “Improvisation,” Hambik answered. He uses classical patterns and combines them with new ideas.
To create one of his khachkars, first he and his crew choose the stone. Khachkars are traditionally made with tuf kar, and this is the stone that Hambik solely uses. There are certain rules for making a traditional khachkar. For example, the cross must be in the middle, and there must be a frame designed around it.
They begin by sketching their design on the stone. This is a long process, as Hambik often sketches an entire section only to erase it and make changes. Since his designs are born from improvisation, it is impossible to know which elements of the design will be kept and which will change before they begin to carve. Sometimes, the design doesn’t come out right. According to Hambik, this means it isn’t time yet for the khachkar to be made. It is only when he is pleased by the entire design that Hambik knows the khachkar is ready.
Once the design is finalized, they begin to carve into the stone. It is crucial that the walls remain straight. Once the walls are straight, they begin to work on the design, which can take months. It took Hambik and his crew an entire year to complete two large-scale khachkars. On average, a single khachkar takes Hambik and his crew of three people around five months to create. According to Hambik, if they rush, their results will not be the same, and the khachkars would lose a piece of what makes them so incredible. If one wants a khachkar to be beautiful, Hambik added, there must be freedom in its design and freedom in the amount of time it takes to create it.
His life is not only dedicated to khachkars. Hambik purchased some land and planted trees on the property. Those trees grow quickly, and he plans to use the profit from the wood to buy more land and plant enough trees to create a forest. In this forest, he would build houses and establish a new community for different thinkers. In the kitchen, there would only be natural and healthy food, and sugar would be replaced with honey. Hambik has already planned this community, and now he waits for the trees he planted to grow.
When I asked Hambik if he makes custom khachkars for his patrons, I received a fascinating answer. Hambik said that he cannot do exactly what his patrons ask for when creating a khachkar, as it goes against his process of improvisation. Instead, he shows his clients photos of his completed works and asks them which ones they like best. Once Hambik has a sense of what they like, he begins the design. However, Hambik admitted as he chuckled, the outcome, more often than not, is vastly different from the khachkars the clients like best.
Hambik’s khachkars can be found in the homes of clients all over the world. He uses Instagram and Facebook to advertise his business and display his incredible work. Despite his distaste for social media, Hambik sees it as a good way to spread news of his work and receive more clients. In a city that continuously changes, Hambik’s workshop is a treasure untouched. Stop in for a class and support the tradition of Armenian khachkar making!
Sirahn Toufayan
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Thank you for this. I look forward to visiting this shop on my next trip to Armenia! A distinctly Armenian art form and a compelling, interesting artist. Beautifully brought to us in this article.
Visited the khatchkar workshop this year. I have regularly visited it every time I have been in Yerevan, i.e. for the last twenty years. The workshop produced khatchkars for Wales, Eire and Slovakia. Sadly only the one in Eire survives as the other two were smashed by you can guess who. Article reads well but shame that the history of khatchkars is given as 866 C.E. Surely, Armenia being the first Christian nation, A.D. should have been used? Sad….