Kopoushian Garo غارو كبوشيان
A mechatronic installation animating a relic - a traditional Armenian dress.
A mechanical performance of an object devoid of life, floating between the physical and spiritual realms, looking for a path back home, whence stood a graceful dancer, her feet now scorched by the fiery desert of Deir ez-Zor. The dancer long gone but the dress still lingers; hollow, forgotten, with only its shadows to keep it company.
I am a third generation descendant of the Armenian genocide survivors.
I was born in Jerusalem and was brought up in the Armenian quarter in the Old City, a home away from home. One of many Armenian communities within the diaspora which still retains the language, culture and heritage of my people, and the memory of our devastating past.
Like a scar of a deadly wound that never completely healed, we wait, we hope that one day justice and a small measure of peace will be granted to all those who have perished, and for us who have survived.