մայր

mother, daughter, may 2013 by cassandra tavukciyan

Salouda Raouda Choucair 

mashallah tamar

istanbul may 2013

influence de l'architécture arménienne en occident - 1966

spain 2013

i miss sleeping in different beds with you, sitting outside the balcony, staying out late, warm nights

gorky

forever and always in love with arshile gorky

goodbye summer 2013

figs, family, milo

emily carr uni girls 2013

two moons, istanbul 2013

inspiration

nara

a lovely short film by anush babajanyan

les arméniens

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mbh8gFw8AYQ

book

working on a book about Istanbul, 2013

new work

takuhi, may 2013 

I have been nice and busy scanning and organizing my recent film from Istanbul in May. 

This is a portrait of my mother sitting on our balcony in Kinali Island. She was born in Istanbul in 1962. 

figs, august 2013 

հայերեն

bodrum, may 2013 by cassandra tavukciyan

My family is Armenian, but a lot of my family were born and raised in Turkey because of the Armenian Genocide which lead a lot of Armenians to leave Armenia and create new lives in other countries. A lot of Armenians ended up in Turkey and were forced to change their names to Turkish names. My last name for example "Tavukciyan" isn't even really Armenian. "Tavuk" means "chicken" in Turkish. The "iyan" makes my name Armenian. Why can't we change this?

Sometimes I feel torn between these two countries. My mother, grandparents on both sides and their parents were all born in Istanbul. My grandparents have never even visited to Armenia nor my mother, nor do they plan on going anytime soon. My aunt and cousin from my mom's side were both born in Istanbul and go back to every year because they feel this nostalgic connection to their birth city, but they have no desire to go see Armenia. I had the privilege of going to Armenia in 2010 with a youth group and it was strange for me because I felt no connection to the people or the land. They spoke a different dialect and they didn't feel like my family over here in Canada. So I guess I am interested in what it means for a family with one ethnicity to be brought up in another country/culture and how they can be more connected with that country rather than their own mother country.

I know my story is not unlike others and I guess I want to share my story and hear others as well.

kınalıada

kinali house, may 2013

I took these two photographs in Istanbul. The first, a dish of plums and the second the bedroom where my grandmother slept. Kınalıada  means "Henna Island" in Turkish, as the land has a reddish colour from the iron and copper that has been mined there. Ottoman Greeks called it Proti, and they and their Armenian neighbors built Ottoman-Victorian summer villas on the island, many of which survived along with several churches.

My mother and her family were one of the many Armenian families who had a house on Kınalı   Her summers were spent there without cars, walking the whole island, swimming in the sea and running away from the stray dogs. Her house is still there, but it has unfortunately been sold years back. 

I stayed on the island at a family friends home there this past May with my mother, father, aunt and grandmother. 

The reward: the many small beaches on Kınalı hat were less crowded with day-trippers from the city, hearing Armenian on the streets, the stray dogs and cats, walking the streets of my mother's childhood.

good hope road, 1945 by arshile gorky

ինքնուրույն

bodrum, may 2013, by cassandra tavukciyan

I took this one of myself in Bodrum, Turkey. What does it mean to take a photograph of yourself? Is it to have more control over your own image? Even so, with this camera you cannot see what the image will look like until the image develops. I like how the shadow of the camera is cast on my face. 

We stayed in Bodrum for 5 nights. We ate delicious fish, swam in the Mediterranean. Why must this land have such beauty?