Velvet Sketches

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Media Initiatives Center presents the “Velvet Sketches” project. It will take you back to the spring of 2018, to see, hear, speak and act together with hundreds of thousands of citizens of Armenia who had stormed the streets, demanding a change.

How and why did it happen?

Our story is about the power of creativity and daring action, invincible souls and good energy, joy and ingenuity, love and unity, unbridled imagination and inner freedom.

In those days, people weaved their own little stories and became the heroes of the stories they created. Their stories were sometimes touching, sometimes funny; some of them were real, and some were make-believe. The people decided on their own when and how to tell their stories. They narrated through photographs or live Facebook broadcasts, designing large posters or scribbling slogans on pieces of paper.

They voiced their protests and desires through the sounds of Komitas and the wild rhythms of drums, through the spontaneous birth of songs, dances, games and, of course, action. And, seeing each other, they gained courage and strength, believed in their own power, and competed with each other on creativity.

By using traditional and innovative communication tools and applying them professionally or as amateurs, the people became the media.

See how this happened…

How and why did it happen?

In 2015, President of Armenia Serzh Sargsyan initiated constitutional amendments, as a result of which power would be handed from the President to the Prime Minister.
After his two presidential terms, Serzh Sargsyan decided to continue ruling the country for a third term, this time as Prime Minister.
On March 31, 2018, opposition MP Nikol Pashinyan started a protest march against Serzh Sargsyan’s premiership.
The wave of mass protests in the country gained traction particularly after April 17, 2018, when the Parliament elected Serzh Sargsyan as Prime Minister.
Within several days, the demonstrations paralyzed the country. Streets, intercity highways, and the metro were blocked, even the road to the airport was closed off for a few hours. Students walked out of classes and workers in all spheres declared a general strike.
Under this public pressure, Serzh Sargsyan resigned on April 23, after just five days as Prime Minister.
On May 1, the Parliament voted against Nikol Pashinyan as Prime Minister. On squares, in homes, cafes and even on public transport, the whole country watched the 10-hour parliamentary deliberations that day.
On May 8, hundreds of thousands of protesters forced the country’s Parliament to vote in favor of the candidate they considered their Prime Minister – Nikol Pashinyan.

The Velvet Revolution celebrated victory without casualties. But this is not what our story is about…

See

Act

Hear

Speak

Images that you want to see, because they evoke powerful emotions. And you want to get up and do something, because the images are calling out to you.

Inga Harutyunyan

psychologist

I stood up for

freedom
human rights
a good education

translation

Narine Ghalechyan ∙ 34 ∙ reporter

I wanted this country to go through revolution, so that one person wouldn't be allowed to stay in power three terms.

Many wrote on Facebook, “If you didn’t have so many livestreams, people would come out and go to the public squares.” Whoever wants, goes; whoever doesn’t, will eventually watch the livestream. Those days, our team, video editors, copy editors, all of us were journalists because we were all walking livestreams, as we all had smartphones. It’s quite common that journalists wouldn’t sleep much, that they should be ready that every time you go home you may have to come back. Something that for years I had planned to do, to exercise and lose 12 kg of weight, I achieved in just a few months because we were walking all the time in those days. As a joke, we would call this Nikol Fitness. I remember those days everyone, citizens, from different parts of the country would record videos or live footage and send it to us. Once I saw a 70-year-old man trying to cross Baghramyan Avenue, which was blocked by barbed wire. He pulled out his phone and began to film the police. He went up to them and said, let me cross. I was amazed. [Live videos] were really a deterrent; otherwise, there would’ve been so many cases of violence — also violence against journalists, which has happened after 2008. Hiding from live recording and new technologies, which the former officials would do, I find somewhat ridiculous in the 21st century. And those livestreams of Pashinyan’s opened a lot of doors. It also creates trust, when the country’s top figure is communicating with you, one-on-one, through a camera. I wanted a real revolution in this country, so that the same person is not given the chance to rule the country three times. I wanted my child and me and all of us to live in a country where human rights will be first and foremost, will be a priority. And if we don’t like something, we can confidently come out and protest, [and say] I don’t want you to lead this country any more.

The first phase of the protests was met with aggressive actions by the police. On April 16, the police blocked Yerevan’s Baghramyan Avenue (where the National Parliament and the President’s Office are situated) with barbed wire. They used batons as well as stun and sonic grenades to disperse protesters, leaving 54 people injured, including 2 policemen. Nikol Pashinyan, the leader of the protests, was injured and taken to hospital.

Armenian reporters were one of the main restraining factors for the police, when it came to using force against protesters. Being in these hot spots required not only bravery, but also physical abilities and fast reactions, as the protests were decentralized and traffic was blocked.

Mass detentions of peaceful activists were part of the first phase of the protests. People stood with each other, the detainees shouted their names out and those who were around passed the information on to human rights defenders. The lists of people detained circulated in Facebook groups, volunteer lawyers and activists tracked the police departments involved, and ensured that those people were released soon.

I stood up

as aprofesional
foropportunities
forlove

translation

It was about seven in the evening. The main rally started every day at 7 p.m. Until 7 p.m., people would gather at [Republic] Square and show their presence there, everyone in a different way. One or two cars were constantly driving around in circles — there’s this Armenian tradition to take a newlywed bride for a spin like that. People were taking themselves for a spin in the square, as if they were celebrating something in advance — that was the impression. There was a couple standing on one of those circulating cars, hugging each other, and in the background was the clock tower of the government building. When they approached, I gestured: “Why are you just standing like that, do something to make my shot interesting.” I don’t know if that’s considered staging or not, but it was just a game. I didn’t know if they would respond. But they understood what I meant, they kissed, I took a photo. Then they stopped, looked into my camera viewer, ok, “Can we kiss again?” I said, no, it’s good, go. In this photo there’s symbolism: the flag, the government building, and a young couple that will live in this country, in this new Armenia we were trying to build at that time. I’m happy that I can’t point to only one iconic situation or photo from that time and say that’s the most important symbolic image. It’s the drivers who were honking, and the drivers who were creating those traffic jams by pretending their cars had broken down. It’s the students, who were organizing the adults’ rallies. The girls, who were coordinating the boys’ actions... That was something new that had never happened before. Everyone understood that they were a small part of it all, building something new, surrendering the old.

Narek Aleksanyan ∙ 29 ∙ photographer

I’m happy that I can’t point to only one iconic situation or photo from that time and say that’s the most important symbolic image.

Narek Alexanyan was one of those photoreporters who were on the streets almost 24/7. It was quite a challenge to be in all places at once, as something was constantly happening on several streets.

Naturally, there was a mobile device in the hand of every participant. It was a tool to document events, share information and, of course, to celebrate their presence on the scene. Selfies –what is a revolution without them?

I stood up against

March 1
illegitimate rule
impunity

translation

Vahagn Gevorgyan ∙ 27 ∙ software developer

For me, Serzh Sargsyan’s image is a symbol of the Republicans and March 1, but under no circumstances could it be considered a symbol of the Republic of Armenia.

Near the Opera we saw the police arresting people for blocking the street or something. We started to capture it on our phones and told them, give us your names so the human rights’ defenders can find you easily. The police didn’t quite like that, so they arrested us too — me and two of my friends, Hayk and Robert. They took us to the station, Zeytun division. It was the first time the other young people we were with were detained during these rallies; we — my friends and I — had been arrested several times before. It was already a regular thing for us. The police officers understood this immediately, as we demanded they address us formally and with respect. Meanwhile, they were trying to pressure the others. There were some school-age children there, the officers were scaring them, saying now we’re going to call your families, your moms and dads, they’re going to get mad at you. These kids were so scared, and we didn’t like that. We wanted to do something so that they weren’t so stressed. At that moment we saw Serzh Sargsyan’s portrait on the wall — a symbol of the Republicans’ rule. And I, Robert, and Hayk thought if we take this photo and throw it out of the window, it will inspire these kids and it will also mean something for the people on the streets — it can be an inspiring action. For me, Serzh Sargsyan’s image is a symbol of the Republicans and March 1, but under no circumstances could it be considered a symbol of the Republic of Armenia. When we uploaded the video to Facebook, many people saw it, and that’s when the real commotion began. Some police officers came, the department head came down. We were waiting for a reprisal, thinking something could happen to us, but nothing happened.

Live broadcasts became a vital part of people’s involvement during the protests. It was late at night and one of the protesters decided to use the live broadcast of Azatutyun TV and send a message to his wife so that she would not worry. "Ira, I’ll be home around 1 [a.m.]," he said to the camera.

Curiously, his wife wasn't watching and didn't get the message. But the whole country did. Songs and posters "Ira, don't wait for your husband, he won't come tonight," emerged and entertained people.

Some curious or funny incidents developed into memes. Ashot was one of them. A man from the crowd addressed one of the policemen as if he knew him well. "Ashot, you think you can put on your helmet and I won’t recognize you? Do you know your Granny is here, too? Are you gonna hit her, too? "

It later turned out that this was an improvised performance. But Ashot became a meme, he appeared on posters and in anecdotes. It was a call to the police to join the people.

People had fun. Here is a recreation of the game Mortal Kombat, where Nikol Pashinyan is fighting with Serzh Sargsyan and then with Karen Karapetyan, the ex-Prime Minister.

In another video, the leader of the protests is Super Mario defeating the Republican MPs.

The most popular of these was probably the trailer of a non-existent movie starring Nikol Pashinyan and Serzh Sargsyan.

For many years, people have not had a voice before the authorities, and the noise that developed from that lack of voice grew so strong that it disrupted the usual rhythm.

Lusine Kharatyan

ethnographer

I stood up for

love
freedom
the future

translation

Sargis Khachatryan ∙ 26 ∙ footbal fan club drummer

I’d never seen such a thing, 100,000 people, their arms outstretched, waiting silently for the beat to chant in response. I was awestruck. I felt only love.

For 20 years, we’ve all known — I say 20, but I may be wrong here and there — I’ve seen only corruption, violence, lack of freedom of speech. The steps that were taken, accompanied by drums or not, the goal was always the same: regime change, revolution. When they arrested Nikol Pashinyan, remember? In Erebuni district, when they began to shoot, it wasn’t even arrest, it was downright kidnapping. I knew that after this kidnapping all of us, without exception, would leave our houses, and that’s what happened. That day we went to Shengavit police division, yeah, I remember correctly, and there was a huge number of people, if you recall. It didn’t even take a day; in a few hours my hopes were completely justified. There’s no other way: if we’ve started it, we have to finish it, that’s all. During the claps, when it was silent, during that famous chant “Hoo!” I fell in love with the Armenian people because I’d never seen such a thing, 100,000 people, their arms outstretched, waiting silently for the sign to chant in response. I was awestruck. I felt only love. And it was during those claps that I would often shout, “People, I love you all!” And sometimes someone would shout back, we love you too!

Barbed wire, helmets and water cannons, police forces and police weapons on one side... Open hands, the drum and Viking chant of “hu-hu-huu” on the other.

Students contributed to a considerable part of the success. They boycotted classes, took to the streets, were united, optimistic, and proactive. Here, their protest demanded the resignation of the Minister of Culture and called the Ministry employees to join them.

It was the day before the MPs voted for Serzh Sargsyan to become Prime Minister. Police lines and barbed wire featured in front of the President’s Office, Baghramyan 26. There was tension, fear. In about half an hour, the police would use force, leaving dozens injured. Later, Nikol Pashinyan and his team would take the decision to decentralize their actions, thus making it hard for the police to concentrate force and use it against a large number of people at once. Love didn't win that day, but it would soon...

I stood up for

a dream
love
dignity

translation

Those who couldn’t be on the streets to block them, who couldn’t participate in acts of civil disobedience, the idea was to make them into participants. For example, people with disabilities, who because of physical hardships simply couldn’t get to the street, or women, who bear families, children, worries on their shoulders. Or because of other stereotypes or traditional customs, these people could’ve been simply left out of this process. That’s how this idea of the pots and pans came about; the goal was for them to participate without leaving the house, just banging them outside their windows or balconies, and with that clanging sound, joining the civil disobedience campaign, and also heralding Serzh Sargsyan’s so-called “Last Bell.” You know, there’s this stereotype that we’re a grave, solemn people, that it doesn’t suit us. And I suddenly discovered the inner freedom in our society and in our people, when people are free, when they let themselves try interesting things. And hitting that [pot], I felt joy and happiness, a chance to get rid of internal complexes and fears, because there’s also a belief that this sound scares off evil forces. I understood how important it is, turning people into participants in any possible way. This way they also contribute to the big, important cause and share the responsibility.

Zaruhi Batoyan ∙ 39 ∙ human rights defender

There is a stereotype that we are serious and hard people, that such behavior doesn't suit us. And I discovered how much freedom our people have indeed.

It’s hard to tell how it changed, but it changed. The persistent apathy of the people and lack of belief in themselves or their ability to affect any process in the country changed to participation and emotional upliftment.

The line between the activists and passers-by dissolved. Someone who had gone to the grocery store would end up live streaming videos of police lines, or sitting on the floor of the crossroads with the activists. One’s degree of participation was decided spontaneously.

The active and bright participation of young girls and women was a new phenomenon for Armenian society, which is used to traditional, modest behavior by women.

I stood up

againstpoverty
againstmigration
for myfuture

translation

Arman Aharonyan ∙ 21 ∙ student

I was angry with the police officers for not joining the people [protesters] ... So what could I do to express that feeling? I would blow the vuvuzelа next to their ears. And they were getting nervous, you could see it from their eyes and behavior.

If I’m not mistaken, it was the 14th of April. When we reached Petak market, the doors were shut, so the employees don’t join [the rallies], don’t walk out. Then when Nikol Pashinyan managed to enter, pretending to buy sujukh, we entered Petak. Some vendors started distributing vuvuzelas free of charge, wanting to help us this way since they weren’t participating in the rallies. Personally, I didn’t get any at the time; I bought mine during the march. Slowly, they appeared in everyone’s hands, and looking at each other, at their friends, resonating, it became such an uproar. We blew two short and one long sound. When a few people did it together, the sound was very strong, very loud. Well, at some point we got angry with the police, that they’re not joining the people. How to have an effect, how to express your scorn? I used to blow the vuvuzela close to their ears and it mainly had its impact. They got annoyed a lot by that, you could tell from their looks, their behavior. Well that was the lesser of two evils we could do to them. We didn’t have anything against them, but it’s like you’re letting it all out. When you see a bus and all the passengers join you, you realize you’ve reached your goal, you’ve done your day’s work, so to speak. You chant “Join!” and 20 students join. Or cars stop and the passengers join. Now, watching the video of those days, I relive the same emotions. Those who haven’t gone through this can’t feel what we feel. And I’m so happy that I was in Armenia at that time, with the people, and I witnessed and participated in all that.

This tire was punctured deliberately by the car's owner. People used this method to block traffic and, at the same time, have a convincing explanation in case the police show up.

The sense of protest that had built up over years flooded out into the streets, ending up as the writing on picket signs or walls, and the lyrics of songs.

Gegham Vardanyan

media expert

I stood up because

I am anartist
my art ispolitical
this is mycountry

translation

Hovhannes Margaryan ∙ 64 ∙ artist

Those negative figures played a huge role. What Serzh Sargsyan did was a gift to the revolution, no one could imagine doing such a thing. Appointing himself again [to rule the country], after promising “I won’t do that”… But there he was, claiming power once again.

For 100 years this region has been repressed; whoever was progressive, they were pressured, exiled, executed. All the negative things have happened, but humanity always gives birth anew, always nourishes — and see, the scales tipped in our favor this time. First, it was very interesting that the youth came out. I admired that especially young women were actively involved, thanks to whom I believe things turned out well. I was watching — the police were taken aback. They didn’t know how to act with them: they’re not only young, but also girls — how can they harm them? Love also played a big role, and youth, and everything — even the negative characters. Those negative figures played a huge role. What Serzh Sargsyan did was a gift to the revolution, no one could imagine to do such a thing. Appointing himself again [to rule the country], after promising “I won’t do that”… And here he takes the power again. He says, “What, you want [another] March 1?” He unwillingly confessed that they’ll do it again, that they did that. They could’ve scared us with March 1, but they couldn’t scare the youth — those young guys had already lived through the Four-Day War. So here again he was mistaken. You know, I noticed that the amateur posters were better than the professional ones. They’re more direct. What’s important is the idea, the concept. One of the posters said: “You can’t imagine how disgusted we are with you” — referring to the old MPs that were still in Parliament at the time. The way of thinking is the most important: “What do you think? What is this all about?” If I put it briefly, it’s about people, we’re talking about democracy.

Many posters were designed and printed through the initiative of ordinary people. Their style and quality ranged from beautiful calligraphic typography to homemade black-and-white penned copies.

Some print houses refused to receive payment and printed the revolutionary posters and flyers free of charge. In general, contributing any way you could and feeling involved was very common those days.

Posters said:

Reject Serzh, Reject his brother Sashik, reject the RPA...

Martuni is with you, Vardenis is with you, Little Vedi is with you…

Police, join us!

Serzh-less Armenia!

The people rule!

Nikol Pashinyan – national hero!

Checkmate, baby!

I stood up

toreturn home
for adream
for equality

translation

Hayk Stver ∙ 21 ∙ composer & singer

I think there’s aggression too [in this song], but righteous aggression, not like crazy aggression; aggression to shake people up and get them off their couches.

There was a decline in our country and it was scary to think what would happen next. That is, the country would empty and become what, I don’t know. It would probably become some place for Russia, where there would just be [Russian] military bases and some few thousand Armenians serving them. I too had no choice but to go and find my happiness, my way in another country. It was mid- March when my brother called and said this is what they’re planning, they are going to walk [from Gyumri to Yerevan], and they need an anthem, an anthem for a revolution. Pashinyan wrote the words, and the rest is up to me. We discussed what genre is more inspiring to walk under, is rhythmic, or best matches the lyrics. We decided rock probably comes closest. I think there’s aggression too, but right aggression, not like crazy aggression; aggression to shake people up and get them off their couches. Besides, it had to reach every single Armenian that our country’s future depends on them. “I’ve lost, over and over again I’ve lost And I have seen the smirk of the lie But my will is stronger than stone My soul doesn’t know how to surrender” They say mine is the voice of the revolution. I think it sounds beautiful.

The song "My step" with lyrics by Nikol Pashinyan, music and performance by Hayk Stver, was meant to become the anthem of the revolution. And it did, but it was not the only one.

As the movement grew larger, new songs emerged one after the other – different in their genres and suiting the tastes of different kinds of people. Just as there was a place for every type of person in this movement for change, so there was a variety of songs as a reflection of the people at the events.

I participated for

my professional calling

translation

There’s this impression that it was my way of protest. Honestly, it was very much my professional experience. When there’s a revolution happening before your eyes and everyone’s on their feet, you think, is it possible to create a brand in all of this? I created the typeface about 3–4 years ago, based on a completely different subject, because that typeface is my adaptation of an old Armenian typeface. It was appropriate, in this case, to write the word in that type because it was very harmonious with the cause, it totally looks like it’s crying out. I had a few samples of ready-made hats [with the “dukhov” slogan], and I was also listening and seeing that that word was being used by the guys, by Nikol and everyone. I thought a hat would be appropriate to give as a gift, to firmly fix the word “dukhov” as a brand in the form of a hat. I asked my friends to hand it to him, they did, he wore it, and the rest is history. [“Dukhov” means] be “with courage,” take your steps courageously, take risks, and that has become the main slogan. If we think of what this movement was about, it was about taking “dukhov” steps [with courage] — unlike the “Reject Serzh” slogan, which was temporary and very specific: once he was rejected, the slogan lost its power. In my entire life I’ve never participated [in protests], I kept my distance from everything. But if everyone now has stood up and everyone’s so good and interesting in this unprecedented way, everyone’s smiling, how can you stand back or refuse?

Ara Aslanyan ∙ 36 ∙ special project manager

Be “with courage,” take your steps courageously, take risks, and that [“Dukhov” ] has become the main slogan. If we think of what this movement was about, it was about taking “dukhov” steps.

"Policeman, join us!", "The police is ours!" ... These calls were shouted out from the very first days. Nikol Pashinyan promoted this attitude to avoid the spread of hatred within society. Mostly, it had its effects.

"Turn to us, Mr. Policeman, I beg you, turn to us. I am fighting so that your children and mine can live in a better country. It's you who beat them! How long will this go on?"

School pupils skipped classes en masse, joining the protests against the regime. Parents took their small children to the rallies. This is quite unusual behavior for Armenians who are very cautious and protective of their children. This was a move symbolizing the peacefulness of intentions.

In order for people to defeat the authorities, they had to change the practices of the people in power. So they blocked off the spaces that the authorities used to demonstrate their power - the streets.

Aghasi Tadevosyan

cultural anthropologist

I stood up

againstinjustice
for myprinciples
forsolidarity

translation

Reaching Barekamutyun metro, I saw some young people blocking the metro. Without wasting a second I sat down next to my friends [in between the train doors]. I say “friends,” but we knew each other only a few days. Then the police started negotiating, requesting us to leave. The conductor was pressing the button to close the train doors; and the doors were really hurting us. The police were warning us, “You’ll get hurt, the train will move now, your legs are outside, you’ll get hurt.” And we were saying, “Well then it’s your responsibility to prevent us from possible harm. Instruct the driver to come out.” Many people were still trying to get to work and were saying, “You’re bothering us, can you go protest somewhere else?” During those days some people were still treating our actions as hopeless. All public transportation was stopped. The alternative to get somewhere was the metro, and it was necessary to stop that too. Also, the metro with its strategic significance is a kind of sacred space. We had to involve it into a total blockade too. I knew that our safety comes from being together and being peaceful. Communicating these principles to each other also helps us to succeed. Later, in June, when I was watching a video of the days of the revolution, I was terrified by what happened and what could’ve happened. But that was much later.

Maria Karapetyan ∙ 30 ∙ conflictologist

The police were warning us, “You’ll get hurt, the train will move now, your legs are outside, you’ll get hurt.” And we were saying, “Well then it’s your responsibility to prevent us from possible harm. Instruct the driver to come out.”

What can one use to block traffic? Just about anything. Park benches, vehicles, garbage containers and, after all, themselves. This experience came from the past – the Electric Yerevan protests kept one of the Yerevan's main avenues, Baghramyan, blocked for more than two weeks in 2015.

translation

Bagrat Aznauryan ∙ 27 ∙ software developer

We decided to do something funny, too. So, we found someone who was selling a piano, bought it and wrote “on Serzh’s back”.

Bagrat Aznauryan ∙ 27 ∙ software developer

We decided to do something funny, too. So, we found someone who was selling a piano, bought it and wrote “on Serzh’s back”.

translation

When the blocking of streets and so on began en masse, whatever thought crossed their mind they did it, we said ok, let’s also do something, something happy. So in the morning we went and found a piano seller, and we wrote on [the piano] “Serzh’s back.” Why “Serzh’s back”? Because we thought it’s better to write something cynical, harsh, and catching. At the time the latest [slogan] was “Take a step on Serzh’s back,” so we wrote “Serzh’s back” without the “Take a step.” We brought the piano down to the middle of Northern Avenue. With five people pushing it, we somehow brought it down, and played it there. As soon as we brought it to [the intersection of] Tumanyan and Abovyan streets, what a delight! People came and started to play it. People who generally were not involved in music but went to music school as a child played a couple of pieces, whatever they remembered. At yet another rally in Republic Square, we were listening intently to see what they’re saying, when we hear a scrapping noise. All of a sudden we see a group of young people out of nowhere dragging our piano to the square. They approached us then continued pushing it down Amiryan St. Now we don’t know where the piano is. My favorite thing was you spend your day, you go to a street, a second street, a third street, but during that same time, when you manage to shut down two, three streets, very beautiful and interesting things are happening in so many other places. The most interesting thing was when I would come [home] in the evening, sit down, and look through Facebook and YouTube, and see what others had done, and I wouldn’t believe that had happened in Yerevan, that it had happened in Armenia.

I stood up
for Armenia to be

free
happy
a decent place to live

translation

At the first rally, my child was 2.5 months old. It seemed my baby was the youngest; everyone was looking at me like “What are you doing, girl, go home!” Of course I discussed it with my husband. We thought about it, he said, ok, you stay at home, I’ll go instead. I said, you can stay with the child, I’ll go, and I’ll come back to feed him. I was thinking, no, I can’t stay home and watch from the sidelines, because there are always so many who watch from the sidelines. I was happily shocked that people finally took to the streets. Since 2007, I’ve participated in all the protests, and I used to ask myself: Is everything ok in people’s lives? And even if it was and they didn’t want to protest, but then March 1 happened. At the very least 10 people’s lives were stolen, after all. How can people not come out? But thanks to this contagioius and networked struggle, the role of each person became important. Everyone felt central to all this; that is, if you block a small street, to some extent you add your support, your 1+ to this fight. I hope that everything will be so good in Armenia that we’ll just remember those days as “you know, Levon [my son], April 23, 2018, was an important turning point for the Republic of Armenia. From that day on, Armenia became such a good place to live, as you know it.”

Hermine Matevosyan ∙ 26 ∙ designer-architect

Everyone felt central to all this; that is, if you block a small street, to some extent you add your support, your 1+ to this fight.

Young mothers with their kids, as their live shields and as a statement. They stood up so that their children could have a better life, better future, better country to live in, and a better course of history. They had never lived in Soviet times and now rejected the rulers who had come from the past.

In the video, people staged a theatrical funeral of Serzh Sargsyan. The idea probably came after the leader of the protests called Mr. Sargsyan a political corpse. A puppet of Cheburashka, a famous cartoon character from Soviet times and an insulting nickname of Mr. Sargsyan, was placed in a coffin. Performances, puppet theaters, humorous posters, slogans and poems made the Velvet Revolution fun to participate in.

I stood up

as acitizen
as anartist
againsthuman depravity

translation

Hayk Makiyan ∙ 28 ∙ musician

Art is the synonym of freedom itself — we probably felt it most of all at that moment.

We did something that amazes us now: how did such a thing cross our minds? A string quartet (two violins, a viola, and a cello), which is usually seen seated, played in one place. That day was marked by walking, on the main streets. When, if not now, do we show that we have faith in what we did, we believe in its phenomenal role and meaning? For many years, art in every possible way has been subjected to; it functioned as an entertaining, noble, royal thing. Art consciousness, which is the alternative, the nervous system that is the first to feel that something’s not right and sends signals to your brain, was being suppressed. Kandinsky said something interesting: “The artist has a triple responsibility to the non-artists.” Art is the synonym of freedom itself — we probably felt it most of all at that moment. That freedom, that ease, people’s response, and all of our eyes lit with joy. To put it mildly, I’m not the best musician and I don’t pretend to be; I’m working on it, it’s true, but at that moment, without realizing it, I probably played my best.

Creativity of all kinds, freedom of expression in all its means, flexibility in what you do, when you do it and who you do it with — these are the things that united the people who had taken to the streets. Smiling people... quite an uncommon sight, given that Armenians don't smile much.

Before the Velvet Revolution, the flag was not so popular among Armenian people. You would rarely see one on cars or at windows as is usual in the USA, France, UK etc. But this suddenly changed!

translation

Anahit Gevorgyan ∙ 41 ∙ school teacher

The revolution was like a national game, a flashmob that we all played.

Serzh Sargsyan had always been lied to. He was cut off from the people. He couldn’t imagine that the cup of people’s patience had actually overflown, that people are really living poorly. They [the authorities] had shut themselves in their cars, their luxurious, opulent life, and they just couldn’t picture the reality. The entire revolution, the movement for me was like a national game, like a flash mob. They [the protesters] would be sparked to action and organize themselves. We [teachers and students] were once again on a strike when I said let’s go to the march not by walking but by dancing. [Dancing] gives you strength, it makes you feel the people around you, you have a spiritual connection with them; it encompasses determination, patience, and it’s inclusive. It’s the most unified act that two to three or more people can do together. You feel the person next to you, you’re holding their hand, you’re their support, you also listen to them, right? You listen to them, listen to the music and to your inner voice. We were watching the livestream coverage to see where Nikol and his team are, where there’s need to support, to block the street, and we would go there on foot. Drivers who blocked the streets with their cars would ask us: “Girls, do you have your music on a USB key? Do you want us to turn on the music to accompany your dancing?” I had never seen such bright Armenian eyes. That too gave us strength. I constantly felt myself to be important, and I realized that I’m responsible not only for what I do, but also for many people, children, and youth. And I wouldn’t get tired. Probably the secret was in that feeling, in those bright eyes, in the light and faith I saw in everyone around.

Anahit Gevorgyan ∙ 41 ∙ school teacher

The revolution was like a national game, a flashmob that we all played.

translation

Serzh Sargsyan had always been lied to. He was cut off from the people. He couldn’t imagine that the cup of people’s patience had actually overflown, that people are really living poorly. They [the authorities] had shut themselves in their cars, their luxurious, opulent life, and they just couldn’t picture the reality. The entire revolution, the movement for me was like a national game, like a flash mob. They [the protesters] would be sparked to action and organize themselves. We [teachers and students] were once again on a strike when I said let’s go to the march not by walking but by dancing. [Dancing] gives you strength, it makes you feel the people around you, you have a spiritual connection with them; it encompasses determination, patience, and it’s inclusive. It’s the most unified act that two to three or more people can do together. You feel the person next to you, you’re holding their hand, you’re their support, you also listen to them, right? You listen to them, listen to the music and to your inner voice. We were watching the livestream coverage to see where Nikol and his team are, where there’s need to support, to block the street, and we would go there on foot. Drivers who blocked the streets with their cars would ask us: “Girls, do you have your music on a USB key? Do you want us to turn on the music to accompany your dancing?” I had never seen such bright Armenian eyes. That too gave us strength. I constantly felt myself to be important, and I realized that I’m responsible not only for what I do, but also for many people, children, and youth. And I wouldn’t get tired. Probably the secret was in that feeling, in those bright eyes, in the light and faith I saw in everyone around.

The expressions of the people are what make the real face of Armenian Velvet Revolution.

Produced, designed and directed by

Natalie Harutyunyan

Project Consultant

Artem Galustyan

Photo and videography by

Hakob Hovhannisyan
Sona Kocharyan
Levon Kalantar
Nouneh Sarkissian

Software Developer

Artak Kolyan

Reporter

Nelly Rafaelyan

Scripts

Natalie Harutunyan
Nelly Rafaelyan

Armenian version editors

Nelly Rafaelyan
Narine Safaryan
Harutyun Mansuryan

English translators and editors

Nazareth Seferian
Adrine Der-Boghossian

Communication support

Aren Manukyan

Technical support

Konstantin Geodakyan
Vardan Arzumanyan

Project director

Nouneh Sarkissian

Thanks to our colleagues for the
provided photo and videography

Narek Alexanyan
Ani Gevorgyan
Photolure

A1+
Emil Avetisyan
Azatutyun TV
Civilnet

We thank all the video owners who shared their footage with the public and notify that for the best performance of the project their videos from youtube were re-uploaded on the MIC vimeo page.

Special thanks to the people featured in the project

The project was produced by Media Initiatives Center with the support by OPEN Media Hub with funds provided by the European Union, as also by the support of the American people through the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) within the framework of the “Media for Informed Civic Engagement” project. The contents are the sole responsibility of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of EU, USAID or the United States Government.

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