“The emergence of singer - songwriter Gor Mkhitarian reflects the best of the underground music scene
now evolving in Armenia”

Asbarez

Suspicious of most popular Armenian music, Asbarez Summer intern Gohar Galyan soon became attracted to Gor's music and took on the mission to investigate the man behind the compelling songs. She found out his fans include Armenia's Peace Corps volunteers who don't even understand a word he utters. . .  

(Asbarez)--A documentary on Gor shows him on a stage, wearing a thick jacket singing to a crowded hall. As Gor bellows into the microphone, a thick cylinder of smoke escapes his mouth. That was March 1, 2003, at the Rock Club in Yerevan.

The documentary, prepared by Sara Anjargolian and Lauren Kesner, also zooms in on some of the audience. Peace Corp members, Armenians and non-Armenians alike sway to the music, intently listening to the lyrics, though many don't understand what Gor is actually singing. In fact, Gor has what seems like a cult following in Armenia. One woman professes to not having missed a single concert in three years. Though Gor sings in Armenian, non Armenian peace Corp members confess to loving his music.    

In the video, Gor looks tall and husky with rugged features. Almost like someone you would not want to piss off. But when I met Gor, I was pleasantly surprised. Yes, he is tall. Yes, he is husky. And yes, he rugged. But in sharp contrast to his physical features, he is uber nice, polite and soft spoken. During the two hour long interview, Gor speaks barely above a whisper never raising his voice. He is pensive, taking his time to answer the questions about his music, life, and Armenia.  

I stumbled onto Gor's music by accident. I, no fan of popular Armenia music, hesitated when my boss suggested putting Gor's demo CD into the player. But from the first verse, I was hooked. The sound, a combination of Bob Dylan and Dave Matthews reminded me of another favorite Ruben Haghverdian. But it was younger and sexier.  

So I played the demo on repeat in the car—only five songs and I had them memorized. And then, that song, that one song, stuck with me. The lyrics were amazing; his husky voice was engulfing, and the Jim Morrison grunt at the end of the chorus just orgasmic. But I am a human being too. I want to dance with you. And I'm waiting for the night to come so we can kiss in the light of a blue light. The blue light stuck with me: why were they kissing under the blue light? I dug into my brain, into rusted knowledge gathered from literature class trying to decipher the true meaning of the blue light. So when I sat down with Gor, that was one of my first questions. “Why was the couple kissing under a blue light instead of a red or yellow or green light?” “Simple,” says Gor. Blue light gives the couple a little privacy because the light is dark and it is hard to see what the couple is actually doing under the light. This is especially important in Armenia where kissing in public is still frowned on” And besides, “ he says with a grin, “who wants to kiss under a yellow light?”  

“Yeraz”

Gor ought to know about Armenian traditions and taboos. He was born in Vanazor in 1973, where he graduated from high school and worked in the Vanazor chamber choir and as a tour organizer in a puppet theater. In 1994 he was invited to play the guitar in a Vanazor rock back Snack. In 1999, Snack changed its name to Lav Eli. After a brief stint working in Russia and singing with another band there, he moved back to Vanazor. In 2001, he moved to Yerevan and started his own band called the Gor Mkhitarian Band. The music was more folky and acoustic with a guitar and a banjo. He also released his first album, Yeraz, in 2001.  

Gor only stared writing in 2000, and focused on the hardship Armenia endured after the collapse of the Soviet Republic. “I didn't write music until I was 27,” he says. He says that by then the memory dam was flooding and the experience was ready to jump from his memories into the paper. “When I was 27, I lived through my lyrics.” So Yeraz is biographical, reflective of the bad years, the poor social conditions. “It is what I had grown up in,” he says. The songs on Yeraz are thus gloomy and dark. “But I like the dark,” he says. “There is depth in darkness.” In Mer Tan Mech , he sings about people wanting to give up the struggle for life; about wanting to go home, lie down, close their eyes and forget about living. “I am just exhausted and have calmly decided to give up. I don't even want to try to think about this anymore. As long as I am in bed, time seems to stand still. Too bad I only now understand I struggled so long in vain,” he sings.  

Gor first came to America in November, 2002 for the Armenian Music Awards. His work was nominated for Best Alternative Folk Album, Best New Comer, and Best Album Cover, which he won. After the awards, he traveled to San Francisco and New York to perform.  

In New York City, he performed in the Knitting Factory. He also traveled to London for a concert, after which he returned to Armenia.  

Gor's writing transitioned after the first album. He started writing about happier topics, about love. “I said I want to have a little fun,” he says. “There is love. Let's talk about it, sing about it, and do it.”  

The later writing is somewhat reflective of the period when Gor formed tight friendships with the Peace Corp volunteers. While still performing with Snack, one of the band members stuck up a friendship with a Peace Corp volunteer and one thing led to another, and the Peace Corp volunteers became a regular feature at the concerts. The band was also invited to perform at the Peace Corp swearing in ceremony parties. Gor formed a close friendship with a handful of the volunteers and started dating one of them. “I was exposed to new things, new culture,” he says. “That affected me a lot.” He still maintains his friendships with the Peace Corp volunteers; two of those friends, Jason Demerjian and Aaron Stayman, are now in his band.  

The Peace Corp friendships helped shape Gor into a nexus between the Armenians in Armenia and the Diaspora. “When you meet and befriend other people, you try to see from their perspective. You tie your cultures together and your friends together because you know them,” he says. According to Gor, exposure to different people is of utmost importance. “If you don't have that, the nexus is not going to form.” But because of the exposure to the Peace Corp volunteers, and because of subsequent employment with a Diaspora group in Armenia, Gor has the unique talent of being comfortable around both Armenians in Armenia, and Diaspora Armenians. But the two culture often interpret his lyrics differently. In Voch Me Ban , he sings about an individual who society has cast aside and is ready to kill. But the discarded individual is so much above those who mock and persecute him, that he ready to die while society entertains giving him another chance. Gor wrote the lyrics with societal outcasts in mind: those who do not fit into society's molds and as a result are cast aside and castigated by society. While Armenians in Armenia understood the song as he meant it, the Diaspora Armenians thought the lyrics were metaphorical; they believed that Armenians in Armenia were saying ‘we don't need you anymore, we can do it ourselves.'  

“It was funny. I read another meaning into my own song,” says Gor. While Gor does not intentionally load his lyrics with double entendres, he doesn't mind when people interpret his music differently than he intended. “I don't sit and think about what I am writing about,” he says. “I know there is a theme in my head trying to get out, so I sit and write it.”  

New CD, His Future. . . Armenia's Future

Gor is busy performing and wrapping up production on his new album Godfather Tom due out on November 4. But although Gor is busy with work here, he plans to return to Armenia. “I am going to go back to Armenia,” he says. “But the ideal situation for me is to live at both places.” He talks of his family and his roots being in Armenia but of his professional ties and the market for his music being in America.  

With one leg in Armenia and another in the US, Gor would continue acting as a nexus between the two societies. And that is why he understands better than most people Armenia's economic and political hardships and necessities and the effects of the dire economic conditions on Armenian art, especially music. “The economy has to change so that music can become a career option,” he explains. Even talented musicians end up casting their careers aside so that they can feed their families. There is needs to be collaboration between the Diaspora and Armenia in all spheres and society will also become more tolerant with contact and exposure to the Diaspora, says Gor. “Look at the world, you learn from one another.” The other salient component of change in Armenia, according to Gor, is education. “Education needs to be exchange based,” he says. “A big part of my friends studied abroad and work in Armenia.” Because of their experiences abroad, they think differently. “But if it goes on like this, no one will remain in Armenia,” he concludes. “People are running away from it.”  

With better economic conditions, progress can be made in Armenian music. According to Gor, the taste in Armenian music is established in Armenian from where is slowly spreads to the Diaspora communities around the world. But now, there is a statement in Armenian music. “There is always going to be traditional Armenian music. That is good but you can't always stay on that root,” he says. Exposure with the Diaspora will not only improve conditions economically in Armenia, but it will also make the country more tolerant. As a result, society will not cast aside outsiders as easily and great musicians, who are often thought to be ‘different' will have the opportunity to emerge.  

For now Gor is doing is part. In March, he sang in Armenia to an audience including Diaspora Armenians and Americans. On Saturday and Sunday in the US, he will sing to an audience composed of American Armenians. And hopefully, this time around, the club will have heating so that he won't have to wear a parka and smoke will not escape his mouth as he sings into the mike.