Hachig Kazarian in the village of Ankugh near Van (of Dork Ankegh fame)
"ARMENIA" - CD of Hachig Kazarian & His Ensemble
FOR HACHIG KAZARIAN
By Mary Terzian
Hachig Kazarian, a fellow traveler of fame during our recent Armenian Heritage Society trip to Historic Armenia, was born in Detroit, Michigan, just before World War II, to a double lineage of Vanetzi parents. He grew up in an Armenian neighborhood, attended public schools and, inevitably, Saturday school, evidenced by his fluent Armenian.
Hachig perfected his art at the Julliard School of Music from where he obtained his Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in Music Performance. He continued his studies at Eastern Michigan University earning a Bachelor in Musical Education and a second Master in Ethnomusicology. He then taught instrumental music at the High School and Middle School levels, and performed Armenian folk music all over the East Coast, also directing choirs at St. Sarkis and St. John Churches in Detroit.
Hachig’s talent flows from his lineage. His paternal grandfather, who was known for his singing and dancing talents, was pivotal in perpetuating Armenian folk dancing in the greater Detroit community. Young Hachig, true to his predecessors, learned his earliest folk songs at age 11, under the tutelage of the late Haig Krikorian, otherwise known as Zournaji Haig. His influence on young Hachig was immense. At Cass Technical High School Dr. Harry Begian was another mentor who had an active role in Hachig’s classical training.
“If you really want to know your roots you have to feel the land,” his father told him. For the longest time this sensation was missing in his life. Career and obligations held Hachig back from his cherished dream to “feel the land” of his forefathers. In the meantime he kept Armenian folk music alive, very conscious of the fact that it would be lost if not recorded. Like Gomidas Vartabed, he cherished it and stood in guard for its preservation. After he retired from 37 years of teaching, it was time to pack and take back melodies to where they belonged.
Hachig fulfilled his lifelong dream by playing at Ankugh (named after Dork Ankegh), his father’s and grandfather’s birthplace, attracting the attention of the whole village, including the birds who thronged over his head, as if they were listening to a familiar tune.
“It was very emotional and gratifying,” he said later, overwhelmed. “I felt like my family was watching as I completed my mission. Nothing could be as meaningful and humbling as playing my clarinet where my parents were born. I will definitely return. I recommend all American-born Armenians to return to ‘Nakhkin Hayastan’ (Historic Armenia).”
Hachig blew his clarinet to his heart’s content, in churches and on the road whether on the plains at the foot of Mount Ararat, at a dinner party in Elazig, or in the village of Jibin to an 80-year old blind man who still spoke Armenian. He put his soul in whether he played “Dele Yaman,” “Armenian Hoghuh,” or “Der Voghormia.”
Hachig attracted more than human ears to his tunes. It was reported that during his climb to the top of Hromgla fortress of Nersess Shnorhali fame, he and his companions took a short recess. The moment was opportune for Hachig to play his clarinet. He improvised a tune, coincidentally in the style that a shepherd would play, when he noticed mountain goats grazing nearby. As he started the dance melody, “Harput Havasi,” six or seven goats came rushing in and stood right in front of him. They stayed on with the group all the way up and down the hill. Had they become familiar with these tunes through the sap of tree barks?
Such poignant moments are the pleasant hazards of the adventuresome traveler. At times the trip may be long, the plumbing imperfect, the service slow, the conveniences primitive, if any, but the camaraderie of the road, and the unexpected turns it may lead to, are unparalleled.
“When I was playing on Aghtamar Island,” Hachig relates, “and I started a merry tune, I was gratified to see the locals gather and start dancing. It was a most memorable experience even though I really was playing for my grandchild. Her name is Tamar, you know,” he adds.
Yes, music is the universal language of communication where words fall short of their power in a multicultural environment.
Hachig’s sensitivity and attachment to his faith transpires through his actions. He admitted that, when he was alone at the Cathedral in Ani, he chose to have a private audition with the Lord. He requested the only fellow traveler present, Mary Ann Zamanigian from Providence, to videotape him as he played “Der Voghormia” and “Ee Verin Yerusaghem.”
“It was a unique religious experience for me,” Hachig reported. “I played, actually, for my other grandchild whose name is Ani. I brought back soil and stones for both Ani and Tamar. I’m sure when these young ladies, who are nine and ten respectively, get older they will appreciate the video of Grandpa playing for them.”
Asked what his expectations were when he set out on this journey, Hachig paused for a moment.
“I truly did not know what to expect, I only know that I wanted to offer homage to my parents in their birthplace,”, he said and then he added: “For each of the persons who traveled with me, this was a pilgrimage, not a trip. Without Armen (Aroyan) I certainly could not have realized my dream.”
Hachig did not lose his homeland. He carries it in his heart.