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An exhibition titled “Armenia: Impressions of a Civilization” opened at the Correr Museum in Venice on December 14. Perhaps the impression would be indescribable if Panorama.am had not been there on a business trip.

“Focus the cam on the upper part,” says a respectable clergyman to a cameraman, pointing to the ceiling.

While the cameraman is explaining that he needs illumination, I say “I will do it through my eyes.”

“It will be free of charge then, he smiles. Just look at these riches.”

I once again take a quick glance at the frescos on the ceiling, as if “filming” them, and understand that being on the run all day, it’s no use trying to fully absorb what I see.

I again come up to the painting Noah Descending from Ararat by Hovhannes Aivazovsky, which has also come to confirm the respect for the age of printing, as if (after St. Lazarus) by cousin’s right. I stop at the manuscripts brought from Matenadaran, feeling proud for their display in Italy and at the same time a little careful and worried for leaving them here.

A strange thing: for the first time I notice that sheets of paper are inserted under the pages for the manuscript pages to be even, like those of a book. Everyone comes up to take a look at the letters, Armenians can read them, while visitors of other nationalities cast an admiring glance at the miniatures and leave. I look at the uneven edges of the old pages put on new sheets of paper and my mind goes back across centuries, and I imagine the uneven path of this manuscript…

I walk around the halls also to ask for opinions. I see a man and a woman, both Armenians, standing at both ends of an illuminated table. They look at the alphabet placed on the table and “pronounce” the Armenian letters. I hear them saying:

“This is K.”
“No, this is G.”
“No, you say “jur” (“water”) while we say “chur.”
“Are you arguing? I ask them quietly.
There is a clergyman standing between them.
“Yes, and he is my husband,” the woman confirms both facts joyfully.
“I guess your argument will get hotter when you begin to argue about whether to say “bad” or “pat,” I say.

I leave them to think about the difference between “bad” and “pat” and approach Italy-based Armenians to ask for their opinions.

However, not opinions, but unanimous Admiration (very, very much), Pride (lifting up their eyes).

“Why is this exhibition so important to you?” (I have my own opinion, but it is not unnecessary, more, I am obliged to listen to the opinions of the attendees).

“I hear Italians, walking around the halls, saying surprisedly: they are Italy and Venice, while we are the first Christian state?”
This factor is in fact voiced first of all and named priority.

I remember the Apostolic-Catholic talks which emerged the day we visited the Pope and still remain here.

“What is the difference? A Christian is a Christian and an Armenian is an Armenian” – this was the message which various people – diplomats, seculars, clergymen - in various places were repeating. Probably I agree with them, at least as long as we are in Italy.

I look at people who have gathered in the halls beside the benches, speaking half English – half Western-Eastern Armenian, waiting for the Armenian President to listen to his speech. I am thinking the Diaspora is like Aivazovsky’s painting in Venice…

Something distant suddenly becomes dear, tangible and worthy of care.

“What makes you proud? I “press” next Armenian who is filled with admiration and pride.

“You know, I am proud internally when I take a look at all this, besides, the Italians know about Armenians, about Saint Lazarus, and they will now see and know who we are besides this.

Yes, representation is important, I say to myself. Who knows what these people face in a foreign country, far away from homeland, they in fact have to show what WE have, to show they are the masters of everything which is displayed here, everything cultural they have left in OUR homeland.

I ask an Armenian to interpret my question to a museum employee: I ask her about her impressions. She is impressed and interested. She is convinced this is an important event both for Armenians and Italians.

“Certainly it will boost tourism,” she says. “In these days, for sure, many Italians attending the exhibition “Armenia: Impressions of a Civilization” will decide to visit Armenia.”

Hmm, from “Armenia: Impressions of a Civilization” they will decide to see him who made the impression. But how can they see? This was the next question but I kept it to myself.

“The Italians also get surprised when they read historical facts on the walls, whereas they thought Armenia is only churches and cathedrals… Well, you see, the inscriptions on the walls say…

I have seen them. In Italian and in English. No word in Armenian. The problem was printing and fonts. Though I have not mentioned any shortcoming before, nevertheless, a thought repeatedly slips into my mind – “the irony of fate.” I don’t know whether it exists, but the warning comes.

(We need to raise this question in the Ministry of Culture).

The President and those present are invited to an Armenian sacred music concert in San Marco Cathedral of Venice.

Music fills the walls of the cathedral, as if flowing not only through our ears. It’s OK if I repeat it once again… it’s not excessive to say.

The next day Yerevan and Venice are declared sister cities.

We are at the airport. We are being checked thoroughly.

“Checking is the right thing,” a security officer says loudly, yet without correcting anyone.

“Writing is the right thing,” I am thinking and beginning to write on the plane already.

While the plane is approaching Armenia, the notion of community, which was obvious and understandable in Italy, begins to separate. The Armenian delegation and journalists are acquiring their names – minister, mayor, spokesman… TVs, Panorama.am.

No more Italian essays. Beginning tomorrow - dry journalism and journalistic routine; a question to the Minister of Culture; an interview with the Mayor of Yerevan…

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