Armenia’s ancient history as a pagan kingdom, stretching further back than the common era, is where the earliest signs of theatre appeared. Pagan Armenian kings would hire performers to praise them through songs of their glorious ancestors. The performers would perhaps have connected Vahagn, the god of war in Armenian paganism, to the deeds of the king and his ancestors. These performers were known as gussans, and became a part of any religious ritual whose (usually noble) host could afford it.
Archeologists have found evidence for the transition from pagan to Christian theater around the time of the formation of the Kingdom of Armenia, at 301 AD. Church-sponsored performances were similar to those in medieval Europe, recreating Biblical stories in monasteries.
In the early 18th century, a small island in Northern Italy became the home for an Armenian Catholic Monastery. Throughout the next century, the island of San Lazzaro became a center for published Armenian culture. The small Island not far from Venice acted as a major publishing house of literary, educational, and historical books. The Mekhitarist Order, the founders of the monastery, were heavily focused on researching Armenian literature. The congregation of monks pushed for a higher standard of learning than the Ottomans funded. They translated and published otherwise lost ancient Armenian texts, and developed from the ancient Classical Armenian a modern literary Armenian. The print of San Lazzaro focused mainly on religious text, and distributed the teachings of the Catholic monks in physical form to major cities and diasporas.
The congregation became a pathway to advanced interpretation of Armenian literature. Its academic following was filled with academics seeking a deeper grasp of the ancient language. Those less concerned on the Catholic entity as much as the literary coexisted with the religious monks. San Lazzaro’s inspired writers took literary Armenian into the genres that made developed languages compelling to readers.
Secular drama was a genre with a large following. It was sold in pamphlet form to Armenian populations close and far. Tales of powerful Armenian kingdoms likely captivated the populations under empirical control, who digested information in pamphlet form. Locally, history also became a major subject for dramatic purposes, told on stage through tragedies in theatrical form. Mekhaitarist drama was espeially popular among the large Armenian population of Constantinople, many of who visited the island and supported these performances. In pursuit of making an impact, the monastery sponsored an overseas dramatic branch, and from then on Constantinople became one of the major centers of Armenian theater.
Tbilisi is a Georgian city with a notable Armenian population. At the turn of the 19th century, Russia took over the previously Iranian-controlled city, and brought with it lenience from local authorities for performed plays. The theatre’s reception was popular, and since then Tbilisi has had active performances of ethnic Armenian theater. Gabriel Sundukian, who some argue made “the greatest literary impact on modern Armenian theater,” met the enthusiasm by Armenian communities for drama and published many plays. Tbilisi became another major center of 19th century Armenian theater.
Caucasia was long since under Ottoman rule at the beginning of the 20th century. The threat of an Armenian revolt for Russia lead to a general order of massacre known as the Armenian Genocide, where not only were the suspected pro-Russian Armenians punished, but any and all Armenians in Caucasia, mothers and children included. Any survivors were forced to flee Caucasia.
Millions of Armenians were affected. Any Armenian in the world with a relative in the area was forced to worry for months as his message went through. The impact of the genocide is articulated in the writings of Armenian authors who lived at the time. Levon Shant, a theater producer with an advanced theatrical education from Germany, was a theater manager at Paris at the time. The grief that struck him was carried into the characters.
Shant was born in Constantinople in 1869, a time when ethnic drama was blossoming at the hands of the Mekhiratists. His rise to notable playwriting came soon after his time in Europe, where he attained a higher education and Germany and later became a theater manager in Paris. It was in Paris that he directed several realistic plays on Nietzschean philosophy he had written in Germany as a graduate student. His real impact on Armenians, however, came a decade later with his decision to return to Caucasia.
The message of Shant’s plays changed with his change in career to a principal and teacher. Shant refrained from objective philosophy, a genre popular in Germany, and delved into historical drama. In 1913 Tbilisi, Shant’s Ancient Gods overwhelmed the audience. The play centered on the conflict between hedonism and the spirit, and how the spirit dies when a person lives only for satisfaction. His plays carried a heavy air for action, and spoke of the impact an individual is bound to strive for.
Armenians of the early 19th century had no lack for theater. It was readily available and taught in most schools. In Ottoman Armenia, where the government provided little funding for education, charity schools became common. Funds were gathered and used to provide the growing generation with a progressive curriculum similar to a western one. Students were introduced to drama, and even partook in theater productions in school.
The Armenians arriving in the United States were thus very likely to have had a formal education. At a time when most immigrants were illiterate, Armenians maintained a rate of literacy which allowed them to express their experiences in America in a literary and dramatic sense. Such expression saw its peak following the Armenian Genocide.
It was around this time, the 1920s, that ethnic Armenian drama groups began to surface. The Armenian Art Theater was by far the most prominent. The group performed in Armenian, but the material they presented was ethnically diverse. They performed plays such as Sherlock Holmes, Secrets of the Harem, The Robberts, The Devil, Trilby, The Trial of Mary Dugan, Topaz, Kean, Hamlet, Macbeth, and many more. They exposed working Armenians to a wide repertoire of plays. The group performed nationally, in Armenian Diasporas as far as California and Michigan, until Zarifian’s death in 1937.
Elia Kimatian, a student of Zarifian, continued Zarifian’s legacy just after the beginning of World War II. The performers he recruited and trained were mostly American-born Armenians. Kimatian, contrary to his Americanized performers, maintained a more ethnic approach to his plays than Zarifian, directing only two non-Armenian plays. He re-popularized the works of Levon Shant, and helped expose a generation of Armenian-Americans to their heritage.
Kimatian’s Theater Lovers Group continued performing until 1961, when it dispersed. Several Armenian drama groups performed over the next decade. The groups did not carry the influence of Zarifian’s Armenian Art Theater, or Kimatian’s Theater Lovers Group, but displayed the inevitably of Armenian drama, which constantly reveals itself in every generation.
The 1970s became a second renaissance for Armenian drama. Religious influence at the behest of the Diocese of the Armenian Church funded the creation of the Diocesan Drama Group. At the hands of this group Armenian theater assimilated. Many plays were translated to English. For the first time, the themes of ethnic Armenian drama became accessible to English audiences. The production of William Saroyan’s Hello, Out There and Armenians in 1974 were the first of many Armenian plays performed in English.
Armenian theater at this time expressed the hearts of Armenians in their characters. This was one of the appeals to the audiences, who all felt a bond to their ancient heritage. The characters would encourage Armenians of any religion to unite, as in Saroyan’s Armenians, a play whose characters included priests from the various types of Armenian Christianity, to non-Christian Armenians who were accepted into a community by one priest, only to have to defend their action against another priest who questioned this decision. In the end, the priests explored their heart to find a common ground in their heritage. The play promoted empathy through the most simple similarities of human nature.
William Saroyan is regarded as a prominent author of modern Armenian drama. His early life is a tribute to the hard road ahead of any ambitious writer. Born in Fresno, California, he grew up without a father, who passed when he was just three. He and his siblings temporarily relocated to an orphanage until his widowed mother could raise enough money to provide for them. The early years of Saroyan’s life became a grave and dim memory he would later express in his works. Saroyan’s father, who was an unpublished writer, became a source of motivation and encouragement. Saroyan dreamed of succeeding for the sake of his father.
The reuniting of Saroyan and his siblings with his mother occurred along with the arrival of his maternal grandmother. Saroyan’s grandma was a formidable figure, an ethnic Armenian who shared with him countless stories of heritage, strengthening the young boy’s spirit. He would later refer to his grandmother many times, even using her personality for several of his characters.
Saroyan’s years as an adolescent were heavily influenced by his ethnic personality. Schoolmates regarded him as too much of an immigrant. Saroyan was also bored with the slow and predictable curriculum of western schooling. When he was twelve, Saroyan stumbled into Guy de Maupassan’s story “The Bell.” The effect of Maupassan’s short story was one of the early factors contributing to Saroyan’s future unorthodox form for writing short stories. Twelve years old, spending days in Freno’s public library, Saroyan dreamt of becoming a writer.
Ambition lead Saroyan, at eighteen years old, to travel to New York in pursuit of his dream. He had initially hoped, even expected, a literary miracle. He was naïve and young, and also unlucky. His suitcase, which contained all his money, was mistakenly sent to New Orleans. A homesick Saroyan returned to California six months later.
The trip to New York was a sobering journey for Saroyan. It became clear to him upon arriving in California that his literary discovery was going to be a lengthy affair. He began working dead-end jobs. His dream of becoming a writer, however, was stamped into his conscious. He abandoned any thought of a different career, and focused heavily on his work.
Now in his middle twenties, Saroyan felt that he getting nowhere. His few publications resulted in little pay and even less attention. His impatience emboldened him to do something which only a true genius could manage. Saroyan wrote to the editors of Story, a national magazine, that he would send them one newly written story every day for a month. Saroyan was able to do so. His process of writing began with a random starting point, which he expanded and built on until he had a fine short story. Story and its editors were impressed and demanded he keep them coming. Saroyan defined this moment as his acceptance as a writer.
His sudden leap to fame, along with his unorthodox style of writing, which broke or disregarded rules to an unprecedented degree, was resented by critics such as Ernest Hemingway and James Thurber. Faced with many criticisms, Saroyan wrote in 1940:
“I acknowledge the partial truth and validity of every charge brought against my work, against myself personally, and against my methods of making my work public. What is lacking in their criticism is the fullness and humanity of understanding which operates in myself, in my work, and in my regard for others. Consequently, it is difficult for them to make sense in themselves that which is complicated and unusual for them. What should enlarge them because of its understanding, drives them more completely behind the fort of their own limitations.”
His failure to be accepted by critics was frequently commented on. Nona Balakian, who analyzed Saroyan’s work and relationship with critics, asserts he was frequently misunderstood or belittled. Saroyan didn’t get past high school, and as a result his writing carried little social or intellectual pretension. His form came from the many hours he spent in the library, and the creative capacity of his imagination.
For this same reason, his following was tremendous. Reading Saroyan can take a reader far into his creative mind, but requires patience and understanding. Even if critics usually didn’t understand Saroyan, his readers did. His work was a product of his experiences, which were themselves a reflection of his early life and hardships.
His transition to playwriting came with his rise to the mainstream. He lived comfortably for once, spending most of his time writing. The time not spent on writing went to his wife and daughter, but also on a vice. Saroyan had gambled since his early teens, and his new wealth brought out the gambler in him more often. He had a compulsion to get rid of money as fast as he would earn it. He later attributes this as one of the reasons his marriage failed. His last years were spent less on writing and more on reviving unpublished texts he wrote in his younger years.