As a PhD student in the Department of Armenian Studies at Pázmány Péter Catholic University, could you share your academic and professional background? How did you first become involved in the field of photography and religion?

I will start from the very beginning by mentioning my Bachelor’s education, which I owe very much to, gained from the Art History and Theory department of Yerevan State University's (YSU). Of course, it was primarily focused on Armenian Art, but we had a comprehensive program of global art history. This is when I got fascinated by Persian/Iranian photography and defended my BA diploma on Shadi Ghadirian’s photography. After one year of my Master’s at YSU, I continued my education in the graduate program of the freshly established Department of Armenian Studies in the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences at PPCU. Though already involved in a History programme, here I continued my passion for the art of photography, deepening my analysis from historical and diasporic perspectives. Initially, religion was not at the core of interests. Neither is it now, to be honest. In fact, it came with the topic of Jerusalem and its history, because when we speak about Jerusalem we cannot simply avoid talking about religion.

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the Hungarian Academy of Fine Arts is hosting a historical photography exhibition. How did this project come together?

Yes, I am pretty sure it was one of the rare occasions in the history of the Hungarian Fine Arts University (MKE). It was a successful collaboration between the MKE, the Armenian Studies Department of PPCU, and the Leibniz Institute for the History and Culture of Eastern Europe (GWZO). The role of the head of the Armenian Studies Department Dr. Bálint Kovács in bridging these institutions is pivotal.

For our readers who may not be familiar with the topic, could you provide a summary of the history of the Jerusalem Armenian diaspora?

The earliest connection of the Armenians to Palestine dates back to their adoption of Christianity in 301 A.D. with the arrival of Armenian pilgrims in Jerusalem shortly after. Two manuscripts containing a report compiled by an Armenian monk named Anastase (Haroutiun) mention seventy Armenian monasteries in Palestine in the seventh century. Unfortunately, many of them did not survive the long historical turmoil. During the expansion of the Islamic Empire, crusader invasions, and Muslim counterattacks, Armenians managed to protect their social structures and continue living in a quarter in the southwestern corner of the Old City. 

The Oldy City of Jerusalem consists of four quarters-Latin, Muslim, Jewish and Armenian. In its entirety, the Armenian Quarter is occupied by the Armenian Monastery of Saint James. Though belonging to the church, the residences for the lay community can be found inside the quarter as well. One gets fascinated by the interior of the Saint James church, the Helen and Edward Mardigian Museum, the Srpots Tarkmanchats (Holy Translators) school, and the Church of Holy Archangels.

Notably, the Armenian population in Jerusalem and Palestine increased in number after the Armenian Genocide carried out by the Young Turks mainly in Western Armenia called also Eastern Anatolia from 1909 to 1915. Besides the Orthodox (Apostolic) community members, there is also a small community of Catholic Armenians residing near Via Dolorosa. Over the years the number of the residents of the Armenian community fluctuated due to the historical instability in the region.

The exhibition text mentions three photographers who represent a master-apprentice tradition: Yessayi Garabedian, Garabed Krikorian, and Khalil Raad. Could you share both their collective and individual stories?

As much as we know, Yessayi Garabedian, the Armenian patriarch of the Saint James Convent established the first local photographic practice in the 1860s. He also trained young people in the art of photography. One of his apprentices, Garabed Krikorian (1847-1920), who was a seminarian, meaning was on his way to becoming a church servant, was expelled from the church because he fell in love with a Lutheran girl. Garabed Krikorian continued doing photography and in the 1880s became the owner of the first photographic studio in Jerusalem, located just outside Jaffa Gate. In turn, Krikorian’s student, Khalil Raad, who had Lebanese roots, later became  his competitor, opening his own studio right in front of the Krikorian studio. Raad is regarded as the first Arab photographer in Palestine. Their rivalry ended when Krikorian’s son, Johannes, married Raad’s niece, Najla, after which they agreed to divide their work—Krikorian focused on portraits, while Raad captured urban and landscape. After photographing the Prussian King Wilhelm II’s visit to the Holy Land in 1898, Krikorian adopted the title "Königl. Preuss. Hof-Photograph" (Royal Prussian Court Photographer) as his logo and back-stamp. Garabed’s son, Johannes Krikorian, who studied photography in Germany, took over his father’s studio in 1913, running it until 1948.   As we can see the rivalry ends with the marriage of the two members of Krikorian and Raad families. Love always triumphs as they say… We can say that Raad’s photographs chronicled key moments in Palestinian history, spanning the Ottoman era and World War I. During the war, he served as the official photographer for the Ottoman army in Jerusalem, a lesser-known part of his career that he may have downplayed after the British took control of Palestine. He also captured the British takeover of Jerusalem and, over time, documented public acts of resistance against British rule, offering valuable insight into a crucial period of Jerusalem’s and Palestine’s history. 

How were their images preserved and archived? What information can we gather about the technical apparatuses they employed? What can you tell us about the current condition of these archives in relation to preserving this fragile visual legacy?

As you can see in the exhibition the digital reproductions of the images were gathered from different parts of the world: the Armenian General Benevolent Union's (AGBU) Nubar Library, Paris; the Armenian Genocide Museum-Institute, Yerevan; the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.; the Project Save Photograph Archive, Boston; the Gulbenkian Archives, Lisbon; and the Archive of the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem. The exhibition “Capturing Eternity: Jerusalem Armenian Photography in the 19th and 20th Centuries” was a glimpse of the enormous cultural and historical heritage the Armenians had and still possess in the Holy Land. The digital reproductions of photographs in the exhibition brought a remarkable connection between archives and diaspora. We can see how the collective memory of people can be so scattered yet have the power to be united and to unite people in another geographical space.

As I could see during the archival research, the archives’ approaches towards preserving the photographs vary. For example, the stereographs created by Yessayi Garabedian were preserved and restored from the partially damaged original negatives. Now digitized, they are part of the extensive photo collection in the Saint James’ Patriarchal archive, which includes both physical and digital materials ready for dedicated researchers to explore. In contrast, the photographs housed in the Library of Congress have been carefully catalogued in their digital form in their webpage. Included in major collections such as the American Colony, H.C. White Co. Publishers, and Underwood & Underwood Publishers, these images however also lack information of who is in a photograph or by who it was taken. So, in general, the archives have the material and do their best to provide all the necessary information, but still lack guidance in this.

All religions have unique and often quite complex and profound perspectives on images—icons and idols. Did these photographers and their contemporaries have a particular view on images and photography in relation to their faiths?

This is an interesting question, yet with a complex answer. In terms of Yessayi Garabedian, we can look into the short autobiography he left telling about his endeavours of mastering the art of photography and being willing to capture the Holy Sites. He writes "I studied the craft of photography in order to make Holy Sites known to the Armenian Nation through photographic images, with the intimate motive of eventually being able to make the ancient sites of all of Armenia known to the whole of the Nation, which is a labour of patriotism, truly only as a duty to the masses." We can assume that already in the 1850s, Garabedian understood the power of photography in shaping collective memory. Garabed Krikorian and Khalil Ra’ad were the second generation of photographers who kind of institutionalized the craft of photography by opening studios. While the notion of photographing the Biblical sites was still relevant for them, they provided the service of taking studio portraits for anyone. In this sense, I would reconsider thinking they had a specific mindset in bringing their profession and faith together. One important thing is the historical context: together with Greeks and Western settlers, Armenians were among the first to practice photography and were successful in the Ottoman Empire because while there was a portrait tradition in royal circles, the Islamic faith frowned on the portrayal of the human body and Muslims were unwilling to be shot. As an example of a successful and pioneering photography business, it is worth mentioning the Abdullah brothers: Viçen Abdullahyan (1820–1902), Hovsep Abdullahyan (1830–1908), and Kevork Abdullahyan (1839–1918) of Armenian descent who were declared court photographers by Sultan Abdulaziz. Beyond the Ottoman Empire, some other major Armenian photographers are Gabriel Lekegian in Egypt, Antoin Sevruguin in Persia, Grigor Ter-Ghevondiants in Georgia, and Davit Rostomyan in Baku.

Given the historical and cultural significance of the Armenian community in Jerusalem, how do you think the cultural exchange between Armenian photographers and other artistic traditions in the region influenced their work? Are there specific examples of this interplay?

The region's diversity encouraged Armenian photographers to document not just the Armenian community's rituals and traditions, but also the wider cultural and religious activities of Jerusalem's other communities. The ability to look and comprehend while collaborating provided a more comprehensive view of life in the city. We should not forget that Jerusalem mainly encompasses three different religions: Christian, Muslim, and Jewish. Of course, one can’t simply unsee the other one when there. The cultural traditions of each religion one way or another appear in each other. One example is the art of a photographer whose photographs we did not include in our exhibition, but who did appear in a group photograph of the Near East Relief’s orphanage in Nazareth. His name was Elia Kahvedjian. He was a survivor of the Armenian Genocide who opened his photographic studio in 1930. The Elia photo still exists and is run by his grandson. In Elia Kahvedjian’s photographs, we find not only the beauty of the urban landscapes of Jerusalem but also the peace that existed between different people with different faiths.

In your opinion, what is the most significant aspect of these images and their relevance to the Armenian community and Jerusalem today?

Generally speaking, Jerusalem Armenian photography including the photographs displayed in the exhibition are a testimony of Armenians’ strong agency and interaction with different cultures in the Holy City. The example of Yessayi Garabedian is fascinating in a way that while a religious leader himself, something presupposing a very conservative lifestyle, he anticipated modern technology by practicing photography. Charles Bierstadt's portrait of him, featured in our exhibition, creates an immersive and captivating atmosphere. Here, a patriarch who practiced and taught photography stands before the lens of a Western photographer—a striking portrayal that uniquely embodies authority, agency, continuity, and intercultural exchange. It is rare to find another image so rich in layered meanings.

The Armenian diaspora in Jerusalem as the oldest global Armenian diaspora within and beyond the Armenian Quarter stands as a testimony of strength and resilience. Many dark clouds have passed over the monastery, but it has managed to stand still. Jerusalem Armenian photography this way is the diasporic image of the transformative power of continuity of Armenians in the Holy Land capturing eternity in each frame.