Against displacement and colonization, Ara Oshagan is reclaiming Armenian futures

February 3, 2022

Our #ArmenianAmericanSpotlight series highlights
the work of community heroes, organizers, advocates, and artists in the U.S. Armenian community.

Ara Oshagan is an Armenian multi-disciplinary and intersectional artist working in photography, collage, archive, film, book and installation art. He is a documentarian and as well as conceptual artist and vectored by his own personal history. Born in Beirut, Lebanon, he is interested in exploring diasporic identity, sites, spaces and communities that have embedded memory and histories of disruption, legacies of violence and displacement. A descendant of families who were decimated and exiled from their indigenous lands by the Armenian Genocide in 1915, he lives in diaspora in Los Angeles. His identity is a neural network made up of Armenian/American /Arabic/French identities which are in constant harmony and contention.

Much of his research and work is about the sensibility and structure associated with this way of life. His own familial and personal history is deeply connected to the communities he photographs and engages in his artistic practice. His books include Father Land, Mirror, and displaced. His work has been featured in LA Times, LA Weekly, NPR’s Morning Edition, Hyperallergic, Zeke Magazine, Mother Jones and the London Times Literary Supplement. As part of our #ArmenianAmericanSpotlight series, Armenian America sat down with Ara Oshagan to talk about Armenian futurity, his childhood, and the beauty in the messiness and ambiguity of diaspora. 

Oshagan’s latest exhibition is, How The World Might Be, a solo show featuring four series/projects, a film and an installation that weave together the artist’s interests in diasporic possibility, legacies of dispossession, and (un)imagined futures. The exhibition is running from Friday, January 7th through Saturday, February 5th, 2022 at Tufenkian Fine Arts. You can join the In-person Artist Closing Reception on February 5, 2 - 6 pm. 

Sophia Armen, Armenian America: Thank you so much for speaking with us today. So to start—What is your Armenian identity? How would you define it? Where did you grow up? And how do you view its impact on you and your work? 

Ara Oshagan: So my view of my own identity has changed significantly over time. But I would like to speak about where I am now in terms of how I see myself. I was born in Beirut. Despite the fact that I was in an Arab country, I didn't know any Arabic, which is kind of an interesting fact. I knew French, I grew up in an Armenian school, where we were taught French and French culture was very much part of our upbringing– in our mental space. But even though I didn't speak Arabic, Arabic culture, the way of life also is definitely part of me, which I didn't see for many years. I always thought it wasn't, but now I see that the way, especially Lebanese, the way they speak, the way they move, the way they react to things, you know, it's part of who I am.

SA: So, Lebanon is in you.

Ara Oshagan, Shushi #8, 2021

AO: Yeah, it is. And I think that. And so there is this sort of Armenian national narrative, che, you're just only Armenian and you're not influenced by other things. You need to be just Armenian. So there is that narrative that is kind of our national narrative, that is kind of a false narrative, in my opinion. That is imposed on us. And, you know, we tend to live in that space. If you grow up with that kind of attitude, until you are able to see a wider view of things.

SA: Right. Everybody always wants one dimensional stories but none of us are that. And then on top of that then what does that mean in a U.S. context, what does that look like to you? 

AO: Right. Then I came to the United States when I was 10 and we lived in completely these white American places. Like we didn't come straight to LA, we lived in Wisconsin and lived in Tennessee.

SA: Yes I love it, Armenians are everywhere and make up so much history in this country. How do you think these spaces impacted you and shaped you? Even culturally?

AO: I have all these southern slang that I use on my kids. So, American culture–whatever that means– also became part of who I am. I am also American. So all these, all these kinds of identities are part of me. There's a certain openness, you know, I got from [Wisconsin and Tennessee] and at the same time a certain marginalization, right? Because of that experience of migrating to a new place, not being completely accepted.

SA: Were there any other Armenians or even Lebanese folks around then?

AO: Very few. Very few. My friends were Nepalese and Pakistani kids. And I used to play soccer because nobody played soccer–only the marginalized kids. Back then.

SA: Oh yeah. Soccer connects. I love it. Haha amen.

AO: So yeah, that sort of margin, and that marginalization became part of who I am in the larger story. And that emerged also when I started moving towards literature. First I wanted to do literature, and then I moved into visual arts. That was the kind of work that I wanted to do–to speak about these kinds of communities. I see myself, my identity now as multi-valiant, and non-hierarchical in that sense that any one time I could be Lebanese, Armenian, American and these things always are there. They're always present. And, and it's not one or the other, it's all at the same time. And any one could be fully present at any one time. And the movement between, the flux, is where that identity is articulated in this very ambiguous, ambiguous way, really. Because it is all very ambiguous.

Ara Oshagan, The Beirut Memory Project 18, 2018-2021

Ambiguity is part of it, part of the very fabric of the diaspora. Like sand going through your fingers. Nothing is very constant. Nothing is very stable in that sense. That ambiguity, it is not a negative space. So that's the other part of the national narrative besides this attitude of you should be Armenian, is that diaspora is, is kind of a negative space for living in a singular culture. I would say just the exact opposite. It's an ambiguous space. It's a positive space. It's a space for creativity. This is a space where you can connect these different things and something new can come out of it. A tremendous amount of creativity comes out of the diaspora. There is possibility in the diasporic

SA: It's really interesting. Because even I think when you're saying sand, that it's something that's not fixed. I just feel so much movement in that. And you know, that's a huge part of when you say the word “displaced” in your work. That Armenians navigate. And I love the idea of insisting on all of it, and not any type of either binary or clash.

AO: They're not in binary. They're not in conflict. I think we have to get away from that. I think I'm at a place now where it's all interconnected. It's like a neural network of identities and cultures are all in a kind of constellation, a certain configuration in your self. Perhaps you are not fully aware it yourself but they are all there–not vying for position but all there co-existing.

Ara Oshagan at Tufenkian Arts Gallery, 2022

Like a network that lights up in these different places, in different ways. And they sort of support each other. This is something we all do [in diaspora]. I think we think in a decentralized way. Maybe, even, you can take that one step further. We are ourselves decentralized, our identity is decentralized. And we negotiate this ambiguous space often perhaps without realizing we are in that negotiation–its so natural for us. This affords us new ways of thinking and creating.

SA: Why do you feel like you've gravitated towards the arts as the way to express these ideas? Because people do this in a variety of different ways in the struggle. But why for you, has it been art?

AO: So I always wanted to be a writer. So my father's a writer, my grandfather was a writer and growing up in that kind of literary environment gives you this kind of momentum to move forward. And in a sense you think, okay, maybe I'm really attracted to that. I wanted to be a writer for a long time. But it wasn't really working for me for a number of years.

And then I wanted to, for some reason, I wanted to have these photos and text put together. I was thinking about that and I asked my friend to take pictures and I didn't like them [laughs] so I took them myself and then I started into photography. It was really very natural for me. And so that's one of the things that I didn't realize until later is [your medium] is about your character and who you are.

SA: The language of your heart.

AO: Your heart and your being has to kind of mesh in the work you're doing. And I was always really restless. Really restless and so in that way photography was completely right. Where you're constantly moving, constantly talking. It's like completely in flux, while writing is the exact opposite. You sit, it's very concrete. You don't move for hours, and then you get a paragraph. And so then I dove into visual arts fully– photography, documentary photography, first, with a number of projects. And so now I have branched out into these other types of visual art works. You also need to find the proper medium for the message, the articulation you are looking for, you are seeking.

Artsakh Scroll #3, 2021

SA: Exactly, and speaking of messages. How do you view Armenian issues or Armenian-American issues as issues of social justice and global justice? Because they appear this way so often in your work.

AO: I mean, all our issues are social justice issues, right? The displacement that we've experienced personally myself and collectively, not just from [the genocide] but Lebanese Armenians, Syrian Armenians, Iranian Armenians, more displacements. The constant displacement that we experience, the multigenerational trauma. We think about post-memory where the traumatic memories of previous generations are so much part of you that you think they are your own. But with us, the trauma hasn't ended. So that every new generation has to go through a new set of post memories, memory traumas that continue, there is no “post” for us. But it is all these things, it's the war in Armenia recently, the colonization and the white phosphorus. They are all related to each other and issues of global justice.

SA: Right, exactly. 

AO: But in my experience we have not done a good enough job in connecting them to larger narratives in the world. Let me tell you a story. We had an exhibition of historical Armenian Genocide photos at the Library, in our gallery, ReflectSpace And while we were putting them up a Black man came up to me and said, "are you the curator?" And I said "Yes, yes I am." And he said, "your story and our story is the same story." He saw the transatlantic crossing and these similarities. And it was a really important moment for me, I was already moving in that direction but it pushed me more. But you know the mainstream narratives in the [community] won't say that. They won't try to bring up the history of slavery for example. They try to put us in a box with no outside influence. I know it comes from this history of trying to hold on, and preserve. But it cuts us off from the world

SA: I have a lot to say on this.. But yes, sure, then you stop connections. It also means, then, we don't open up in the same way to possibilities of freedom.

AO: Right. We don't open up, we don't connect, we don't understand. But then we're not diasporic then. To be diasporic is to be open. To be completely open to these other influences and have these cultures within you and not in conflict. So they would think if I said I was partially American, that that is conflicting. But I think it is the exact opposite. What do you think?

SA: Well there is a lot to say..but I will say systems reward you for cutting yourself off from other people, from other communities. In the U.S. especially they don't want us to work together. They don't want us to make connections to each other. Because it would mean changing how this society functions too or reckoning with those histories of chattel slavery, genocide, etc., There's also just straight up racism. And complicity. And also another dimensions is, I don't think it's a coincidence that oppressed peoples often are siloed. And it is not just in the Armenian community. Systems work hard to keep people apart. And they tell people to fight each other. This is the American project: invest in white supremacy, keep people fighting for crumbs, dehumanize Black and Native people, the American project is built on this and conscripts people into this system. We have to actively reject this every single day and not just in word but in action.

AO: Yeah and I have learned a lot from other communities too. I recently worked with some Asian American communities, with Korean curators. And we did a piece about Koreans and colonization by Japan. And the history of trauma, and post-memory. There were so many atrocities and I was making and seeing those connections.

SA: Wonderful we will have to check it out! Our final questions, what were your major influences?

AO: So my biggest emotional influence I would say is my father. How he connected and what he made, irrespective of what people thought. He was very controversial that way. To be in your time and to make work that reflects that. That is what he taught me. I would say, the influence he had on me was not to do it for an audience, but to do for yourself and what you think is the commitment to you have for whatever content, whatever history, whatever narrative, whatever medium that you are working with and whatever your understanding of that medium is and nota need for acceptance. He was much more controversial than I am. I'm not controversial.

SA: [laughs] Your work is challenging, though.  

AO: Okay, okay. Thank you. I do the thing that I think that I need to do irrespective of if people are gonna really accept it or not.

SA: Are you inspired to do that by others? Who are two contemporary artists you would say that you really love or resonate with, or maybe influence your current work in some way? 

AO: There's so many. There’s probably two photographers that there approach is really important for me. One of them is a French photographer. His name is Gilles Peress. I would say he did the first sort of postmodern kind of photography book. And so, he was a big influence on me. And then there's a Greek photographer. His name is Nikos Economopoulos and he was one of the first people to photograph the larger Aegean, Eastern Europe, the Mediterranean, Turkey and Greece, and that area of the world in a very authentic, in a very connected way because he was from that area.

So I hope that I'm sort of doing the same thing, being true to the narrative, the history, but also creating forms that can articulate that history in a contemporary way. I don't like that word contemporary. I don't know what that word means. [laughs] yeah. But, the today, your times. But yes, the form is really important. How you present the work. First, you have the content, but how you present it is as important. 

Oshagan with his exhibition “How the World Might Be” at Tufenkian Arts on view January 7- February 5, 2022 (Photo: Armen)

SA: Given these lessons you have learned, what would be some advice you have for future Armenian artists and visionaries? 

AO: Actually in this context, I should also mention when I was going to school, I was very active. I became very, very politicized, very left wing. Read a lot of Marx and Engels. And I actually worked with like, you know, the Committee in Solidarity with the People of El Salvador, anit-apartheid groups, and groups like that. So I kind of did that connectivity way back when, but then the issues brought to the mainstream by Armenian terrorism were very, very much in the forefront of our thinking. And of course the denial was such a big issue for us, the genocide denial. So that became the overriding issue that I really focused on in terms of my activism in school and immediately afterwards.

But it was always in the arts and culture arena. We published magazines and newspapers, tried to think about our place in the world. And then after that still very active in the community. And then all the work that I did starting with genocide survivor portraits and all my work with diasporan communities here in LA and Beirut. So it does come from a very leftist or activist source.

And in terms of wisdom to share to the next generation. Cross those boundaries. Make those connections. Speak about the similarity of narratives. Speak about the global issues that all people have to work with. Struggle against governments that are erasing our history, killing us and denying whatever truth that we may have. Do not be siloed.