fig 13. Malkasian Family
Dikranagert, Ottoman Empire, 1911.

fig 14. Two sisters, Guldodo Tufenkjian Kahrimanian and Loosaper Tufenkjian Sahagian, standing left and right respectively beside their husbands and the Kahrimanian children,
Yosgat, Ottoman Empire, 1902

fig 15. Hovaness and Guldodo Kahrimanian, seated, with their children,
Philadelphia, c. 1918.

fig 16. Armenian community leaders being taken to prison under armed Turkish guard,
Kharpert, Armenia, Ottoman Empire.

fig 17. Armenian orphans
Sida Orphanage, Beirut, Lebanon, c. 1920.
Their traumatic experienced is expressed by their body language: some stand by themselves, others relate closely to each other.

fig 18. Armenian women, possibly refugees in a camp in Aleppo or Beirut,
c. 1920.

fig 19. Tavajian Brothers rug store,
Worcester, Mass., c. 1930.

fig 20. Mihran "John" Tufenkjian, on the roof of Tufenkjian & Co., Oriental Rugs, spotting a rug in an attempt to remove a stain,
Worcester, Mass, June 1933.

fig 21. Hagop Bogigian & Co., Oriental Rugs,
corner of Beacon and Park Streets, Boston, Mass, c. 1895.

fig 22. Boston-area rug store,
c. 1918. These men all emigrated from Armudan, a town near Erzinjan in the Ottoman Empire

fig 23. The family of Nouritza and Garabed (seated center) Telfeyan,
Constantinople, 1902.

fig 24. Levon Davidian, standing center without a hat, proprietor of a rug store, Sultanabad, Persia, c. 1924. The men without hats are Armenians; the men with hats are Persians.

Many of the photographs on display in "Armenian Rugs: Fabric of a Culture" are from the collection of Project SAVE, a unique organization dedicated to preserving the Armenian heritage through photographic documentation. The process of collecting and identifying these photographs has given Ruth Thomasian, founder and director of Project SAVE, the opportunity to explore her Armenian heritage and gain insight into what it means to be an Armenian American. In the photo essay below, Ms. Thomasian explains how she developed the concept of Project SAVE and shares the wealth of knowledge about Armenian lifestyles that she has gathered in documenting the photographs.

Just as rugs are part of the fabric of Armenian culture, so too are photographs, provided they are documented as thoroughly as possible. Through the process of oral history, which includes listening to people as they talk about their friends and relatives in the photograph and asking appropriate questions, we can gain insight into the lifestyles of a former time and place. This information is particularly precious to Armenians because we have lost our homeland and the ability to connect with the people of our past.

As a child growing up in the 1950s and 1960s in Belmont, Massachusetts, I was separated from the Armenian heritage of my father and his family by a number of factors. My grandmother, who came to the United States in 1904, died before I was born, and although my grandfather, who immigrated in 1892, lived through my seventh year, I remember only a few things about him. I never attended an Armenian church or Saturday Armenian school. Before I was born, my father changed our name from Tovmassian to Thomasian in an effort to make it easier to spell and pronounce. When I was two years old, he went one step further and completely anglicized our name to Thomason. No one ever misspelled or mispronounced Thomason, but without the Ian" ending (which in Armenian means "son of") no one could recognize it as an Armenian name either. As I grew up, the most tangible identification I had with my Armenian background was the variety of Armenian foods prepared by my mother who is of German and Yankee descent.

Though I have always loved history and always wanted to know about my Armenian background, it wasn't until I became involved in an Armenian drama group in New York City that I found the impetus to seek my roots. I was to costume a play set in Tiflis, Georgia (Transcaucasia) at the turn of the century. I began my research at the New York Public Library Picture Collection where designers of all sorts seek visual information. The two folders I found labeled "Armenia" contained prints of rather fanciful people of the Middle Ages but nothing about people at the turn of the century. Next, I talked with several people who had been born in Tiflis and knew the Armenian lifestyle. They told me that Armenians in Tiflis dressed just like Europeans, but they couldn't describe specific details that would reveal the nuances of Armenian attire.

In thinking about where I could find visual information, I remembered the box of photographs in the attic at home with multiple copies of studio portraits of my father and his family from the early 1900s. There were no old-country photographs, but my hunch was that other Armenian-American families had photographs from the homeland tucked away in their attics and basements. Wouldn't it be wonderful, I thought, if I could have access to such photographs, document them, and use copies for my research?

In 1975 I formally launched Project SAVE. My original mission was to collect and document photographs that showed Armenians in their typical old-country attire.

Within three years I had broadened the scope to include all photographs of Armenians living in Armenia, the United States, and elsewhere. It had not taken long to realize that photographs and oral history combine to create a powerful source of social history.

In 1981 I left New York City and moved back to the Boston area. Now Project SAVE is a nonprofit, tax-exempt corporation in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts with its office in Watertown right in the heart of the second largest Armenian-American community in the United States. In addition to collecting and documenting photographs of Armenian people, we emphasize the importance of sharing the photographic images and information with the public through exhibitions, slide lectures, films, and publications.

Project SAVE's photographs cover a wide range of subjects including people, places, families, religion, occupations, education, recreation, the military, the Genocide, immigrants, and refugees. The oldest image in the collection is a copy of a daguerreotype of an Armenian bride in Azerbaidjan in the 1850s. Our most recent images feature family reunions which are interesting to compare with family groups from the old country.

Some of our photographs include oriental rugs as a backdrop or a ground cover. Photographers used carpets to cover the bare earth and create the impression of an interior space, and when both the backdrop and the ground cover extend beyond the edge of the photograph, the impression is convincing.

Often, however, the rug is short and clues such as stones or roots reveal the outdoor setting of the photograph. Sometimes the backdrop is not wide enough (see photo # 13), exposing the stones of a wall or a window or door with someone looking out. Although flash powder was in use in the United States by the 1880s, Project SAVE's photographs indicate that in the Old World Armenian photographers depended on the sun as their principal source of light through 1915, especially in the towns and villages of eastern Anatolia (Asia Minor).

Sometimes there is little or no documentation available on the subjects in a photograph. For photo #13 we know the place and the date: Dikranagert, 1911. We also know that the little girl was Toontoush Malkasian (Tarzian), who had died before her husband shared the photograph with Project SAVE. Although we have no other specific information, the image is still a powerful statement, not only in terms of visual impact but also in terms of what it says about family relationships and a culture in trouble.

To gain these additional insights, some things we must assume. For instance, the people probably represent three generations: parents seated on either side, their daughters or daughters-in-law standing in the back, and their grandchildren--the boy and Toontoush--in the front. Now we can ask questions. Why are the elders seated at the sides instead of in the center as protocol would require? Where are the men of the second generation, brothers or husbands of the four standing women? Why is the boy seated in the center propped up like a prince wearing a watch fob and western-style shoes?

Knowledge of the history of the times would suggest a number of possibilities for the absence of second-generation men. They may be merchants or laborers employed in some Middle Eastern city; they may be serving in the Turkish army; or they may have emigrated from Dikranagert to the United States. All are within the realm of possibility for the Armenians of Dikranagert in 1911.

If the second-generation men are unlikely to return home, the old man must be greatly concerned about who will lead the family when he dies. The fact that the boy is seated where the old man should be and has assumed a posture of power suggests that he is being groomed to head the family. His pose is in marked contrast to that of Toontoush, whose body language speaks of fear and uncertainty.

Photographers preserved the image of Armenian families throughout the Ottoman Empire. In 1902 the Kahrimanian family of Yosgat was photographed along with Mrs. Kahrimanian's sister and brother-in-law (see photo #14). Sixteen years later the Kahrimanian family had its photograph taken in Philadelphia shortly after arriving in the United States (see photo #15). Side by side, these old-country / new-country images tell so much.

The outward appearance of assimilation is striking as the clothing changes from a mix of Turkish (the fez) and European (lapelled jackets and vests for the men, and Victorian dresses for the women) to American styles of the times. In Yosgat each sister stands next to and slightly behind her seated husband framing the photograph, whereas in the Philadelphia image Mrs. Kahrimanian sits with her husband, and all three of their children stand. Perhaps you will note other differences and perhaps some similarities.

1915 was the culmination of more than two decades of sporadic massacres implemented by the Ottoman authorities against the Armenians. Photo #16 is one of the few existing photographs that illustrate the actual events. Said to be taken by a German businessman waylaid by illness in Kharpert, it shows armed Turkish guards taking the leaders of the Armenian community to the prison in Mezereh. Anticipating torture and death at the hands of their Turkish captors, the Armenians took their own lives by setting fire to the prison.

The next ten years brought misery to every Armenian, either through first-hand experience with death and destruction in the Ottoman Empire or from the news that loved ones had suffered or been killed. Orphanages and refugee camps abounded in the Middle East to accommodate those without family and home (see photo #17). Most of the camps housed women and children because the men had been separated from their families and killed in 1915.

Even in such destitute conditions, Armenians found work that would provide them enough to buy their food and perhaps a bit to put aside for passage to America. Photo #18 could be a refugee situation for the cut of the women's clothes is similar to that of the clothing worn by Armenian refugees and orphans in the 1920s. In any case, the women are involved with aspects of rug-making: one is preparing the fiber; one is spinning the thread and one is weaving. Women traditionally have been the weavers of rugs in the Armenian homeland, especially in the villages where most of the rug weaving was done.

Meanwhile Armenians in the United States were integrating into American life. For many the first stop was Worcester, Massachusetts, where jobs were available in the wire mills before the turn of the century. Some moved on to other places such as Detroit and Fresno, but others remained in Worcester and began to establish their own businesses. The Tavajian Brothers opened their rug store around 1925 (see photo #19). They were originally from Smyrna, where as young boys they learned to weave. In a sense this photograph of Harry Tavajian, in front, weaving, is unusual because in the old country rug weaving and knot tying were and still are usually done by women. Harry and his brother George continued in the business together through 1935.

Another Worcester Armenian, Mihran "John" Tufenkjian, was the proprietor of Tufenkiian & Co., Oriental Rugs, located not far from the Tavajian Brothers' store, both on Pleasant Street. Tufenkjian & Co. sold and serviced rugs (see photo #20). Haig, the son of John Tufenkjian, remained in the business but changed its emphasis from orientals to generic carpets. The business closed recently when he died.

One of the earliest oriental rug dealers in the United States was Hagop Bogigian, an Armenian native of Kharpert. He came to the Boston area in 1876 as a laborer but several years later was on his own selling oriental carpets out of a shoe store window in Harvard Square, Cambridge. His first customer, who soon became his good friend, was Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

By 1882 Bogigian moved his blossoming business to Beacon Street in Boston directly across from the Massachusetts State House (see photo #21). It was here that members of Longfellow's literary and academic circle socialized before going to the Boston Atheneum down the street. Thus Bogigian's store became a meeting place for the literary figures of the time, in a way similar to other Armenian rug stores where Armenian men gathered and spent time together (see photo #22). Eventually Bogigian traveled back to Turkey to the cities of Smyrna and Constantinople in order to set up business connections for importing oriental rugs.

In the Near East rug merchants usually were well established, wealthy members of the upper class, as was the Garabed Telfeyan family of Constantinople. In 1878 G. Telfeyan & Sons, Importers of Persian Rugs, sent son Sarkis to Union City, New Jersey, to open an office for wholesaling rugs in the New York area. Ten years later Sarkis moved the business, then known as S. Telfeyan & Co., to New York City. In 1902, when the family gathered in Constantinople to have a photograph taken (see photo # 23) , they thoughtfully left an empty space in the center back so that later a photograph of Sarkis and his wife Agavne could be "dropped in."

Eventually everyone in the photograph except Garabed and his wife Nouritza immigrated to the United States. The sons were involved in S. Telfeyan & Co. until they split the business in 1932, and today one of Garabed and Nouritza's grandsons is still retailing rugs in Garden City, New York.

Levon Davidian, another Armenian who became involved in wholesaling rugs to America, immigrated to the United States from Adana in Cilician Armenia when he was a young man. He then went to Sultanabad, Persia, in 1924 to establish a rug business there (see photo #24). Before leaving the United States, he negotiated a twenty-year contract with a rug dealer to buy the rugs he would ship wholesale. With his home base in Sultanabad, Davidian traveled throughout Persia to places such as Ispahan, Teheran, and Kerman to buy rugs and ship them to the United States.

Today Armenians are still active in all aspects of the oriental rug business. Although the photographs in this essay represent only a small number of the Armenians who have been involved in some way with oriental rugs, they provide a look at this tradition and remind us of the value of preserving images and their history.

In order to add to our knowledge, Project SAVE continues to collect and document vintage and modern photographs of Armenian people wherever and whenever they have lived. If you have photographs to donate or copy, please contact Ruth Thomasian at Project SAVE, 46 Elton Ave., Watertown, MA 02172.