The role of Armenian architects has been interpreted in two separate traditions in the past. Within the biographical tradition of Armenian history-writing, authors such as Teotik, Çark, Pamukciyan and Tu?lac? have encouraged an image of Armenian genius figures such as the Balyan Family, who had a very high status within Ottoman society and were responsible for magnificent works of architecture in a ‘westernized’ style, but whose accounts give few details concerning their interaction with local Ottoman culture and with their European education. The second tradition is that which has been created using Ottoman documentation and which posits that these architects were in fact ‘kalfas’, who were not trained in the science of architecture. These ‘kalfa’ are even blamed for the demise of the “unique beauty” of Ottoman architecture. New evidence shows how Armenian architects such as Serkis and Nig?os Balyan- but also further examples such as Léon Nafilian- were indeed trained in Paris - as the Armenian sources had cited, and envisioned themselves as genuine participants in the revivalist movement that was taking Europe by storm. They were not simply copying European styles but were politically and socially engaged individuals who believed they were creating a unique ‘Ottoman Renaissance’ to suit their empire.

The eighteenth century was a period of waning power in the Ottoman Empire. It also marks the beginning of Westernization as the Ottoman sultans, starting with the “Tulip Era” of Ahmed III (1703-30), increasingly looked to Europe for solutions to their problems. As such, imperial court art of the eighteenth century reflects the merging of Islamic traditions and European influences. It was a period when East and West coalesced in Sultanic portraiture to create a hybrid style of “classical” Ottoman legitimacy and new Western notions of individuality. Rafayel Manas (1715-1780), an Armenian painter from Istanbul, worked for the Ottoman court during this time of transition. Trained in Italy, Manas was highly regarded by the Ottomans and was considered the Raphael of the age. He enjoyed a long career as court artist to several sultans: Mahmud I (r. 1730-1754), Osman III (r. 1754-1757), Mustafa III (r. 1757-1774), and Abdulhamid I (r. 1774-1789). He painted portraits of the sultans, as well as images reminiscent of seventeenth-century costume albums (people attired in the clothing of various classes and occupations). Some of Rafayel’s most memorable portraits include the likenesses of Sultan Abdulhamid I and Crown Prince Selim (later Selim III). His portraits range from smaller format silsilename (genealogies of Ottoman lineage with illustrated portraits) to larger format oil on canvas paintings. Hence, his portraits document several changes taking place, namely the transition from the intimate tradition of miniature painting to the larger display portraits of the West. His paintings also show the trend from the Islamic tradition of flat imagery in primary colors to the Western interest in naturalistic modeling and likeness. I situate these portraits within the evolution of Ottoman sultanic portraiture as well as ruler portraiture of the West. Rafayel’s portraits document the decreasing power of the sultans within the idiom of the Ottoman Empire and the increasing encroachment of Western influences as the sultans desperately turned to the West for solutions to their waning power.

This paper offers a new angle in attempting to bridge Ottoman Armenian literary, social and visual art histories. It presents Simon Hagopian’s (1857-1921) painting Hamals on the Bridge at Karakoy (undated, early 1890s), as a rare visual equivalent of the abundant Realist literary output of the period. Realism had become the dominant cultural philosophy among a mostly Constantinople-based Ottoman Armenian literary elite from the 1880s onwards. Promoted by newspapers such as Arevelk, Masis and Hayrenik, the primary preoccupation of much literary production was to expose the wretchedness and poverty, and to call for the emancipation and improvement of the lot of those on the lower social echelons of society. Promoting education and social reform both within and outside the Ottoman Armenian millet at a time of great, and progressively intensifying, state censorship, much of these writers’ attention was focused on the living conditions of migrant workers from rural Ottoman Armenia. Of these, Hrant (Melkon Gurdjian (1859-1915), is unparalleled in having devoted almost his entire literary output to depict and portray, in great detail and with much sympathy, the lives of these migrants. Most visible among them were men (bekiars) from the plain of Moush and Van province, who worked as porters (hamals) and lived in slum-like conditions in inns (hans) in the imperial capital. Such preoccupations seem absent from the surviving visual arts record of native Ottoman artists. Western-style painting in particular, dominated by considerable conservatism, and heavily Orientalist in accent, appears to have catered entirely to the tastes of foreign visitors and a newly wealthy Ottoman elite. The existence, therefore, of work with powerful Realist underpinnings such as Hagopian’s forgotten Hamals calls for a re-evaluation of late 19th century Ottoman painting. Since its reproduction as a grainy image in the 1912 edition of Theotig’s Almanac the painting has vanished from public view. Based on an exhaustive physical analytical examination of the painting itself (located in a private collection following an eighteen-month search), and building upon archival research of late 19th century Constantinople Armenian-language media, this paper examines the relationship between artist and society and establishes links between image and text, the visual and the written record. By utilizing the painting as a crucial primary source document that exposes insights into the lives of the significant migrant segment of the city’s Armenian population, the paper adds a subaltern voice from the street to Ottoman Armenian art history.

The search for ethnic identity leads to objects that define a comprehensive material culture. Objects are symbolic representations of inherent beliefs that define a specific community - “. . . that group identity is not a stable, objective fact, but a construct, a product of human belief, human communication, and human action.” In this manner material objects of the Armenian Orthodox Church are more than physical manifestations. They are connected to Armenian Christian doctrine, the unity of the Christian community, the Armenian people’s unwavering attachment to the Divine mysteries expressed in Christ’s life and finally the glorification of God. Making objects for the Church was a pious act and each item produced and donated was considered a personal statement of faith. Such objects transcended the world of physical matter. Family prestige and social standing in the community were enriched by the donation of precious objects. Contributions from one’s own hand and of oneself instilled within the maker a sense of personal fulfillment and involvement in the spiritual life of the community, a deep attachment to Armenian secular and religious values, and finally adherence to Christian beliefs in an otherwise Muslim world. In this manner the objects produced by the community became symbols of faith and dedication to Christian religious culture.