For me it’s very hard to define what is to be considered a childhood memory and what is not. Is childhood something that happened a long time ago or a state of mind ? Is there a time period after which childhood ends or we never actually grow up? I tend to believe that all of us carry some portions of our childhoodness with us till the end of our lives, the proportion of which from year to year tends to decrease.
Anyway, to capture the childhood I thought I first would need to define it. Probably not in a most philosophically accurate way, but still… my way. So I identified for me 3 main qualities that are the most present in my childhood memories, order, chaos and scale.
Despite the fact that childhood and children in general are very unpredictable, dreamy and chaotic, there was always some kind of order and patterns which I tried to remember and capture, by returning to the most popular locations of my childhood. And of course when we are children everything seems so big, tall and endless both physically and metaphorically which I also tried to capture in my pictures.
Yerevan, May 2026. The fountain on the way to my kindergarten. It is actually quite small, but the small version of me used to put a lot of effort into reaching it and drinking water.
A Soviet era climbing frame where every child had the same goal: to reach the top and be the winner. Still very popular among the kids. Yerevan, Kindergarten, May 2026.
One of the few corners of my kindergarten that has remained unchanged. My own towel from those years is still in use at home.
Over the years, towels became just one and not for us, but for teachers. Yerevan, School N161, May 2026.
The school bell that was a witness to every lesson break. School N161, Shengavit, Yerevan, May 2026. For years, my day started and ended with the sound of it.
In the gym of School N161, Yerevan, in May 2026, I found the same gymnastic rings hanging from the ceiling in the same exact position. They seemed to be never used in not after not before me.
School N161, Yerevan, May 2026. A classroom chair covered with the marks of generations of students, carrying decades of memories. Some marks are fresh and bold, while others have faded with time.
My brother, Davit, on the roof of our grandmother’s house, Yeghegnadzor, May 30, 2026. Growing up together, he was the partner in all my adventures and helped me to shape my tricksy behavior.
One of the core memories connected with my father. We used to ride together when he was younger and I had more time. Now bicycles are just silently collecting dust in our garage. Yerevan, Shengavit, May 2026.
“Kampot”-s, prepared by my parents for the winter. These jars every time brought back to busy summer holidays, when home is full of sweet smell and traditional conversations. Yerevan, May 2026.
The crystal lamp came from my grandmother’s house. Its shiny pieces were one of my favorite things to play with. Yerevan, May 2026
Yeghegnadzor, May 2026. The view from my grandmother’s window. Here I often read Armenian history books. Mountains served as the reference for the scenes described in the stories.
