The idea of the Soviet Union is something still very new to me. I studied modern history in school to which I managed to learn about the political sphere of it around the second world war, though being so distant from that side of Europe and Asia, we never really saw or managed to learn about general life. It's something that was met with obvious propaganda as the Soviet Union was considered a communist enemy, and to this day is still seen as such. I'm sure that is true to some degree with the clashing of ideology and culture, but to escape my own version of the iron curtain and venture into parts of the world that were once part of that period in time has been an utterly fascinating experience, especially with how different everything is.
Armenia is a very small country, a very old one, and it's one that keeps its history close to its heart, no matter whether the events have been negative or positive for them. To walk the streets of Yerevan is to witness the history, to almost be taken back in time as the city is riddled in monuments, statues, and buildings of a time that was regarded with much appreciation. It is such an odd feeling sometimes to walk through the streets, an emotion of loss, but also greatness remains.
I walk through empty parks, colours worn and with signs of decay, even in the trees this time of year as they shed their leaves. Colours of brown and grey dominate the views. The backdrop of communist era buildings contribute to the dark shades as they block the sunlight, sometimes with beautiful cast shadows or breaks of warm light that may seem they're focusing attention to something in specific. Life here seems slow, but with signs of increased life in the past. Playgrounds are empty, rusted and unsafe, overgrowth taking over the metallic side of things. It's clear nobody has touched these things in years, yet they sit there idle.
I like this to some degree, there's an odd feeling to be felt as you walk through these places alone. You get the feeling of loneliness, the feeling that the world has pretty much ended, leaving behind artifacts that tell stories that are no longer unfolding. The few people in the area pay no attention to these items. As if they were never there to begin with, or perhaps they hold bitter memories that are best ignored.
To feel so small surrounded by historical items that are seemingly ignored by those around you makes you put things into perspective, to think about yourself and your own presence in society. I can see how great structures of important individuals in parks, by roadsides can make you feel part of something greater, to take great pride in the idea of community and its achievements as a collective. That communist mindset in which individuality isn't really a concept.
This spans into the architecture, the huge buildings which have great walkways leading to the entrance. Wide and glorious, though now empty and rarely do you ever see anyone walking into these buildings. Again that feeling of discovering ancient artifacts is felt. That you are the only one noticing these structures from a different era; as if I stumbled into a planet that once held a grand civilisation that is no longer, only with brief signs and stories to be seen, emotion felt that was once there.
In some ways I think it's good to feel small. To be reminded of your insignificance in the face of reality. That you are just a weird advanced monkey on a giant floating rock in a vast, ever-expanding nothingness that we can only dream of fully comprehending. It puts a lot of life into perspective. To stand beneath megastructures gives you this emotion, and it's definitely intentional alongside the former and aforementioned communist agenda that was felt. Especially as the sun begins to set and illuminates these structures, golden and great, huge cast shadows spread across the ground.
Coming from England, the world doesn't feel this way at all. Skyscrapers may tower over you, huge reflections of sunlight spread through the pavement. But no sense of greatness, no achievement, no emotion is felt. No signs of our former past, decay still present, but no reminders of an ideology that once was, or a glimpse into those who had great influence on the culture. Almost rejected, in a way. Moved out of the way in turn for the modern and new.
Each of these images was shot on a Sony A6000, with a Sony 35mm f1.8 lens
To finish the post, here's something that I'm sure feels incredibly small in Yerevan. A stray cat that I found in the evening, sat underneath the towering Soviet cinema that arches over the street. The busy roadside full of people that are making thousands of footsteps through the area during the day and night, bus stops with different sized vehicles stopping by every few minutes. I can't help but think, what would the cat think of all of this? Does it feel small looking up at the world, does it feel that sense of wonder, curiosity and greatness for what it sees? The large me kneeling down to its level, someone finally trying to get to its size, its perspective. A glimpse of its world.
