Photographer Zaven Khachikyan in this quite noisy and oversaturated information space of ours prefers to be presented with a more ascetic approach.

He is cautious with his archives and tries to catch moments of silence in the noise, which convey value and context to photographs.

It’s always interesting to see how a purely informational photograph is plucked from its original intention and becomes a stand-alone story. What promotes this?

A photograph, news media material, by and large, has two paths: it is either cleaned and personified, becoming high art or literature, or in the form of a cheap product, it appears (intentionally or not) in “news supermarkets”.

How would you describe the main problem or shortcoming of Armenia’s news media?

I would prefer there be one sector where work and creation are important. As for how the state machine is in this sector, I would say ‘ethically foolish’ (but this is a separate part of the conversation, requiring research).

Once, one of my friends said, I know who finances whom; if it’s suitable, let’s publish it and let the public decide, once and for all. I think it would be very fitting to do this regularly and substantiated.

Otherwise, the public often resembles a village maydan: They chatter, gossip, curse. As a result, a muttering, whining public environment is created. Today, 5–10,000 people in Armenia are engaged in buying and selling news; that is, they “go to work” to do journalism.

In a country where it’s either a requiem holiday or gossip and chatter, there are no great expectations. To a large extent, nothing much is happening around us as much as we give it verbal and visual importance. One of the main problems of the media industry is it talks too much.

It seems as though from every side we are told: come, shoot, write, fill minds, film videos with your mobile phone, be a filmmaker and creator. Then, people will come who will appreciate what you’ve done; they’ll like it and share it.

During all these years, why have we been unable to create an authoritative and truly mass media?

I think, the main reason is the mass itself — emigration and poverty. The demand for good theatre, good cinema, good media wasn’t created. Appreciated was the cheap, the shiny, soap operas, and cookie-cutter talk shows. The ignorant, the criminal, and the blabber are the most widespread.

What should the media talk about? What news should it give or take? Economics, science, law? Here we must be silent. Left are fashion and art, for which a single magazine would’ve been completely sufficient.

And since many media outlets are built on the glamor, scandal, playboy format, probably the only antithesis and defense is education.

I think, good education is self-education: the inner ability to purge and cleanse. Say, to separate needed information from useless information, healthy food from that which is harmful, real friendship from Facebook friendship.

Archival material is now in great demand. It seems we’re beginning to miss the old — but peppered with good, positive memories. And so, if we don’t know what tomorrow brings, it remains only to marvel at the past. 

Going back also requires turning on filters. After all, getting into archives is not a simple step — professional skill is needed. You have to go back [using] one science; to go forward, [using] another education. To understand what you long for. 

Recently, I had to purchase archival photos for a project. I was offered a very reasonable price [to acquire] not 10 but 700 photos at once. They were stunning photos; one better than the next. I began to think, ok, say, I bought them, what would I do later, how would I work with them? After all, simply buying them and filling my computer without classification is meaningless.

After all, it’s not always necessary to take that which is given for free. I think to get into archives, you have to be a little bit of a scientist, a little bit of a writer, and a little bit philosopher.

Sometimes I try  to put photos on Facebook, which was interesting to me as an opportunity to begin a conversation of a theoretical nature. Amusing debates arose online (the photo is commented upon, becomes cause for gossip: self-assertion, envy, again gossip).

I was waiting for officials to respond to questions suitable for the public in public platforms, for “friends” to develop the conversation and phrase the question, and journalists to correct and guide it with a professional approach. This would’ve been interesting and helpful. But our reality likes aversion and invectives, which is why the Facebook environment quickly bores.

Because of the smoke, I now go to cafes less, and there’s a need to communicate with people (as in the past). Sometimes I meet people virtually — this has become the catastrophe of the century.

That’s the deception of social networking sites: if you post and comment, then you exist.

Your day isn’t a day if you don’t post a few status updates, gossip about this or that person, or argue or participate in this widespread noise. If you haven’t done all this, then you have nothing to do. You basically don’t exist. 

We have to try to return asceticism; gluttony doesn’t lead to anything good.

The gluttony of images?

Of everything. Also words. Probably we too spoke too much now.

Interview by Nune Hakhverdyan.