Photographer Yuri Mechitov lives in one of the most vivid and lively cities in the world, Tbilisi, the taste and smell, inhabitants, and daily life of which he documents in photographs. Being famous film director Sergei Parajanov’s friend and personal photographer, Yuri Mechitov has left us with a magnificent set of photographs of that brilliant director (of not only films, but also life). And it’s no coincidence that this year’s Golden Apricot Yerevan International Film Festival, which celebrated Parajnov’s 90th birthday, invited also Yuri Mechitov, whose most famous photograph, “flying” Parajanov, became the festival’s symbol. 

Now technology has become so simplified and easy [to use] that any non-professional can take good photographs. How does a professional photographer resist these conditions?

Anyone who can allow himself to acquire an expensive lens has an advantage, while the qualification of a professional is beginning to waver. There are industries where if you don’t have new, quality equipment, you will fail. Photography is one of those industries.  

There are constant disputes about whether photography is an art or not. I can put it this way: photography is a craft. It is simply a means to create art. You can create art even with an empty box or a broken piece of glass and express your individuality this way. But if you don’t have individuality, no expensive camera can help you.   

There are a thousand and one photo editing [software] programs with which you can fix a shot, refine, darken or bleach it and another million things. And so it is that anyone gets the opportunity to make any one of the various individualities his. This is the time [we live in] now, consumerist. 

“Amateurs capture the event, but professional photographers try to capture the image. This is the difference”

Isn’t it difficult to make money with this craft?

Of course, it’s difficult. Money can be made by, say, photographing weddings. But it’s interesting, even then you don’t have freedom of action. Say, you want to photograph how [the couple] is cutting the wedding cake, but getting in the shot are about 20 people who are photographing the same thing with their mobile phones. They capture the event, but you’re trying to capture an image. This is the difference. And let me say that this is a very serious difference. 

Do you take photographs in Armenia?

Constantly. In Armenia, everything is interesting to me, and the reason is not only my Armenian roots. In general, ethnicity is not a serious argument for me; I have my own definition of ethnicity, which is very different than the definition made by Stalin. 

For me, ethnicity is an irrational burden that a person carries his entire life. It is a burden of pain, unease, rapture, and pride, which has accumulated over centuries. And mainly these are fake, invented. After all, we ourselves live in an invented world. And if you consider those invented [experiences] yours, you react to them, give them value, then you are part of that ethnicity. If Arshak II, Ara the Beautiful, and the Genocide are important, you’re Armenian.   

And when they ask are you Georgian or Armenian, I say, imagine that you’re in a zoo where ethnicity is written on all the cages. You can live long and quite comfortably in cages, but I prefer to be outside [of them]. That’s neither good nor bad — it’s simply a state.

Probably the best embodiment of this state was Sergei Parajanov, who was always above both ethnicity and the accepted rules.

Parajanov, of course, to a minimum extent felt his Armenian-ness, but they didn’t speak Armenian in his family and didn’t listen to Komitas. When in 1967, his film Kyiv Frescoes failed and Parajanov was banned from making films, he came to Armenia, saw and felt this amazing, stony country rich with monasteries. And Sayat Nova was born after that. 

In general, life is full of coincidences. We’re always grateful to God for the good things, while for the bad things, we reproach him. 

There have been so many fateful coincidences in my life that it’s not possible to erase any meeting or incident. Our lifeline is made up of our interactions with people and allows us to establish [ourselves], after all. I am very grateful that Sergei Parajanov was in my life. 

Your “flying” Parajanov photograph is the most famous in the world; it is the basis of the statue in Tbilisi; and this year, also Golden Apricot’s symbol. It’s interesting, how does copyright work in the case of this unique photo? There’s the impression that it should bring not only fame, but also income for the creator. 

It’s probably surprising, but that photograph has not given me a single cent, if we don’t count the time a Swiss [citizen] gave me 50 euros to reprint it on a poster. Of course, I understand that one must follow up and protect copyright, but I think if we’re talking about single use, sometimes one can turn a blind eye to [copyright] infringement. 

But when an authored photograph becomes part of a brand, one must demand compensation. After all, if the organization is incurring expenses, it must anticipate at least a symbolic amount for the author of the photograph. 

“People take photos of what they ate and post them online. Then they take photos of what they did after they ate. Have I caused so much harm in my life that I have to get this garbage every day?”

I came to Yerevan and only later saw that the Golden Apricot had used my photo as the symbol of this year’s festival. Starting a dispute [ex] post facto on my part would’ve been viewed as ugly. Of course, I’m pleased that my photo was selected, but I think [they] at least could’ve asked for permission. In any case, I’m happy that Sergei Parajanov continues to live and hover also due to the photo I took. 

How do you deal with copyright on the internet?

All my photos are online — many are even disseminated under other people’s names. If I begin to deal with all instances of copyright infringement, my life would not be enough. [So] I’ve decided not to deal with it at all. It’s just that when I take new photographs, I try to use the format that allows [me] to prove later that the photos are mine. Also, I always hope that those editorial offices with which I collaborate will be scrupulous and maintain copyright.   

Now our reality is such that you can’t keep an eye on everything. And if you can’t, it’s better that you abandon the idea and fill your life with other tasks. 

Do social networking sites play a role in your life?

You know, I liken social networking sites to a woman who has spread her legs widely and offers herself to everyone indiscriminately. Every day, I would get hundreds of friend requests on Facebook   — it was quite alien to me because I think that the very precious and important word “friend” depreciates like that. Online, a friend is nothing. 

And I won’t even talk about the torrent of photographs. People take photos of what they ate and post them online. Then they take photos of what they did after they ate. Have I caused so much harm in my life that I have to get this garbage every day?

Probably the best way to use social networking sites is to create a very narrow and close group of friends, where you personally know everyone and their opinions have meaning for you. 

There is an enormous amount of images in the world, and I don’t see the sense of adding something new and mediocre to that torrent. Non-mediocre photos are rarely created, and when they are, the internet is definitely not the place for them.

We truly are bombarded with images from every corner.

Consumer society always consumes the image more easily: [it] “reads” the image, so to speak, faster than the text.

Generally, there are two types of photographs: the first, lives a long time, almost forever, while the other is seen today and quickly forgotten tomorrow because no one needs it. 

At the photography school where I teach, we stress that a good photograph must have 10 layers of meaning. And it’s not mandatory for all of them to be apparent and read at once. Some layers have to remain hidden, not be chewed till the end and digested quickly. Art, after all, is not saying [everything] till the end. In this case, the heuristic, intuition, and miracles are born. 

Interview by Nune Hakhverdyan.