Rescheduled: Book launch and reading

 

Book Release and Poetry Reading with book signing and reception in-person 

for History of Forgetfulness by Shahé Mankerian

(Fly on the Wall Press, 2021)

Thursday, March 10th, 2022 at 7:00pm ET

Guild Hall | Armenian Diocese

630 2nd Ave, New York, NY

PLEASE NOTE: All attendees must provide proof of COVID vaccination

Readings by the author and NY area writers and scholars:

Nancy Agabian, Christopher Atamian,

Alina Gregorian, Alan Semerdjian,

Alina Gharabegian & Lola Koundakjian

Shahé Mankerian releases his critically-acclaimed debut collection, taking readers back to 1975 Beirut, where an un-civil war is brewing. 

Mankerian asks, “Who said war didn’t love / the children?” setting the tone for a darkly humorous collection in which memories of love, religion and childhood are entangled amongst street snipers and the confusion of misguided bombings.

For more information contact Krikor and Clara Zohrab Information Center

Diocese of the Armenian Church of America (Eastern)

630 2nd Avenue | New York, NY 10016-4885

zohrabcenter@armeniandiocese.org

www.zohrabcenter.org

Shahé Mankerian’s debut poetry collection History of Forgetfulness book launch [postponed]

DUE TO CIRCUMSTANCES BEYOND OUR CONTROL, the event is postponed. WE WILL KEEP YOU POSTED.

Please join us for the Book Release & Poetry Reading of Shahé Mankerian’s debut poetry collection History of Forgetfulness with readings by NY area writers/intellectuals Nancy Agabian, Christopher Atamian, Alina Gregorian, Alan Semerdjian, Alina Gharabegian, & Lola Koundakjian

The Zohrab Center was established through the generous gift of Mrs. Dolores Zohrab Liebmann in memory of her parents, and dedicated on November 8, 1987 in the presence of His Holiness Vasken I (†1994), Supreme Patriarch and Catholicos of All Armenians;  and His Eminence Archbishop Torkom Manoogian (†2012), Primate of the Eastern Diocese of the Armenian Church of America. Liebmann’s father, Krikor Zohrab 1861-1915), was a renowned author, jurist, humanitarian and community activist in Constantinople, who was among the first Armenian intellectuals killed in the 1915 Genocide.

December 2, 2021  7:00pm ET 

at Zohrab Center

630 Second Avenue

New York, NY 10016-4885

April 24th 2019 reading in New York City (streamed event)

The event was streamed:

https://www.facebook.com/AsianAmericanWritersWorkshop/videos/2117403338561093/

ՅԻՇԷՔ Hishek: Armenian Writers on Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day

Tuesday, April 24 at 7 PM - 9 PM

Babycastles, 145 W 14th St, New York, New York 10011

🇦🇲🇦🇲🇦🇲

Alina Gregorian
Christopher Atamian
Aida Zilelian
Lola Koundakjian

🇦🇲🇦🇲🇦🇲

Alina Gregorian is a poet and artist, and author of the chapbooks Flags for Adjectives (Diez) and Navigational Clouds (Monk Books). Some poems can be found in Boston Review, Prelude, BOMB Magazine, among others. Alina lives in Brooklyn, NY and can be found here alinagregorian.com.

Christopher Atamian is a writer and creative producer of Armenian and Italian background and the grandson of Armenian Genocide survivors. He studied comparative literature as an undergrad at Harvard; television and film production at USC Film School and international marketing at Columbia Business School. Apart from creative endeavors and professional activities as a senior executive in leading media companies and consultancies (ABC, Ogilvy & Mather, Hill + Knowlton Strategies), Atamian has concentrated on community activism. He is the former President and a current board member of AGLA New York, and in 2004 founded Nor Alik, a non-profit cultural organization responsible for producing the First New York Armenian International Film Festival. Atamian also co-produced the OBIE Award-winning play Trouble in Paradise in 2006, as well as several music videos and short films. He was selected for the 2009 Venice Biennale on the basis of his video Sarafian’s Desire and received a 2015 Ellis Island Medal of Honor. He continues to contribute critical pieces to leading publications such as The New York Times Book Review, The Huffington Post, SCENES Media and The Weekly Standard. His first book of poetry A Poet in Washington Heights was published this year by Nauset Press and awarded the 2017 Tölölyan Literary Prize. He was born and still resides in New York City with his dog Chip.

Aida Zilelian is a New York City writer. Her novel THE LEGACY OF LOST THINGS was released in March 2015 (Bleeding Heart Publications) and was the recipient of the 2014 Tololyan Literary Award. Her stories have been published in over twenty-five journals and several anthologies. She has been featured on NPR, the New York Times, the Huffington Post, Kirkus Reviews, among other radio and print platforms. She is also the curator of Boundless Tales, the longest-running reading series in Queens, NY. She recently completed her second novel, The Last Echo Through the Plains. Her short story collection These Hills Were Meant for You was shortlisted in the 2018 Katherine Anne Porter Prize.

Lola Koundakjian is a regular reader in New York City and has appeared in four international poetry festivals. She curates a poetry reading series at the Zohrab Information Center in midtown Manhattan, and since 2006, has promoted Armenian culture with texts, translations and audio for the Armenian Poetry Project. She is the author of The Accidental Observer (2011 USA) and Advice to a Poet (2014 Peru; 2015 USA). Her work has also appeared in journals and anthologies on three continents. www.lolakoundakjian.com

Alina Gregorian: FORMIDABLE BEGINNINGS

I want to believe in something unique.

Like fluorescent blue light bulbs?

Like senators projecting themselves in cautious dance.

I’ve got something you may need.

A duty-free container?

Someone to write letters to.

They say, “Kindness exists in portions.”

Like a cake.

Like a football field.

They say, “Happiness exists in corners.”

Like a pile of sweaters.

Larry Levis said something about trees.

That’s why I’ve called you here.

Take a seat.

Open the window.

No, take a seat.

I’ll open the window.

How long have you been a crocodile?

Can you stop green?

Can you begin fern?

I can’t repeat questions.

Questions have expired.

Vanished into tea air.



This poem appeared in issue 5 of Poetry City, USA

Alina Gregorian: MANICURED SKIES?

We move keyboards to different locations.

Because nothing exists without mauve in your voice.
It’s red, dear.

It’s a noun without color, analogies without verbs.
The way you coordinate galaxies using your eyes.

The way you kiss, leaving post-its on my cheek.
What’s the weather like in Hawaii?

Blue skies with grey streaks.
Like being on a farm in a computer.

Like taking lemonade to a string quartet.
You sold your clothes and got in bed.

“We make a dwelling in the evening air.”
Said Wallace Stevens.

We said hello to the illusion of something there.
Like conditioning verbs to say hi to adjectives.

So many people print documents in the night.
So many people buy bagels in Seattle.

You draw guitars on my arm.
Your lamp is like a bell.

You said.
A thought inside a ship.

This poem appeared in issue 5 of Poetry City, USA

Alina Gregorian: Kansas

“Look at the turnips,” you said.

We are miles away from the farm

that sells turnips by the bushel

and your eyebrows are growing

tired from squinting at the road.

“Look at the way you tremble

when I hold you up to the light

of the television and compare

you to a basket of folding chairs.”

This poem has been published in Food Corp and appears here courtesy of the poet.

Alina Gregorian: Color Theorist

Tell me what you know about colors

how they aggrandize on your shoulders

as I rest my thoughts upon your brow.

And suddenly you know all the reasons

why π has been counted through the ages

as a mechanism for developing an apathy

calculator—not that we want one—but

isn’t it odd the way you don’t want

too much green on your lips.

This poem has been published in Food Corp and appears here courtesy of the poet.

Alina Gregorian's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in various publications including Boston Review, Washington Square Review, Caketrain, Juked, and The Best American Poetry Blog. She edits Maggy (www.maggypoetry.com).

Alina J. Gregorian: Good Citizen

I am not your nation's capital.
I am not fiscally responsible.
Nor am I delighted to meet you.
But I'd like to start flossing.
I'd like to throw arrows at Utah.
I'd like to sign my name here.
I'd like to tell an ant colony
to pack up and go home.
I'd like to sew your mouth shut.
I'd like to wave a flag on some
mountain overlooking some sea.
Here's what's going to happen:
I'm filling my car with gasoline
just to drive over these stones.


Alina Gregorian is an MFA student at The New School.