Tsovinar Kuiumchian in Conversation with

Kristin Anahit Cass,

February 28, 2024

On the publication of the first edition of her debut book, Reparations of the Heart

Kristin Anahit Cass is a multidisciplinary artist and writer working in photography, video, sculpture, installation and other media telling stories that imagine the future, connect with the past, and envision a better world. Her work brings both ancient and futuristic associations into potent transtemporal assemblages. She explores the geographies and visual-material culture of her ancestors and those of others, often in collaboration with her photographic subjects, to activate the experiential states long denied to her fellow diasporans through shared histories of erasure, trauma, and displacement. As many communities around the world continue to endure destruction, the artist’s critical collaging practice produces radically peaceful images of home. Her visual language invokes play and transformation, illuminating the complexity of diasporan imagination of homelands—part-remembered, part-invented—and the ongoing project of reconstituting one’s freedom from oppressive imperial historiographies and visions of the future. Cass’ work offers a powerful perspective of what it means to craft futures creatively. For her, future liberation is inextricable from being in communion with other immigrant and indigenous groups, holding their ancestral stories like she holds her own, and extending unwavering solidarity in the face of the rising tide of imperial violence.”

Tsovinar Kuiumchian is a doctoral candidate in Anthropology at the University of Oxford. Focusing on the world-building potential of creative media, she is writing an ethnography of contemporary Armenian art in the diaspora and in the homelands of Armenia and Turkey. Part of the global Armenian community, she was born and raised in Ukraine.

Tsovinar Kuiumchian (TK): In your work, you draw on some foundational sci-fi concepts, such as “future histories.” Could you talk about your sci-fi influences and how they inform your practice?

Kristin Anahit Cass (KAC): I’ve always looked to the stars, looked to the future. Afrofuturism has been an important influence. The work of writers like Octavia Butler and Rivers Solomon has informed my own work. I grew up with the shameful history of almost unimaginable mistreatment, too mild a word really, of Black Americans. Yet, reading speculative fiction by Black writers, which both dealt honestly with our brutal past and had hope for a better future, spoke to me of resilience and hope, and the necessity of both envisioning and working towards positive futures. Their writing also framed the importance of representation and the power it can generate when creating our visions of the future and how what we do today will shape that future. When envisioning the future, I also turn to the work of Becky Chambers. Her stories often present possible futures where societies and technologies have evolved in many ways; while they still face issues we face today, they’re able to deal with them in ways that will create more positive, humane, and tolerant futures. Her writing imagines what we could do and is hopeful for individuals and societies. I infuse my own work with that hope and vision.

TK: You work in a variety of media, including painting, photography, collage, and installation, and you even bring the traditional Armenian divination practice of reading coffee grounds into the gallery space. What does each medium offer you, as an artist, and what kinds of effects do they produce for the viewers?

KAC: We are a very visual society, so as I turn my photography into complex digital collages, I see that viewers can look deeply, and see the symbolism and feelings embedded in those works. I like to do three-dimensional work, such as sculpture in clay or assemblage, to bring my ideas to a different kind of physical reality that can be touched and experienced in the dimensional way we experience the world. Painting and physical collage offer other kinds of freedom and experimentation, which I often do for myself more than for viewing by others. My videos use the visual orientation of our culture and have the advantage of allowing viewers to also experience sound and movement. Installation work provides another opportunity for an immersive experience, using the exhibition space itself to advantage, and allowing for the combination of various elements into multidimensional and interactive work. Performance, like the coffee readings, gives me another opportunity to directly engage people in an immersive experience where we can meet and connect.

TK: The Reparations of the Heart series involves many subjects with SWANA background, who connected with you online to have their portraits taken. Some of these encounters involved travel across the US, so you set up a portable photo studio. This evokes the mobility of Armenians, who in the 19th and 20th centuries played a crucial role in the dissemination of technological and cultural developments in the realm of photography in the SWANA region. Would you tell me more about your experience of, in a way, being a traveling photographer and running this portable photo studio for the project? 

KAC: I love that historical connection. In my History of Photography classes, I started learning about the work of Armenian photographers and that encouraged me to continue learning about that aspect of our history. First of all, I was really fortunate, since I live in a major city. People from other parts of the Midwest and all over the world come through Chicago, and I got to photograph them, so that was pure luck. One of the other places that I worked was Los Angeles, where several people from the East Coast ended up at the same time as me. Then, I went up to the Bay Area and, lastly, to Detroit. The traveling studio was both exhilarating and exhausting. Because it’s expensive to travel, I would schedule myself from morning to night, every day. I love being in different places and meeting new people, so that was fun for me, even though it required very long working days. I got to meet so many interesting and really wonderful people. Our conversations about our past, present, and possible futures were inspiring and expansive. If I have the privilege to make more works in this project, I want to travel to make more portraits of SWANA diasporans throughout the US and the world, as well as landscapes of our region.

TK: You mentioned that one of the ways the subjects of Reparations of the Heart collaborated with you on their portraits was that they brought objects of SWANA material culture—such as textiles, tableware, board games and photographs—to conjure transtemporal SWANA worlds. The importance of material culture appears to be indispensable in the visioning of a future, within the context of generational erasure and dispossession. Which cultural and familial objects were important for you, as you grew up in Chicago, and how did they form your vision as an Armenian futurist artist?

KAC: I grew up in a house surrounded by the beauty of traditional rugs and my Chicago apartment is full of them. There’s so much history embedded in their designs and stories, and I love knowing that I am living with these handmade works of art that carry the touch of their creators. My rugs found their way into most of the portraits in this recent project, as symbols of commonalities among SWANA cultures throughout the region. I see our creativity as an important component of our future. I have my grandmother’s surjaman (Armenian coffee pot), which evokes feelings of community, connection, and celebration—all features of my work. My nardi (backgammon set) holds memories of Sunday afternoons, after lunch in my grandparent’s house, and more recent memories of lazy afternoons with my own family. This and our shakhmat (chess set) also became part of the anti-colonialist stance in my work (Brian and Brandon Play Shakhmat with Colonial Powers). The lace made by the women of my family has found its way into a recent installation, as a symbol of the importance of women in preserving and growing our cultures. My grandmothers’ beautiful handmade taraz or traditional dress also appears in my work (Nada and Araxie with Hookah).These are just a few examples of my own things, and those that the people in my portraits brought are pieces of their histories. Connection to our ancestors has informed my thinking about the future and the ways we can use the lessons and experiences of the past to envision a more expansive future, instead of being constrained by tradition and history.

TK: What was the relationship between your photographic subjects and the objects that they chose to bring for their portraits?

KAC: There was one ancestor portrait, where the subject, Nadine, is holding her grandmother’s needlework. Her grandmother had been working on something just before she died, so there is a needle in mid-stitch. That was really emotional—Nadine and I really felt like her grandmother was in the room.

On the other end of the spectrum, another woman's grandmother came here and desperately tried to assimilate, like: "I'm not Lebanese at all. I'm just going to be an American." The woman who was having her portrait made, felt like this whole part of her was erased, so she was really trying, in every way she could, to reclaim some of that. Her grandmother had been a champion bowler, so she brought her grandmother's bowling ball and trophies. She talked to me about how the assimilation had affected not only her grandmother, but also her and her siblings, which    was really moving. There are many stories like that. It is a strange thing, now, with all of the violence inflicted upon Palestine, because there are many Palestinians in Chicago, and I photographed many Palestinians. I think back to their portraits and the things they had to say about being Palestinian, Islamophobia, and the sense of erasure. As an Armenian, I strongly identify with what has happened and is happening to them, because it is so parallel to so many things that we experienced.

TK: The images in the Reparations of the Heart series are compositions that often involve elements of nature as background for your photographic subjects. The images you use for these compositions are taken in Western Armenia, the Republic of Armenia, Artsakh, Iran, and other locations around the SWANA region. How do you conceive of the relationship between the indigenous subjects, land, and nature in your work?

KAC: “We are our mountains.” It’s the motto of the indigenous Armenian land of Artsakh, now under occupation by the colonialist regime of Azerbaijan. If we look at the destruction that colonialism caused throughout the region, beginning in ancient times, we can see that the occupiers have little regard for the land and little connection to it. I don’t subscribe to the fantasy that all indigenous cultures were peaceful and living in harmony with each other and nature. However, I can see and have experienced a closer connection to our survival between indigenous peoples and their indigenous lands. We often learn from our land, the other animals that inhabit it, and the plant life that grows there. I have felt the call of and connection to the lands of my ancestors, and so have the people that I photographed. The first time I went to Armenia, I felt the connection so strongly. Suddenly, so many things my family did when I was a child made sense. When I’m away too long, the land calls me back and I have to go. These were feelings also expressed by the people I collaborated with. One frequent conversation at portrait sessions was about our lands and the desire to reconnect and preserve them in our envisioned futures. This idea is often visualized in my work (By the Light of Our Moons).

TK: It is intriguing to see that, in some of your images, the subject is duplicated several times across the composition, evoking alternative configurations of spacetime in the worlds that you create. Could you comment on this multiplying gesture?

KAC: As I worked with people, I got to know them in multiple dimensions and I often tried to portray that in my work through multiple representations (To Be Seen and Loved).We pass through many stages and evolutions throughout our lives and I used multiple images to portray this as well (Ascension). Multiple images also embody the idea of multiple possible futures for individuals and societies, and the power of working together (The Girl Who made the Stars).

TK: The recent ethnic cleansing campaigns in Artsakh (Nagorno-Karabakh) and Gaza brought back the trauma of genocides and wars that the SWANA communities had been creatively transforming in the past years. Some of the locations pictured in your images, such as the Mamrot Qar (Umbrella Falls) waterfall in Artsakh, have become historical Armenian land in September 2023, following the ethnic cleansing of the indigenous Armenian population. How do you experience the crisis of hope that is palpable in the SWANA community? 

KAC: Sometimes I feel deep despair, but then I think about how many of our communities have survived the complete loss of homeland and I feel hope. Empires crumble and time moves on. History holds many stories that would shock the people who destroyed other cultures with the brutality of their empires, as their empires fell and disappeared. People who have been displaced may return and we may yet learn how to stop the violence and greed of colonialism, in favor of living together and working towards a better future for all. We preserve our cultures in diaspora and our joy in those cultures is truly radical. I experienced this recently at the wedding of friends who are refugees from the genocide in Artshakh. They’ve lost everything twice now, even without considering their escape from the Baku pogroms in the nineties. Yet, when all were gathered together in community for the wedding, what I overwhelmingly experienced was their joy at being alive and together.

TK: What is the role of speculative futures during this acute political moment? What advice would you give to your fellow SWANA diasporans, who are working on their visions of the future in the current political climate?

KAC: In this hell of violence and erasure that we are living through today, we must envision the future ourselves. We must work toward a better future that we imagine. And we must envision a future of solidarity and mutual support. We must not allow concepts like nationalism, ethnicity, or religion to divide, as they have been used in the past. If we don’t, we will have nothing but the erasure that the colonial empires leave us with. Empire is not glorious. We must stop viewing it with nostalgia. It condemns indigenous people to death and exile. It means horror and destruction for the many, and more wealth and power for the few. It is ultimately unsustainable. 

Who is really in a position to offer advice? Better we should share ideas and collaborate. I remind myself that even if the future I desire will not come to fruition in my lifetime, it is worth working towards. The outcome of our outrage over a genocidal dictatorship’s use of starvation, genocide, ethnic cleansing, and cultural erasure against the indigenous Armenians of Artsakh was that the world stood by, barely virtue signaling against our rulers’ lust for oil and money. I hope that the outcome will be different for others, as we see the violence in Palestine horrifically unfolding. But whatever happens, we still need to work together for our future, if not for ourselves than for those that come after us.

TK: Would you share an experience from your creative practice or from your community engagement practice in Chicago when you truly felt that Armenians and SWANA diasporas exist in the future? 

KAC: During the 2020 war on Armenia and Artsakh by Azerbaijan, Russia, and Turkey, I found that non-conforming Armenians were left out of the community, and left to deal with their grief and anguish alone. As a community elder, I felt that it was up to me to do something that would be welcoming and inclusive, while making a positive contribution in the face of international complacency. I had an idea that showing the world something relatable about Armenian culture and our diaspora could provide an opportunity for collaboration and engagement. I wanted to put together a Cher-themed event, since she’s the best known, contemporary Armenian celebrity. The local establishment community was not encouraging. From this, Cher the Love for Artsakh came to life as a Cher-themed drag show with participation from Armenians, other SWANA folks, and non-SWANA artists all over the world. It gave us some much needed relief in a very desperate time, provided a way to engage non-Armenians, raised both money and awareness, and most importantly, provided some hope for a more inclusive future. People all over the world could see the video and, I think, everyone involved felt a sense of community and connection. It led to a variety of wonderful connections. This is the future I envision: connection, community, healing, and hope.

You can follow Cass’ work online, through her website, Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn.