OPEN-AIR MUSEUM OF VANDALISM

During the recent summit of the European Political Community in Yerevan, French President Emmanuel Macron combined his official programme with a state visit. The “special relationship between two sisters”—as Yerevan and Paris call each other—was underscored in many ways: a joint stroll through the city, a morning run around Yerevan, and, finally, a memorable and touching moment when President Macron sang “La Boheme”, the famous song by the renowned French chansonnier of Armenian descent Charles Aznavour, with Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan accompanying him on drums.

As is well known, “La Bohème” is an ode to Parisian bohemian life, primarily to its street artists. The official video shows from different angles the iconic Sacré-Cœur Basilica atop the Montmartre hill, the equally famous Moulin de la Galette windmill immortalised in works by Renoir, Vincent van Gogh and Pablo Picasso, the atmospheric cobblestone streets in the heart of Montmartre, the Église Saint-Jean-de-Montmartre, and the staircase on Rue Foyatier up which the funicular climbs.

All these corners of Paris, which street artists painted decades ago, still exist and can be seen today. They have survived to this day nearly unchanged, despite wars and political upheavals. As the saying goes, “Paris is always Paris.”

Yet, this story unwillingly makes one think of another city...

Irevan preserved in pictures

Meanwhile, in the 19th and early 20th centuries, other artists were also capturing the beautiful views of another city—the present-day capital of Armenia. Back then, however, it was called not Yerevan but Irevan or Erivan, named after Revangulu Khan, who founded it. Paintings and engravings from that era show the fortress, the khan’s palaces, mosque domes and Oriental interiors.

Here is a painting by the remarkable Russian battle painter Franz Rubo, titled “The Capture of the Erivan Fortress”. On the horizon you can see the twin peaks of the Aghri Dagh—the mountain range known in Armenia as Ararat—and a panoramic view of the city, with its mosque domes and minarets.

These paintings were authored by another Russian artist, architect and Prince Grigory Gagarin. His canvas “In the Residence of the Erivan Khan” reveals the sumptuous Oriental interiors of the Erivan khans’ palace. According to contemporaries, it was the most beautiful building in the entire East, with a crystal hall, stained glass and a divan reception room.

Here is an engraving titled “The Storming of the Erivan Fortress” from a Russian military-historical publication of the 1820s–1840s.

Here is a lithograph by battle painter Vladimir Moshkov, “The Storming of the Persian Fortress of Erivan on October 1, 1827”.

And this is a drawing by the French artist Dubois de Montperreux, depicting the harem courtyard of the Erivan Khan.

Here are works by the Russian photographer Dmitry Yermakov. We can see the Crystal Hall of the same palace, its magnificent stained glass…

This photograph is entitled “The Divan Room of the Hall of Mirrors of the Sardar Palace, taken by photographer H. Lynch.

The lost city

But can all these architectural monuments be seen in present‑day Yerevan, as they can in Paris? Alas, no.

The “Oriental fairy tale” of Irevan that once so enchanted artists, photographers and travellers have been removed. No, this is not the result of large‑scale wars or catastrophic earthquakes. The magnificent fortress, the beautiful khan’s palace, six of the city’s seven mosques—all of this was systematically demolished, mainly in the 1960s.

By a bitter twist of fate, it was precisely at that time that Aznavour’s signature song was released. “La Bohème” began to echo through Paris while the city with Azerbaijani heritage known as Irevan was being transformed into the Armenian city of Yerevan.

The entire historical fabric of what is now the modern city of Yerevan was extensively altered. The prestigious Marriott Hotel, where the French delegation led by President Macron stayed and from where he set out on his morning jog, stands on the site of the very same demolished Irevan fortress. Today, that fortress can only be seen in artists’ paintings and on a medal struck to commemorate the capture of Irevan.

From the Sardar Palace to brandy plant

This is the hill where once stood the Sardar Palace, the residence of the Erivan khans. Here you can see an old photograph. But this one is newer, taken on the site of the khan’s palace, which presently hosts… a brandy plant.

It hardly needs underlining that the Erivan khans were Muslims and did not consume alcohol. Yet it is in the cellars of their former home that brandy is produced today.

Incidentally, this is what Azerbaijanis saw in the liberated territories in 2020. This building used to be a mosque. Look at how they used it in absolutely inappropriate ways. A parallel with the brandy distillery is hard to avoid, isn’t it?

But the story of the lost old city of Irevan is not limited to this.

These are the remains of one of the mosques on Tepebashi Hill, since renamed Kond. The Yerevan municipality now plans to “redevelop” this district with the help of French investors. In other words, the plan is to replace remaining traces of the historic construction site.

This is what remains of the Abbas Mirza Mosque.

Why the city was changed

This one is a rare case in world history. Normally, the heritage of others is carefully preserved. After the Reconquista, the Spanish did not demolish the Alhambra Mosque. While at war with Mexico, the Americans preserved Santa Fe, a jewel of Mexican colonial style. Because it means beauty and history for them.

But Yerevan chose a different path. The historic architecture of Irevan bore too convincing a testimony to the fact that it was a city with a strong Muslim, Azerbaijani architectural heritage.

Therefore, a massive reconstruction of the city was carried out.

Do you know of a single country in the world that radically altered its architectural appearance, demolishing medieval Azerbaijani and Muslim architecture and building new Soviet‑Armenian, Christian architecture on its ruins? It is also a rare example of a sweeping change of around two thousand place names, including those of rivers and lakes, were renamed from their historical Azerbaijani names to newly invented Armenian ones.

Of course, President Macron has no idea that he took a stroll through the ruins of history and an open‑air archive of demolished heritage.

A warning that went unheard

Discussions on the urgency of protecting the unique architectural heritage of old Irevan had started long before the city disappeared. Moreover, there were concrete attempts to preserve the historical monuments. One of those who fully grasped their significance was the outstanding Russian and Soviet orientalist, archaeologist and academician Nikolai Marr.

Marr played a key role in studying and attempting to save the Sardar Palace. During his archaeological and inspection trips to Erivan (Irevan), he surveyed the historical complex and documented its condition in detail.

The scholar recorded the extremely neglected state of the architectural ensemble, yet arrived at the expert conclusion that at that time there was no danger of the palace’s immediate collapse. At the same time, the academician stressed that the deplorable state of the Khan’s Palace vividly demonstrated a general indifference to the preservation of Muslim historical monuments in the South Caucasus.

In describing the state of the other structures within the Erivan Fortress, Nikolai Marr concluded his report with observations that resonate today as an ominous warning: "These monuments could easily have been well preserved. It is both possible, and indeed imperative, to safeguard what still remains; in the field of archaeology, even ruins hold immense significance. Perhaps means can yet be found to avert their ultimate destruction. Above all, physical protection is required—a fence, a watchman, and measures to prevent the dispersal of fragments and further pollution.

"Quite apart from the purely academic significance of the listed monuments, other considerations, of equal weight from a state perspective, must also be kept in mind. The prestige of Russia as a Western civilised nation dictates that, if nothing glorious can be achieved in its name on the Eastern cultural periphery through cultural endeavours, then at the very least it must avoid the disgrace of being branded a destroyer.

"This matter of honour is only heightened by the fact that these monuments stand in regions with a substantial Muslim population—specifically within the city of Irevan—and in close proximity to Persia and Türkiye.

"A conscientious approach, particularly towards the Sardar Palace, is also demanded out of respect for the memory of the Russian Emperor, Nicholas I—who visited Erivan in 1837 and stayed at the palace—as well as the memory of the Russian playwright Alexander Griboyedov, whose masterpiece comedy Woe from Wit was staged for the only time during his lifetime within the very walls of the Sardar Palace."

Marr did not stop at the report. Together with it, he presented Nicholas II with photographs by Dmitry Yermakov, which captured the Sardar Palace and the Erivan Fortress. In 1912, the Emperor ordered the restoration of the palace and the entire Erivan Fortress.

Unfortunately, these plans could not be carried out. Soon the First World War began, wiping out many cultural projects of that time. Later, during the Soviet period, in 1964, the Sardar Palace and the surviving structures of the Erivan Fortress were finally bulldozed. It can be said with absolute certainty that all of this took place under the patronage of Anastas Mikoyan, who was then the second most powerful man in the Soviet Union.

In lieu of an epilogue

History has no room for the subjunctive mood. Today, it is impossible to bring back the Erivan Fortress, the Sardar Palace, or the majority of the mosques of old Irevan. Their place has been taken by new buildings, new streets, and a completely transformed architectural character.

Yet history has preserved something else—painters’ canvases, old photographs, engravings, archival documents, and contemporary accounts. It is these remnants that allow us to see the Irevan that once inspired 19th-century artists and amazed travellers with its Eastern architecture—a city that today can no longer be found on the map of modern Yerevan.

That is precisely why French President Emmanuel Macron’s stroll through the streets of Yerevan unwittingly takes on a different significance. During his visit, he saw a modern city, but he could not see the Irevan that once stood on that very spot—a city that survives only on the canvases of Franz Roubaud and Grigory Gagarin, the drawings of Dubois de Montperreux, the photographs of Dmitry Yermakov, and other witnesses of the era.

By a twist of fate, the French President’s visit was accompanied by Charles Aznavour’s song "La Bohème"—a song about memory, artists, and an old Paris that managed to preserve its historical soul. Old Irevan was far less fortunate. Today, it can be seen only where time proved stronger than bulldozers—in museum collections, archival photographs, antique engravings, and on the canvases of artists who preserved for posterity the face of a vanished city.