Tamara and her mother frequently visited a cafe near a place where I worked in 2008. Tamara always looked deep in her thoughts, concentrated. Her eyes looking in one direction. On the first day we met, I made several photos of her. Later I sadly lost the originals of those photos and met Tamara once again to photograph.
She told me she was very interested in politics and was a member of a political party. I then saw her at a rally of another party during presidential elections, and asked what she was doing there. “I always have to be informed about what the opponent is up to,” she said.
I met Sveta in 2008, when I was just beginning to photograph my ladies. We met several times and she never agreed for her picture to be taken. I found her again in 2013 and this time she agreed.
Sveta told me everyone loved her in her neighbourhood and really, everyone greeted her as we walked. She said she lived alone in a three-room apartment, and that she spoke five languages - Armenian, Russian, English, French and German.
When I saw Lora in the street she was walking slowly and proudly with a bag of bread in her hand. On one hand, she was very much like everyone. At the same time, there was something strange and outstanding about her. Maybe it was the slow walk, or her sunglasses that she never took off.
Lora later told me that her husband was the town’s Prosecutor-General, and that she was an English professor at the American University in Yerevan, which is unfortunately untrue.
I met her in Moskovyan Park in Summer 2010. She was sitting on a bench next to two men and was silent.
Of course her name was Natalie, what else could it have been, with those perfect looks. She told me she would gladly accept to be photographed. She did not give me her phone number and told me she would call to get the photos. She never did.
She was looking like a student, walking lightly, glancing around her.
Naira told me that she actually lived in Milan, Italy, and was in Yerevan only for a short time.
Mariam and I met in the street on a gloomy day. The heavy rain had just ended and she was walking in a wet wedding dress. I went up to meet her and it turned out that she couldn’t talk very well, which did not seem important. The wedding dress was not on her for a special occasion, she was just going home.
She later told me her relatives had sent her the dress from America, and she liked wearing it. She also showed me a picture where she posed in this dress and a bucket of flowers in a photo studio.
Many friends told me about Narine, and it did not take me a long time to find her apartment. When I did, she was not home. I came next day, and she was everything I expected.
Very thin, very high heels, very pale face accentuated with make up. She treated her looks with great attention. During our walk in the street she told me she had lived outside Armenia many years ago and that her greatest desire was to leave again.
I went to the Bangladesh district in the suburbs of Yerevan, looking for Aghun. After a day of asking and searching every corner, I was finally able to find her apartment. An elderly man, seeming drunk, opened the door, and told me Aghun was not home but that I could wait for her inside. I decided not to and went away thinking to come back again.
When I was walking back I suddenly saw her. She was returning from her day-long trip for water. She was wearing black, as usual and was very tired. We met the next day, and I photographed her.