Tatiana Podgorskaya against the backdrop of Mount Ararat.

Tatiana Podgorskaya: (Not) All About My Armenian Mother

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YEREVAN-MOSCOW – Animator Tatiana Olegovna Podgorskaya, 51, graduated from the Moscow Animation Cinematography School in 1994. From 1985 to 1988, she studied at the Serov Art School No. 1, and from 1988 to 1992, she attended the Moscow Theater, Art and Technical College (specializing in theater set design). From 1991 to 1992, she worked as a set designer at the Sovremennik theater. In 1993-1994, she attended courses at the Polygraphic Institute and studied at the Animation Cinematography School. From 1994 to 2006, she worked as an animator at the Argus film studio. Since 2006, she has collaborated with various studios in Moscow, participating in the creation of numerous films. She is the recipient of the Ikar National Animation Award (2016, in the “Animator” category for her work on the film Andrey Khizhina and His Grief).

Dear Tatiana, we belong to a generation that grew up under the strong influence of Soviet animation cinema, and we are still under its positive inspiration. I have always been against the Soviet regime, yet most of my favorite cartoons remain the best works from the Soyuzmultfilm studio. Isn’t it paradoxical — within the “empire of evil,” the most wonderful animated films were made?

The Soyuzmultfilm studio is a completely separate world! A world of kind wizards and brave heroes, a world of adventure lovers and nice fairies. A place where, in the end, good always triumphs. The directors and artists were often very far from politics, and were, in themselves, incredibly witty, kind and intellectual people. Of course, scripts went through very tough censorship, but the screenwriters, directors, and artists were so talented that, even after passing through all the stages, they still managed to create unmatched masterpieces.

How would you characterize contemporary Russian animation cinema — are the traditions of Soviet animation still alive, or did things change after the collapse of the USSR?

The traditions of Soviet animation are gradually fading into oblivion. New technologies, trends and styles are emerging. The old school is almost gone. On one hand, this is very sad, but on the other, life moves on, changes, evolves and improves. However, animators remain wizards, as they always have been. The only thing is that now money, rather than talent, quality of work, and artistry, is what decides everything. Often, the person funding the film dictates its style and content, despite having absolutely no competence in the field. This is incredibly painful. My mother would always openly express her disagreement and refuse to work on such projects.

Konstantin and Lydia Voskanyants with their twin daughters: Marina is sitting on her father’s knees, Oksana – on her mother’s (1935).

You were born into the family of one of the outstanding masters of Soviet animation — animator and artist Marina Voskanyants, who passed away in early October this year. A Merited Artist of the Russian Federation, three times recognized as the best animator in Russia, Marina Voskanyants participated in more than 100 films and became famous for her choreography in animation. What is it like to have a mother who is an animator?

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What is it like to have a mother who is an artist? What is it like to have a mother who is a painter? Or a mother who is a wizard? These are three undeniable qualities every animator must have. And also, animators remain a child at heart for their whole life. My mother had all of these qualities. You ask why wizards? Because they create, draw, perform, and then, on the screen, you see an amazing result that you cannot achieve in live-action films. In animation, you can draw anything. For example, a few of my mother’s scenes: tender flowers transform into beautiful dancing girls (“Nargis”); Ivan dances with Firebirds and then skillfully catches one of them (“The Little Humpbacked Horse”); the dance of the Gypsy bird in “Before We Were Birds” and many others. I remember how my mother worked on the character Gromozeka in “The Secret of the Third Planet.” At first, she was horrified. “He has six arms! What do I do with them?! His eyes stick out like pencils! He has a door on his belly! How do I work with this? He can’t be static!!!” And my mother handled the task excellently; Gromozeka turned out to be very expressive. For example, in the scene where he talks to Seleznyov, she invented that Gromozeka feeds the professor a salad, then licks the plate clean and takes it for himself, opening the door on his belly.

This is how my mother worked day and night at home, drawing frame by frame. Around her desk, crumpled sheets of tracing paper piled up because when something didn’t work, it was easier to throw away the drawing and start again with a fresh sheet. Once the scene was ready, she would hand it off for rough phase work and filming. After the scene was viewed on the screen, the director would approve it and send it for further production — detailed drawing, phase line work on the celluloid, and filling in the colors. On average, producing a 10-minute animated film took nine months.

My mother was not just an animator. She was also a talented student and follower of the work of Lyudmila Alekseeva, the founder of Artistic Gymnastics at the House of Scientists in Moscow. If it weren’t for Alekseeva’s gymnastics, which my mother passionately practiced from the age of 15, I’m sure there wouldn’t have been such beautiful and graceful dances drawn by my mother in films like “The Nutcracker,” “The Steadfast Tin Soldier,” “The Doll Dances,” “Vasilisa the Beautiful” and others.

And also, my mother the artist-animator was my pride in front of my classmates. She would come to school, talk about her profession, and organized a field trip to Soyuzmultfilm for my class, where they handed out color phases from animated films, transferred onto celluloid, and everyone was absolutely thrilled. A year ago, I learned that one of the girls didn’t manage to get such a picture. And, 40 years later, she still remembers it.

Was Marina Konstantinovna familiar with Armenian animation, and do you remember what her opinion on it was?

My mother always admired Robert Sahakyants. But we never specifically discussed Armenian animation. Therefore, I cannot say what my mother’s opinion was.

Marina Voskanyants (in the center) with her granddaughter Varvara (on the left) and her daughter Tatiana. In the background, the hands of her grandson Ivan (2009).

From where did your mother’s ancestors hail?

My mother’s father was Konstantin Nikitovich Voskanyants; this name was given to him in Russia, although his birth name was Karapet. Great-grandfather Mkrtich (Nikita) was from the Nakhichevan district, which was part of the Yerevan Governorate at the time, from the village of Tsghna, which, by the beginning of the 20th century, was called Chananab (in Turkish). His wife, Parandzem, was from the town of Agulis — a medieval city in the Ordubad region of the Nakhichevan ASSR. In December 1919, all the Armenian population of Agulis and the surrounding villages was massacred by the Turks. It’s possible that some of our relatives who remained there perished. Today, these are Azerbaijani villages — Ashaghy (Lower) Aylys and Yukhary (Upper) Aylys.

Agulis had either 11 or 12 ancient Armenian churches. My great-grandparents were married in the Church of Saint Christopher. All the churches of Agulis were either partially or completely destroyed, but some still stood in the 1970s and 1980s. After the Artsakh Liberation Movement, the Azerbaijanis completely erased them.

My ancestors likely moved to Moscow at the end of the 19th century. My grandfather, Karapet, was born in 1894, and we don’t know if he was born in Armenia or in Moscow. Konstantin Nikitovich Voskanyants worked at the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts, organizing exhibitions. He passed away when my mother was two years old. His wife, my grandmother, Lydia Alexeyevna Voskanyants (maiden name Guchkova, 1912-1974), worked as an English translator. They had twin daughters — Marina and Oksana. My aunt Oksana received higher education and became a pediatrician, while my mother, Marina, became a wonderful and unique animator-artist.

Although your mother lost her father at a young age, was there something in your family or in her persona that can be called Armenian?

Konstantin Voskanyants passed away in 1936, when the girls were two years old. The sisters lived with their mother and grandmother, but relatives on their father’s side were also involved in their upbringing. Grandmother Parandzem and the father’s brothers — Aram, Ivan and Sergey Nikitovich with his wife Arusyak Kevorkova — especially spoiled the twins. Aunt Arussia would gift dolls in traditional costumes, treat them to Armenian halvah, and play various games with them. From her father, Marina inherited distinct Armenian facial features, such as her nose (which she liked to joke about) and her black-as-coal eyebrows.

Marina was an extraordinarily beautiful Armenian girl!

Marina Konstantinovna never visited Armenia. If you haven’t been to Armenia yet, you are always a welcome guest in the homeland of your grandfather!

Thank you, Artsvi jan! Yes, unfortunately, my mother never visited Armenia, but I have been there, and I absolutely love this incredibly beautiful country for its landscapes, mountains, canyons, and lakes, as well as its culture, cuisine, and, of course, its people. I love the monasteries of past centuries. I would love to visit the Tatev Monastery and Noravank Monastery again, taking my time without a tour guide, and explore other, less touristy monasteries. Drinking pomegranate wine by the shores of Lake Sevan, enjoying the vastness and the crystal-clear water. Walking around central Yerevan, visiting different cafés, trying local dishes and Armenian wines. I’ve been to Parajanov’s museum three times, and it’s an incredibly atmospheric place. I wished I could have stayed there. I was captivated by the house-museum of Martiros Saryan. The Museum of Contemporary Art also caught my attention with its exhibitions. I still haven’t managed to visit the Matenadaran— the museum of ancient manuscripts, but it must be very interesting! And also, I would love to be in Yerevan during the Vardavar holiday! I really want to visit Armenia many more times, slowly and without hurry!

My dream is to have a little house by the shore of Lake Sevan. And I know that dreams do come true!

Just as they came true in your mother’s animated films! Thank you for the conversation, Tatiana jan, and God willing, we will meet by the shores of Sevan!

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