The Third Path:

The Third Path:

Interview with the Co-founders of ToC Cultural Organization on their  'Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present' Project in Jermuk and more

In the abandoned Palace of Culture in Jermuk, where Soviet-era community halls once buzzed with cultural activity, the Triangle of Collaboration (ToC) Cultural Organization brought three contemporary Armenian artists together for a month-long residency that would transform how we think about forgotten spaces. Photographer Armen Ter-Mkrtchyan, printmaker Sophie Musoyan, and sculptor Manvel Matevosyan treated the crumbling building not as a backdrop for their art, but as an active collaborator in exploring what happens when architecture no longer serves its original function.

The first project of the Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present, a large-scale program in Jermuk, is funded by the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation. The residency is part of this project and is realized in partnership with the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation, the National Gallery of Armenia, and the Jermuk Municipality. It culminated in After Silence, the recently concluded exhibition at the Jermuk Gallery.
The exhibition marked a significant milestone for ToC's ambitious project "Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present"—and represented something far larger than its venue might suggest.

The project became the first Armenian initiative ever selected by LINA, the prestigious European architectural platform, chosen from 310 global proposals. This achievement places Armenia squarely within international conversations about heritage reuse and urban renewal, with ToC founders demonstrating what the project curator Sona Hovhannisyan calls "a third path"—an alternative to the binary choice between demolition and expensive reconstruction that has plagued countless civic buildings across our region since the Soviet collapse.

For Jermuk, once a thriving spa town and cultural hub now urgently seeking revitalization, this strategic cultural investment represents more than artistic intervention. The project aims to demonstrate how collaborative cultural initiatives can serve as a catalyst for both community cohesion and economic recovery.

In a recent conversation with Regional Post, ToC co-founders Sona Hovhannisyan, Curator and Art Historian, and Marianna Atshemyan, Art Manager and Partnership Strategist, revealed the philosophical and practical framework behind their approach to cultural intervention.

 

 

Speakers:  

S.H. ( Sona Hovhannisyan, Curator, Art Historian, Co-Founder of ToC Cultural Organization)
M.A. (Marianna Atshemyan, Art Manager and  Partnership Strategist Co-Founder of ToC Cultural Organization)


Can you tell us about ToC's founding vision and role in Armenia's cultural landscape? How does your triangular structure of artists, curators, and arts manager-strategists enable the kind of innovative collaboration we see in the Jermuk project?

M.A.: When Sona and I decided to found the ToC (Triangle of Collaboration) Cultural Organization, our shared vision was to create a living platform that bridges gaps within the Armenian cultural field by connecting artistic practice, curatorial work, and strategic art management. When a project is supported by these three key players, it transforms from a simple initiative into a living cultural environment, one that breathes beyond the original idea and sustains its impact over the long term. 

The triangle considered the most stable form in architecture became our model for collaboration. This triangular structure isn’t just a concept; it’s how we work every day. By bringing different disciplines into dialogue, we foster both expected collaborations and unexpected ones, which often lead to new creative directions and outcomes. From a strategic standpoint, we aim to create projects that act as bridges turning ideas into sustainable, socially meaningful outcomes while connecting them to international conversations.

 

 

 

S.H. When we were first discussing ToC, it was clear we shared the same values and working methods, ones we had already applied independently. So it felt natural that our first large-scale initiative would be “Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present”,  an idea that I began shaping into a concept and developing more than six years ago, which at its core aims to explore architecture through contemporary art.  ToC's framework not only aligned with the project but enhanced it. Rather than giving artists a brief and asking for results, we offered space for them to become part of the concept itself. This adaptive, collaborative approach truly demonstrates our working methodology.

M.A.: At ToC, an idea isn’t just a destination; it’s a shared journey. In the Jermuk project, our triangular model of collaboration turned Sona’s idea into a nucleus: it brought together people who not only collaborated around it but also shaped and expanded our collective vision. Sona developed a strong, deeply researched concept rooted in the local context. The participating artists created artworks inspired by this idea, while I helped ensure it would grow into a living process by building partnerships, defining objectives, and embedding sustainability and impact.


 
The "Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present" project addresses a challenge many post-Soviet cities face - abandoned civic buildings that once held community significance. When you first came up with this initiative, what was your strategic vision for how cultural intervention could address both architectural heritage and social renewal? How does this project reflect your broader organizational mission?


S.H.: It's true the "Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present" project addresses a challenge many post-Soviet cities face he project that we held in Jermuk city was focused on a Soviet period abandoned Palace of Culture but at the same time explores not just Armenian Soviet Modernism, but the wider concept of abandonment. 

I remember when I saw the Palace of Culture in Jermuk city my very first motivation to start this project was a desire and strong belief that there is a third path against very well known choices: demolition or reconstruction. And this challenge for me causes questions like: what happens when architecture is no longer serving its original function? What stories remain in these forgotten spaces? What role can art play in this context? These questions led me to the conviction that art has the power to transform how we perceive abandoned buildings like the one in Jermuk, offering a new language to engage with them.

So through  the project we invite people to start the dialogue to reimagine these abandoned buildings as collaborators in storytelling, identity, shared memory and collective imagination, while rethinking the meaning of cultural heritage conservation. Our goal wasn’t to treat architecture solely as a theme, but to integrate it with broader community concerns as a force shaping artistic expression and collective memory.

 

 

 

The building in Jermuk wasn’t treated as a backdrop but as an active collaborator. We selected artists who could “listen” to it, a photographer, a printmaker, and a sculptor, each responding through their own visual language: light, volume, texture, and material memory.

M.A.: Our collaborative model creates a space where artistic freedom and critical thinking meet clear strategic goals. From my perspective as an art manager and strategist, it’s crucial to continually evaluate the relevance and expressiveness of the projects we initiate: Is this project relevant and expressive? Does it pose new questions? Can it reach and engage diverse audiences both locally and internationally to build real bridges for dialogue and collaboration?

We constantly ask: by combining conceptual depth with thoughtful planning, can we ensure our projects become sustainable cultural experiences? In Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present, the abandoned buildings become latent social spaces, reactivated through art as sites for dialogue, memory, and redefinition.

 

Being selected by LINA from hundreds of global proposals represents significant international validation for Armenian cultural projects. What does this achievement mean for Armenia's positioning in international cultural and architectural discourse? And what does this recognition signal about the global relevance of post-Soviet architectural heritage challenges? 

M.A.: Being chosen by the LINA European architectural platform places Armenian cultural practice within a broader European and global dialogue. It demonstrates that local, context-sensitive projects can address universal questions around reuse, memory, and sustainability. For ToC, this validates that an interdisciplinary, process-driven approach resonates beyond borders.
We’ve joined a global network of professionals sharing similar concerns and working methods. This opens up mutual learning and long-term partnerships that go beyond what any single organization can achieve.

S.H.: In the Jermuk project, contemporary art rethinks the legacy of Armenian Soviet architecture as a living framework for collective imagination. Once dismissed, this architecture is now increasingly valued for its formal innovation, aesthetic tension, and symbolic richness. Through the lens of contemporary artistic practice, we seek to reframe these spaces as sites of social memory and cultural depth, spaces born from collective effort and rooted in local context. Our approach challenges extractive, competitive models of architectural education, advocating instead for multidisciplinary, ecologically conscious, and socially engaged methods. The core question becomes: how can we, through art, creatively and critically re-inhabit spaces whose original social functions have faded, yet whose potential for community and collaboration remains alive?

M.A.: For us, LINA’s selection is both an honor and a responsibility.  It shows that Armenia’s so-called peripheral cultural field has a voice in global debates. Our project raises questions not only about preserving heritage but about reimagining it: What lies between decay and development? Can creative practices shape future imaginaries rather than merely preserve the past?
On a global scale, it signals a growing awareness that the project concept is not just local; it reflects universal themes of loss, transformation, and the search for new social meaning within built environments.

 

 

 

Your curatorial approach involved bringing together artists from different disciplines during a residency period. What was your methodology for selecting this particular combination of artistic voices? 


S.H.: As the curator, I initiated the core concept of the project and invited the artist to explore and respond to it. My role is to shape the artistic direction while creating space for the artist to develop their own language in dialogue with the curatorial vision, allowing the work to evolve through mutual exchange. 

Artist selection was led by the curatorial vision, grounded in a deep understanding of each artist’s practice, openness to experimentation, and alignment with the project’s thematic and strategic framework. Based on the vision we invited a photographer, printmaker, and sculptor because each discipline offers a unique language to respond to silence, abandonment, and space. Their processes became part of the building’s narrative.

We made a deliberate decision to work with contemporary Armenian artists not for lack of international options, but to affirm the creative potential within our local context. It also emphasized that Armenian artists can contribute meaningfully to global conversations.

M.A.: While Sona focuses on curatorial framing and artistic layers, I work on creating strategic formats and communication tools to support and share that vision.

For us, interdisciplinary collaboration isn’t a goal we chase; it takes shape organically from a thoughtfully developed idea that is then positioned through a strategic approach. When the concept is clear and purposeful, it naturally attracts diverse contributors. This was the case in Jermuk.

The selection process itself is creative. The building almost hints at which artistic voices it needs. In our case, the artists helped turn the space into a work of art in its own right. 

 

The exhibition title "After Silence" suggests a deeply conceptual framework about memory and revival. Can you walk us through your curatorial vision for this exhibition? What role did site-specificity play in your direction, and how did you balance respecting the building's history with creating contemporary meaning?

S.H.: After Silence is a multidisciplinary exhibition featuring works by photographer Armen Ter-Mkrtchyan, printmaker Sophie Musoyan, and sculptor Manvel Matevosyan all created in the former Palace of Culture in Jermuk within the framework of the program "Architecture: Ghostly Past and Unrevealed Present". The project includes a documentary by Marat Sargsyan, offering insight into the artists' processes.

Abandoned architecture is often seen as dead space. What if silence is a beginning, not an end? What if we enter these forgotten spaces not to erase their past, but to engage with it, to listen to what it has to offer, and to breathe new life into what seemed left behind?

 

  

 

Each artist treated the building not as a shell but as a collaborator. As the curator my role was to transform this dialogue in the gallery. The exhibition becomes a space within a space - temporary zones that echoed the original building, not in form but in sensation. The artworks weren’t just objects, they were experiences. They ask to be moved around, looked through, and returned to. They are fragments, portals, and propositions. 

The exhibition embodies our belief that contemporary art can breathe new life into forgotten structures not by restoring what was, but by creating spaces for questioning, connection, and co-existence, where these places can still speak, transform, and gather us around new meanings.
 

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