Patient
Stories
An actress and
a theater critic,
connected by the
theater- and failing
eyesight. Enida
Agasiyava and Vilik
Hovhannesyan never
met. Yet, with
the theater as
the common thread,
they have followed
similar paths throughout
each of their 78
years—making their
mark on the theater.
Vilik in Armenia
and Enida in Azerbaijan.
Introduced
by the EyeCare
Project, Enida
and Vilik recently
met for the first
time in a coffee
shop in Yerevan.
Over coffee and
croissants they
reminisced about
their lives in
the theater and
their recent eye
surgeries on the
AECP Mobile Eye
Hospital.
Born
in 1928—Enida in
Tashkent, Uzbekistan,
and Vilik in Yerevan—since
early childhood
they were attracted
to the performing
arts. Enida played
the piano and Vilik
the violin. Realizing
that music was
not their calling—neither
liked to practice—they
gave up their instruments
and turned to the
theater at age15.
“It is rare when
a person understands
his or her calling
at such a young
age,” reflects
Enida. Her career
as an actress began
in Baku, Azerbaijan,
after she saw a
recruitment notice
for a local theater
and decided to
try out. “For
me, it became quite
clear rather soon
that theatre is
my soul, my true
environment.”
Enida built her career
performing in cities
and small towns
in the Azerbaijan
and Georgia regions.
An ingénue—“a dramatic
ingénue,” she says,
that’s what I was
known as in the
theater. Following
a performance in
Sevile a play by
Azeri playwright
Jabar Jabarly,
people would applaud
and shout “Sevil!
Sevil!” whenever
they saw her on
the stage, whatever
the play.
Vilik’s call to the
theater and his
realization that
it would be his
lifelong pursuit
was almost as immediate.
Following his very
first visit to
the theater, a
performance of
Othello with the
great Armenian
actor Vahram Papazyan,
Vilik says, “My
life changed.”
As if it was yesterday,
Vilik remembers
the hush that came
over the theater—the
“intense silence”
in anticipation
of Papazyan’s entrance
onto the stage.
But it was Papazyan
“living through
his role” that
had the greatest
impact on Vilik.
Following the performance
he couldn’t sleep.
“I was awake all
night thinking
about myself, my
life, about Papazyan,
about the role
of the theatre
in a person’s life.
By dawn I knew
that I was different.”
Compelled
to take pen to
paper to memorialize
his impressions
of the performance,
Vilik wrote the
first review of
his career. The
article was immediately
printed in a local
paper—without editing.
It was the beginning
of his lifelong
affair with the
theater—“The beginning
of my career as
a theatre critic,”
says Vilik. His
articles were a
success among readers
and often young
actors would approach
him asking just
for a mention of
their name in his
articles.”
Sadly,
because of the
political and social
climate of the
day, both Enida
and Vilik were
deprived of the
opportunity to
pursue their theatrical
careers as they
may have been able
to do at a different
time and in a different
place. The theater
changed with the
political and social
climate. Art and
creativity were
stifled and stage
performances were
either politically
neutral—the classics,
or praised the
current Soviet
regime. While
they both continued
working in the
theater, circumstances
didn’t allow for
much creativity
and opportunities
were few.
Fast-forward to 2005.
Enida and Vilik
are both living
in Yerevan—Enida
at the Haghtananak
Nursing Home and
Vilik at the Nork
Nursing Home—their
eyesight failing.
The AECP screening
team visited the
nursing homes and
following diagnosis—Enida
with cataracts
and macular degeneration
and Vilik also
with cataracts—the
doctors performed
surgery.
“I will see life
with new eyes,
in new light,”
exclaimed Enida
as she waved her
arms dramatically.
Continuing, she
said, “Wonderful,
wonderful is everything
the doctors do.”
Vilik, who had a cataract
extraction with
a lens implant,
commented as though
he may have been
writing a review
of the experience.
“I view the eyes
as one of the body’s
most vital organs
and question what
kind of life one
would have if they
could not see.”
Vilik goes on to
say, “He who cannot
see is deprived
of perceiving the
fantastic beauty
that nature has
bestowed upon us.
He is deprived
of the possibility
of seeing people’s
faces.”
We left Enida and
Vilik in the coffee
shop on that beautiful
spring day as they
continued to share
their stories about
the theater—a burgeoning
late-in-life romance?
Brought together
by the EyeCare
Project.
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