Original subtitles

Many years ago,

before you were born,

in the center of the world,

Armenians and Turks lived in peace,

side by side.

During that time there was a boy.

His name was Solomon.

He was an orphan.

He was penniless, frail, and weak.

Despite all this, he was always thoughtful and kind.

This boy would grow up to be known as Komitas.

He would rise above his humble beginnings

to eventually be known as the savior of Armenian music.

He would be a priest, a singer, a composer, and a choirmaster.

This was, of course, before the Hamidian Massacres of 1894

and before the horrors of the 1915 Genocide that followed.

Sadly, the consequences of those events would drive Komitas to madness.

But above all...

he was my friend.

Songs of Solomon

Inspired By True Events

Constantinople 1915

I can still remember the last time I saw him.

It would be his final performance.

I can still smell the fresh paint

they had hastily repainted the concert house with...

...in gaudy Ottoman red.

Solomon immediately attracted the attention of the audience.

Some wishing to adore him,

and some wishing to do him harm.

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!

Tonight, you will be in the presence of a true musical genius.

In the presence of Komitas!

With his devoted hard work,

this native son of Anatolia has given wings to Armenian music.

He has sacrificed all of life's pleasures and conveniences.

He has spent his life in the villages,

deciphering the Armenian ancient musical system

revitalizing the true music of an entire people.

As a proud Turk, I have the utmost respect for this man's musical genius.

Unfortunately, we haven't yet been lucky enough

to have someone like this man to preserve Turkish music.

The truth is that the Armenian people

are at the forefront of our cultural enrichment.

The Armenian creative mind

has left its mark in all corners of the Ottoman Empire.

Of course, it's not his fault

he was born of Armenian blood and not Turk.

But he is fortunate - very fortunate -

that he was born in the glorious Ottoman Empire.

Long live the great Talaat Pasha!

Long live the Ottoman Empire!

Talaat Pasha, was one such villain, a serial murderer and madman.

On April 24, 1915,

Talaat Pasha ordered the arrest and deportation

of Armenian intellectuals in Istanbul,

all of whom were ultimately murdered.

My friend, Komitas, was one of those men that he arrested.

This concert was the perfect setup.

Maestro! It's time!

Koutina, Ottoman Empire 1881

When we first met, we were only just kids.

Music, to put it mildly,

was an obsession for us.

I am a Turk.

But my best friend, Sona, was an Armenian girl.

And then came Solomon,

and the music...

...connected us all.

Don't forget. Back straight, elbows up, fingers relaxed.

Like this?

Sona.

Coming.

I guess you would think it was strange that my closest friends were Armenians.

Sona and Solomon were Christian, and I was a Muslim.

But, as I said before,

this was a time before the hate had spread into people's hearts...

...like a cancer.

That's all for today.

Now it is time for Sevil to go home.

Sona, don't be late!

Okay, mom!

How do you know that melody?

That was the first time I saw him.

This kid was spying on our lesson.

Can you sing it again?

Sure.

This child has a holy voice!

Who is he?

The orphan singer.

What are you staring at? Kick it!

Wanna play with us?

Play? With us? Yeah, right! All he can do is sing!

Kick the ball! Show them you can do it!

Too bad your dad didn't teach you how to play ball before he died.

Stupid orphan!

Sing, orphan! Meow meow!

What did you just say?

Now the Armenian girl is protecting the street rat!

Sissy!

Shut your mouths, hooligans!

You're protecting this wretched Armenian scum?

Go ahead. Go ahead.

My dad says that all Armenians are going to pay soon enough

for betraying the Empire.

What's going on here?

What are you doing? Stop it!

Stop that!

Go home before I call your parents!

As for this boy, leave him alone.

Don't you know he's an orphan?

Don't you know?

Come here, little one.

Come.

Why are you crying?

It's not fair! It's not right!

What?

Life?

All the other kids have homes. Parents. They play games.

Solomon. Darling.

We can't change the past.

What is done, is done.

You think God has turned his back on you?

But he's given you something no one else in the world has.

What, Grandma? What?

Voice! He's given you voice!

You have the most beautiful voice in the world!

I know it. I feel it in my heart.

You were born to do great things.

All you need to do is believe.

You really think that?

I don't think...

I know!

How?

God told me.

He came to me one day in a dream,

and told me he will always be by your side.

Never lose your faith in God.

But also never lose faith in yourself.

Everything's going to be all right.

Everything.

You will see.

You will see!

Archbishop! Where are we going?

Archbishop!

God, give me strength. These orphans are unbearable!

Why won't you tell me where we're going?

We're going, father,

to find one of those "unbearable" orphans you speak of.

I don't understand!

There's nothing to understand.

I've just received a letter from the Holy See of Etchmiadzin.

The patriarch himself has asked me to find a child to study in the seminary.

A child that is blessed with a voice for singing.

Here?

You want to find that child here?

These children can barely speak properly, let alone sing in Armenian!

Who do you expect to find in this riff raff and rabble?

If you open your eyes wide, father,

and your heart...

you'll surely find what you are looking for.

A street urchin!?

Please tell me you're joking.

Enough, father!

Don't try my patience.

Don't be afraid, my child.

I know you sing.

Who taught you this skill?

No one.

I taught myself.

I listen, and I learn.

You have a natural talent, my son.

Archbishop, please rethink this decision.

You're right, father.

My job is to think.

Your job is to teach this boy our gospels.

Come with me, my child.

Fear not.

Take my hand.

That encounter with the Archbishop would change his life forever.

It would change all our lives forever.

I attended this last concert with deep concern.

I wanted to see my old friend...

...but my heart was filled with fear.

Maestro! It's your entrance.

Solomon!

Solomon!

I suppose the outside world is more interesting to you.

Something wrong, father?

This boy would rather listen to a peasant sing,

than learn the hymnal.

Silence!

I already know the hymnal!

Insolent child!

That's impossible. We've only gone over it once!

Out! Out of this church, liar!

Patience, father.

I'm not lying.

You say you know the hymnal?

Show us.

Seems that the boy was truthful, father.

Silence!

What are you doing here?

We've brought you yummy things!

For me?

But why?

So you can eat!

And sing better!

Hey, you girls! What are you doing here?

Know what I wish?

I wish I could give a big concert in a beautiful concert hall

in front of hundreds of people.

I wish I could get married,

have a big house and live in Paris.

What about you?

I wish I could see my mom. Just once.

Your mother?

She's very beautiful.

She died when I was little.

Grandma says that she was always sad, but that she loved to sing.

What about your father?

He died a few years ago.

Now all I have is my grandmother.

You have us!

Yeah, yeah! You have us!

Let's make a pact that we'll stay friends forever!

I swear!

I swear!

I swear!

Please don't be sad.

I'm going to miss him, too.

We're his friends.

We have to be happy that he will be studying at the seminary.

He'll finally be able to live a decent life.

Plus, you still have me!

Promise that you'll never leave. Promise we'll always be friends.

I promise, Sevil.

Will you write to us from the seminary?

Of course. If someone will bring them.

It's time to go.

You won't forget us, right?

Never.

13 Years Later

Koutina, Ottoman Empire 1894

I'm so happy you came. Let's dance!

Sevil, you know how much I love you.

You know I would go to the ends of the earth to see you,

to see your smile.

But I cannot allow you to continue living this way.

Live how?

These people may be good people,

but I warn you: stay away from these Armenians.

"These" Armenians?

"These" Armenians are my friends!

And I am your fiance!

You're still a child, Sevil.

You have no idea what's in store for them.

What are you saying?

The Armenian "situation" is about to explode,

and anyone close to them will also pay the price.

I don't understand.

You NEED to understand!

Sultan Hamid is a lunatic.

Every day we get telegrams from Constantinople.

There have been protests. Riots.

Osman.

This is a day of rejoicing.

If you're not going to celebrate with us, you should go.

But I would still like to dance with you.

Sona's never been so happy.

I can't believe you've returned after all these years.

When you were in the seminary...

did you miss Koutina?

If I knew I'd have to listen to this racket all day,

I'd have thought twice before marrying you.

It's not racket. It's Bach.

I'm sorry, but I won't be by your side tonight.

What?

Why not?

Don't fret.

You're going to shine tonight.

Osman!

Don't over practice before your concert. You'll ruin it.

They've called an emergency meeting.

I don't know what it's about, but I'm obliged to attend.

Osman, what meeting?

I can't say.

You can't say?

You can't ever tell me anything.

Calm down, Sevil.

I have a bad feeling about this. What aren't you telling me?

Don't worry yourself over nothing.

"Over nothing?"

You are the one who said Sultan Hamid is a lunat—

Sevil.

Today is a day of rejoicing.

Please be careful.

Why?

I worked on that for weeks.

What work? It's just an ordinary pot.

Yes, the pot is ordinary.

But the artwork on it is not.

Artwork?

What artwork?

Looks like scribbles to me.

It's not scribble.

They are Armenian ornaments.

Oh, you don't say.

Armenian ornaments?

A thousand apologies.

How much does it cost?

That one in particular is very expensive.

Approximately—

Oh, shit.

My apologies. A thousand apologies.

And this one?

Also expensive?

Damn.

This one fell, too.

I apologize.

I have a feeling this one will fall as well

if...

it is also expensive.

I apologize.

And now how much is all this trash worth?

You Armenians need to finally learn your place in this world.

You need to understand that there is no more...

No Armenian, no Armenia.

These lands are ours now.

There is only the Ottoman Empire.

Perhaps, if you Turks...

put a little effort into building your own culture

instead of destroying others,

you too would have something to be proud of.

But I'm afraid...

that's not going to happen.

Take a look at the tatters in your soldier's boots.

Is that not the extent of your culture?

Why don't you apologize for that?

Now, you listen to me.

I am Armenian.

And this is Armenia.

Sarkis?

Sarkis?

Yes, it's me.

Why are you so late?

Dinner is almost ready.

Did you remember to pick up the cradle?

Sarkis!

Sarkis, what happened?

What happened, Sarkis?

Turks?

I can't say.

Can't or won't?

Sona, calm down. Please. It's nothing.

The same thing happened last week in Simbat's shop.

People in the city are becoming restless.

There's no work, so they steal to make ends meet.

I'm okay, honey. I'm okay.

Don't cry.

I'm just sorry I couldn't pick up the baby's cradle.

I'm sorry I'm late, but I'm sure the concert went splendidly.

Where's Sarkis?

He isn't feeling well.

It's nothing. It'll pass.

I don't see Osman.

There was an emergency at work. He had to go.

Sevil, you look worried.

"Don't worry yourself over nothing."

What?

I said, don't worry everything's fine.

Yes. Everything's fine, Sevil.

I'm certain if Solomon saw your performance,

he would be very proud of you.

Any word from him?

He wrote me a few weeks ago.

He's in Tbilisi

studying with maestro Yekmalian.

I played an Armenian song tonight.

Solomon sent me the notes. He wrote them himself.

Too bad you weren't here to hear it.

Yes, too bad. But I'm sure you played marvelously.

See? The baby agrees!

Osman and I were planning to tell you tonight,

but I just can't wait anymore. I have to tell you.

We're also expecting!

I've called this secret meeting tonight

to reach a conclusion to the "Armenian situation".

This problem has increased from a headache

to a full grown cancer.

The Armenians must be removed.

Eradicated.

After which...

we will plant anew,

which will blossom,

and we will build

a great and prosperous empire.

Yes, that's right.

We have allowed them to attain and occupy

vital positions in our government,

govern banks.

They're in control of most business,

markets and manufacturing trades.

They even make as much as the common Turk, and they are infidels.

But, more importantly,

they are unfaithful to the Empire.

The recent events are proof of that.

I'm sure that you are all aware of what happened in Sasoun.

The Armenians are rioting against the government

and not only in Sasoun.

They are rioting everywhere.

Mr. General,

if I may interject.

The Armenians in Sasoun are protesting merely

in an attempt to preserve their civil rights.

A cry to end the looting and murder of their people by the savage Kurds.

Mr. Mayor,

from your words it sounds like you are siding with the Armenians.

I...

am siding with the truth.

Truth?

What truth?

The truth is...

the Armenians are spying for the Russians.

They're so naive

that they don't understand. They don't see

that the Russians, by provoking rebellion in the Armenian regions,

they are simply using the Armenians to create problems for Turkey.

And those...

rat Christians

have faith

that if the Russians defeat us

they will return to the Armenians, their "ancestoral" lands.

They will regret trusting the Russians for centuries to come.

That's enough.

This is a letter of order from the great Sultan Hamid II.

"Suppress the Armenian situation by any means necessary.

Even at the cost of blood."

We strip them of their weapons

and take by the will of Allah...

what is rightfully ours.

Only ours.

This is madness!

The Armenians are our friends.

We've lived with them in peace for centuries.

The Armenian people have always stood out

with their loyal service to the Ottoman civilization.

How do you not see, Mr. General?

By exterminating and eradicating the Armenian people,

you are forever removing from Turkey innovative thought.

Architecture.

Music.

Literature.

Any wealth the Armenians have acquired has been from honest work

like you have

or I have...

or any one of us has.

Silence, buffoon! You're no better than these Armenian rats!

How dare you speak to me that way, you cretin.

Silence!

Mr. Mayor...

please excuse him.

He merely wants to be certain that everyone in this room

is united in our decision.

I have prepared a letter of homage for all to sign,

a pledge of allegiance to our Sultan in Istanbul,

that we all support his decision.

Perhaps you should sign first, Mr. Mayor.

Please.

Please!

Captain.

Not feeling well?

I hope you weren't troubled by the General's speech.

No, I'm just not feeling very well today.

Needed some fresh air.

I heard you were married recently. Congratulations.

Thank you.

Just out of curiosity, Captain...

...what would you do if someone threatened your family?

For example, I...

what I would do?

I would strike down,

chew the throat out of...

any beast or man that did the threatening.

Some animals were born to live.

Some were born to die.

The same is true for people. Wouldn't you agree?

And some people were born to slither.

Colonel.

Tbilisi 1895

My dearest Solomon,

I hope this letter finds you well.

I write to you with fear in my heart.

Fear for Sona and Sarkis.

There are anti-Armenian riots all throughout the Empire,

and they have found their way to Koutina.

I fear the worst is yet to come.

We have to get Sona and Sarkis out of Koutina before it's too late.

Please don't return, for the time being.

As always, with love, Sevil.

Whatever happens, stay inside.

Do you hear me?

Stay here.

Sarkis Balian.

Have I done something wrong?

Or is simply being Armenian a crime now?

By order of Sultan Abdul Hamid II,

you are hereby under arrest

for the crime of treason against the Ottoman Empire.

Bastard.

Thank you.

Infidel!

Please, please. Have mercy!

Sona, go inside!

Let her go, you bastard!

Please don't take him.

He hasn't done anything.

Please.

Please.

I will return.

I will definitely return.

Tbilisi 1896

The mass destruction of Armenians.

Koutina, Ottoman Empire 1896

Any news of Sarkis?

We have to get her out of Koutina.

It's not safe here anymore.

Get a doctor!

I can't!

He'll report us for harboring an Armenian! They'll kill us all!

Then find someone you can trust!

God is great!

Death to Armenians!!!

Harutyun.

I'll name you Harutyun.

Thank you.

If you really want to thank me,

speak of this to no one.

I've already put myself and my family at risk for being here.

This baby is a blessing, Sona.

Promise me, that no matter what happens,

you will take care of Harutyun as your own son.

Don't say such things.

Everything's going to be fine.

Promise me.

You'll see.

Harutyun will grow to be a handsome young man.

Promise me, Sevil.

I swear.

I will be at his side until my final breath.

I hope I'm not interrupting, Captain. May I?

Of course.

Please.

Thank you.

Colonel, please this way.

Please.

You have a lovely home, Captain.

Thank you.

A bit dark though, wouldn't you say?

You play?

No. My wife.

Lovely. Lovely. Lovely.

I love music.

Would you please play something for us?

Please.

Please.

For example, this piece here.

Bach.

Marvelous. Just marvelous.

When I was a young boy, Captain,

I was dying to learn the piano.

But my father wouldn't allow it.

He would say, "Playing the piano is not a man's job."

May I try?

Luckily, my mother did not share my father's sentiment.

It seems as if this is a different piece.

It's beautiful.

Very beautiful.

What is it?

Kurdish?

Turkish?

Wait, wait, don't tell me.

Armenian.

Armenian music always did...

...stand out.

Do you have rats, Captain?

The traitor's whore.

The one we hanged from the town square.

His voice still echoes in my ear.

He was howling like a dog. Begging for his life.

I kept my promise to Sona.

It was all I had left to live for.

Her little one

and my little one.

I raised Harutyun as my own son...

...loving him the very same way

I loved my daughter.

That was the last time I saw him.

After his arrest, Komitas was deported to a prison camp deep in Anatolia.

There he witnessed the murder and execution of his closest friends.

The brightest minds of a nation

all extinguished in a single blow.

Komitas was spared by an influential patron of the arts.

But Komitas was never the same.

He disconnected from the world.

Never uttered another word.

Never wrote another piece of music.

Sad, hopeless and broken,

he would spend the remainder of his life

in an insane asylum.

You see, he wasn't mad

but rather gentle,

the kindest soul I'd ever known.

He saw beauty and music in everything,

and didn't understand how people could be so cruel.

So he closed his heart,

shut the world out,

and robbed it of his genius.

300.000 Armenians died during the Hamidian Massacres of 1894-1896.

Eventually, Sultan Hamid was overthrown, and Talaat Pasha came to power.

But the worst was yet to come…

On April 24, 1915, Talaat Pasha ordered for the arrest and deportation

of all Armenian intellectuals in Constantinople. Komitas was amongst them.

All of these individuals were ultimately murdered.

What started on April 24, 1915 continued on until

the Ottoman government had systematically exterminated 1.5 million Armenians.

Over the course of his lifetime, Komitas collected and preserved

thousands of Armenian, Turkish, and Kurdish folk music.

To this day, he is considered the founder and pioneer of ethnomusicology.

FOR ALL THE VICTIMS OF GENOCIDE AROUND THE WORLD