I first visited Yerevan in 2010 and returned in 2014, which a relatively short time. But a lot changed over that brief period from a variety of angles based on modernization and modernity, including some aspects mentioned or implied by the famous French poet, Charles Baudelaire in “The Painter of Modern Life and Other Essays”.

Dandies, for instance, are noticeable in places like Northern Avenue and indoor shopping centers like Dalma Garden Mall and Yerevan Mall. These locations themselves signify a shift from traditional markets to Western-style malls, again a form of modernization. Except the dandies found here are mostly female unlike the males found in Baudelaire’s writing.

These women strut with class and confidence with a slight swagger to attract attention. They pose in coffee shops and on park benches with elegance, upright without a hint of rounded backs from slouching, appearing to observe the world pass by but in actuality attract attention due to their unique looks and poise. Some of their clothes appear expensive and thus of high quality. Others appear torn and tattered yet still pricey. Some women are immaculately groomed too, as one might expect with legs milkier white than the dairy inside their cappuccinos. Others appear almost Gothic and unkempt with their dark nails and lipstick, yet somehow that means they too are groomed.

Baudelaire says dandies have “a personal form of originality, within the external limits of social conventions” (p. 108). In Yerevan, many have different shades of dyed hair, and wear short dresses or skirts, revealing tops, tattered jeans, t-shirts with swear words printed on, and more. This kind of fashion is certainly an “opposition and revolt,” in this case against conservatism and traditions (p. 108).

This kind of fashion is certainly an “opposition and revolt,” in this case against conservatism and traditions (p. 108). When I first came to Yerevan in 2010, I do not remember this kind of dress.

In fact, I stuck out like a swollen leg wearing shorts at a time when few males did (I could count the number I saw on one hand). Now at university, I look odd for wearing jeans when most males I see are now wearing shorts. How times change!

It seems the dress code has become more open and socially acceptable and thus more modern as it has elsewhere in places like Europe. Though some of the older generation who reproach females for dressing in such ways might disagree.

In 2010, Northern Avenue was still under construction. What was there made me feel like I was in a European city, a great example of modernization. But then again, why? Why go the European route in terms of architecture when Armenian culture has its own distinct architectural cues that could have been used?

Indeed many new constructions are still being built to create “modern” buildings across Yerevan, but many locals describe them as “monstrosities” as they ruin the view of Ararat and the city too. In Research Methods we read Ter-Ghazaryan’s paper, “‘Civilizing the city center’: symbolic spaces and narratives of the nation in Yerevan’s post-Soviet landscape,” which explains the conflict between modernization and building a national identity through architecture, as well as between the political elite and residents.

This conflict is similar to that described by Baudelaire in describing how artists depict the new “in the dress of the past,” which in Yerevan’s case signifies the mentality of the historical reliance on and admiration of Europe. It also signifies internal conflicts on how the past should influence the future, which politicians view differently than citizens. Baudelaire implies one can gain inspiration from present and past, so the development of a new, modern, and distinctly Armenian architecture based on its unique past would make more sense in terms of modernizing the city (p. 107).

Indeed, a perfect example of this unity between new and old can be seen at Zvartnots Airport. When I arrived in 2010, the new airport was part-finished. The old airport with its Soviet influence had overdone its useful life, as its capacity, usability, lack of space, and style had become outdated.

When I left a few weeks later the check-in was in the old airport. But after the security I entered the newly built departures area. It was like I left the 1980s and teleported instantly into the 2010s.

I think that is a perfect example of the transformation and modernization Yerevan has undergone. When I returned to Armenia in 2014, everything was new. Unlike Dalma, Yerevan Mall, or Northern Avenue, the airport did not remind me of Dubai or Europe or the West. It was unique to me despite its European-style usability and contemporary style, because it somehow captures the warmth of Armenian hospitality representing past and present.

Baudelaire says, “He gazes at the landscape of the great city, landscapes of stone, now swathed in the mist, now struck in full face by the sun” (p. 105). To me, Baudelaire is revealing the contrast between old and new as Paris was being torn down (“the mist” that resembles the past) and reconstructed for the modern (the light of the “sun”).

In Yerevan, there is a mix of pre-Soviet, Soviet, and post-Soviet buildings. Cranes construct crude monstrosities with little or no architectural connection with other structures. Yet, buildings can look old outside but be entirely renovated inside, kind of like Yerevan and Armenia itself. Then again, many old buildings have air conditioning units hanging outside them as symbols of modernity.

Old green and white electric trolley buses have largely been replaced by modern, bright purple buses complete with air suspension and air-conditioning. Old and now pale Soviet cars converted into taxis attempt to shatter the space-time continuum by fighting over the same space of road as brand new white and shiny Yandex taxis with neither willing to yield. Some aspects modernize and some may never change.

Other technology has drastically changed Yerevan, however, like communication. In 2010, 3G was the fastest mobile connection and fiber optic connections were relatively new. Today, 4G is accessible from almost anywhere with fiber optic connections woven under the city and into almost all buildings.

My laptop’s WiFi currently shows 13 Ucom WiFi networks and thus fiber optic connections available. In 2015, public TV broadcasts switched from analogue to digital, a perfect symbol of modernization.

Armenian and Russian advertising can be seen everywhere while English branding, a sign of modernity in terms of tourism and globalization, has become more common too. The country’s largest supermarket chain, Yerevan City, uses its name pronounced in English though written with the Armenian alphabet, for example. Baudelaire’s fascination with the advertiser whom he calls an artist, M.G., leaves room for comparison with Yerevan’s advertising. Some is garish and appealing while others are bold and inspiring, almost works of art.

Then there’s trash collection too (when it used to happen). Old Soviet trucks that required manual filling by hand were replaced by modern trucks, some capable of lifting trash automatically through cranes to whisk them away. Then again, the old trash bins were solid metal that were replaced by cheap plastic garbage ones, signs of modernity yes, but not necessarily a good change. 

I find it fascinating how Baudelaire’s concepts and ideas of modernity and modernization can be seen in Yerevan today. When I visited Lisbon in 2018, I cannot see anywhere near as much resemblance, because it is has been mostly modernized and amalgamated with its past.

Yerevan is very much learning and adapting to how modernization can be achieved. The city still bears its Soviet roots. Much has been modernized from fashion to buildings to transportation, but large parts of the city still remain symbols of its Soviet past. Perhaps this article’s image reveals more than words can express. But to me, Yerevan is still in a transitory period toward modernization like that of Baudelaire’s Paris and its inhabitants.

Photo by Artak Petrosyan on Unsplash