Tell us a bit about yourself - all the basics! Where you’re from, where you grew up, interests, hobbies, siblings, causes you’re passionate about, anything else that comes to mind…

I was born and raised in a small village in Armenia, founded by my maternal ancestors. To me, that village is the most vivid and magical place on earth, where the best years of my life unfolded. The scent of my childhood is woven from the smoke of the tonir (clay oven), the damp earth, and my grandmother’s hands... it is a place where time stood still.

For me, childhood is a different kind of "vision"—it is when you look at the world with your heart. All my childhood memories are intertwined with the people of that village and the hardships that, in the end, tempered and shaped me into the individual I am today.

How did you become interested in film?

My interest in cinema was born in childhood thanks to my uncle, who is a film director. I vividly remember the days we spent in the village awaiting his arrival. He was a singular figure—pensive and quiet. He could walk through the rooms of our house for hours, completely immersed in his thoughts. That image of him stayed with me: a restless, contemplative man who felt he had a serious mission in this world.

How did you arrive at the subject of your Close Up project?

For ten years, I have been working with teenagers, teaching filmmaking at the TUMO Center for Creative Technologies in Armenia—a center that is free for all youth. I met my protagonist at the center. Seryozha would come there to study, but he also gathered herbs from the mountains to sell for tea.

I had asked Seryozha for some herbs, and the moment we met, I realized I wanted to film him. I can’t quite explain it—his sincerity and his gentle bashfulness completely captivated me.

"Close Up" entered my life at the exact moment I felt I most needed help and guidance to move forward. I am infinitely grateful that the "Rough Cut" stage of my project took place here. The professional advice and support I have received—and continue to receive—are irreplaceable.

If you weren’t a filmmaker, what might you be? What did you want to do or be growing up?

If I weren't a filmmaker, I would still be a filmmaker. Over time, I have realized a simple truth: when I am not filming, when I am not creating, I am simply not happy.

Although I am a fiction film director by profession and have previously filmed short fiction projects, this is my documentary debut. I transitioned to documentary because my hero’s personal story moved me so deeply; it forced me to return to and reflect upon my own childhood.

What has influenced your work as a filmmaker the most? A person, an educator, another filmmaker, a film itself, an experience, etc.?

In my life, the human factor is decisive. There are individuals who appeared at the right time and predetermined my path:

Edgar Baghdasaryan: My professor, whose character and principle of never betraying one's own values I have always admired. I deeply miss our long conversations about "emotional silence" in art films.

Aram Mehrabyan: A man whose depth and essence are a constant source of motivation. If anyone asks who I consider my true teacher, I would confidently name Aram Mehrabyan.

If you could have coffee with any filmmaker, living or dead, who would it be and why?

I always live by the motto: "I know only one thing, that I know nothing." Because of that, I would have loved to talk with Socrates.

However, if I had the chance to share a coffee with a filmmaker, I would choose my own Master. I would want to simply talk about life, values, and the questions that unsettle us. I would want to just hug him and say thank you for the best years of my life.