Lines Across Time: Istanbul, Old and New

CIVILNET
For most, a city is a place. For Levon Lachikyan, Istanbul became a pilgrimage—one rendered not in footsteps but in ink, flowing deliberately line by line.
An acclaimed Armenian illustrator and art critic with a poet’s sensitivity, Lachikyan embarked on a journey that spanned ten years, culminating in Istanbul, Old and New—a 128-page visual homage to a city where stone, silence, and spirit intertwine.
Born in Gyumri, a city with its own layered past, Lachikyan approached Istanbul not as a casual observer, but as someone bearing the weight of memory and wonder. His drawings are not just depictions; they are acts of remembrance. Every minaret, archway, and alleyway become a story told from the margins—through the eyes of an Armenian who sees echoes of both grandeur and grief in the fading architecture of a once-imperial city.
Driven by nostalgia and curiosity, his pen wandered through time as much as space. The result is not merely a collection of illustrations—it is a quiet meditation on loss, endurance, and beauty. Lachikyan captures Istanbul not in color but in emotion. The city unfolds in his monochrome palette, where each stroke seems to mourn the passing of time even as it celebrates the grace of survival.
Photo by Vartan Esenyan
Unlike photographers who chase the present, Lachikyan sought the soul of Istanbul—the traces of forgotten courtyards, the shadowed elegance of Byzantine and Ottoman forms, the spirit of a city layered in civilizations. His illustrations resist the urge to romanticize; instead, they reflect a delicate reverence. They do not shout. They whisper.
And in those whispers, one can hear the artist’s own story: of a Gyumri-born Armenian who chose to spend a decade walking Istanbul’s Street, not just to draw its walls and domes, but to feel the heartbeat beneath them.
When Levon Lachikyan held an exhibition in New York in 2011—sponsored by the Constantinople Armenian Relief Society (C.A.R.S.)—his illustrations of Gyumri and other cities drew a wide audience. Amid the crowd, one visitor posed a simple yet poignant question: “Where is our Istanbul?” The words lingered, stirring something profound within Lachikyan. Encouraged by friends in the Armenian diaspora, he felt a growing urge to seek out and capture the spirit of a city where traces of Armenian culture quietly endured through the passage of time.
Before setting foot on the cobblestone streets of old Istanbul, Lachikyan was struck by a haunting realization: the city wore a veil of sadness, and its color was black. This sense of melancholy resonated so deeply that it confirmed his instinct to work in monochrome. Brown ink became his chosen language—lines and shadows, his way of speaking memory, loss, and time.
Only later, upon discovering Nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk’s Istanbul: Memories and the City, did Lachikyan find his intuition echoed in words. Pamuk’s reflections on the city’s hüzün—its distinct, storied melancholy—affirmed what Lachikyan had long felt but hadn’t yet read: that Istanbul’s soul is drawn in sorrow, and best captured without color.
Photo by Vartan Esenyan
Beginning in 2013, Lachikyan made several extended visits to Istanbul, each time immersing himself in the city’s layered history. With meticulous care and quiet devotion, he sketched for months at a time, capturing every architectural nuance, every forgotten corner—translating the soul of the city into 107 hauntingly beautiful illustrations.
Each time Levon walked through the historic streets of Istanbul, he placed his steps with reverence—careful not to tread over the invisible footprints of Krikor Zohrab, Taniel Varoujan, and countless other Armenian intellectuals who once called the city home. He carried with him a quiet pride in the legacy of the Balian family, five generations of master architects who, between the 18th and 19th centuries, shaped the skyline of Istanbul—designing palaces, mosques, and churches, and in doing so, helping to transform the city into a vibrant Armenian cultural capital.
Reflecting on his artistic journey, Levon recalls:
“My first visit to Kınalı Island—one of the four Princes’ Islands in the Sea of Marmara—was a turning point. It was there, in the country of Rev.Father Komitas, birthplace of Zabel Asadour, Zahrad, and Hagop Mintsuri, that I truly felt the scent of Cleric Armenian culture. It was as if their spirit guided my hands as I drew. At that moment, I understood Istanbul in its fullest form—both the old and the new, the past and the present, coexisting in quiet harmony.”
Meeting the legendary photographer Ara Güler in Istanbul marked a turning point in Lachikyan’s artistic journey. Güler, often referred to as the “Eye of Istanbul,” not only encouraged him to persevere with his project but also offered a powerful source of inspiration. Through Güler’s lens, Lachikyan saw the city with renewed clarity—its moods, its textures, its soul—and found the encouragement he needed to carry his work to completion. In many ways, the eye of Güler helped open the hand of Lachikyan.
Lachikyan often felt a deep sadness when comparing old photographs of Istanbul to the city’s present-day reality. Towering modern constructions encroaching upon historic landmarks—churches, public squares, and centuries-old streets—seemed to blur the identity of the city he sought to capture. In his drawings, he chose to filter out the intrusive and the inauthentic, focusing instead on the enduring beauty of what remained. For him, preserving the soul of the old city meant rendering it as it was—and as it still is, beneath the surface.
Before illustrating the many landmarks of Istanbul—its churches, mosques, palaces, and fortresses—Lachikyan immersed himself in their history, ensuring that every stone, every ornament was rendered with meticulous accuracy. As he sketched, he felt the passage of time in the play of light and shadow, capturing not just the structure, but the soul of each site. With an artist’s instinct for harmony, he even “repaired” broken roofs and windows in his drawings, gently restoring what time had taken, so that each image might reflect a unified and timeless vision of the city.
“Lachikyan’s lines and especially his colors provide an inexplicable charm for those who have never visited Gyumri or Istanbul. Of course, creating a color effect in a black and white painting is a special talent for the artist. Lachikyan achieves this fascinating color harmony with shadow plays. With the strong and delicate touches of the pen, a monochrome acacia suddenly blooms or the skyscrapers press on the city’s panorama with their grayish glamour” notes Pakrat Estukyan editor of Agos weekly newspaper from Istanbul, praising Lachikyan’s talent.
Lachikyan’s book was published in 2024 by the Armenian Patriarchate of Turkey—a gesture for which he expresses profound gratitude. At the heart of that support was His Beatitude Patriarch Sahak II (Mashalian), whose encouragement proved instrumental in bringing the project to fruition.
“We know that the works of Armenian artists are appreciated by Armenian intellectuals in Armenia,” Patriarch Sahak II wrote in his remarks for the book. “However, the fruits of Levon Lachikyan’s art come from Armenia and are appreciated in Istanbul. We are confident that those same fruits will be embraced by Turkish and international audiences as well, once they turn the pages of his work and discover the beauties of Istanbul it reveals.”