
Murjoun / USA, Armenia
Murjoun is a non-binary DJ and artist from the US, ethnically Armenian. Their parents immigrated from Armenia to the US in the 80s, where Murjoun lives today. They’re a founder of of The Hye-Phen, in their words, “a self-published baby zine” focused on the representation of Ameninan queer culture. In this interview and a mix for LVBZ Murjoun is sharing their story through the prism of creativity as well as cultural and gender identity.
Hi! Please introduce yourself: what’s your artist name, who are you, where are you and what are you?
Barev, I’m Sevan. I’m a non-binary Armenian multidisciplinary artist and designer constantly trying to feel like I belong in this world and in my body. I make music under the name hiding boy and DJ as Murjoun (which means ant in Armenian).
What are your biggest achievements that we should be absolutely aware of?
I grew up in an environment that was pretty unstable in a lot of ways. I didn’t do well in high school and college wasn’t on my radar. When I was 18, I broke into acting and modeling and quickly made a good amount of money doing it. At that time I had gotten into one university that accepted almost everyone who applied and I was stoked. I chose to go to school instead of acting and learned for the first time that I love learning and eating. In the end I climbed up the ladder of academia, getting a degree in Technocultural Studies from UC Davis and then an MFA from the NYU Game Center and now I can make games and teach others how to make them.
Why games?
Play is powerful and I’d like to be more playful. With digital games, I can create new worlds that other people can explore, and often you can make them for free. I like the process of thinking in systems, exploring new and multiple mediums, and I also get along with game designers. There’s still a lot to explore.
I’m also inspired by the community of queer folks who make tiny games, and in general the idea of creating something beautiful with almost nothing- making beats with pirated software, making games and worlds with unity or pen and paper, or making a house with your hands and your siblings. I teach a class called ‘Beyond Games’ and for a large part of it we look at non-traditional games and artists and activists who use play as their medium, and I’ve gotten a lot of inspiration from Dadaists, Situationists (Guy Deboard) and Fluxus artists including Yoko Ono. I think play is really powerful and it’s always something I try to incorporate in my work, especially since it’s also dark.
How did you start the queer web magazine The Hye-Phen?
It was definitely hard growing up as an Armenian-American and as a queer and trans person within that community, which almost felt like two different things. There was no sense of racial congruence, and there still isn’t. I’ve had to constantly ask myself if I’m white or not-white, and that answer changes all the time based on context and people on Twitter. The way that I’ve been able to offer myself peace is to know that we’re queer, defiantly undefinable, between two worlds. That is exactly how I feel about my gender and sexuality, which are constantly shifting in a world that wants to easily define it. That’s the logic that started The Hye-Phen at a time when it wasn’t easy to talk about. To me it felt like a community of Armenians who didn’t feel Armenian and finding them has been one of the most precious things for me. Things have obviously changed since then because of Instagram specifically, and I hope that we’re able to form genuine, empathetic connections with each other moving forward. I hope that the future can be nourishing and that we can find ways of building communities beyond ourselves and the devices we live through.
How has queer culture developed and been perceived in your region? Have you seen any shift over the past years?
It’s definitely shifted over the past decade. I started The Hye-Phen because when I was 21 I legitimately thought I was the only queer Armenian on earth, except for someone in an ASL class I took in Glendale. The surprise was profound when I discovered that we’re everywhere, scattered around the world. Today it seems easier than ever to find queer Armenian folks, which is totally beautiful, but there’s been less incentive to form bonds, especially when identity has become digitally marketable. Saying this feels like saying ‘I had to go to the library to find this one piece of information that you just looked it up in seconds with that thing in your pocket’ but it’s true.
Let’s speak about music. What has influenced you the most?
I’ll always be a Radiohead fanboy. They encapsulate what I'm most drawn to, regardless of the genre, which is a special, nuanced kind of sadness, longing and vulnerability that makes you feel like you're lost somewhere in the ocean. I feel like that's been my life and where I'm at. I can't listen to Radiohead frequently because it's so sad. I'm interested in how artists deal with expressing their sadness in subtle, real, idiosyncratic ways. I've been listening to XXXTENTACION lately and feel like he was a genius and a reincarnated Radiohead. Anyways, I've been aware of the fact that all of the producers who've influenced me growing up have been men and half of them are british- Flying Lotus, James Blake, Kanye (yes), Susumu Yokota, Sabzi, Moby, Aphex Twin, Jon Hopkins, Jamie XX (and most recently newwave and music before the 90s). That made me want to produce. But I’m glad that list has been changing so much over the years and not just a bunch of bros, because how limiting was that.
What’s your perception of Armenian music?
Armenian melodies are embedded into me and seep out when I play anything, but I’ve always been traumatized by Armenian pop songs. They’re supposed to be celebratory and in contrast with traumatic duduk-based folk that remind us of erasure, but for me it reminds me of weddings and being at one and I suddenly clench and dissociate and get very uncomfortable in my body. I end up feeling more alienated from my culture than feeling part of it. I wish that I had that easy relationship with it, and love to work towards somehow reclaiming that.
In general how music & culture from your region is different from other parts of the world?
The Armenian diaspora is a big beautiful mess of scattered seeds as a direct result of the genocide. We’ve grown in pockets and formed new dialects based on those places, redefining what being Armenian means. There are sub-armenian cultures, made up of folks who come from different countries, mostly from ‘the middle east’ (many come with their own set of stereotypes). Also, lots of our cultural documentation has been lost so it feels like we’re constantly rebuilding ourselves and our knowledge. It seems like in LA no one can pin us down racially, so we’re all having a good time. We’ve adapted around / adopted a new culture. And our community is so strong that System of a Down made most Armenians very into metal.
Tupac’s Armenian eyebrows. Mother Mary tattoos. Shawarma. Everything.
What are you trying to tell with your music and mixes?
I’ve always used music as an outlet to process the world and shit happening around me and I’ve done this forever. Acknowledging sadness and confusion and loss on a grand scale and making fun of it. I’ve recorded a lot of random conversations with family and people I meet, like a diary. But I’m also a doubtful person who isn’t good at branding myself (I’ve changed artist / personal names so many times, whatever) so I think that might make my music good. I just have so much of it that I haven’t shared.
Another thing I strive to do is create moments in which people can feel comfortable, even if the music is dissonant, and I think that’s what play does, it makes fun of itself.
Who would be an artist/DJ of all times you’d like a collaboration with?
Leonard Cohen, so he could wrap me in his arms and adopt me; Euguen Hutz, so we can stare distantly at each other without talking; and Thom Yorke so I can understand how he functions.
Please describe your mix: what is your story in words, which you tried to reflect in music?
Currently listening to it, there is no chill. It’s brutal and chaotic but also playful, probably reflecting the state I was in then more than I’d wanted to. My intention was to tell the story of my family prior to moving to the US in contrast to how we exist now- how the energy shifts over time, and how it’s felt to grow up here.
What’s your favourite track in the mix?
I think “New York Boston” by Robert Chilingirian. It’s special and encapsulates the story I wanted to share in a very playful and optimistic way. It captures how some immigrants anticipate moving to the US and how they might falsely idolize it.
What is the best location and setting to listen to your mix?
Initially, I was wanting the setting to be: crying or driving alone at night in Glendale., or staring out of a bus window. But now, I don’t know. There’s a lot of pure rage here.
Which moment is the most touching/emotional moment in your mix and why?
The first few minutes. It starts with an old audio recording I had of my mom watching a dramatic Turkish soap opera and talking to me about how not to wear the scarf she made. After that I played Dear Mama by Tupac, only for a few seconds. That was gold for me, and I felt seen.
Name 3 artists from your playlist which we should pay attention to and why?
All of them :) The song Hingala is special to me. My dad used to play it on the piano, and I’ve been trying to find that song since.
Anything else you want us to tell?
I hope our digital futures look like the opposite of instagram / the metaverse, and that we can have autonomy over how the platforms we use every day are designed because they've literally changed everything. I often dream of moving to the 90s and staying there, of never knowing this reality. I'm genuinely scared of moving into this future and giving away my control to it. We deserve better than Instagram and a future that isn't designed by white male techno-capitalists. I hope there are ways we can learn / remember to remain human. I'm sorry.
Enjoy a fine selection of local tracks which Murjoun has kindly selected for LVBZ.