Elia   Kahvedjian's   adept   fingers   could tease    the    strings    of    his    banjo    and mandolin   into   seductive   dances   and renditions,     just     as     skillfully     and felicitously    as    they    could    coax    his treasured   Hasselblad   and   Leica   into turning    out    irresistible    photographic compositions.         A   legend   in   his   time,   the   mild- mannered   Armenian   photographer   of Jerusalem,     survived     a     horrendous ordeal     of     starvation,     torture     and genocide,   and   a   run   in   with   nefarious cannibals,    by    dint    of    sheer    guts, determination   and   luck,   to   leave   an indelible     imprint     on     the     cultural history of the Holy City.         Until   today,   his   odyssey   from   the   killing   fields   of   Urfa,   the   erstwhile mystical   outpost   on   the   ancient   Silk   Road,   through   the   death   marches   in the   desert   of   Syria   that   became   drenched   in Armenian   blood,   to   eventual sanctuary   in   Jerusalem,   had   been   available   told   only   in   Armenian   in   a book published in Yerevan, Armenia, in 1995.          But    thanks    to    the    efforts    of    his    son    Harout,    urged    on    by    the indefatigable   journalist   and   editor,   Jirayr   Tutunjian,   we   now   have   an English translation in our hands.         Despite   entreaties   from   his   children,   he   had   refused   to   publish   the torrential   volume   of   photographs   he   had   taken   over   the   70   years   he   had wielded    various    camera:    the    ones    he    began    with,    the    wieldy    post- Daguerreotype      contraptions      with      their      cumbersome      glass-plate negatives,   until   he   graduated   to   sample   the   delights   and   perceptions   of German ingenuity.         "Not   now,"   he   would   tell   the   persistent   Harout.   "Maybe   later.   If anything   happens   to   me,   you   know   exactly   where   the   negatives   are.   You know   what   my   plan   is.   Maybe   someday   you   and   your   brother   [Kevork] will   work   together   and   publish   [them]   in   a   book   form.   I   leave   these negatives to my children."         The   English   version   of   the   autobiography   of   the   man   dubbed   the   last survivor   of   the   Armenian   genocide,   is   entitled   "From   the   Red   Desert   to Jerusalem." A   labor   of   love   and   devotion   from   Harout,   the   300-page   book he   has   edited   and   published   is   a   gripping   narrative,   lavishly   embellished with choice specimens of the master's art.         This   is   a   harrowing   narrative,   with   its   depiction   of   the   depredation of predatory barbarians: not easy fare for the squeamish.       It had to be told.          Harout's    mellifluous    translation    from    the    Armenian    into    English makes    for    easeful    if    painful    reading,    his    sensitive    and    informative colophons   indicative   of   the   veneration   in   which   he   holds   his   father,   and the   great   pains   he   has   taken   to   put   the   tale   into   a   proper   perspective, with frequent forays into historical background.         His   portraiture   of   Elia   depicts   him   as   a   gentle,   affectionate   father who   was   never   happier   than   when   he   was   surrounded   by   his   wife   and children.         "He   always   had   time   for   us,   no   matter   what,   even   when   he   came home   from   work,   after   punishingly   long   hours,   tired   and   hungry,   he would always play with us," Harout reminisces.         Strumming   his   banjo   or   mandolin,   he   would   forget   for   a   moment   the pain and suffering of the past.       Elia had lost his childhood when he was 5.         "His   eyes   had   seen   more   misery   than   anyone   could   imagine.   In   his young    life,    he    had    become    witness    to    such    horror,    death    and destruction,"   but   none   of   his   terrible   experiences   affected   the   great capacity for love that resided in his heart.         He   began   his   photographic   career   at   the   age   of   14,   working   long hours,   six   days   a   week,   for   Jerusalem's   prestigious   Hanania   family.   But eventually,   he   took   over   the   business   and   transformed   it   into   a   lodestone for camera and photo buffs.         Elia's   chronicles   inevitably   evoke   comparison   with   Franz   Werfel's popular    book    about    the   Armenian    massacres,    "The    40    Days    of    Musa Dagh."   In   painstaking   detail,   Elia   pays   tribute   to   the   heroic   resistance   of the   Armenians   of   Urfa   who,   subjected   though   they   were   to   daily   and sometimes   hourly   abuse   at   the   hands   of   the   Turks,   managed   to   hold   off the   hordes   armed   with   ramshackle   weaponry   and   depleted   ammunition, succeeding    in    resisting    repeated    onslaughts    and    even    springing    an ambush   on   advancing   Turkish   troops   and   forcing   their   withdrawal,   before being overwhelmed by superior forces and armor.         Elia   pulls   no   punches   and   uses   no   euphemisms:   the   Turks   were demoniacally   determined   to   eradicate   the   Armenian   entity   from   their history.         Defeated   and   captured,   the   surviving   Armenians,   with   little   Elia   in tow,   were   hustled   into   the   red   desert   of   Syria   along   the   notorious   Deir Zor   trail   that   decimated   thousands.   Many   would   drop   down   by   the   road, never   to   get   up   again.   And   Elia   would   live   to   witness   one   atrocity   after another:   never   in   his   life   would   be   forget   the   sight   of   the   mounted Turkish   soldier   as   he   swung   his   sabre   and   decapitated   a   little   hungry   boy who had the temerity to ask for some water.         "It   [the   head]   fell   with   a   dull   thud   on   the   ground,   rolled   several times and came to a stop a few paces from where we were," Elia recalls.         At   one   stage   during   his   odyssey,   Elia   was   picked   up   by   a   Kurd   who, despite   treating   him   with   unaccustomed   kindness   and   gentleness,   in   turn sold him to an Assyrian Christian family.         Eventually,   Elia   would   end   up   in   an   orphanage,   before   anchoring himself in the final stop, Jerusalem.          Elia    retired    in    1993,    after    his    fruitful    career    documenting    the delights   and   despair   of   Jerusalem.   According   to   Harout,   he   "probably took   more   photographs   of   Jerusalem   and   the   Holy   Land   than   anybody else. Several of his memorable pictures ended up as tourist postcards.         Lionized   and   honored   in   his   adopted   new   home,   Elia   never   forgot   his hometown and recalls how fond of life his community had been.         "They   enjoyed   social   gatherings   and   parties.   According   to   centuries old   customs,   every   Saturday   evening   families   of   the   same   profession   or trade   gather3ed   in   the   house   of   one   of   their   colleagues   and   partied   till the morning hours."         Urfa   was   no   provincial   backwater.   Harout   reminds   us   that   it   is   one   of the   oldest   cities   in   the   Middle   East.   Located   in   southeastern   Turkey,   it lies   between   the   Euphrates   and   the   Tigris   rivers,   at   a   distance   of   only   50 km   from   the   Syrian   border.   Down   the   centuries,   it   has   been   variously called   Orfa,   Ourha   and   Edessa   and   had   once   been   the   capital   of   the Hurrian-Mitonian kingdoms.         But   the   years   have   not   been   kind   to   it,   its   demise   culminating   in   the devastation   of   1915   that   transmogrified   its   idyllic   way   of   life   into   a quagmire of blood.         "From   the   Red   Desert   to   Jerusalem"   joins   the   growing   library   of testimony   against   man's   inhumanity   to   man   weighed   against   the   courage and   endurance   of   the   weak   and   disinherited   in   the   face   of   oppression, and the indomitable will to overcome.         And   one   man's   determination   to   have   the   grace   not   to   let   affliction and    adversity    cripple    him,    but    to    dig    down    deep    into    his    soul    and uncover   and   nurture   the   golden   core   of   genius   he   has   been   endowed with, unclouded by the dark forces of evil.         The   publication   of   the   book   will   be   marked   with   a   special   event   to be held in Glendale, California, on December 6.        (Nov 16, 2014)