All language subtitles for Gurdjieff in Armenia

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When I recall my childhood in Armenia during the 1870s, I see the image of my father,

whose inference left its trace on my whole life.

His reputation as a poet and storyteller spread far and wide through other many countries of transgochezier and a schminer.

His extraordinary and mysterious stories aroused in me the desire to become like the legendary heroes of these tales,

and introduced in my essence an aspiration towards high ideals.

When I was ten and attending the Greek school, my grandmother insisted, in life, never do others do.

Either do something nobody else does or do nothing at all, just go to school.

I was chosen to sing in the choir of the Russian Orthodox Cathedral in Karos.

The dean considered me particularly gifted, although my family had destined me for the priesthood,

but you advised them to have me study medicine as well.

According to him, the duties of a priest went hand in hand with those of a doctor for the body and solar connected.

He suggested that I'd be taken out of school for I was wasting my time there.

He became my first tutor, but entrusted me to other teachers for certain disciplines.

As for me, I dreamt of specializing in a technical field.

For my earliest childhood, I like to make and repair all sorts of things in my father's workshop.

I quickly required my own clientele.

My father had no business sense.

He said that one should love work for its own sake and not for gain.

The younger a gift is witness to certain supernatural phenomena which leads him to question the meaning and purpose of life.

He searches out those who can answer his question and he reads all the books he can find.

I made a pilgrimage to the Armenian Holy City of Hitchmelzin.

I also visited numerous sacred places,

attached to different beliefs.

I was passionately interested in archaeology and explored the ruins of lost cities.

My research convinced me that there truly was something known to man in the past and that this forgotten knowledge could have been preserved within certain communities.

At the age of 22, Gurjiv settles in Tiflis, the capital of Georgia.

He works as an interpreter in the construction of a railway through the valleys of the Caucasus.

The local authorities offer him large commissions to arrange for the railway line to pass through their towns.

In this way he builds up enough money to undertake his first long journey.

He travels through Syria dressed as a Caucasian tata.

In Jerusalem he earns his living as a tourist guide for foreigners, mostly Russians.

My research next led me to Egypt where I continued to act as a guide.

In my free time I tried to understand the intention of those who had built this monument.

What meaning did they transmit across thousands of years?

At the pyramids I met Professor Skridlov, an archaeologist with a rigorous scientific mind.

And his friend, Prince Lubovetsky, who devoted himself to the study of religions.

Like them I was full of questions about the deep meaning of being and the aim of life.

The three of us formed the nucleus of the brotherhood of seekers of truth.

The interest was shared in common, created a real bond between us.

Each one studied with the methods of his own discipline.

But we soon came to the conclusion that to attain our goal we must share our experiences with other seekers.

And so I'm going to monasteries where rituals going back to the origins of Christianity are still being practiced.

In Constantinople, Gerjef visits the brotherhoods of various dervish orders.

I went to Mecha and Medina in the hope of elucidating certain questions which I considered essential.

But I did not find the answers I was searching for.

I concluded that from the outset all the elements of the sacred doctrines of Islam had been concentrated in Bohááá.

There I decided to withdraw into complete isolation to meditate seriously on my situation and future course of action.

I then understood that the answers to the questions that were tormenting me could only come from contemplative thought arising from the subconscious.

I worked unceasingly in search of objective truth both by myself and among those belonging to the seekers of truth, men of the higher sculpture.

To provide the necessary means for my research I opened a traveling repair shop which was very successful throughout the Transgaspian region.

Making use of all the experimental means made available to me by contemporary civilization in particular the signs of hypnotism.

I concluded that three types of associations stick place in man, thought, feeling and motor instinct.

I was now capable of treating through hypnosis the mentally ill, alcoholics and drug addicts.

I could also bring relief to those suffering from pain.

Several years passed full of adventures, dangers, encounters and traumas.

Some of the seekers give up the search others die accidentally.

I was seriously wounded myself on several occasions.

On these long voyages of discovery there was as much to learn along the way as there was an arrival.

In the course of one periless expedition in the heart of Central Asia, I came into contact with a universal brotherhood where all the members, whatever the religion, were united by God's truth.

In the universe all is one, only the scale differs.

In the infinitely small we find the same laws as in the infinitely large.

From the first ages of mankind all religions affirm that man was created by God in his image.

Man's inner structure is able to engender and manifest properties of a divine nature.

I then took the decision to concentrate all the forces of my inner world in order to undertake a sacred dusk.

To share with my contemporaries my research on the possibilities given by the Creator.

To be financially independent, Gergyev throws himself into all sorts of businesses.

He manages fisheries, oil wells.

But the trade I preferred by far was dealing in carpets and antiques, which as well as being very profitable, gave me free time and allowed me to choose where I lived.

I continued my research into the unconscious and led several groups of people interested in my experiments.

After four or five years of strenuous labor I liquidated all my fears and in 1912 I settled in Moscow.

I gave a series of lectures which attracted numerous intellectuals and scientists.

Man has a complex structure. In the colorful language of certain Eastern teachings man bears a similarity to a horse-drawn coach consisting of a carriage, a horse and a driver.

The carriage corresponds to the body, the horse to the emotions and desires, the driver to thought.

But the passenger sitting in the carriage instead of being the master and body in consciousness and will is now nothing more than the first passerby.

Deprived of a master, contemporary man is in the grip of a coachman half asleep, half drunk and lost in dead dreams.

The horse has grown up like a mistreated orphan. He is ready to offer himself to anyone who gives him the slightest caress.

As for the carriage, intended by nature to ride on bumpy roads, it has little by little adapted itself to city streets.

But from lack of maintenance it is in danger of breaking up at the first cholt.

It is only when a man begins to understand that he has not the slightest power over himself due to the absence of a permanent eye, that he can perhaps attain by great efforts, the possibility of his own development.

I took the first steps toward the creation of an institute dedicated to putting into practice in man's life everything I had understood.

Piotro Spensky, great traveler and writer, recognised in Goetjev, someone capable of answering the great universal questions in a new and original way.

I acknowledge he is transmitted from age to age, from people to people.

The truth embedded in symbolic writings and legends is preserved in the form of customs and ceremonies and through the secret message of dance, music, sculpture.

The heart man is a very strong man who has always been a true man, who is a true man, who is a true man.

Goetjev puts to the test those who wish to see him.

He arranges to meet the young composer, Tomas Dahartman, in a desirreptable cafe that the risk of compromising his reputation as an officer in the imperial guard.

Dahartman, fascinated by the intense presence of this strange man from the Caucasus, decides with his wife Olga to join the group which meets in St. Petersburg.

At the beginning of 1917, the political situation applied to his Goetjev to leave Moscow with his young wife and visit his family in the Caucasus.

With my father, then 82 years old, I resumed the conversations of my childhood.

Does man have a soul, and if so, is this soul immortal?

I think, he said, that man is born with a particular property that allows a very fine substance to accumulate in him, in which he's capable of acquiring an existence almost independent of the physical body.

When a man dies, this substance does not disintegrate at the same time as the body, but only later, after it is separated from it.

The first time I met him, I was very happy to meet him.

Several companions joined Goetjev in his exile in the Caucasus, including Dr. Sternvall, Piotr Spensky,

Thomas De Hardman and their families.

Communal life of great intensity begins at this time.

I created conditions around me which brought each person back to the meaning and aim of his existence.

By an unavoidable friction between his consciousness and the automatic manifestations of his nature.

Political events soon took such a turn that not only work, but even survival became a problem.

One was never sure of still being alive the next day.

To escape this hell, I organized a scientific expedition whose official purpose was to make a survey of dullments in the Caucasus.

It took us two months accompanied by cold and hunger to cross the passes of this treacherous mountains.

I was tormented by a continual concern for those closest to me.

Those who had followed me and the others who had stayed behind in the turmoil.

Existed, we finally reached the shores of the Black Sea.

They reached ifless at the beginning of 1919 where a relative calm still reigns.

Gurgief decides to open his institute for the harmonious development of man.

He meets the painter and theatre designer Alexander Dassaultsman and his wife Jean, a teacher of dancing.

Alexander Dassaultsman illustrates the prospectus of the institute using allegory to know to be to understand.

The mayor of Tiffles promised to find us a building worthy of an institution whose purpose was to study how the arts of movement, music and painting are related to objective science.

In temporary premises work on oneself began in earnest from early morning until late at night.

I intended to create a ballet, the struggle of the magicians in the state theatre.

I had already worked it out in Moscow.

Alexander Dassaultsman prepares the sets and designs the costumes.

Thomas the Hartman composes the music.

Jean Dassaultsman with her pupils studies the choreography created by Gurgief.

Due to the prevailing unrest, I decided to liquidate everything in Tiffles.

Cross the border and use my time and energy more effectively in some other country.

It is in Constantinople that Gurgief disembarks in 1920 with about 30 people.

He opens a new institute in precarious conditions.

Gurgiefsman had a master's degree on the major Art

Kyolk even of it explained what I'd not been able to understand on my own.

But the dances of the Mavlevidervishes were related to mental calculation exercises,

often similar to those he had shown us in the Caucasus.

Having obtained visas for Germany, Gerdjev leaves Turkey on a freight train with some of his followers.

A man who is asleep cannot do.

First, he must wake up.

Once awake, he will see that as he is, he cannot do.

He must die to himself voluntarily, to everything which constitutes his ordinary life,

to what makes him a slave, a prisoner of his everyday habits.

If he dies, he can be reborn.

But the being which has been born must grow and learn.

When he has grown and has understood, then he will be able to act consciously.

He will be able to do.

My first journey in Europe,

brought me to the conclusion that the best place to open my institute was in France.

In 1922, thanks to the support of English patrons, he buys the Château du Priére, Nefontaine Blau.

A small community of Russians who followed him is joined by intellectuals from England.

Some of them are only interested in Gerdjev's ideas.

Others, such as Alfred Orage, brilliant editor of an avant-garde review,

involve themselves totally in all aspects of the institute's work.

Every animal works according to its constitution.

He who works like a nox is worthless, and he who does not work at all is also worthless.

The value of work lies not in the quantity, but in the quality.

Man's work only has value when he engages himself to the very limits of his possibilities.

Like Catherine Man's field, each person staying at the Priére could have provided inspiration for a good novel.

One did not concern oneself with worldly considerations.

Once one had passed through the gates, everything to do with one's private life or social status no longer mattered.

Here, there are neither Russians, nor English, Jews, nor Christians.

Only those who pursue one aim to be able to be.

The principle aim of our practical work is to reach a much more sensitive state of consciousness,

to discover a new attention, freed in particular from that automatic and unconscious phenomenon that we call identification.

I organise lectures almost every day.

I present it certain information, which must be assimilated to undertake work on oneself.

One can study in an external manner, the sun, the moon,

but man has everything within him. You have the sun in you, the moon, God. You have all of life in its totality.

Courdiff gives ever more complex exercises.

The movements in their sequence are given with precision and core for the development of the attention.

Each position is felt as a different note in ourselves and in the world.

Georgievanovich closely follows the fluctuations of our inner state.

Depending on this state, his behaviour can vary from one moment to another.

One is often struck by the fact that he always manages to make do with whatever is at hand.

For next to nothing, he buys an old Air Force Hanger to be put up in the ground of the shadow.

Every man can do whatever others can do.

Genius, talent, all that has no meaning.

The secret is simple to do things like a man.

Working like a man means to feel what one is doing, to think about why and for what end when he is doing it.

How it should have been done before, how it should be done today and what is the best way of doing it.

Or whether there is an even still better way of doing it.

The meaning of work rightly done is the simultaneous action of the three centres, moving, emotional and thinking.

When the three centres act together, this is the work of a man.

The second is the work of a man.

By his presence, you will even know which exhorts us to recognise the laws of nature and reminds us that all life in the image of breathing results from two opposite but complementary movements.

The observation and contraction, evolution and evolution, intensive work and surprise picnics.

On Saturday, the day of rest, the women go to the Turkish bath.

An old cellar was transformed into a steam bath and bathing pool was hollowed out of the rock.

During the festive dinner on Saturday night, all matters is who will tell the best story.

With ingenuity and skill, Alexander Dessertsman transformed some frames, retrieved from the shutters old greenhouse in stained glass windows.

As Georgi even of it says, if thought is active, the hand can become almost as quick.

So thanks to uninterrupted work which sometimes goes on late into the night, the study house is completed in a few weeks.

The second is the work of a man.

When man, in a quiet state of knowledge, is almost total nothingness.

He can then practice self-observation and self-remembering for a definite time.

In knowing himself, he will know his inner structure, he will be able to see.

The stop exercise allows one to leave the circle of deep rooted automatic functioning.

The movement taking place is interrupted by an outer command.

The body is further than at the moment of passage from one position to another.

By perceiving himself in this unacousted posture, each person looks at himself from a new point of view and can think, feel, and know himself in a new way.

The journalist present at these demonstrations can cocked fantastic interpretations of this work on consciousness and some describe good-jef as a charlatan.

He succeeds in finding a way to have his mother and sister brought to the pre-oray along with those of his family who survived the massacres in Armenia.

He settles them in the paradoo, a small house close to the chateau.

He must go to Paris twice a week to deal with business matters.

To bring about a lasting solution to the financial problems of the pre-oray and so devote myself entirely to the teaching of my ideas, I decided to take my pupils on a tour of North America.

When I saw how the presence of an audience distracted them, I felt it necessary to give several public performances in Paris before we set sail.

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One feels his force full of goodness which untiringly sustains us.

It is a force one can almost weigh.

He could give a thousandfold more if only one more capable of receiving it.

At the end of 1923, several performances are given of the Tia Tréditien Zellisa in Paris.

These demonstrations are much appreciated, but Georgie even of it teaches us that in such work one must not think of results and not expect praise nor encouragement.

The work in itself is a name.

When the performances are over, he organises a large new year celebration of the priory with many guests and presents for all the children.

Less than two weeks later, I arrived in New York without a pen in my pocket.

I was accompanied by a troop of 46 people, most of whom like myself didn't speak a word of English.

We were warmly welcomed by our harsh.

I had given him the task of bringing together those interested in my ideas.

In this city where God the Dollar reigns, where prohibition and the Fox trotter rampant, Georgieff doesn't waste any time.

Only 10 days after his arrival, without any prior arrangement, he gives a demonstration of the movements in a theatre.

In difficult conditions they go to Philadelphia and Boston to present their work.

Georgieff is invited to a large theatre in Chicago and sees his reputation grow until a final performance is given in New York's Carnegie Hall.

This work on oneself needs nothing external. It only needs what is within.

But on the outside one should play a role in everything.

Externally a man should be an actor.

While his pupils return to France, he stays in New York to open a branch of his institute to be led by Alfred Orage.

We must always start with ourselves.

Take ourselves as an example, because we cannot see others through the mask they wear.

Only if we know ourselves can we see another. For all people are alike inside.

Others are like us. They have the same good intentions to become better, but they cannot.

Georgieff returns to the pre-arranged June 1924 with new members of the American groups determined to put his ideas into practice.

One month after my return, my unfortunate physical body, along with my car, crashed straight into a huge tree.

I was carried to the prairie where I remained in a coma for five days.

How to live?

Outwardly, I strived always to appear calm, so I was not to worry my family, especially my wife and mother.

Both already seriously ill, utterly sacrificed themselves to take care of me.

Several months later, my consciousness returned with all its force.

Since I was unable, even when in full health, to put into practice the truth which I had elucidated for the well-being of man,

it was necessary at all cost to do it at least in theory before my death.

Having taken this decision on January 1st, 1925, I began that same day to dictate why I was still too weak to write.

As my theme, I chose events on the scale of the universe, and as the main hero, I chose the great Belzebub in person,

which would not fail to arouse hostility towards me in my future readers.

My unforgettable old mother died after her long illness, and several months later, my wife,

whom I loved with a unique and sincere love left us as well.

Now, the two beings nearest to my inner world lie peacefully forever side by side, in a country which for them as well as for me is totally foreign.

In spite of the constant physical and moral suffering I experienced, I continued to write,

to write and ceasingly.

I began traveling in order to relieve this suffering through new and varied impressions and beyond the lookout for any new business deal.

Journeys with Georgi even know it are always disconcerting.

A person expects to be doing one thing and finds himself responsible for something else he has no training for.

These conditions reveal each person's self-esteem.

I wrote at the Priory in at the Café de la Paix, my Paris office, and also in clubs and dance halls, which for some reason benefited my work.

The children in Georgiath's family, like those of the Priory's residents, take part in the life of the community.

They are responsible for a little vegetable garden and look after the animals.

The child's education must be based on the principle that everything must come from himself.

Nothing should be given to him already made.

One should only propose ideas, only be a guide.

I never teach directly or my pupils would learn nothing.

If I want a pupil to change, I speak to someone else and in this way he learns.

While working on the music with Georgi even of it, I had some very trying moments.

Thomas De Hartman remembers.

To be able to grasp the melody which he played on the piano with only one finger, I was quite simply an amazing feat.

To challenge me, he would often introduce subtle differences even before I'd finished transcribing it.

This drove me to despair.

300 pieces for piano saw the light of day within the space of three years.

At the beginning of 1930, Georgiath returns to America.

From then on he spends several months a year in the United States without ever interrupting his writing.

For six years, I lived without the slightest pity towards myself.

I was compelled always and everywhere in all conditions and circumstances to remember myself.

I had to keep myself without weakening at an extremely intense level of inner activity, so as not to become identified with anything.

After my automobile accident, it was us the way we were dead.

I am born and you.

I remember how I was before.

My thoughts, my feelings were heavy, very heavy.

Now they are flooded with light.

One month after I had finished the first series of my books, I began writing again.

I chose to evoke my father's wisdom, my first teachers, and my meetings with remarkable men during the course of my many journeys.

In this way, I hope to answer every once curiosity about the outer forms my life had taken.

Due to the worldwide depression, Georgiath finds himself obliged to close his institute and to part from his long-time companions.

In 1934 in New York, I started writing the third series of my books.

Life is real only then when I am.

He is distressed to learn of Alfred Orages' death, which follows a month after that of his faithful friend Alexander the Sultzman.

In Paris, Georgiath now lives a more solitary life.

A small group of American women writers and artists sees every opportunity to meet with him.

With his consummate art for upsetting any and all habits, every moment is a pretext for making something understood, for constantly challenging one's beliefs.

By a word or just look, he can reduce to ashes brilliant setting of the Côte d'Azur.

Never forget that every stick has two ends.

The devil can lead you to paradise and God directly to hell.

The most beautiful roses have thorns. That is what gives them their value.

Starting in 1937, gender Sultzman brings together a group of young French people.

Among Lemmeur Henri Tracol, Henriette Lan, the writers René Dommal and Luc Détrich, who recount their experiences in their writings.

In spite of the threat of war and the strong pressure of his American pupils to settle in the United States, Georgiath decides to remain in Paris.

At the onset of the war, he receives Yandre Sultzman's pupils in his apartment, Rudecoulonella René.

Everyone's difficulties and the curfew only reinforce the intensity of the exchanges and meals they all share.

All through the war, his pupils overcame every obstacle to go several times a week to the Salplay El where Georgiath created new movements.

It was a moment of freedom snatched from the occupation and from fear.

While privation is rife everywhere, Georgiath obtains credit at the finest gourmet shops.

He generously offers help and comfort to Russian immigrants and the poor of the neighborhood and supports them in his own way.

When people come to my apartment and see my paintings, they all say that I have the worst collection in Paris and perhaps the whole world.

But I don't see that by buying a painting, I can help someone who has painted it with all his heart.

Mr. Georgiath always supervises every detail of the preparations for Christmas.

According to an established patriarchal ritual, he offers each guest a present chosen especially for him.

He will not hear a being thanked and provides for everyone an unforgettable moment where a sense of the sacred is shared by all.

The war over is the Georgiath rediscoveres his taste for unannounced trips.

He knows how to win everyone's trust only to abruptly make them feel their own self-importance, gullibility or greed.

He plays a role in order to make us present to ourselves, our weaknesses and our automatic reactions.

Mr. Georgiath is again in New York at the end of 1948.

In his favourite cafe where he so often used to work, he meets those who, with Piotr Spensky, have been studying his ideas for a long time.

Spensky has just died without having resumed his relationship with Goodjef since he left the priori 25 years earlier.

On the ship taking him back to France with Jandre Salzman, the person asked him if he should call him Dr. Professor Maestro.

He replies, me a man.

The

Goodjef decides to publish B.L. Zibab's tales to his grandson on a subscription basis.

After 50 years of preparation and having overcome the greatest difficulties, I have now reached the moment to publish the first series of my writings.

In order to accomplish this task, I need the help of all those who have understood something of the value of my ideas.

I intend that the first series of my writings shall be made freely available to all who are in the need of their help.

All those who have been personally helped by my ideas will have the opportunity to repay a part of their debt and help me to offer what I have soon.

When you do something, do it with all you are being.

One thing at a time.

Now, I am sitting here, eating.

For me nothing else exists in the whole world.

I am eating with all my attention.

You must do likewise in everything.

In his little room, Mr. Goodjef meets people for private sessions.

He gives precise instructions over a cup of coffee and helps each in his personal search.

The apartment is too small to welcome all the people who wish to come to the readings, to the meals and to the music, when Goodjef improvises on his little instrument.

Every day the dining room is packed.

The guests squeezing even into the hall to take part in the ritual of the toast to the idiots.

For the sages of antiquity an idiot is simply a man who is seeking to become himself.

Those who live in illusion treat him as a fool an idiot.

The guests are the best.

The guests are the best.

The guests are the best.

The guests are the best.

The guests are the best.

Goodjef finds ways to create difficult conditions.

He puts everyone in question.

He is capable of playing any role, preferably one that shocks the most.

Beneath his gaze the reactions he arouses bring intense moments of sincerity.

For those ready to respond to the challenge of his demands, Goodjef forever draws them towards further adventures, full of unexpected inner discoveries.

He takes his last journey during the summer of 1949 to the caves at Lasco, the origins of man.

He encourages everyone to maintain an unchanging eye in all circumstances, and not to behave passively like a passenger in a car.

He is the best.

He is the best.

I have worked much.

My book will soon be published.

Everyone will be able to read it.

Then I will go far away where I will be able to rest.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.

I will be able to read it.