Marmashen’s flourishing was brief. Once a center of learning, with a large library, the monastery could not withstand the Seljuk invasions that swept across Armenia. Unlike Arich or Tatev, it never developed into a major center of theology or art. In the 13th century, however, the Zakarian princes restored the Pahlavuni family’s estates. In 1225, Vahram’s grandsons—Archbishop Grigor and his brother Harib (or Garib)—rebuilt the monastery and encircled it with defensive walls.
They also ordered the monastery’s history inscribed on the cathedral’s wall, preserving its story for future generations.
The protective wall eventually gave rise to a village around the monastery, named Vagramaberd—“Fortress of Vahram.” Numerous khachkars—stone crosses—dot the area, some ancient, others recent.
Despite waves of conquest and destruction, the monastery endured. In the early 19th century, after yet another Russo-Turkish war, the new border between the Russian Empire and Ottoman Turkey ran through the Akhuryan gorge. Armenian families from Kars and nearby regions resettled in Vagramaberd, finding shelter in the shadow of the sacred cross. A village school was also founded near the monastery.
Locals took responsibility for preserving the site, maintaining and occasionally repairing the buildings. But nature proved a more formidable enemy. In 1883, a powerful earthquake destroyed the Church of the Holy Mother of God and damaged other structures. A few years later, Catholicos Mkrtich Khrimian—known as Khrimian Hayrik—oversaw a restoration.
Church services continued at Marmashen until 1923, when the Bolsheviks banned religious activity. The monastery was secularized and designated a cultural monument under state care.
It survived two more earthquakes. After the 1988 Spitak disaster, a large crack appeared in the wall of Katoghike, threatening the entire structure. In 2000, an Italian restoration team led by Gayane Casnati stabilized the wall and carried out additional work.
Today, the situation surrounding Marmashen is unusual. Although services are once again held in its churches, the buildings themselves do not legally belong to the Armenian Apostolic Church. This might seem a technicality—until recent developments posed a grave threat.
A hydroelectric dam was constructed across the Akhuryan River, forming a reservoir that dramatically increased moisture levels in the area. This persistent dampness endangers the ancient churches’ foundations and mortar. Yet, due to the monastery’s unresolved ownership, the Church cannot officially begin restoration.
