A journey to old Kutaisi begins somewhere at the intersection of the French and Jewish Quarters or, at the very least, when you step onto the cobblestones of Gelati Street. However, this journey can also start with the “Passages”—as the local residents of Kutaisi still refer to the commercial rows stretching from the central square to the Greenmarket. Most people may not even know that the name is tied to entrepreneur Jakob Begishvili, who lived in the city during the latter half of the 19th century.

The social and cultural construction of urban space remains a significant and timely subject within urban studies, particularly in the fields of social and cultural anthropology. Ethnographic research, especially that gathered through participant observation, deepens our understanding of this expansive topic. Recent advances in urban studies explore the continuous interaction between people, the city, and its architectural elements—such as squares, parks, stations, and bus stops—creating a distinctive social climate, marked by unique patterns of behavior and communication.

“I had to leave something for you before I returned to my refuge, where there is not even a mirror, only a hole, where until the final complete darkness I can hide, remember so many things, and imagine from time to time how you continue to paint again, how you leave the house at night to paint again.” — Julio Cortázar, Graffiti. Have you ever considered how things that are part of our daily lives gradually become invisible over time? This observation applies to the architecture and character of the city we live in. The places we frequent fade into the background as if we believe they are immutable, forever locked in our memories.

The experience of music is a profound joy, and for many music lovers, it’s not just about listening to recordings or attending concerts—it’s about owning them. People are naturally possessive; they want to hold and touch what they love. That’s why so many music enthusiasts collect music. Until the early 21st century, owning music meant accumulating physical media—vinyl records, cassette tapes, or compact discs. Music had a tangible form that could be placed on a table, a shelf, or even carried in a pocket.

Thomas Wardrop and his wife Marjory Cameron Scott were blessed with three children: Oliver, Marjory, and Thomas, hailing from a distinguished Scottish family. Oliver Wardrop first encountered Shota Rustaveli on February 19, 1887, during a pilgrimage to Palestine, where he observed Rustaveli’s fresco in the Holy Cross Monastery. This experience ignited his and his family’s lifelong fascination with Rustaveli and his poetry. Oliver served as a representative of the British Kingdom in the South Caucasus and Georgia. He dedicated a book to Georgia titled “The Georgian Kingdom: Impressions from a Journey to the Land of Women, Wine, and Songs.” In it, Oliver described Kutaisi, writing, “Kutaisi is a beautiful city with 25,000 inhabitants, nearly all Georgians.

“A character lost in the chaos, trying to turn life into one big movie.” You probably won’t recognize this phrase—it doesn’t belong to a famous director, writer, or poet. And this article isn’t about French cinema or the aesthetics of Tarkovsky, Kubrick, or Parajanov. Yet, one thing is clear: there’s a poetic quality to his films and a search for the cinematic within everyday life. We are talking about a young, twenty-year-old filmmaker from Rezo Gabriadze’s Imereti, a place dear to our hearts. This is Saba Bodokia, a man in love with cinema, slowly proving that the dream of creating a flying machine isn’t so far-fetched when fueled by imagination and a desire to soar.

An extraordinary exhibition begins. Sapichkhia – David Kldiashvili, the Boulevard – the Ishkhneli sisters, the Theater Yard of Meskhiashvili – Lado Meskhiashvili and Kote Marjanishvili, the House of Writers – Lado Asatiani, “Zastava” – Vasily Kikvidze. The Pantheon of Outstanding Figures at Mtsvanekvavila – one, two, three… Do you remember the “extraordinary exhibition”… of the one who “brought half, if not the whole, city to life in stone,” Eristavi at the Kutaisi Cemetery – at his own personal exhibition? This is not just the “tragic fate” of one person but of all the sculptors in a small town. But in this case, Aguli has one prototype for whom the whole city is indeed an extraordinary exhibition. Gogilo (Giorgi) Nikoladze himself, after his son-in-law Rezo Gabriadze, immortalized him in the character of Aguli Eristavi, no longer belongs only to Kutaisi.

When exploring the development of Georgian political thought and cultural identity, it’s fascinating to observe how individuals often establish profound connections with their historical era and the collective struggles of their time. This self-reflection allows one to align with an imagined unity of people who share similar challenges and concerns. Faced with common difficulties, this collective seeks solutions, searching for answers to their own questions. Once an individual forms a mental connection to this newly conceived collective identity, they begin a process of continuous re-evaluation of heritage, history, and ideas.

Author: Giorgi Pantsulaia Niko Nikoladze, a great Georgian public figure, thinker, and publicist, is celebrated […]

Author: Mariam Mebuke “ARS POETICA” “Here, memory hears the rustle of wings  And dreams darken […]