In the 1990s, a significant socio-political crisis erupted in independent Georgia, a period marked by a desperate search for identity in the post-Soviet era. This crisis involved dealing with deep social conflicts, rampant unemployment, and a high crime rate, making it a particularly tumultuous time for the country. The phenomenon known as the “Kutaisi Wave” emerged and evolved against this historical backdrop, representing a complex assessment of these turbulent times.

Songs created since the 90s were compiled into two albums, preserving the history of Kutaisi. It wasn’t rare for concerts to be held in the former building of the House of Writers. What set this generation apart was not only their music but also a shared vision. Everything old-fashioned became a ruin; “Viva” signaled something new.

Do you know where the most outstanding representatives of Georgian painting can meet in Kutaisi? Certainly, in the city center at Rustaveli Avenue 8,  in the permanent exhibition of the David Kakabadze Gallery of Fine Arts, or the repository of the fund. Let’s talk about a symbolic coincidence: directly across from the gallery is the building of the first public school. In this former classical gymnasium, one of the founders of Georgian realistic painting Giorgi Maisuradze (painting teacher of Akaki, Niko Nikoladze, Niko Marie, Besarion Gogoberidze, and other notable figures) lived for many years starting in 1851. He was the first accredited Georgian portrait painter, a friend, and classmate of Repin, who taught drawing and penmanship.

For several days now, the name of this beautiful, but especially “charismatic” woman has been spinning in my head. Interestingly, more than ten years have passed since she last occupied my thoughts. Ten years ago, she interested me less, and later, I almost forgot about her. In the past year, however, my curiosity has reawakened, and I have a desire for everyone, if not many, to know about her.

More than a hundred families lived in our airship (the nickname for our apartment on Chavchavadze Avenue). Ten meters wide, the courtyard echoed with the patter of little feet day in and day out. Even the sound of an airplane landing at the airfield couldn’t drown out their noise; only once in a while, not every day, in the evening, an amazing silence fell when all the children, immersed in their own worlds, paused: “Meoba is coming!” They would watch, entranced, as a tall, handsome man with the swaying walk of a sailor approached, bestowing an indescribable smile upon both young and old.

Traveling from Chiatura, bypassing “Davis Namukhlari” (a place below Mukhatgvedi, a rock obstructing the road from Tbilisi to Dzegvi), you will leave behind Sveri fortress and “Kotia Cave,” eventually reaching the village of Tskhrukveti. Here, in the old cemetery beneath the church of St. Marina, a stone entwined in vegetation will surely catch your eye. This crypt belongs to Vera Varazashvili, as the inscription indicates. Isidore Varazashvili constructed this eternal crypt in profound love and sorrow for his beloved wife.

The historical roots of Kharagauli and its inhabitants trace back to time immemorial. People have lived on its territory since the Early and Upper Paleolithic eras, with ancient archaeological finds discovered across Kharagauli. The municipality is abundant in historical monuments, including churches, monasteries, castles, towers, and defensive structures.

Author: Nanuli Tskhvediani In ancient times, if a woman from Kutaisi directed a curse your […]

Dziga Vertov, a documentary filmmaker of the early 20th century, once described photography as “taking life by the scruff of the neck.” It’s challenging to find a more precise analogy. European cultural achievements of that time reached Georgia immediately, mainly due to the country’s geographical position. Situated at the crossroads of Europe and Asia, Georgia quickly became involved in all the latest developments. In the 19th century, despite a challenging political landscape, scientific, technical, and cultural innovations reached us through Russia. 

Libraries are vaults of frozen time, time that springs to life and begins to exist only when you touch it. You pull out a book, and it’s as if rusty gears start moving, turning the days and hours preserved from the past.