The Bizarre Architecture of Georgia
"Georgia is a conservative Orthodox country with a long history." That is often the description we would find in a guidebook. That was true, but you would not know it from the many public architectures erected in the past decade. When we think about the bizarre and the absurd in architecture, one might immediately think of new metropolia like Dubai or Shenzhen. I am certain that this small and relatively underdeveloped former Soviet republic would not be the new hotbed for avant-garde (or outright ridiculous) architecture.
Much of this recent 'renaissance' of public architecture results from one man, Mikheil Saakashvili. Swept into power via the Rose Revolution in 2003, Saakashvili used his outspoken and boisterous politics to reorient Georgia toward the West. It made him a darling among Western leaders and reform advocates. From early on, he has looked to public architecture as the most visible, or easier, some may say, a vehicle to convey his vision of Georgia's future: decidedly unorthodox, optimistic, and whimsical.
But compared to neighboring leaders such as Ilham Aliyev of Azerbaijan or Nursultan Nazarbayev of Kazakstan, Saakashvili's passions for contemporary architecture are often described as more personal. He reportedly handpicked architects for many of the most grandiose projects in Georgia. He developed a personal relationship with leading contemporary architects in Europe, such as J Mayer H, UNStudio, Henning Larsen, and Fuksas.
Saakashvili's optimism and rushed reforms failed to trickle down to ordinary Georgians. Despite strong economic expansion under his watch, the ruthless reforms against systemic corruption and rapid infrastructure developments took a toll on the existing social order. Similarly, his architectural endeavors often came at the expense of practical considerations and aesthetics. Like Saakashvili's economic program, all these projects were designed and constructed at a breakneck speed. Projects that often took three years were fast-tracked to just nine months. With so little time, the goal of the building programs is often to provoke. Like the Georgia foreign policy itself, anything new was considered good; anything resembling Soviet time was to be destroyed and forgotten.
During our short trip to Georgia, we came across a number of the most noted contemporary architecture, most of which were under the auspice of Mikheil Saakashvili. Aside from the Las Vegas-style madness in Batumi, we visited many of the greatest hits. Below are just some of the highlights:
National Parliament of Georgia, Kutaisi
If there is a piece of architecture that symbolizes the contradiction of contemporary Georgia, why not go straight to the center of political power? The enormous structure could resemble and symbolize many things: an eye of the legislative branch or a sphere of a Utopian universe. Whatever the interpretation the architect wants to convey, there is no doubt it is both breathtaking and untasteful. At the cost of $240 million, the buildings' unique design posed many technical challenges, including chronic leaking glass roofs and inadequate air conditioning capacity for this enormous 'greenhouse'. To Saakashvili and his allies, the glass dome symbolizes the transparency of a new era of politics and the break from the imposing Soviet-era parliament building in Tbilisi.
Of course, the real madness of this project is not just the physical structure but that the parliament is located there at all. Billed to decentralize the power away from Tbilisi, the Saakashvili administration and his political party passed a constitutional amendment to designate Kutaisi as Georgia's legislative capital officially. At the time, the relocation was greeted by indifference from half the population and ridicule from others for disrupting legislative activities unnecessarily. A solid 3-hour drive hour away from the executive branch, Kutaisi is hardly the ideal choice.
The project was further mired in controversy when the government selected the site of Glory Monument, a Soviet-era war monument, as the building site. If demolishing a Russian-backed monument was not contentious enough, two civilians were killed by accident during the dynamite of the memorial. Not surprisingly, just a few months after our visit, it was announced in September 2018 that the Parliament would relocate back to Tbilisi. The six-year-old building would be transferred to the Ministry of Internal Affairs for "some kind" of administrative functions. It illustrates that a bold move could be futile despite the best intention.
Public Services Hall, Tbilisi
Public architecture is meant for the "public," Government structures such as the presidential palace, police stations, or national parliament are "for the people" in name only. Ask yourself how often we visited your police station or local legislature building. People's interactions with their government are most frequent in libraries or the Department of Motor Vehicles. After the Rose Revolution, the Georgian government sought to consolidate all government services under one roof. Known as Public Service Hall, this new place of government administration became the face of a new, reformed government. People could obtain marriage certificates, register businesses, or renew their passports and identity cards.
Among nearly two dozen such points of service across Georgia, the flagship office in Tbilisi is undisputedly the system's crown jewel. It is also the flamboyant among them all architecturally. The structure comprises a series of interlocking glass blocks around a central atrium. What makes it so striking is eleven undulating metal roofs referred to as "petals." The playful interplay of the organic roof forms and modernist offices underneath make this one of Georgia's most intriguing pieces of architecture. Understanding all the critical reviews from local architects and urbanists, I found the scale of the building to be surprisingly harmonious at its riverfront location. The mushroom-like roof appears to float above the tree line from afar. It is truly a landmark in the making, symbolizing the contradiction of contemporary Georgia.
Rhike Park Music Theatre and Exhibition Hall, Tbilisi
During my first visit to Tbilisi in 2011, the Rhike Park just emerged. Even then, a rendering of this structure made a big impression on me and was not good. Fast forward to 2018, and I was even more disgusted now, standing before the completed project. The tubular, horn-like structure houses an exhibition hall and a 566-seat concert venue. Designed by the same team that finished the nearby Public Service Hall, the project lacks a similar sensitivity to the cultural past and existing fabric of Old Tbilisi.
There is no aspect of this particular design worthy of praise. It is only more insulting to read the architect's 2015 statement on working in Tbilisi: “Every country needs to combine its great cultural tradition with contemporary architecture to create part of the country’s history of the future,” To me, this seems to be the ultimate "facadism". Despite being referred to as a "periscope to the city and looking towards the river framing the historic core of Old Tbilisi, there were very few published photos of the interior, including no known photograph of the concert hall itself. One must wonder whether even the architects are embarrassed by their works.
Bridge of Peace, Tbilisi
This striking steel and glass bridge was among the first of Saakashvili's pet projects. Lauded by the ex-president as a bridge to Georgia's future, this grandiose structure immediately became the physical symbol of Georgia's rush to embrace anything "Western." Needless to say, this flashy pedestrian bridge divided public opinion from day one. Nicknamed "Always Ultra Bridge" due to its close resemblance to female sanitary pads, the design always borders on the absurd. The bridge's "flashiness" turns literal about 90 minutes before sunset when over 1,200 LED lights are switched on and pulsated with 'coded messages' about human genetic codes and the periodic table.
It is honestly gut-wrenching to see the quaintness of Old Tbilisi be thrown off by this flamboyant bridge. It seemingly justifies the blazing dance club music that has become so prevalent in the part of the old town. But at the same time, people, locals and visitors alike, seem to genuinely enjoy the bridge. Like the Pop may have said once: "who am I to judge?" I was reminded by a friend that the Eiffel Tower was equally reviled by the public during her early year. Perhaps this bridge will become the Eiffel Tower of Georgia?
Queen Tamar Airport, Mestia
The region of Svaneti, at the southern slope of the Caucasus mountain range, experienced perhaps the greatest change under the leadership of President Saakashvili. This previously remote corner of Georgia has seen the addition of a new airport and two brand-new ski resorts. Saakashvili Administration saw Svaneti as a prime region that turned this previously remote region into a premier skiing destination in the Caucasus region.
The effort has succeeded in many ways, reversing the decades of population decline. But like the development of Svaneti itself, Queen Tamar Airport was constructed out of a hurry and received no local input on the design. Shaped like a bent paper clip, the terminal looks as alien in Svaneti as it would be elsewhere. Despite the supposed inspiration from the local Svan defensive towers, it is as much of a roadside symbol as a functioning terminal.
Public Services Hall & Police Station, Mestia
Mestia, the administrative center for the region of Svaneti, is blessed with the most infusions of investment from government-directed investment. Though small in scale and budget, the police station and the Public Services Hall symbolized foreign investments in Mestia. Situated on the new central square, it is claimed that the design of the police station pays homage to the medieval stone towers, which are traditional to the town’s mountainside region. Nevertheless, these justifications are as skin-deep as is the case for the building's pre-cast concrete facade panels.
Gori Service Station, Gori
Along the newly constructed Tbilisi-Batumi Highway are a series of eye-catching service stations that seem out of this world. Resembling either the distant mountain peak or some automotive body parts gear, this jigsaw-like architecture is surprisingly delightful. Unlike many of Jürgen Meyer-Hermann's projects in Georgia, his contemporary architectural language fits well with the contextual setting here. These concrete structures have a stately presence but are dynamic. Inside, the undulating ceiling and odd-shaped windows make it one of the most memorable rest stops I have ever visited.
Public Services Hall, Stepantsminda
As we were heading out of the town of Stepantsminda, I noticed a small modern structure along the side of the road. Given its decidedly contemporary appearance, we immediately recognize it as a local Public Services Hall. Honestly, it may not be fair to include this on my list of "bizarre architecture". But I want to include this building here to showcase a thoughtful, modern design. Perhaps this represents a new generation of public architecture in Georgia.