Contemporary Art from the Caucasus
Art from the Caucasus.
Descriptions of the Caucasus—the region including Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and a bit of Russia—frequently mention the word “crossroads”…of civilisations, of empires. The culture of the area easily seems like a blend of what we traditionally understand as the East and the West. When you look at the landscape of Georgia and Armenia in images, you encounter mountain ranges, and several monasteries—belonging to a very distinct branch of Christianity. Azerbaijan, on the other hand, is a Muslim majority state with a secular government—which gives it a feel that is very different from other Islamic nations. The ancient Silk Road passed through the region and the powers that have fought over it historically include the Achaemenids, Neo-Assyrians, Parthians, Romans, Sassanians, Byzantines, Mongols, Ottomans, multiple Iranian (Safavid, Afsharid and Qajar), the Russian Empire, and finally, the Soviet Union. The visuals that emerge out of the area reflect this mixed heritage. Although not very well known in international art hubs like London and New York, the contemporary art scene of the Caucasus appears locally rich, with an experimental spirit that seamlessly merges its various cultural influences.
I learnt via a simple online search that in Georgia and Armenia, a certain surrealistic, often fantastical, style happens to be quite popular. Armenian artist Artem Melik-Azariants (born 1978) and Georgian artist Otar Imerlishvili (born 1970) have produced bodies of work that depict dreamy cityscapes, travellers, homes, couples—combining a European touch with a native quality. Some of Melik-Azariants’ paintings show fish on land, strange vehicles, royalty and ordinary men in urban neighbourhoods or deserts out of a storybook. Imerlishvili, inspired by his hometown Tbilisi, renders it bright with a playful charm. Magic oozes from his canvasses. His whimsical scenes celebrate daily life through the coloured lens of innocence and wonder. Bathing, dining, dancing, gossip, romance, theft, adventure, plain craziness are all part of the visual narrative. In some pictures, grassy grounds and multi-storeyed houses are set on top of each other. Cities become towers. Often they simply turn into men—one city may meet another city in a friendly handshake.
Such art—with enchantment at every step and turn—gets to the heart of the Tbilisi identity. The volume The Book of Tbilisi: A City in Short Fiction (2017) mentions the legend on the founding of the city: “Back at the start of the Middle Ages, the territory we now call Tbilisi was covered with dense woodland. According to the legend, King Vakhtang I Gorgasali of Georgia, ruling in the second half of the 5th century, went hunting with his men in the forests here. During the hunt the king wounded a roe deer with an arrow. The animal limped away into the dense thicket, and the king’s men ran after it, following the drops of blood it left behind.
“This trail led the men to a boiling hot spring. There, they witnessed how the water bubbling out of the ground healed the wounded doe, as if it contained some magical properties, and the doe, now recovered, disappeared into the forest again. The men related this miracle to their king and showed him the spot where it had happened. So impressed was he with this tale, and with the hot sulphuric springs, that the king ordered his new capital city to be built in that very spot.”
Folk-themed portraits, with traditional costumes and activities, are also copiously produced in Armenia and Georgia—such as the works above by Tigran Tigranyan and Nick Japaridze. From Azerbaijan, a notable figure is Farid Rasulov (born 1985), who represented the country at the Venice Biennale in 2009. In his project “Carpet Interiors” he places pure white animals (could be lion, horse, pelican, kangaroo, dog, goat, etc.) in Western-style modern interiors that are entirely carpeted in Eastern-style print.
“The idea behind these works,” writes the artist, “is to organise an area where Eastern and Western ideology can create a dialogue and try to be together without harming each other. I used Western-type interior design and covered it with carpets, one of the most prominent symbols of the East. I chose carpets from Seven Carpet Schools in Azerbaijan.” They are the Quba School, the Baku or Absheron School, Shirvan School, Ganja School, Gazakh School, Karabakh School and Tabriz School.
“The animals in these images symbolise a pure nature,” Farid continues, “that suffers or is damaged during this conversation between the East and the West. They seem as though stuck in prison, waiting for a miracle to come out of the white windows.”
To learn more about contemporary art in the Caucasus, check out these resources from Observer, Trip Advisor and the Culture Trip.
Written by Tulika Bahadur
