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FESTIVITY IN YEREVAN AND TBILISI
Georgia Today
Feb 13 2014
Print version
In bitter January I was told by locals in Yerevan that Georgians seldom
visit there, even in balmier days. Why? They weren't quite sure, so in
Tbilisi I asked a Georgian, Emzar Jgerenaia, Director of the Department
for Science, Culture and Civic Education at the National Parliamentary
Library, and professor of sociology at Ilia State University.
It seems there is rivalry between his country and Armenia over
"who are the oldest people in the world." Some vague consciousness
may still linger, too, of 19th century Tbilisi when "people who
were selling were Armenians," and looked down upon by Georgians who
"hated to trade" and considered themselves "aristocratic." Meanwhile,
these days, Armenians may consider Georgians to be people who "cannot
work well," are not "rational," and maybe are even "crazy people."
Georgia has a "culture of festivity," Jgerenaia added - yet here
Armenians might not want to be left out. Yerevan has "a soul," I heard
from Gayane Danielyan, who for almost two decades has reported on the
arts for Radio Liberty in her city, where "people love each other"
and "we are very open ... we are very free." She found that to be true
even during the Soviet era, though since then it has been "very hard
to live here" considering the economic challenges her country faces.
But in recent years "our government has paid serious attention to our
culture," Danielyan was glad to say, though it has not piqued as much
interest in theatre as she would like, since too many "people prefer
to sit home."
According to Danielyan, however, Yerevan is a great town for classical
music, liked not only by Armenians but also their government. There
are "two great concert halls," Danielyan enthused, and in January the
city proudly played host to the Polish composer and conductor Krzysztof
Penderecki, devoted a festival to his works, and made sure he dared not
leave town until a gold medal had been bestowed upon him by the mayor.
Around town in Tbilisi, on the other hand, the theatre ticket may be
hotter on any given night, but classical music has had and will have
its devotees. Indeed, in the 1990s, "even when there was no electricity
or heating, and danger in the streets," concerts were avidly supported
when scheduled for five or six PM, rather than eight, I learned from
Reso Kiknadze, Rector of the Tbilisi State Conservatoire, who also
emphasized that autumn's Telavi International Music Festival is always
sold out.
The musical interests and expertise of Kiknadze, who spent two decades
in Germany, are eclectic, including traditional Georgian music,
Persian music, electronic music, and jazz, and he is determined
to broaden the musical horizon in Tbilisi, believing that "if we
are not aware of European music of the 20th century," along with
achievements in the United States in the first half of that century,
then classical music in Tbilisi will be in danger of becoming part
of a "museum culture." Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff have their place,
but not as a steady diet.
Moreover, at the Conservatoire courses in journalism, management and
technology have recently been added to the curriculum, though when
it comes to publicity and getting the word out, classical music in
Georgia may be running behind, say, the jazz festivals in Tbilisi
and Batumi, which, said Kiknadze, are "working better commercially."
Indeed, there have been instances of classical concerts that one might
"hear about the same day."
"Georgians are masters in bad management," Kiknadze wryly allowed,
though "improvising, doing things on the fly" may have become "part
of culture" due to a history in which "anything could happen, even
"a war with Russia," leaving "social life turned upside down."
Besides, Georgian tax dollars nowadays may not be working as hard for
the arts as they were during the previous administration, and Kiknadze
is particularly distressed that a generation of music professors who
have given students their very best for decades may now find, as they
reach retirement age, that they are neither adequately appreciated
nor provided for.
But Kiknadze is confident that "Georgians are very interested in art
and culture;" they "just need to get more open to things they have not
experienced before." Members of an older generation, exposed to the
work of an avant-garde artist, may ask themselves, "Is he kidding, or
mocking me?" But the key is, "You have to educate people," and already
a series of free concerts for young people is planned for the spring.
Danielyan too is looking toward the future in Armenia, though at
present "our nation is a poor country ... but we are good people,
intellectual people ... we will help ourselves ..." The day of our
conversation was an emotional one for her, as it followed the very
recent death, at a young age, of Levon Kechoyan, an author whom
she reveres.
What Armenia most needs, she went on with fervor, along with
"more work, more jobs for people" are "free borders" and a "better
relationship with our neighbors," referring of course to Turkey and
Azerbaijan, with which Armenia's borders are closed.
"On earth we must be very kind to each other," Danielyan believes,
since "we are living a very small life" and our time on earth is so
short. That might well be taken as something of a call for a "culture
of festivity" to be celebrated on both sides of the Georgian-Armenian
border.
By Robert Linkous
13.02.2014
http://www.georgiatoday.ge/article_details.php?id=11900
Georgia Today
Feb 13 2014
Print version
In bitter January I was told by locals in Yerevan that Georgians seldom
visit there, even in balmier days. Why? They weren't quite sure, so in
Tbilisi I asked a Georgian, Emzar Jgerenaia, Director of the Department
for Science, Culture and Civic Education at the National Parliamentary
Library, and professor of sociology at Ilia State University.
It seems there is rivalry between his country and Armenia over
"who are the oldest people in the world." Some vague consciousness
may still linger, too, of 19th century Tbilisi when "people who
were selling were Armenians," and looked down upon by Georgians who
"hated to trade" and considered themselves "aristocratic." Meanwhile,
these days, Armenians may consider Georgians to be people who "cannot
work well," are not "rational," and maybe are even "crazy people."
Georgia has a "culture of festivity," Jgerenaia added - yet here
Armenians might not want to be left out. Yerevan has "a soul," I heard
from Gayane Danielyan, who for almost two decades has reported on the
arts for Radio Liberty in her city, where "people love each other"
and "we are very open ... we are very free." She found that to be true
even during the Soviet era, though since then it has been "very hard
to live here" considering the economic challenges her country faces.
But in recent years "our government has paid serious attention to our
culture," Danielyan was glad to say, though it has not piqued as much
interest in theatre as she would like, since too many "people prefer
to sit home."
According to Danielyan, however, Yerevan is a great town for classical
music, liked not only by Armenians but also their government. There
are "two great concert halls," Danielyan enthused, and in January the
city proudly played host to the Polish composer and conductor Krzysztof
Penderecki, devoted a festival to his works, and made sure he dared not
leave town until a gold medal had been bestowed upon him by the mayor.
Around town in Tbilisi, on the other hand, the theatre ticket may be
hotter on any given night, but classical music has had and will have
its devotees. Indeed, in the 1990s, "even when there was no electricity
or heating, and danger in the streets," concerts were avidly supported
when scheduled for five or six PM, rather than eight, I learned from
Reso Kiknadze, Rector of the Tbilisi State Conservatoire, who also
emphasized that autumn's Telavi International Music Festival is always
sold out.
The musical interests and expertise of Kiknadze, who spent two decades
in Germany, are eclectic, including traditional Georgian music,
Persian music, electronic music, and jazz, and he is determined
to broaden the musical horizon in Tbilisi, believing that "if we
are not aware of European music of the 20th century," along with
achievements in the United States in the first half of that century,
then classical music in Tbilisi will be in danger of becoming part
of a "museum culture." Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff have their place,
but not as a steady diet.
Moreover, at the Conservatoire courses in journalism, management and
technology have recently been added to the curriculum, though when
it comes to publicity and getting the word out, classical music in
Georgia may be running behind, say, the jazz festivals in Tbilisi
and Batumi, which, said Kiknadze, are "working better commercially."
Indeed, there have been instances of classical concerts that one might
"hear about the same day."
"Georgians are masters in bad management," Kiknadze wryly allowed,
though "improvising, doing things on the fly" may have become "part
of culture" due to a history in which "anything could happen, even
"a war with Russia," leaving "social life turned upside down."
Besides, Georgian tax dollars nowadays may not be working as hard for
the arts as they were during the previous administration, and Kiknadze
is particularly distressed that a generation of music professors who
have given students their very best for decades may now find, as they
reach retirement age, that they are neither adequately appreciated
nor provided for.
But Kiknadze is confident that "Georgians are very interested in art
and culture;" they "just need to get more open to things they have not
experienced before." Members of an older generation, exposed to the
work of an avant-garde artist, may ask themselves, "Is he kidding, or
mocking me?" But the key is, "You have to educate people," and already
a series of free concerts for young people is planned for the spring.
Danielyan too is looking toward the future in Armenia, though at
present "our nation is a poor country ... but we are good people,
intellectual people ... we will help ourselves ..." The day of our
conversation was an emotional one for her, as it followed the very
recent death, at a young age, of Levon Kechoyan, an author whom
she reveres.
What Armenia most needs, she went on with fervor, along with
"more work, more jobs for people" are "free borders" and a "better
relationship with our neighbors," referring of course to Turkey and
Azerbaijan, with which Armenia's borders are closed.
"On earth we must be very kind to each other," Danielyan believes,
since "we are living a very small life" and our time on earth is so
short. That might well be taken as something of a call for a "culture
of festivity" to be celebrated on both sides of the Georgian-Armenian
border.
By Robert Linkous
13.02.2014
http://www.georgiatoday.ge/article_details.php?id=11900