Destination Gelati

Destination: Gelati Cathedral, Kutaisi

The Gelati Monastery (pronounced with a hard G) is best glimpsed from the castle above Bagrat Cathedral in downtown Kutaisi. Drive up to the ruins of this Bagrat (dating from 1003 AD), take a walk to the left and behind the cathedral, until you are standing in the ruins the fort. Looking straight ahead, one can see in the distance the massive cupola of the Gelati Cathedral, perched in the hill eight kilometers distant.

In 1912, a man named Estate Kereselidze (1865-1944), originally from Racha but living in Tbilisi since 1880 (working for Ilia Chavchavadze’s Iveria newspaper press), took thirty-six boxes of music manuscripts and moved to the Gelati Cathedral. His mission: to learn the Orthodox liturgy by heart, and then organize and recopy the five thousand music manuscripts according to their proper order in the calendar services of the church.

His choice to move to the Gelati Cathedral was no accident. Founded by King Davit Aghmashenebeli (the Builder) in the 12th century, Gelati was considered at that time to be on par with the greatest academies in the world, where scholars translated from many of the worlds Christian languages, debated Plato and Aristotle, and created illuminated manuscripts such as those in western Europe. The academy was also for many centuries the center for sacred music development in Georgia, an appropriate place to work on chant in the 20th century.

Kereselidze worked day and night to organize and recopy the piles of hand-scribbled notes collected by musicologists during the turn of the century decades. When other monks at the Gelati Monastery asked him what he was staying up all night doing, he recalls trying to explain his incredible inheritance,

“Can’t you see that this is a treasure worth more than gold and precious gems? These are the Georgian chants, saved for generations, collected from the last masters, here in musical notation. And who am I, unworthy, to be responsible for this wealth? I am ill equipped to be a goldsmith or a fine jeweler, but feel as clumsy as a bear stirring a paw in the honey-pot of heaven.”

Visiting the Gelati Monastery, it is perhaps difficult to imagine a history of destruction and rebuilding, to imagine the presence of famous kings, philosophers, and foreign ambassadors, especially when groups of school children are running noisily across the monastery yard. But with a little investigation, hints of the 12th century remain.

In the foyer of the cathedral, just inside the door to the left, several original frescoes from the 12th century can be seen. Elsewhere in the church there are 13th and 14th century frescoes (in the side chapels if one can gain access), but in the main cathedral space, the frescoes date from the 14th-17th centuries. 12th century church chant has survived through a strong verbal tradition, and the famous words of a 12th century theologian and Gelati Academy professor, Ioane Petritsi, who wrote, “Our church singing can be likened to the Trinity. Many voiced, but carrying one soul.”

As a chant student myself, I’ll tell you a secret. Gelati is a pilgrimage site not only for historians, fresco experts, and to see the grave of King David the Builder, but for those who appreciate acoustics. Sound soars here! Singing in three-voice harmony, the passage of sound from lips to ears is completely unusual; instead of hearing oneself singing, one hears only the sound of voices returning from the vaulted ceilings, far sweeter and purer than any humanly produced sound. Voices normally out of tune are tuned by the walls, voices naturally louder are tempered and blended to fit the others, and as human breath runs out, Gelati continues to sing; a two-second delay carries the chant high into the alcoves of the cupola dome above.

Kereselidze organized five thousand chants into five enormous leather bound volumes, organized according to the Saint’s feast days, eight-mode system, liturgy services, and special holidays such as weddings and funerals. The master chanters who once knew these chants, and the musicologists who collected and notated them, were all dead. Only the manuscripts survived.

In 1936, two Georgian patriots, D. Davitashvili and D. Shevernadze helped Kereselidze secure the manuscripts into the State Archive (both were killed in 1937). As for Kereselidze, having been threatened with death in the Gelati Monastery in 1923, he moved to a remote monastery above Mtskheta, where he continued to work on the chant manuscripts, serve the liturgy alone, and live off of berries and his cultivations in the forest. He died in 1944.

To find the exact location where Kereselidze lived and worked for twelve years at the Gelati Monastery, walk to the far left corner of the monastery yard that overlooks Kutaisi. Bagrat Cathedral is visible in the distance, the ancient academy building in the monastery yard is just to your right. Wooden houses stood here a century ago, and this was exact location was still known by monks in the 1980s, as “Kereselidze’s cell.”

Entering the church, take a look at the 12th century frescoes in the foyer, then imagine yourself in a procession of 12th century bishops and kings, and enter the main sanctuary to the sound of royal singing. If you have come with chanters, or come during a service, the great acoustical beauty of Gelati will be yours to experience. Otherwise, one’s imagination is key enough to unlock the hidden majesty of the great dome in Gelati, first and last home of the master chanters.