Princes

When we left Sameba Cathedral, it was freezing outside. The military guys had been standing out there all day, and they looked cold as hell. We walked down the street with the soldiers, priests, dignitaries, old men, old women, young people. It was a big mix of people. First off we found a restaurant and ordered some khinkali (meat dumplings) and chacha (the strong stuff). The place was stuffy with drunk men and cigarette smoke, but as usual Luarsab was even more willing to sing than me, and soon we had struck up a song or two in our corner booth. The waitress showed up with an extra bottle of vodka compliments of some other table, and soon a man came over to give a toast to Georgian songs and the foreign visitors. Before we left the restaurant, the atmosphere had changed; we could hear laughter, even some drunken singing as the Georgians took on the new flavor. Luarsab remarked that there is nothing to bond a group of Georgians than singing.

We left the restaurant, went down to the Patriarchate to get our car, and sure enough, we were invited to a dinner that evening with the Patriarch and Saakashvili. We couldn’t turn that down, so we hung out with some Basiani guys for an hour singing songs. Lexo showed me some Georgian wrestling moves. He is the coolest bear of a guy, I would love to get to know him better. Simon and I sightread through some chants, and one of the other guys taught me and Aurelia bits of a Gurian song. These guys sing for the Patriarch in the Basiani choir, and travel with him worldwide.

Then we went over to this big restaurant on the river, where we had to wait around to get past security. We were in a room at two tables with all the Basiani guys, it was really a great time. Wes and I had heartfelt toasts with the big bani twins from Guria, Zura and ?. Also talked a lot with Pimen and Nino. Gio Donadze said condolences for my father. We sang lots of songs with Luarsab, Simon got drunk and touchy feely. At one point the blonds almost sang for Saakashvili and Ilia II, but then Saakashvili left (to go to some other Supra no doubt, it being the anniversary of the Rose Revolution). Later we did sing Guruli Nanina for those who were left, and we met the Bishop of the Orthodox church in Canada, who was a very giggly man. Wes really liked this bishop.
We met so many bishops in the last two days, amazing. The best part of this Supra was singing with Basiani though. We were in a separate room from all the dignitaries and speeches, so we just had a grand old time with dancing, singing, and hysterics. Great food and drinks, these people know how to throw a party.

Funny story:
When we were in Sameba, it was whispered that people were saying that we were the Bagrationi heirs from Spain. We didn't really know what this meant, but apparently chairs had been brought for us to sit on. Turns out that the Bagrationis had been the royal family in Georgia for several hundred years, but were exiled to Spain by the Russians. A recent picture had been circulating, and the son of the current Bagrationi noble is a blond guy, and in the photo he had been wearing a chocka! So, unbeknownst to us, we were returning royalty for the day. That might explain all of the attention that we were receiving, even above and beyond being our fair appearance in this country of mostly dark haired people, not to mention Wes and I having strong brotherly resemblances. (check out photos in Ofoto albums).

Georgia is starting to become one big action movie. This morning Luarsab came and picked us up again and, dressed in chockas, we went to the Sheraton Metekhi Palace (Five Star Hotel) to sing a concert for a foreign women’s club. There were about forty women there from the States and Europe and we sang about six or seven songs and talked about Georgian music to them. They loved it and one Georgian women, Lali Connan, cried through the whole performance. Turns out she was an expert dancer with the Rustavi Ensemble in the 1980s, and best buddies with Hamlet Gonashvili, the most famous of Georgian singers (Futen guys will remember his Orovela). Amazing. Beautiful views of Old Tbilisi from the tenth floor, there is snow on the outer hillsides now.

From this gig we learned that we were invited to another supra with the Patriarch because the Secretary thought we had been undervalued the night before. We showed up too early, so we relearned Guruli Aghdgomasa Shensa, which we later performed for a room full of visiting priests, monks, nuns, and bishops from all over the world. We were the only foreigners in the whole room. One priest from Cyprus was particularly excited about our singing and wanted to hear Tsintskaro. We befriended a big jolly bishop from Greece who became a novice at age seventeen, lived on Mount Athos for twenty years, and has now established four monasteries in central Greece near Miteura. His name is Archimandrate Dionysus. He was interested in Aurelia's name, so he whipped out his hi-tech cellphone and called one of his nuns in Greece to ask for the etymology of her name. Turns out this nun was not only American but the aunt of the Hanson brothers, and within twenty seconds Aurelia was talking with her across the Seas. Strange world over here. Georgian monks and nuns were super appreciative of us, but we barely had a wave from the Patriarch. Actually we received no sign from him, not even that he was listening. Oh well. We performed a Kakhetian Mravalzhamier, then two Aghdgomasa Shensas. I think that we were outsiders, and performers, non-Orthodox... anyway, most people appreciated us.

Luarsab loves hanging out with us on so many levels. He likes to practice English, we bring him much attention, and he likes the intellectual conversation, the constant possibility to sing at the drop of a hat. He likes to show us off and thereby show himself off. He likes to make the point that Americans are not all bad, and also that foreigners can take part in this sacred music revival. He is full of love and charisma, I love him dearly.

There was a string quartet of cutie fifteen year old girls at this dinner. They were excellent musicians!! Unbelievable. Wes was enthralled to hear Western music again after so much Georgian singing for the last two months he has been here. It's true we are saturated with music and culture here, but it is so alive, so vibrant and often spontaneous, that I think I speak for both of us when I say our appreciation for all art seems to be at an all time high.

After the Patriarch and many of the more than a hundred priests left, we sat around and traded songs with the girls, and drank toasts. Some Basiani guys came in and reminded us that they were performing that night at the Opera House. We didn’t really know what the production was and thought we could just show up and get tickets. Turned out that the event was long sold-out and we needed passports to get in because Saakashvili was going to be there. Luarsab found this man Nikolas Memanishvili, who is a young man (only twenty four!), but already a famous Georgian composer who lived in Vienna for six years before being called back by Saakashvili to direct the main State Theater. He is short and round, very quiet and humble, we call him Nika.

Nika graciously drove us back to Sabertalo, where we ditched the chockas, donned our passports, and raced back to the Opera House. There we met two Likas, one from Sighnaghi, the other Shergil's cousin, and went through the artists entrance downstairs past heavy security. We got seats right away, just as the whole thing was beginning, because it turned out that Nika was not only VIP but the artistic director for the whole event, having composed six or seven pieces and coordinated all the other artists in attendance.

What a beautiful Opera House! Four levels of balconies above us, beautiful chandelier lighting, massive stage.... there were many groups who performed one or two songs, including a contemporary Georgian music choir of about twentyfive women. Maybe it was the Gori women’s choir, the one I have a cd recording of? Basiani sang one song near the beginning of the program, it was a Tsmindao Ghmerto that the Patriarch wrote himself we found out later. This was the one piece I completely slept through from pure exhaustion. Dance troups came out, and they were unbelievable. The men were precise, warlike; they leap through the air, and spin, twitch their legs super fast, and stick out their barrel chests. All of the most beautiful women in Georgia were on the stage tonight.

Twelve women danced as absolute twins in timing and stature, twirling and gliding around the stage with princess hats and gowns on. Their movements were delicate, seductive, untouchable, or pure nature. How to describe? One had the sense that this type of movement was reserved for angelic beings. Our normal activity of movement in walking, running, squatting, even standing... these are such awkward base movements that we have only become accustomed to through exposure. If a leopard could think, would it appreciate human movement? I don't think our habitual movements are the most developed. Well, if I can get away with that statement, I would like to contrast it by saying that humans have the ability to learn to dance, and these women tonight embodied the highest form of grace I can imagine a human having in movement. Even a leopard could have appreciated this.

An Adjaran dance troup came on, forty men in a straight line, dancing in very close formation, their knees bending in absolute unison. They fanned out in synchronized movement, then fanned back together again into a very tight unit before spreading out to do fancy moves. Together and spread with unbelievable agility and speed. This was a serious warrior dance. All of their movements looked like they could seriously maim anyone who was up there on stage without the knowledge of their movements. Kicks, spins, thrusts, very fast footwork which placed them in awkward looking positions out of which came unpredictable leaps and attacks. It was a dance in the sense that we were sitting in the Opera House with Saakashvili, but I definitely felt a kind of primordial awe for these men, as if I were a child and they were going out to battle advancing Persians in defense of lives and culture. Georgians have fought wars against invaders for all time.

The last of the forty times that Tbilisi has been sacked and destroyed was as late as 1794. There is a story about this battle. Three hundred men from one of the Highland regions came down out of the mountains to defend their allies in Tbilisi, but they came too late, the battle was already lost. An outrageous number of Persians were already in the city (maybe a quarter million). Rather than returning to their impenetrable highland villages, where the Persians would never have dared attack them, these three hundred souls attacked the Persians, and died to a man.