Day & Night

The photographs in this series, Day & Night, were taken on a trip to Tbilisi, Georgia. The contrasts and inversions represent my internal struggles on that trip, it being the first time I was able to read the language of my father, and the first time visiting Georgia without my family. This collection is a study in variance. Day becomes night, black becomes white, youth becomes age, and the ruth of winter becomes the summer sage.

P.S. Day & Night is accompanied by music:

Deda

The mother of Georgia stands watch over Tbilisi. Wine cup in one hand to welcome guests, and a sword in the other to banish enemies. Her smile reminds me of Mona Lisa’s... she is observant. Happy? Angry?

Song twin: Piramde by Tamada

Don’t Look Up

The title is misleading. In Tbilisi you should always look up, to catch someone on a balcony, or perhaps to see a beautiful intersection of lines.

Song twin: Panari by Melqo

Andza

Andza is the nickname for the Tbilisi TV tower. It is a symbol of the city itself for me, night or day, it is always visible. Both a real and metaphorical guiding light, broadcasting information and light at the same time. Bizarrely large at any vantage point in the city, unless you are standing right underneath. It transforms into a scalable triangle of red and white then.

Song twin: ჯვარი მწერია by ინდი მეშარნეები, TVLCHRL

Babua

Babua, or the grandpa. There are two older men in the photo, but as I watched them interact, there was a clear elder amongst the two. Immersed in intimate conversation, they never noticed me. And I’m happy they didn’t.

Song twin: Sulis Vardo by Niaz Disamidze, 33A

Who Needs War?

A response to one of the many pieces of anti-war graffiti in Tbilisi. It evokes an easy answer, while being a rhetorical question that’s difficult to respond, in turn, to. I don’t need the war... who needs war? Governments? Dictators? Corporations? The people? Will we ever know who needs the war? Is war a necessity?

Song twin: სიდრმე დუმდა by İzmir

Bebia

Bebia, or the grandmother. She holds flowers in her hands, in the exact same stance one would hold two pistols. Flowers for freedom? Or firearms? I would like to think that just like Kartlis Deda, the grandmother offers you flowers if you come with kindness, as a guest to her house. The glare in her eyes suggests that should you come to her house as an enemy, you’ll be met with metal, not petals.

Song twin: Tavisufleba by Quemmekh

Mtatsminda

Standing on the tallest mountain overlooking the city, the ferris wheel is a permanent fixture, to me. It was the first ferris wheel I had ever seen, a spider’s web of steel and glass. I took this photo while hiking Mtatsminda, stopping at a fork in the road. We took the path on the right leading us to the ferris wheel. The left path would have probably led us there too, but who’s to say?

Song twin: A Lake of Ice (Sarajishvili) by Nine Nutsubidze, Giorgi Gigashvili, Janngo

Garden

There is something peaceful about a garden devoid of it’s usual inhabitants. The silence eagerly waits for people to return from work and school in the evening. To bring wine and food, to sing and dance under the white and red Sakartvelo flag.

Song twin: Sakartveloa by Mgzavrebi

Night & Day

There are many stray cats and dogs in Tbilisi, yet almost all of them are skittish, tranquil, sleeping. This cat and I had a curious time, playing with each other, nearing closer and closer. Only when I took my camera out to photograph her, she pranced away. Was this photo taken in the early morning light or the dusk of a summer eve? I will adopt the mischievous and misleading nature of the cat, and leave the interpretation up to the viewer.

Song twin: Run by Killages

You Looked Up

Once you start looking up in Tbilisi, it’s hard to wrestle your eyes back down to the ground. I find myself entranced by the street lights and power lines cross cutting brutalist or Moorish balconies.

Song twin: Namasa by Erekle Deisadze, Nimitta

Construction or Destruction

I came across this window in shambles, and once again, found myself hypnotized by the lines and textures, wooden beams, carved brick, layered fabric. A man appeared in the window, wearing a bright yellow safety helmet. It was unclear in this moment if the building was being renovated or dismantled. Can anything be fully destroyed or preserved? Humanity’s ego suggests that we have the ultimate say, that our actions lead to concrete consequences. Yet, night will still turn to day. With or without us. The sun always rises.

Song twin: LOBIO’91 by Qaji Todia