Window Detail, Tbilisi, Georgia
At the beginning of the 19th century, Tbilisi – first made capital of Eastern Georgia, or “Iberia”, in the 6th century – lay in ruins after the devastating Persian raid of 1795. The country sought the protection of the Russian State in 1801 and thus joined a booming Empire that was to change the face of the capital in a fundamental way. Tbilisi became heavily Europeanised in terms of its culture and way of life, yet without completely losing its Caucasian feel. The Tbilisi house is perhaps the most poignant witness to this period.
Georgian dwelling houses were mentioned as early as the first century BC by Vitruvius who commented on the characteristic lantern domes (darbazi). In Tbilisi pre-Russian elements survive in residential architecture only in the street pattern of the central areas. As the growth of the 19th century wore on, an increasing number of structures were put up in masonry, stylistically following a thoroughly European model and even adopting the form of multi-occupancy tenements by the end of the century. What remained of the Caucasian features was in particular the use of courtyards, balconies and external staircases which enabled a characteristically Georgian (and Armenian, given the large number of inhabitants of Tbilisi from that country at the time) way of life. This revolves around a greater degree of openness to the street and cross-communication between houses and families than would be possible or desirable in the harsh climates of European Russia.
Paradoxically, this “communality” was enhanced by Soviet housing policies, the infamous komunalki, which saw the breaking up of old dwelling units into a multitude of small-scale apartments with shared sanitary and cooking facilities. The challenge that this provided was met with a typically Caucasian sense of ingenuity and improvisation through the construction of additional staircases, bridges and balconies that ensured private access to the various parts of the old houses. Decades of neglect and overpopulation were followed by the turmoil of the post-Independence era in the 1990s which did not allow for a meaningful analysis of the situation, let alone a concerted restoration effort.
Nowadays Old Tbilisi is faced with a mixture of wilful demolition, pastiche-type restoration and, thankfully, still large swathes of mostly unspoilt urban fabric. In particular the balconies and external staircases display a wide range of architectural solutions, from the sophisticated delicate woodwork of the 19th and early 20th centuries to makeshift repairs and additions of the Soviet period. Together with its medieval church monuments and important representative structures of the last two centuries, Old Tbilisi presents itself as one of the most interesting cityscapes on the territory of the former USSR.
Window Detail, Tbilisi, Georgia
At the beginning of the 19th century, Tbilisi – first made capital of Eastern Georgia, or “Iberia”, in the 6th century – lay in ruins after the devastating Persian raid of 1795. The country sought the protection of the Russian State in 1801 and thus joined a booming Empire that was to change the face of the capital in a fundamental way. Tbilisi became heavily Europeanised in terms of its culture and way of life, yet without completely losing its Caucasian feel. The Tbilisi house is perhaps the most poignant witness to this period.
Georgian dwelling houses were mentioned as early as the first century BC by Vitruvius who commented on the characteristic lantern domes (darbazi). In Tbilisi pre-Russian elements survive in residential architecture only in the street pattern of the central areas. As the growth of the 19th century wore on, an increasing number of structures were put up in masonry, stylistically following a thoroughly European model and even adopting the form of multi-occupancy tenements by the end of the century. What remained of the Caucasian features was in particular the use of courtyards, balconies and external staircases which enabled a characteristically Georgian (and Armenian, given the large number of inhabitants of Tbilisi from that country at the time) way of life. This revolves around a greater degree of openness to the street and cross-communication between houses and families than would be possible or desirable in the harsh climates of European Russia.
Paradoxically, this “communality” was enhanced by Soviet housing policies, the infamous komunalki, which saw the breaking up of old dwelling units into a multitude of small-scale apartments with shared sanitary and cooking facilities. The challenge that this provided was met with a typically Caucasian sense of ingenuity and improvisation through the construction of additional staircases, bridges and balconies that ensured private access to the various parts of the old houses. Decades of neglect and overpopulation were followed by the turmoil of the post-Independence era in the 1990s which did not allow for a meaningful analysis of the situation, let alone a concerted restoration effort.
Nowadays Old Tbilisi is faced with a mixture of wilful demolition, pastiche-type restoration and, thankfully, still large swathes of mostly unspoilt urban fabric. In particular the balconies and external staircases display a wide range of architectural solutions, from the sophisticated delicate woodwork of the 19th and early 20th centuries to makeshift repairs and additions of the Soviet period. Together with its medieval church monuments and important representative structures of the last two centuries, Old Tbilisi presents itself as one of the most interesting cityscapes on the territory of the former USSR.