Georgian Medieval Kingdom Crumbles Just Across the Border

Last summer, Katie Nadworny and Emma Harper wrote for the BBC about a Georgian architectural treasure hidden in Turkey. This summer, at Georgia Today, we are rediscovering it.

Once upon a time, there was a principality called Tao-Klarjeti. It was ruled by the royal Bagrationi family, whose name lives on, nearly 1000 years later, in wine and myth and, most significantly, cathedrals. Bagrationi Cathedral outside Kutaisi is well known, but the Tao-Klarjeti rulers left more behind, in what is today rural, remote northeast Turkey. Tao-Klarjeti was a feudal state, part of the United Kingdom of Georgia that reached its golden age in the 12^th and 13^th centuries.

A center for Orthodox Christian learning and monastic life, Tao-Klarjeti rulers built grand cathedrals and monasteries throughout the dramatic Kaçkar mountains near what is today the Turkey-Georgia border.

At the end of the 13^th century, Mongol invaders broke apart the United Kingdom of Georgia, its fall from greatness finalized by storied Turco-Mongol barbarian warrior Timur, or Timurlane, in the late 14^th century, who marauded the empire several times, leaving blood and ash in his wake. By the middle of the 16^th century, the Ottoman Empire was the major regional power, and subsumed the Tao-Klarjeti kingdom, leading it to eventually become a part of modern Turkey.

Now, hidden away behind centuries of neglect, vines, and trees, the architectural triumphs of Tao-Klarjeti are at risk of disappearing forever. Oshki Monastery is probably the most spectacular building of the region, located in Turkey’s Erzurum Province. It was built by Bagrationi brother Bagrat Eristavt Eristavi and David III Kuropalaty between 963 and 973 AD. The Oshki complex consists of a large church, pictured above, two small chapels, and several other monastic buildings. It was abandoned in the 17^th century, but the main church was converted into a mosque in the 19^th century and reoccupied for a time. Oshki’s cruciform plan is topped with a crumbling central dome, and decorated throughout with carvings and inscriptions, particularly the southern façade, which features bas-relief of an archer, an eagle after a successful hunt, and leaders presenting their churches to God.

Nadworny and Harper break into the fantasy, however, writing that “the monastery’s decrepitude is not all romantic. Many of the church decorations have been stolen over the years, a large crack on the western wall threatens the structural integrity and makeshift homes have been built right up against its exterior...the majesty of Oshki is left open to the elements, crumbling slowly.”

They call the many substandard attempts at restoration “a fate worse than neglect,” noting that the Ishkhani Church in the village of Arpacık, dating to at least the mid-10^th century, looks “more modern than medieval” with its uneven red-tiled roof and shiny, sandblasted, pink and white external walls. On the other end of the spectrum, Otkhta Church, called Dörtkilise by the locals, has nearly melted into the green hills that surround it. Its steep roof is blanketed in grass which bursts out through gaps in the stone façade. What still remains of Otkhta’s roof is speckled with chipping, sun bleached frescoes, out of reach from the graffiti that is shamefully scrawled across the walls.

Visiting these ancient ruins is a painfully bittersweet experience. To feel the majesty of what the Tao-Klarjeti dynasty once erected and represented is thrilling, and the isolation and grunge of it all makes visitors feel as if they have discovered a secret kingdom. The pain, however, comes in knowing that you may one of the last visitors to see the buildings as there are. Each year more and more is lost, with no cohesive plan in place from either the Georgian or Turkish governments, who bicker over how best to approach the sites.

“Despite the dilapidated condition of these churches, it’s still possible to admire the excellence of medieval architecture and craftsmanship,” Nadworny and Harper encourage, but close with a warning that “the fate of these architectural wonders remains uncertain.”

Find the original article, with beautiful photographs, here.

By Samantha Guthrie

Photo: Emma Harper