The One Caucasus Festival has been and gone, but because of COVID-19 it took on a very different format this year. At first, it seemed as though it would be held as it always has been with musicians from Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and elsewhere performing in a festival area conceived and constructed by architects from throughout the region and abroad too.
It should have just been a fun afternoon in Tbilisi’s Old Hippodrome, but the planned punk festival, the first in ages because of the COVID-19 pandemic restrictions, took a violent turn when a group of neo-Nazis decided to disrupt it apparently because of one track, გერჩი – ყარს (Georgien über allen), by Georgian punk band, Gerchi.
I’ll be quite honest. Five years ago, in 2015, when I was told that Psychonaut 4 would be performing in Tbilisi, I really wasn’t interested in going to see them live. I hadn’t heard of the band until then and I really had no idea where they were coming from musically.
After covering last year’s One Caucasus Festival for Meydan TV there was no way I was going to miss this year’s. That was just as well as there was definitely more international media interest in the event that brings Armenians, Azerbaijanis, and Georgians together in a small, somewhat isolated village located about two hours away from Tbilisi.
One of the standout bands at this year’s One Caucasus Festival in Georgia was undoubtedly the Baku-based Les Gardiens du Silence, a collective playing improvised world and spiritual music. They had also performed in Tbilisi a week earlier, and did so again soon after the festival, but it was their performances around a campfire at One Caucasus that was the most enjoyable.
Stratfor has published my text and photographs on the One Caucasus Festival held in the village of Tserakvi in Georgia. It’s aim is to bring together young Armenian, Azerbaijani, and Georgian musicians and other artists to work together to build a common image of a united and peaceful region.
Having moved from the UK to Armenia in 1998 to work for the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) it was only natural that I started to take an interest in an alternative music scene that, while not really existing, was emerging at the time. From 2001 onwards the situation started to change, and bands such as Gyumri’s The Bambir really grabbed my attention. By the mid-2000s other bands started to emerge and those that had been dormant during the electricity shortages of the 1990s began to re-surface.
I won’t pretend to be a Eurovision fan as it’s really not my thing. Until I moved to the South Caucasus from the U.K. I never ever watched it and actually thought it something best avoided. True, standards in the international music competition have increased considerably since Eastern Europe and other former Soviet republics have participated, and the often acerbic commentary on on Twitter can be fun, but in the few years that really hasn’t been enough.
I’ve been meaning to attend the annual One Caucasus festival since it started three years ago, but this year’s event, held 25-28 August in the Georgian village of Tserakvi, was the first time that I have. Naturally, I put together two video reports, in Azerbaijani for the BBC’s Azeri Service, embedded further down this page, and in English for Meydan TV, directly below.