The Cheerful Host Has Favorite Guests

The village church in Makvaneti,
in the misty hills of Guria

Among the many surprises and discoveries of living in Ashfield, Massachusetts and working with Double Edge Theatre since about 2006, perhaps one of the least expected involved my meeting Tristan Sikharulidze and his trio, Shalva Chemo. Tristan is a master singer and living repository of the fabulously rich tradition of polyphonic song in Guria. In the spring of last year, Tristan's group came  to the U.S. for a concert tour organized by Carl Linich, a leading American expert on Georgian music and founder of the Kavkasia vocal group. Along with concerts in the expected places like Boston, New York, and Washington, D.C., the three Gurian singers visited some rural areas of New England and upstate New York, performing and giving master classes. One such event was at the home of Ricki Carroll in Ashfield, a rambling, curiously-decorated house with a lovely backyard, the kind of place where local musicians performed and amateur singing societies held potluck dinners. When the announcement came in a local email newsletter that this Georgian group would perform and hold a master class, I signed up immediately, not really knowing anything about Gurian music in particular. The master class started at 4pm and I was ten minutes late – in one of those twists that remind what privileged company I've been able to keep in my artistic life, my tardiness owed to a private meeting with the legendary Polish actress Rena Mirecka, then in residence at Double Edge. At Ricki Carroll's house, we spent about an hour learning a Gurian song, a lovely piece whose text told a story of the angels Michael and Gabriel, followed by a potluck dinner and a sold-out concert featuring the masterly voices of Tristan Sikharulidze, his older brother Guri Sikharulidze, and the bass Merabi Skalandadze.

Me with Tristan and Levan

Fast-forward a year, almost to the day, and I find myself in Tristan's study, looking at photos from his tour, including one from the Ashfield master class that, but for my lateness, would've included me as well! I had come to Makvaneti, Tristan's village 5km from the main town of Ozurgeti, in the hope of meeting this man whose music had entranced me before. What I received was two days of essentially private master classes and a remarkably generous welcome from Tristan's family. When I first arrived at Tristan's home, I had Francesco, my companion from the Samegrelo expedition, with me. Within minutes of getting there, Tristan said, "Well, what song do you want to learn?" and launched into his lesson. I don't think Francesco was expecting this exactly – having to sing with us – but he gamely went along before leaving to meet up with another friend back in Ozurgeti. The first song we learned was called "Maspindzelsa Mkhiarulsa, or "The Cheerful Host." As I understood it, this would be an appropriate first song at a supra, with a text celebrating a merry host and his funny guests, and admonishing God "not to interrupt" someone with so many friends. I took extensive recordings throughout my trip, but, as in Svaneti with the Pilpanis, the singing here was instructional, not performative, so there's not as much to share. After teaching me the words and melodies by ear, Tristan would sing each of the three harmony parts for me to record. One of his grandsons, Levan, was also with us at the dining room table, and joined in from time to time. Here's a brief moment, with Levan singing the top line, me singing the middle part, and Tristan singing bani, or bass, when I suddenly heard the structure of the song working together, despite my stumbling:

And, for comparison, here's Tristan's group "Shwidkatsa" singing the same song on CD:

In the liner notes to one of the two CDs Tristan gave me as a gift, Anzor Erkomaishvili repeats the common wisdom that a great Gurian singer never sings a piece the same way twice. Erkomaishvili should know, given that this founder of the world-famous Rustavi Ensemble came from the same village as Tristan. Improvisation is integral in the traditional performance of Gurian songs. When it comes to improvising in the midst of fast-moving three-part harmony, this is easier to understand in the context of the traditional trio setup – with one person per part, improvisation comes more naturally – yet there's a certain specific language of Gurian improvisation that allows for variation of performance even in larger groups. This is especially true in the passages of the song that include "nonsense" syllables like "a ba de lo de lo wo de la de la wo da," which are yet to be taken seriously as the vehicle of flights of improvisational skill and melodic interplay.

Tristan himself doesn't speak English, but when we were alone he was able to communicate enough in terms of the music, and the rest of the time his two grandsons, Levan and Ila, were there, and they both spoke English very well. With Levan and Ila, we shared our tastes in music and literature, and our interests in languages of the world. I never thought my ability to draw a reasonably accurate Indo-European language tree would come in handy, but Ila was interested, so I happily complied with one. He in turn, while sharing his interest in progressive rock, was shocked that I, a resident of Boston, no less, had never heard any of Dream Theater's music. Unforgivable, apparently.

Ozurgeti is only a 30-40 minute marshutka ride from Kobuleti, so I have every intention of returning and learning more songs. I hope there'll be chance to hear the whole Shalva Chemo group together, or at least to hear Tristan singing with some of his fellow Gurians. He really is the acknowledged master of this repertoire, and it would be a shame not to gather what I can from him, especially as he is so generous with sharing.

One final image that stuck with me was Tristan showing me a ch'uniri – the uniquely Svan bowed instrument – which had been given to him by Islam and Vakho Pilpani, the masters of Svan music whom I had stayed with back in January. More and more, I feel a web of hospitality, generosity, and love of music forming around me, along with the conviction that the significance of these relationships will resonate for many years to come.

NEXT TIME: EASTER IN GELATI