Tbilisi – Still walking the line
In early September 1991, I found myself in Tbilisi, the vibrant capital of Georgia, just months after the country had declared independence from the Soviet Union. My outward journey was driven by a unique opportunity: my first overseas assignment for the Guardian newspaper, to cover the inaugural International Juggling Convention.
Living with a local family, I quickly learned that customs around drinking were quite different—so I started each day armed with ice-cold vodka and stone-solid cheese bread, a local delicacy. As one of the few foreign journalists in the city at the time, I captured countless black-and-white images of jugglers and everyday Tbilisi residents—some simply going about their lives, others protesting against the new government.
The political climate grew tense rapidly, and soon a state of emergency was declared. After an unplanned second week in the city amid mounting unrest, I finally managed to leave Tbilisi, sharing the flight out with sheep and melons—an unforgettable end to a remarkable chapter in my life.
Shown at MoMA Tbilisi – May 2024 – release – Liam Bailey’s lens transports viewers back to a pivotal moment in history when Zviad Gamsukhurdia clung to power as the President of Georgia. The atmospheric images vividly depict the streets of Tbilisi adorned with barricades made from builders’ rubble, broken furniture, pipes, and mangled metal, crossing Rustaveli Avenue in defiance. In front of the imposing parliament building, a horseshoe of city buses had been strategically positioned, resembling a modern-day wagon train’s defensive formation. As well as the mundane and normal lives of the citys inhabitants.
In early September 1991, I found myself in Tbilisi, the vibrant capital of Georgia, just months after the country had declared independence from the Soviet Union. My outward journey was driven by a unique opportunity: my first overseas assignment for the Guardian newspaper, to cover the inaugural International Juggling Convention.
Living with a local family, I quickly learned that customs around drinking were quite different—so I started each day armed with ice-cold vodka and stone-solid cheese bread, a local delicacy. As one of the few foreign journalists in the city at the time, I captured countless black-and-white images of jugglers and everyday Tbilisi residents—some simply going about their lives, others protesting against the new government.
The political climate grew tense rapidly, and soon a state of emergency was declared. After an unplanned second week in the city amid mounting unrest, I finally managed to leave Tbilisi, sharing the flight out with sheep and melons—an unforgettable end to a remarkable chapter in my life.
Shown at MoMA Tbilisi – May 2024 – release – Liam Bailey’s lens transports viewers back to a pivotal moment in history when Zviad Gamsukhurdia clung to power as the President of Georgia. The atmospheric images vividly depict the streets of Tbilisi adorned with barricades made from builders’ rubble, broken furniture, pipes, and mangled metal, crossing Rustaveli Avenue in defiance. In front of the imposing parliament building, a horseshoe of city buses had been strategically positioned, resembling a modern-day wagon train’s defensive formation. As well as the mundane and normal lives of the citys inhabitants.